The SEAL's Second Chance Baby

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The SEAL's Second Chance Baby Page 18

by Laura Marie Altom


  “I’d like to.” She sat next to Colt, then used a napkin to wipe milk from his chin. “But he didn’t ask me. A bunch of his old SEAL friends and their wives are in town. They have catching up to do. He probably doesn’t even want me around. Besides, I should stay here with our patient.”

  “Don’t be silly. Of course Marsh wants you with him. Come Saturday, his friends will officially be yours, too.”

  “Ever since the accident, he’s seemed distant.” She swirled her cereal in the bowl. “We’ve talked, but in passing. It’s weird.”

  “Mom?” Colt squirmed to face her. “Are all aliens green?”

  “What?” She couldn’t help but laugh. “Where do you come up with this stuff?”

  He pointed at his cereal box, where a cute green alien danced with a leprechaun.

  “Oh—well, I’d say yes. Definitely.”

  “Grandma Mabel, do you think so, too?”

  “Hmm...” She tapped her pen against her paper pad. “I was out in the barn a few years back and saw a purple one, so I would have to say no. Aliens are not just green, but purple, too.”

  “Really?” His eyes widened.

  Effie laughed. “Put your bowl in the sink and brush your teeth. I’ve got enough to do around here without you missing the bus.”

  “Okay.” He pouted his way to the sink and then out of the room.

  “Relax,” Mabel said when Effie couldn’t stop jiggling her cereal spoon. “Everything’s going to work out fine.”

  Lips pressed tight, Effie nodded. From your lips to God’s ears.

  * * *

  “WHERE’S YOUR BRIDE?” Rowdy asked while Marsh fished a second Coors from the cooler. The bachelor party had been set up beneath the pull-out canopy of the RV the old gang was staying in. Grady had parked it alongside Wallace’s house and the women had set out tiki torches and made a Tex-Mex feast to match the country music. Wallace was in his element, flirting with the ladies with Rocket the cat on his lap. “We were all looking forward to meeting her.”

  “I thought she had her bachelorette party tonight, but turns out she’s staying home with her boy.”

  “Man, that had to be tough. Poor little dude. He’s doing all right?” Rowdy finished his beer and reached for another.

  “Oh, sure. He’s great. You know kids. They bounce right back.” Unless they die. The morose thought hit from left field and damn near dropped Marsh to his knees. He missed Effie. He needed her but couldn’t figure out what to say. How did he apologize for falling apart on her when she’d needed him most? He’d been a wreck after Remington’s fall. Marsh was ashamed of the way he’d frozen. She deserved a man who was strong 24/7—so did her kids.

  “I’m beginning to think this woman of yours is imaginary,” Cooper teased.

  “Ha-ha.” Marsh wanted nothing more than to down a few more beers, then fall asleep and wake to once again feel normal. But hell, did he even remember what normal was?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Marsh? When a car crunched onto the dirt drive at seven that night, Effie hoped it was her man. The longer they went without talking, the more her stomach churned.

  “Who could that be?” Mabel put down her knitting to go to the door. “I don’t recognize the car.”

  Effie finished folding a pair of shorts and joined Mabel. Cassidy had thankfully gone to bed early and Colt and Remington played Xbox in their room.

  “It’s Patricia.” Effie opened the door to be ambushed by three of her PTA friends—and her mom—spilling from the supersized SUV with presents and balloons and a cake.

  “Surprise!” they all hollered.

  “What in the world?” Effie dashed across the porch to greet all of them. She wore yoga pants and a T-shirt. Her hair was up in a lopsided bun. “I thought we were postponing the shower?”

  “We are, but we had to do something to celebrate. Since you two brides will be busy with the rehearsal dinner tomorrow, we figured this was the perfect time to check in on you and make sure you’re all squared away for your big day.”

  “How are you, sugar?” Effie’s mom, Melissa, wrapped her in a much-needed hug. “Holding up okay? You’ve got an awfully full plate.”

