The Baby and the Cowboy SEAL (Cowboy SEALs 2)

by Laura Marie Altom

“Sure did. Plus, a whole lot more. That place stocks the damnedest things.”

  “Hmm...” Wendy worked on a fancy coffee Wiley assumed the burly guy standing at the counter must have ordered. “Guess I’ve never noticed.”

  “If you get a chance, you really should.” High on life and feeling no pain, he winked. “Great stuff.”

  Macy and her friend shared a look. If he hadn’t been feeling so Zen, he might have wondered what it was about.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “There are the two lovebirds,” Adrianne teased the second Macy and Wiley walked through the door, giving them both big hugs.

  Macy shut the front door. “I told you last night wasn’t like that. We both needed to catch up on our sleep.”

  “Uh-huh...” She winked before returning to her seat at the dining room table, where she was already scrapbooking her Fourth of July photos. “Protest all you want, but I didn’t just ride into town on the back of a turnip truck. I used to be young.”

  “Look at you, little man.” Wiley gravitated toward Henry who’d pulled himself up on the playpen’s edge. “You’ve got some impressive skills. High-five.” Macy needed to hold tight to her frustration with Wiley. She needed to watch for further signs that something else might be wrong with his physical or mental state. But how could she when at this moment, watching him interact with her son, felt so incredibly right?

  He’d bought all those silly gifts from the drugstore, and then the two of them reminisced about how much trouble he’d gotten in for sticking his hand in the candy store’s taffy-pulling machine all because Macy dared him.

  In the future, if he showed the slightest indication something was wrong, she’d address the heck of out it then. But for now, like Wendy suggested, Macy chose to put all worries aside to be happy.

  “Hey.” Steve entered through the kitchen’s sliding glass door. “I didn’t know we had company.”

  “Hi, Dad.” Macy gave him a hug. “What have you been doing? You’re all sweaty.”

  “Don’t ask,” Adrianne called from the dining room. “I told him it was too soon, but he insisted.”

  “Now I’m really curious,” Macy said.

  “This was supposed to be a surprise—” Steve left her to get a bottled water from the fridge “—but a few weeks back, for Henry, I ordered a DIY backyard castle fort kit from an online place. It’s gonna be awesome—it has swings and a slide and a sandbox moat.”

  “Dad, Henry can’t even walk.”

  “Maybe not now, but he’s getting there. Look at him.” Clasping the playpen’s edge, her son danced and giggled. Could life possibly get much sweeter?

  “Sounds awesome,” Wiley said. “Mind if I help?”

  Steve asked, “Sure you’re up to it?”

  Wiley swooped Henry up and into his arms. “Absolutely.”

  Macy hadn’t expected an answer to her rhetorical question, but as tears stung her eyes at the sight of all three of the guys in her life getting along, she realized that yes, life could get sweeter, and she was loving it.

  “Did you tell them about the party?” Macy’s dad asked her mom.

  “Not yet. I was waiting till you were here with me, and it’s not just a party, but a reception.”

  “Oh, well excuse me.” Steve snorted and shook his head. “The queen and I have decided to throw you two a wedding reception.”

  “I want to make it big.” Adrianne put down her scissors to spread her arms wide. “I want a cake and flowers and balloons. I’m thinking a Western theme, but if you two have something else in mind, I’m happy to discuss options.”

  “Mom, Dad, thank you, but that’s not necessary.”

  “Yeah,” Wiley piped in. “We’re good.”

  Adrianne waved off both of their protests. “I think it’s necessary.”

  “And remember, she’s the queen.” Steve winked, only to have Adrianne chase him out from behind the dining room table to give his backside a swat.

  “Don’t you listen to a word your father says.” Adrianne held out her arms for Wiley to pass her the baby. “My little angel deserves the best, and if your father can build Henry a castle fort, then I can show him off at a fancy party—oh, and this will be a black tie event.”

