The SEAL's Valentine (Operation: Family)

by Altom, Laura Marie

  Leaning against the counter while she filled a clear blue vase with water, he said, “Not that it’s my business, but Mack didn’t leave you financially okay?”

  She laughed. “Um, no. Upon his death, his assets were frozen. Authorities seized the house, but let me keep his pricey car. I sold it, but after the funeral, paying creditors and legal fees to prove I hadn’t been involved in any of Mack’s schemes, there’s hardly anything left. Soon as the baby’s born, I need a job.”

  He winced. “Good ones aren’t easy to come by around here. Partly why I went into the navy.”

  “If I didn’t have Cayden, and his baby sister on the way, I would consider that route.” She set the flowers on the center of the kitchen table. They looked pretty. “Can you believe I used to keep a florist on speed dial? Our St. Louis home had a grand foyer with a center table. Mack liked it topped with a giant vase of fresh flowers—the kind you’d see in a hotel lobby.”

  Tristan whistled. “Too bad you can’t have a little of that cash back in your pocket.”

  “No kidding,” Brynn said with a sad chuckle. She forced a breath and smile then changed the subject. “It’s a gorgeous night. Wanna take a pregnant lady for a walk before her rowdy kid comes home?”

  “I’d be honored.” Always a gentleman, he offered her his arm.

  She politely declined.

  * * *

  NOT WANTING TO GIVE CAYDEN the wrong idea about possibly becoming a regular fixture in the little boy’s home, Tristan left before Vivian dropped him off.

  Back at his mom’s, he found a note about her being at one of her friends’, playing bunko. He nuked the dinner she’d left in the fridge, then settled into his dad’s old recliner to watch the Cards take on the Cubs.

  The more he heard about Mack, the more disappointed he grew in his old friend. Mack had been given the world on a proverbial platter. Dream job. Amazing wife. Cute, smart kid. Where had it all gone wrong?

  But then he supposed the same could be asked about Tristan’s own life. Or could it? For years, he’d beaten himself up over the breakup of his marriage, but he hadn’t been the one leaving. Andrea knew going into their relationship that he didn’t exactly have an ordinary job. Why had she waited until they’d had a child to cry foul?

  His mom came home, handing him a plate of cookies before settling in to her nightly crafts and reality shows.

  When Tristan felt more focused on figuring out where he’d gone wrong with his ex than watching the game, he wandered into the room his mom called her “Lady Lair.” When he’d been a kid, it’d been a guest room, but all of the visiting dowager aunts had died and he was glad Donna had found a new use for the good-size space.

  “What’s up?” she asked when he stood in the doorway.

  “I don’t know.” Raking his fingers through his too long hair, he sighed. “Somehow, I ended up back at Brynn’s again and she talked about her finances. Seems like Mack left her in a pretty bad spot. Which got me to thinking where he’d gone off course.”

  “Good question,” she murmured with a row of straight pins clamped between her lips. The project of the week was dolls for a Shreveport women’s shelter. She’d formed an assembly line of dress pieces nearly ready to sew. “He was raised pretty much the same as the rest of you. Maybe the big city and all that attention went to his head?”

  “I guess.” Tristan sat on a dainty floral upholstered armchair that made him feel oversize and awkward. “But I guess the point I was getting to is that he had it all and threw it away. As great a gal as Brynn is, that made me mad. But on the flip side, is that what I did with Andrea? She begged me, for the sake of our family, to quit the navy and I wouldn’t do it. Now I’m so torn up over her taking Jack, I’m not even fit for duty.”

  “First,” she said over the sewing machine’s hum, “any woman who marries a serviceman knows up front what she’s getting into. I died a million deaths when your dad was in Vietnam, but that didn’t give me permission to quit on our vows. Second, don’t you dare take on the guilt for your marriage ending. Of course, it would’ve been nice had you been home more often, but when you enter a life of service, it’s not like you get to pick and choose your hours. Third—” She shook her head and growled. “I don’t even have a third. All I know is by moving a whole country away, she didn’t just take your child, but my grandchild. And that stings.”

