“You’re right,” he admitted with a hint of reluctance. “I’ve seen you think your way out of some tough spots. I learned to trust that about you.”
She was mildly surprised he’d acknowledged her expertise, but before she could reply, Nate whimpered in his seat, making her turn. The baby was rolling his head from side to side. After a minute, he stuck his thumb in his mouth and drifted back to sleep. That was a habit she’d have to help him break later, but for the moment she was grateful it settled him.
“He’s okay,” she said, even though Anderson hadn’t asked. Her relief was short lived when she faced forward again. Anderson had gone rigid next to her. What was that about? She checked her side mirror, looking for signs of trouble, but they were on a country road without another car in sight. “What is it?”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “We’ve got things to discuss… about him.”
So that was it. Her hiding Nate’s existence must have seemed like the ultimate betrayal. Still, she’d had her reasons. Good ones, she still believed. None of that helped her current situation, though. She rarely cracked under pressure—professional pressure, anyway. Since having a child, she’d found her personal world had shifted. She felt things more and more deeply.
At the moment she felt a wave of nerves, almost enough to make her squirm. “Okay. If we’re going to get through… whatever is going on”—she gestured, encompassing the car, their situation—“we need to trust each other, which means you have to believe I’m telling you the truth about Nate. So, do you believe he’s yours?” It pained her to have to ask, but it would be a reasonable concern on his part. She could tell him that she hadn’t slept with anyone else for almost a year before Nate was conceived and no one since, but she couldn’t prove it.
“He’s mine,” Anderson said with almost no inflection. “I can see it in his face.”
She almost chuckled at the way he said it. She’d read an article in Scientific American disputing the theory that first-born children resembled their fathers as a kind of evolutionary guarantee the father would accept the child. Supposedly, it wasn’t true, but she wondered about that, because she certainly saw Anderson when she looked at their son.
“Good to hear,” she said. “And I told you why I didn’t contact you before you deployed.”
“Yeah.” He sounded skeptical, which didn’t surprise her. It was probably hard for him to believe that she’d been halfway through her pregnancy before acknowledging it to herself. “What about after you realized you were pregnant—and after Nate’s birth? Did you even attempt to reach me?”
“No, I didn’t,” she admitted. She could have gotten word to him if she’d wanted to. She knew the channels and how to cut through the red tape. That ability had allowed her to pinpoint the day Anderson arrived home from his deployment, but she hadn’t used it to locate him earlier.
“You see my problem, then,” he said. “You withheld information. Never trust a source that does that.” It was a standard in intelligence work where sources sometimes played for both sides. They were compromised and deemed untrustworthy. You might listen to what they had to say, but you didn’t trust it.
“I did a risk analysis. Actually, I did several.” She’d reevaluated her situation every month. Each time she’d concluded that Anderson didn’t need to know about Nate. Her most recent analysis, though, had led to a different outcome. The data hadn’t changed, but her perspective had. If someone had kept a child as beautiful and sweet as Nate from her, she’d have been ready to do murder. She’d had no way of knowing whether Anderson would care even a little bit, but it was his decision to make. She couldn’t do it for him.
The unknown in her prediction had been Anderson’s reaction to being a father. She had no hard data to indicate what his response would be, but her gut had told her he wouldn’t accept fatherhood easily. Considering the circumstances, she felt no joy in being right about that.
“And what were your findings?” he prompted.
“As you know—since I’m here—I recently decided you deserved to know.” She couldn’t elaborate on that. It was an assumption built on emotion, not fact, and she wasn’t sure he’d understand. Sometimes she didn’t understand it herself, but there it was.
Their situation, though… Even the best data wouldn’t have pointed to her being on the run with a baby and the baby’s father, who might not want to have anything to do with her or Nate. She blew out a sigh, frustrated at the lack of a plan that would guide them. She didn’t have enough information and no resources she was willing to tap. They could drive to Hilton Head Island, where her mother now lived, but she wasn’t taking trouble to her mom’s door. She’d dismissed that as a possibility an hour ago.
