by Leslie North
She just hoped her red puffy eyes and blotchy face weren’t as noticeable as she feared. At least she managed to put on clothes that matched today, unlike yesterday’s disaster. She had the husband of the couple she was checking in at the time to thank for pointing out her “imaginative and daring sense of style.”
Lorraine stopped beside the end of the table and pointed. “What do you think?”
Rachel eyed the bright, happy colors. The different-colored squares all had some kind of flower pattern or picture, and the ladies had sewn the squares together to form the top of a large quilt. The unfinished edges rippled, and a three-inch wide border in leaf green lay next to it as if waiting to be attached. She had no clue how quilting worked and wasn’t sure what her answer should be.
“Um,” Rachel replied, “It’s pretty.”
Lorraine put an arm around Rachel’s shoulders. “How are you feeling? The nausea getting better?”
“Oh, man,” Patsy interjected. “I remember those days. I couldn’t lift my head out of the bowl.”
“And swollen ankles?” Marge chimed in. “Don’t get me started on those.” Her cloudy brown eyes behind thick glasses landed on Rachel. “I think you look fabulous, dear.”
Rachel covered her snort by coughing. She looked like a train wreck had collided with a box of crayons.
“Yes.” Lorraine nodded. “You’re going to be a radiant mother.”
“And a strong one too,” Patsy announced.
“Damn straight.” Marge slapped the table. “It’s not my place to know what happened with that yummy marine who’s the father, but you’re going to be just fine. Your business is solid, and you’ve built a beautiful home for your baby girl.”
Tears pricked Rachel’s eyes. Damn town gossip had supplied these ladies with too much information, but for the first time in her life, it felt wonderful. They weren’t pointing fingers or degrading her, they were trying to bolster her up.
“If you need help.” Lorraine squeezed. “You call us.”
“Think of us as surrogate grandmothers.” Marge nodded.
Patsy chuckled. “Lord knows, we’ve had a lot of practice.”
Rachel wiped a tear and laughed wetly. Between the three ladies, they had eighteen children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren total.
“This is going to go nicely in that other room.” Patsy motioned toward the entertainment room.
“Ohhh,” Rachel drew out, the tears pouring. She had suspected the quilt was for her, but to hear it just warmed her heart. She was so used to condemnation, to being labeled as “trash,” or being ignored, that the genuine acceptance from these three matriarchs who ruled the town just floored her. She thought for sure that once news leaked of her pregnancy, she’d receive ridicule for being a pink-haired, tattooed, single mother, but she had judged everyone based on her own insecurities before she really gave them a chance. And, yet, as good as the ladies’ acceptance made her heart feel, it didn’t fill the space Harris had left.
“Thank you.” She yanked another tissue out of her cargo capri’s pocket and cleared her nose. “It’s beautiful. I’m going to leave you all to it.” She had to get out of there before she lost it completely.
Pivoting, she jogged up the steps and found her feet carrying her into the nursery. It hurt so much being in this room. Fingering the tulip bud topping a post on the crib, she couldn’t stop wondering why Harris had bought it for her. She had secretly eyed it on the website, but it had been too expensive. How had he known that she wanted it? And if she ruined his life, why had he cared?
The gorgeous pink walls seemed to say something, but she no longer understood the message. This space haunted her. It radiated all the hope she’d had in shades of pink, but this crib…a lump got stuck in her throat. This crib rang of love.
If only he had felt that emotion instead of thinking he was trapped. She had fallen for him so easily, why couldn’t he have trusted her when she told him in the beginning she wasn’t out to tie him down?
Fingering the holder that waited for a mobile to hang over the mattress, she could almost hear the music.
Wait. Her muscles froze. She wasn’t imagining that melody.
Slowly turning, she found Harris standing in the doorway, holding a spinning mobile. The colorful butterflies hanging beneath shook, and it took her a second to realize it was due to him and not the mobile’s momentum.
Her heart slammed into her rib cage and her traitorous eyes gobbled him up. He had shaved his hair back to military standards and wore full fatigues and combat boots as if he had just come from the base.
“Rachel,” he said, his voice low and strained. “Please, hear me out.”
Clenching her fingers together to keep from running to him, she stated, “You’ve already said plenty. You’re free of me, so—”
“I don’t want to be free of you.” He inched into the room, the mobile still chiming its happy tune.
“That’s not what I heard.” She lifted her chin, her heart breaking at having to see his beautiful face again. “Please, Harris. I don’t want to be the bad guy and ask you to leave again.”
“I was talking out of my ass to Darryl,” he pleaded, still inching closer. “I was saying anything I could to distract him so I could go for my gun and get him to let you go.”
“No one can act that convincingly.”
“And no one can be this blind unless she wants to be,” he retorted, another step closer. “Look at this room. What do you see?”
She couldn’t. It hurt way too much. “Lies.”
“The hell you do.” He closed the distance. “I see love.” His forefinger rested against her chin and forced her to look up at him. “Would a man who honestly believes his life is ruined do this?” The mobile bounced as he attempted to motion to the painted walls. “No man would go to these lengths to create a surprise for a woman he feels got pregnant on purpose to trap him in marriage.”
