SEAL Warriors

by Katie Knight

  “Right,” the officer finally said, frowning down at his notepad before looking up and giving them a smile. “Well, congratulations, Jack, Mary.” It took a second for Sam to remember to smile in reply. It was still an adjustment answering to Mary Smith. “Sorry you had such a rough introduction to our town,” the deputy continued. “I suppose the rest of this can wait until morning, seeing as how you’ve got the infant and all. What’s her name, by the way?”

  Her daughter, bless her heart, took that moment to awaken with a mighty wail. Sam bent to comfort her, saying loud enough for Jack to hear, “Shhh, sweet girl. Don’t cry, my Glory. Mommy’s here.”

  “Glory,” Jack said, a touch of awe in his voice, the sound hitting her straight in the feels. “My daughter’s name is Glory. Fitting right? Ex-SEAL and all.”

  The officer gave them both a friendly nod. “Yeah, good choice. Jack, be sure to have her at the police station first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll call a tow truck to pull the car out of the ditch.” He turned around and walked back to his squad car to radio in and Sam exhaled slowly. One mess dealt with. One to go.

  Jack was still staring down at Glory, his expression unreadable. “Is she mine?”

  Sam avoided the question and posed one of her own to Jack instead. No way was she letting him or anyone else into her daughter’s life until she was sure she could trust them completely. And while Jack Williams had saved her life, more than once, she didn’t really know him. Her father was a rich man, and a desperate one too. He’d pay anyone any price to have her taken out before she could testify against him at his upcoming trial. Plenty of people could be corrupted by that kind of money, including ex-SEALs. She crossed her arms and stepped in front of Glory’s carrier, effectively blocking his view. “Why did you tell that cop that we were engaged?”

  The harshness of her tone seemed to snap him out of his daze. Jack blinked at her a moment, then turned and started to walk back toward a red SUV parked down the way a bit on the berm. “Got you off the hook, didn’t it? C’mon, let’s get off the road.”

  She still wasn’t one hundred percent sure she could trust him…but what other choice did she have? She couldn’t just stay out here all night. Picking up Glory’s carrier, she hurried after him, afraid that he might leave without her since she’d avoided his question. He climbed in behind the wheel, then waited while she got Glory secured then got into the passenger side of the vehicle. He started the engine but didn’t go.

  Jack looked over at her, his gray gaze tired beyond his years, and asked her again, “Is she mine?”

  Sam didn’t answer right away, instead staring out into the dark woods beside them. “Does it matter?”

  “Hell yes, it matters to me.”

  She sighed. “Will you still help me, even if she’s not?”

  “Huh?” One side of Jack’s full lips hiked up, Elvis-style. “You know me better than that.”

  “Do I?” She met his gaze then, taking in the lines of his handsome face. The high cheekbones, the chiseled jaw, the shadow of stubble that gave him a slightly piratical look. He was a bit thinner now than she remembered, more lithe and sinewy. It suited him. But being hot didn’t make him trustworthy. Too much was at stake for her and little Glory to take chances. “All I know about you is that you used to be a SEAL and that you’re pretty good with rescue missions.”

  “Pretty good?” This earned her a raised brow. “Honey, I used to be the best.”

  Sam ignored the frisson of awareness that endearment sent skittering through her system and instead focused on that last part. “Used to be?”

  He shook his head and looked away. “I don’t know what I am anymore.”

  “Are you working for my father?” Blunt, but necessary.

  “No. Of course not. Why would you even ask me that?”

  It was her turn to arch a brow at him.

  “Fine. Valid question, I suppose.” Jack gave a small chuckle. “No. I’ve never had any contact with Stefan Engel or anyone associated with him. Well, unless you count the night we spent together.” At her scowl, he said, “No. I’m not working for your father.”

  The knot of tension between her shoulder blades eased slightly. She didn’t know him that well, but she believed him. She sort of had to at this point. “Okay. Then yes, Glory is your daughter.”

  “Jesus,” Jack said, under his breath. That same gobsmacked look reappeared on his face and he took a few deep breaths, as if trying to convince himself it was true. “I’ve got a kid. A daughter.”

