They’d both changed. For her, life had gone on. For him, it had been put on hold. He remembered every detail of their night together as if it were yesterday, which didn’t mean he could just pick up where he’d left off. Where they’d left off.
Time had created an unbreachable distance.
“You arranged the late bird this morning,” he said with resignation. “If you didn’t want me here, why the invite?”
“I didn’t invite you. In fact I tried to uninvite you, but you’re a hard man to track down.”
“I see.” He compressed his lips. That solved the mystery of the phone call.
Pity shone in her eyes. “You don’t see at all.”
But he knew a see-you-around-sucker when he heard one. Not that that was possible. Every time his team needed a ride she’d be there. He held her gaze until she dropped his.
“See you around, Han.” He’d be damned if he’d let her say it first. He’d already set aside his pride to come here today. He had nothing left to give. Shoving the watch into his pocket, he turned his back on her and everything they might have had together. Who was he kidding, they’d never had a chance.
“Mike, wait! Please…”
His hands stilled in the automatic action of putting on his cover and he brought it back down to his side. Turning back around, he wished his heart hadn’t taken that leap when she’d called his name. Because right now it was stuck somewhere in his throat.
“You didn’t make me any promises you didn’t keep. Let’s just leave it at that, okay?”
Her admission wasn’t much of a consolation prize. But he offered a curt nod. “For what it’s worth, I know I blew it.”
Her eyes softened to the color of moss after a midday shower in the jungles of the P.I. He knew because he’d spent six months of the past year making that direct comparison. It beat the hell out of counting blood-thirsty mosquitoes taking bites out of his thick hide.
For the first time since he’d approached her, she let her guard down and uncrossed her arms. “Mike, there’s something—”
Whatever Hannah had been about to say she kept to herself. Checking over his shoulder, he discovered an older woman had intruded on their moment. Midfifties. Trim figure. Designer pantsuit, all white. Salon-enhanced red hair.
Hannah’s mother?
The approaching woman clung to a tri-folded flag. No red showed, in reverence to the blood shed. Mike had seen more than enough of that symbol in the past few months to last a lifetime. He wouldn’t be standing here in this awkward silence if his Choker Whites hadn’t been stained by a young widow’s tears three months ago.
Hannah had never mentioned having a father who’d died in service to his country. Come to think of it, Hannah had never mentioned a father. Or a family. He knew every curve of her body, but he didn’t really know her at all.
“Hannah,” the woman called out, “they’re waiting for you over at the Officers’ Club.”
“Be right there, Mother. Just give me a moment—”
But Hannah’s mother wasn’t about to be dismissed that easily. She drew even with him and smiled. “You’re welcome to join us, Commander,” she correctly identified him by rank. “Is that a Navy SEAL Trident…” Her gaze swept over his budwiser and the ribbons on his chest that proved he led his team from the front lines and not behind a desk. Which was the only reason he could face those widows at all. Her smile faded as she settled on his name tag. “Commander McCaffrey?”
“The Mike McCaffrey? Navy SEAL extraordinaire?” The query came from a younger woman. Shorter, chubbier, more blond than redheaded and pushing a baby stroller. “Commander of SEAL Team Eleven? The team that drills with my sister’s squadron every year in Fallon, Nevada? The same Mike McCaffrey who drove my sister to the airport in Reno last summer—”
“Enough, Sam.” Hannah cut her off with a look. Mike didn’t know what that look meant. Only that he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of it.
The sister turned wide green eyes on Hannah. A Stanton trademark if he wasn’t mistaken.
“I see my reputation precedes me.” He raised an eyebrow in question. He’d driven Hannah to the airport, but she’d been bumped from the flight. From there they’d checked into a hotel suite and gambled with their friendship—a lose/lose proposition at best. One he couldn’t regret. But whatever her family thought they knew about him, it wasn’t good.
“All bad,” Hannah assured him.
No doubt.
