The SEAL's Valentine (Operation: Family)

by Altom, Laura Marie

  Tristan turned off his flashlight and sighed. “Yeah, well, what if I told you I’m tired?”

  “Aren’t we all? But this is what we signed up for.”

  “I know, but maybe it’s not worth it.”

  Resting on his side, Garrett bunched the T-shirt he used as a pillow under his head. “You mean being a SEAL?”

  “Yeah. You ever think of hanging up your Trident?”

  “Hell, no. Eve knows what my being a SEAL means and is okay with it. We both lead full lives and when we come together, it’s still great—like a do-over honeymoon.”

  “TMI,” Tristan said with a grunt. “Problem is, my lady—or at least the woman I’d like to be mine—says she’d be okay with me leaving, but Andrea once said the same. Look how swell that turned out. But, hell, I can’t stand being away from her or her kids. Or Jack. My head’s constantly spinning, trying to figure out a way I don’t have to give up everything I’ve ever known to get the one thing I now want.”

  * * *

  “I ALMOST HATE TO ASK,” Donna said over Christmas dinner, “but have you heard from Tristan since his last call?”

  Brynn shook her head, hoping Cayden and his big ears hadn’t overheard. Any mention of Tristan upset him to the point Brynn had pretty much banished his name. She wasn’t sure if this was handling Cayden’s grief in the proper way, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure what else to do. Cayden’s therapist said this was all right for short-term coping, but eventually, her son would have to find a healthy way to deal with Tristan being gone.

  Though Vivian and Sean had done their best to provide a festive meal—even including Georgia—everyone present missed Tristan to their own degree.

  Fortunately, Donna sat at the end of the long table that included Vivian’s parents and Tristan’s sister, Franny, and her husband and three kids. Brynn couldn’t keep from smiling every time she thought of him calling his little sister Fig Newton.

  “I don’t mind telling you,” Donna rambled on, “that every time the phone rings my stomach seizes. Although any truly catastrophic news I’d get through a knock on the door. Anyway, I phoned one of Tristan’s friends’ wives—Eve. She told me her husband, Garrett, called a month ago and told her everyone on Tristan’s team was fine.”

  As much as Brynn despised the man, she couldn’t help but feel shimmery with relief. If she had one Christmas wish above all, as a steady rain tapped the Stoleys’ windows, a fire glowed in their hearth and Bing Crosby crooned on their stereo, it was that wherever Tristan and his team happened to be, they were all safe, warm and sharing an equally delicious meal.

  * * *

  “ANOTHER AT TEN!” GARRETT shouted in the black night, firing his weapon blindly behind him. “Move it or lose it, Grinder!”

  Tristan ducked to avoid the latest round of gunfire. “Merry freakin’ Christmas, huh?”

  “Yeah, ho freakin’ ho.” Arming a grenade, he tossed it deep into the enemy compound they’d raided.

  Gunfire rained like New Year’s Eve confetti.

  Having had enough and spooked by the two of them being cut off from the rest of their team, Tristan let loose with a mighty growl before leaping to his feet and shooting wildly at anything that even remotely moved. “I’m so damned sick of this!”

  Round after round he fired into the camp they’d predetermined to be filled with nothing but the lowest of the low of criminals.

  With Garrett alongside him, they managed to take out every last one of the men whose résumés included human trafficking, murder, international drug transport and plain old bank robbery.

  By the time they met up with their old pal Deacon, he patted them on their backs. “About time you two showed up for the party.”

  “Screw you,” Tristan said.

  Garrett laughed. “Don’t mind him. He’s just cranky because Santa put nothing in his stocking but drug lords.”

  “Damn straight.” After clearing bodies from the surprisingly plush beehive-style Zulu hut, they all pitched in their favorite condiment packets to add flavor to otherwise disgusting MRE meals.

  After dinner, with no water to spare for low-priority tasks like washing, Tristan slept on top of his sleeping bag, dreaming not of a white Christmas, but of being reunited with the people who meant the most.