  “Tell me about it.” She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed her parents until having them both here. They’d been a godsend in helping Remington get settled when he came home from the hospital.

  Once all of the women squeezed into the tiny house, someone turned on a boom box with ’90s rock and Colt wandered out of his room to check on the commotion.

  Melissa cut pieces of cake for him and his brother, then sent him back to his room.

  After champagne and laughing over naughty gag gifts and too many servings of cake, Effie felt a thousand percent better.

  “There’s your smile.” Melissa slipped her arm around Effie’s shoulders for a squeeze. “When your dad and I met Marsh this afternoon at the Grange Hall, we couldn’t have been more impressed. We think he’ll make a fine dad for Cass and your boys, and an even better husband for you.”

  “I think so, too.” Effie beamed. Maybe it was the champagne or a sugar high or the simple joy of being surrounded by family and friends—regardless, she suddenly couldn’t wait to meet Marsh at the end of the Rock Chapel’s aisle.

  But before that, they’d at least have Friday night’s rehearsal dinner, where they’d have plenty of time to talk.

  I hope.

  * * *

  EFFIE SAT ALONGSIDE Marsh at an endless table in B & B BBQ’s private dining room, yet they’d hardly spoken two words. The country music was too loud, and the hard surfaces made conversation with anyone not seated in close proximity nearly impossible. Beneath the table, he’d cupped his hand to her thigh, which was nice, and made her look forward to their mini honeymoon to Aspen—courtesy of her parents, who would stay behind at Mabel’s to watch the kids—but Effie wanted more.

  Two seats down, Melissa currently had hold of Cassidy and showed no sign of letting go.

  “Not hungry?” Marsh asked, eyeing her still-full plate of smoked brisket, beans and slaw.

  She shook her head.

  “Mind if I have your meat?”

  “Go for it.”

  He picked up her plate to slide the beef onto his. “I’d forgotten how good this place is.” He ate a few more forkfuls. “Remington’s looking good. His color’s back.”

  “I noticed. If he wasn’t getting around so much better, we probably should have postponed the wedding—at least our portion.” She glanced to the table’s end, where the twins sat with Scotty and a few of their other friends who’d tagged along with their parents. Marsh had rented Remington a wheelchair, which made it easier to transport him wherever he needed to go.

  “We still can if you want.” He drowned his meat in spicy sauce.

  “Is that what you want?” Her appetite was long gone.

  “No. I’m just saying...” He ate faster than ever.

  “Marsh, if you’re not feeling this marriage, you’d tell me, right? You wouldn’t go through with it just out of a sense of obligation or because you promised the boys you wouldn’t leave?”

  “Drop it, okay? I’m good. Want your slaw?” He nodded to her plate.

  She shoved it in his direction. “Eat it all.”

  “Thanks.”

  What happened to the romantic spark that had practically crackled between them the day he’d proposed? They’d made out behind his truck in her grandmother’s driveway. Effie could have kissed him forever. Now, she’d just as soon land a swift kick to his derriere. Why wouldn’t he open up to her? Clearly, something was bothering him. Or was she back to overanalyzing, and he was just really hungry?

  “Marsh?”

  “Hmm?” he asked around his latest bite.

  “Do
you love me?” For that matter, do I love you? In a roundabout way, she’d inferred to his mother she did, but deep down, Effie wasn’t sure how she really felt—especially with him now being so cold.

  He swallowed wrong, coughed, then reached for his beer. “Hate when that happens.”

  She was on the verge of asking him again when Wallace stood, then clinked his steak knife against his beer mug.

  “Pardon the interruption, folks, but I’d like to make a toast.”

  Conversations quieted and a waitress killed the music.

  The sudden silence was a treat.