  “Mom! Stop. No one around here even has those kinds of clothes. The last time I wore a fancy dress was—” It had been for her wedding with Rex. Not an event she cared to revisit, now that she actually had the makings of her fairy-tale second-chance marriage. “Well, how about we skip the black tie, and just keep it to church suits and dresses?”

  Her mom pouted. “I really wanted to see Henry in a tux. My friend Shirley had formal pictures with her grandson, and she already has the most darling scrapbook made of—”

  “Wait, so you don’t want this party for me and Wiley, but so you can out-scrapbook your friend?”

  Steve roared with laughter.

  Wiley tried holding back a smile.

  Macy already wanted the event over before planning had even started.

  * * *

  “I’M FLATTERED YOUR MOM wants to go to so much effort. It’ll probably be fun.” After helping Steve with the fort for three hours, they’d packed up Henry and traveled home to the mountain.

  “I know, but it seems like an awful lot of fuss.”

  “Are you really trying to say you don’t trust me to keep my shit together at another party?” Wiley was more than ready for his next dose of medicine, and while Macy finished making ham sandwiches at his kitchen counter, he supervised Henry and Blinkie’s reunion. Doc had met them at the cabin, and brought not only the dog, but another horse.

  “Not at all. Maybe I just don’t want to share you.”

  “Whatever.” Since she had her back turned to him, Wiley fished two pills from his bottle, then swallowed them with the last of the warm Dr. Pepper he’d bought at the drug store. “Did I tell you I’ve got a doctor’s appointment in the morning?”

  “No. With Dr. Kendrick here in town?” She took pickles from the fridge.

  “It’s with a guy in Newflower.”

  “Why so far away?”

  He tried stooping to pick up Henry, but a spasm shot through him. Wiley tried to straighten, but a cold sweat accompanied pain so vivid he could only fall back into what had been his grandfather’s favorite chair.

  “Wiley?”

  “Yeah...” He grit his teeth. “I’m good.”

  She thankfully stayed in the kitchen. “Why didn’t you make an appointment here in town?”

  “I don’t want anyone else in my business, okay?”

  Apparently, that was the wrong answer.

  Wiley cringed when she banged something metallic against the counter, then appeared before him with her hands on her hips. “FYI—I’m your wife, not just anyone. I want to go with you to your appointment.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “Absolutely not. I’m a big boy, and perfectly capable of getting to a doctor on my own.”

  “This isn’t even up for debate. I’m going. End of story.”

  Wiley was on the verge of escalating the argument, but when Henry started to cry at the raised voices, he changed tactics. “How about if we compromise by you driving me?”

  “I want to hear what the doctor says.”

  “I’ll tell you. But I’m a little old to have my hand held at a doctor’s appointment. It’s embarrassing.”

  She looked away, but not before he caught her swiping tears from her cheeks. The fact that he’d caused her even a moment’s pain was too much, but hell, a man needed his privacy.

  “I’m sorry.” Even though the drug hadn’t yet kicked in, with effort, he stood. “You and Henry tag along. We’ll make a fun day of it. Have a nice lunch. Do some shopping. It’s going
to be great.”

  “Wiley, the articles I read about PTSD were heartbreaking. Promise, you’ll talk to the doctor about what happened during the fireworks.”

  “I will.” He hugged her, and kissed the crown of her head, trying to show her with his body what his words apparently didn’t adequately convey—that from now on, he would never hurt her.

  “And no more talk of annulments. We’re in this together.”

  “I get it,” he said with a nod. “Trust me, okay? I’m fine. You have nothing to worry about other than whether or not the goats are going to screw up your garden as much as they have mine.”

  * * *

  IN THE DOCTOR’S waiting room the next morning, Macy tried keeping her focus on the book she was reading to Henry, but it was hard when her every instinct felt she should be with her husband.

  So much about his behavior didn’t add up.

