The Baby and the Cowboy SEAL (Cowboy SEALs 2)

by Laura Marie Altom

  It was hardly a nice, comfy tent on the outskirts of Baghdad, but it would do.

  He probably needed shut-eye, but couldn’t risk the infant’s well-being, so he held his knife, ready for possible close combat at a moment’s call.

  * * *

  “WHAT DO YOU MEAN he’s afraid of fireworks?” Adrianne asked when Macy told her she suspected Wiley wasn’t himself and had taken Henry with him. “Wiley’s a big, tough guy. I didn’t know he was afraid of anything.”

  “Mom, please stay out of it. Dad, I’ve done some reading and I’m hardly an expert, but I think Wiley suffers from pretty bad PTSD. He tries hiding it, but with each episode, it’s steadily grown worse.” She gave her father the short version of all the other times Wiley had been in trouble, and soon enough, her dad agreed with her possible diagnosis.

  Steve approached the band’s mic. “Sorry, everyone, but as you may have guessed, we’ve got a bit of a situation.” He explained the gist of what had happened, then asked, “If all of you would please find a flashlight, let’s meet back here in ten minutes, then split off into groups to find Wiley and my grandson. They can’t have gotten too far.”

  Macy hoped her father was right in that they’d find Wiley and Henry close and unharmed. She couldn’t imagine what her son must be going through, and after this shocking escalation to Wiley’s obviously unstable mental condition, she worried about him, too.

  Hugging herself, she questioned her every move since her reunion with him. How could she have been so naive? So blinded by his good looks and charm that she hadn’t insisted he see a therapist back on the Fourth of July?

  “How are you holding up?” Wendy asked, flashlight in hand.

  “How do you think? If anything happens to Henry, it’ll be all my fault.”

  “I’m sure Henry is fine,” Wendy said with another hug. “Wiley’s a good guy. He just needs help—which we’ll all do our best to help him find.”

  Macy wished she could be so sure.

  An hour passed with no sign of her husband or son.

  Two hours melded into three as the search widened from the neighborhood to the surrounding area, and then finally, the dark menacing forest where Macy was terrified to go.

  She wanted to help with the search, but her father refused her offer, thinking it best she stay home safe with her mom, making sandwiches and coffee for the hundred-plus volunteers who had switched from party to rescue mode.

  The sun had just risen when a police deputy’s radio squawked. Her father’s party had picked up Wiley’s trail and they now heard a baby crying. He requested that Macy ride out on a four-wheeler with warm clothes, a bottle and a diaper.

  “He’s o-okay,” Macy managed on the heels of a sob. “Henry has to be okay.”

  “What about Wiley?” Adrianne asked the deputy. “Ask my husband if he knows anything more.”

  “Mom, I’m afraid to know. What if Wiley’s so far gone he can’t come back?”

  “If that’s the case, we’ll handle it one day—one minute—at a time. For now, all we know is that he needs help. Go to him. Help him heal.”

  Macy choked back fresh tears and nodded.

  * * *

  MACY WISHED SHE could have been angry. It was so much easier to bear than the sorrow gripping her chest upon finding Wiley, cradling her son. He sat crouched under a rock overhang, staring blankly ahead while holding an open pocketknife.

  She climbed off the four-wheeler a deputy had driven, then approached her dad. “What can I do?”

  “Slowly go to him. Play along with whatever scenario he’s stuck in. I’ve got calls out to a couple friends who have lived through this and come out okay. He’s a good man, Macy. Yes, he’s done a horrible, horrible thing by running off with the baby, but I suspect he only wanted to save Henry from perceived danger—never to harm him.”

  Macy sniffed back tears, then squared her shoulders.

  Each step seemed to take a lifetime.

  Her father had coached her to make no sudden moves. Behind her, a half-dozen men stood by with firearms should her conversation with Wiley take an unexpected turn. Macy prayed it didn’t come to that.

  “Wiley?” About ten feet away, she stopped. “Can you hear me? It’s Macy. I’m here to help.”

  He straightened, then saluted. “Master Chief Wiley James, reporting for duty. Are you here to provide the civilian and myself safe transport back to my team?”

  “Y-yes.” Macy’s heart shattered.

  Henry was fine, nestled safe and snug in Wiley’s capable arms, tugging at his nose. His cheeks were dirt-smudged and hair a mess, but of course, Wiley hadn’t hurt him. How could he when he was hurt himself?

  “Do you have a radio? I need to report my status to my team. The civilian infant is unharmed, and there has been no sign of enemy fire since dawn.”

  Where had he gone? Where was the strong, capable, charming cowboy she’d so desperately loved that she’d ignored every warning ringing in her soul? She no longer blamed Wiley for any of this, but herself. He’d told her all along he wasn’t ready for marriage, and he’d been right.

  “Ma’am? Your radio?”

  “Sure. I’ve got one.” She wiped silent, messy tears with the backs of her hands. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to it.”

  “Great.”

  “Would you mind if I hold the infant?”

  “Ma’am, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I’ve been charged with his safekeeping.”