Oh God. He was right. What had she done?
Harris stroked a thumb lightly over her cheek. “I did all of this for you. To make you happy. To show you how much you mean to me.” His sienna brown eyes darkened with so much emotion. “In case you’re still not getting it, I’m in love with you, Rachel.”
A jolt ripped through her and she blinked. Disbelief and hope and pain warred for dominance.
“You heard right,” he stated gently. “I need you to know how I really feel. How I’ve been feeling for weeks. I love you. So much it’s killing me to be away from you. I also love that we made a daughter together.” He attached the mobile on the designated hanger. “And I love the home you’ve made in this house. It’s the haven I didn’t even know I was looking for, but know that I was lucky as hell to find.”
The tears streaming down her face blurred his image, but she still couldn’t allow herself to fall into his arms as much as she wanted to. “But,” she garbled and cleared her throat, “I don’t know if I’m strong enough to watch you leave for missions. Or wait for months without knowing if you’re coming back.”
“You won’t have to.”
“What?” He wasn’t saying what she thought he was, was he?
“I retired earlier today.”
She swayed and he pulled her against him. “You did?” Her arms were trapped between them like a barrier. “But why?”
“You’re my home and my family.” He tucked a strand of pink hair behind her ear. “You’re what I need. Working by your side is what I want for my future. The military taught me a lot and gave me a purpose for a while, but I have new priorities, and you and our baby are the center of them. Can you live with that?”
“Hell, yes.” She tore her arms free and threw them around him. “I love you so much, Harris McCallister.”
He wrenched back and searched her face. “Say that again. I want to see those words cross your beautiful lips.”
She laughed. Her face was wet and her nose was running, but she’d never felt better. “I love you, Harris McCallister.”
“Not a chance!”
He silenced her with a kiss. Tilting her head, she deepened the connection and prayed the ladies downstairs wouldn’t mind some erotic noises. She planned to do very wicked things to her retired marine.
Epilogue
Evening, the same day
Balancing on the ladder, Harris carefully matched the purple laughing fairy on the left wallpaper border to the rest of the same fairy on the new piece he was about to apply. Sunlight would have made this easier, but Rachel had been so excited to put up the border and decorate with the other matching items, he couldn’t say no.
Using the ceiling fan light, he eyed the patterns. Once he was satisfied he had the two pieces lined up perfectly, he pressed the next section of border against the wall and used a plastic tool to smooth the air bubbles out. He had to admit the border circumnavigating the nursery next to the ceiling looked awesome. The colors of the wildflowers, the vivid green stems, and different shades of fairies really added a new layer of happiness to the space.
Rachel snapped a piece of material in the air, then smoothed it over the ironing board she had set up near the closet. Steam puffed the second the hot plate touched the curtain and curled through her beautiful hair.
He had never felt so at home and right where he should be as he did in this moment.
After a glorious afternoon spent thoroughly debauching her, he’d unabashedly grinned at the three ladies who kept eyeing him with devilish twinkles in their eyes all through dinner.
The grilling they gave him would make an interrogator proud. By the end, he joked that he needed a beer or something stronger, but the way Rachel kept giggling, it was worth it. And her joy eased his nerves over the request he’d made to his CO earlier to continue seeing First Lieutenant Greg Martinez, Ph.D. for therapy. He needed to be one-hundred percent for Rachel and his daughter, and the therapist was the best person to help him truly come to terms with Shawn’s death.
“Did you find the letters?” Harris asked, climbing down the ladder to re-situate it for the next section.
“I did!” Rachel exclaimed. She inserted a curtain rod through the top of the delicate, white material that had little white flowers embroidered on it, then added the second panel. “They’re amazing.”
He hauled the next section up and planted his feet for balance. “You read them already?’
“Sure did.” She moved the two-step ladder to the front window and attached the rod to the hooks he had already mounted.
“All of them?” He blinked, peering over his shoulder. “That stack had to be two inches thick.”
She futzed with the material, swishing it this way and that until she was satisfied. He had already hung thick shades so that they could fully block the sun when needed, but the curtains were a pretty accent.
“Four days of hell, Harris,” she retorted blandly.
Chagrin and frustration shot through him. They had both suffered needlessly. She shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions, but he should have pushed to be heard. They both let their pride and preconceived insecurities make them miserable.
“Understood.” He painstakingly aligned the next section of border to seamlessly match the previous, then smoothed it out. “So, what did they say? Were they from the pirate? Did he ever return? Were they tragic?”
Rachel’s laugh bounced in the room and wrapped around his soul. “Looks like I’m not the only one who’s a romantic when it comes to the pirate and his widow.”
“Guess what?” Harris twisted. “I’m also a romantic when it comes to a fierce fairy and a retired marine.”
“Ooooooo,” she drew out, her eyes beaming. “Smooth, McCallister.” She shot him with a finger gun.
“That’s just sad.” He shook his head theatrically. “You think your little peashooter is any match for my—”
“Hammer? Drill?” Rachel filled in with a raunchy cackle. “Isn’t that what the bachelorette party called your dick? Which, by the way, almost had me vaulting the furniture to attack them in jealousy.”
