Colton's Covert Baby

by Lara Lacombe

  His team had been on patrol—standard stuff, nothing unusual. But when they’d stopped for a break, they’d been joined by a scrawny yellow puppy with big black eyes and an inquisitive personality.

  “Hey there, buddy,” he’d said as the dog nosed his leg. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Probably searching for food,” one of his teammates said. “Look at how skinny he is.”

  “Poor guy,” said another.

  Taking pity on the friendly puppy, the men had dug through their pockets and come up with offerings of beef jerky and a peanut butter granola bar. Max wasn’t sure if it was safe for dogs to eat peanut butter, but the stray scarfed it down before he could finish asking the question.

  Max had offered him some water, and after his snack, the dog curled up at his feet and fell asleep with a contented sigh.

  “He’s really sweet,” Max remarked.

  “Yeah,” his buddy Joseph said. “But don’t go getting any ideas. You know you can’t bring him back to base.”

  Max nodded in acknowledgment. The team rose to get back to it, and Max felt a pang in his heart as he looked at the sleeping dog. He was in for a rough life. Just like everybody else in this desert. He knew he couldn’t save everyone, but there was something especially frustrating about the fact that he couldn’t help a dog who had such simple needs compared with his human neighbors.

  “Shake it off, Hollick,” Brad, the team leader, said. “You can’t fit a dog in your duffel anyway.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Max replied, turning his thoughts to the mission at hand.

  But damned if he didn’t look behind him an hour later to find the dog trotting after them, tail wagging despite the desert heat.

  “Your friend is back,” Joseph observed. They were headed to base now, having wrapped up their patrol for the day.

  “Looks like,” Max concurred. He tried to quash the spurt of excitement bubbling up in his chest. Even though the puppy had followed the team, there was no home for him on the base.

  The group stopped again for a short break, giving the dog time to catch up. “Somebody’s got a crush on you, Max,” Joseph teased.

  “Ha ha,” Max said. He wandered a few feet away, searching for a modicum of privacy so he could relieve his bladder. But as he stepped off the path, the dog barked. He turned around to find the animal staring intently at him, as if he was trying to tell him something.

  “Stay there,” he told the dog. “I’ll be right back.”

  He turned around only to hear another bark, but he ignored this one. He took two steps when Joseph let out a surprised yelp. A blast of yellow zoomed past him, and Max suddenly found himself faced with a snarling bundle of yellow fur and bones.

  “Easy, boy,” he said, taking a step back. What was going on with this dog? One minute, he was friendly and sweet and the next he was acting possessed. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that he was going to have to stay in the desert...

  Brad and Joseph and some of the other men came up behind him. The puppy increased his snarling, punctuating it with loud barks for added effect.

  “What’s the deal?” Brad asked. “Do we need to put him down?”

  Max watched the dog carefully. If someone took a step forward, he became more aggressive, going so far as to lunge forward with a snap. But when the men took a step back, he relaxed.

  He heard the creak of a strap as someone shifted their rifle. “No,” he said, holding up his hand. “I think he’s trying to tell us something.”

  Max glanced at the ground behind the dog. It was strewn with rocks and a few pieces of fabric and paper, faded from their time spent baking in the sun. Nothing looked unusual or out of place.

  Except...there was one pile of rocks that looked a little too neat. Max pulled out his binoculars and trained them on the spot. As he focused on the ground, his blood ran cold.

  There was definitely something under those rocks. He couldn’t make out all the details, but he did see the curve of a wire protruding from the pile.

  “There’s an IED out there,” he reported grimly, lowering the binoculars.

  “Where?” Brad’s voice was intense, urgent. A frisson of energy crackled through the rest of the men. They began to study the ground with new interest, searching for additional threats.

  Max pointed out the device to the men. “I’ll be damned,” Brad muttered. “Let’s call it in.”

  They were still a few miles away from base, but this was a popular trail used for foot patrols. The area was routinely swept for explosives. Either this one had been missed, or it was a recent plant.

  The radio dispatcher called up the explosive ordnance team, which sent out a group right away.

  “Back on the trail,” Brad ordered. “No one goes off, not even to take a piss.”

  The men retreated to the relative safety of the marked path. As they moved away, the puppy visibly relaxed. Once everyone was on the trail again, he morphed back into the friendly animal they had encountered before—tail up, tongue lolling out, a big doggy smile on his face.

  He walked over to Max and licked his hand, then sat in the dirt and stared up at him with his head cocked to the side. Max knew dogs couldn’t talk, but he swore the pup was giving him an “Are we cool?” look.

  “Oh, yeah.” Max knelt in the dirt next to the dog, pulling him close for a hug. “You saved our lives.” He tried to ignore the way his stomach twisted as his body caught up to the realization that he’d narrowly missed being blown to bits.

  The rest of the team wandered over as they waited for the ordnance guys. Everyone had a pat and a kind word for the animal. Even Brad softened toward the dog.

  “Looks like we have a new member of the team,” he remarked.

  “Really?” Max couldn’t keep the hope out of his voice. There was no way he was going to leave this dog in the desert now, but if the rest of his team was on board, it would be a lot easier to sneak him on base and take care of him.

