A few days later, Abigail found herself in a small two-bedroom house in town, watching the ballooning Jessie growl over some half-built piece of furniture. Riley was snickering beside her as Phoebe gave a pitying sigh.

“Cribs!” Jessie snarled. “Why are they so fucking complicated?”

“Why don’t you let us handle it?” Abigail suggested, stepping closer. Jessie’s answering, vicious growl made her step back. She wasn’t scared of the pregnant lioness, but she also didn’t want to stress Jessie out any more than she already was. At nearly five months along, no one was willing to test Jessie’s patience.

“I can fucking handle it,” Jessie snapped. “I can…”

Then the tears came, and Abigail walked forward again. She took the lioness’ elbow and pulled her away gently from the crib. Phoebe closed in and began to build it before anyone could tell her not to. Riley flanked Jessie’s other side as Abigail led them all out of the bedroom and into the living room. Jessie wasn’t crying; the tears just rolled down her face. Frustration, anger, sadness, loneliness were filling the air. All things she expected from a woman as fierce as Jessie, but without the support system to help with one of the more trying things she could experience: becoming a mother.

“Sit down, Jessie,” she whispered.

The lioness did as she was told, and Abigail went to her knees in front of the teary woman. Jessie was stunning. Her coloring was ethereal and cool. Ice-blonde hair that fell in the same bone-straight and silky fashion that Abigail’s did. It was also long, like Riley’s golden blonde curls. She touched Jessie’s face gently, wiping away the tears, and watched the lioness’ eyes open again. They were a deep, sapphire blue. Jessie was a knockout even with flushed cheeks and red, puffy eyes.

“I hate needing help,” Jessie mumbled. “Sorry. I’m so…fucking emotional now. I hate it.”

“It’s expected,” Abigail told her gently. “We understand. I know you’re an independent person, but let us help. Let us take this off you.”

“I never thought I would get fucking pregnant with nobody, ya know?” Jessie looked lost.

“Oh, fuck that,” Riley snapped. “You don’t have nobody. You got us. My guys will come over and build or buy all the fucking furniture you need. Once the baby is born, you can get a job again.”

“I don’t need it,” Jessie groaned. “A job. I’m still sitting on all that money from…”

“Yeah, wasn’t that like twenty million?” Riley chuckled. Abigail knew what they were talking about, some from hearsay and some from Brenton. Jessie and Riley had an interesting history of kidnapping, multiple betrayals, and some large financial ‘donations’ for people to disappear. Felines. “See? You don’t even need to worry about supporting your baby financially. Let us handle the heavy lifting and we’ll make this work.”

“Still no idea on the father?” Abigail asked, moving to sit down on the couch as well.

“No,” Jessie groaned. “There’s a few options, for one, and none of them were anything more than one-night stands. I don’t even remember two of their names, and the third is married with other children. I don’t want to even touch that, ya know? They were all human, too. Their kid won’t be.”

“You would rather just not press it anymore?” Abigail could understand that. It would be hard, but it was Jessie’s decision and she would support it.

“Yeah, it just feels so…fucking hard sometimes,” Jessie sighed, shaking her head. “Add in the hormones, and I’m angry and crying all the time. I need help, but I’ve never had to ask for it before and it’s just all…”

“Crib is done!” Phoebe called out. She walked in, grinning. “Come see it, Jessie. It’s adorable and deserves Momma’s approval.”

Abigail smiled at Jessie and Riley. The cheetah broke out into a grin as Jessie got up to follow their only human. They could both hear the crying as Jessie thanked Phoebe for the crib.

“Do we know if it’s a boy or girl?” Abigail asked Riley, who shrugged.

“She decided to make it a surprise. She’s making the room fantasy themed and not gender-based, so it’s not the biggest worry,” Riley answered.

“That’s good,” Abigail replied, nodding.

“Thank you for coming today,” Riley whispered. “I know this isn’t really your scene. I mean, you’re avoiding your sister’s pregnancy. It’s not really my thing either, but…”

“My sister has a husband, our family, his family, and the whole Herd looking out for her.” Abigail chuckled. “Jessie needs me more. I know very little about babies, but I can put together some furniture and paint some walls.”