“Realllly?” Harris sauntered down the aluminum rungs, his chest puffing out. “I wish I had known that.”
“Don’t be getting any ideas,” Rachel snapped with no heat, pointing at him. “Me in a jealous fit is not a pretty sight.”
His hands shot up. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Too late, he already had a mental image.
She snorted, knowing he was lying. “Anyway,” she pointedly said, “the letters are really heartfelt and almost too personal to read.” She ironed the other set of curtains. “The pirate and the widow did eventually marry and had two children.”
“Oh, wow.” Harris picked up the last section of the border and situated the ladder.
“Yeah, but she also had two miscarriages while he was at sea.”
The blood drained from his head and he clapped his hands to the wall to keep his balance and not fall off. “Never mention that word again. I can’t even imagine losing a baby.”
She hugged her stomach, slightly green, and nodded. “Agreed. The word is banned from this household.” She fed the rod through the other set of curtains. “Moving on. I talked to a history professor at the college, and he said they’re quite valuable.”
Harris whipped his head down. “So, I was right. In essence, they were the treasure.”
“Yup.” Rachel attached the rod to the side window’s mounts. “I thought I was going to have to get physical with the guy to make him give them back. He really wanted to study them for historical value.”
“Maybe we should let him.” Harris swiped the plastic tool over the border and smoothed out the bubbles.
“I want them appraised before I do anything,” Rachel answered. “And as much as it rankles me to say this, I don’t own them outright. My mother co-inherited the property, and I don’t feel right making a decision without her.”
“Have you told her about them?” His boots clomped on the hardwood floor he planned on refinishing thanks to Darryl ruining the living room. If he was going to refresh one room, he might as well do the whole apartment. He definitely had the time, seeing as he was unemployed unless he counted trading handyman repairs for sex…hmmm…that would make him a gigolo. Niiiccce.
“I haven’t talked to my mom since she showed up the other day.” Rachel met him in the middle, then turned in a slow circle. “It looks amazing. I love it.”
“I do too.” He intertwined his hand with hers. “Just like I love you.”
“I love you too.” Her expression softened. “I also think you should be involved with the decision about what to do with them.”
Satisfaction unfurled in his chest. She had heard him and already showing she’d meet him halfway. “Thank you.”
“I’m pretty sure those letters would fetch a high price at auction.”
He pulled her against him. “I’m hearing college fund secured. What about you?”
Rachel chuckled, then raised on her toes and murmured in his ear, “I’m hearing our bed calling.”
Ten hours later
A cellphone incessantly ringing pulled Harris out of a deep sleep. He and Rachel had had a fantastic sexual marathon, followed by helping Rachel spend quality time with the toilet bowl. Sleep had been slow to come…popping one eye open, he groaned. He’d only managed to get three hours.
Snatching his phone off the nightstand, he pressed the answer button. “Hello?” Damn, his voice sounded rough.
“Harris,” Lee barked, tension radiating through the connection. “I’m sorry to be calling so early, but I need you.”
“Lee?” Harris sat up, instantly awake. He spied the number on the phone as he swung his legs over the bed. “What’s wrong? Whose number is this?”
“Harris?” Rachel asked groggily, propping on one elbow. “Is everything okay?”
“It’s Lee,” Harris answered beside the bed. “I’ll ta
ke it in the living room. Go back to sleep.”
“Ah, fuck,” Lee snarled. “I shouldn’t have called you.” A horn blared in the background. “I got your voicemail, by the way. Congratulations on having a daughter. I’d give you shit about her dating boys who only want one thing, but I don’t have much battery left.”
Harris closed the bedroom door. “Hell, yeah, you should call me,” he snapped, ignoring the dating jab. “Always. No matter what. Now spill. What do you need?”
Figuring he wouldn’t be going back to sleep, he turned the TV on and the screen flared to life with a news station. He muted it, then flicked on the coffeemaker he’d set up in the corner of the living room.
Silence pulsed for another second, then Lee answered his questions. “My cellphone was smashed in a botched HALO, so I’m using a brand-new burner that I haven’t had a second to charge.”
What the actual fuck? A botched High Altitude, Low Opening meant something had gone wrong while jumping with a parachute from a plane. Why the hell had Lee been jumping from a plane—and what had gone wrong?
“I don’t have time to get into it,” Lee continued, “but I need you and Chance to help me rescue the woman I’ve promised to keep safe. I’ve thwarted multiple kidnap attempts, but they sabotaged our plane, forcing me to jump with Viktoria—”
“Jesus,” Harris barked, his eyes flying to the TV. “A story about a plane crash is on the national news.” He silently read the bar running across the bottom of the screen. “In Pennsylvania. That was you?”
“Yeah. We all survived, but I got knocked out on the way to the ground. They took her,” Lee growled. “I shouldn’t ask with everything you have going on, but I need you to help me get Viktoria back.”
“Like I’d ever say no,” Harris answered, already making mental a list of what had to happen next. The McCallister brothers always had each other’s backs.
They hashed out a place to meet and Harris promised to call back with the timing after he’d booked his flight.