“Arrrrggggghhh!”
“That’s it! I see the head. You’re almost there.”
Stephie lurched upward, clasping her knees, bearing down, gritting her teeth, squeezing Patrick’s hand .
“You’ve got this, hon. I love you.”
“P-Patrick—check the baby. I-I have to know. I-I’m so afraid.” She pushed harder and harder until white light danced before her eyes and then came a near-unbearable pressure before the sweetest release. It was over.
But was her baby’s life?
Sheer terror mixed with exhaustion. Shivering and sobbing, she closed her eyes and prayed like she’d never prayed before.
Why wasn’t their baby crying?
This was it, wasn’t it?
The worst had come to pass, and their baby was already dead.
Pain crushed her chest, bearing down on her with such force she couldn’t catch her next breath. She’d been a fool to believe in miracles.
From the foot of the bed, Patrick made a choking, crying sound, “Steph…”
Oh God. Their baby was dead. Dead.
Stephie thought she’d be ready, but she wasn’t. Nothing could have prepared her for this level of despair. Why? Why was this happening? What had she ever done to—
“There we go,” Jewel said. “A little suction and voila…”
At first, the infant’s cry was weak, but then grew with a hearty bellow.
“Your son,” Jewel said though laughing tears, “Doesn’t seem at all pleased by this intrusion upon his sleep.” She placed him on Stephie’s chest.
He was perfect…
Perfect…
All of her fears had been unfounded. She’d been so afraid of the worst-case scenario that she and Patrick hadn’t even discussed possible names, but now… Her smile was wide enough to hurt. Crying all over again, this time for sheer joy, Stephie cradled her son, holding him tight, never wanting to let him go.
“W-we have a baby boy.” Patrick eased onto the bed alongside her, trailing his pinkie over the tiny creature’s eyebrows and fingers.
“You did great,” Jewel tossed a light blanket over the infant. “I’m going to give you a few minutes to bond, but then we need to cut the cord and deliver the afterbirth. Patrick, once that’s done, I’ll need you to help fill out paperwork…”
For Stephie, her midwife could’ve been speaking Martian. All that mattered was that after nine endless months of the darkest possible storms, the clouds had parted and made way for the sun—or, make that… Son.
Chapter Fifteen
PATRICK WOKE IN the middle of the night to the fitful cries of his son.
His son.
The fact that he was a father to a perfectly healthy baby boy still blew his mind. After decades of never believing such a thing was possible, here he was, slipping from the bed he shared with the woman he loved to scoop his little guy from the dresser drawer they used as a bassinet and into his arms.
“Hungry?” He held his pinkie to the baby’s mouth. The baby hungrily suckled. Patrick laughed. “Hold up. You’ll need your momma for that.”
There’d been an awkward moment with Jewel upon the realization that Stephie had only bought the bare minimum of preparations for their son. A bag of diapers, a few onesies and soft blankets, cans of formula and bottles. That was it. Because deep down, she hadn’t believed she’d be leaving this cabin with anything but a broken heart.
“Is he awake?” she asked, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
“And hungry. Hate to wake you, but this little guy’s craving a late-night snack.”
By the moonlight streaming through the windows, her smile not only lit her eyes but made her entire face glow.
She pushed herself up, stacking pillows behind her before parting her nightshirt, then holding out her arms for their son. Moments later, the baby had latched onto her breast, greedily suckling with grunts and mews.
“Swear to God…” Patrick switched on the dim bedside lamp, then knelt beside Stephie and his son, “never in my whole life have I seen a more beautiful sight.”
“I love you,” she said.
“Love you, too.” The scene struck him as surreal. As much as he’d hoped for just such a scenario, he’d never dared believed the dream may come true. “We have a lot of catching up to do. Picking a name. Heading back to Anchorage for baby gear. We should probably get this guy checked out by a pediatrician just to be on the safe side. We need to decide where we’ll live. When and where you want our wedding.”
“Our wedding?” Eyebrows raised, she asked, “When did you propose?”
“Pretty sure I did earlier?”
“Maybe you should do it again, because I guess since my mind was focused on this guy, I somehow missed you popping the big question.”
He took her hand. “Marry me.”
“Yes.” She was again beaming. “Now that we’ve had one healthy baby, that no doubt means we can have plenty more. You have no idea what a relief that is. Ever since my parents died, I’ve been consumed with building a new family so I wouldn’t feel so alone. Now that I’ll have you and our son and all our future babies, I can’t begin to describe my relief…”
“Sweetheart…” Where did he begin? He released a long, slow exhale. “The last thing I want on this perfect night is to disagree, but with all due respect, are you crazy?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m all for adopting, but you do understand we dodged a potentially lethal bullet with you delivering our healthy baby? There’s no way in hell I would ever want you carrying my child again. To ensure that, I had a vasectomy.”
“You what?”
“It was the responsible thing to do. After the hell we’ve both been through, I would have thought you’d understand?”