  “Yep, you do.” Now that her secret was out, Sam felt way too vulnerable sitting in the dark on the side of an old country road next to the man who’d rocked her world the year prior. “Now, can we get out of here? I don’t like to be out in the open.”

  Jack blinked at her. “Speaking of that, where are your handlers? Aren’t you supposed to be under lock and key to hide you from your father?”

  Unexpected guilt swamped her as she thought of the agent—whose name she still couldn’t remember—who had died trying to protect her. After the mess she’d left behind at that rest stop, she had no right to bring that kind of danger to Jack’s doorstep. He’d been nothing but kind to her in the past, had helped her to safety and a new life. He didn’t deserve someone like her threatening whatever peace he’d found in the middle of nowhere. But she also had an obligation to her daughter, who thankfully had quieted down again and was now drooling all over the set of plastic keys attached to the handle of her carrier. She was starting to teethe earlier, at only five months, so the chewing helped her sore gums feel better.

  Sam inhaled and forced her tense shoulders to relax. If Jack was going to help her, he needed to know what he was getting into. That way he could make an informed decision. But first, she needed to get somewhere safe to change Glory and use the bathroom herself, then figure out what the hell she was going to do from here. Sam swallowed hard and gave him a side glance. “I am. Take me home and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

  After a few agonizing seconds, Jack shifted the SUV into Drive and pulled off the berm in a spray of gravel and exhaust, cursing under his breath as they went. It wasn’t the ideal situation, Sam knew, but at least for now, she and Glory were safe. That’s all that mattered. She’d deal with the rest later.

  5

  As the Bronco rumbled down the highway toward the outskirts of Rally, Jack was still reeling from the news that he was a father. Before his retirement from his SEAL team, the women he’d dated or had relationships with had been transient, not because that’s the way he wanted things but because it was hard to have anything long-term when he never knew where he’d be one week to the next. Now that he was retired, however, he’d hoped to maybe find his special someone and settle down. Sure, his mom, Jillian, was great, but he wanted more emotional support than his family could give.

  Especially since he had a daughter.

  He glanced in the rearview mirror at the baby in the car seat and blinked.

  Wow. Lovers changed and moved on, but a baby was permanent.

  Still, beneath all the shock and uncertainty, a tiny niggle of excitement bloomed.

  A dad. He was a dad now.

  The SUV hit a rough patch of roadway, jarring him out of his dopey daydreams of frilly costumes and dance recitals when Glory got older. Before any of that took place—if any of that took place—they needed to deal with the present situation. Jack still had a lot of questions he needed answered about how Sam and Glory had ended up in Nebraska on a cool spring night.

  Through the shadows, he glanced over at her again. She looked like hell after the accident, hair mussed, face pale, makeup smudged beneath her eyes. Still, each time he looked at her, all he could see was the woman from that long-ago night in Costa Rica—all lush dark hair and big brown eyes, swamped in borrowed clothes he’d taken pleasure in peeling off of her. Speaking of clothes…he’d seen her purse and the diaper bag, but nothing else.

  “Is the rest of your stuff in the
sedan?” he asked, cursing himself for not checking the trunk before they’d left the scene. “I’ve got stuff at home you can sleep in tonight, but I’m not equipped for an infant.”

  Sam frowned then looked at him, as if her mind had been a million miles away. Given what she’d been through with that semi tonight, she was probably confused and still a bit dazed. “I don’t have any other stuff. We had to leave in a hurry after my dad’s goons discovered the location of my safe house.”

  “Oh.” He scowled and stared out the windshield again, the lights of Rally drawing closer now. So, no clothes, no supplies for the baby, only what was in the bag. More warning bells went off in his head. Something definitely wasn’t right.

  On the outskirts of town, they’d built a new Walmart Supercenter and he signaled then pulled into the parking lot, snagging a spot close to the door, then cutting the engine. It was after ten now and though the store was open twenty-four hours, it was pretty well deserted. He unsnapped his seatbelt, then turned slightly to face her, resting his forearm atop the steering wheel. “Listen, Sam. I think it’s time you leveled with me. I want to help you, but I can’t do it if I don’t know the whole story.”

