It was the beginning of April and the outside air was pleasingly warm without the usual humidity that would set in as they neared summer. Recent thunderstorms had left an earthy scent on the wind as it blew through the open windows of the farmhouse. As the sun was setting behind it, the lights inside gleamed like eyes against the darkening landscape.

Inside, Cheyanne sat on the couch, slumped back far enough to stretch her legs far out in front of her and her head to rest on the back. Her pregnant belly, only a month away from term, sat heavily in her lap, forcing her to spread her thighs apart and would sooner-than-later make her legs fall asleep. She rested her hands on her belly, smoothing her fur down and poking self-consciously at her protruding bellybutton, poking far out in front from the pressure of her womb.
Chey’s baby belly had finally stopped growing ‘out’ and instead had begun to grow heavier and tighter. There was very little give to her stomach anymore, which Lynn described as feeling like an over-inflated volleyball. This served to make the kicks and punches of their pup that much easier to feel. The doctor had told Cheyanne and Lynn that, as the pup became more engaged in Chey’s birth canal, that he’d have less room to move. This apparently didn’t stop him from trying, which forced Cheyanne to feel every wiggle and every poke against the inside of her oversensitive, overtaxed, overlarge, and overpregnant belly.

Cheyanne burped and made a pained grimace as another bubble of indigestion burned in her stomach, buried somewhere beneath nearly eight pounds of baby. She rubbed the top of her belly, wincing again as her thumb brushed against one of her swollen, tender breasts, which had finally seen fit to catch up with the rest of her growing body and had doubled in size over the past month and had begun leaking at inconvenient moments throughout the day.
Naturally, Cheyanne wasn’t enjoying the third trimester.

While Chey occupied the couch and fumed, Lynn was busy darting around the house, dusting and cleaning every surface she could reach (and even some she couldn’t). She’d tied back her ears and her hair into a bun and wore one of her wife’s hats to keep them out of the way. Chey watched in amusement as Lynn emerged and disappeared from room after room, her paws clicking loudly on the wooden floors.
After a while, Lynn finally slowed down as she entered the living room, panting with her tongue out of her mouth while holding a loose trashbag in one hand and a small broom in the other. She caught her breath and swiveled her head around the room like a bird, silently checking if there was anything else left to do.

“Ain’t I the one that’s ‘sposed to start nesting?” Cheyanne teased from the couch.
“I’m just making sure everything looks okay!” Lynn said, defensively. She dropped the trashbag on the other side of the couch and held the broom in both hands as she began sweeping it underneath where Cheyanne was sitting. “They’ve never been here before. I don’t want there to be dirt everywhere for their first impression.”
“I don’t think you can get too far from dirt way out here in the country, Lynn,” Cheyanne remarked, shifting in her seat to give Lynn room beneath the couch and to keep her tail from falling asleep beneath her. “That’s just a fact of life.”
“It’s the dust that’s the problem,” Lynn complained. “We need a better vacuum.”
“We can check on the internet,” Cheyanne said, pronouncing each syllable separately. She paused, then sighed through her nose and clutched her rounded belly with both hands. “I can still help if ya want me to. I hate just sittin’ here not doing nothin’.”
“You are doing something!” Lynn responded cheerily. She set down the broom and patted Chey’s stomach. “You’re busy gestating.”

Cheyanne grimaced at the choice of words, then shrugged as she glanced down at her gravid, heavy body.
“Yeah well…that don’t mean I can’t be useful. I still got hands, don’t I?” She folded her ears back and shook her head. “I can’t even help you with mornin’ chores anymore. Makes me feel pretty damn useless sometimes if all I can do is just…sit here.”
“Chey, c’mon…” Lynn said gently as she set down the broom and climbed onto the couch beside her pregnant wife. She expected to see tears in Cheyanne’s eyes in a moment; she got just as emotional as any other pregnant woman with crazy hormones, but it took a while for Lynn to recognize when it was coming or what Chey’s triggers were. Lynn touched Cheyanne’s shoulder and held her hand. “We knew this was gonna happen eventually, didn’t we? It’s not safe for you or the baby to be running around when you’re this big.”
“I mean…I can handle it,” Cheyanne shrugged. She was trying to sound nonchalant, but turned her head aside and bit her lip to keep her voice from trembling. She hated letting Lynn see her cry.

