Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Be My Valentine, Baby Excerpt
Chapter One
Dear Reader
About the Author
Copyright
HAPPY NEW YEAR, BABY
SEAL Team: Holiday Heroes
Book Two
Laura Marie Altom
Chapter One
“DON’T LET HIM die, Brody. Don’t you dare let him die!”
Retired Navy SEAL, Brody Crawford, tuned out his sister-in-law’s screams. This trip had been voodoo from the start. He’d told his identical twin, Brandon, it was a bad year for ice climbing. Unseasonably warm daytime temperatures had caused too much rapid thawing, pocking the ice and making it rotten.
“Hang tight,” Brody called, his voice flat against the frozen waterfall’s five-story vertical face. Night had fallen, meaning his headlamp was the only thing keeping his twin in view. Brody had preplaced a series of belays, which Brandon and his high school and college sweetheart—now longtime wife—had systematically clipped in and out of on their ascent. The plan was to spend Christmas Eve climbing, then camp atop the falls for an optimum view of the northern lights. “Don’t move…”
The night was still save for the ice’s chilling creaks and groans.
Lilianna’s tears worsened the already bad scene. She had no business being here. Inexperienced and afraid was no way to ascend a multi-tiered beast like Kodiak Falls.
“Anna, hon, pull it together.” An anesthesiologist, Brandon never lost his cool. “Brody knows what he’s doing.”
“Shut up,” Brody said, inching closer to his idiot brother. “When I tell you not to move, I mean it. Not an inch.”
“D-don’t talk to him like that!” Her teeth chattered. Not a good sign.
For the moment, Brody ignored Lilianna’s histrionics in favor of hanging straight-armed while chipping a hole in good ice. Done, he unclipped a screw from his harness, jabbing it in at waist level for reaching maximum penetration. After two quick turns, the screw was seated, at which point the quickdraw line flowed from its chest-mount, bringing him that much closer to his brother.
The ice sheet beneath him groaned.
“Brandon…” he said from between clenched teeth while popping in another screw, feverishly setting up a fresh belay on good ice. “Don’t breathe.”
“You’re worrying for nothing. From my vantage, you’ve got about three more screws until you’re above me. Drop a line, and I’m golden.”
“H-honey…” Lilianna’s shivering had grown worse. Cold or shock? Maybe both? “Please, do what Brody says.”
Brandon laughed. “Have both of you forgotten I’m the oldest by four whole minutes? That means I’m always—”
The ice sheet cracked, slipping in a freefall that took Brandon with it. The sheer edge clipped Brandon’s Kevlar rope as if it was thread.
“Brandon! Brandon!” Lilianna’s cries warred with the horror in Brody’s head.
One minute, his brother dangled beneath him. The next—he was gone. Pulse surging, he abandoned his own line to free climb to Lilianna.
“B-Brody, do something! You have to save him!”
His heart pounded in his ears.
Adrenaline spurred him into taking suicidal risks. Brandon was already gone. Brody now had to save his brother’s wife—the same woman he’d secretly loved since they’d been kids. He wasn’t saving her for himself, but because he’d rather die himself than lose them both. Taking the spare pick from his tool belt, he moved in a fluid sideways motion, biceps and shoulders screaming.
“Y-you have to s-save him,” Lilianna said over and over until her hoarse voice made Brody physically ill. Maybe it was the overexertion, maybe it was adrenaline, maybe the shock of watching his twin fall to his death, but he hit a mental and physical wall—frozen still fifteen feet from Brandon’s wife. “Please, please save him…”
Move! his mind commanded, but his body refused to listen.
He’d told Brandon this was a busted mission.
He’d told him, but the stubborn mule refused to listen. He never listened. That time when they’d gone backcountry camping without extra ammo because Brandon said it was too heavy for their packs, they’d damn near been eaten by a pissed momma grizzly. The time they’d gone fishing in a leaky boat that Brandon promised wouldn’t sink, had indeed sunk. The twenty-yard swim to shore almost killed them both. Brandon believed he was invincible, and he usually was. He got the grades. The money. The girl. But now, what good was any of it?
“B-Brody?” Lilianna asked, her voice now thin and defeated. “Do you think there’s any chance he survived the f-fall?”
“I. Don’t. Know.”
“P-please tell me he could. He has to live. I have to give him his Christmas present.”
“What is it?” he asked out of sheer morbid curiosity. What could she possibly give his brother who had everything?
“I’m pregnant. Once we made camp, I was going to tell him we’re finally having a baby…”
Chapter Two
IT HAD BEEN a week since Brandon had crashed to his death from a hundred feet. He’d slammed so hard into the base of the frozen falls that the slab of falling ice had entombed him in a six-foot-deep shroud. Rescue team members and former Navy SEAL brothers, Colby Davis and Tanner Muldoon, had to use blowtorches to free Brandon’s body.
How ironic was it that it had been too warm to ice climb, yet now, the ground was too frozen for Brody’s twin to be properly buried till spring. Until then, after today’s ceremony, he’d be stored in his casket at the volunteer fire and rescue station’s winter body storage facility.