“And?” Riley looked like she was fishing, and Abigail groaned.

“If I go help my sister, my parents will bother me for some grandbabies too. Karli understands why I don’t want to be hounded,” Abigail finished. Jessie was still crying at Phoebe in the bedroom. “We should go save Phoebe.” She began to stand.

“I’m not done with you,” Riley laughed, reaching out to her. “What’s going on with you and the wolves?”

“I’m not ready for that conversation,” she mumbled, a blush heating her face. She remembered the evening at the bar. She remembered how it continued when they got back to the farmhouse. She remembered how she woke up the next day, spread out over Thomas’ chest, with James curled around her back. “It’s casual. We’re friends.”

“Uh huh.” Riley didn’t believe her, and Abigail knew it was a farce between them to pretend she did. “I’ll drop it…again. Only for you.”

“That’s what makes you my best friend,” Abigail murmured, taking Riley’s hand. She meant every word of it. Riley was her best friend. For all her temper and fire, she was hard to dislike in any way, and her heart was too big not to get pulled in. For someone so young, she was so damn at ease with herself, in a way Abigail had never felt before, not until recently. “Thank you.”

“Eh.” Riley shrugged. “I hid from the world after meeting my guys. Probably not healthy, but it worked for us. We didn’t start really telling anyone for months. It gave us time to really figure out what we were, I think.”

“You are looking too far into me and the Pack,” Abigail tried to play off Riley’s implication, even as she silently cursed at the cheetah’s intuition about the situation.

“No, I’m not,” Riley chuckled. “Let’s go save Phoebe.” With that, Riley stood up and Abigail walked hand in hand with her to the crying lioness. Phoebe was already set to building the changing table. Abigail looked around. She could get started on the rocker they had bought for Jessie.

An hour later, the Pride showed up carrying boxes. Brenton and Zachary had a bookshelf for the baby’s room. Andrew brought them food to eat. Troy and Gabe had boxes and boxes of clothes for a child who wouldn’t wear them for another four months, at least.

“Did you text them?” Jessie growled at Riley, looking over the male felines. Abigail giggled at how uncomfortable they all looked, standing in the living room surrounded by baby items. They were a bunch of young men, completely out of their depth.

“I did,” Riley laughed. “You didn’t want a baby shower, so I decided to have Gabe break into your computer, find all the stuff you’ve been looking at, and order it.”

“That’s fucking hilarious,” Phoebe laughed. “Hey guys, it all goes back here.”

They watched the Pride follow Phoebe back. “One day, I’ll get you back for this,” Jessie hissed.

Abigail continued to giggle. This was another good reason as to why Riley was her best friend. She was probably the best friend of every woman in their little circle.

“Nah, kids aren’t on my to-do list,” Riley chuckled. “The guys and I made a deal that we need at least five years without anything crazy going on before even considering it.”

“T-minus five years,” Jessie mumbled petulantly. Abigail giggled harder and Jessie glared at her. “Don’t make me need revenge on you, too.”

Abigail held a hand up in a mock plea for mercy, but her giggling couldn’t be stopped. The face Jessie was making was just too funny. This entire thing was just too funny for some reason.

“Now, Jessie,” an elderly female voice entered the room. Abigail turned and smiled at Patty Johnson, the human wife of Sheriff Johnson, the massive grizzly bear behind her. “You let us take care of everything and stop threatening your friends.”

“Oh my fucking god,” Jessie mumbled, glaring at Riley.

“Go on, sit down before you strain yourself. Trust me, I’ve had four babies, all sons,” Patty said patiently, walking over to lead Jessie to the couch again.

Sheriff just looked down at Riley. “How are you, kitten?” he asked, smiling kindly. “Zachary texted and said you called in aid to deal with the resident pregnant one.”

“I did. Thanks for coming, Sheriff.” Riley led him away to the back as Phoebe came back out. Phoebe swatted Sheriff’s arm and glared at him.

