by Lilian Darcy
But damn, he’d never expected this. Not in a million years. Conflicting feelings roiled in him. He had to do the right thing, whatever that was, but a baby? A son? Nothing had prepared him for that, and right now he felt like a fish utterly out of water, a feeling he wasn’t at all used to.
There would have to be some adjustments, of course. He knew that for sure. Support. Visitation. He wasn’t going to remove himself from the life of a child he had helped create. No way. But how much would Edie allow? How good would he be? Shouldn’t a guy have some time to answer these questions before discovering that he had four months before the new arrival?
Well, he’d done a stupid thing, and now it had caught up with him. No input any longer about whether, now it was only how and how much. Choices had narrowed because of the reality of a new life.
He quietly returned to the kitchen to put the glass of milk in the refrigerator. “She’s napping.”
He should have guessed he would get cornered.
“What are you going to do?” Marge demanded.
“The right thing, Mom.”
“I hope you do more than that.”
Nate interrupted. “Marge, sometimes you start at the right thing because it’s the only place to start.”
Marge tightened her mouth. “I can’t believe you got that girl pregnant.”
“I’m no saint, Mom. The SEALs don’t make saints.”
She shook her head while her husband frowned at her. “That’s not an issue anymore, Marge. Let it go.”
“How can I let it go? Everything in Seth’s life turned into a mess. I can understand Darlene. He warned her she wouldn’t be able to take it. But Maria, too? Why do things keep going wrong?”
“She couldn’t help being killed in an auto accident,” Seth said tautly. “And frankly, I don’t like being reminded of just how painful that was. Right now there’s only one thing I’m concerned about.”
He slid onto a bar stool beside his father and stared at his mother. “You don’t know what it’s like out there, and I hope you never know. But sometimes things happen. Fueled by adrenaline. Fueled by a relief that you’re still alive. Edie pulled my butt out of the fire, I went to thank her, and...well, here we are. That’s enough. We’re here.”
“We certainly are,” Marge said tartly. “And you had better do the right thing because I don’t want to lose a grandchild.”
“And I don’t want to lose a son. Maybe the only one I’ll ever have. But how much of a part I’ll have in his life is up to Edie. You need to understand that. This is first and foremost about Edie and the baby. I’ve messed her up enough already.”
“We shouldn’t talk about a baby as if it’s a mess.”
“Oh, boy,” Nate said quietly beside him.
Seth felt anger start to surge. “You think not? I messed up her life. Her career. She had goals and all that’s changed because she’s pregnant. They’re going to reassign her, maybe to training, maybe to a desk, but either way her dreams of rising high are gone now. The military might have accepted women in combat roles, but they’re far from accepting the limitations on a woman who won’t give up her baby or give it into someone else’s care. She’s refusing to do either.”
“Well, of course! Giving up a baby...” Marge trailed off.
All of a sudden Seth understood what was going on here. Marge was reliving giving him up, trying to rewrite her own perceived mistake by fighting for this baby. That was going to make this hell. Not just one woman’s problems and a baby’s needs, but his mother’s need to correct a wrong in her own past.
He looked at his father and saw the understanding there. “Maybe I should have Edie stay at my place.”
“Mebbe so,” Nate said. “Mebbe so.”
“She’s welcome here,” Marge argued.
“She’s already told me she wants no pressuring and no arm-twisting. Are you going to be able to promise that, Mom?”
Marge stared at him, then suddenly sagged against the counter and closed her eyes. The kitchen was filling with the savory aroma of roasting chicken. A minute or two ticked by in silence before she spoke again. “I’m sorry, I’m not helping at all.”
Nate rose and went to embrace his wife. “It’s all right, honey. It’s all right.”
“It’s okay, Mom.” Seth said. “Times have changed. Edie has options you didn’t, and because of that, so have I. Just let us work it out in the way that’s best for both of us.”
Marge nodded, her cheek against her husband’s shoulder. She looked at her son. “It’s just that I was so glad you came back to us. I’ll never forget the joy and relief.”
“And the mess.” Seth gave her a crooked smile. “I messed up your life twice. So yes, a baby can be a mess until everything’s sorted out.”
At that Marge gave him a wan smile. “I guess so.”
He rose and returned to the living room, settling in to watch Edie sleep and to think about the grenade that had been tossed his way. He needed to get used to this baby idea, and quickly. Time was wasting.
Chapter Three
Edie awoke from a dream in which her Pave Hawk was crashing into a large body of water. The sound of her name startled her, and she snapped her eyes open. Seth.
He leaned over her. “Dinner will be ready soon.”
She knew one thing instantly. “I need a bathroom.”
“I’ll show you.”
It was an urgent need, becoming more frequent as her pregnancy progressed. She had learned to go before napping or sleeping, but she’d forgotten this time. Not that she had expected to doze off on the couch.
