SEAL of My Dreams
Page 39
Chris knew he wasn’t a lifer, but the teams had been good both to and for him.
The hospital was old with ancient looking equipment compared to what they had in Virginia and Germany. The sandstorm had blown through just after they’d arrived, trapping them there for hours. It was over now, but neither he nor Saint was crazy enough to drive around here in the dark unless it was absolutely necessary.
And unless there was a tank involved. He could definitely hot-wire a tank if he could find one.
“You all right?’ Saint’s Cajun drawl cut through the tension.
“Fucking fantastic,” Chris muttered.
There was silence for a long moment and then, “There’s a helo set to pick up some Deltas at 0400, about twenty miles from here. It’s our best bet.”
Chris glanced up at him. “Do they know we’re coming?”
“Reid says he’ll wait as long as they can.” Saint looked out the window. “A couple of Land Rovers out there look like they might make the trip.”
They would have to. Chris would make sure of it. “Well take it as far as it goes.”
The nightmare grabbed Jamie by the throat and refused to let go. It was six months ago and she was back outside the school, and PJ and Kevin were trapped inside by the man who’d made her life hell since she was little . . . they were trapped and she couldn’t help them. And Chris was nowhere to be found and she was completely panicked.
She woke with a start and grabbed her belly, as if to reassure herself that things on that front were fine. She hated that dream, more so because it was all real except for Chris being missing. He’d been the one to save them all that day and rescue her and PJ from a man who’d been trying to kill them their entire lives.
The man who’d adopted her and PJ, Kevin, had admitted that he’d been to blame for some of what had happened, indirectly, and while she and her sister had forgiven him, he still kept his distance, his guilt too great to overcome at the present time.
He’d come around eventually, she knew that. And she’d stop having nightly reminders of the past, too.
“You don’t need to be saved,” she said firmly, out loud, trying to convince herself. “Baby boy, we’ll be fine if you come out now. Daddy will be home soon.”
The baby gave a resounding kick and then promptly fell asleep.
“Great. Stubborn.” Why she should be surprised at that, she had no idea. She also wondered how long Chris had known about the fact that their baby was now in breech position and unlikely to move back at this late date, considering how big he was.
Which meant C-section. But she knew Chris could do miraculous things with babies—she’d seen some evidence of it firsthand, had listened to stories from Jake and Nick about how Chris worked magic, like he was channeling his midwife mother, Maggie or something.
“Help me out here, Maggie.” She put her hands on her belly, tried to imagine the baby turning, but the little one seemed determined to sleep.
It was two days until Christmas. For the first time since Maggie died, there was a tree in the house. Nick had dragged it inside by himself, grumbling the entire time but it was a perfect fit.
It remained undecorated—that would be up to her and Izzy and Kaylee, Nick informed her darkly. But didn’t seem all that displeased overall.
Now, she got up, the baby sleeping and her still restless and unsettled from seeing her past played out in her nightly dreams. She wished she could blame the nightmares on not knowing where Chris was, but really, it was more her problem than any deployment or mission he was on.
Every deployed spouse or family member had the same worries, no matter the brave face they put on. Jamie had come into a ready-made family with four military personnel to worry about.
Her sister, PJ, was engaged to Chris’s CO, Saint. Isabelle and Jake married months earlier and Kaylee and Nick would no doubt just show up one day married. For now, they were happily discussing adoption and Chris told her he’d never seen either brother so happy.
PJ took a job piloting private jets for private contractors—it kept her in just enough danger to satisfy her and not enough to make Saint drag her home and chain her to the couch.
Jamie smiled, because she was guessing Chris felt the same about her. Desk work wasn’t exciting, but she could still help people by getting them comfortable with the process of witness protection before they were turned over to the US Marshals. After the baby was born, she’d continue that way because Chris’s job was enough danger for one small baby.
Chris had been away for a lot of her pregnancy. They Skyped whenever possible but she’d known the nature of his job as a SEAL even before she’d met him. She was part of the FBI and had spent the majority of her life in Witness Protection as well, up until several months earlier. She wasn’t a wuss by any means.
They’d fought about that very thing right before he’d gone away this last time, about how they both couldn’t be in the line of fire. She knew he was right. Having grown up in danger, she knew that better than anyone. But being told what to do was never her style. It made her bristle. She thought Chris knew that, but since all of this happened, it had been tough settling back into normal for all of them.
None of them had ever really had it. PJ seemed to be handling it the best of all of them, relishing in having a place of her own. Well, Saint’s own, but he didn’t care what PJ did as long as she remained happy.
And it appeared she reciprocated the favor to Saint, because according to Chris, the big, Louisiana born and bred CO hadn’t been this happy ever.
Neither had she, but it was hard not to be when surrounded by love and heroes.
Chapter Three
There was no radio in the car but that didn’t stop Chris from singing “Rock of Ages” not as loudly as he would’ve liked to out of respect for Saint and the fact that they couldn’t afford to draw any extra attention to themselves.
He was so tense that his entire body ached and he wouldn’t relax until he touched down in Virginia.
