She walked out of the bathroom and held up the stick for Allison to see the result.
“Oh my god, you’re pregnant!” Allison gave a whoop.
Harper burst into tears.
“Are you upset?” Allison rubbed her back.
Harper couldn’t get a word past the hiccups.
“That was a dumb thing to ask. Obviously, you’re upset. Are you worried about what Bennett will say?”
“B-Bennett. The café. Ben.”
Allison’s mouth formed an O. “I get it. It’s complicated, but all the kinks will work themselves out. As far as the coffee shop, you could offer Madeline and Joyce bigger stakes in the company. Take some of the responsibility off you.”
“I need to call Bennett.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to wait until you”—Allison waved a hand over Harper—“get yourself together?”
The need to talk to him, share her burden, even though it would become his burden soon enough, was overwhelming. Without becoming aware, he’d become her partner, and she hoped he would continue to be her partner into this brave new world.
She tapped his name and waited through three rings.
“How did the first day go?” The deep rumble of his voice, even through the distance, was like a lifeline.
Tears clogged her throat and all that emerged were a few stuttered words.
“I can’t understand you, sweetheart. Can you take a deep breath and tell me what happened?” Love and worry transmitted behind his words.
She took one deep, shuddery breath. “Our first day was a smashing success. More customers than we anticipated. We sold out of muffins and cookies and bagged, roasted beans.”
“That’s amazing. I’m so proud of you.”
A sob slipped out of her.
“What the hell is wrong? Is it Ben? Allison or Darren? The kids?” An urgency thrummed like he wanted to bust through the line and tackle the problems.
“No. Everyone here is good. Great, in fact. It’s … it’s me. And, well … I’ve been feeling sick this week. I threw up this morning.”
“Stress is a killer. You’ll feel better now the shop is open.”
“Nope. I don’t think I’ll feel better for like seven months. Maybe seven and a half.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m pregnant.”
A thud sounded on the other end followed by heavy breathing.
“Bennett? Are you still there?”
“Sorry, I dropped the phone. I’m here and shocked. How? When?”
“I’m pretty sure you know how. You’re pretty amazing at the how part. As far as when, I think it was that time in your truck. We took a chance, remember?”
A long spate of silence. “Are you happy about this?” His voice was soft.
She took inventory. Fear was there in spades, but also satisfaction and, yes, happiness. A second chance at love had snuck up on her. She’d assumed her one shot had died with Noah.
“Yeah, I am happy.” She inhaled sharply as the truth arrowed through her.
“Now will you marry me?”
Her head swam and she sank down on the edge of the couch and folded over her knees. “What about Ben? Where will we live? And, what about—”
“We’ll figure it out. Together.”
The surety of his words and voice sloughed away her panic. The alternative to not figuring it out wasn’t an option. Their history wound through the years, their connection fated.
“Unless you don’t want to get married?” Uncertainty crept across the line in his voice.
She wanted to teleport into his arms to offer reassurances, but she had to content herself with words. “You’re not getting off that easy, Mr. Caldwell. I’m going to marry you and make you the happiest man alive.”
“Too late for that. I’m already the happiest man alive.”
Epilogue
Harper’s eyes popped open. A dull pain rippled through her belly. She was a week overdue, so going into labor wasn’t a surprise. In fact, she’d been scheduled for an induction that afternoon. It seemed the baby wasn’t going to wait. The tightness and pain eased.
She and Bennett and Ben were living at her mom’s house in Nags Head, waiting for the contractors to finish the house they’d had built outside of Virginia Beach, close to Bennett’s business. Of course, it was supposed to be done a month ago with plenty of time to get moved in and settled before the baby came, but a rainy summer had delayed the work.
Harper wasn’t upset, though. Honestly, being home with her mom was comforting, and she had desperately wanted Adele to deliver her baby. She heaved herself off the bed and stumbled toward the window, her balance compromised and her back aching.
The rising sun streaked the sky with pinks and oranges. It was December. Another winter had come. The leaves had dropped and been swept away by the wind, leaving the grass barren and the beaches lonely.
Yet her familiar melancholy had stayed at bay. She and Bennett had walked down to the dock the night before, the air crisp and her mood high. The site of their first kiss. In spite of her stomach making things difficult, they had re-created the moment.
She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. Bennett was a massive lump under the covers, only his arm visible where it lay in the spot she’d left as if seeking her.
The last months had brought enormous change. Ben had been ecstatic at the news of the baby and the fact that he was gaining Bennett as a stepfather. But his enthusiasm had waned when he’d discovered he would have to change schools and leave Yaya’s house.
Bennett’s loft above the shop was perfect for one but not a sudden family of four. And it made sense for them to move to Virginia Beach. She was already working remotely, running the internet sales side of the café and planning for their expansion, but Bennett needed to be on-site to run his business.
She braced a hand on the sill as the next pain took hold. Time to wake the soldiers. She sat on the edge of the bed and put her hand on Bennett’s shoulder. He startled awake, his eyes wide, his mind back in his dream. Was he with Noah?
“It’s time,” she said softly.
“Time?” At first confusion clouded his face, but it cleared as sleep was cast off. “It’s time. Holy shit, it’s time.” He jumped up, more agile than she was, and stood in the middle of the floor, his hands up as if frozen in indecision, which was very unlike him.
“Get dressed.” She gave his butt a pat. While she was sure the female staff at the hospital would appreciate Bennett Caldwell in nothing but boxer briefs, she didn’t want Adele distracted with a spate of heart attacks.