“No. I don’t. Since we have had a healthy son, that means we can have more. The fact that you would make such a drastic decision without even consulting me is—”
“What are you talking about? We weren’t together at the time. I got it right after my genetic counseling. And while we’re playing the blame game, let’s get it all on the table. I’m still plenty pissed that you didn’t tell me you were pregnant as soon as you took the damn test.” Leaving her side, he found his jeans where he’d left them over the back of an armchair and tugged them on. He added a hoodie before cramming his bare feet into his hiking boots.
“Where are you going?”
“I need air.”
“Air?”
“Yeah, you know that thing grown, sane adults need to live. At the moment, your crazy is sucking all air from the room.” He knew the line was hurtful and juvenile, but he didn’t understand her point of view and never would.
Her suggestion to put aside their months of worry in favor of starting the cycle all over again made no sense. Now, neither did them being together.
He grabbed his wallet and the keys to his rental SUV, then headed into the night.
Stephie finished feeding their sleeping newborn, tucked him into his drawer, then buttoned her nightshirt, padding barefoot into the living room to find Patrick and try having a rational discussion.
He’d made valid points, but that didn’t change the fact that his decision hurt her to her core. For all they knew, with cutting-edge medical discoveries being made every day, there might have been a way to test his sperm and inseminate. Who knew what could happen in the future?
Yes, they’d just been through hell, but that was because they’d never planned for her to be pregnant. Maybe genetic testing could be performed in the lab on her fertilized egg? But even that scenario raised potential problems. It would still be heartbreaking to be advised to destroy a fertilized egg.
As much as it hurt her pride and heart to admit, Patrick had been right.
But that didn’t make his decision easier to bear. And it certainly didn’t lessen the sting of him not telling her about his vasectomy.
I’m still plenty pissed that you didn’t tell me you were pregnant as soon as y
ou took the damn test.
His words rang in her head.
Covering her face with her hands, she released a ragged sigh, then launched a quick search for him. He wasn’t on the front or back porch, nor on the dock. The moon shone bright enough that she’d have seen him everywhere but the darkest shadow.
She checked the front again only to realize his rental SUV was missing. Really? After all they’d been through, he’d just left her? She was still hurting from the delivery, but physical pain she could bear. The realization that Patrick left her and his son crushed her spirit and soul.
Seated on the cold stone hearth, more than anything, she missed him—the easy camaraderie they’d always shared. With so much to look forward to in the coming days, weeks and months of raising their son, why had she made such a fuss about having more babies when her every dream had already come true?
More than anything, Stephie wanted Patrick to come home.
She needed to apologize and tell him that for now, possibly forever, their family of three was exactly what she wanted. But how could she do that when he was gone?
Curled onto the sofa, Stephie waited for Patrick to return to their son, to her. But what if he didn’t?
She drifted into a listless sleep, but then the baby cried again and she was up changing his wet diaper. They were running low, which made her feel like an awful mom when she wasn’t even twenty-four hours into her new job.
“I’m sorry,” she said to her little man. “But you know what? As much as I’d hoped for you, I was afraid to believe you’d really come.” She smiled past silent tears. “I mean, I always knew you would come, but my fear was whether or not you’d stay…”
Headlights shone through the windows. Patrick?
Cradling their precious son, she met the man she loved at the cabin’s front door just as he bumbled through with more grocery sacks than any normal man could carry. But he was no normal guy, he was her SEAL. Her baby’s father. Hopefully, her soon-to-be husband.
“Sorry,” they both said at the same time.
After an equally awkward shared laugh, then trying to speak over each other, he piled the bags on the coffee table, then said, “Let me go first.”
“O-okay.” She backed into the nearest armchair.
“I shouldn’t have taken off on you like that. My only excuse besides needing space to think is that I knew there was that all-night grocery store on the outskirts of Anchorage, so I drove probably too fast combining thinking with a baby supply run.”
“What did you need time to think about?” A knot lodged at the back of her throat while her heart swelled with love.
“A lot of things—mainly, how I need you to understand that for me, your pregnancy was the equivalent of playing Russian roulette with our hearts. Even though it was accidental, our healthy baby is a miracle. Why can’t you be happy with the son we have?”
“I can,” she said. “While you were gone, I also had time to think. Please remember it hasn’t even been a full day since I’ve given birth, so I’m still a little fuzzy. When you told me you’d had a vasectomy, all my heart heard was that you didn’t love me enough to have more children. Which is exactly like you said—crazy. I just reacted without considering that this little guy,” she kissed the tip of their son’s tiny nose, “is going to take all my energy and then some. If we decide we want more at some point down the road, we can talk about options then. The one thing I can’t do without right now is you. I love you. I need you. We need you.”
“The feeling’s one-thousand-percent mutual.” He knelt in front of her, cupping his giant hand to the crown of their miracle son’s tiny head.
Epilogue
STANDING AT THE altar of Kodiak Gorge’s chapel on the day of Patrick Jr.’s christening, Patrick Sr. couldn’t remember having ever felt more at peace with his lot in life. Back in early December, he and Stephie married in a simple civil ceremony with all their friends present, and they’d all gathered again on this blustery January day to share in this blessed occasion.
He met her gaze, mouthing, Love you.
Holding their son in her arms, she beamed, then blew him a kiss.