She rose quickly. Apparently Seth sensed the strength of her need, because he led the way quickly down a hall and waved her into a small bathroom. “Take your time.”
Time? What time? All of a sudden the cammies seemed cumbersome, too much material because they were too big. She struggled to get the shirt out of the way and reach the button on her pants. Damn!
When she was done, she paused before straightening her clothes and looked at her profile in the mirror, running her hands over her growing “baby bump.” Smooth, not too big yet, although she was assured that was about to rapidly change. “Carrying high,” one of her friends had termed it, meaning, she guessed, that she wasn’t expanding outward much yet.
But her waist had certainly vanished. The changes could still catch her by surprise.
Quickly she buttoned her pants and tugged the voluminous shirt down. In the mirror she saw a woman with red hair and blue eyes, who looked tired and a little messy. Hell, she didn’t even have a comb handy. Everything was out in the car.
She ran her fingers through her short hair and tried to make it lie down. A bit of water helped.
And that, she thought, looking at herself, was about all she was going to be able to do. Not inspection-ready, but looking more like she’d just finished a mission.
Oh, well.
Seth was waiting in the hall, leaning his shoulder against the wall, his arms folded. He smiled a little when he saw her. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
“They don’t bite, and I pretty much told Mom to lay off. I hope you like roast chicken, mashed potatoes and mixed vegetables.”
“Why wouldn’t I? Did you get to be picky about food?”
“Not since I joined the navy.”
“Exactly.”
They shared a laugh, not something she was sure she really wanted to do, but it happened. Truce time. Not that there had been a war. Yet.
Dinner was surprisingly relaxed after all that had come before. Nate regaled them with some funny stories from his years as sheriff, keeping the mood light and pressure-free.
When Edie commented on all the hand drawn and colored turkeys on the wall, Marge explained she had kept all her
daughters’ drawings, and put these up every year in the autumn.
“I also have their Halloween drawings, but those are in the den, if you want to see them. And then after Thanksgiving, I bring out the Christmas drawings.” Marge beamed.
“Six girls make an awful lot of drawings,” Nate remarked. He winked at his wife, who laughed.
“Boxes of them,” she agreed. “It’s a good thing we have a big attic.”
“And enough wall space to put them on,” Nate drawled.
Seth spoke. “But think of all the wallpapering you’ve escaped.”
The three of them all laughed.
Edie was charmed despite herself. She had an unexpected image of keeping a trunk full of such things from her own child. This was the first time she had even dared to look that far down the road of motherhood.
Edie offered to help with dishes afterward, but Marge shooed her out, and Nate remained to help.
Once again, the offer of a room was made. She wasn’t ready to accept it, though, so she left it by saying, “I’ll think about it.”
“I should warn you,” Seth said as he followed her back to the living room, “that the only motel we have in this town would make Bagram look like the Ritz. You don’t want to try to drive back tonight.”
No, she didn’t, but she was unwilling to commit to even a night. At least he didn’t press her. Indeed, he seemed to be working very hard not to press her in any way.
Something to be grateful for. In fact, maybe there was a whole lot to be grateful for.
She settled again on the sofa and put her feet up. “Are you sure you don’t want to take those boots off?” he asked.
She just knew that if she took them off she wouldn’t get them back on tonight. The question was whether she wanted to risk walking out of here barefoot. The answer was no. Experience had taught her to keep her boots on unless she was safely at home.
He sat facing her again, this time with his elbows on his splayed knees. Relaxed, yet not. For a moment she wished she could just close her eyes and fall back to sleep. Dinner had given her a sense of contentment that was rapidly vanishing. Tension steadily crept into the air.
“Tell me about it,” he said quietly. “How you found out, how you felt.”
“That’s huge.”
“Take your time. I’d like to know.”
She hesitated, then said bluntly, “I think I knew at some level right away.”
“Really?”
“Well, I always used to finish off a mission with a meal and a couple of drinks. I never drank again after that night. I told myself it was because I needed to stay out of any more trouble.”
“That would make sense.” He stirred a little, but his gaze never wavered. “I also suspect you guessed. I’ve heard my sisters say they knew almost to the moment, before they were even sure.”
“Well, maybe something happens fast. I don’t know. I just lost all desire to wind down with a drink.” She shrugged her shoulder. “Whatever. When I missed my period, I thought it was stress. But I knew, Seth. Somehow I knew. I did a great job of denial.”
“I can imagine.”
He probably could. Only she hadn’t given him the opportunity to do that. He waited, and finally she decided to tell him more.
“When I missed my second period, I felt like I’d been hit over the head. I couldn’t deny it anymore. I wanted to ignore it, but...well, even as I was getting mad, and having wild urges to run away from reality, I couldn’t ignore it. Even when I couldn’t stand the thought I felt like I had to do what was right for the kid. That meant seeing the doc.”