“Chey, I was joking before, but I really mean it when I say you’re not doing just nothing.” Lynn touched Cheyanne’s belly, noticing how warm it felt against her palm and how thin Chey’s fur was. “Pregnancy takes a lot of energy when you’re this far along. Even if you’re not actively doing it, your body is still working hard on putting the finishing touches on the pup.” Lynn shifted closer and spread her hands far apart over Cheyanne’s belly. “Especially one as big as this.”
Cheyanne sniffed and wiped her face with her palm before turning back to Lynn and smiling, watching her wife lovingly caress her pregnant middle.
“He ain’t a runt, that’s for damn sure,” Chey remarked, grunting slightly as their son slid his paw against the side of her womb. “I guess you’re right, but it don’t make me feel too much better.”
“Okay, then I know what will,” Lynn said, grinning. “I was going to ask if you would like to make dinner for everybody tonight. They’ve probably never had a meal from real stuff from a farm, and you can cook better than anybody I know.” Lynn paused to pat Cheyanne’s big belly and said, “And you’re probably the only one who knows exactly how much you need to eat.”
“Hey, it ain’t my fault the little fella needs so much extra,” Cheyanne complained, but with a happy smile growing on her face. “…Figure they might like breakfast for supper?”
“They’ll love it,” Lynn smiled. “Lucky for us you get cravings for stuff everybody can eat.”

“If this baby likes pancakes and eggs as much as I think he does,” Cheyanne said with a grin as she touched her stomach, “he’s gonna fit in just fine.”
“I’m almost scared you’ll start lactating maple syrup,” Lynn joked as she sat up from the couch. She paused, glancing at Cheyanne’s light, revealing outfit, and asked, “Are you going to change clothes?”
“Into what, darlin’?” Cheyanne responded with a raised eyebrow. She tugged on the button-up she’d tied into a knot that rested on her bare belly. “Everything I got to wear won’t even fit over half of this. ‘Sides, they’re both gay, right? They won’t care.”
“Even if they are, that’s not the poi-” Lynn stopped and turned toward the front door at the same time as Cheyanne’s ears stood up. The far away sound of crunching tires on their gravel driveway drifted through the open windows. Cheyanne, who was farther to the left, caught sight of a pair of headlights approaching the house.

“They’re here?” Lynn gasped in alarm while checking the time on her phone. “Already?”
“All the way from Atlanta?” Cheyanne remarked. “Huh. Figured it’d take ‘em longer.”
“I’m not even dressed yet, Chey!” Lynn shouted in a panic, tearing off the hat and pacing around the floor helplessly. “I didn’t think they’d get here for another half an hour! I don’t even have time to-”
“Lynn! Darlin’!” Cheyanne grimaced and moved her heavily pregnant body to the other end of the couch, pushing the trashbag out of her way and gripping Lynn’s hand. “It’s okay! You look fine, I promise.” She couldn’t help but chuckle while squeezing her panicking wife’s hand.
“He hasn’t seen me in years! I don’t want him to see me covered in dirt and dust and-”
“Lynn, think about it,” Cheyanne said as she pushed herself off the couch, her nearly circular belly protruding from her middle. She drummed her fingers on top of it and said, “I don’t think you’re the one they’re gonna be lookin’ at.”

While calmed from her panic, Lynn insisted to sprint to the laundry room and throw on the first set of clothes that looked halfway decent. While she was gone, the rental car approached the house, its lights flashing in through the windows and momentarily blinding Cheyanne’s eyes. They parked in front of the house and turned the lights off, making it too dark to see their guests approaching. Lynn returned, looking surprisingly put-together, just as Cheyanne heard the wood creak on the front porch. Lynn approached the door, her tail wagging so hard it resembled a caramel-colored blur, and pulled it open after a single knock.

“Heeeeyy biiiiitch!” shouted a nasally male voice as a skinny dachshund, just a foot or so taller than Lynn, hopped through the doorway and wrapped her in a hug that lifted her a few feet off the ground.
“Forreeeeeeest!” Lynn squealed, kicking her legs in the air behind her as the two twirled in place and screamed incoherently in elation. Cheyanne stood back next to the couch, not sure what to expect from Lynn’s college friend and even less sure how to introduce herself with an eight-month pregnant belly. She simply stood back and kept quiet until addressed, like she usually did.
As Forrest let go of Lynn, a hulking, wide-shouldered figure stepped through the doorway, ducking his head slightly even as his ears brushed the top of the frame. The great dane was well over six feet tall, with Lynn barely standing above his waist-height. However, despite his intimidating appearance, he grinned quietly down at Lynn with friendly eyes, wagging his tail as he stooped down to wrap her in a hug.

