Her Soldier's Baby

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  “Pierce?”

  “No.” He wasn’t copping an attitude. He was, perhaps, saving a life. He’d be damned if any son of his looked up to him.

  “That’s it? No discussion?”

  “That’s it.”

  Her silence told him she was disappointed.

  It was nothing compared to how she’d feel about him if she knew the truth. She deserved to know.

  That moment was when Pierce hit his all-time low. Because he realized that he’d never had any intention of telling Eliza the truth. All the thought about the pact, about contacting his fellow pact holders—it had all been a way to buy himself time. To see how everything played out.

  He couldn’t tell her. Ever.

  He’d rather lose her than have her know that he’d lost his soul.

  There. The bald truth. Right in front of his face. The real reason he’d known that someday he’d have to give her up.

  And that was before he’d known they had a son in the picture.

  “Will you at least think about it?”

  There was no kindness in letting her hope. “Thinking won’t change my mind.” Any more than regret could bring that young boy in the small desert town back to life.

  The next move was up to her. Would she ask him to clear out while she was away? He wouldn’t blame her. Should he offer to do so?

  “But you do understand that I have to give him my information, right?”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t have that any other way.” Another truth.

  “So I have your support?”

  “You always have my support, Liza. Always.” That was a forever he could give her.

  “Are you still planning to take me to the airport?” They’d discussed it earlier, when she’d been packing. His right arm was fine. The swelling over his eye was down. He could drive safely and easily. He just hadn’t been sure she’d still want him to drive her.

  And told himself not to get his hopes up because she did. “Of course.”

  “Can we go to bed now? We have to be up early.”

  He stood. Put his arm around his wife’s waist, thankful that he’d have at least one more night beside her, and walked her inside.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  ELIZA’S TRIP TO the adoption agency was quick. Mrs. Carpenter was out, and as always, the place was quiet that late on a Friday afternoon.

  The receptionist was polite as she took Eliza’s signed and dated written permission to release her information to her biological son in the event that he asked for it. It had even been notarized right there on the spot.

  The middle-aged woman didn’t ask about Pierce. Only Mrs. Carpenter knew that the boy’s father was in the picture.

  At least, Eliza hoped he still was. Though he’d held her close the entire night, he’d been more distant that morning than she’d ever known him to be. To the point of politeness when she’d called to let him know she’d made it to the hotel.

  “Silence is the way Pierce handles his emotions,” she reminded herself aloud as she turned her rental car back toward Palm Desert. She’d originally thought she’d be no-good company for a cocktail gathering with her fellow contestants that evening, but was starting to think she’d go.

  She needed to be out among people. Needed space to clear her perspective.

  She needed to know that her husband would still be in residence when she returned to Rose Harbor on Sunday.

  And she needed to stay busy so she didn’t stare at her phone.

  She’d give her right arm to hear from her son.

  How could that be, knowing that if she did, she’d likely lose her husband?

  The thought panicked her to the point that she slowed down, thinking she’d take the next exit, turn back to the agency and withdraw her permission. Her stomach fluttered as she worried that she wouldn’t be in time. That the boy would already have her information.

  And then she sped up past the exit. No matter what it cost her, she couldn’t turn her back on the person who was alive because of choices she’d made. Period.

  Her decision was made.

  And it was final.

  * * *

  PIERCE HAD NO idea whether or not Eliza would call him when she got to her room Friday night. He wasn’t sure about anything his wife might or might not do anymore. The hours that she’d been gone had been unkind to him.

  He could see Eliza moving out to California. Getting into the television chef business. And becoming family to their son.

  The Eliza he’d thought he’d known would never have left Rose Harbor. Or him. But that Eliza didn’t exist, and he had to face that fact. The woman he’d married had gone through far more heartache at sixteen than he’d ever imagined. She’d made tough decisions.

  Endured pain he’d never fully comprehend.

  And then gone on to graduate from Harvard.

  She’d made good decisions. Healthy, sound decisions. She’d made decisions that were best for others, and still managed to carve out a happy life for herself.