  Brad knelt to pat the dog. He slid a glance at Max, then returned his eyes to the dog. “Sometimes it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission,” he said, appearing to talk to no one at all.

  Max turned his head so the other man wouldn’t see his smile. “Understood, sir,” he said.

  And that was that. The team had helped him bring the dog on base, christening him Furbert. It wasn’t Max’s first choice for a name, but one of the guys on the team said it was an old French term having to do with armor. “He protected us,” his friend had said. “We have to give him his due.”

  From that point on, Furbert became the unofficial mascot of the team. The other people on base turned a blind eye to the sight of the dog loping next to Max, and for his part, he made sure Furbert was cared for and well-fed. He even convinced one of the doctors on base to examine his friend to make sure he was healthy. After a few doses of deworming medication, Furbert began to put on weight until he no longer resembled a skeleton with fur, but rather a happy, spoiled young dog.

  Max would have loved Furbert regardless, but it was his actions one afternoon that sealed his place in the hearts of everyone on base.

  Medevac arrived with a chopper full of injured men. The medical team began working on them right away. About an hour later, the rest of the patrol staggered into base. By this time, a small crowd had developed outside the field hospital as people milled about waiting for news. Max was there, along with his fellow operatives. Furbert sat at his feet, as usual.

  A few men pushed through the crowd to the front, intent on going inside. A third man trailed after them, catching them before they could enter the hospital. “Stay here,” he said. His insignia showed him to be the officer in charge of the unit. “I’ll go check for an update.”

  The two men stopped, though it was clear they didn’t like it. They were kitted out for patrol, their faces grimy with sweat and dust. Bo
th of them sported dull red patches on their knees.

  Blood, Max thought grimly. It was the telltale stain of someone who had knelt by an injured colleague in a desperate battle to help them.

  The officer went inside, leaving the two men oblivious to the crowd surrounding them. Max could tell by the looks on their faces they were focused on their friends inside the hospital, silently bargaining with the universe for the survival of their injured comrades.

  After several minutes of silence, the officer returned. One look at his face, and everyone knew.

  “Baker?” one of the men choked out.

  The officer nodded. “And Jeffries.”

  One man sank to the ground while the other stood frozen in place, unwilling or unable to believe the bad news.

  The officer began to comfort his men. Max and the rest of the crowd stirred, knowing it was time to leave. This was a private moment, one that didn’t warrant public scrutiny.

  He motioned for Furbert to follow, but the dog refused to budge. “Come on, boy,” he said sternly. “Let’s go.”

  To his horror, the dog walked over to the grieving soldiers. He nudged the man who was on his knees, as if to say, “I’m here.”

  Max took a step forward with the intent of retrieving the animal. But the soldier didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he appeared to welcome the dog’s presence. Without saying a word, he opened his arms and embraced Furbert, dropping his head against the young dog’s side.

  For his part, Furbert was content to sit still and let the soldier’s tears soak into his fur. Max watched the pair of them from several feet away, marveling at the way the dog’s mere presence brought obvious comfort to a man who was having one of the worst days of his life. This is it, he realized with dawning wonder. This is what I can do.

  He was going to retire after this tour and devote his time to pairing dogs with veterans. If anyone could use comfort, it was the men and women who had seen the horrors of war. And there was nothing like the nonjudgmental presence of a dog to make it seem like things were going to be okay.

  It was perfect. And best of all, Beth would be glad to have him home again.

  It had taken months and a virtual forest’s worth of paperwork. But Furbert had eventually made it back to the States. Max had never been so happy to see anyone before in his life.

  Beth, on the other hand, had been less than impressed.

  She’d initially been excited after he retired from the service. She’d even expressed support for his idea of starting a charity—K-9 Cadets, he’d decided to call it. But as he’d settled in to start the work, she’d grown more and more distant.

  One night, he confronted her. “I thought you wanted this,” he said. He gestured to himself as they stood in the kitchen. “You used to beg me to retire, to get out of Special Forces and find a normal job.”

  “I know.” Her voice was dull, as though she couldn’t muster the energy for this discussion.

  “So what’s changed? Why do you seem so unhappy now that I’m home?”

  She turned to hang up the dish towel, shoulders heaving with a sigh. “I can’t do this anymore.”

  A chill skittered down Max’s spine. “What are you saying?”

  Beth whirled to face him, her expression thunderous. “I’m saying I’m done! I want out of this marriage!”

  Max stared at her, emotions swirling in his chest. His first reaction was disbelief—surely she wasn’t serious? Except he could tell by the look in her eyes she wasn’t joking.

  Anger burned away his confusion. What the hell was wrong with her? He’d turned his life upside down to please her, retiring earlier than he had originally planned all so they could spend more time together and work on their marriage. And now, after he’d made so many sacrifices, she’d decided his efforts weren’t good enough?

  He looked at her, studying her face as though he’d never seen her before. There had been a time when he’d known her every expression, could even predict her thoughts. Now she was a stranger. Max searched for any signs of the woman he’d fallen in love with, but she wasn’t there.