“Oh my gooood…I missed you so much, Cameron,” Lynn said, wrapping her arms around as much of Cameron as she could reach and wagging her own tail.
“I missed you too, Lynn,” he said, his voice soft and his wide hands surprisingly gentle. He stood and glanced across the room to Cheyanne, nodding her direction as his eyes drifted inevitably down to her belly.
“Hi Cheyanne…Uh…w-wow.” His eyes widened at the sight of her pregnant middle, making her chuckle.
“Evenin’, big fella,” Cheyanne said resting a hand on her belly.
“Holy shit,” said Forrest, following Cameron’s gaze to Cheyanne’s middle. “Damn girl, what are you feeding that thing?”

“Chey, this is Forrest,” Lynn interrupted, standing between them gesturing to one another. “Cameron’s boyfriend.”
“Fiance,” Forrest corrected as he reached over and took Cameron’s huge hand in his, a metal band on his finger.
“Oh, right!” Lynn said, slapping her forehead. “You’ve been engaged for like three years, though.”
“So?” Forrest shrugged, clicking his tongue. He let go of Cameron’s hand and crossed the room, extending his hand to Cheyanne. “Hi! Like she said, I’m Forrest.”
“Nice to meet ya,” Cheyanne nodded, smiling politely. His accent was sharp and fast, obviously a Chicago native, and sounded similar to Lynn’s when they’d first met. “Damn shame we hadn’t met before.”
“I know! Lynn is my girl, so I couldn’t stand not meeting her wife,” Forrest said, his voice rising. Lynn had warned Cheyanne that Forrest came on strong and took getting used to. “God, Cheyanne, can I say that I just love your accent?”
“Oh, well uhh…” Cheyanne paused, cocking her head to the side, then said, “Well uh…thank you, I s’pose.”
“I mean it!” Forrest said emphatically. “Some people sound so slow and-”

“Forrest,” Cameron warned from behind, folding his arms. “You’re almost going to put a paw in your mouth.”
“Oh! Right right right right!” Forrest closed his eyes and flipped his hair back, as if re-composing himself, then said, “I love your accent, girl.”
“Nice of you to say,” Cheyanne nodded. “Just how I grew up talkin’, I s’pose.”
“You’ve got one too!” Lynn chirped as she and Cameron stepped farther inside and shut the door behind them. “It seems really strong now that I’ve been living down here.”
“It does?” Forrest gasped. “I didn’t even know I had an accent!”
“It’s really noticeable,” Lynn said. “I can’t believe I never thought about it before now.”
“Well you sound a little different, too,” Forrest said, pointing at Lynn. “You aren’t going native, are you?”
While Forrest and Lynn chatted excitedly back and forth, Cameron crossed to Cheyanne and smiled down at her, the height difference between them not quite as extreme.

“Good to see ya, Cameron,” Chey beamed, massaging her hands against her back. The great dane couldn’t help but glance down at Cheyanne’s impressive belly as it bumped into his stomach (which Chey hadn’t done on purpose, as she was frequently misjudging her size). His eyes widened and he chuckled at her anxiously.
“You too,” Cameron said. Cheyanne had only met him a few times, but took a quick liking to him. Despite his imposing size, he was quiet and thoughtful and polite almost to a fault, with a soft-spoken voice and large, friendly eyes. “You’re looking…” He paused, trying to think of the best word to describe it.
“Bloated?” Chey finished, patting her belly. “’Cause that’s the truth.”
“No no, you look good,” Cameron shook his head. “Just…um…” He swallowed and tucked his tail between his legs before saying quietly, “…big.”

Cheyanne laughed and slid her hand beneath her belly.
“Well, you ain’t lyin’,” Chey said. “But I think you mighta had a thing or two to do with that.”
“Uh…Sorry.”
“What?” Cheyanne raised an eyebrow. “What you got to be sorry about? It’s cause of you we get to have a baby in the first place. Who gives a damn if he’s on the big side?” She shrugged and hefted her stomach with both arms. “It ain’t comfortable, but I’d rather the little fella be too big than too small.”
“Chey, you look fucking adorable,” Forrest called across the living room. “I swear to God, you work that baby bump like a champ.”
“So um…would it be a problem if…” Cameron wrung his hands together before holding out a palm above her stomach.
“You wanna feel?” Cheyanne nodded and leaned back slightly. “Go to town. It’s your kid in there, after all.”
Cameron’s hand was triple the size of Lynn’s and felt heavier, but his touch was gentle and careful. Cheyanne smirked at his wide-eyed expression as he explored the rounded swell of her pregnant middle. He jumped as the pup squirmed beneath his palm, then smiled nervously and began wagging his tail.

