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Callum stared down at the phone in his hand long after he and Dustin disconnected their call. He didn’t even know what he’d said to the man after he’d heard Sloane was pregnant. He would have to worry about that later. He had much bigger problems right now.

Pregnant .

The word pulsed through his veins, each syllable a thundering heartbeat.

Sloane padded into the living room, dressed in the flannel pajamas she liked so much—the only nonessential item he’d seen her buy since getting her job—her dark hair damp and curling around her face. “Shower’s free if you want it.” Her voice was light, oblivious.

He stared at her, jaw clenched. Searching her face for signs of the news he’d just discovered, for clues he’d missed. But there was only the delicate glow of her skin, the gentle swell of her breasts beneath soft fabric.

Pregnant .

“When were you going to tell me?” The words felt thick and heavy on his tongue.

It only took her a second to understand what he meant. She blanched. “How…how do you know?”

“Does it matter?” He took a step closer, phone still clutched in his hand like a lifeline. “Is it true?”

She nodded, slowly, as if the motion took immense effort. “Yes.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“You’re sure?” He had to know beyond a shadow of a doubt.

“I’ve taken multiple tests. Dr. Annie confirmed it again last week at my appointment.” She wrapped her arms protectively around her middle.

Last week. The knowledge settled like a stone in his gut. He’d seen Annie multiple times since then—in line at the grocery store, walking her dog on Main Street. He knew, logically, that doctor-patient confidentiality would have prevented her from saying anything.

But still, it rankled. Stung like salt in an open wound that everyone else seemed to know this monumental, life-changing fact except him.

The questions ricocheted through his mind, firing rapidly from his lips. “How long have you known? Does the whole damn town know except me? Were you ever planning to actually tell me?”

His voice rose with each inquiry, anger and fear and confusion all blurring together.

She flinched at his tone but met his gaze. “Callum, please. Of course I was going to tell you…”

“When, Sloane? When were you going to tell me? After the kid was born?” He regretted the harshness of his words instantly as tears welled in her blue eyes.

Pregnant . A baby.

Her lower lip trembled, but she squared her shoulders. “I was going to tell you today, before the rain started. I swear, Callum. Besides Dr. Annie, you’re the only one who knows other than my family. And that…that didn’t go how I planned.”

He frowned, momentarily distracted from his own swirling emotions. “What do you mean?”

She took a shaky breath. “They didn’t know about…about us. What happened between us. So, when I told them I was pregnant, they assumed…” She swallowed hard. “They thought I’d been raped while I was kidnapped.”

Ice flooded his veins. The thought of someone hurting her like that, violating her… He would forever be thankful that hadn’t happened. But right now, that wasn’t the issue. He forced himself to focus.

“They wanted me to terminate the pregnancy,” she continued, her voice cracking. “They even tried to trick me into taking the abortion pills. That’s why I ran away. I didn’t know if they’d…” A single tear tracked down her cheek. “If they’d force me.”

Callum dragged a hand over his face, struggling to process everything. His protective instincts warred with the lingering sense of betrayal, all underscored by a burgeoning anxiety.

A baby. Jesus.

“I don’t understand,” he said finally, grasping for some semblance of logic, of reason, in all this chaos. “We used protection.”

She swiped at her damp cheeks. “The doctor said condoms are only, like, 97% effective. They don’t work all the time.” Her hand drifted to her still-flat stomach. “Apparently this was one of those times.”

97%. He’d staked his entire future on a mere 97%. A hysterical laugh bubbled up in his throat, but he tamped it down. This was unbelievable. Impossible. And yet, undeniably real and happening, whether he was ready for it or not.

He paced the small room, his mind reeling. He whirled to face Sloane. “What are you going to do?” He raked a hand through his hair again. “I mean, do you want this baby? Are you going to keep it?”

“Of course I’m keeping it. I literally climbed out a window to get us somewhere safe, Callum.” She shook her head, hugging herself tightly. “I’m not giving up this baby.”

“Why didn’t you tell me as soon as you got here?” Once again, the words came out harsher than he intended. But fuck’s sake , he just didn’t know how to deal with this.