“Will the godparents please step forward…” The pastor motioned for Delia and Hawk to approach. They stood on either side of Stephie and the baby. “Do you both promise to always love and protect, and if necessary, serve as parents to this child?”
“We do,” they said in unison as they’d rehearsed. Stephie had seemed to think they made a cute couple and hoped serving in this official capacity would bring them closer. Patrick had known his friend long enough to realize Hawk may not ever settle down. It wasn’t in his DNA.
After the ceremony, the whole crew reassembled at Tanner and Jenny’s house for a combination christening party and baby shower.
While the women gushed over itty bitty cowboy boots and blue jeans and polka-dotted diaper covers, Patrick’s boss and friend, Brody, gathered him and the rest of the guys downstairs in Tanner’s man cave.
“What’s up?” Colby asked. “If I leave Rose alone too long with our new munchkin, I’ll never hear the end of it.” Baby Patricia had been born shortly before Patrick Jr. and had already stolen her daddy’s heart.
“Promise,” Brody said, “this will just take a second. I’ve got some exciting news that I hope you’ll all be happy to hear.”
“Excellent.” Hawk sat on a pile of Christmas decoration bins that had been stashed down here for storage. “Let’s hear it.”
“It’s official—” Brody’s smile was so big Patrick feared his face might break. “Kodiak Gorge Outfitters has been named the top adventure tourism company in all of Alaska.”
“That’s awesome! Congratulations, man.” Colby shook his hand, as did the other guys. “When did you find out?”
“I got the call this morning from a woman named Heather, who heads up state tourism. The public announcement will be made next week, and I guess it’ll mean a crap-ton of media coverage. Which is good, but also puts us in a bind as far as personnel, since I’m expecting business to boom. Patrick and Hawk—you’re officially managers. Lilianna’s been doing the books, so I’ll let her figure out raises.”
“Awesome,” Patrick said. “Thanks, man.”
Hawk thanked him as well.
“Since we’re a close-knit group,” Brody said, “I wanted to run this by you before offering these guys the jobs, but what would you think if I hired Ben and Jake from our old SEAL team to join the crew? Saw on our Facebook loop that they both retired.”
“Jake’s a good guy,” Colby said while playing a sniper game on his phone, “but that’s a no for me on Ben.”
“What happened back in Mogadishu is ancient history,” Brody said. “He’s a damned good tracker.”
“Yeah, and he used those skills to track us right into an ambush. Our whole team could have been killed.”
“We weren’t,” Brody said. “It could have happened to anyone.”
“I don’t trust him.”
“I like them both,” Hawk said.
“I’m good,” Patrick gave a thumbs-up.
“Tanner?” Brody asked.
“I don’t have a problem with either, but I hate voting against Colby.”
“I’ll be fine,” Colby said. “I’m just glad it’s not going to be me putting my life in the guy’s hands out in the backcountry.”
Keep reading for the first chapter of Book #5 in my
SEAL Team: Holiday Heroes series: Easter Bunny Baby
EASTER BUNNY BABY
SEAL Team: Holiday Heroes
Book Five
Laura Marie Altom
Chapter One
“GRIZZLY.” RETIRED NAVY SEAL Ben Sutton knelt before the trackway, doublechecking before standing to survey the remains of what had once been someone’s camp.
“How can you tell?” Heather asked. Eyes wide, darting back and forth, she made no effort to hide her nerves. Even her voice trembled. For an official ambassador for Alaskan tourism,
she wasn’t exactly handling their backcountry rescue mission like a seasoned pro. But in all fairness, this wasn’t an ordinary walk in the woods—especially, since the missing persons they tracked were her brother and sister-in-law.
“See how long the claws are? How the arc of the toes seem connected? Clear sign of a grizzly.”
She nodded, then hollered, “Phyllis! Greg!”
Ben and Heather, along with the rest of the Kodiak Gorge Rescue Team—Colby, Brody, Tanner, Sergei, Hawk, Patrick, and Jake—had been on the couple’s trail for the better part of three days with no sign of them. Recent snows hadn’t helped. Heather had reported them missing when they hadn’t called in as scheduled.
“Do you recognize any of this as belonging to your brother and sister-in-law?” Ben lifted the end of a shredded down sleeping bag. Feathers floated to the patchy, snow-covered ground. A collapsed blaze-orange tent along with assorted ransacked camp gear, clothes, food packaging, and a still-smoldering firepit rounded out the scene—except for one other detail he wished he could spare her from seeing.
Blood.
Everywhere.
“Greg!” she screamed on the heels of a sob. “Phyllis!” She picked up an LA Dodgers T-shirt, holding it to her nose. Her brother’s? She shouldn’t have come. None of the guys on the team had wanted her in these harsh conditions—especially since she was pregnant. Four or five months along, if he was guessing. Unfortunately, he had experience in that sort of thing. He was glad neither of them had been big on small talk.
The less he knew about her on a personal level, the better.
Ben took his walkie from his pack. “Brody? This is Ben—over.”
A few seconds later, his radio squawked. “Brody here. Find something? Over.”
St. Patrick’s Baby (SEAL Team: Holiday Heroes Book 4) Page 8