  She stared down at her hands in her lap, oddly quiet and reserved. He’d only been with her previously that one night, but still. Now though, her hesitancy sent an icy chill through him. Whatever it was that was making her stay silent, it must be bad.

  “He’s dead,” Sam said at last, the words barely a whisper.

  “Who’s dead?” He leaned a bit closer. “Your father?”

  “No.” She looked up then, her dark eyes haunted and her hands trembling slightly. “The marshal who was driving the sedan. He shot him.”

  “Him who?” Jack’s scowl deepened as the knot of tension tightened. “You were driving the sedan through the woods. No one else was in the car when I found it in the ditch. There was no blood. No bullet holes. Nothing.”

  For a moment, he started to worry that maybe she’d hit her head during the accident and had a concussion, but then she sighed and straightened, squaring her shoulders. “No. That sedan back there belongs to the US Marshal’s Service. It’s government issue. My cover had been compromised, so two marshals were moving me to a new safe location. But then the one marshal asked the other to pull over at a rest stop so he could use the bathroom.” She stopped and shook her head. “I knew there was something wrong with him. I had a bad feeling, the way he kept watching me and all. But I put it down to my own paranoia.”

  She gave a sad snort and Jack reached over to take her hand. “What happened?”

  “It was a setup. Agent Meade went into the bathroom at the rest stop. When he didn’t come back after ten minutes, the other marshal went in to check on him and that’s when he was killed. Agent Meade came out and aimed his gun at me, and that’s when I knew I had to run. If I didn’t, he would’ve killed me and Glory too.” Her voice was higher now, the words running together as she relived the fear and panic. “I acted on pure instinct. I scrambled into the front seat and gunned the engine. Took off as fast as I could. I got away clean—no bullet holes, like you said—but he’s still out there. Agent Meade. He’s armed and he’ll be looking for me, if he’s not already.”

  Jack did his best to soothe her and calm her down. “It’s okay, honey. You’re safe here with me.”

  Even as he said those words though, doubt seared through his system. He wasn’t a SEAL anymore. Physically he wasn’t where he used to be even a year prior, when his bad knee had finally sidelined him for good. His reflexes were slower now. He’d damned sure do what he could to keep Sam and his daughter safe, but he couldn’t help worrying if it would be enough. Her father obviously had spies everywhere, even in the US Marshal’s office, apparently.

  Jesus.

  And he’d called the cops on her. Stan Lewis was a good deputy and a good man—by the book, all the way. When he logged the accident, he’d enter the information into the system just like he was supposed to. But once he did, anyone with access to law enforcement databases—like, say, a US marshal on the take—would be able to access it. Soon, Sam’s location would be available to everyone, including the man who’d tried to kill her earlier tonight. Shit. It wasn’t like he’d done it on purpose or anything. He’d been trying to be a Good Samaritan, help a stranger in need. Except Sam was no stranger and now he’d inadvertently put her and their daughter in even more danger.

  His mind raced as he tried to strategize the best course of action from here. He’d call Stan as soon as they got home and see if he could talk him into holding off on running the registration a bit longer. After all, the deputy owed Jack a favor, considering he’d driven the deputy home one night after he’d had a bit too much to drink at the local pub a few months back. The guy’d been off duty at the time, but a DUI wouldn’t look good on his professional record anyway. That should buy them at least a little time. Rally was a small town and things took longer here, given it was a Saturday night, Jack would guess the cops were plenty busy as it was keeping the teenagers in line tonight. The deputy had all but said as much when Jack had called in the accident. They were short-staffed and overworked at present. Jack could work that to his advantage.