You’re gonna have a kid—no more relaxing for you, anyway.
They’d made it twenty miles along precarious roads before the car started breaking down.
“Come on, come on,” he muttered, ran his hands along the steering wheel like he could cajole it into staying alive.
Didn’t work. After another several miles and a sputtering, smoking engine, the Land Rover finally gave up the ghost.
“Not like we didn’t expect it,” Saint said. “On foot.”
The two of them were out of the jacked up Land Rover and moving stealthily and fast along the side of the road, just out of view.
They could attempt to hitch, but in these early morning hours before the light of day, trusting any random vehicle along the way to get them there faster would be risky as hell.
The hit of his boots against the soft dust was the rhythm in his head for the next four miles. He’d had harder runs, with heavier gear and more danger but none of them meant anything close to what this one did.
He didn’t care about the sweat or the fact that his stitches stopped holding somewhere along mile two. Saint pushed him along at one point when Chris got lightheaded and then he got a second wind.
But they both stopped dead in their tracks when they heard the familiar rat-tat-tat of AK fire.
“That’s near the LZ,” Saint cursed, checked the SAT phone. “Battery’s dead.”
Chris listened for any other sounds over the din. “Which way would Reid go if this started?”
And then he answered his own question like he knew it to be the truth. “North. There’s room for the helo.”
“The soldiers being there is just dumb luck.”
“For our sake, hope there’s a lot of that going around.” As he finished, Saint was already headed back out to the road.
“Come on, man!” he called and in seconds, Chris was scrambling into the back of a truck that barely slowed to let them on board.
Didn’t matter—they were traveling in the r
ight direction and away from the gunfire.
Didn’t matter even when he heard the squawking as the sounds of shots receded, turned to discover they were riding with the chicken cages. It was crowded and it stank and Chris didn’t care. Saint did, muttered the entire next few miles that Chris and his child were going to owe him. That Jake and Nick already did, owed him more than any human could possibly hope to payback but Saint would make sure they did.
“We’re not stopping on this next stretch of road,” the passenger called back to them a little while later.
“We’ve got to get off here,” Saint said after they’d gone a decently quick five miles. Hell, they’d jumped from higher into worse and Chris followed Saint as they jumped and rolled away before they could be spotted by other cars.
“Six klicks,” Saint confirmed and they went down the hill and into the jungle until they finally hit a clearing big enough for a helo to land, which it had. The big bird sat silently and Chris sighed thankfully as he and Saint made their way toward it, signaling the pilot they were the men he’d been waiting for.
They boarded and the pilot started the engines. Take off would be quick and dirty and they headed toward the back before they were thrown.
“Maybe we have to start giving the SEALs more credit,” Reid called, his drawl apparent even as he yelled over the roar of the helo.
Chris shot him the finger and hunkered down on the floor to check out how much blood he was losing. It was freezing but he stripped down and let Delta’s medic deal with it while he slept or passed out or some combination of the two.
When he opened his eyes, it was time to refuel.
“Phone?” he croaked.
“Dude, you have an infection,” the medic told him.
“Dude, I need the phone.”
Saint handed him one as the medic frowned and Chris dialed Jake’s number.
“Dude, where the hell are you? Because your wife pregnant is scarier than Saint,” Jake said in lieu of hello.
“Tell him I heard that,” Saint barked. “Comparing me to a pregnant woman.”
“Is she all right?” Chris asked, ignoring them both. “I’m six hours out.”
“She’s hanging in. Worried. A storm’s coming through.” Jake paused. “You hurt?”
“A little. I’ll be fine by the time I get there. Just keep her calm.”
“We’re all here for her, man. Just get your ass home safely.”
“Tell her—”
“I know what to tell her. Don’t get all goddamned sappy with me,” Jake said before hanging up, right on time, too, because the roar of the engine started a second later.
Chris handed Saint back the phone and let the medic do his thing with IVs and antibiotics. Slept a little and woke himself up when he realized he was dreaming about that night at the school when he killed a man to save PJ—and ultimately, Jamie. Because although he harbored no guilt over taking out a criminal, the scars Jamie would bear from the entire ordeal would never leave her. He could only hope to lessen them with time.
Chapter Four
Jake hung up with Chris and paced until Isabelle’s car pulled into the driveway maybe ten minutes later. He was out the door in seconds, because that smile, that fucking smile of hers lit him up from the inside.
She hugged him tight, like she was saying, I’ll never let you go.
She wouldn’t, he was sure of it. And neither would he.
“Missed you,” she murmured against his neck. “Traffic was horrible.”
“I offered to come get you.”
“You couldn’t land.”
“Climbing the rope’s not that hard. I would’ve helped,” he chided lightly.
“The scary part is, I know you’re completely serious.” She threaded her hand in his. “How’s Jamie?”
“Freaked out and trying not to show it.” He let go of her so he could grab her bags. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”
“Wait. I have something to tell you—about Africa.” The memories that country brought back flooded his mind, some good, some painful. She’d been back to Africa for Doctors Without Borders once since they’d married. And it had been with him.