Abigail gasped.

“I grew up with you in this damn town and you never told me you turn into a fucking bear!” Phoebe accused, and Sheriff groaned.

“Who told you?” he asked, looking down at her. Then he looked at Riley, who tried to appear innocent. “Of course. Yes. I’m a shifter like the rest of them. I’m a grizzly. Abigail is a doe. The guys who now own the bar are wolves. Deal with it, kid.”

“Okay,” Phoebe agreed, grinning. “I just wanted you to admit it. I’ll remember this, though, the next time you try to tell me to stop taking home boys. I know your dirty secret.”

“Christ,” Sheriff grumbled.

“This is what you get, old bear, for adopting all the young women in this town into your care whether they like it or not,” Patty laughed from the couch. “Jessie, you’re next.”

“I’m nearly forty,” Jessie growled. “He’s not adopting Abigail, is he?”

“Nope,” Abigail chuckled, holding her hands up. “I have a father, mother, twin sister, brother-in-law - the whole thing. I even have a career.”

Things settled down after that. Her wolves never showed up, but she hadn’t texted them to ask if they wanted to. She knew Rocker’s would be open on a Friday and they would be busy. The tiny house was full to the brim anyway. The massive cats took up too much space, and Sheriff felt like he took a quarter of the living room by himself. There weren’t enough seats for everyone as they built furniture, organized baby clothes for the dressers, and ate Andrew’s food.

At one point, Jessie claimed she needed some air and Abigail walked her outside to the back porch.

“I hate how many people are in my house,” Jessie growled softly.

“No, you don’t,” Abigail laughed, gently swatting the lioness’ arm. “Stop that.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” Jessie groaned. “I just never expected any of this. When I discovered I was pregnant, I’d been thinking about just going back into hiding. You know, my old Pride is still trying to find me?”

“I’ve heard,” Abigail sighed. “You know that no one in this town would let anything happen to you?”

“I’m a Rogue,” Jessie snorted.

“You’re our Rogue,” Abigail reminded her. Rogues were normal felines and wolves that refused community. It was difficult for them, those that refused to bow to an Alpha. They were threats against territory and security, normally chased out of an area before they could really settle. “You might not be in the Kingson Pride, but you know they won’t run you out or let anyone else do it. Neither will the wolves. Thomas is a good man.”

“Yeah, they are a good bunch. A breed of their own, all fucking crazy as shit, but a good bunch of kids, the Pride. The Pack are good guys, too.” Jessie agreed. “This place has a nice thing going for it, doesn’t it?”

“What do you mean?” Abigail asked, leaning on the railing of the porch.

“The community. Even a good number of the humans in this town know we’re a little different, so they treat us with respect. It’s odd.”

“This town has had shifters in it for several decades,” Abigail reminded her. “It’s small, close-knit.”

“I love it here,” Jessie whispered. “I don’t want to leave it. Good place to raise a baby on my own, ya know?”

Abigail put an arm around Jessie and hugged her. She couldn’t find the words to say she understood. Different reasons, but she understood the want to stay in this place. There was only one thing Jessie had said that she disagreed with.

“You aren’t raising your baby on your own,” Abigail told her. “You aren’t. Look around you, Jessie. None of these people, myself included, even if I leave for another job, will let you do this alone.”

“You’re a good prey.” Jessie chuckled. “Most look at a Rogue like me and run the other way. It’s in my scent at this point. The lack of Pride and Alpha changes us a little. The longer I go without one, the more noticeable it will become.”

“I know,” Abigail said. “And the harder it will be for you to find an Alpha again.”

“There won’t be another Alpha for me,” Jessie said confidently. “Nope. The one I served is dead and gone. He took my heart with him. No, I’ll stick with just me and my baby now. And my friends.”

“And your friends,” Abigail chuckled. “Ready to go back in?”

“Yeah,” she groaned. “Before they completely remodel my fucking house.”

Abigail laughed at that. Knowing the Pride, they would if left unattended. They already thought this house was just too small, and they wanted to make Jessie put an addition on it to have more space.

