Soldier's Pregnancy Protocol

by Beth Cornelison

  Before his distraction got them both killed.

  * * *

  Erin rested for the next hour, but her thoughts wouldn’t let her sleep. Alec’s opinion of Bradley stung, partly because he’d voiced a belief that had been lurking at the back of her mind. She wouldn’t have even been on that mountain rappelling if Bradley had respected her reluctance to climb down that cliff. Yet how could she resent Bradley’s high-pressure tactics when he’d died trying to save her?

  Erin rolled over and punched the pillow as her thoughts took another pendulum swing. Bradley’s death had underscored a different sort of phobia from the one that paralyzed her while rappelling. A fear, rooted in her childhood, still thrived inside her and gnawed her gut in moments like this. Life was so fragile, so unpredictable and so prone to steal one’s dreams and the people she loved. Tragedy had left her alone and empty-handed more than once. Was it selfish and weak to just want a quiet, secure life holding the people she loved close to her?

  After losing first her parents and then Bradley, Joey’s death had shaken her life. She’d retreated from life to her lick her wounds, giving up a career she loved while she grieved and mustered the nerve to face an uncertain future. Only in the past few months had she decided what she wanted and set a course toward rebuilding her life.

  Then Alec came along and rattled her safe, well-planned existence. Suddenly she was back in a world of chaos and danger, at risk of losing the security and peace she wanted for herself and her child.

  The low rumble of his voice as he placed a phone call to arrange their pickup with someone from his black ops team drew her attention. Black ops, she thought, and shivered. The stark contrast between her life and Alec’s shouldn’t have bothered her so much. But it did. The man who’d comforted her, soothed her when the memory of Bradley’s death had overwhelmed her hormone-laden and taxed system, didn’t mesh in her mind with a man who hunted terrorists.

  I’ll find another way down from here.

  His concession to her fear, his willingness to inconvenience himself in order to comfort her, surprised her. Pleasantly so. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had put her needs and wishes first. His kindness settled in her soul like a warm blanket on a cold night. Comforting, reassuring, safe. Not words she’d have associated with Alec when she’d first met him. Not traits he likely saw in himself.

  Yet earlier, Alec had been so sweet and gentle, she’d let herself take refuge in the solace he offered. She’d sunk into the lulling murmur of his deep voice and drowned in the oblivion of his kiss. A shiver chased over her skin. Dear heaven, the man could curl her toes with his kiss… .

  Alec ended his call and glanced her way. When she met his gaze, his brow puckered in a frown. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

  “No. Couldn’t sleep. Too many things on my mind.”

  “Well, if one of those things is us getting off the mountain, put it out of your head. I’ve got a plan that involves a minimum of risk or daring on your part.”

  Erin sat up on the bed and wrapped her arms around her bent knees. “So I heard. We’re hiking out and meeting a helicopter, huh?”

  He nodded. “It won’t be an easy hike, even if most of it is downhill. But there’ll be no parachuting, no rappelling, no rope bridges—”

  Erin nodded and smiled her appreciation. “And I promise to keep myself pulled together for the duration. No more tears, no more falling apart.”

  Silently Erin prayed fate didn’t toss anything more trying than a snowy hike and a helicopter ride in her path to test her resolve. But fate hadn’t been particularly kind to her in the past.

  Chapter 8

  “Why did you bring me with you?” Erin asked the next morning as they bundled up in preparation to hike down the mountain. “You could have left me in a hotel, left me at the hospital, left me with Knife and his pal. But you didn’t.”

  Alec scoffed as if the answer were obvious, when, in fact, he’d been asking himself the same question since the moment he’d returned to her house to rescue her from William Manny’s knife. “They would have killed you.”

  “Maybe so. It still would have been a lot easier for you to leave me when you had the chance.”

  He continued filling his pack with accessories for camping that night and navigating the snowy mountain. “No one has ever accused me of doing things the easy way.”