  In all of that, he couldn’t find the woman who needed him.

  He waited for her call. Just in case.

  And almost didn’t answer when it came.

  “Did you go?” He compromised with himself and picked up because he had to know whether or not the boy could possibly try to contact her at home while she was gone.

  At least, that was what he went with.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s done?”

  “Yes.”

  He wanted to be angry. To lash out. To storm out. In truth, he was glad.

  She’d done the right thing.

  “You ready for tomorrow?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You sound tired.”

  “I’m beat.”

  “You want me to let you go so you can rest?”

  “No.”

  Pierce settled back against the pillows, taking a lot of comfort from that one word.

  “I’m afraid you’re not going to be there when I get back.”

  Comfort flew out the window.

  “Do you want me to leave?”

  “No! Did you hear what I just said? I’m afraid, Pierce. Scared to death. I don’t want to come home and find you gone.”

  “You won’t.” This time.

  But they both knew it might happen sometime in the near future.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “You haven’t said anything about the fact that I kept such a huge secret from you all these years.”

  “What’s to say? You explained. I understand why you did it. I don’t blame you.” His jaw tensed as he spoke.

  “I had your baby, Pierce.”

  “I know.” What did she want from him?

  “Are you angry with me?”

  “For having the child? Of course not.” He knew that wasn’t what she meant. Was not proud of his prevarication. But there was so much about himself that he couldn’t explain. If he got started, where would it lead?

  “For giving him away,” she said.

  “Absolutely not.” And then it occurred to him—idiot that he was, he’d been thinking of what she’d gone through, how it affected him, and hadn’t thought at all about what she thought of it all. “And I hope you aren’t angry with yourself, either,” he said, on a roll now that he saw a small place where she might need him. “You have no reason to feel guilty, Liza. None. You were a kid. I was there for the conception and then I just left. You never heard from me again...”

  “Because my father threatened you.”

  “You didn’t know that. And even if you had, it shouldn’t have made a difference. You had two years left of high school. No way to support a c
hild. No support from me. What kind of life would the boy have had? You gave him parents, Liza. Family who loved and wanted him.”

  “I should have told you about him when you first got back in touch with me.”

  He wanted to agree. But selfishly, he was glad that she hadn’t. He’d have had the same issues he was currently having. They’d have driven him away from her, and he’d never have known what it was like to live with her. Be married to her.

  At the same time...

  “I’m struggling a bit with the fact that you had such a life-changing event, and such an enormous secret, and I didn’t have a clue.” He was a cop. He was supposed to be trained to know when someone was lying. Hiding something.

  “I had a lot of years to practice pretending it hadn’t happened.”

  “But when you saw me again...the baby’s father...”

  He didn’t have a right to pry. Especially when he couldn’t reciprocate.

  “I felt more at peace,” she told him. “Like at least if we were together...”

  She didn’t finish the sentence. And Pierce didn’t ask her to, leery of what she might have said.

  “Anyway, I’m sorry, babe, that I kept it from you.”

  “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you...”

  He was sorry for so much more than that. But couldn’t figure out how to make any of it right.

  One thing he’d learned a long time ago—life didn’t give a guy do-overs.

  “We promised ourselves that we wouldn’t let regrets from the past eat up our future,” he reminded her—even knowing that thinking they were going to get through this together was a pipe dream.

  “I know.”

  “You need to get some rest.”

  “You, too. Are you going to be okay?”

  “Yes.” He’d been managing his nightmares on his own for more than a decade.

  But for the second night in a row, Pierce took a sleeping pill before he climbed under the covers.

  * * *

  WHEN ELIZA’S PHONE rang while she was in the shower Saturday morning, her heart leaped and she rushed out to answer it. She’d left her cell on the bathroom counter, just in case.

  But the ring was coming from the landline.

  Dripping on the carpet, grabbing yesterday’s clothes up to her body, she answered, only to find that the shuttle was going to be half an hour later. Taping had been moved back half an hour due to an issue at the studio, and as an apology for the inconvenience, the hotel would be sending breakfast up to her room.

