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The Gauntlet

Page 21

by Lindsay McKenna


  Cam appeared at the screen door dressed in his tan summer uniform. He walked in and smiled. “Looks like a tornado hit.”

  Molly smiled wearily in return and wiped her brow with the back of her hand. After two years of marriage, Cam still looked as handsome as ever, she thought. “It did. I didn’t realize how many boxes we had. I don’t know how they’re all going to fit into this apartment, Cam.”

  Hearing the lament in his wife’s voice, Cam threaded his way through the boxes to her side. He leaned down, placing a long, welcoming kiss upon her lips. “I love you,” he whispered, holding her against him, rocking her gently back and forth in his arms. “How do you feel?”

  “Sick as a dog. Nobody said pregnancy was fun, Sinclair.”

  “Do you regret it?”

  Molly looked up into his concerned blue eyes. “How could I? This baby was made out of the love we have for each other. I’ll suffer grandly in silence.”

  Cam smiled gently and pushed several strands of her blond hair away from her damp, flushed cheek. “I hate having to leave you here alone, angel.”

  She shrugged. “Duty calls, doesn’t it? The Navy sends you out on Far East carrier duty and me here to Miramar to work with the Top Guns.”

  The unhappiness in her voice tore at Cam. Molly was four months pregnant, and he was going on a cruise that would last five months. According to the Navy, the carrier wouldn’t be pulling back into port until two weeks after the baby was due. “I wish I could be here when she’s born,” he whispered thickly. “God, how I wish.”

  Molly held Cam tightly, burying her face in his shirtfront. Cam hadn’t been there when his son, Sean, had been born. In fact, having been stuck on carrier duty in the Mediterranean, he hadn’t even gotten to hold Sean for four months. “We’ve exhausted all means of trying to persuade the Navy to release you from duty a month early to come home,” she said, her voice muffled.

  “Sometimes,” Cam gritted out, kissing her hair, “I hate the military. This is one of those times. I don’t want you alone here, having our baby.”

  Molly smiled gently and eased away from him enough to meet his worried gaze. “Darling, Maggie and Dana are stationed at Miramar. At least my best friends will be with me. They’re as excited as I am. We’re a sisterhood. We’ll take my pregnancy and the birth in stride.” She touched his cheek. “At least Griff Turcotte will be with you. You’ll be in the same fighter squadron.”

  “Yeah,” Cam griped unhappily. “Misery loves company.”

  With a laugh, Molly agreed. “You two can sit out there on the carrier thinking about the wives back here who love you.”

  He sighed, genuinely worried. Since she had gotten pregnant, Molly had turned fragile, her skin translucent and her health more delicate. “Damn the Navy!” he whispered.

  “You mean,” Molly teased, wanting to pull him out of his worry for her, “you love me more than you love that lady you fly?”

  He grinned and released her. “I love you a hell of a lot more than that Tomcat I’m flying.” Catching her before she walked away, Cam sat down on one of the boxes and guided Molly to his lap. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and leaned against him. He steadied her with an arm around her waist, his other hand resting against her now swelling abdomen. “Can you feel her kick yet?”

  Molly shook her head. “The doctor said in about three more weeks, I’ll start to feel her move.” She covered his hand on her belly. “I can hardly wait, Cam. I’m so excited.” Molly pressed a kiss to his brow. “So happy.”

  Cam murmured her name and simply held her, enjoying the few minutes of quiet. He felt better knowing that both Maggie and Dana would be here to support and help her. A year ago Dana had gone from instructing at Pensacola into a new program where women were being taught to be combat fighter pilots. A year before that, Maggie Donovan had already paved the way for the initial trial program, becoming a full-fledged fighter pilot at Miramar. She now trained Top Gun candidates and was making quite a name for herself as a skilled pilot.

  “I got a call from Father this morning,” Molly said, sliding her hand across Cam’s chest, loving the feel of his muscles tensing beneath her fingertips.

  “Oh?”

  “He knows I’ve got to work at Miramar, but he’s going to take two weeks off and come out after you leave for duty—just to make sure I’m okay.” She laughed gently.

  Cam smiled, hugging her and running his hand gently across her belly. “He’s made a real turnaround. Now he’s the doting grandfather-to-be. I think Jason’s worse than I am in the worry department.”