  * * *

  “TRISTAN...” TWO DAYS AFTER Christmas on a gloomy afternoon, Brynn gripped the phone so tight that the plastic ridges bit her fingers. “Your mom has been worried sick. Why haven’t you called?” I’ve missed you so bad my heart actually aches.

  “No time to explain. I’m back in Germany, but only for a couple hours. Just needed to touch base. Hear your voice.”

  Pulse on a runaway course, she closed her eyes, leaning against the kitchen wall for support when her knees threatened to buckle. “Thank you for thinking of me.” She hated sounding so formal, but he hadn’t left her much choice. What were they? Friends? Lovers, but only when it suited him? His leaving had been breathtakingly cruel. Like a precision mission designed to cause little physical damage, but deliver a crushing psychological blow.

  “Not sure if I should say this, but honestly, all I do is think of you—and Mackenzie and Cayden. He around?”

  “Yes, but...” She glanced to where her son sat at the kitchen table, icing New Year’s Eve cookies for Friday night’s big party. The holidays had been especially hard for him—so much so, she’d started taking him to his therapist twice a week. Though she couldn’t entirely blame Tristan—Lord knew, Mack’s death had played a huge role in messing up their kid—she certainly didn’t feel warm and fuzzy where their supposed friend was involved. Cupping the phone’s mouthpiece, she whispered, “He’s finally getting over you. I’m not sure it’d be wise to open that wound.”

  “Please...” His ragged tone cut through her every defense. Made her want to hold him, stroking away whatever pained him. “It’s been a hellish few days and I could really use a reminder of home.”

  “Look, Mom!” Cayden held up a yellow-frosted star.

  Her stomach knotted.

  Cayden had cried for days when Tristan left. He still talked about him all the time. No matter how many times Brynn had gently reminded her son that while Tristan would always be their special friend, he had an important job to do back on his navy base. Sounded good, right? At least until Cayden asked why he wasn’t also important to Tristan.

  “Brynn...” Tristan’s jagged sigh pierced her carefully built walls. “You have to know I never meant for any of this to turn out badly. And I sure didn’t want to hurt Cayden.”

  Since a knot blocked her throat, she nodded. But then felt silly since he couldn’t even see her. “Tristan, I—”

  “Tristan’s on the phone?” Cayden tossed his cookie to the table. Before Brynn could even try stopping him, he’d charged over to grab the handset. “Tristan, hi! I miss you so much! When are you coming home? Even though it’s winter, me and Dom practice catching all the time, and when’re you coming to see me?”

  Though Brynn couldn’t hear Tristan’s answer, Cayden’s slumped shoulders and crestfallen expression told her all she needed to know. Her son was once again in pain, and she was powerless to help. And who did she have to thank for all of this? Tristan.

  * * *

  AFTER TALKING TO TRISTAN, Cayden hung up the phone and tried really hard not to cry.

  “Everything all right?” his mom asked.

  No! Cayden might’ve nodded for his mom, but in his hurting belly, he missed Tristan superbad. And he was mad at his mom for letting him go. Why hadn’t she stopped him? Had she even asked him to stay in Ruin Bayou to be his dad? Even Mackenzie missed him. Cayden could tell by the way she hardly ever laughed anymore.

  “You’re awfully quiet over there.” At the table, his mom frosted a cookie.

  He still st
ood by the phone.

  Mackenzie had been taking a nap, but over her baby monitor she was now screaming.

  Cayden said, “I’ll get her.”

  “Thank you, sweetie. That’s awfully grown-up of you to help me like that.”

  “I know.” He frowned the whole way up the stairs. What he needed to do was think of a plan to make Tristan come home. Something really big and exciting. He had $23.47 in his piggy bank. Would that be enough to hire one of those skywriter planes like they’d seen on the Fourth of July?

  In Mackenzie’s room, he scooped her from her crib and could tell she’d peed in her diaper. He knew how to change that kind, so he did it real fast.

  Finished, he sat with her in her big rocking chair. “Wish you weren’t just a stupid baby and could talk.”