  “But I’d bet you don’t purposely make things harder on yourself, either. I had to have made things harder for you this week.”

  Harder? Oh, yeah, he’d spent a great deal of the past days hard. He gritted his teeth against the flash of heat her unintended double entendre called to his mind.

  When she moved up beside him and touched his arm, he resisted the urge to flinch away from her searing touch. Memories of their ill-advised kisses and what could easily have happened yesterday on the couch scorched his brain.

  “I just want to understand why you’d do this for me when you didn’t have to.”

  He met the shadows of doubt darkening her chocolate eyes. Her uncertainty spoke for just how little she’d had anyone looking out for her interests in the past. Her late husband’s selfishness galled him. If she were his wife…

  Alec caught his breath, stopped the thought before it fully formed. He had no business thinking of Erin in any context other than an innocent woman who needed him to return her safely home so she could get on with her life. That meant nixing the threat that hung over her because of his mistakes.

  Alec rolled the tension from his shoulders. “I don’t know why.”

  She opened her mouth to probe the issue further, and he cut her off, eager to change the subject. “Hand me the emergency heat packs over there on the counter, will you?”

  Her grave expression as she handed him the chemical packs that could mean the difference between hypothermia and survival told him she understood their hike was still filled with inherent dangers. But she didn’t complain, didn’t protest.

  With Erin’s help, he had the bunker secured within the hour, and they headed up the ladder into the biting winter wind.

  “We want to move fast, get to the pickup spot as quickly as possible so we can make camp and build a fire before nightfall,” Alec said as he adjusted one of the packs on her shoulders. “But you need to watch out for ice on the rocks. It will be steep in places, and the winds will be tricky on the north side of the mountain.”

  “Got it.” She gave him a confident nod.

  “Stay close. Tell me if you need a break to rest.”

  “I’ll be fine. Lead on, Captain.” She flashed another grin that made him hate the idea of telling her goodbye when they reached civilization.

  But if he’d gotten correct information from Jake, their pilot, when he arranged for the helicopter to meet them, the crashed and burned-out plane had led authorities to pronounce Alec dead. Just as he’d hoped. Now only select few members of his black ops team knew he was alive and where to find him.

  Erin was safe to go home. She could finish preparations for welcoming her baby to the world. A pang wrenched through him when he thought of Erin bringing her child home from the hospital alone, facing parenting by herself.

  From nowhere, a startling image flickered in his mind of himself at her side, playing the father role and sharing in the baby’s homecoming. He gave his head a brisk shake. Clearly the past few days cooped up with her had toyed with his wiring. He was the last person who needed to set up house and try to be a father.

  What did he know about home and hearth and all things domestic? He certainly had no reference point from his own youth. When he’d joined the black ops team, he’d sacrificed any notions of home and family to his job.

  Alec hoisted his backpack to his shoulders, then led the way down toward the far side of the mountain. As he hiked, battered by the icy wind, his thoughts turned to his future with the black ops team once he found Daniel and rooted out the traitor among them.

  “Do you think Daniel is at this location in L
ouisiana he mapped out? Do you think that’s why he sent the letter?” Erin’s question drew him out of his deliberations. Clearly her thoughts ran along lines similar to his.

  “Maybe. More likely he’s pointing me toward information about who sold us out. Covering his bases in case—” Alec blamed the blast of cold wind for stealing his breath and causing the strangling tightness in his chest.

  “In case?” Erin prompted quietly.

  Alec redistributed the weight of his backpack on his shoulders and squelched the thought of losing his partner. “In case something happens to him. He wants me to bring the scum responsible for betraying us to justice.”

  Every man for himself. Don’t jeopardize the mission. Alec reminded himself he had no reason to feel guilty. And yet…

  “You picked any names for your baby?” He couldn’t be sure where the question came from, but he grasped at anything to get his mind off his missing partner. Off his recent string of costly mistakes—letting Manny and his partner escape, kissing Erin, letting her under his skin.