“I’m just saying, Sheriff,” Brenton growled as Abigail entered with Jessie, “we can knock down the back wall. The back post can move ten more feet out and still leave a ton of backyard and make the living room three times the size. Even put an office in.”

“Oh, god damn it,” Jessie muttered, glaring towards the living room. “Here we fucking go.”

Abigail just couldn’t stop laughing as Sheriff agreed with Brenton. She meandered about, listening to everyone as they talked about babies, furniture, remodeling, and all manner of things. Patty shared stories of raising her and Sheriff’s four boys, making Jessie pale in fear at the prospect of a son.

“Abigail,” Andrew whispered, sliding up next to her. “How are you?”

Abigail looked at him and smiled. “I’m wonderful, Andrew. Thank you for asking. How are you?”

“I’m doing really well,” he replied. “Thanks to you.”

Abigail’s heart clenched. Andrew had been seriously injured back in December. A traumatic brain injury left him with a moderate case of short term memory loss. It wasn’t the worst she’d ever seen or heard of, but it was still affecting his life and they all knew it. She saw him as his doctor for the mental health side of it. Often, injuries like his could lead to personality changes, depression, and so much more. Thankfully, other than some depression, Andrew was relatively healthy. The Pride reported no severe changes in personality and they supported him fully through anything she or his other doctor recommended.

“I think your Pride has been more helpful than me,” she told him.

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Andrew chuckled. “What’s going on between you and the wolves?”

“Oh, no,” Abigail laughed. “No, no, no.”

“I see,” he hummed, nodding. She knew he had his theories. She remembered what he’d said to her - make the memories while you can - and then Riley told her to jump in with both feet. Abigail had done both; she just wasn’t ready to share what was growing in her heart for the wolves. He ended her thoughts with more conversation. “Are you coming to the diner’s reopening next week?”

“I am!” Abigail nodded, glad for the change in conversation. “I’m excited for it. If your cooking is this good now, I can only imagine what you do when you’re treating paying customers, and the locals talk about Starry Night Diner like it’s God’s gift to them.”

“It’s been around for a long time, so they get pretty obsessive with it. Everyone was distraught when it burned down. The town doesn’t know, but hunters did it, trying to get us riled up and pissed off. Picking a fight,” Andrew explained.

“I know the story,” Abigail sighed. “Riley told me.” It ended in the Pride being in the same hunting compound as the Pack. There was a lot of pain in the Pride from that time of their lives.

“I forget,” Andrew chuckled, “that she tells you absolutely everything. And no, not the type of forgetting that worries me. It just slips my mind. She hasn’t had a female friend since we crashed into her life and now she has a few of you.”

“I didn’t have many friends before coming here,” Abigail admitted to him. “I’ll be at the diner opening, I promise.”

“Awesome - and tell the wolves?”

“You know they won’t miss a chance to eat your food, Andrew.” Abigail laughed. “Come on now.”

“Tell them I’ll trade some of my recipes for their barbecue sauce recipe,” Andrew whispered, trying to sound like it was a drug deal or something.

Abigail snickered. “I don’t know, Andrew. That sounds like risky business. I’m not sure I can be the go-between for this sort of deal,” she whispered back in fake worry. He grinned, and she could only grin back in response. “I’ll see what I can do, but they probably won’t go for it. The chef makes the recipes come to life, Andrew. I know it wouldn’t be the same unless you’re cooking it.”

“Thanks, Abigail. See what you can do, and thanks for the compliment.”

“You lost some ability to store short term memories. Nothing else. You are still talented and committed to your craft. That won’t change unless you let it,” Abigail reminded him. It was a recurring topic in their therapy. Andrew had been worried about two things when he’d realized the lasting effects of his injury: would the Pride stay with him, and would he continue to be a great chef?

She couldn’t help with the first, not truly. Only his Pride could reassure him that they would always be there for him, but she could ease his anxiety and fears about being what he wanted to be. A chef, a business owner. She could offer him techniques and skills to manage his new handicap and give him an objective viewpoint and guide him through healing.