“…Wow…” Cameron breathed. “Th-That was…that was the baby?”
“Yep,” Cheyanne nodded. “Little fella likes to get a workout in there.”
“That is so fucking precious,” Forrest remarked as he watched Cameron feel Cheyanne’s belly. He hurried across the room and said, excitedly, “Me next, me next!”
“Might as well start sellin’ tickets,” Cheyanne said, turning to Lynn.
“You knew this was coming,” Lynn smirked. “The pup’s the main attraction after all.”
Once Cameron was finished, Forrest stepped in his place and held both sides of Chey’s middle, then leaned over to press his ear against it.
“It’s kinda weird to think about how that’s my fiance’s baby in there,” Forrest remarked.
“Only technically,” Lynn added. “It was Cameron’s sperm, but he’s still our baby.” She reached out and took Cheyanne’s hand, their wedding bands clinking together.
“Oh duh, totally,” Forrest said. He suddenly gasped and backed away from Cheyanne with his hands in the air. “Ohhhh my God I think I felt it move!” He hopped in place excitedly for a moment, then crouched and listened more closely to her belly.

“It’s not like he’s gonna talk to you, Forrest,” Lynn teased.
“I know that,” Forrest snapped back. “I just want to hear the baby-” He stopped and pressed his head harder against Cheyenne’s stomach. “Was that it? Was that him?”
“I uhh…I hate to disappoint ya,” Chey snickered, “….but I think that was me. We haven’t had any supper yet.”
“You hungry?” Lynn asked her two friends. “Chey was gonna cook dinner tonight.”
“Hope y’all like breakfast food,” Cheyanne said, beaming proudly. “We got plenty.”
“Oh my god that sounds amazing,” Forrest gasped. “We haven’t eaten since the flight out of O’Hare. I’m starving.”
“Sounds good to me,” Cheyanne said. “I’ll cook y’all up some Southern Hospitality…if I can still reach the stove, that is.” She nodded at the three of them, said “S’cuse me,” then shuffled into the kitchen at a slow, pregnant waddle.

Chey took her time cooking the biggest, densest, heaviest spread of late-night breakfast she’d made in years. She was forced to open the window to let out the heat quickly stuffing up the kitchen. The pancakes, waffles, eggs, bacon, grits, hashbrowns, biscuits and ham crowded the kitchen table on serving plates from corner to corner, barely leaving enough room for their plates. The smell was euphoric and made Cheyanne’s pregnancy cravings skyrocket. The sun had set and the sky was dark by the time she was finished, so the four of them (five including the pup in Chey’s womb) were appropriately ravenous as they sat down to eat.
Naturally, it was Cheyanne that cleaned her plate first, inhaling piles of food one after another to keep her and the pup’s appetite’s satisfied. At a close second was, surprisingly, Forrest. The skinny dog must have had an appetite like a jet engine to keep his figure, judging from the amount of pancakes he could put away. The two men, more used to city food, took time to adjust to the farm-raised ingredients Cheyanne cooked with. But by the time the table was nearly empty, their appetites had gotten the better of them.

Chey and Lynn had expected to put away leftovers, but with the help of Cameron and Forrest, they had thoroughly cleaned the table of food and left even the huge Cameron groaning happily. He and Forrest insisted on cleaning the dishes while Cheyanne and Lynn relaxed on the couch in the living room, resting sleepily on the couch while digesting dinner and watching the pup move in Cheyanne’s belly.

“Ooohhhh God…” Forrest moaned as he stumbled into the living room with Cameron following behind. “I don’t think I’ll need to eat anything else this week.”
“Did you like it?” Lynn asked eagerly as Forrest dropped into a chair to the left of the couch.
“Uhhhh, yes? Like…of course?” Forrest blinked at Lynn like she was crazy. “I’ve literally never had breakfast like that before in my life and I don’t think I could ever go back.”
“Chey’s good at that,” Lynn smiled, shuffling closer to her wife. Cheyanne scratched the back of her head and nodded to Forrest, smiling bashfully.
“Glad y’all enjoyed it,” she said.