  “Sure does.” Hurting even worse was the sudden craving to see Brynn. He hardly knew the woman. Why would he want her any further ingrained in his life?

  * * *

  THURSDAY NIGHT, TEN MINUTES into a crowded Mud Bug parent meeting being held in the library’s community room, Brynn wished she’d accepted Vivian’s offer to take notes and deliver any must-know information later.

  The space was too small and stuffy, smelling of a strong blend of perfume and cologne. The longer her pregnancy dragged on, the greater her sense of smell grew and the more scents she disliked. Toss in her achy lower back and nausea and she was not a happy camper.

  “This seat taken?”

  “Um, no.” But one glance into Tristan’s dark eyes had her wishing it was. She wasn’t in her right mind around him—especially not when the cramped space had the entire length of her left side crushed against him. And he smelled too good—if there could even be such a thing—as though he’d just showered and brushed his gorgeous white teeth.

  “Glad you’re here,” he said while the team’s booster club president handed out information sheets. “There’s a batting cage at a sports complex over in Shreveport. I think it’d really do Cayden some good. He seems to do better when you’re watching, so maybe you could come, too? Tomorrow night? I’ll pick you up at five?”

  “O-okay. Sure.” The meeting might’ve started, but that did little to stop the chatter in Brynn’s head. She and Tristan were just friends, so why was her heart racing as if he’d asked her on a date? He’d explained how he felt about jumping into another relationship and, Lord knew, she wasn’t looking, so why couldn’t her body get the memo that the man was only a friend?

  The meeting wound on for an hour and at the end, Brynn found herself writing yet another check.

  To Tristan, she tried lightening her mood by quipping, “Think I liked baseball a lot better back in the days when the team paid Mack to play, rather than the other way around.”

  “Yeah, it’s crazy how much all of this costs, but the kids sure do enjoy it.”

  Brynn winced, clutching her lower back.

  “You okay?” His tender look of concern was too much. Made it damn near impossible to stick to her rule of being a self-sufficient island—not that she’d done such a great job at it lately. “You’re due pretty soon, aren’t you?”

  She nodded, forcing a smile through more pain. “In a couple weeks.”

  “Think you might be going into back labor? My ex went through it with my son. We kept watching for all the usual signs—water breaking and stuff, only none of it ever came. Finally, her pain was too much and we ran her to the E.R. Good thing—” his sharp exhale was followed by a smile “—she ended up having Jack two hours later.”

  “Yikes.” Gathering her lightweight jacket from the back of her chair, Brynn said, “You got lucky. Otherwise, you might’ve been one of those couples you hear about being forced to deliver their babies on the side of the road.”

  Hand on the small of her back, he ushered her into the warm night. The fresh air did wonders for clearing Brynn’s head. It made it possible to ignore the pleasant tingle still humming from Tristan’s briefest touch. He was her friend. And Cayden’s. Nothing more. They were lucky to have had him enter their lives.

  As for the surprise she felt over him opening up to her about his past? She chose to ignore that, too. Far from him keeping illegal activity from her the way Mack had done, Tristan was only keeping a tight rein on his own pa
in.

  He said, “I helped deliver a baby in Botswana.”

  “Really?” Her eyebrows raised.

  “There were midwives and stuff,” he said, turning red, “but they sent me on lots of missions—fetching fresh water and clean cloth. For lying on a mat in a dirt-floored hut, the mother brought whole new meaning to the expression ‘grace under fire.’”

  Brynn shuddered to think of having her baby girl anywhere other than the specialty birthing wing of the small regional hospital where she’d already made arrangements. It bothered her that she’d be alone, but it wasn’t as if her aunt and uncle would be able to make the trip all the way from Maine. Even if they would, Brynn had this handled.

  “Hey, Mom!” Cayden rounded the building’s corner, ambushing her in a hug. “While you guys were meeting, we’ve been doing catching drills. I caught three balls!”