  Right. One problem down. Next, Sam and Glory needed supplies. He had food and shelter taken care of at his place, but they’d need clothes and baby stuff. Walmart to the rescue. First though, she needed some protective camouflage. No sense going through all the trouble of keeping her hidden if they were just going to walk right in and show her face on the security cameras. He got out and rummaged around in the back of the SUV, shoving aside the heavy sacks of cow feed to find an old hunting jacket and baseball cap he kept stashed there. Then he walked around to the passenger side and opened her door, scanning the area to make sure they hadn’t been followed. “Put these on.”

  “What?” she scrunched her nose at him. “Why?”

  “Because people are going to be looking for you, and I want you as unrecognizable as possible.”

  She blinked at him a moment, then took the things from him. “Are you sure you want to help me?”

  “Don’t have much choice now, do I?” He crossed his arms and kept a lookout while she put on the jacket and hat. Both were huge on her, but effectively hid her identity from the outside world. “I won’t let anyone hurt my daughter. And I promise to keep you safe as best I can. Now, keep your head down and get Glory out of the back. We’ve got some shopping to do.”

  6

  As she pushed the squeaky shopping cart around the enormous superstore, Jack by her side, Sam couldn’t shake the feeling this was all so surreal. If someone would’ve told her a week prior that the man who’d shared her bed for one incredible night a year earlier would swoop back into her life right when she needed him, she would’ve laughed in their face.

  Yet here they were, perusing the aisles for baby things—wet wipes, powder, no-tears shampoo and bodywash, diaper rash cream. Sam couldn’t contain a snort. Jack had been particularly interested in that last one, like diaper rash cream would save the world or something.

  He’d listened intently as she explained the difference between one with hydrocortisone versus one with calendula.

  “It all depends on the type of diaper rash the baby has,” Sam had said, kind of shocked that she’d become an expert in this stuff herself. Then again, long nights of anguished crying from her tiny baby would do that to a mother. “Some are caused by moisture, others are caused by chemicals in the diapers, and then there are rashes that are caused by yeast.”

  “Wow.” Jack’s eyes had widened slightly. “And here I thought it all had to do with keeping their bums clean.”

  “That’s a big part of it. Diapers are dark, moist places. Bacteria love it there.” At his grossed-out expression, she’d laughed. “Hey. Kids poop. Everybody poops. They even wrote a book about it. And babies, in particular, poop a lot. Their little intestinal tracts are like superhighways.”

  “Can we maybe talk ab
out something else?” Jack had asked, grabbing a huge package of disposable diapers off the shelf.

  Since then, conversation had waned. As they picked out jars of baby food, she noticed he kept sneaking glances at Glory. He seemed to be fascinated with her, every time she moved or made a noise. Sam could understand. She’d been that way too at first. Still was, most days. Despite the train wreck the rest of her life had become, thanks to her father, Glory was the one good thing she had. She loved her daughter more than anything else in the universe and she’d do anything to keep her safe.

  Even trekking through a Walmart on a Saturday night at 11 p.m., apparently.

  She did a quick look around to make sure they weren’t being watched, then took the stupid baseball hat off her head to scratch her scalp. She hated wearing disguises. They felt so creepy and weird, even if they were necessary right now.

  “What about beets?” Jack asked, nose wrinkled. “Does she like those?”

  “That would be a negative,” Sam said.

  “Good taste, kid.” He grinned at his daughter and put the tiny glass jar back on the shelf. Once they were loaded up with various pureed fruits and veggies and a box of instant baby cereal, they moved on to the clothing section. Pinks and blues and all manner of pastels spread out as far as the eye could see.

  Sam expected Jack to look out of place there—being a rough and tumble ex-SEAL—but the grin on his face was too adorable for words. She’d never expected him to find out about Glory, but now that he knew she was his, Sam couldn’t begrudge him all these first-time dad moments. “How about this?”

  He held up a tiny pink and yellow outfit with glitter-encrusted words on the front.

  “Daddy’s Little Girl?” Sam raised a brow, a pang of yearning going through her. If only it were true. If only they could stay here and form a permanent family unit. If only… But the truth was, she and Glory would be gone, moved on to the next safe house, just as soon as arrangements could be made. She shrugged. “It’s cute but looks too small. Try the next rack over.”