She flinched but lifted her chin. “I wanted a little time to figure out if you were interested in me. Me for me . Not just because I’m pregnant.” Her voice dropped to a near whisper. “I didn’t want you to feel trapped.”

Trapped . The word reverberated through Callum’s skull.

Was that what this was? Some cosmic twist of fate shackling him to a responsibility he never asked for?

He resumed his agitated pacing, vaguely aware that he was handling this badly. Interrogating her like a suspect, when all she’d done was try to protect herself. Protect their…

No. He couldn’t go there. Not yet.

He halted abruptly, a new, terrible thought crystallizing in his mind. He turned slowly to face her, hating himself even as the words spilled out. “How do I even know it’s mine?”

The color drained from her face, and Callum felt like the lowest form of scum. Her eyes swam with fresh tears, devastation and disbelief mingling with hurt and anger.

“Wait, I didn’t mean…” He reached for her, but she jerked away, arms curling protectively around her middle once again.

His phone erupted with a shrill chime, shattering the terrible silence. Callum hesitated, part of him wanting to fling the device against the wall. But the ringtone indicated the sheriff’s department. He had to take it. Wordlessly, he connected the call and lifted the phone to his ear, never taking his eyes off Sloane’s pale, stricken face.

“This is Webb.”

The voice of one of his deputies crackled through the line, strained and urgent. “We’ve got a situation, Sheriff. Massive multivehicle pileup just outside Jackson. They’re requesting all available units for assistance. It’s bad, sir. Multiple casualties.”

Jackson was about ten miles from Oak Creek, and the two towns helped each other as much as possible. Callum tightened his grip on the phone, a second sick feeling swirling in his gut, this one having to do with dead people rather than Sloane’s revelation.

“I’m on my way. Call in off-duty personnel, and notify the hospital to prepare for incoming wounded.”

He ended the call, shoving down the emotions roiling inside him. He had a job to do. People were counting on him. He met Sloane’s gaze, seeing his own turmoil reflected back at him.

“I have to go.” His voice came out harsher than he intended. “There’s been an accident. They need me on the scene.”

Sloane bit her lip and nodded, wrapping her arms more tightly around herself. “I understand.”

Callum hesitated, knowing he should say something more. Apologize. Reassure her. But the words stuck in his throat, trapped behind the mess of emotions he couldn’t even begin to untangle.

“We’ll finish this later,” he managed. A pathetic offering, but it was all he had.

The storm almost made it feel like it was nighttime rather than the middle of the afternoon. Lightning flashed, illuminating the mangled wreckage of eight vehicles strewn across the slick highway. Rain pummeled down, drenching Callum to the bone as he raced toward the nearest overturned SUV.

Cries of pain and fear pierced the air in between bouts of thunder. He glanced over his shoulder, spotting his deputies and the Jackson township officers scrambling to reach victims trapped in twisted metal.

Only one ambulance had made it through so far. The paramedics darted between vehicles, trying to assess who needed help most urgently. Callum’s heart clenched. There were far too many injured and not nearly enough first responders to handle them all.

He reached the SUV and dropped down, peering through the shattered window at a woman slumped over the steering wheel, blood matting her blonde hair. “Ma’am, can you hear me?” No response. Callum reached through the opening, feeling for a pulse at her neck. Nothing.

His shoulders sagged. One more life lost in this senseless tragedy, the cause for which they didn’t know yet. They were up to at least four bodies at this point.

A cry sent Callum scrambling to the next car. A teenage girl was regaining consciousness. She was bleeding from a cut at her scalp, and her arm was obviously broken.

“Hey there, kiddo. You’re going to be okay,” he soothed, forcing a reassuring smile. “We’re going get you out of there real soon, I promise. But right now, I need you just to stay here and not move until a paramedic comes, okay?”

The girl nodded, eyes dazed.

He turned, frantically searching for a medic. They needed to prioritize this girl—her head wound could be indicative of a concussion or a possible brain bleed. One of the EMTs met his gaze and nodded, hurrying over with a backboard and neck brace.

Callum moved on to the next victim. Triaging was brutal, having to choose who got immediate aid and who would have to wait, suffering longer. His soul fractured a little each time he came across someone too far gone to save, their eyes open but unseeing.

