by Geri Krotow
“Yes, you are.” Gwen envied Ro’s bliss but didn’t feel like joining in the happy dance.
“Gwen, I’m not telling you this to brag. I’m telling you because no matter how ugly it might look with Drew, I still believe you two have unfinished business. You know I was the first to want to cut off his testicles when you thought he cheated on you.”
“Yes. We’ve already been through this. But he never cheated on me with Lizzie.”
“So we both understand that there’ll always be Lizzies—and Opals—who go after good-looking, decent men like ours?”
“Sure.” Except that Drew was no longer hers. And she and Drew were never going to be back where Ro and Miles were now.
There was no hope for them. His kisses still burn.
And she still wanted him, painfully so.
“What’s eating you, Gwen?”
Gwen waved her hand.
“He’s facing murder, or at least negligent homicide, charges. Dottie Forsyth drowned.”
Ro frowned at Gwen. “You’ve never stopped loving him.”
“What does that have to do with Drew being charged with murder?”
“You care. You’re scared shitless that he’s going to take the rap for this. I think you’re more scared of that than of not getting Pax.”
Gwen shifted in her seat and stared out at the sea. “I had a lot of time to think about things when I wasn’t getting bitten by creepy-crawlies. I even thought maybe I’d come back and tell Drew what I’d figured out, that I’d had an epiphany about us. But then I found Pax, and I realized Pax is the child I’m supposed to have. I never agreed to start a family with Drew, and I can’t expect him to be Pax’s father. Not only that, I don’t deserve him, and it’d be best if he met someone else he could begin a new life with.”
Before Ro could speak, Gwen went on. “But now he’s in trouble. The least I can do is try to help him.” Ro put her hand on Gwen’s arm.
“Honey, you’ve got to stop this. First, if you even think you might still love Drew, you can’t throw that away. You know he’s not a murderer. You also have a child you hope to welcome home soon. He’s going to need a daddy—one who’s not in the brig. And despite what you’re assuming, Drew might want to take on that role.”
Gwen grunted. “It’s not that clear-cut, Ro. I do plan to help Drew, but I don’t expect it to bring about a miracle.”
“I thought you didn’t care?”
“I don’t.” She didn’t.
She couldn’t.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“WE TOLD YOU in no uncertain terms that there weren’t any guarantees with your adoption request, Commander Brett.” The State Department official’s voice over the phone was compassionate, but it didn’t lessen the tightness of Gwen’s heart. Councillor Darlene Tatem had been so warm and enthusiastic about the adoption when Gwen had briefly met her at the American Embassy in Manila.
It made the woman’s message more dire.
“Yes, you did, but you also said it wasn’t impossible to adopt from the Philippines. Considering that Pax has no relatives—”
“That’s the point, ma’am. Several people have approached us, claiming he’s related to them.”
“Trust me. Anyone related to him perished in the most horrible manner. The village was a five-day hike from the nearest town. We’re talking about one of the most remote places on earth. Where are these supposed family members from?”
“Manila.”
Rage snarled through Gwen and she fought to maintain control.
“You and I know that this is about money, a chance for a step up out of poverty. I’m the only mother Pax has had since he was six weeks old. Mia,” she said, referring to the elderly woman who’d hidden her and Pax for a month, “knew all of his family. She told me there was no one else, that they’d all been killed.”
“Yes, but she told you this through her granddaughter, who’d come back from her overseas job, Commander. You admitted that the granddaughter’s English was subpar. There’s no way of knowing if what Mia said was interpreted correctly.”
“What are the odds that Pax would have relatives thousands of miles from where he was born, in a culture where family is so close-knit?”
She heard the councillor’s sigh. “Slim, but he’s Filipino, as are they. You’re the outsider.”
“The outsider who saved his life from insurgent monsters!”
The line was silent and Gwen knew she’d hit the wall with Councillor Tatem. The woman wasn’t more than five or ten years her senior, yet she sounded like some kind of deity issuing a harsh moral lesson.
“I’m sorry,” Gwen muttered. “This is the hardest thing I’ve ever been through.”
Besides the failure of her marriage to Drew, besides watching him face murder charges, but that was none of the councillor’s business.
“I understand. I— We’re on your side, Gwen. The Ambassador has weighed in to minimize the perception that you’re trying to keep the child as some kind of token of your experience here.”
“He’s not a souvenir, Councilor Tatem. He’s my son.”
A vision of Pax’s huge brown eyes, his bubbling laughter as she tickled his tummy, enveloped her.
One thing being in the jungle had taught her—nothing happened if she didn’t fight for it.
“I’m not saying you won’t get Pax, Gwen. It’s going to take longer, that’s all. Let me see what I can do.” Gwen heard the rustle of papers, the click of a keyboard, as though she and the councillor were in the same room and not on phones ten thousand miles apart.
“Thank you. I know this isn’t your fault. I’ll do whatever it takes to give Pax the home he deserves.”
She hung up and faced her biggest fear: never seeing Pax again.