  “Some of you I’ve only recently had the pleasure of meeting, while others—” he smiled at his daughter “—I’ve known literally since the day you were born. All of you might think it’s silly for an old-as-dirt guy like me to be hosting a great big wedding, but to my defense, I love my Mabel with all my heart and figure what better way to shout that news to the world—or, at least our corner of it—than by hosting a party the folks around here will never forget. Now, just when I thought my heart couldn’t feel more full, my grandson and Mabel’s granddaughter finally realized what my fiancée and I have known from the start—those two kids are crazy about each other, so we figured why not kill two birds with one big old stone by getting them hitched, too.”

  The crowd erupted with applause and some awws.

  “Guess what I’m trying to say in a roundabout way is that I love you, Mabel. I love you, Marsh. And sweet Effie, I’ve come to love you and your boys and precious daughter just as much as if you were my own. If the good Lord sees fit, I’ll have plenty of time left with all of you. If not, I don’t want a single solitary one of you having any doubts as to how much I care...” He teared up.

  “I love you, too.” Mabel rose to give him a hug and her monogrammed hankie.

  Not for the first time, Effie envied the easy romance Wallace and Mabel shared. She and Marsh felt complicated. As if he still had many layers for her to peel back before fully meeting the man in his entirety.

  “Kiss, kiss!” the crowd chanted.

  Of course Wallace and Mabel were quick to oblige.

  Marsh put down his fork and eyed her for an awkward few heartbeats longer than she’d have liked. Anticipation bubbled in her chest until she feared she might pop.

  When he finally leaned in to kiss her, he tasted of BBQ sauce and that special something she’d learned to recognize as him. Her body craved him, yearned for him, and despite their audience, she wouldn’t have been opposed to taking the chaste kiss deeper. But all too soon, Marsh’s focus returned to finishing off her plate.

  The only thing she could swallow were tears.

  What was she getting herself into? Was it prewedding jitters that had Marsh so on edge? After the ceremony, would their easy friendship return? What if it didn’t? How would she survive not only the shame, but the heartache of another divorce?

  “Hey...” She looked up from wringing her white cloth napkin to find him brushing silent tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “Stop that. You look too pretty for tears.” He kissed her again. This time, with enough pressure to let her know he cared.

  A silent, relieved shudder rippled through her. Finally, she could relax. He might not know how to say it, but he’d just showed her what her body had been waiting all week to hear—he did care for her every bit as much as she cared for him. For now, that was all she needed to know.

  * * *

  “YOU TWO LOOK BEAUTIFUL.” In the chapel’s minuscule bridal suite, twenty minutes before the six o’clock double wedding was scheduled to begin, Melissa held Cassidy on her hip and a fresh tissue in her hand to dab her eyes in the event of a tear emergency.

  “Thank you, Mom.” Effie had expected to be a bundle of nerves, but she actually felt a wondrous, all-consuming calm. Today was her wedding day, and she refused to let anything bring her down. Her dress fit to perfection and the hairdresser had looped and swirled her hair into a romantic crown of curls. Effie had never felt more beautiful and couldn’t wait for Marsh to see her. “I love you.”

  “Love you, too, sweetheart. I’m so relieved Remington felt up to coming. Looks like your ceremonies will go off without a hitch.”

  “Not if I can’t get this last button done,” Mabel said.

  “That’s why I’m here.” Melissa tackled the job. “To help.”

  “Where are my bridesmaids?” Mabel asked.

  “Your wedding planner didn’t want you and Effie feeling crushed, so she corralled them into a tent on the side of the building to distribute the flowers and do last-minute hair and makeup touches.”

  Mabel sighed. “What am I forgetting?”

  “Do you have your something blue?” Melissa asked.

  “My garter.”

  “New?” Effie asked.

  “Racy underwear.” Mabel winked.

  “Borrowed?” Melissa asked.

  “That’s it. I plumb forgot.”

  “Take this.” Melissa tugged a crystal pin from her hair, slipping it into her mother’s sassy style. “But I do want it back.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Mabel winked, then deeply inhaled. “Ladies, are we ready?”

  They stood in a circle, holding hands. Four generations of strong women. Effie couldn’t help but think forward with a pang to Cassidy’s future wedding day. She prayed Mabel would still be with them.