With a deep breath, Callum forged ahead into the chaos, the lightning illuminating his path through the unforgiving storm.

He gritted his teeth as he approached the next vehicle, the high-pitched wails of a toddler in distress piercing the storm. Peering inside, he found a boy, definitely not older than eighteen months, strapped into his car seat, face red and tear-streaked as he screamed for comfort.

With a quick once-over, Callum noted no visible blood or obvious fractures. The boy’s robust cries indicated he wasn’t in critical condition, but the poor kid was undoubtedly terrified. Callum’s eyes shifted to the front seat, where the child’s mother lay slumped against the steering wheel, unresponsive.

“Please, God, let her be alive,” he whispered, reaching through the shattered window to press two fingers against her neck. A wave of relief washed over him as he detected a steady pulse. He held a hand in front of her mouth. She was breathing. She would make it.

Callum began to pull away, intending to report the mother’s condition to the paramedics, when her eyelids fluttered open. “M-my son,” she rasped, her unfocused gaze darting around in panic. “Where’s my baby?”

“He’s in his car seat, ma’am,” Callum assured her, his voice calm and soothing. “He’s scared but doesn’t appear hurt.”

“Please let me hold him. He’s afraid. He already doesn’t like storms.”

“It would probably be better to wait until the paramedics check both of you out. Make sure you have no neck or head injuries. It should only be a few minutes.” Although Callum knew it would be longer than that.

And the mother wasn’t going to wait anyway. She started trying to get the car door open. When she found it was jammed, she turned to try to climb over the seat to the wailing child.

He stopped her. “Wait. Let me get him for you.” She was going to do more damage trying to get to the boy.

Moving to the back door, Callum carefully unbuckled the thrashing toddler from his seat.

“Hey there, little man,” he murmured, lifting the boy into his arms. “Let’s go see your mama, okay?”

The moment Callum placed the child in his mother’s embrace, the boy’s cries quieted, his small body melting into her protective hold. Even in her dazed state, the woman’s maternal instinct took over as she cradled her son close, whispering comforting words Callum couldn’t quite make out.

As he watched the touching scene, Callum’s thoughts drifted to Sloane.

Pregnant .

She was pregnant with his child, a fact he knew was true despite his asinine question earlier about whether the baby was his.

In that instant, he knew with absolute certainty that if Sloane were in this mother’s place, she would move heaven and earth to hold their baby, to offer solace amid the chaos. She possessed a strength and a compassion that never ceased to amaze him. She would be an incredible mother.

He left the two of them and threw himself back into the fray, his focus laser-sharp despite the exhaustion seeping into his bones. He worked alongside the paramedics, triaging patients, offering comfort where he could, and making the gut-wrenching decisions no one should ever have to make.

Minutes bled into hours as the storm raged on, the relentless rain soaking through his clothing and chilling him to the core. Finally, as the day turned to early evening, reinforcements arrived. Fresh-faced EMTs and officers from neighboring towns poured onto the scene, their presence a welcome relief. Callum stepped back, allowing them to take over, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the day’s events.

Both the chaos here at the accident scene and the chaos he’d caused at his house by his words.

The paperwork for all of this would have to wait a few hours. He had more pressing matters to attend to.

With a nod to his deputies, Callum strode toward his cruiser, his mind already racing ahead to the conversation he needed to have with Sloane. He had reacted poorly to the news of her pregnancy, his shock and fear overriding the response and support she deserved.

As he navigated the slick, winding roads back to town, Callum searched for the right words to say how fucking sorry he was about his abysmal handling of the situation.

He wanted to talk to her. Make sure she was okay. She had to be as thrown off by this unexpected development as he was. She’d just had a little more time to process it.

He pulled up at his house, but when he stepped inside, all he heard was silence. No warm light spilled from the bedroom, no soft footfalls echoed on the hardwood floors.

“Sloane?” he called out, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of his stomach.

He searched the house room by room, his unease growing with each empty space. Her clothes weren’t here, her toiletries missing from the bathroom counter.

Sloane was gone.