He felt an urgent need to break the ice with a better first impression. “How about introductions?” he insisted, tucking his cover under his arm.
True to form, Hannah gave in to his request with the grace of good manners. “Commander…my mother, Rosemary Stanton.”
“Ma’am.” He extended his hand.
Her mother didn’t.
“Samantha, Hannah’s sister,” the sister latched on to his hand, “her younger, recently single sister. Should I call you Mac or Mike, Commander?” She pumped his arm as she pumped him for information, but it would have been hard not to notice the mother’s cool reception. The simple fact that they even knew his name should have told him something. He’d hurt Hannah. Of course he’d chosen that route as being the least complicated.
“It’s Mac.” He smiled anyway. “Mike gets confusing in the field.”
“Mike is the phonetic letter M,” Hannah offered the explanation.
He had his own. She’d called out Mike, not Mac or McCaffrey when he’d come inside her, and she’d called out Mike just a few minutes ago.
“So, Mac,” the sister said, “are there any more like you at home?”
“As you can see, I’m one of a kind.” He managed to extract his hand while evading her real question. He had a brother. Not to mention four sisters.
Hannah’s sister assessed him with the same openness as in her demeanor. She had a pretty face and generous curves beneath a gauzy summer dress. She also had a kid and no wedding band. She’d said she was recently single.
Divorced? Widowed? In his experience widows wore their rings a lot longer than recently. But anything was possible. The flag her mother carried could belong to her. Samantha Stanton seemed to expect something from him, and it wasn’t his shoulder.
He glanced at the stroller. The sleeping rug rat squirmed, scrunching its face until it turned cherry red. He recognized that look thanks to his half-dozen nieces and nephews, glad that was one diaper he didn’t have to change. Three of his four sisters were married, two with kids. The youngest, Meg was still single. So was their brother, Buddy. But while they all shared the same gene pool, Buddy had that something extra that made him special.
Of course, every mother thought her kid was special. “Cute kid.” It was the right thing to say.
Samantha Stanton beamed at him. “Do you like children, Commander?”
“Mac,” he reminded her. “Sure.” He shrugged. “As long as they’re somebody else’s.”
CHAPTER THREE
“EXCUSE ME, I have a cake to cut.” Hannah left McCaffrey and her family, but especially Mac, to make of her exit what they would. She had to get away before she did or said something she might regret.
He liked kids as long as they’re somebody else’s. What else had she expected?
“Hannah! Hannah, wait up.” Sammy pushed the stroller at a slight jog to keep up with Hannah’s military stride. “He didn’t mean anything by it. He thinks—”
Hannah stopped short, turning on her sister. “I know what he thinks, Sam. Excuse me, Samantha,” she corrected.
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, come on, Sammy, you’ve never gone by Samantha a day in your life! What’s with you? Flirting with Fallon’s father. Pretending to be her mother—”
“I never did any of that. He just assumed.”
Hannah took a deep breath, deep enough for the flush of anger and jealousy to fade just a little. She was only picking a fight with her sister because she wanted to go fifteen rounds with Mac.
“I know, I’m sorry.” Hannah glanced toward McCaffrey, who was still talking to her mother. His assumptions played into Hannah’s deepest fears—that in the end it would be Sammy raising their daughter. “Have I told you today how much I love and appreciate you?”
“Don’t go getting all mushy on me now.”
“I know I don’t say it often enough.”
“Forget it,” Sammy said. “I know you’re upset. And I didn’t help any by playing devil’s advocate.”
“You’re not the only one.” Hannah nodded toward their mother. A few minutes ago she’d snubbed McCaffrey, now they were engaged in animated conversation. “What in the world do you suppose they have to talk about?”
“The weather?”
“Funny.”
“Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe,” Sammy said with real regret. “You and Mom are cut from the same cloth. Neither of you would ever air your dirty laundry in public.”