  Effie nodded. “I’m ready if you are.”

  Melissa handed them each their fragrant old-fashioned pale orange rose-and-chrysanthemum bouquets before they headed to the chapel’s vestibule. She took a seat in the front pew, holding Cassidy on her lap, while Effie’s father waited with the boys to help give her away.

  All traces of Remington’s accident had been cleaned, and Colt stood alongside his brother’s wheelchair. The pony plan had been ditched in favor of the boys stepping forward to give their mother away. But first, it was Mabel’s turn.

  The wedding planner ushered in the bridesmaids in their pumpkin-toned dresses. They all looked lovely with fall-themed bouquets filled with colorful mums and ivy.

  The pews had been adorned with swags of mums and ivy and tulle, and on the altar sat a floral arch made of the same. There were also heart-shaped ivy topiaries and hundreds and hundreds of glowing candles.

  A harpist began the wedding march and Effie stood back with the boys to watch her grandmother marry.

  Marsh looked stoic, yet beyond handsome in his role as Wallace’s best man.

  Mabel insisted it would be bad luck for Effie to see Marsh before their ceremony, so she’d promoted a bridesmaid to the role of matron of honor.

  Once Wallace and Mabel were pronounced husband and wife, they paraded down the aisle to make way for Effie.

  As the harpist played the bridal march for the second time, Effie fought her hands’ light tremble.

  “Ready?” she asked her father and the boys.

  “Only if you are,” her dad said. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you, Dad.” She hugged him, and the boys agreed that she looked extra-especially pretty. “Sorry you’re having to give me away again.”

  “No worries. Marsh and I got to talk quite a bit this afternoon, and he seems like he’s got a good head on his shoulders. If I were a betting man, I’d put money on this marriage being one that’ll stick.”

  She laughed and cried.

  “Stop that blubbering.” He offered her a tissue. “Your mom said she’d have my hide if I said or did anything that ruined your makeup.”

  She laughed some more, and then her big moment finally arrived. The boys preceded her, with Colt pushing his brother’s wheelchair. Her father strode behind them. She took her time with her walk, making sure she forever imprinted Marsh’s handsome, stoic features in her mind.

  Not until t
his very moment did she realize that for all of her tiptoeing around the issue of loving him, she did. She loved him with every bit of her heart—a good thing, she thought with a secret smile, considering she was on the verge of marrying the man.

  She finally reached the altar, where the minister asked, “Who gives this woman’s hand in marriage?”

  “We do,” her boys and father loudly said in practiced unison.

  All present shared a good-natured chuckle.

  Effie hugged her father one last time as a single woman, then took a deep breath before grasping the outstretched hands of Marsh, the man with whom she would happily spend the rest of her life.

  * * *

  MARSH COULDN’T BREATHE.

  He tried focusing on Effie—how beautiful she looked in her dress, and the way her smile lit her eyes to the angelic blue green to which he’d first been drawn.

  He tried...but failed.

  All his brain allowed him to see was Remington, not in his wheelchair, but lying on the floor with blood pooling around him. So much blood. It was everywhere. What if he couldn’t save him? What if just like Tucker, Remington died, too? How would Marsh ever explain that loss to Effie? He’d always considered himself to be a strong man, but if he’d been unable to bear losing his son, how would she cope with losing hers? Worse yet, Marsh would have been solely to blame. He’d bought the damned ponies in the first place. He should have known better. The twins were too young.

  Thoughts raced faster and faster through his mind until he had to fight to keep himself from making a scene by covering his ears with his hands.

  The ringing had grown so loud it hurt.

  What was happening? He saw the minister’s lips move, and then Effie’s, but he couldn’t hear their voices.

  Finally, a voice broke through, but it was his own. “I-I’m sorry,” he said to Effie. “I can’t do this.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, tone laced with concern. “Are you sick? What’s wrong?”

  Marsh couldn’t vocalize what he could only feel—that he wasn’t fit to become a father to her precious baby girl and sons. And so instead of talking, he ran.

 

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