She did the same, pulling on stretchy yoga pants and a T-shirt that hugged her belly. Bennett returned, buttoning his jeans, a lost look on his face.
“Grab my ba-a-a-ahhh … dammit.” Another contraction took hold, this one stronger. She grabbed Bennett’s forearms.
The pain faded and she loosened her grip, but her fingernails left indentations on his skin. Color had drained from his face. “Is this normal?”
“Totally, but we’d better hustle.”
She’d never seen Bennett move so fast. Laughter bubbled up, as did anticipation. She couldn’t wait to meet their son or daughter. The contrast to her labor with Ben was stark. That day had been filled with dread and fear. While there was still fear present today, a well of optimism had filled over the last year.
Her mom came out into the hallway, holding her robe together. “What’s going on?”
“The baby didn’t want to wait until this afternoon.” Another pain shot through her body, no longer confined to her belly. She puffed until it waned. “Contractions are coming on fast. We need to go. I don’t think it will be long. Could you call Adele and let her know we’re on the way?”
“Of course.” Her mom gave her a brief hug, shooing them away. “I’ll bring Ben up afterward. Love you, Harper Lee.”
“Love you, too. I don’t know what I would have done without you.” Tears blurred her vision, h
er emotions careening like a pinball machine.
They made it to the hospital—barely. Adele whisked in as Harper was ready to push. The nurses were still scurrying around the room preparing the bed and everything the baby would need.
Holding on to Bennett’s hand and with his words of encouragement in her ear, Harper gave birth to a healthy nine-pound baby boy. After he was cleaned up and placed in her arms, she and Bennett admired his perfect fingers and toes. The baby blinked up at them with unfocused blue eyes. Blue eyes. The unexpected color left her reeling.
“We need a name, huh?” Bennett stroked over the baby’s delicate head with his big hand.
“I was sure it was a girl. I guess ‘Evangeline’ is a no-go.”
He huffed a laugh but turned serious. “I thought of a name, but I’m not sure how you’ll feel about it.”
“Try me.”
“What about … Noah?” Bennett whispered.
Her wave of surprise ebbed. After all, she had named Noah’s son after Bennett. The name clicked into place like the last piece of a puzzle. She leaned over to brush her lips over the straggle of baby hair, breathing in his essence. “Perfect. I love you, Noah.”
Author’s Note
This book wouldn’t have been possible without my editor, Eileen Rothschild, having the confidence that I could branch out and tackle a new genre. It’s a true joy to brainstorm with her. Big thanks to Monique Patterson and Tiffany Shelton and to the copy editors and proofreaders and cover artists at St. Martin’s Press who make the machine run smoothly.
I also need to thank Brandon Webb for providing his expertise as a former SEAL and SEAL instructor to make the path my characters followed as accurate as possible. Brandon’s book The Red Circle, detailing his training as a SEAL, proved invaluable to get the feel and details of the harrowing BUD/S training every SEAL must complete.
I am not a military wife myself, so I have to send a huge, ginormous thank-you to Michelle Tonsmeire! Not only is she my bestie, but she is a military wife. Through the years I’ve witnessed her sacrifices on the home front as she moved from base to base with her family and survived as a single mom when her husband was deployed. I hope I portrayed her strength—and that of all the wives and husbands who keep things running at home when their partner is deployed—with truth and compassion.
My goal, when writing as Harper Lee Wilcox, the woman at the center of The Military Wife, was to portray her as a complex individual with her own goals and needs apart from being a wife and mother. The obstacles I threw at Harper, from having to choose between her own ambitions and her marriage to making new friends to raising a child without her husband, aren’t all that unusual. They are challenges faced by women every single day.
One exchange in particular highlights the unique challenges of being married to a man in the military, particularly a SEAL. “Most people don’t get it. The threat of death is abstract, but for women like us, the threat has moved into the spare bedroom.” Military spouses learn to deal with the underlying threat of losing their husband or wife while still working and raising their kids and living their lives. It’s a sacrifice not many of us will ever understand. For just a little while, I tried to put myself in Harper’s heart.
Through all the challenges Harper overcomes, I hope the reader will recognize her strength is not what she can handle on her own but what she accomplishes when she leans on others, and in turn, the help she extends to others when they are in need. Above all, The Military Wife is about the connections, big and small, that make life worth living.
Also by Laura Trentham
THE SWEET HOME ALABAMA SERIES
Slow and Steady Rush
Caught Up in the Touch
Melting into You
THE COTTONBLOOM SERIES
Kiss Me That Way
Then He Kissed Me
Till I Kissed You
Leave the Night On
When the Stars Come Out
Set the Night on Fire
Candy Cane Christmas (novella)
Light Up the Night (novella)
About the Author
LAURA TRENTHAM is an award-winning romance author. The Military Wife is her debut women’s fiction novel. A chemical engineer by training and a lover of books by nature, she lives in South Carolina. You can sign up for email updates here.
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Also by Laura Trentham
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
THE MILITARY WIFE. Copyright © 2019 by Brandon Webb. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
Cover design by Danielle Christopher
Cover photographs: flag © Ira Block/Getty Images; woman © plainpicture/Reto Puppetti
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-1-250-14553-6 (trade paperback)
ISBN 978-1-250-14554-3 (ebook)
e-ISBN 9781250145543
Our ebooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by email at [email protected].
First Edition: February 2019
The Military Wife Page 29