Laurel was a few weeks old and nobody in our household was getting any sleep. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I was pacing across the floor, jiggling Laurel gently in my arms while Shiloh deftly unbuttoned his shirt and pressed gently at his chest.

“Okay, hand her here,” he said.

I dangled Laurel for a minute, rubbing my nose quickly across her belly and getting a tiny squeal out of her before I passed her to Shiloh. The baby rooted greedily around on Shiloh’s chest before finding what she was searching for. Shiloh winced a little but then he and the baby settled into their feeding rhythm.

“We need to go back to the valley,” Shiloh said over the baby’s head.

“Oh, okay.” He always made these announcements out of the blue. I’d tried to talk to him about us being a couple and needing to discuss these types of things between us before he made his announcements, but it hadn’t worked so far.

“It’s time,” he said. “Laurel needs to be blessed. And she needs to meet the pack. I’ll call my parents, let them know we’re coming. They’ll take care of everything else.”

“Well, I guess that’s settled, then.”

“Don’t be angry. I’m sorry. I’ll try to remember to talk to you next time.”

I couldn’t stay angry at him, not when he was sitting there, nursing my baby. I slid onto the sofa beside him and picked up his feet, massaging them. “Tell me when you want to go. I’ll make the travel arrangements.”

He blew me a kiss over the baby’s head and then switched Laurel from one side to the other.

I got up to go and make the arrangements.

* * *

The trip to Stell Valley with the baby was easier than I’d anticipated. The smooth whirring of the train lulled Laurel to sleep for most of the trip, and I managed to locate a vehicle for us to rent that wasn’t the valley’s usual junk heap. A shining, clean truck with auto-drive, air-conditioning, and a working radio waited for us when we disembarked the train. There was even a brand-new car seat strapped tightly into the back seat of the dual-cabbed truck.

We strapped in the baby and headed up into the mountains. Shiloh told me his parents had everything planned. We were staying at their house instead of Shiloh’s old cabin so his mom could help with the baby and give us a chance to rest a bit. I was eternally grateful and looking forward to sleeping past five a.m.

Abby and Adam, Shiloh’s parents, were standing on the porch of their large mountain cabin, waiting for us. I parked the truck to the side of the house and got out, coming around to unlatch Laurel from her seat. Shiloh jumped out and ran up the steps, eager to see his parents for the first time in weeks.

“We’re so glad you’re here,” Abby gushed. Then she held out her hands. “Let me see that baby.” I happily deposited Laurel into her grandmother’s waiting arms. Abby cooed and burbled at the baby, a grin spreading across her face when Laurel cooed and burbled back.

Adam clapped me on the back. “Good to see you, Parker.” Then he ambled over to the truck and started pulling our luggage out of the back. I hadn’t realized, until I had a baby, that you needed to take so many bags with you when you traveled. It looked like my days of living out of a backpack when I travel were gone.

Abby hustled us inside, still cooing at Laurel, and directed Adam where to deposit our bags. “I’ve put you downstairs, in the back guest room. I don’t want you to have to run up and down the stairs if you need something for the baby at night.”

“That’s great, Mom. Thank you.” Shiloh kissed his mom’s cheek.

We moved into the kitchen, and Abby, still balancing Laurel in one arm, shifted plates of sandwiches and fruit onto the table. “You boys eat up. I know the food on the train can’t be that good.”

Shiloh’s dad came in from taking our bags to our room and snagged a sandwich, dropping into a chair. “Your mom has everything planned for tomorrow.”

“What’s planned?” I asked, and pulled the tray over to me. I remembered the sandwiches Shiloh made after our first night together. When I glanced at him, he was blushing slightly and I knew he’d picked up on my thoughts. I wondered silently if Grandma would take the baby and let me and Shiloh have a little alone time while we were here. I winked at him.

“The blessing, of course,” Abby said. “I’ve arranged for the food, and the pack will be here tomorrow just before noon. It’s time for Laurel to meet her pack. Isn’t that right, sweetie? That’s right, time for everyone to meet you.” Abby tickled the baby under chin. Laurel blew bubbles at her.

“I… don’t know how this works,” I said, and put my sandwich down. It was sounding more like a ritual and less like the simple visit I thought it was.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Shiloh said, his hand on my arm. “It’s far more informal than you’re thinking.”

“Should we have invited my family?” I asked.

“No, it’s not necessary now. Both our families will be involved in the baby’s first birthday celebration. Now that’s a big deal.” Shiloh smiled at me and bit into a strawberry.

I just shook my head and went back to eating as Shiloh and Abby excitedly discussed plans for the first birthday. They were already making arrangements for a party that was almost a year away. I wasn’t sure I’d ever really understand these rural pack rituals.

We stayed in the kitchen, chatting and eating and fawning over Laurel, until it was time for bed. Shiloh’s cheeks glowed and there was a light in his eyes that’d been missing since he’d been in the city. That night, we opened the windows in our room. For the first time since the baby was born, we made love, slowly and sweetly, as the night air drifted over us, and we fell asleep afterwards with the scent of mountain laurel in our noses.

* * *

Shiloh was slightly more frantic the next morning than I’d ever seen him. He was wearing Laurel in a fabric wrap tied across his chest and directing a group of strapping, teenage shifters who were setting up a tent and tables in the yard.

A truck rattled up the drive and a grizzled old man got out, let down the tailgate, and started pulling covered dish after covered dish out of the back. He hefted a cooler down and then started dragging it all up the steps and into the kitchen. I stood out of the way and tried not to get hit by any of the people now barreling around the Balwin house, prepping for Laurel’s ‘simple’ blessing.