  “A few,” Erin said, already sounding winded from their hike. “If it’s a girl, she’ll be Annie. For my mother.”

  He stepped carefully over a fallen and icy tree in the path and turned to help her step over the obstacle. “I like it. What if it’s a boy?”

  “Hmm. I could go a number of ways there. Bradley would be an obvious choice.”

  Acid burned his gut. He swung back around and crunched through the snow without telling her what he thought of that name. He assured himself his dislike for Erin’s late husband had to do with the man’s manipulation of Erin’s feelings and not envy over her continued loyalty to the father of her child.

  The bite of acid grew hollow and cold as he marched on through the frozen woods. Other than Daniel, Alec couldn’t remember anyone ever showing him such undying faith and commitment. Certainly not his mother. He’d been looking out for himself most of his life.

  “Maybe Howard, for my dad.” Erin’s chipper tone pulled him from the dark track of his thoughts. She chuckled. “But Howard Bauer is kind of a tongue twister. I couldn’t do that to my child.”

  He forced a grin. “Your child thanks you.”

  When she grew quiet, Alec knew without looking her hand had slipped to her belly to stroke the growing swell. Erin wouldn’t be the sort of mother who left her son to fend for himself on the streets. Gritting his teeth, he shoved down the morose track of his thoughts.

  “I’ve thought about the name Joey, too. But…I don’t know. Maybe not.”

  “Why Joey?”

  She didn’t answer right away, and he slowed his pace enough to glance back at her, check that she was all right.

  Her head was down her, her brow puckered, hinting at the deep, upsetting path of her thoughts. Then he remembered her mentioning someone named Joey Finley before. Remembered her troubled reaction to the name.

  “Will you tell me about Joey Finley?” he asked, pitching his voice low.

  “I…” She hesitated. Sighed. “That’s a rather fresh wound. Talking about it is like ripping off a bandage, making it bleed again. And since I promised to keep a stiff upper lip for the duration…” She attempted a teasing grin that fell short of its mark.

  “I only asked because you’ve mentioned him before.” He shook his head and picked up his pace. “You don’t have to tell me if it hurts too much. I understand.”

  Silence fell between them for several steps, and Alec focused on the terrain ahead. The mountain dropped off sharply and hiking the steeper incline would be harder and more treacherous.

  “They say wounds heal better given air,” Erin said a moment later, and he heard the reluctance in her voice.

  “You don’t have to talk about it—”

  “It’s okay. I probably should. It’s just…”

  The crunch of her footsteps stopped, and he pivoted to find her looking out at the white-capped mountain range. She hunched deeper into the large parka she’d borrowed from him. When she spoke, a frosty cloud formed from her breath. “Joey was one of my students, a first-grader. He was a precious little boy, but smaller than the rest of the kids in his class. Kind of a loner.”

  She angled a melancholy glance toward him that drilled into his chest and dredged up buried memories of his own childhood.

  “I took a special interest in him, because he seemed to be having such a hard time. The other boys weren’t mean to him exactly, but they didn’t include him, either. Joey’s self-confidence was pretty low, and I just wanted him to know he had a friend, wanted him to not give up on himself. To keep believing in himself. I never—” The color leached from her face, and she hugged herself tighter.

  Alec tensed, too, sensing the emotional blow creeping up on him, waiting to attack. “Erin, don’t do this if it upsets—”

  “He was dyslexic, it turns out.” She gave a sad smile and plowed on with her story. “That’s why he was having so much trouble learning to write his name.”

  When her voice cracked, she drew a deep breath. Erin composed herself and leveled her shoulders before she continued. She forged on with grit and courage and determination, despite the ominous shadows lurking in her eyes. “One day he seemed especially upset, so I kept him in from recess to talk with him. To help him. I…told him about going skydiving with Bradley. I told him I’d thought I could never do it, but I did. I told him how many times I had to jump off the platform at the airfield and practice my landing roll before I got the nerve to go up in the airplane. ‘If I can jump out of an airplane,’ I said, ‘then you can write your name. It just takes practice and faith. But I believe in you, Joey. You can do it.’”