  When she smiled at him real big, he felt kinda guilty for calling her stupid.

  “If you were bigger—” he jiggled her on his lap “—we could make a plan to get Tristan to come home.”

  She made one of her cute and funny baby sounds.

  “Does that mean you think I should do something by myself?”

  Now she made cute noises and kicked.

  “I know his navy thing where he works is someplace called Virginia Beach. Think I could ride my bike there in a day?”

  Really excited, she wiggled and laughed.

  “Maybe it wouldn’t even take that long? I’m a really fast rider. All I need to do is make a sandwich and take granola bars and maybe my favorite baseball that Dad gave me that all of his friends signed. Tristan liked it a whole lot, so if I give it to him, then he’ll for sure come home.”

  Cayden jumped when his mom came into the room. “What’re you two doing up here?”

  “Just talking.” He usually asked permission before riding his bike somewhere far—like his friend Dom’s house that was two whole blocks away—but this time, he didn’t even want his mom to have a chance to say no. All he needed to do was bring back Tristan and his mom and Mac would never do anything but smile again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  With Cayden spending the night at Dom’s and Mackenzie crashing early, Brynn found herself with way more time on her hands than she would’ve liked. She channel-hopped, but found nothing that held her interest. Turning off the TV, she picked up the novel she’d been wanting to read, but her mind was too busy to focus on even the first page.

  Just needed to touch base. Hear your voice.

  She should’ve been encouraged by the fact that Tristan was at least thinking of her and her children, but at best, it came as a hollow victory. So what if he occasionally thought of them? It didn’t change the fact that he obviously didn’t miss them enough to do anything about it.

  She finally fell into a fitful sleep, only to be awakened too early by a violent thunderstorm. Eerie yellow morning light showed high wind had taken a toll on the yard. Leaves and small twigs littered not just the lawn, but her flowerbeds. Looked like Georgia’s yard would need a good cleaning, too.

  After orange spice tea and a bowl of cereal, she handled all of Mackenzie’s morning needs, then packed the baby into her carrier to start work.

  By noon, she and Georgia had their yards tidied and still had time left to help a few other neighbors. Brynn wanted to talk with her friend about Tristan’s call, but in the end, she figured what was the point? All the talk in the world wouldn’t bring him back. And honestly, did she really even want him back? He’d hurt her so badly. The safest thing for not only her own heart, but her children’s would be trying to put Tristan far to the back of their minds.

  “Where’s Cayden?” Georgia asked, taking off her gardening gloves. “We could’ve used him this morning.”

  “He spent the night with Dom. He’s usually home by now, though. Maybe Vivian’s got him helping out in their yard?”

  “Probably.” Georgia waved before heading into her home.

  Before feeding Mackenzie her lunch, Brynn dialed Vivian’s number. “Hey,” she said when her friend picked up on the second ring, “just checking in to make sure everything’s all right.”

  After a few minutes of talking about the storm, Brynn said, “What are the boys up to? They’ve usually ridden their bikes down here by now.”

  “What do you mean?” Vivian asked. “Dom spent the night with his cousin in Shreveport. We took him yesterday afternoon.”

  Brynn’s pulse raged. “So Cayden hasn’t been with you?”

  “No...”

  Covering her mouth to keep from crying out, Brynn fought to keep calm. There had to be a logical explanation for where Cayden had gone.

  Brynn told Vivian she’d call her back, then raced up the stairs to Cayden’s room. Maybe once he’d found out Dom was with his cousin, Cayden had come home?

  She prayed she’d find him in bed, but all she found was a note on his bed.

  Deer Mom, don’t wurry I’m bringing Tristan home.

  Don’t worry?

  It was all Brynn could do not to faint.

  * * *

  TRISTAN MADE THE EIGHTEEN-HOUR drive to Shreveport in fourteen. He’d looked into flying, but with scheduling issues, that would’ve taken even longer.

  During the drive, he’d done nothing but pray that by the time he reached Ruin Bayou, Cayden would have already been found—safe.