He wandered off after that, and Abigail took a deep breath. He was healing. Troy and Gabe no longer saw her as patients. Standing there in the little community of Wild Junction sans the wolves, she realized she had nothing else to do.

Where did that leave her?

The last person in the room she wanted to notice her did. Brenton took over Andrew’s place beside her and sighed.

“By the look on your face, I think you realized something,” Brenton whispered.

“How long do I have left, Brenton?” she asked him honestly. Something made her a little heartsick. The sight of everyone just enjoying another day, knowing Andrew would be fine. Knowing the Pride had healed from hunters and political machinations, and all the trauma that had come from both.

“As long as you want,” he chuckled. He gave her a look that she couldn’t read. “You could start looking for new work whenever you want. I’ll stop paying you at the end of April. That gets you through Riley’s gallery opening. You don’t have to leave, though.”

“Thanks, Brenton,” Abigail said gratefully. “That means a lot to me.”

“No.” Brenton shook his head. “Thank you. And maybe one of them will call you and need some help before you move on to better things than a Pride of six, a pack of wolves, and a fox who refuses to speak to anyone unless it’s about an engine.”

“I don’t know,” Abigail mumbled. “Are there better things?”

“To me?” Brenton laughed, and she saw his youth in it. It was still weird to her that Brenton was only in his late twenties. He waved out over the crowd, all preoccupied with the food and bothering Jessie over names, the sex, and a thousand different other things. “No. There is nothing better out there for me. But you? Abigail, you are career-oriented, and successful to boot. People might not pay you as much as I have, but you call a high price.”

“The SSTF didn’t pay me my private rates,” Abigail informed him. “Government salary and all that.”

“Hence why you gained a name for also seeing private clients,” Brenton reminded her. “And we private clients pay you very well. I do believe I’ve nearly doubled your net worth.”

“I think you have.” Abigail giggled. “It’s not about the money though.”

Brenton just hummed an acknowledgement, nodding. She followed his gaze to see Riley sitting on Andrew’s lap now, laughing over something. She checked the time and cursed.

“I need to go,” she grumbled. “I have an appointment.”

“Have a nice day,” Brenton called to her as she walked away, humor in his tone. “Tell the wolves I say hello.”

She ignored the second part, pretending like she didn’t hear it. She was seeing Finn today, for only the third time since she’d been in Wild Junction. Nearly four full months in the town, and she’d seen her hardest patient three times. He skipped appointments, refused to schedule follow-ups, and evaded her calls. Then he would get drunk and call to make one and actually show up.

She quickly said her goodbyes to everyone, hugging Riley, Phoebe, and Jessie before running out the door. She pulled out her keys and slid into the rental car she was still using. She was tired of it, but she didn’t want to get her own car shipped in from LA just to leave and need to ship it out. So she wasted Brenton’s large fund for her on keeping the rental.

She made it back to her hotel and was pleased to see Finn waiting. His red, shaggy hair was unkempt, dirty, and his clothes were too big. He was dropping weight from his slight frame, and that didn’t bode well for her. His skin was too pale, his freckles even seeming washed out. Orange eyes were vacant, and he reeked of alcohol. Abigail’s last patient was definitely a disaster.

“It’s good to see you, Finn,” she greeted him gently. “Let’s go inside.”

“Ok,” he mumbled, following her all the way up to the hotel room in silence afterwards. She locked them in and led him to sit down in the softest chair the room had. He wasn’t the tallest shifter, only five-nine, maybe five-ten. She probably weighed more than him at this point.

“Finn,” she began, sitting down in the desk chair. “Where have you been this last week?”

“In the apartment.” She didn’t note any slur in his speech. It made her wonder if he was sober, but in the same disgusting clothes he got drunk in.

This was going to be a long appointment. She wanted to be back at Jessie’s house, talking about babies.

First, she had to keep trying to save this fox from himself. She just didn’t know how to convince him into the first step. She might need to force him, and that meant handling it right.