“Chey, listen to me,” Forrest said, leaning over the chair and pointing a finger at her. “You. Just. Blew my fucking mind, okay? I literally did not know food could taste that fucking good, okay? You’re a fucking star and I hope that Cameron’s baby in your tummy knows how good he’s gonna have it.”
“It’s their baby, Forrest,” Cameron said as he pulled a chair closer to the couch and sat down carefully, as if he was aware of his size. The wood creaked and groaned under his weight, but held his weight solidly.
“Right right right,” Forrest said, waving his hand dismissively. “You know what I mean.”
“It’s alright,” Lynn smiled, gently stroking Cheyanne’s belly. “Cameron…this is the best thing anyone has ever done for us. It’s because of you we’re able to have a real family and…” Lynn paused, swallowing and pulling back sentimental tears. “Thank you. From the bottom of my heart.”

“Same here,” Cheyanne nodded, smiling as she patted her stomach. “We couldn’t have done it without you, big fella.”
Cameron wrung his hands in his lap and folded his ears back, laughing bashfully as he glanced away. His tail, sticking through the back of the chair, was wagging happily.
“It wasn’t such a big deal,” he said, shrugging. “Not like I was doing much with the sperm anyway…”
“Well, it was a big deal to us,” Lynn said. “Even if it wasn’t me that got to carry the little sweetie.” She giggled and pressed her nose to Chey’s tummy.
“Oh my god, I couldn’t even imagine,” Forrest said, throwing his hands up. “One of Cameron’s puppies inside itty-bitty Lynn?”
Cheyanne was about to interrupt the sensitive subject, but Lynn giggled happily and spoke first.
“Chey would probably have to carry me around in the wheelbarrow,” she joked, patting her wife’s baby belly. “I think he’s better suited in Chey’s tummy than mine.”

“Have you thought of a name yet?” Cameron asked.
“Can we guess it?” Forrest added.
“There’s thousands of names they could have picked,” Cameron said, raising his eyebrow.
“Yeah but…” Forrest sighed, then clicked his tongue impatiently and rolled his eyes. “Fine fine. What’s his name?”
“David,” Cheyanne said, looking down thoughtfully at the round belly in her lap. Ever since she and Lynn had decided on a name, her pregnancy had taken on a new feeling in her mind. She wasn’t just carrying a pup or an abstract baby inside her. It was David that was kicking in her belly. It was David who was hungry when she was. It was David who was having hiccups that Cheyanne could feel. With just a name, the pup had finally become a real person, ready to meet the world. Their son David.
“…Huh,” Forrest said, flatly. He was obviously unimpressed, but didn’t say so.

“It’s because David was a shepherd in the Bible,” Lynn explained. She shrugged and watched a paw push out from Chey’s womb. “He doesn’t have to be a shepherd if he doesn’t want to, but it just…we liked it. It felt right.” She glanced up at Cheyanne, who nodded in return and held Lynn’s hand in hers atop the hill of her belly.
“I like it,” Cameron said, smiling. “It’s a good name. David.” He paused, staring down at Cheyanne’s belly in disbelief. “I really…I just can’t believe that there’s going to be…like…a new person soon that I helped make.”
“How d’ya think we feel?” Cheyanne joked, patting her stomach. “I’m the one that’s gotta squeeze the little guy out and I still can’t hardly believe it.”
“Little TMI right now, Chey,” Forrest said holding out his hand.

The four of them continued to laugh and talk late into the night, catching up on the years they’d been apart and making excited predictions for David’s life after he was born. But eventually, as the sky outside darkened, more and more yawns began to interrupt the flow of conversation. It was amazing the four of them had stayed up as long as they had, considering the sleepy looks in their eyes after the huge meal.
Forrest, after a while, stood up and stretched his arms high above his head, his trim stomach visible beneath his shirt, and yawned wide enough to flash his sharp teeth.
“I think this is it for me,” he sighed beneath his breath. “That plane ride already took too much out of me.”
“Better get up on to bed, then,” Cheyanne said with a smirk. “Y’all gonna need all the rest you can get b’fore helpin’ us with chores tomorrow morning.”
“Chores?” Forrest asked, hesitantly.
“Y’all didn’t think you were stayin’ here for free, did ya?”
“Set your alarms for somewhere around four in the morning,” Lynn said, leaning over the back of the couch and wagging her tail. “The cows need to get milked pretty early.”
Forrest’s expression fell into something resembling fear as his eyes darted over to Cameron in alarm. Cheyanne and Lynn glanced at one another, giggling.
“Go on and get some sleep,” Cheyanne said, waving her hand. “We’ll show y’all around tomorrow.”
“Okay!” Forrest said while breathing a sigh of relief.