* * *
DREW SAT ACROSS from Gwen in the restaurant where he’d agreed to meet her on her lunch break. She’d steadily increased her hours at the squadron and planned to go back to work afterward.
“Thanks for meeting me. I figured you needed to get out of the clinic.”
His silence worried her.
“What is it, Drew?”
“I’m going to move out, Gwen.”
“Give me a break. If anyone needs to move out, it’s me.”
Drew’s face was lined with stress as he sat across from her in the small retro-style diner. Gwen had to talk to him in a neutral location. After she’d finished her conversation with the State Department official, she’d called and asked him to meet her.
“It’s only fair. Living with me is not going to help with your adoption proceedings. If I thought remarrying you for legal purposes would make a difference, I’d do it in a heartbeat. But the game’s changed, Gwen. You stand to lose Pax if you stay with me.”
She took a gulp of her almond latte to cover her nervous swallow. Remarry? Had he just said that?
Had her stomach flipped in hope?
“I know,” she murmured. “These are crazy times.”
“Crazy, unfair, messed up.” His hands gripped the sides of his glass of water; his lunch was hardly touched.
“You’ve done more than enough for me, Drew. I wouldn’t have made it to a command tour without you. I probably wouldn’t have survived this last month back on Whidbey with my mind intact.” She leaned toward him. “So let me be here for you. Let me stay until Dottie’s case is resolved.”
“This isn’t your fight, Gwen.”
“Helping me reenter and get back on my feet wasn’t your fight, either. But you did it.”
“And you’re doing well. I’m perfectly happy to move out until you find an apartment.”
“You’re not moving out, and neither am I. How would it look if I moved out now? Or if you did? Like I didn’t believe in your innocence. You need s
omeone to back you up. I’m standing by you. It’s not going to make a difference as far as the situation with Pax is concerned. At this point it’s a question of whether any of his ‘relatives’ are real.” She put her hands on top of his. “Don’t you get it? I have complete faith in you.”
He stared at her hands for a long moment before he raised his bloodshot, world-weary gaze to hers.
“Why?”
“Because in the time it took me to find my way out of the jungle, I discovered there are more things to life than a career. I don’t give a damn if I get another promotion. I’m ready to take an easy shore tour after I finish command, and get out after that.”
Drew’s eyes widened, but he quickly recovered his noncommittal expression. She had to give him credit; he was in his own hell with the clinic and yet he still seemed to care about what she was telling him. “You’re willing to stand by me even after I practically attacked you the first day you were back?”
“It wasn’t like that. I wanted it, too.”
The memory of her first days back weren’t bad ones. She and Drew had needed to reach out to each other, for different reasons that added up to the right thing for both of them. She’d needed to feel human again, like the woman she’d once been.
“Why did you do it, Drew? I know I let it happen because I had nothing left. I was afraid I’d turned into some kind of subhuman, existing on so little for so long. I honestly don’t know how I survived, much less with Pax in my arms. Being with you so soon—having sex with you—made me feel normal much sooner than I could have any other way. There are songs written about sexual healing, you know.”
He nodded once. “I was glad you were alive. I was overwhelmed by it, by you. To have you back in the house, to see that you were still you, still whole, it turned into a need to be with you.”
She had called it sex, he called it be with you. Neither of them said anything about love. But that kiss in the kitchen—she didn’t want to bring it up. Nor the one in the garage...
“We don’t have to solve it all now, Gwen. I know it’s hard for you to understand, but even before Dottie died I’d realized that as much as I love my work, it isn’t everything to me. It doesn’t define me.”
“I understand more than you realize, Drew.”
He stretched his arm across the table and held his hand out to her, palm up.
“Give me your hand, Gwen.”
After a heartbeat, she placed her hand in his. She was acutely aware of every place their palms connected. Of his pulse, steady under her fingers. Of the firmness of his grip. The warmth generated by their hands moved up her arm and to her throat, breasts, to her insides.
She looked from their intertwined fingers to him.
His gaze had never left her face. His eyes radiated a heat that was at once familiar but also a little frightening. Drew had become the man she’d envisioned when she’d said “I do” as a twenty-something with navy stars in her sights and love for her groom in her heart. Her stupid, foolish, naive heart.
“Drew.”
“We’ll figure it out, Gwen. We play by our own rules, though, okay? The hell with whatever anyone else is saying or doing. I may end up accused of homicide, you may not end up getting your baby, but we’ll work on it together. No more stress over the hows and whys our marriage didn’t work. It didn’t, and it’s over.” She tried to pull her hand out of his but he held firm. “The marriage we had is over. Our friendship is better, deeper, after only a month of being together. We can work this out so that we give each other what we never could before. Our trust, our promise that we’ll work together as friends regardless of the outcome for either of us.”
She closed her eyes, fighting tears. Why the hell did she want to cry now? This was good. Really. Friendship was a safe place to be with Drew.
Wasn’t it?
Because her stupid, foolish heart was no longer naive. She couldn’t risk even a whisper of hope that she and Drew would ever again be more than friends.
“Gwen?”