  She choked back fresh tears. “I understand. Follow me, and everything’s going to be okay.” Only it wouldn’t. Even love wasn’t strong enough to fix this mess. Wiley might be lost to her and there wasn’t a damned thing she could do to fix him. Or the hole in her heart.

  * * *

  WILEY HAD NO IDEA how much time had passed when he came to. The last thing he remembered was dancing with Macy at their party, then he woke here—in an unremarkable hospital room with his arms and legs restrained.

  Pain shot through his leg, radiating into his back.

  His mouth was dry and stomach queasy.

  “You’re awake.”

  Wiley glanced toward the curtain-covered window to find Macy’s dad. “What happened? How long have I been out?”

  “A few days. You’ve been in and out while coming down from your meds. You’re in a Missoula hospital psych ward. Adrianne and I had the bright idea to end your party with a bang by hosting a fireworks show, then—”

  Wiley groaned. “I don’t want to know what comes next.”

  “No one saw you leave, but you snatched up Henry, and ran off with him into the woods. We found you bivouacked the next morning beneath a rock overhang. You did a good job of protecting him against what your mind perceived as a grave threat. Only there was no danger. Which is why we’re going to get you some help.”

  “Not that I deserve to speak with her, but where’s Macy?”

  “She went to grab a bite to eat with her mom. They should be back soon.”

  “Think you could get me out of these?”

  Steve obliged. “Don’t even think about bolting.”

  “Trust me,” he released a sad chuckle, “as bad as my leg hurts, I couldn’t go anywhere if I tried.” He pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead. “I’m sorry. I thought I had everything under control, but—”

  The door creaked open, then Adrianne and Macy walked through.

  “You’re up.” Adrianne approached him for a hug.

  He wanted Macy, to touch her, talk to her, try to make sense out of this nightmare he didn’t begin to understand.

  Steve cleared his throat. “Adrianne, how about you take me to get some coffee.”

  “But, I— Oh, yes. Let’s go. Macy, hon, I’ve got my cell if you need us.”

  “Th
anks, Mom.” She leaned against the wall farthest from Wiley’s bed.

  When his in-laws had left, Wiley said, “I’m sorry. I don’t even remember what I’ve done, but you have to know I’m—”

  Macy stormed across the floor to throw her arms around him, her body racked with sobs. She didn’t stop crying until the chest of his hospital gown was soaked with her tears. “I h-hate you.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  “You lied—so many times. About everything. And then you had another spell and ran off with Henry. I was so scared—terrified—one or both of you might have been hurt.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m fine.”

  “Don’t you dare tell me you’re fine, Wiley James, because you’re not. God knows how many pain pills you’ve been taking and lying the whole time. I’m not stupid. I finally put two and two together and realized it’s not normal for pain meds to arrive in a bucket.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You played me for a fool—and my family and all of our friends. And for what? Your pride? At any time, you could have come to any of us for help, but you were too damned stubborn. You knew my ex broke my heart, and when I begged you time and again to be straight with me about how bad you were hurting, and about how many meds you were taking, and about your PTSD, you lied. You’re a horrible, despicable man, and I hate you. I hate you.”

  “I love you.”

  “Why can’t I stop loving you?” Her tears started again. She leaned over to press her cheek to his chest, all the while fisting his gown.

  “You should hate me.” He stroked her impossibly soft red curls. “I hate myself for hurting you. If this is the part where you tell me you’re leaving me, I won’t stop you. I don’t deserve you—never did—and if it’s what you want, I’ll let you go.”

  “No, Wiley, you won’t. I wish leaving you would be that easy, but how can I ever be truly rid of you when you’ve always been in my heart?”

  Hope he didn’t deserve, but so badly wanted, swelled inside him. “So what do you want to do?”

  “Mom’s going to watch Henry while Dad and I drive you to Texas. Dad found an inpatient clinic that specializes in treating PTSD and drug addiction, and will also get you the physical therapy you need for your leg to no longer be in constant pain. They don’t know how long it will take to make you whole, but when they do, Henry and I will be up on the mountain, waiting for you to come home.”

  Epilogue

  Six months later

  “Charlie, if you don’t get your stubborn behind out of the garden, I’m going to spank you with this hoe.”

  He spit, but luckily trotted back toward the pasture to where the relatively well-behaved goats and horses grazed. Doc had brought six more horses to be rehabilitated, and just as Wiley had planned, Macy, with the help of a couple good ex-rodeo cowboys Doc highly recommended, started his small-scale trail-riding stable for tourists, although now that winter had set in, business was slow.

  It seemed as if it had been forever since Wiley had been home, but today was the day he’d return. She wasn’t sure how to feel. Part giddy. Part apprehensive. Part panic-stricken.

  She wasn’t sure what to do or say.

  She and Henry had visited him for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

  They talked on the phone as often as Wiley was allowed, but mostly, they’d exchanged letters. Deep, thought-provoking letters about everything from how much they loved each other to their plans for the future to how Wiley felt about getting released.

  He’d admitted to being scared. Humbled.