  “That’s awesome, baby!” She kissed the top of his head.

  “I’m not a baby!” His pout returned. “That’s the baby.” Pointing at her stomach, he added, “And she’s gonna ruin everything.”

  Thankfully, Cayden ran off to be with his friends, which gave Brynn a chance to regroup.

  “Not to get in your business,” Tristan said alongside her, “but seems like I felt the same about my sister. Once I saw how cute she was—all those tiny fingers and toes—I figured the whole baby sister thing might not be so bad. Want me to talk with him?”

  “Thanks,” she said with an exhausted sigh, “but somehow I have to believe everything’s going to work out.”

  * * *

  “YOO-HOO!”

  Brynn’s stomach tightened. After receiving the morning freeze from her son, who’d climbed on his school bus without even a verbal goodbye, let alone a kiss or hug, the last thing she needed was a visit from her neighbor. All Brynn wanted was to be left alone with her thoughts and plants—which thankfully, never talked back!

  “Hi, Mrs. Booth.” Out of common courtesy, Brynn waved.

  Charging across the street, Georgia was all smiles. “Great news!”

  “Oh?” Brynn kept weeding her impatiens bed.

  “Usually the garden club only accepts potential new members once a year, but considering your skill—and of course, a glowing recommendation from me—I’ve managed to get you a provisional membership. All you have to do is come with me to the next meeting and you’re in.”

  “Wow.” Rocking back on her heels, Brynn wasn’t sure how to respond. “Thank you. But with the baby due in a couple weeks and after that, I’m going to start looking for a job, I’m not sure I’ll have time.”

  Georgia waved off her concerns. “None of us have enough time, dear. All you can do is make time for the things you love. And it’s plain from the sight of this impeccable yard that you truly do love gardening.”

  “That I do...” A wistful smile tugged Brynn’s lips. There had once been a period in her life when she’d spent whole days prettying her yard. Now, between washing and hanging clothes, cleaning and cooking, she was lucky for the two hours she stole each morning to pursue her passion. “But what does the garden club do?”

  “Well, of course, we officially lunch once a month. But beyond that, we share plant clippings and extras—everyone’s always dividing bulbs and such.”

  “So there’s an opportunity to get free plants?”

  “Every meeting. Want to tag along with me this afternoon?”

  * * *

  STILL RIDING THE HIGH from receiving not just a few plant cuttings, but literally dozens of exotic bulbs and whole flats of annuals, rather than dreading her and Cayden’s outing with Tristan, Brynn looked forward to it, taking extra time with her hair and makeup.

  Though Cayden sat downstairs scowling that she wasn’t hurrying, she refused to let his impatience bring her down.

  Once again, she felt grateful to Georgia. The garden club women couldn’t have been more welcoming. Brynn had worried she wouldn’t fit in, or considering her rocky past they’d have treated her poorly, but the day was perfect, right down to the key lime pie served for dessert. Another plus: Tristan’s mom, Donna, was a member. In talking with her, Brynn had even learned of a few possible job leads.

  In deference to the day’s muggy heat, Brynn piled her red curls high, fastening them with rhinestone pins. Though they were only going to a batting cage, her limited maternity wardrobe didn’t allow for a whole lot of options. Either she wore stretch-waisted shorts, jeans or a sundress. Opting for a pale blue floral dress, she added pearl earrings and more lip gloss than usual.

  From downstairs came the muted ring of the house line phone.

  A few minutes later, Cayden charged up the stairs. “Mom! Some guy’s on the phone!”

  “Hello?” Brynn answered. “Yes... But how? I don’t understand...” After ten more minutes of the man’s droning voice, Brynn’s knees buckled and she dropped to the floor.

  Chapter Seven

  Tristan parked his truck on Brynn’s gravel drive, then whistled his way to the front porch. When he heard Cayden inside, crying for help, begging for his mom not to die, Tristan yanked open the screen door hard enough to pop the simple latch-hook closure, then charged up the stairs two at a time.

  “Cayden? What’s wrong?”