She closed her eyes briefly. “I can’t explain. I was seriously mixed up for a while, bouncing between fury and despair. I was taking prenatal vitamins and trying to tell myself it wasn’t true. I look back at it and hate myself.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s not me. I don’t run from things. I deal with them.”
“Blame it on shock.”
“Yeah.” She gave an unsteady laugh. “I was still in shock when they grounded me and sent me home. I could have still done the job, you know.”
“I’m sure you could have.”
Again her hand came to rest on her swelling belly. “What’s best for the kid. That stress wouldn’t have been good.”
“It really shook up your life.”
“Top to bottom.” No point in denying it. “Everything changed, and it changed fast. Well, except for the emotional roller coaster. And the morning sickness. It took a while for that to pass.”
“Was it bad?”
“Awful, for a while. And you might as well paint it on a billboard when you show up for duty every morning with soda crackers.”
At that he smiled faintly. “Oops.”
“Yeah.” She shook the tension from her shoulders. “I needed a while to face it all. I kept looking for ways to get around it. Ways I could manage my career and a kid. The two aren’t going to mesh well.”
She looked beyond him, into the past, knowing she was minimizing the turmoil she’d endured as she adjusted. “I felt betrayed,” she admitted. “Not by you, but by my body. God, how many women get pregnant from one time, when a condom is being used? The doc wasn’t sympathetic to that argument. He just said flatly, ‘It happens. Condoms aren’t failure-proof.’ He said next time I should be on the pill.” She shook her head. “Next time? There wasn’t even supposed to be a first time.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No. Don’t even go there. I’m a grown woman. I did something I knew damn well I shouldn’t have. That I’d never done before because I didn’t want to submarine my career. I know it caused some talk about me that I didn’t ever go with a man, but I didn’t care. It was better than what they’d say if I dated the wrong man. Besides, I didn’t want any messes.”
“And I handed you one of the biggest of all.” He looked annoyed again.
“Hey, it took two of us, and I don’t remember protesting.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “At least let me own my share of the blame. It did take the two of us.”
She didn’t say anything, but looked down at her hands resting on her tummy. He drew her too strongly. Getting away from him might be the only smart thing she could do now. But the baby...
She sighed. “But back to the saga. I argued for a while that I could do my job. I believed it, too. Except they were right and after they grounded me, even I could get it. I’d be up there with something to consider besides my job. I could put a lot of people at risk worrying about the baby. And, frankly, I don’t think I was emotionally stable. Not then, maybe not now.”
“What do you mean?”
“I woke up every morning hoping I’d find out I’d been dreaming. Wishing doesn’t make it so. Plus, I started taking things harder. Closer to tears. Closer to anger. My judgment was affected by my emotions. It’s good they grounded me.” He looked so damn sympathetic that she glanced away. “Regardless, after a lot of arguing with myself, I started planning a different future. Then it occurred to me that it wasn’t right not to tell you.”
“That must have thrilled you.”
“Not exactly. But in the end it all comes down to one thing, and it will from here on out—what is best for this baby. It’s a major adjustment. I don’t expect you to make it quickly or easily. You don’t even have to make it at all. But once I got my priorities straight, stressful as it was, things got clearer. Not easier, but clearer.”
He nodded. “I can see that.”
She fell silent, looking down at her hands clasped over her belly. “I’ve had a lot of time to work this through. You deserve some time, too. I should leave and give you space.”
“Quit trying to hightail it, Edie. My role in all that’s coming is better decided by the two of us together. Yo
u can walk out and take it all on your shoulders, but what decisions can I make without talking to you? Not very many. I’m not going to pretend it wasn’t a shock. It was. But now I have to deal with it, too.”
When she didn’t speak, he continued.
“We may not have gotten here in the most responsible, thoughtful, well-considered way, but that doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is what we do now. And that’s something that has to be discussed. From now on, we’re linked by a life we created. How we handle that link is everything.”
“I’ve thought about that,” she replied quietly.
“I’m sure you have. Now I have to think about it. I’m sure you’ve considered how to reshape your life, and I’m equally certain that picture didn’t have me in it. Well, now I’m in it, and I’m not walking out of it.”
Everything had grown more complicated. But had she honestly believed she was going to walk out of here with nothing changed? Had she truthfully believed that he’d offer child support or something and then dismiss her? Forget about it?
But she didn’t really know Seth Hardin, and that was a big problem. She knew next to nothing about the kind of person he was out of uniform and she needed to know that before she made any decisions about how little or how much he could have to do with her child. Their child.
God, how stupid could she be? Just come out and make the announcement because it was the right thing to do? Then go back like nothing had happened? Had she really convinced herself of that?
Or had something else been going on?
Damned if she knew. Damn.
“I don’t know you,” she said.
“I don’t really know you, either. That’s our first hurdle. We can’t really decide anything until we get to know each other a little better. Yes, you could go back to duty and I could just write a check once a month, but I won’t be satisfied with that. Not unless I’m convinced there’s no other way.”