That fact made Brody’s current act of sitting in the town chapel all the harder to bear.
It was a closed casket ceremony, but his twin’s black coffin pointed a highly effective finger of blame.
Lilianna softly sobbed on the front row pew across the aisle.
Her entourage of mourners—Brody’s parents, Kitty and Bob, Colby’s wife Rose, and a handful of other friends—all sat squeezed together like the meat in a grief sandwich.
Nugget, a bear of a man who could usually be found cooking at Kodiak Gorge Lodge, now played the church organ with a gloomy assortment of hymns while Brandon’s friends and coworkers from various hospitals around the state filed in.
Brody clasped his hands tight, almost afraid to turn his glance anywhere but to the relative safety of his own lap. It didn’t matter that Brandon’s tragedy could be filed under the catch-all heading of “shit happens”, no doubt every soul crammed into the chapel blamed him. If only Brody had been firm enough to have never agreed to the climb. If only he’d been faster with the ice screws and setting up a fresh belay.
There were dozens—maybe hundreds—of paths he might have taken whereby his twin might still be alive. But Brody hadn’t. Brandon wasn’t.
“How you holding up?” Colby slid into the pew alongside Brody.
Tanner and another friend, Sergei Koyck, filed in after him.
“I’m not,” Brody said. The weight of losing his twin was bad enough, and coupled with the fact that he could have prevented his brother’s fall, it was too much to bear. He felt as if h
is body was near imploding beneath the weight of not just his grief but whispers and condemning stares.
This is your fault. Your negligence snatched the brightest star from our sky.
Save him! I’m pregnant!
“Give it time,” Colby said. “It’ll get better.”
Right.
“There’s nothing you could have done,” he added in a whisper, “And sorry, but Brandon could be a blow-hard.”
“Colby, stow it.” Tanner shifted his long legs in the cramped pew. “Now’s neither the time nor place.”
“It’s true,” Colby said in a low tone. “I was in Brody’s office when he told Brandon the climb was a no-go, but Brandon insisted. All three of them could have died.”
Might have been easier…
Brody squeezed his stinging eyes shut. A brick had lodged in his throat.
The service finally began.
Throughout, Brody focused beyond tall, paned windows at the gunmetal gray sky. Snow had begun to fall. The angry north wind shook the historic wooden structure.
He should have focused on each and every kind soul taking their turn to praise his twin. Brandon the golden child. Brandon the doctor. Brandon the shining hope for their entire family’s future. The two brothers may have been identical in appearance, but they couldn’t have been more different. Brandon thrived in school, whereas Brody wanted out. To see the world—but not for what most people would consider a rational reason.
Along with Colby and Tanner, straight out of high school they’d joined the Navy as an escape, only to soon have it become their lives’ calling.
For over a decade, all was good.
But over time, horror atop horror stacked in Brody’s mind until he began seeing dismembered bodies in his sleep. Behind closed eyes, blood flowed like rivers beneath his every step. Along with his medical discharge had come medals for the civilians and service members he’d saved. But that didn’t negate the fact that countless others died.
He’d returned to Kodiak Gorge defeated. Cast away from the job he’d loved. Feeling as if he’d abandoned his SEAL brothers.
Brody punished himself physically. Taking stupid risks. Free-soloing cliff faces. Daring death to take him. When it did not, and the demons in his head quieted, he’d harnessed nature’s healing energy to open his adventure guide company. With Colby’s help, he’d written a solid business plan, then presented it to Lilianna—a loan officer at Kodiak Gorge National Bank. With her help, his funding had come through. He’d forged a new future built on the principle of pushing himself and clients to their physical limits, but in a safe manner.
Sure, there were always risks, but mitigated. Aside from family events that forced him to play nice alongside his brother and his wife, life had once again been good.
Until now, when it wasn’t.
As for those feelings he secretly harbored for Lilianna?
They’d join Brandon in his grave.
“Hey…” Colby gave him a light shake. “It’s over. Need a ride to the lodge?”
Brody sharply exhaled. “Thanks, but I’m not going.”
“You have to,” Tanner said. “You can’t bail on your twin’s funeral luncheon.”
“Watch me.”
Chapter Three
WAS IT WRONG that if Lilianna had to thank one more person for their condolences, she’d scream? Yes. But that did nothing to change the fact that her life would never be the same.
No number of well-wishes could raise her husband from the dead.
In the pressing post-funeral throng, there was only one person whose gaze she sought, but Brody had turned his back on her while putting on his thick down coat. The same one he’d worn Christmas Eve. It was red. Like Brandon’s blood.
Though the crowd made the chapel’s heat oppressive, the macabre thought made her shiver. Staring at Brody across her husband’s casket, she knew she should go to him, reassure him that her fool husband had known the risks, yet had virtually bullied Brody into taking them on that fatal expedition. Of course, she wanted to blame someone—anyone—for taking the love of her life and father of her unborn child, but Brody didn’t deserve her wrath.
He was a good guy. A dear friend who’d treated her as if she were his huggable sister.