  Worse than the nerves screaming in his stomach was the knowledge that he’d done this. If he’d never left, at this late hour Cayden would be safe in his bed.

  He pulled his truck into Brynn’s drive at 1:30 a.m. All lights were blazing and cars lined the street—telling him the boy still hadn’t been found.

  “Tristan...” He hadn’t bothered knocking and went inside. His mother ran to him, crushing him in a hug.

  Over his mother’s head, his gaze met Brynn’s. Her eyes were bloodshot and the dark circles beneath told him her terror.

  Donna said, “Jason’s down at the station, directing searches. I’m sure he’ll be grateful for your help.”

  “I—I have to find Cayden, Mom.” Tristan felt as if his whole life had come unhinged. If something unspeakable happened to Brynn’s boy, Tristan wasn’t sure how he’d live with himself. “If I’d stayed...”

  “Stop.” His mom gripped his hand. “There’ll be enough time for blame once Cayden’s found. Until then, do what you’ve trained for and finish the task at hand.”

  * * *

  BRYNN HAD WANTED TO RAIL ON Tristan as soon as he’d walked through her front door. But how could she be upset with him when she hadn’t even called Vivian to check out Cayden’s story? All of this could’ve been avoided with one simple call. Didn’t matter that the boys slept over at each other’s houses all the time without formal invitation. What mattered was that when Brynn had needed to be a mother most, she’d failed.

  She’d set a fresh tray of sandwiches on the dining-room table before seeing Tristan exit not five minutes after his arrival.

  Not caring if she looked like a crazy woman, she charged through the subdued crowd, chasing him out the door. “Just like that? You’re leaving?”

  He was already halfway across the yard, and when he turned to face her, even in faint porch light, she saw he looked no better than her. Red-rimmed eyes and pressed lips told her he cared every bit as much as her about her son. “I’m not leaving, but heading out to bring Cayden home.”

  Hugging herself, fighting tears, she nodded.

  “I’m sorry about all this, Brynn. So sorry.”

  “Me, too. I know you had to go back to work, but Cayden...” She shrugged. “He didn’t understand.”

  Charging toward her, Tristan wrapped his solid arms around her, and for the first time since realizing Cayden was gone, Brynn felt as if her son really would be okay. He held her and held her, and then kissed her hard bef
ore heading for his truck.

  * * *

  CAYDEN DIDN’T WANT TO CRY, but it was getting kind of tough not to. He’d taken a map from his mom’s car, but all the lines looked the same.

  He’d ridden his bike on the highway for a long time, but once it started thundering, he hid under a bridge. The wind was superscary and all he kept thinking about was how bad he missed his mom and little sister. He missed his dad and Tristan, too, but sometimes he felt guilty that he couldn’t remember his dad’s face.

  By the time the rain ended, it was daytime and so he got back on his bike and kept riding until he saw Virginia’s BBQ on a sign in front of a restaurant.

  He leaned his bike against the side of the building, then went inside. Only instead of it being like a real place, it was all broken down inside with weeds growing through the floor and lots of broken glass.

  Cayden felt really stupid for thinking this was the same Virginia where Tristan lived. He felt even more stupid for not being able to read the map. And this place was smelly—like bunches of wet dogs.

  After taking off his backpack, he unzipped it, ate one of the granola bars he’d packed, then sat on the dirty floor, wishing he knew what to do. Should he get back on his bike and ride farther or stand in the road and wait for a policeman to drive by?

  A big spider crawled out from under a newspaper.

  Cayden scrambled to his feet.

  He hated spiders and now, he especially hated this old place. Back on his bike, he rode until his legs ached. But knowing he probably still had a long way to go, he tried not to think about how bad he hurt and instead thought of how awesome it would be once he found Tristan and brought him home. Mackenzie would be so excited, but especially his mom. She and Tristan could get married and they’d be a family again, back like it used to be before his dad died.

  * * *

  TEN FRUITLESS HOURS INTO HIS search, Tristan tried thinking like a little kid. What would Jack have done in a situation like this?