  Before they were married, at times, he’d been cranky and impossible to deal with, but now he had the same dark flashes, but seemed to rein them in. Maybe that was a good sign? And what if she was overthinking everything? Maybe he really was okay, and because of what Rex had put her through, she was assuming every man lied?

  “Sweetie,” she whispered to Henry, “do you think Mommy’s making too big a deal out of your new daddy’s meltdown?”

  “Gaaaah!” Since the baby-speak had been delivered with a smile, she’d take that as a yes.

  For such a long time with Rex, her marriage had been a nightmare. The secretive phone calls and late night meetings had been disastrous to her confidence and sense of self-worth. But that was all in the past. Now, she and Wiley had a good thing going.

  Why did her heart refuse to believe it?

  * * *

  WILEY PERCHED ON the edge of the exam table, wearing a damned dress and sitting on the equivalent of a rough paper diaper. His nice, safe Dr. Jessie had turned out to be a woman—not that he had anything against the fairer sex serving in the medical profession, but when it came to this particular issue, he would have preferred dealing with a man.

  “Mr. James, I understand that you’d like a refill on your meds, but please understand my position. The ultimate goal is to get you off the meds. To do that, you need extensive physical therapy. I spoke with your VA doctor before your appointment, and he said he explained that to you—that the pain meds were strictly to be used as a crutch to get you through the worst of physical therapy. And then, taken only occasionally.”

  “Great. Well, I currently have an occasional need.”

  She scribbled something in his chart. What was up with first the punk kid at the pharmacy, and now this woman who didn’t look old enough to babysit Henry? She wore her long dark hair in a high ponytail more suitable for a cheerleader than medical professional.

  He shifted positions, crinkling the paper under his ass. “Am I good to go?”

  “Not just yet. I’m going to set you up with a traveling nurse to get you started on your physical therapy routine. Let’s see how you do with outpatient care, but with your level of pain, I’m afraid you may need more aggressive treatment.”

  “I’m good. Just give me the prescription, and I’ll be on my way.”

  “See?” She tapped her pen against his file. “That desperation leads me to believe you may have a bigger problem than what’s going on with your leg. I’m going to be blunt—I’m concerned you’re abusing your meds.”

  “Lord...” He swiped his hand through his too-long hair. “I’m out of here. If you won’t give me a prescription, I’ll find someone who will—someone who cares about helping a decorated vet lead a normal life.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, Mr. James, but if I didn’t care, I would hand over unlimited refills of the drug that I suspect may be doing you more harm than good.” She wrote out a limited prescription, gave him a list of VA doctors to contact, told him again about the physical therapy nurse, lectured another ten minutes on the evils of drug addiction, then finally set him free.

  The irony in all of this was that he’d never wanted to start taking the meds for fear of ending up addicted, yet now, this doctor who’d only met him once had appointed herself judge and jury by declaring him already in trouble—but he wasn’t. Why couldn’t anyone see that as long as he had a steady supply of meds, he’d be great?

  He wanted so badly to punch the nearest wall, but for the sake of Macy, held his anger in check.

  “Hey,” she said when he crossed the waiting room to take Henry from her lap. “How’d it go?”

  “Perfect. Ready for lunch?”

  * * *

  NEWFLOWER WAS DOUBLE the size of Eagle Ridge, and easily had triple the tourists mingling through the shops on Nugget Avenue—named during the town’s fleeting mining fame in the late 1860s. Now the former redbrick bank and assayer’s office served as an art gallery and upscale Mexican restaurant, which is where Macy settled Henry into his high chair while waiting for Wiley to return from parking the truck.

  She hoped he wouldn’t have to walk far.

  No matter how much he kept insisting he was fine, she couldn’t shake her doubts.

  At least fifteen minutes after she’d been seated, he finally joined her. His whole demeanor had changed. After the doctor, he’d been withdrawn and quiet. Now, he treated her to his most irresistible sexy-slow grin. “Sorry that took so long. I found a good spot, but a friend called, and since we hadn’t caught up in a while, I lost track of time.”

