“What a good suggestion,” Leah said. “How about we look through the cabinets and see what there is, maybe make some tea, and figure out what the sleeping arrangements are going to be?”
“Adadada,” Emily said.
“Glad to hear you agree with me.” Leah hoisted Emily up onto her hip and went to check out the kitchen, walking very carefully on her injured feet.
In the kitchen cabinets, like Jeff had said, there were sealed containers holding flour, sugar, rice, beans, pasta, and oatmeal, as well as a tin with several kinds of tea in it. In Leah’s car, she had more granola bars and trail mix, but also apples, bread, peanut butter, and almond milk, which she’d figured she could keep in a heated car without worrying that it would spoil like regular milk.
So, they could have peanut butter sandwiches and granola bars for dinner tonight, and then tomorrow they could make oatmeal with almond milk and apple slices for breakfast. That sounded good.
Leah turned her attention to the other two rooms of the cabin. The bathroom was in working order, thankfully, so she used it—it had been a while by now—and then turned to the bedroom.
The room was freezing cold, of course, so she opened the door and hoped that some of the heat from the fire would make it in. There was only one bed, queen-sized.
Leah looked back out at the couch in the main room. It was small, more like a loveseat than an actual couch. But she could fit on it if she curled up, probably. Jeff could sleep in here, then, and she’d keep Emily in the Pack-n-Play, near enough to the fire that she’d stay plenty warm.
Right now, though, the mattress was bare. Leah looked in the closet and found sheets, blankets, pillows, and pillowcases packed in a couple of big plastic bins, probably to keep any pests out of them. She put Emily down in the center of the bed. The baby patted the surface of the mattress, curious.
“Want to play a game?” Leah asked her.
***
Jeff found Leah’s car without too much trouble. He winced at the broken window and the snow drifting in over the backseat.
When he’d found the car the first time, he’d felt a chill of fear at the idea of the baby in the car seat getting hurt by the glass. Now, even though he knew Emily was safe, the idea was even worse.
Thank God nothing had happened to that little girl. Thank God Leah was okay, and only the car had been hurt.
Jeff brushed the snow out of the car as best he could, wishing he had a tarp or some way of tacking a blanket up over the gap. He did a quick, thorough search, turning up basic food supplies and the Pack-n-Play in its bag without much trouble, although it took a few minutes to realize that the smallish gray rectangle was actually a folded-up playpen. Leah hadn’t been kidding about it folding up small.
He also found an overnight bag, crammed into the trunk alongside a ton of things that were very clearly for Emily. The bag held a few changes of clothes, some toiletries and makeup, an older-model laptop, and a book on gardening.
The rest of the car held pillows and blankets, kitchen items, the food, the diaper bag, and other necessities. She’d packed up her entire household into this car, and everything that was Leah’s alone fit into this one small bag.
Jeff took the bag along. The laptop probably wouldn’t enjoy the deep freeze of the night, and Leah would need clothes to change into.
He jogged back to the cabin, his innate sense of direction pointing the way for him even though it was thoroughly dark by now. Snow leopards were comfortable hunting at night; in the wild, they were most likely to be awake at dawn and dusk. Jeff had always found that he was able to make his way around at night almost as easily as during the day, even in human form.
The lights in the cabin windows were still burning cheerily when he arrived, but he opened the door to see the fire starting to gutter a bit in the fireplace, and no one in the main room.
“Hello?” he called, suddenly worried that something had happened.
But then he heard, “In here!” from the open bedroom door, followed by a shriek of laughter.
Curious, already smiling in anticipation of what he might find, Jeff quickly shucked off his boots and his outer layer of clothing and hopped it over to the bedroom.
When he reached the door, he saw Emily sitting in the center of the mattress, looking up, her arms raised, giggling madly.
“Ready?” Leah said, laughter in her voice, and Emily giggled harder. “Here we go!”
She snapped out a sheet over Emily’s head, and it drifted down to settle over the baby, leaving a sheet with a suspiciously baby-sized lump sticking up in the middle. The lump started shaking as Emily laughed even harder.
“Where’s Emily?” Leah wondered out loud. “Where did she go? Could she be...here?” And she swept Emily up off the bed, sheet and all, tucking her under her arm and whirling her around.
Emily shrieked joyfully, and Leah finished off by tossing the baby back onto the mattress with a flourish. There was another happy shriek, and then Emily pawed her way out of the sheet, waving her arms madly.
“Wow, it’s a party in here,” Jeff said, smiling.
He kept his tone joking, but really, the sight of Leah tossing a laughing Emily onto the bed made his chest ache a bit. Walking in the door, taking off his boots, and coming into the bedroom to find mom and baby laughing and playing...this was something he wanted for himself.