Hannah returned her full attention to her sister. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means Mom’s going to keep mum. I think she invented the term soldier on. And you…I don’t know why you ever left active duty for the reserves in the first place. The uniform suits you. You button up all your emotions inside that white jacket, and they reward you for it with those ribbons worn in place of your heart.”
“I’m not emotionless,” Hannah denied. “I just keep my feelings to myself. Do you honestly think I don’t feel anything?”
“Then you deserve a Purple Heart. Because if you’re bleeding, nobody knows it. Least of all him.”
“It doesn’t matter. McCaffrey means nothing to me. Less than nothing,” she emphasized. “A one-night stand with a military man. How much more cliché can it get?”
Although, technically, she’d known him for more than one night. Well enough to know he didn’t want children. Just the same it hurt to hear him say it out loud.
“Nothing?” her sister asked over the stroller she rocked back and forth.
Hannah stole a glance at her daughter. She’d dressed Fallon in a cute pink sailor dress and hat for the festivities. Her eyes were still shut tight. Otherwise McCaffrey would have seen how much they looked like his own. “Okay, so maybe he meant something to me once. But from now on he’s just the sperm donor.”
“You have to tell him. If you’ve been waiting for the right opportunity—”
“That opportunity has long since passed. It would be different if I were still a civilian. But no good can come from telling him now. Or anyone else for that matter.”
This was another one of those gray areas.
She’d be better off letting her military co-workers believe, as most of her civilian co-workers did, that she was a thirty-three-year-old woman tired of waiting for Mr. Right, so she’d decided to have a baby on her own. Somehow it seemed more acceptable than the truth.
She’d made a mistake. She’d taken responsibility. She didn’t need McCaffrey to do his duty. Because the truth was she was a thirty-three-year-old woman who’d given up on finding Mr. Right a long time ago. Which didn’t mean she was going to settle for Commander Wrong.
If McCaffrey had thought enough of her and their one night together to keep in touch, maybe they would have had a chance to work something out.
That works both ways. His challenge echoed.
She’d started so many letters during her pregnancy, all crumpled after a line or two. Aside from being at a loss for words, she could admit that stubborn pride had kept her from finishing even a single note. She’d wanted him to make the first move.
He’d made his move today.
After an invitation he’d thought she’d sent.
And long after she’d sent him the watch. She now regretted that impulse. In a moment of weakness, she’d dropped the watch into the mailbox. She’d been at the post office mailing Fallon’s birth announcements. The announcement she intended for him never made it into the box. But the clues were there if, and that was a big if, he chose to decipher them. Then what?
“Even sperm donors have some say in the matter,” Sammy said with such a look of pity Hannah had to wonder how long she’d been lost in her own thoughts.
“I can’t deal with this right now. Fallon needs changing. And I need to get over to the O Club where I’m sure an impatient photographer is waiting.”
“I’ll change Fallon,” Sammy offered.
“I’ve got her. I’ll just be a minute.” Hannah picked up the reassuring weight of her daughter. Wrestling the stroller single-handed, she headed toward her office inside Hangar Nine. “He didn’t mean it,” she whispered with her cheek pressed against the baby’s, although she wasn’t quite sure which one of them needed reassuring. She felt an ache in her breast that had nothing to do with her milk letting down.
Fallon rooted for a nipple, settling on those ribbons above Hannah’s heart. Putting on the uniform did make Hannah feel different. But honor, courage and commitment to the core values of the Navy didn’t make her heartless or mean she had anything less to give her daughter. In many ways it meant she was willing to give her daughter more.
“Enough now. Auntie Sammy already fed you.”
After Fallon had been born, Hannah had considered contacting McCaffrey through third-party notification. His command, her command, even his family would have been able to send him a Health and Welfare message through the American Red Cross. But did she really want him hearing that he was a father through a SOPA?
Chances were, as CO, he’d have seen the message even before the chaplain had a chance to soften the blow. What would his reaction have been? What if he’d been in a hot zone? Would he have been able to do his duty without distraction? Would he have even got the message?