She’d agreed, since they really didn’t want to spend any more time apart than his job allowed, and they were going back again next year. Together.
He kept his voice neutral “What’s up?”
“We might have to cancel.”
“Why? What’s wrong?” he demanded, his hands on her like he could feel what the problem was. But she took his wrists and put his palms on her belly.
It took him about five seconds to catch on. He breathed in sharply and then again because he felt a little dizzy. And then he met her eyes and Isabelle’s floodgates opened.
“I had no idea. I’m three months along and it’s twins. Girls. Never had them in my family and your know I’m on the pill . . . ”
“Hold up.” Jake stared at her, one hand reaching up to brush away a few stray tears. And this was a woman who rarely cried. “Twin girls?”
“Yes.”
“Are they sure?”
“Pretty sure, yes.”
“God help me,” he muttered as the earth shifted beneath his feet.
“Jake, I’m really freaked out.”
Join the club, baby. But before he could stop it, a huge smile spread over his face. “We’re going to be fine. We’ve handled so much worse than this. This is the good stuff—and we deserve it.”
He hugged her and her arms threaded around his shoulders—she was laughing, relief evident in her voice. “You’re not upset—really?”
“Not at all.” He kissed her as the snow started to fall around them, until all he wanted to do was get her alone. Picked her up as she protested, carried her through the house and up to the second floor, because he could tell his brothers and Jamie later.
But right now, it was just for the two of them.
“Storm’s coming,” Kenny murmured to himself as he looked up at the night sky and tried not to connect with Chris. It was too hard on both of them, especially when his son was deployed.
The psychic Cajun bullshit, as Jake deemed it years ago, came in handy at times. This was not one of them.
All the missions Chris went on were important, but this one . . . it made Kenny’s heart heavy. He wasn’t sure if it was the time of year or the impending birth but dammit, his son needed to be here, for so many reasons.
“Maggie, you’ve got to help them,” he said quietly. “Have to help me, too.”
The wound of her loss was still so fresh. Watching his sons find the loves of their lives brought him more comfort than he’d ever hoped to have.
“The baby’s breech,” Jamie said softly from behind him. “I just came from an ultrasound. Maybe I should—”
“Give him time,” Kenny told her, turning to put his arm around her shoulder. “Nothing’s going to happen to that bebe.”
She smiled when he slipped into Cajun cadence.
“Chris was breech—shouldn’t be surprised,” Kenny continued. “Maggie and her momma, they fixed it all good.”
He didn’t tell her that Maggie nearly died giving birth. Obviously, Chris had wisely chosen to spare Jamie that information as well.
But Jamie was insistent on a home birth, wanted Chris to deliver the baby. He’d tried to steer her toward a hospital birth without scaring her, but she would not be deterred.
Of course, that was before the baby was breech. Now, he knew he would have to convince her to get to the hospital at the first signs of labor if his son didn’t arrive in time.
Jamie and Kenny ended up sitting in the kitchen for a while—he heated her up some of the gumbo he’d made earlier, which she loved, and being connected to Chris like this made everything all right for that little while.
“Hey, anyone here?” PJ called after letting herself into the house.
“Kitchen!” Jamie called back.
Her sister walked in and dumped her bag before hugging both he
r and Kenny. “I brought extra clothes, because I don’t think I should leave you during the storm.”
“Good idea,” Kenny told her. “We have plenty of room.”
“Hopefully you have a lot of food, too,” Kaylee said as she walked into the room, Nick behind her, holding onto her hand.
“Always,” Kenny said as he hugged her too. And then Jake came in, with Izzy by his side and yes, the house was filling up. It wasn’t exactly a typical Christmas, but hers growing up had always been fairly quiet.
PJ looked at Jake. “Have you heard anything?”
“They’re on their way home, I think.”
“What does that mean?”
“He and Saint left the hospital -”
“Why were they in the hospital?” Jamie and PJ demanded in unison.
“And they’re fine,” Jake finished.
“Because you say so?” Jamie asked.
“Yes,” Jake said coolly.
“Can we get back to the hospital thing?” PJ prompted.
“No. I’ve said too much already.”
“Now what?”
“You were in the military, so you should recognize this part. We wait.”
PJ snorted. Jamie felt her belly tighten into what she hoped was only one of those Braxton Hicks contractions. “I’m going to go lay down for a while.”
“You okay?” PJ asked and Jamie nodded, avoiding Kenny’s face. She didn’t want to upset him any more than he already was, and so she went into the rooms she and Chris had been using on the first floor, more like a private suite with a living area and separate bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed and lifted her legs a little so she could stare at her swollen feet.
She’d done research on the Internet about how to turn the baby naturally—there were several techniques, including acupuncture—and she’d try any of them.
They’re on their way home, I think.
Chapter Five
Jamie couldn’t sleep hours later, found herself pacing restlessly as if on guard. It had started to snow hours before and it was a heavy, blanketing blizzard with diagonal icy hail that scratched the windows and rattled the house with its fierce winds.