“We need to find a place to spend the night,” she said after a long silence. Nate would wake up and not like being confined to his car seat. Plus, she needed to feed him.
“I’m on it.” Anderson tapped a button on his steering wheel, seemingly relieved to have something to do. “Call Patrick.” He spoke the command and waited while the automated system dialed.
“Hey, Anderson,” a man’s voice answered on the second ring. “Glad you’re back in the States. Do you want to come over and see—”
“Sorry, man. Not today. I’ve got a problem,” Anderson said, then efficiently explained about the attack on Violet’s car, the note, and the baby in the back seat.
“You’ve got a kid?” whoever this Patrick was interrupted to ask. The bullets in her car and the note in Russian didn’t give him pause, but the idea of Anderson as a father made him react. That was interesting but not comforting.
“Yeah, he’s just a baby,” Anderson said with no warmth in his tone.
“Let me get this straight,” Patrick said. “You’re on the run with a baby. Man, I thought my life was complicated. What do you need from me?”
“A safe place to land for the night and a different car,” Anderson said. His eyes had never left the road or the mirrors. “You got any connections I can use?”
“Maybe. Let me make some phone calls. Kenton might have some ideas, too. Does he know about your kid?”
“Negative. I found out today,” Anderson said. “Call me back when you have something.” He clicked the button to end the call.
Violet had heard frustration in his voice, but she couldn’t be sure of the source. Was it being a father or their situation that was breaking his cool?
She hoped it was the second. Nate wasn’t a problem. He was a child, a beautiful, lovable little boy. Her mother’s heart broke to think Anderson might view their son as nothing more than an inconvenience. Of course Nate made things more complicated and brought her world a degree of fear that bordered on terror given their circumstances, but when she snuggled her child against her, any trouble was worth it.
Would Anderson come to feel that, as she had? Or was he planning to walk away as soon as he could? She’d be okay if he did. Disappointed and sad for Nate, but okay. As she’d told Anderson at his house, she didn’t need anything from him. Her father had been out of the picture by the time she was one, and her mother had been amazing. She made single motherhood look easy. Not once had Violet felt deprived. She’d been curious about her father, but she’d never longed for one because she knew she had everything she needed in her mother.
Violet could follow her mother’s example and be the same kind of parent, giving her baby mountains of love and security in other ways. She was willing to raise Nate that way, but would her child be even better off if he had two loving parents? She thought so.
Violet drummed her fingers against her leg, wishing she had the missing pieces to the puzzle they were in… and access to Anderson’s thoughts. No hope of either seemed imminent. At the moment, she’d settle for getting out of the car.
They kept driving, with Anderson periodically taking calls from Patrick and Kenton. The other men appeared to be close friends as well as SEAL teammates. Between the two of them, they set up an exchange of cars and a hotel
they deemed safe for the night. It was a temporary fix to a problem that had no foreseeable end.
4
“Is he sick?” Anderson asked when they were safely in the hotel room. They’d been on the road for five hours, and Nate had cried for the last one. Driving with a crying kid in the back seat should be some special endorsement on your license or used in training people to overcome distractions, because it had been hard as hell to keep his focus.
“I don’t think so. Babies are sensitive to changes in routine. Today’s been rough.” Violet had made a makeshift changing table on top of the desk in the room. She seemed to have quite the supply of stuff in that one bag. A padded mat, extra clothes, diapers, wipes… and she’d used them all in the past half hour.
“Never seen so much poop,” Anderson commented as Violet bagged another messy diaper in plastic. “You sure he’s okay?”
“Look, I’m not a pediatrician,” she snapped. “I do have five months of experience as a parent, though, and you’ve had one day. Just let me do my thing.”
Anderson held his hands up and backed off. That tone of voice was much more what he was used to from her. She didn’t like having her competence questioned. And, hell, in this case she definitely was the expert in the room. Anderson sat on the edge of the bed and looked at Nate, who was gurgling peacefully now, nothing like the screaming kid from the car or the pooping machine he’d been since they got in the room. Was that kind of rapid change common with kids?
