Page 6 of Blizzard Babies (Alaska Blizzard #6.5)

Gage

Laurel should have been home a long time ago.

As I stare out at the dark, ominous sky and the snow whipping across the yard, I’m not sure what to do.

I’ve been calling her for an hour, but it goes straight to voicemail.

Getting in my truck and going out to look for her will be a waste of time.

There are whiteout conditions everywhere, and I can barely see what’s right outside my door, much less anything on the road.

I’ve been pacing for the last fifteen minutes, trying to come up with a plan, but Mother Nature doesn’t give a fuck about my plans. Normally, I’m a take-action kind of guy. The problem is figuring out what kind of action to take in a god damn blizzard.

I try not to think about worst-case scenarios, where the girls were in an accident, but how can I not? If they pulled over somewhere or decided it was too dangerous to drive all the way here, one of them would have called.

Charli, Sara, and Whitney all have generators at their houses, so I would’ve heard from Laurel if she was with one of them. The fact that I haven’t tells me something happened.

And I’ve never been good at feeling helpless.

I itch to call one of their husbands, to ask if they’ve heard from them, but that would just worry them for no reason. They’re on the other side of the continent, so what good will it do me to get them involved at this early stage of whatever’s going on?

Sitting here and doing nothing isn’t going to cut it, though.

Matthew is with his nanny, so I go into the closet in our bedroom and start to change my clothes.

Thermal underwear, sweats, and then waterproof ski pants, followed by a thick, fur-lined sweater and the waterproof jacket that goes with the pants.

My ski mask, a hat, gloves come next, along with two pairs of socks and fur-lined boots.

I grab my coat out of the closet downstairs on my way out.

I pause in the bathroom to grab some air activated hand and foot warmers, stuffing them in zippered pockets.

I have an old-fashioned compass in the garage, and while I’m not sure how useful it will be, I’m trying to cover all my bases.

Going out on my snowmobile probably isn’t the brightest thing I’ve ever done, but my gut is screaming that something is wrong so there’s no way I’m going to just sit here and wait.

My phone rings as I’m checking the gas on the snowmobile and I yank it out of my pocket without even looking at who was calling.

“Laurel?!”

There’s a slight hesitation on the line. “Uh, no. This is Miikka.”

“Miikka.”

Shit .

That was an error on my part.

Now I have to tell him something is wrong.

“Hey, man.” I clear my throat. “What’s up?”

“Is Charli there with you?”

Fuck fuck fuck.

“No.” I let out a huff. “I haven’t been able to reach them in nearly two hours.”

He mutters something in Finnish.

“I’m going out to look for them,” I say.

“Where?” he asks dubiously.

“I’m taking the snowmobile.”

“How bad is the storm?” he asks.

“It’s not terrible yet.”

But it’s close to terrible. Pseudo-terrible. Getting terrible.

Yeah, I’m not going to tell him that.

“On the news it says it is terrible,” he counters.

Miikka isn’t stupid and he’s as protective of Charli and I am of my wife.

“I’m going to look for them,” I repeat, since I don’t know what else to say.

“Where were they?” he demands.

“I don’t know,” I snap, before taking a deep breath.

“Why did you let them go out?!”

I laugh.

I can’t help it. “Do you know our wives? Like I could have stopped any of them? My wife in particular.”

He lets out a string of curses in Finnish. “What do we do?” he asks finally.

“ We do nothing. You’re in Boston. I’m going to look for them.”

“Is dangerous,” he says after a moment.

“What’s the alternative?”

“What’re you doing, man?” Jake’s voice comes on the line. “What do you know? Miikka’s too busy cursing in other languages for me to sort it out.”

I sigh and tell him the little bit I know. “They went to breakfast and then to Laurel’s favorite spa. Last time I heard from Laurel, they were on the way home.”

“How long ago?”

I hesitate. “Almost two hours.”

“Even with them driving slow and careful, that’s at least an hour too long.”

“Exactly.”

“So they have to be somewhere between the spa and home.”

“Right. But I don’t know if they took surface streets or the highway.”

“Charli prefers highway.” I can hear Miikka’s voice in the background. “Especially now with the morning sickness. Stop and go makes it worse.”

I nod. “I’ll start with the highway then.”

“Be careful,” Jake says.

“Let people know where you are and make sure you have backup,” someone else says. Maybe Kane? Jake has me on speaker phone now, so it’s hard to discern all the voices in the background.

But I need backup.

Who do I have to back me up? I don’t keep a full-time bodyguard, and the security guards at the house are basically rent-a-cops. They won’t know what to do in an emergency like this.

“I’ve got to get going, guys,” I say finally. “The longer I wait, the worse the storm is going to get.”

“Call Dr. Harjo,” Aaron calls out. “And give him the route you’re taking. Even if he can’t actually help you, he’ll know where you are and if you don’t check in by a certain time, he has access to emergency services because of the clinic.”

I’m not sure how a veterinarian could help, but Dr. Harjo has a good head on his shoulders, and they’re right that I need someone to have my back.

Just in case.

The nanny and my housekeeper will only be stressed, so it’s better to talk to someone with a little emotional detachment. He’s close to Sara, of course, but he’ll keep it together in this situation.

“All right, let me go,” I say. “I’ll keep you updated, but I’m not sure how much cell service I’ll have once I leave the house. I haven’t been able to reach the girls, so that tells me it’s ugly out there.”

“Stay safe, man.” Jake’s voice is quiet.

“I’ll do my best.”

“And bring the girls home,” Miikka adds.

That’s my only goal.