There were too many unknown variables. With time they’d turned into obstacles.
Pride wasn’t the only thing that had kept her from tracking him down. Doubts about his desire to be a father had crept in. The fact that she knew he’d do his duty regardless only hurt her more. And then Fallon had been born, and Hannah felt the overwhelming need to protect her daughter. Fallon didn’t need a father who’d be in and out of her life so often he’d cease to exist even in her memories.
The single cloudy memory Hannah had of her own father was of him leaving. Her daughter deserved more.
Just as she reached the door to her office, the cell phone in the diaper bag started ringing. Hannah propped the door open with the stroller and grabbed for the phone.
She picked up at the same time she settled Fallon on the couch in her office. “Hello?” She sat down angled toward her daughter and continued to dig in the bag for the necessary diaper and wipes.
“Hannah, it’s Peter.”
“Is everything all right?”
“You mean aside from the fact this project is falling apart without you? We need you, Hannah. I need you.”
“You don’t need me, Peter. You only think you do.”
“I’m a rocket scientist, not a manager. You know I don’t know which way is up without you.”
“You’ll do fine. You have good people working for you—”
“I lost my glasses yesterday. And today I lost my spare.”
“Look up…on top of your head.”
He clicked his tongue, apparently finding them right where she’d said they’d be. “That just proves my point. I need you. Maybe you could fly back for the weekend?”
“Peter—”
“Just for the weekend—”
“I can’t. You know I can’t.”
“I thought you might say that.”
She felt annoyed with him for even asking. She’d cut her maternity leave short to minimize the effect of her longer military absence on the company. He didn’t understand that, at least temporarily, she was no longer available to him. By law he had to hold her job for her. As a friend there was no question that he would. If there was a company to go back to. With so many reservists deploying, it impacted small businesses and big-city po
lice forces alike. She was Peter’s Gal Friday. He counted on her. “If you’re that desperate maybe—”
“I’ve already booked a flight.”
“I was going to say, maybe you could e-mail the proposal, and I could find some time to look it over.” What was she saying? What time? “Peter—”
“Did you get the flowers?”
Hannah was busy peeling the tabs on the clean diaper she’d managed to wrestle under Fallon’s bare bottom, but she wedged the phone between her neck and shoulder and looked around the office. There was a bouquet on her desk. One more wedding item. “Yes.”
“And?” he prompted.
“They’re beautiful,” she said, folding the poopy diaper and stashing it in a plastic bag for later disposal. She’d have to pick up a Diaper Genie for her office. Maybe bring in a portable playpen and some toys… What was she thinking? It wasn’t like she’d be bringing Fallon to the office every day or even be here herself. With less than seventy-two hours’ notice she could be anywhere in the world. Including the latest hot zone.
“You haven’t read the card, have you?”
“No, I’m sorry.” She cleaned her hands with a baby wipe. “I’ve been…busy—”
“I understand.”
Did he really?
Her daughter was now clean and content, gurgling in response to Hannah’s smiles. Peter’s voice barely registered as Hannah got caught up in playing peekaboo.
“Is that Fallon cooing in the background?”
“She’s a Charmin Chatty with a big beau-ti-ful smile,” she emphasized for the baby. See for yourself.” She snapped and sent the digital image from her camera phone to his. “I’m glad you always manage to talk me into the latest gadgets.”
“So am I.”
She took several more pictures. During the photo shoot, Fallon surprised them both by rolling over onto her belly with help from the seat cushion. Lifting her bobble head, she peeked over her shoulder looking for Hannah.
“Yes, Mommy sees your new trick.” She smiled at her daughter’s stunned expression. Fallon’s whole face lit up, her arms and legs windmilled, celebrating the joy of her newfound talent. She was already a handful, but she was really going to be a handful when she started crawling. Hannah could only hope she’d be there to see it. “Did you catch all that?” she asked Peter.
The Seal’s Baby Page 3