  “Mom’s dead!” The boy’s face was streaked with tears. “I know she’s dead! Just like my dad! I—I’m gonna be left all alone and all I know how t-to eat is cereal!”

  Kneeling alongside Brynn, Tristan checked her vitals and found her pulse slightly elevated, but breathing normal. “Brynn?” he urgently coaxed. “Brynn, if you can hear me, I need you to let me know.”

  She groaned before delivering a drowsy nod. “I’m okay. Just give me a minute.”

  “Cayden,” Tristan said, “you know how to dial 9-1-1?”

  The still crying boy nodded.

  “No, no.” Brynn pressed her hands to Tristan’s capable chest. “I’m fine. I just...” She shook her head. “I must’ve fainted—which is kind of bizarre, but considering the circumstances...”

  Tristan asked, “What happened?”

  Cayden had the phone. “You still want me to call?”

  “Hold off for a minute, bud.”

  Cradling the phone, Cayden sat next to his mom, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I was so scared.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetie. But really, I’m fine. Just had a pretty surprising call.” She managed to sit up, resting against the footboard of her brass bed.

  “Who was it?” Tristan asked.

  “Baseball commissioner, Ted Stevens. First, he apologized for not being able to contact me sooner, then he said they’ve officially closed Mack’s case, all of their intended targets have been apprehended, charged and await trial, so they’ve not only worked with government authorities to release Mack’s frozen assets, but are now prepared to make a public statement clearing him of all wrongdoing. The whole time, he was actually working with them. His death was a horrible accident.” Covering her face with her hands, she said, “I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry. Maybe both?”

  “Whoa...” That news left Tristan a little wobbly himself. “This changes everything. You could return to St. Louis and step back into your former life.”

  “I could. The commissioner is working with the Cardinals to host a special game in Mack’s honor.”

  “Can we go?” Cayden asked.

  “Of course.” She hugged him extra close.

  Tristan asked, “When do you think it’ll be?”

  “Later this summer.” Exhaling, she curved her hands to her belly, for the first time in months, feeling as though her lungs were receiving an adequate amount of air.

  “We should celebrate,” Tristan said. “Hell, the whole town should throw a party. I knew from the start there was no way Mack could’v
e been wrapped up in all that. He truly loved the game. And sounds like he loved and was wholly committed to you, too.”

  “Yeah...” In a heartbeat, just as abruptly as her life had changed the day of Mack’s death, her whole life had once again been turned upside down, only this time for the better. “Cayden, hon? Would you please get me a cup of juice?”

  Hopping to his feet, he asked, “Apple or orange?”

  “Apple, please. Thanks, sweetie.”

  In a flash, he was off, giving Brynn the privacy she needed. “Is it wrong for a part of me to be angry all over again?” she asked Tristan. “Why did Mack lie about being part of something that tore our lives apart? And all of the sudden, I’m supposed to celebrate his glory. But how can I do that? If he walked through the front door, after everything he’s put Cayden and me through, my first inclination would be to tell him to walk right back out.”

  Tristan sat on the floor in front of her. He inched his hands toward her—as if he might ease his fingers between hers. But he didn’t. And that raised a knot in Brynn’s throat that had her all the more confused.

  “Look,” he said with a sigh, “I can’t begin to relate with what you must be going through. But for the record, I’m sorry.”

  “Here, Mom.” Cayden thrust her juice in her face, in the process, spilling a little on the dress she’d not so long ago been excited to wear.

  “Thank you, baby.”

  He nodded. “I’m real glad you’re alive, Mom.”

  “Me, too.” She finished her juice, then pulled him against her.

  “So does your call mean Dad’s alive, too? Since he’s gonna be in a game?”

  “Oh, baby...” His hopeful question made her especially teary on what was supposed to be a fun night for all of them. With Cayden on her lap, she stroked his hair from his forehead. “More than anything, I wish Dad was playing that game for you, but remember what we talked about? How Dad’s gone forever?”

  He nodded. “But I want him.”

  “I know, baby. I know.”