Violet had one hand on Nate’s stomach while she dug deeper into the bag with her other one. Should he offer to help her? She seemed like she was managing, but he didn’t like to feel useless.
“Do you want me to find a store and get some… baby stuff?” he asked.
She huffed out a sigh. “I suppose.”
“Okay,” he said, pulling the notepad from his pocket and flipping to a blank page. “Tell me what to get.”
“A few packs of diapers, size two,” she said.
“They have sizes?” he asked. She answered with a glare. “Got it. What else?”
“Wipes. A couple of outfits. Get ones labeled either six months or six to nine months.”
He scribbled her request, not pointing out that the baby was five months old. There must be a mystery to this he didn’t understand, or else his kid was big for his age. Anderson liked that idea better. “Anything else?”
“No, that should get us by.” Her voice cracked, making him wonder how close she was to tears. She always seemed so able to handle anything, but apparently today had her on edge.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said and left the room.
A quick search on his phone directed Anderson to a nearby Target, where he made his way to the baby section. Diapers first. He sucked in a breath at the wall of choices. Was a size two the same in all the brands? He started reading labels. It seemed so, but what did he know? He selected a couple of different packages and got extra wipes as well before heading to the clothing section.
Buying baby clothes was not something Anderson had ever expected to do, but he sorted through a rack of tiny outfits until he found one in primary colors and another with sailboats on the front. That was a start. He’d have to get Nate a US Navy T-shirt. He’d seen those on the kids of his fellow SEALs.
Wait. What the hell was he thinking? It wasn’t like he planned to help raise the boy. Which was probably what Violet expected. He could guess her analysis had showed he’d be a poor father. She hadn’t admitted that to him in the car, but he could tell she doubted him.
He'd be angry about that if he didn’t feel so damn worried about their situation being complicated by having a baby with them. Kids made everything tougher. He’d seen that over and over with his SEAL teammates—including Patrick, who’d had to fight for custody of his daughter. Not a place Anderson had ever wanted to go. Life was easier if he only had to worry about himself—he’d been managing that since he was ten. That he could do successfully, but adding a baby and a woman to the mix blew his carefully planned life all to hell.
He gave himself a shake. He’d figure all that out later. First, he had to deal with the threat against Violet and Nate. He passed the food section his way to the checkout and detoured to pick up a couple of premade sandwiches and a few pieces of fruit. He looked at the cart, then grabbed a package of chocolate cookies for Violet and some protein bars for himself.
When he returned to the hotel, Nate was fussing again.
“Thank goodness,” Violet said in greeting. “More diapers.” As she brushed her hair back from her face, her gaze fell on the food. “Good call.”
“Do you want me to open any of this up?” he offered, happy that he’d pleased her.
“Later.” She boosted Nate onto her shoulder and paced with him around the small room. “Come on, little man, give Mama a break, okay?” Her voice was soft and soothing, and it seemed to be having an effect. Nate’s eyes started to close.
Not wanting to disturb either of them, Anderson slipped out to check the area around the hotel. He walked around the parking lot and a three-block radius, looking for black SUVs—though, of course, the assailants could have changed vehicles. Still, nothing he saw raised any red flags. As he headed back, he phoned Patrick for an update.
“I think you should call Rogers,” Patrick suggested. “He’s got civilian connections that we don’t.”
“Good idea,” Anderson said. He’d have thought of contacting Dan Rogers, a former SEAL who now owned a private security company, himself if the day hadn’t been such a shitshow. “I’ll do that. Thanks for your help.”
“No problem. Hey, Anderson, what’s your son’s name?”
“Nate.” He didn’t elaborate because he was still trying to process the fact that twenty-four hours ago he hadn’t even known of the baby’s existence.
“Take care of him,” Patrick said. “’Night.”
Anderson made his way back to the hotel room and paused outside the door to listen. Silence. He went in. Violet held her finger to her lips and pointed to the sleeping baby in the center of the bed.
“I’ve been waiting for you to come back,” she whispered. “Can you keep an eye on him while I take a bath?”