  Erin’s voice quivered, but her eyes stayed dry.

  Thank God. Alec wasn’t sure he could handle tears right now. He was having a hard enough time hearing her story about a boy who sounded too much like himself. Except he’d never had a teacher take the personal interest in him that Erin had for this child.

  Alec cleared the thickness from his throat. “Joey was lucky to have a teacher like you.” Someone who cared.

  Her head whipped around. “Was he?” The bitter note in her voice surprised him. “His parents wouldn’t agree. Not after Joey jumped off the third-floor balcony of their apartment trying to be like Ms. Bauer.” Her eyes grew bright with emotion, and her voice held a sharp edge.

  Dread jerked a knot in Alec’s gut. “He died.”

  “Yes, he died! He thought if his teacher could skydive from an airplane, then he could jump from three floors up with a sheet for a parachute! He broke his neck. Never wrote his name again. Because of me. Because I offered myself as some glowing example of overcoming obstacles and persevering.” She slapped a hand against her chest for emphasis. “I only wanted to motivate him, to encourage him. Instead I led him into disaster. I planted the idea in his head that taking risks was something to be admired. I was the worst kind of role model for that child, and he died because of my mistake.”

  The agony and anguish, the guilt in Erin’s voice made Alec’s stomach pitch. “Erin, you can’t blame yourself—”

  “Why not? It was my fault! His parents threatened to sue the school if I wasn’t fired. Not that I could stay at the school after that anyway. I was heartsick about Joey’s death. What kind of teacher gives a child even the suggestion that jumping out of a plane is something to brag about? How could I have been so stupid?”

  She spun away, trembling, then rubbed her hands over her face. “Damn it, I promised not to fall apart again.” She sucked in a deep breath and released a tremulous sigh. “If I could be that careless, that irresponsible as a teacher, I shudder to think what kind of parent I’m going to be.” She scoffed. “What was I thinking?”

  Alec stepped toward her, squeezed her arm through the thick padding of the parka. “Don’t beat yourself up like this.”

  She shrugged away from his grip and marched on through the snow. “Stop. I deserve a lot worse than beating myself up. That boy died because of me.” />
  Alec fell into step beside her. “And where were Joey’s parents when he climbed out on that balcony to jump? What about their responsibility?”

  She shook her head, walking faster, her steps clipped and angry. He seized her arm again and brought her to an abrupt halt. Turning her toward him, he caught her chin in his fingers. “You may have made a miscalculation when you encouraged that boy, Erin, but you gave him more than some children ever get at home or at school. You shared part of yourself. You cared.”

  Painful memories seeped out of the dark corners of his soul where he’d locked them. He gritted his teeth so hard his jaw hurt, and he struggled to shove the memories back down. “Don’t ever undersell the difference that can make.”

  She closed her eyes, sighed. When she lifted her gaze to him again, a sad resignation filled her eyes. “I miss my students. I want to teach again, but I’m scared. I don’t want to screw up and hurt one of those precious babies.”

  He tugged her close and tucked her head under his chin. “Don’t hide your heart away, Erin. The world needs more teachers like you. Your caring and commitment make all the difference.”

  Alec released her and stepped back before he did something foolish. Like kiss her. Which he wanted to do so badly his bones ached. Erin’s sweetness, her deep love and compassion, was everything he’d been denied growing up. And exactly what he couldn’t afford in his line of work.

  No matter how the barren part of his soul longed for the love she had to offer, he couldn’t give in to the empty ache. Lonely as it was, his position on the black ops team required he maintain the kind of cool dispassion and detachment that had marked his formative years.

  He’d be wise to remember that and keep an emotional distance with Erin, as well. She was rapidly becoming far too important to him.

  * * *

  Your caring and commitment make all the difference.