Having the Barbarian's Baby (Ice Planet Barbarians, #7.5)

“Dude. Are you crazy?” Josie’s voice escalates and her hands go on her hips. “That was totally a contraction!”


“What?” Tiffany arrives with the hot tea she fetched for me, a startled look on her face. She sets the pink cup down within my reach from my little fur nest and then moves to the fire to stoke it higher. “Is the baby coming?”

“It is,” Josie says. “I’ll go get Maylak!”

“It’s not,” I correct. Well, okay, it kind of is. “There’s still plenty of time. My water hasn’t even broken.”

“Well I’m not gonna check to see if you’re dilated,” Josie retorts. “We’re buddies but we’re not that close. Seriously, I’m going to get the healer.”

“Josie, please.” I hold out the ring that I’m using to braid my leather-macrame hammock. “It can wait, okay? I think I’d know if my baby was coming. Can you help me finish this? I’m so close. Just another hour or two of weaving, I promise.”

She and Tiffany share a dubious look.

They’re good friends to worry about me. “If my water breaks, we’ll get the healer, okay? For now, I really want to finish this.” I wave the ring at her, and when she doesn’t take it, I hold it out to Tiffany.

Tiffany sighs and folds her body gracefully across from my bloated one. “For a little bit longer, then.”

Josie makes an outraged noise but she takes the ring and thumps down. “Fine, fine.”

“Thanks guys. We’re so close to being done.”

“I love you, Megan, but I feel the need to point out that you’re kinda worrying me,” Josie says as she holds the ring and the braided cords out straight so I can move them into place.

“I know.” I work fast, because I’m so close to being done and I want the hammock finished. It’s a lot of cord to braid, but it’s kept me busy over the last two days, and I’m grateful for it. It keeps me focused on the project at hand and not the fact that the weather has picked up, howling and bitter, or that my mate still isn’t home and the baby’s about to make its presence known.

I just…I can’t let the baby be born without his daddy to welcome him into the world. And I can’t worry about the fact that the weather has been so brutally cold that our breath frosts even in the cave, and even the sa-khui themselves have commented on how unusually chilly it is.

Cashol will be fine. He has to be.



Three hours later, I’m putting the finishing knots on the hammock when my water breaks.

“That does it,” Josie declares, jumping to her feet. “I’m getting Maylak.”

My belly gives another hard, angry contraction, swallowing my protest. The baby’s coming, and my mate isn’t here. I start to weep, then, because this is all wrong. This isn’t how my baby’s birth is supposed to go.

“Now, now, honey,” Tiffany says soothingly. She takes me by the arm. “Let’s get you on your feet and get cleaned up, okay?”

“Cashol said he’d be here,” I say between sniffles. “He promised.”

“I’m sure he’s on his way back right now.” She rubs my back and helps me up, and then helps me peel off my tunic. “Let’s get some fresh blankets and some water for you to drink. Maylak’s on her way and we’ll get this baby born in no time.”

That just makes me cry harder.

Maylak arrives with Josie a few minutes later, a smile on her gentle blue face. Her hand is on her own rounded belly and she moves to my side, rubbing my arm. “I see our newest tribe member has decided to arrive.”

“But my mate’s not here,” I say tearily. “Cashol said he’d be back for the baby’s birth. He promised.”

Her three-fingered hand touches my belly and in response, another contraction rips through me. “I think your kit is tired of waiting. It is very close now. Your body is ready.”

My body might be, but my brain is still full of protests. Another contraction surges and the intense need to bear down rushes through me.

“Very close,” Maylak murmurs again. “Come. Teef-nee, please spread the birthing furs out for her in the corner so she can squat?”

I weep but let her lead me over. My mind is focused on the worst - Cashol stuck out on the trails, injured and unable to return home. Cashol dead and frozen in the snow. He’ll never see his son born. I’ll never get to hold him again, or hear his silly suggestions for baby names. I just cry harder, because I miss him and need him so much right now.

“I don’t want to raise a family without him,” I wail, even as Maylak holds my hand and leads me over to the fresh furs that Tiffany has spread out. “I can’t do this!”

“You can,” Maylak says in an unruffled voice.

“You’re okay,” Tiffany soothes. Her expression is worried. “Really, Megan, it’s going to be okay.”

“It’s not!”

Maylak rubs her hand on my cramping belly, and I realize I’m naked. I guess it doesn’t matter. It’s not like anything matters if my mate isn’t coming home. “New mothers are always very dramatic in birth,” she says to Tiffany. “She is fine.”