  Chuckling, Molly hugged Cam fiercely and placed a hot, longing kiss on his strong, male mouth. “You’re the worrywart, Cameron Sinclair. I swear you’ve turned into one since you found out I was pregnant.” Lovingly, Molly caressed his cheek. “But I know why, and I understand. Don’t worry. I want your focus, your attention on those cat shots and landings on the carrier. If anything, I should be worried about you more!”

  Carrier duty was always dangerous, and Molly knew it as well as every other Navy-pilot wife. “All I want you to do,” Cam told her, “is stay on the ground, work with the instructors at Top Gun and get plenty of rest. No flying for you. No late nights. No worrying about me. That’s an order, Lieutenant. Understand?”

  Molly gave him a mock salute and laughed. “Yes, sir, Lieutenant Commander Sinclair. Over and out.” She slipped off his lap. “Come on, I’ve got to get supper on or you’ll starve to death.”

  Cam nodded and followed her to the kitchen. Here, most of the boxes were gone and there was a semblance of order. Molly never ceased to amaze him. She’d been happy with her work as a flight-test engineer for two years at Patuxent River. And when she got transferred to Miramar for ground duty as an instructor at Top Gun, she was very pleased. As he sat down at the table after pouring himself a cup of coffee, a fierce love for her welled up in him. “Which do you like more? Having a career or being a wife and mother-to-be?” he asked.

  Molly smiled and put the pot roast into a large pan. “Now, if you asked Maggie that, she’d rip your head off and accuse you of being a male chauvinist.”

  “But you aren’t Maggie.”

  “No.” Molly blew a few strands of hair out of her eyes. “I like both.”

  “What about Dana?”

  Smiling, Molly said, “I think she’s beginning to really enjoy being domesticated. At least she’s turning into a decent cook. As I’ve told you, when we went through Annapolis together, she couldn’t even boil water.”

  Cam sipped the coffee, his gaze lingering on Molly’s slightly curved belly. How he wished he could be here to watch her belly grow large with their daughter. Ultrasound last month had confirmed it was a girl, and Cam couldn’t be happier. “I think,” he murmured, “that after little Rachel Anne Sinclair is born, you’ll take to motherhood like a fish to water.”

  Cutting up the potatoes and placing them around the roast, Molly laughed. “Of the three of us, I’m by far the most domestic.”

  Cam knew that Molly had to finish out her six-year obligation to the Navy, children or not. She had four years to go, and he worried that her need to be with her daughter would be stronger than the call of her career. Then he caught himself and laughed. God, he worried a lot about unnecessary things.

  “What’s so funny?” Molly asked, placing the roast in the oven. She dried her hands on a towel and came around behind his chair. Placing her arms around Cam’s shoulders, she rested her head against his.

  Cam sat back, relishing Molly’s easy ability to share her love with him. He wrapped his hands around her slender arms and sank against her. “Just laughing at my ’worrywartitis.’”

  She kissed his neck. “It’s justified. You lost your last family. Old feelings of fear of losing us have got to be bothering you, Cam.”

  As always, Cam was amazed at Molly’s perceptiveness. “Yeah,” he admitted thickly. “That’s it.”

  “We’ll both be here in the pink of health when yo
u sail into San Diego Bay five months from now, darling. That’s a promise.”

  With a sigh, Cam nodded. “I love you so damn much, Molly. And Rachel… God, I want to see her face. I want to hold her already. I don’t even mind the late nights and early-morning feedings. I’m looking forward to all of those things. You two mean the world to me.”

  Pain for Cam’s fears touched Molly deeply. She kissed his cheek this time. “We’ll be here when you get back, jet jock. That’s a promise.”

  Cam’s hands tightened around her arms. Molly was strong in emotional ways that he never could be. As she nuzzled him, her lips searching for and finding his mouth, Cam brought her around the chair and into his lap. The afternoon was hot, the sunlight streaming brightly through the kitchen window. Outside, he could hear the jets taking off from nearby Miramar. All those sounds impinged very little on his heightened senses as Molly kissed him deeply, erasing his worries. Her love, Cam realized dimly as he hungrily returned her need of him, was strong enough for both of them. And always would be.

  * * * * *

  New York Times bestselling author

  LINDSAY McKENNA

  invites readers back to Jackson Hole, Wyoming for another thrilling suspense…

  Some things can never be forgotten. A helicopter crash in Afghanistan. Capture. Torture.

  She’s caught in her past until he showed her a future…

  Available November 25, 2014!

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  ISBN-13: 978-1-4603-4703-4

  The Gauntlet

  Copyright © 1991 by Lindsay McKenna

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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