  Perhaps she hadn’t been there for a while.

  “Don’t try to tell me you’re happy,” she said. Her voice was softer now, almost pleading.

  “I’m not,” he admitted. “But I wasn’t ready to give up on our marriage.”

  She glanced away. “You were never here.”

  “I’m here now.” He thought about reaching for her, decided against it. Some part of him sensed there would be no reconciliation, though hope still glimmered at the edges of his thoughts.

  “Not really. You’re so wrapped up in your charity and that damn dog.”

  He couldn’t deny it. But that didn’t mean he was going to accept all the blame.

  “This isn’t only my fault, Beth. Yes, I was gone a lot. But you knew what you were signing up for when you married me. And even when I was home between tours, you didn’t seem to want to reconnect.”

  “You weren’t the same person I married,” she shot back.

  “I could say the same about you,” he said.

  Beth sighed, shook her head. “Why are we arguing about this? Neither one of us is happy. Let’s just call it a wash and walk away.”

  She had a point. Why prolong the inevitable? If she wanted to leave, he wasn’t going to stop her. Max had his pride—he wouldn’t beg her to stay.

  Her phone buzzed on the counter. She glanced at it, and in that instant, Max saw longing in her eyes.

  Suddenly, he knew.

  “Who is he?” His voice was cold. He waited for the jolt of surprise, but it never came. Deep down, he’d known this day was coming.

  Her cheeks flushed, and she shot him a guilty look. “No one you know.”

  Max merely nodded. Then he turned and walked out of the room.

  Lesson learned, he thought bitterly as he packed his things. He’d left the house and never looked back.

  It had been three years since that conversation in the kitchen. Now he stood in a different kitchen, with anticipation instead of dread thrumming through his veins.

  He wasn’t sure what had made him ask Molly to join him for dinner. He certainly wasn’t looking for a relationship—his charity work took up all his time, and he was okay with that.

  But there was something about her that called to him. It wasn’t just her appearance, though there was no denying she was attractive. Blond hair that looked like spun gold, big blue eyes, voluptuous curves in all the right places; Molly Gilford was an incredibly beautiful woman. Beyond that, though, there was a sweetness in her eyes, a lightness of spirit that called to him.

  She hadn’t played coy when he’d walked out half-naked, hadn’t tried to flirt with him. No, she’d been genuinely embarrassed.

  It was a refreshing, unexpected reaction. It made him want to spend more time with her.

  And unless he missed his guess, she wanted to see him, too.

  Her initial refusal had seemed like a knee-jerk reaction, something she’d said because she thought she had to. Even as the words had left her mouth, he could tell by the look on her face she was considering the possibility. It was her mixed signals that had made him ask again. He wasn’t a fan of harassing women, and he definitely knew how to take no for an answer. But Molly’s response had been conflicted enough to warrant another try.

  He was glad she had decided to give him a chance.

  “We need to be on our best behavior tonight,” he said to Furbert. “Don’t jump on her when she walks through the door.”

  Furbert’s tail thumped against the cushion, though he didn’t bother to open his eyes.

  “Right,” Max muttered to himself. “Same goes for me.”

  Tonight was just about dinner. But hopefully the next time could be about something more...

  Chapter 4

  Molly sto
od on the welcome mat of Max’s cabin for the second time that day, holding another bottle of alcohol.

  “It’s not a real date,” she muttered. In the hours since she’d accepted his dinner invitation, Molly had tried to convince herself she was merely fulfilling her responsibilities as director of guest services. This was a chance for her to do a more thorough inspection of the private cabins, to ensure they were equipped to meet every guest’s needs. Furthermore, she had promised Blaine she would make sure Max was well taken care of. Tonight’s dinner was an opportunity to get a better idea of what he would need to make his stay as restful and enjoyable as possible.

  “This is business. Nothing personal.”

  But it certainly felt personal.

  She knocked on the cabin door, anticipation fluttering like butterflies in her stomach as she waited for Max to answer. Their first meeting had been...memorable, to say the least. Part of her still felt a little embarrassed about catching him fresh from the shower. But that hadn’t stopped her from reliving the experience all afternoon. The sight of him all shirtless and damp and warm had been running through her mind on an endless loop.

  If she’d been more daring, she would have touched him. Just reached out and trailed her finger along the water droplets running down his torso. He would have sucked in a breath, and her touch would have given him goose bumps. She would have smiled at him, one of those smiles that says more than words ever could. He would have smiled back, then pulled her in close for a hot kiss...

  Her fantasy was interrupted by the man himself opening the door. Molly jumped but tried to cover it with a smile.

  “Welcome back.” Max grinned at her and pulled the door wide so she could step inside.

  Her cheeks warmed as she moved past him. Did he have any idea she’d just been daydreaming about him? Hopefully her thoughts weren’t that transparent.

  He reached for the bottle of wine, his hand brushing hers as he took it from her. “Thanks for this,” he said, not even bothering to glance at the label before setting it on a nearby table. Then he moved back, his hands on her shoulders as he helped her shrug out of her coat. He never touched her skin, but a shiver ran through her nonetheless.