“Yeah, I guess. What do I do if he wakes up and cries?” Anderson shot the snoozing baby a look. He seemed to be out, but looks were deceiving when it came to kids. He’d learned that today.
“Hold him. I need twenty minutes to myself, okay?” She looked more tired than he’d ever seen her. “Can you give me that?”
He nodded and caught her arm when she went to turn away. “Did you call anyone while I was out?”
“No. I think it’s best not to. I need time and more information to analyze the threat. I’m not comfortable with turning this over to the agency.” Her voice sounded determined, but he caught an edge of fear. “We’re better off on our own for a while.”
“Suits me.” Anderson could have reached out to his commanding officer for assistance, but like her, he was reluctant to involve others until they had more facts. Rogers, whom he’d known for years and who was no longer part of the military hierarchy, was the one person he was confident he could trust. He took a minute to tell her about the former SEAL and his company.
“If you’re that confident of his integrity, he seems like our best bet,” she agreed. “His firm can gather intel for me to analyze.”
“And what am I supposed to do while you’re doing that?” Anderson asked.
“Same as always,” she said with a wan smile. “Keep us safe. Yell if you need me.”
She disappeared into the bathroom, and he heard water running in the tub a minute later. He turned the lights low and checked outside the window for any problems before pulling the drapes shut tight. There was nothing else he could do, so he sat and took out his notebook. He unwrapped the remaining sandwich—Violet must have eaten the other one while he was out—and quickly ate it while he began writing down everything from the day, along with pertinent informat
ion from their mission in Moscow.
He’d been at work for only a few minutes when Nate stirred, his little fists shooting into the air. A second later, he began to whimper. Anderson rushed over and found the boy’s eyes wide open and staring.
“I need you to sleep, buddy,” he murmured. “Your mom’s tired and needs a break. And I’ve got no idea what to do with you.” The whimper became a sob, and Nate’s face turned red and scrunched as if he was getting ready to really yell. “Come on. Don’t do that. Here, I’ll pick you up, okay?”
Anderson slipped his arms under the boy and brought him to his shoulder. He’d held him a couple of times during the day, but never when he was crying or couldn’t be readily handed back to Violet.
“How can someone so little make so much trouble?” Anderson muttered. His son’s weight felt like nothing in his arms, but he still worried that he wasn’t doing this right. He rubbed Nate’s back like he’d seen Violet do and put a little bounce in his step as he paced across the room.
“You like that. What else makes you happy?” Anderson looked down at the boy’s face. He was studying Anderson as if waiting for something. “You want me to talk?” He kept his tone gentle. “I can do that. I’m guessing you have no idea what I’m saying, so this conversation is totally off the record, right?”
Nate gurgled and stuck his thumb in his mouth. The kid was cute, but Jesus, Anderson wasn’t ready for this. He had too much baggage of his own. Since he didn’t know what to say, he spilled out what was on his mind.
“My daddy was a jerk, you know.” Anderson would have used a stronger word if he’d been talking to an adult. “The worst kind of man. Irresponsible, criminal, abusive when it suited him. I’ve spent my life trying to be different from him. You see, my dad had a kid he didn’t want. Me. My birth did nothing but cause problems for my parents. You’ve got it better than that. Your mama loves you, and you’re lucky there. You aren’t so lucky in a daddy, though. And I’ve gotta tell you that I didn’t ask for this—for you.” He paused, feeling guilty about his words, but that guilt wasn’t stronger than the fear inside him. “You seem nice when you aren’t screaming, but there’s no place in my life for a baby. I’m just not cut out for that kind of life. I’ve got friends, teammates, people I trust, but I never let anyone close. You know why?” The baby looked up at him with big eyes. “I’ll tell you. Here’s my fatherly advice, probably the only bit I’ll ever give you. If you let people close, they mess with you. Mess with your head, and you’ve got to dig your way out of that. Pull yourself up from nothing. It’s hard, but I did it.”
The SEAL’s Surprise Baby: Hartsville’s SEAL Heroes Book Two Page 3