BABY GIRL

Chapter 5

He stepped into the snow, moving carefully a layer of ice was just below it. Neal looked down at the tiny baby bundled against his chest. He'd wrapped her in a pink blanket he found in Annie's bag and carefully zipped her under his thermal vest. He held the tiny head filled with spiky black hair in the palm of his hand against his shoulder. He watched her breathe and every tiny breath was precious.

The trees were so dense and tangled he couldn't see the moon. He was moving more by instinct than any certainty of where he was. If he could make it back to the clearance, Peter and the cabin wouldn't be much farther.

The woods were unearthly quiet, save for the tiny yelps the baby made, much like a small kitten. She was easily soothed with a pat on the back. "That's it baby girl," she looked up at him with deep green watchful eyes.

Neal was shivering but he forced himself to be steady. He fought the cold and snow soaking through his jacket. If he went in the wrong direction, they would die. He couldn't let panic overtake him, the first wave of losing Annie had passed over him. He felt her now, the supremacy of her love guiding them through the veil of falling snow.

Together they had traveled more than a lifetime in the brief time they knew each other. They witnessed the future being born, he looked down at the tiny baby cradled against his chest. This was real, this was life; not something he dreamed to protect himself from sorrow. He wanted to love again, to have a bridge to the future, to see the possibility of himself moving forward. He was coming awake.

He barely realized he'd been running when he stopped momentarily under a canopy of pines to catch his breath. "Move faster," he whispered to himself. "Go," he could hear Annie's voice echo in his head. With every step he wished for only one thing, for her baby to live. He made a promise to the night, in the well of time spreading out beyond him. Annie's baby would live, he would make certain of it. In the darkness of the woods a light flickered in his eyes.

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The falling snow was gaining muster, at least four more inches had fallen since Neal left. The temperature continued to plummet. These woods were dangerous at night. Peter tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. He swept the beam from his flashlight in an arc, back and forth from side to side. Fat heavy flakes swirled around him.

He thought he saw a shadow moving in the darkness. He made another pass with his flashlight and this time caught a patch of red through the trees.

"Neal!" he shouted running forward his legs and chest burning from the strain. "I've been searching for you. What in God's earth were you thinking? You could freeze to death out here."

Peter waved the flashlight over Neal and saw bloodstains on his red vest and jacket.

"Is that blood?" panic rising in his chest.

"It's not mine, Peter."

"Neal talk to me," and as if on cue the baby cried out, despite her calm temperament, her cries pierced through the cold night. Peter reached out his hand toward the bundle under Neal's red vest, his head was spinning. "Neal? Whose baby is this? What happened?"

"Her mother died. I'll tell you everything, later. Right now we have to get her warm."

All the pain and loss was gone from Neal's face, what remained was a fierce look of determination, a fire burning in his eyes… all Peter's questions dissolved in his throat.

"All right," he said. They needed to get back as quickly as possible, Neal's jeans were wet to his knees and icy crystals matted his hair. How he had come this far was a miracle, but he wouldn't make it much longer and neither would the tiny face looking up at him if they didn't get to shelter.

"We got a problem." Peter wrapped the heavy parka he was carrying around Neal and the baby, checking for frostbite.

"What kind of problem?" Neal asked teeth chattering.

"Before I lost cell service I called the sheriff's office to have them help look for you. The storm caused a major pile up north of here and everyone's working it. The roads are closed both ways."

"Peter, we have to get her to a hospital."

"There's a back road to town from the lake. I think Dad's old truck can get through. Stay close and follow me, the clearing is just ahead."

The way back was tough going. Neal at Peter's shoulder as they follow his tracks back to the clearing, the moon had finally appeared in the sky. Before long they could see the light from the cabin ahead. Peter threw open the door taking the stairs two at a time to his bedroom. He snatched up a handful of towels, flannel shirts… anything he could find to warm Neal and the baby.

Neal frantically stripped away his jacket and opened his vest, he looked down at the tiny face and her eyes were closed, her lips tinged with blue. He put the back of his hand to her small mouth, she was breathing. He tore away the cold blanket and started to massage her tiny feet and arms. He looked up at Peter who was standing next to him now.

"Hand me that," he said pointing to the flannel shirt Peter was holding in his hand. He wrapped the baby snuggly into it. Her cheeks began to pink up and small wails filled the cabin.

"Atta girl. That's good," he said. Neal could feel her warmth returning, her certainty, and Annie's breath coursing through her. He half expected to see her standing there.

Peter was looking at him as if he had just realized something again. He could see it clearly, the change he prayed for had come to his friend, it had come the way he always expected…through his heart. It was if everything Neal owned or ever wanted was wrapped up in that flannel shirt.

"I'm going to warm up the truck." Peter stepped into the snow, quickly crossed the drive and slid into his Dad's old truck glistening with snow in the moonlight. He pulled the choke and turned the ignition. "C'mon," Peter prayed. He listened for the little cough of life as the trusty old truck came to life. He got the heat going and returned to the cabin.

"Is it running," Neal looked up at him anxiously holding the baby, her skin was pinker as her face poked out from under the folds of flannel.

"Yeah, give her to me. Change, you're soaking wet."

"Okay, thank you Peter.

The truck was warm and easily took the snow packed road. The tires didn't have much traction, but Peter knew these roads he and his father had travelled many times on endless fishing and camping trips. He touched Neal gently on the shoulder and gunned the engine. They didn't speak on the ride in, they didn't have to as Neal concentrated on the small bundle in his lap.

Once the baby disappeared into the wide doors behind the emergency room entrance, Neal sat in a plastic chair put his head back and closed his eyes. Peter took the opportunity to make some calls.

"The highway patrol found the van and recovered Annie's body. I called the baby's father. He's on his way up." Peter looked down at Neal, "Any word?"

"Not yet. Peter, I…" Neal's voice began to crack.

"It's okay, buddy. You saved her life." He sat down next to Neal and wrapped his arm around his shoulder and waited on news. They both stood as the door opened and the doctor approached. Are you here for baby girl Turner?"

"Yes, how is she? Is she okay?" Neal asked nervously.

"She's doing just fine," the doctor smiled. "You can see her in just a bit."

Neal sat back down in the plastic chair. Having successfully protected himself from grief these past months, he collapsed in Peter's arms and cried. For so long he had felt nothing, now it was so much, to feel so much. Peter could see it in his eyes as he held him. Peter smiled and thought At last.

After some time Neal shifted, wiped his eyes with the palms of his hands and looked over to Peter.

"I want your forgiveness."

"Why?" Peter said gently.

"Because I can't stay. I can't live my life in a two-mile radius. I'm sorry."

He thought about Annie kissing her baby goodbye, her devotion to escaping the past, her duty to try. He thought about Peter's force field, about the honorable man next to him who had faith in him when he'd given up. He thought about the baby, the bewitching beautiful creature who made the rest of the world fall away.

"You were right, Peter. It's possible to forge a new life… a future and I want to try. I want my freedom, Peter."

They could both feel the truth in it. Peter held Neal tightly as though he'd never loosen his grip, but he would. He knew he couldn't keep him. He didn't want to. He knew one day soon Neal would run and on that day he wouldn't chase him. Peter would let him go, but tonight was not that night.

The end.