As Lynn got up and showed the two of them the guest bedroom, Cheyanne pulled her heavy body off the couch and finished cleaning up the kitchen. A few minutes into it, she stopped and grimaced in discomfort as David began kicking and turning inside her, the pup evidently wide awake. Chey drummed her fingers against her belly, sighing as she tried to think of a way to get her unborn baby to go to sleep. She decided on giving herself a moment to relax, as well. The activity that day had worn her out, so Cheyanne poured herself a glass of sweet tea and hobbled out onto the porch, massaging her sore back.
She sat in the island of light on a rocking chair, sipping her drink slowly. One paw was propped up on the railing, rocking her slowly back and forth, while her free hand idly stroked her gravid middle. David wiggled as much as he had room to do, but after a while of quiet and peace, began to relax and stop kicking Cheyanne from the inside so hard. Her ears twitched as she heard heavy footsteps approaching from inside, shortly before the screen door opened with a loud creak of the spring.

“It’s so quiet out here…” Cameron said as he stood on the porch. “And so…dark.”
“That’s how it is out here in the country,” Cheyanne said, sipping her tea before resting the glass precariously on her stomach.
“It’s…kind of scary,” Cameron admitted, smiling bashfully at Cheyanne.
“Aw, there ain’t nothin’ out there that can hurt ya,” Chey gestured. “Now, we gotta keep an eye on the livestock. They’re the ones that could be in some trouble. Coyotes, mostly.”
“Really?” Cameron asked, his eyebrows raised. “Feral ones? Is that a big problem out here?”
“Mm-hmm,” Cheyanne nodded. “Get at least one of our sheep every couple’a months if we ain’t careful.”
“How do you stop them?” Cameron asked.
Cheyanne paused and looked up at the great date, cocking her head to the side.
“…You ever been this far South before?” she asked.
“I’ve been to Florida.”
“Hmm…” Cheyanne scratched her chin, intrigued by Cameron’s naivety. David kicked near where the glass was resting and nearly toppled it off her belly if she hadn’t caught it at the last second. She smirked up at Cameron and asked, “You wanna do somethin’ fun?”

Meanwhile, upstairs, Forrest was just getting out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his head. He flopped on the guest bed that Lynn was putting sheets on and rolled onto his stomach.
“You guys weren’t serious about chores, were you?” he asked, cautiously.
“We have to do them in the morning,” Lynn said as she fluffed pillows. “You can help if you want to, though. It’s actually pretty fun if you don’t have to do it every day.”
“Getting up that early though…” Forrest made a face in disgust.
“You said you wanted to try knew things though, right?” Lynn responded. “While you were down here?”
“Well sure, but…c’mon Lynn, not tomorrow. Let Cameron and me sleep.” He pouted, folding back his ears and whining. Lynn rolled her eyes and flicked him in the tip of his nose.
“Prima donna,” she teased.

“Damn straight,” Forrest said, tossing his wet hair as he pulled the towel off his head. He paused, then asked, “So…does Cheyanne like me? I can’t really tell.”
“I think so,” Lynn said. “She wouldn’t talk to you if she didn’t.”
“Good…” Forrest said. “She’s hard to read, y’know?”
“She’s just like that,” Lynn explained. “Chey doesn’t always express emotions really well. Comes from her family, I think.”
“Are they shitty?” Forrest asked. Lynn stopped making the bed and flashed him an exasperated expression.
“You have no idea…”

Before she could elaborate, a far-away sound like a firework or a thunderclap echoed from outside, making the two of them jump.
“What was that?” Forrest asked, alarmed.
“Chey, what the hell…” Lynn sighed as she tossed down the pillowcases and marched down the stairs with Forrest close behind.

As they reached the porch, they saw Cheyanne and Cameron standing far out in the middle of the yard, just barely in the halo of light cast by the porch. Chey had her twelve-gauge shotgun leveled at her shoulder and carefully lowered it before showing it to Cameron.
“Now pullin’ the trigger brings the hammer down onto the firin’ pin, which fires the shot. And pumpin’ it,” she gripped the pump and ejected the shell into the grass, “readies the next shell into the chamber and cocks the hammer at the same time. See?”
“Chey!” Lynn called out. “What are you doing?”
“I’m showin’ Cameron how we deal with coyotes!” Chey shouted back, slinging the gun over her shoulder. Lynn paused at the surreal image of the eight-month pregnant Cheyanne with a shotgun slung over her shoulder.
“It’s late! Show him later!”
“I uhh…I kinda wanted to try!” Cameron added. “If that’s okay!”
Lynn paused, then sighed and waved her hand.
“Just shoot one!” she said. Cheyanne grinned, then carefully handed the gun over to Cameron, but didn’t let go of it at first.
“Press it into your arm, right between your collarbone and your shoulder,” Chey explained. “It’s gonna kick like a son of a bitch, so hold it in hard so it doesn’t have room to hit ya.” She let go of the shotgun and pointed out into the dark, toward the forest on the edge of the property. “Aim way out there. It’s gonna feel like the gun’s tryin’ to jump outta your hands, so hold onto it.”