Her parents had been homesteaders who’d died in a wildfire. Separated from them at the tender age of eight, she’d survived by hiding in the horses’ watering trough. With no other family, Kitty—one of the town’s ten teachers—and her husband, Bob, took her in. She had been friends with the twins since kindergarten. Kitty had made a pink haven for Lilianna in the guest room alongside the master bedroom. The brothers slept upstairs.
For as long as she could remember, Lilianna, Brandon, and Brody had been a tight unit.
Then the night of their junior prom, Brody had secretly kissed her. But then Brandon publicly staked his claim. Nothing was ever the same.
After high school, Brody practically vanished. She and Brandon attended the University of Alaska in Anchorage, where they became even better friends and lovers. He’d made a graduation day proposal and of course, she’d accepted.
Brody had been overseas the day of their wedding. He’d sent the only card he could get his hands on—Happy 3rd Birthday! Inside, he’d written, Have a great wedding.
Call it woman’s intuition, but she’d always wondered if Brandon hadn’t made his flashy move before all their friends, might Brody have been the one for her? Ever since Brandon marked her as his, there’d been no going back.
The quieter bond she’d always shared with Brody silently faded.
While she put her business degree to good use at an Anchorage bank, Brandon was accepted to the university’s WWAMI medical school program. Life had been hectic, but sweet. She could count on one hand the amount of times she’d seen Brody in those years—even less when Brandon started his residency.
But then Brandon graduated, and they’d moved home.
Finally, they’d found the pot of gold at the end of the proverbial rainbow, only the gold wasn’t about monetary treasure, but reuniting with family and lifelong friends. After Brody’s discharge, Brandon helped him recover from physical and emotional wounds.
Brody moved into the guest apartment above the garage, and all had been right in Lilianna’s world—all except for how badly she’d wanted a baby.
As much as she adored Bob and Kitty, she missed having blood-relations to call her own. Becoming pregnant was to have been the ultimate cherry atop her familial sundae. The fact that she’d never even been able to share the blessed news with Brandon made his death even harder to bear.
“Poor thing.” Kitty slipped her arm around Lilianna’s waist, leading her toward the chapel’s exit. “You look like a lost fawn.”
“I already grabbed her coat.” Bob held it up for Lilianna to ease her arms through. As if she were a small child, she did, grateful for their help, but oddly unable to speak. They were mourning, too. Who was helping them?
Rose approached, carrying both her and Lilianna’s black purses. She and Colby had been kind enough to drive them to the ceremony. “Sweetie, are you sure you’re up for the luncheon?”
Lilianna somehow nodded.
For the sake of her baby, she had to pull herself together. To find a way to live without her soul. She had to force herself back into her daily grind, simply put one foot in front of the other until existing once again felt natural. Her son or daughter deserved to have a whole mother. They needed her to tell them about the wonderful man their father had been.
“Hon, I was so sorry to hear this horrible news.” Dot, a longtime family friend and colorful eccentric who ran Global Oil’s pipeline station, wrapped Lilianna in a bear hug. “Is there anything at all I can do?”
Bring back my husband. Fighting fresh tears, Lilianna shook her head.
HOURS LATER, LILIANNA was finally home. Only without Brandon, the monstrous place they’d purchased with Brandon’s lucrative signing bonus was no longer a home, but had been
downgraded to just another house.
Despite still wearing her long wool coat, she shivered in the massive cathedral-ceilinged space. She managed to turn up the central heat, but then wandered the living room, picking up souvenirs here and there, touching them as if reassuring herself that Brandon truly had existed. A mini-Colosseum from their adventure in Rome. A tiny stuffed llama from fourteen days in Peru. And pictures. So many framed photos that the rage, frustration and sorrow inside made her want to hurl against the towering windows overlooking the gasp-worthy Kodiak Gorge view.
Because of his own bullish pride, Brandon would never know he’d finally be a father. There had been so much she wanted to say—sharing hopes and dreams for their shared future that would now never come.
How would she find strength to reassemble her shattered life?
Were Brandon here, he’d start a fire to ward off the chill. Having lived in Alaska her whole life, of course Lilianna knew how to light a fire, but she and her husband each served different household roles. She’d cooked or ordered food to-go from the lodge. Brandon had lit cozy fires in their hearth, ordered firewood, and when needed, called their handyman to make repairs. Most nights they’d shared dinner on the big leather sofa, watching movies or simply the dancing flames, sharing dreams of how their lives would change with children.
Other than occasional emergencies, Brandon’s surgical schedule had been nearly as predictable as her work at the bank. Though the town wasn’t large, the area they served was enormous. She never seemed caught up with application processing.
At the funeral, her boss and friend, Trace Stanton, had urged her to take all the time she needed to grieve, but what did that even mean?
More time alone in this tomb?
No, thank you.
Realizing she’d been holding the same framed photo of Brandon posing with a stingray on last year’s trip to the Caymans for at least ten minutes, Lilianna returned the photo to its place on top of artfully stacked mountain climbing books, then turned to the kitchen.
Happy New Year, Baby Page 1