“Oh, Parker, be a dear will you, and go help Adam get those chairs out of the truck.” Abby rushed by me, her hair mussed and her eyes slightly frantic. I didn’t bother arguing; I just did what the crazy-eyed grandmother said.

“Adam, are blessings for babies always like this out here?” I hefted wooden folding chairs out of the back of Adam’s truck and hauled them toward the tent.

“Abby may have gone a bit overboard,” Adam said, “but the pack Alpha insisted the birth of Shiloh’s baby was special.”

“Barrett?” I stopped in my tracks, remembering the rough and aggravated pack leader who’d visited the dig site when we first started work on it.

“Yep.” Adam pulled out the final chairs and slammed the gate on the truck. “Shiloh’s the seer. He’s special to a lot of people here.”

“I see that.” I took the chairs from him and toted them over to the tent.

I hadn’t thought about Shiloh’s standing in the pack when we’d planned this blessing. I hadn’t realized that Laurel might have some sort of special place in the pack, either. I stopped and turned, taking in the landscape around me and the people, the shifters, getting ready to celebrate the birth of my child. There was so much missing from our lives in the city, I was starting to realize. We had become disconnected from our roots as shifters. This was where our lines began, out here in these mountains and deserts, and we had to respect where we’d come from. These pack shifters had a lot to teach us. I hoped I could start learning from them.

* * *

The entire pack was here, sitting under the tent, chatting and laughing. There was a celebratory feeling in the air and I was starting to catch on to the excitement. Finally, the yard was full of cars and trucks and the tent was packed. I was standing at the back with Shiloh, Laurel, Abby, and Adam. The sound of a bell rang through the air and everyone shifted. Abby nudged me in the back. “Go,” she whispered. I stepped forward, walking down the aisle made by the chairs set up on either side.

Shiloh was a step behind me, Laurel in his arms. Abby and Adam followed behind. The pack healer, Mama Ella, was standing at the front of the tent, and there was a grizzled, greyed man sitting on a chair beside her. I didn’t even have to ask to know this was the pack’s elderly seer, the one who trained Shiloh. Even though he was ancient, something about the way he sat reminded me of Shiloh’s straight-backed posture when he meditated.

We stopped in front of Mama Ella. She raised her hands and clapped them together three times. “We are gathered here, at the Balwin home, to celebrate the birth of Laurel Balwin Marks, daughter of alpha Parker Marks and omega Shiloh Balwin, and to bless her.” Mama Ella’s voice rang out over the heads of the gathered pack.

Shiloh stepped forward, nudging me slightly, and I stepped forward too. Shiloh raised Laurel up. “Help hold her,” he whispered. My hands joined Shiloh’s around the baby.

“Baby Laurel,” Mama Ella intoned, “we welcome you to the pack and give to you blessings eternal and infinite.” She dipped her fingers into a bowl the old seer was holding and coated them in orange dirt from the desert floor. She quickly drew two lines across Laurel’s little head and Shiloh spun with the baby, holding her high, showing her off to the crowd. There was a cheer and everyone stood. Then one by one, beginning with Barrett, the entire pack passed Laurel and welcomed her to the pack. It was truly one of the most amazing things I’d ever seen. I couldn’t wait until I could question Shiloh about this practice and do more in-depth study on this particular ritual.

Shiloh looked at me and laughed and I knew he could tell what I was thinking. I shrugged and gave him a grin.

After the last person in the pack, a tiny black-haired boy held up by his dad, welcomed Laurel to the pack, everyone broke away and headed to the tables set up on the porch. Food and drinks lined the tables from one end to the other.

“There’s no way they’re going to eat all that food,” I said to Adam.

“You’ve never been to a pack celebration before. Just wait, there won’t be a crumb to lick off the bottom of a pan after this group gets finished.”

I eyed the mounds of food with amazement.

Person after person passed by, each with a huge plate in their hand, and congratulated me on Laurel. Finally, I figured out I should move out of the way of the buffet line. I searched around and found Shiloh sitting at a table under a shade tree. Laurel was nuzzling into his chest and the ancient seer and pack healer were sitting across from them.

“Parker, good to see you again,” Mama Ella said. “We were just telling Shiloh, it appears little Laurel is gifted like her daddy.”

Shiloh stroked Laurel’s head and beamed. “I already knew,” he said softly.

“You did?” I shouldn’t have been surprised. This was Shiloh, and now our baby was just like him. I had a lot to learn about this pack. So did the outside world, for that matter. The academic world, in particular. I couldn’t wait to get back to work, to talk to Professor Frostburg and Allison about setting up studies, and to start recording the stories I knew Shiloh had to tell me.

“You knew it too, yes?” Mama Ella gave me a toothy grin. “The green eyes. First girl in your family. And you saw in the visioning. Don’t count yourself out just because you’re city. You have your own gifts, Parker.” She patted my hand and then helped the old seer up. They slowly ambled away, their heads together.

I dropped into the chair beside Shiloh and stroked Laurel’s head. She sighed contentedly, nursing in big, long slurps.

“Some day, huh?” Shiloh reached over with one hand, smoothing it across my cheek.

“Something else.” I looked out over the pack, watching everyone mill around, talking and laughing, and the kids running across the yard playing chase. “I get it now. We won’t raise our child in the city. We’ll figure something out.”

“I know.” Shiloh cut a grin at me.

I laughed. Of course he knew. He always did.