Chapter Eighteen
Locus
Our little Renie, short for Irene Elizabeth, was the center of our world. For the first few weeks of her life, Felix stayed home with me, never leaving our home except to buy more baby laundry soap for the cloth diapers we agreed were the responsible thing to do—and which I’d begun plotting how to switch out as soon as possible—and oranges, a craving that came to me after giving birth. And then only when someone else, Malinda or Grey or Patty...one of our other friends were there. Sasha, Rob, and their family stopped by often. The dragon, lion, and unicorn had saved my life and remained good friends of ours.
Malinda had checked me over and pronounced me fit, although she warned us to hold off on lovemaking for a few more weeks because our chubby darling had not been easy on my body as she made her speedy way into the world. I was torn between desperate for his touch and scared about it. Confident in my papahood and scared I’d do something wrong and cause irreparable damage to the little life who depended on us. But I kept my fears to myself because Felix seemed so sure of both of us as excellent parents, and the last thing I wanted to do was let him know he might be the only excellent one. He got up in the night and brought her to me to nurse, changed diapers, bathed her so gently it made my heart beat with love for both of them. I didn’t know what I’d do without him.
And the anxiety of that issue grew each day, harder and harder to hide from him.
But as her first month came to an end, it was time for Felix to return to work. His staff was being paid full salary while he was off, and that, combined with patients who might be getting used to the other doctors, meant he couldn’t wait any longer.
I tried to be brave. And I managed to kiss him goodbye and even smile. He wouldn’t be far away and I had him, Malinda, and Grey on speed dial and my phone in my pocket. Any of them could be here quickly in a crisis. But as the truck rolled down the driveway toward the highway to town, I buried my face in the soft blanket wrapped around the baby napping in my arms and let the tears flow.
I headed back inside as the crying got worse. Everything I’d held inside now wanted to make an appearance, and my shaking knees were in danger of sending both me and the little girl I held in my arms to the floor. I sat in the rocking chair in the living room and tried to feed Renie, but by now she was crying, too, no doubt picking up on her papa’s mood. Her wails and mine chorused for a few minutes until what little sense of practicality I had—otherwise known as my fox—pointed out that we’d both be sick if I didn’t stop.
Looking down at the tear-tracked red cheeks of my beloved daughter, I forced myself to take deep breaths. Gradually, my sobs eased and as I calmed, so did Renie. Malinda had warned me what emotional barometers babies were, but until now I had been so busy stuffing my fears, I hadn’t seen a demonstration.
The phone rang and I jumped then fumbled for the device. “Hello?”
Felix’s reassuring tones rolled over me from the speaker. “How goes it so far, Papa?”
I sniffled a little, but forced my voice to be level. “Doing great. We’re both fine.”
“No you’re not.”
Ohhh… “No, really,” I lied. “Couldn’t be better.”
He chuckled. “Such a terrible liar. You think I didn’t know how scared you were to be on your own with Renie? Are you crying?”
“Not anymore.” Because lying to my alpha was pointless. “If you knew I was such a goofball, why did you leave me alone?”
“Oh, Rogue”—as always the name sent a little shiver down my spine—“I had to give you a chance to see you’d be okay on your own. Remember, I’m only going to have a quick meeting with staff and then come home today. Tomorrow will be a real clinic day.”
“I know.”
“Do you need me to cancel the meeting?” He would, I knew, and somehow that knowledge made me stronger.
“Nah.” I looked down at my sleeping baby, no longer upset now that I wasn’t. “We really are fine now.” A thought occurred to me. “Are you having donuts at the meeting?”
“Saving you a chocolate creme.”
My smile stretched my salty tear-streaked cheeks. “Love you so much.”
“Love you more.” He paused a moment. “You don’t have to hide your feelings from me, you know.”
“I didn’t want you to be sorry you took on such an emotional mess.”
“I could never be sorry we’re together. I was hoping you’d open up to me sooner, but I didn’t want to upset you so soon after the baby.”
I could hear voices in the background. “Sounds like your staff is waiting for you.”
“Yeah. Let’s talk about this more when I get home, okay? I don’t like that we weren’t being open with one another. We can do better.”
Stroking a curl from the softest forehead in the world, I felt happiness steal over me. “We’ve done pretty well so far, alpha. But I’m up for even better.”
We disconnected and I resettled Renie on my lap. I could put her in the bassinet, but I loved having her close to me and she seemed to like it, too, always resting better near one of us. Although I was no longer eating us out of house and home, the talk of donuts had made me hungry. Cradling Renie in my arms, I moved into the kitchen but stopped by the big window over the sink.
They were back. The doe and her almost-grown fawn stood in the yard, this time. Halfway between the tree line and the house. Once again, I got the feeling they were more than animals and when I pushed the door open and stepped onto the porch, they proved me right.
Their shift was quick, from a lithe female deer and leggy fawn to a lean, soft-featured woman of thirty or so and a teenage boy at the gawky stage. I clutched Renie closer and whirled toward the house, but the female called out.
“Don’t go. Please.”
I hadn’t seen them since that time when they didn’t leave the trees, but I had no doubt it was the same animals, well, shifters. My fox seemed calm, and they were both naked and had no place to hide weapons.
“What do you want?” It seemed the obvious question.
“I have a message for you.”
The shudder that ran through me was not hormonal. “Where are they? Are they all right?”
“Some of them.”