Cheyanne stepped back and folded her ears down against her head. Cameron held the shotgun up to his shoulder, spread his legs apart, and waited for a long time without doing anything. Then, once he finally built up the courage, he squeezed the trigger. With a deafening boom, the gun fired pellets into the woods and kicked into Cameron’s shoulder before jerking straight up. If he hadn’t been gripping it so hard, it might have flipped completely over his shoulder and landed behind him, but Cameron was able to maintain his grip. He lowered the shotgun and glanced back at Cheyanne, wagging his tail and laughing nervously as adrenaline pumped through his veins.

“I think we scared the hell outta David,” Cheyanne laughed, her hands on her belly. “He’s kickin’ up a damn storm in there.”
“Go, Rambo!” Forrest shouted, cheering on Cameron from the porch. Lynn rolled her eyes again as Cheyanne grinned sheepishly at her.
“I think that’s enough excitement for me,” Lynn said, yawning. “C’mon, we’ve only got a few days while you’re here, so let’s make the most of it.”

*****************************************************************************************************

At the end of April, Lynn woke up early to take care of the morning chores, but found that she was alone in the bed. In fact, Lynn’s alarm had apparently been turned off, letting her sleep in until about ten in the morning. She hopped out of bed and hurriedly dressed in a panic, hoping she still had time to take care of the animals before anything happened to them. But as she dressed, she realized that Cheyanne was nowhere to be found. She wasn’t in the bathroom, the kitchen, the porch, or the garage. It wasn’t until Lynn heard the cranking of the lawnmower behind the house did she realize where her very heavily pregnant wife had disappeared to.

Lynn went downstairs and walked into the front lawn just as Chey herself rounded the corner, carrying two full bags of feed on her shoulders and a full-term, slightly overdue pregnant belly around her middle. She set them down at her feet to catch her breath and waved at Lynn, massaging the huge, swollen mass of her stomach.
“Chey, what’s going on?” Lynn asked, still rubbing sleep out of her eyes.
“I wanted to do the chores this mornin’,” Cheyanne shrugged. “That’s all.”
“Chey, c’mon, you can’t do that,” Lynn sighed. “You could go into labor at any time, now.”
“Yeah, I know,” Cheyanne said, rubbing the sides of her bulging stomach. “That’s the point. I figure if sittin’ around all day ain’t gonna get a move on, I might as well try somethin’ else.”
“That’s dangerous though!” Lynn protested.

“Is it?” Cheyanne asked. “Because I am begging for labor at this point, darlin’. I don’t care when or where my water breaks as long as it’s soon.” She sighed in frustration and gazed down at her belly. “David’s gotta get outta there before I lose my damn mind.”
Lynn paused and thought. The main danger of keeping Cheyanne off her feet during the third trimester was to keep from triggering an early labor. But by that point, the labor was anything but early, and they’d done everything they could to try and trigger it, but with no success. Lynn bit her lip and folded her arms before finally nodding.
“Okay,” she shrugged, holding out her arms. “As long as you know what you’re doing, I guess it’s worth a shot.”
“I think so too,” Cheyanne said. She smiled and encircled both arms around her hugely pregnant middle. “If this don’t work, I might as well start doin’ jumping jacks to try and shake the little fella out.” She grinned, then squatted and picked up the two heavy feed bags and continued to carry them down the hill, her walking stance wide-legged and awkward as the enormous pup in her belly took up so much room.

Lynn returned inside, but didn’t want to risk going to sleep in case Cheyanne needed help. She began to brew a cup of coffee and leisurely set out a bowl and spoon for some cereal. She sat at the kitchen table, blinking groggily in the early morning sunlight and chewing her Frosted Flakes one bite at a time. After she finished the bowl and drank the remaining milk, the coffee had finished brewing and she poured herself a cup. Lynn added a few drops of cold milk until the coffee was the color of her own fur, then two spoonfuls of sugar until it became palatable to drink. As she walked back to the kitchen table, she drank two sips and set down the mug just as Cheyanne staggered up the porch steps and through the front door, wincing in pain and clutching her belly.

