The leather jacket had belonged to Tommy. Its heavy material slowed the bleeding and protected Chloe from the freezing rain while she crawled toward the only distant light she could see through the forest.
Silas’s cabin.
Another contraction seized her. She cried out and clutched the table so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
“The baby is too early,” she sobbed.
“Early does not mean lost,” Silas said. “Look at me. You are frightened, but you are not alone anymore.”
Barnaby suddenly stood near the fireplace and growled again.
Silas heard an engine outside.
He moved to the darkened window and saw headlights creeping up the muddy driveway. A black SUV stopped several yards from the porch. Two men stepped out beneath the freezing rain, one carrying a flashlight while the other kept a hand beneath his coat.
Silas returned to Chloe.
“Do not make a sound,” he whispered. “Whatever happens, stay away from the windows.”
He stepped outside and closed the heavy oak door behind him.
The flashlight struck his face.
“We’re searching for a woman,” one of the strangers called. “Blonde, pregnant, driving alone. Her car went off the ridge.”
Silas allowed his shoulders to sag. “I haven’t seen anyone.”
The man moved closer and pointed the light toward the boards near the door. A faint pink trail remained where the rain had mixed with Chloe’s blood.
“What is that?”
Silas looked down. “Cleaned a deer there yesterday.”
The second man stepped toward the stairs. “We should check inside.”
Silas straightened.
The frail old widower disappeared from his posture. In his place stood the experienced trauma nurse who had faced drunk attackers, frightened families, and desperate people in emergency rooms without surrendering control.