  “That’s okay. Henry and I have been getting intimately acquainted with the chips and queso. Too bad for you they’re almost gone.”

  He surveyed the empty bowl. “Didn’t you vow to obey me and leave me at least a drop of queso?”

  “Funny...” Wrinkling her nose, she said, “I don’t remember that part of the ceremony.”

  He leaned to her side of the booth for a kiss. “Doesn’t surprise me. You were no doubt in a temporary stupor due to my many charms.”

  “You are some piece of work.”

  He stole another kiss. And nothing else mattered but maintaining this magic. Wiley had always been a fixture in her life, but now he was her life. He and Henry meant everything.

  From this moment on, she vowed to trust her husband, and to believe he would never do anything to hurt her fragile heart.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Life was good.

  It was mid-August and since hooking up with a friend of a friend of a friend, Wiley now had a limitless supply of medicine, delivered right to his home. He’d canceled the physical therapy nurse and never returned to that quack doctor.

  Because seriously, who knew his body better than he?

  He wouldn’t say his current uphill hike to the best huckleberries was exactly fun, but with three pills in his system, he could more than handle the climb, or anything else his land required of him. All the animals had been moved to Macy’s—even the cat, who now lived on the new front porch. Pancake had taken to lounging in the sun, while her rowdy pups played around her. Just as Doc predicted, the goats and horses and Charlie and his girls had become constant companions.

  The junk pile at his grandpa’s cabin had been hauled off, and all the fences walked and mended. Plans were in motion for his trail-riding business, and with luck, he’d be open for business in a couple weeks. He now needed medicine every couple hours to keep him working at this peak level, but that was okay. Now that he knew he had plenty, he failed to see a problem in taking it the way his first prescription ordered: as needed.

  “Are you all right?” Macy asked from behind him. She was out of breath and huffing, but even carrying Henry on his back, Wiley felt fantastic.

  “I’m great! Could go all day.” He would have walked backward to showboat, but didn’t want to risk hurting Henry. “Need a break?”

  “Yes. I’m dying.�
� She drank from the bottled water she’d stashed in the berry basket. “I didn’t expect it to be this hot.”

  “If you want to take off your shirt, I’ll lose mine.”

  He loved the sound of her laugh. “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “Henry...” Wiley walked down the trail to his wife. “Hide your eyes, bud. Daddy’s got some kissing to do.”

  Lord, he loved holding Macy against him.

  Her curves fit just right, as if they’d been made to be together. Kissing her made him crave more, but a cloud had passed over the sun, and there was a chance of rain for later in the afternoon. He wanted his family safe back in the cabin by then.

  “Mmm...” Macy held her eyes closed when they paused for air. “Not that I care to make your ego any bigger, but, Wiley James, you sure do know how to make a girl happy.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” He tipped his straw hat to her. “But if you want enough berries to make jam, we need to get going.”

  “Agreed. I’m not liking the look of this sky.”

  In another thirty minutes, the clouds had cleared, and they reached the sunny glade where their families had been picking huckleberries for almost a hundred years. Wiley’s great-grandfather had been a miner, and when that failed, he’d turned to trapping to earn a living. It had been a rough life, but according to Buster’s recollections, satisfying.

  Once Macy spread a quilt for Henry to lounge on, then slathered him in a fresh layer of sunscreen, she joined Wiley in picking.

  He asked, “Remember the time we came up here with your grandma and found a bear cleaning every bush?”

  “Sure do. I also remember Grandma aiming her shotgun straight for his behind.”

  “She was a damned good shot.” Wiley plucked five fat berries to add to their growing pile. “Used to put both our grandfathers to shame.”

  “Yes, she did.”

  He moved on to the next bush. “Think there’s any way we could get her to your mom’s party?”

  “I suppose we could try. It all depends on how she’s doing. When we went to see her right after the wedding, she didn’t recognize either of us, so it might not be a good idea to take her to an unfamiliar place.”