“I think it’s time,” Chey grimaced, breathing heavily as she massaged her stomach. “Lynn…the pup’s comin’.”

Lynn blinked at her wife, noting that not even ten minutes had passed since they’d last spoken.
“…Are you sure?” Lynn asked.
“I’m…nng…pretty damn sure, darlin’,” Cheyanne grunted in discomfort as she leaned against the couch. “I think carryin’ those bags did the trick.”
Lynn nodded, then quietly picked up her coffee and took another sip. After swallowing, her eyes flew open and a wide, ear-to-ear grin split open her face as her emotions, which had been lagging a few seconds behind, slammed into her like a car crash.
“The baby’s coming!” Lynn squealed, skittering form the kitchen to Cheyanne’s side, clutching her hand and wagging her tail. “Oh my God he’s coming! It’s happening!”
“Sure is,” Chey nodded, taking deep breaths as she held her belly from underneath. “I’m glad you’re excited but I… aaahhh…I kinda need your help, here.”
“Yes! Yeah yeah yeah okay, yeah. Yes.” Lynn tapped her paws on the floor anxiously as she helped Cheyanne sit on the couch. “What do you need? What can I do?”

“Gimme somethin’ to drink, if ya don’t mind,” Chey said, licking her lips. “It’s hot out there…”
Lynn disappeared into the kitchen before returning with a glass of water seconds later. Cheyanne took the glass and drank it empty in one gulp. She wiped her mouth and sighed before handing it back to Lynn. Soon after, she grimaced again and reached out to grip her wife’s hand while she breathed through a contraction.
“What do you need?” Lynn asked again. “What can I do for you?”
“Well…I didn’t plan on givin’ birth on this here couch so…” Cheyanne winced and pushed her heavy body back onto her paws. “We gotta get to the hospital. Go get the overnight back upstairs. I’ll get the truck started.”

Lynn nodded, then sprinted up the stairs to get the hospital bag she’d prepared for when Cheyanne went into labor. Snatching it from beneath the bed, she hurried downstairs just in time to see Cheyanne pulling the truck into the front yard. Lynn stopped on the porch as Cheyanne rolled down the window and honked the horn.
“Lynn! C’mon!” Chey shouted. “I’m not exactly gonna be able to hold him in!”
“I know. But…” Lynn swallowed, aware of the argument that was about to come, then said, “Chey, I think I should drive the truck.”
“…What?” Cheyanne blinked, as if she’d heard a combinations of words she couldn’t fully comprehend. “…No, I’m fine. I’ll drive, just get on in.”
“Chey, if you’re in labor, you shouldn’t be driving,” Lynn said. “It’s dangerous. I mean it.”
“But…I mean…I can do it! I’m…” Cheyanne paused and stared down at her belly, which was big enough that she needed to pull the seat all the way back just to keep her stomach from rubbing against the steering wheel.

Cheyanne sighed and shifted the truck into park, then got out and waddled to the passenger side door. Lynn sighed and smiled before she hopped down from the porch and hurried to the driver’s side door. As she got in and adjusted the seat, Cheyanne gingerly pulled herself into the passenger seat and leaned far back while stroking her belly soothingly.
“Don’t hit the breaks too hard now,” Chey said. “The pads need to be replaced soon. And the front tires ain’t as full as the back ones, so slow down if you’re gonna hit any bumps. Oh, and push down the break real hard when you need to shift gears since it’s used to my legs instead of yours. Also, don’t forget-”

“Chey, I know how to drive,” Lynn said as she shifted gears and put on her seatbelt. Cheyanne blinked, then nodded and kept her mouth shut. After a moment, the pregnant shepherd groaned through another contraction, clutching her stomach with both hands, then making a sudden gasp before sitting up to look between her legs. A dark, wet patch began seeping through her pants and onto the seat.
“Ten. Acres.” Cheyanne groaned. “Ten acres of farmland my water could’a broken on and it had to wait until I was in. My. Truck?” She squirmed in her seat and grumbled. “Let’s get a move on. If I give birth in here, I won’t ever be able to scrub that outta the seats.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Lynn said, trying not to show the smile on her face.

She shifted the truck into drive and pulled out onto the driveway. As they turned onto the highway, Cheyanne silently took her hand off her belly and held Lynn’s free hand. She glanced back at the window at her farm, the home she and Lynn had built together, and smiled to herself at the idea that the next time she was there, they’d be a family of three instead of just two.
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