She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “We are friends, Drew. The best of friends.”
He nodded. “I’m willing to let you be here for me through the inevitable—at the very least a civil trial. If, and only if, it works out, will you consider allowing me to help you with Pax? I’m not asking to be a father figure, but the friend you’ll need to establish a life as a single mother.”
Now Gwen nodded. “Okay. Deal.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A WEEK LATER Gwen pulled into the driveway with the confidence of a woman who’d climbed Mt. Everest.
She’d managed her first month back at the squadron without a hitch. Her exhaustion could still surprise her at the end of a few hours, but her good spirits enabled her to enjoy her shortened workday. Not bad for only two months out of the bush.
Of course she knew the real reason for her sunny mood had nothing to do with surviving her time in the PI or her role as a commanding officer. For the first time in forever, she and Drew had a pact—a real, bona fide commitment to each other. She’d help him get cleared of any wrongdoing in the Forsyth case, and he’d help her with the adoption if necessary.
Rhododendrons were blooming all over the island. Large blossoms of pale yellow, fuchsia, cardinal-red and winter-white covered every neighborhood and portions of the base as the Washington State flower came into season.
When she parked behind Drew’s car, she noticed another, smaller car around the curve of their driveway.
Cole Ramsey.
Hadn’t his last visit been enough?
“Son of a pile of puppies.” She grabbed her tote bag from the passenger seat and opened her door. Drew needed her if Ramsey was here.
“Hey, girlfriend.”
She stifled a groan.
“Hi, Opal.” Gwen eased out of the car and stood next to Opal. Opal was short and Gwen got a perverse satisfaction out of towering over her too-friendly neighbor.
“Long day after I saw you this morning?” Gwen had stopped at Opal’s coffee shack before work. It was important to show that she’d accepted Opal as a woman who’d love to have a relationship with Drew, although Drew wasn’t interested. She was no longer a threat, and besides, it was the most convenient place to get a cup of coffee on the way to base.
“No, not at all. Anything I can do for you, Opal? I have to go inside.”
“I’ll walk in with you. I’ve brought some extra scones from the shop. They’re marionberry, the kind Drew likes. You can freeze them and then heat them up in your toaster oven.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll take them off your hands now. Drew’s in an important meeting.”
Opal looked at Ramsey’s car and frowned. “Who with?”
None of your business.
“I have to go in,” she said again.
Realization dawned on Opal’s face. “Fine, don’t tell me. I’m sure Drew will fill me in later.”
What the hell? “You may be right, Opal.”
“Well, don’t let me stop you, Gwen. Here, take the scones, and tell Drew I’m sorry I couldn’t chat today.”
“Sure.”
Gwen took the scones and left Opal in the driveway.
* * *
ANXIETY GRIPPED HER as soon as she saw Drew.
He sat at the dining-room table with Ramsey, his head in his hands.
Cole looked up at Gwen and motioned for her to sit down, next to Drew.
Gwen dropped her bag and the scones onto the granite kitchen counter and slid into the oak chair. She folded her hands in her lap.
“What’s going on?”
“Drew is named in Dottie Forsyth’s will. She left him a not insubstantial amount of cash.”
“What’s not insubstantial?”
Cole named the sum and Gw
en’s shock made her sit up straight.
“Why on earth did she do that?” She turned to Drew, who remained silent.
“Cole’s trying to tell you it gives me a motive for killing Dottie.”
“Oh, crap.”
“Yeah, oh, crap.” Drew sighed. “I never treated her any differently from my other patients.”
“Which is with respect, kindness and hope. You give all your patients hope that they’ll get better, or at least maintain where they are.”
“It didn’t do Dottie any good.”
Gwen shot Cole a look. He wasn’t playing the hard-boiled detective; his compassion for Drew’s situation was palpable.
“Knock it off, Drew. We have to get to the bottom of this.”
She returned her attention to Cole. “Are we absolutely positive it was murder?”
“No, but it’s likely, and a jury would probably see it that way.”
“So we have to find out who killed her and why. Who are her other relatives?”
Cole managed a smile. “I’m on it, Gwen. It’s my job, remember?”
“If it’s your job, then why are you in here telling him this instead of out there finding who did it?” Her voice rose on the last few words.
“Drew needed to hear it in private first, before it hits the press. It’s going to be all over the internet and local news and you two won’t be able to leave the house without a camera flashing in your face.”
“Great.” Gwen hated how shrewish she sounded.
“I’m sorry for imposing on your exile,” Drew said with a cynicism she’d never heard before.
“I’m not worried about me, Drew.” Looking at Ramsey again, she said, “This is insane. You know Drew is innocent, and you think someone’s trying to frame him. Now he’s getting big bucks from Dottie. Does she have her family mentioned in the will?”
Ramsey frowned. “Yes, her kids and stepson are splitting the bulk of her estate. She left her house to her niece Serena.”
“That gives all of them motive to kill her. Not just Drew.”
“Yeah, but even if they all had motive, most of them didn’t have means,” Drew said. “Besides, she died on my watch, Gwen.”