  His memories of what happened with Henry had eventually returned, and he’d been sickened by his behavior. But since Macy and her family had forgiven him, she’d urged him to forgive himself.

  At the foot of the porch stairs, Pancake lounged in the unseasonably warm sun. Her two pups were nearly as big as she, and loved nothing more than baying at Popcorn who never much budged from the porch or piano.

  Blinkie and Henry had become inseparable, but now that the toddler was walking, the dog had learned to run faster to keep up.

  Hands on her hips, Macy surveyed the cabin and grounds, wishing for an early spring. Snow covered most everything, but patches of grass at least provided hope that warmer days were to come.

  The task of prepping the garden for an early planting wasn’t especially fun, but it kept her mind off Wiley. She felt more like a teen about to embark on her first date than a married woman with a child.

  She worked until Henry tripped and got snow in his mouth, then took him inside to wash up.

  She baked oatmeal cookies so the house would smell like a home.

  So she didn’t have to cook when she’d rather be visiting, she made a meat loaf and mashed potatoes and green beans for dinner.

  By six, darkness was settling around the cabin, and Macy feared losing a good bit of her mind from anticipation.

  But then her father’s truck’s headlights shone through the front window, and she swooped up Henry and ran for the door.

  Her dad beat Wiley from the truck. “You two are a sight for sore eyes. Man, that’s a long stretch of highway.”

  Wiley emerged. He’d shaved, wore his hair in a buzz cut, and walked with what looked to be a hand-carved cane. In his usual stubble’s absence, faint scars were now visible on his cheek and chin.

  For the longest time, Macy stood in the dying sun, staring at her husband as if he was a mirage. How many nights had she lain awake, dreaming of this moment? Yet now that it was here, her limbs had turned gangly and awkward and unsure.

  “Hey,” Wiley said.

  “Hey, yourself, cowboy.”

  He held his battered straw hat in hand, and when she met him at the bottom of the steps, he put it on Henry’s head. Then he happened to glance down at her swollen belly and tears sprang to his eyes.

  “Surprise...” She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, shyly laughing when their baby got in the way.

  He hung his cane on the porch rail to brace both hands on the miracle growing inside her. “How did you keep this from me? All those letters. Why didn’t you ever...” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “I wanted you to worry about you. If you’d known I was carrying our baby girl, I’m afraid you would have gone and done something stupid like checking yourself out of the facility.”

  “Probably true,” he said with a wry nod. “And you—” He grinned and pointed to Steve. “Some kind of friend you turned out to be, keeping this big a secret.”

  “It wasn’t easy, but I had selfish motives for wanting you to get back to Eagle Ridge just as fast as you safely could.”

  “Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

  Macy’s heart galloped when Wiley put his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close.

  “Because I’m damn sick and tired of helping your wife care for all of these doggone animals Doc Carthage keeps bringing.”

  As if on cue, Blinkie and Pancake barked.

  Charlie and his angels and the goats and horses stood at the fence rail, watching the proceedings as if they’d also awaited Wiley’s return.

  Henry wriggled to be let down to chase the dogs, so Macy set him to his feet.

  “Look at him go.” Wiley teared up all over again. “I’ve missed so much.”

  “Yeah, but look how much you now have to look forward to.”

  He pulled her into a lingering kiss, during which her dad cleared his throat.

  “If y’all don’t mind,” Steve said with a big wink, “I’m gonna go smooch on my wife.”

  “Bye, Dad.” Macy crushed him in a hug. “Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

  Wiley repeated the sentiment.

  “It’s been my pleasure,” he said on his way to the truck. “But Wiley, from now on, I’ll expect to see yo
u nice and regular down at the VFW. It’s high time the boys and I had new blood for Tuesday night poker.”

  “Yessir, I’ll be there.”

  Arm in arm, Macy stood with Wiley, waving while her dad drove off.

  “Now, what do you want to do?” Wiley asked.

  “Anything you want—except for ever leaving me again.”

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from THE TEXAS RANGER’S NANNY by Rebecca Winters.

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  The Texas Ranger’s Nanny

  by Rebecca Winters

  Chapter One

  “There is a storm warning in effect in the Denton area, where two tornadoes have been confirmed this morning. Those driving toward Denton are advised to take shelter beneath an overpass or to abandon their vehicles and find a ditch, if possible, until the storm pas—”

  Unable to listen to any more, Texas Ranger Stephen Victorio Malone—better known as Vic—shut off the radio as he drove from his house to headquarters in downtown Austin Monday morning. Though the weather was in the mideighties and had been for the entire month, he broke out in a cold sweat after hearing the warning. He always listened to the news in the car, but any mention of a tornado triggered a response he doubted he would ever overcome.

  Three years ago he’d lost his parents and his wife, Laura, in a tornado near his hometown of Blanco, Texas. His initial grief might have passed, but the pain of losing three people he loved at once would stay with him to the end of his life. If it hadn’t been for his four-year-old son, Jeremy, who wasn’t with the family at the time, he didn’t know if he would have survived it.