  Once she was over the initial letdown, she was slightly relieved that the call hadn’t been from her son. She needed to focus on cooking for the next few hours.

  She would have liked to hear from Pierce, though. Would have liked for him to call her rather than wait for her to call him. It was a routine they’d established, that she call him. And it made sense since she was the one coming and going. But she wished anyway...

  Still, the reprieve was nice. Breakfast was nice, too. A bit much, with two kinds of eggs, pancakes, toast, bacon, coffee, juice, a muffin and fruit, but she ate what she could of it. Mostly it was nice to have a few extra minutes in her room to compose herself. From Pierce’s injuries to the revelation of her baby secret, it had been a tough week. She hoped it was the toughest one they’d face.

  But she knew they had some difficult days ahead.

  Not impossible. Just difficult.

  As difficult as getting a spot on Family Secrets. And then winning one of the competitions. And she’d managed to do both.

  Feeling better than she had all week, she went down to meet the shuttle ten minutes early. As was also her routine. As she exited the elevator and rounded the corner into the lobby, she expected to see some of her fellow contestants. The twins, at the very least.

  Five minutes later she was still the only one in the lobby. And started to get a bit uncomfortable. Her phone rang, and Eliza grabbed it up. She’d already talked to Pierce, having called to tell him about the change in the day’s plans. He’d wished her good luck, just as he had each week...

  The call was from a number she didn’t recognize.

  All other thoughts fled as Eliza pushed the button to answer.

  “Hello?”

  “Eliza?” The voice on the other end of the line was feminine.

  “Yes?”

  “This is Angela. We got the message you left about driving yourself in today, but it’s getting late. Are you okay?”

  “What? What message?” Dread weighted her chest. She looked around the busy lobby as though someone would appear to help her. “I didn’t leave a message. What about the shuttle? The issue at the studio? No one else is down here yet, but...”

  “Everyone’s here, sweetie. Taping starts in half an hour. There was a message on the show’s answering machine telling the shuttle not to wait for you, that you had your own ride this morning...”

  Oh no. “I didn’t leave a message!” she was running now, back to the bell desk. “I need a cab!” she said, and then, into the phone, “I’ll get there as quickly as I can...” And prayed they’d wait for her.

  “There are no cabs out front, Mrs. Westin. We can call you one if you’d like.”

  She nodded. Thanked him. And went to the rental car desk at the same time. She was only ten minutes from the studio. She’d never driven it before, but after so many back and forth trips, she was pretty sure she knew the way.

  In the end, the rental car was quicker. She was belted in and on the road before the cab pulled into the drive.

  Another catastrophe averted.

  She could do this.

  And later, she’d figure out what in the heck was going on.

  One thing was for sure. Pierce’s assurance that the previous mishaps on the set weren’t personal to her no longer held weight.

  Clearly, this was personal.

  Very personal.

  Someone was out to get her.

  She just had no idea who. Or why.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  PIERCE WAS UPSTAIRS vacuuming guest rooms when his phone buzzed against his hip. Off the job for another week at least, he knew it wouldn’t be work. But it could be Jamison or one of the other guys checking up on him.

  He almost let it go.

  It just wasn’t in him to do so.

  Eliza! He saw her name on the screen and turned off the vacuum.

  “What’s up, Liza?” She was supposed to be in the green room. Ready to go on stage for taping.

  His heart started to pound as she told him that the change of plans had been neither official nor legitimate. He hated her driving in such a hurry on unfamiliar roads. Hated that she was all alone. Hated that he couldn’t get to her quickly and easily.

  He hated that he didn’t have a clue what was going on. And most of all, he hated that he hadn’t taken the previous incidents more seriously.

  Insisting that she stay on the phone with him until she’d arrived and was safely in the green room, Pierce wished her luck. Told her to have fun cooking and they’d worry about the rest later. He told her he loved her.

  He hung up.

  And was on the phone with Palm Desert police before she would have had time to put her phone away.

  * * *

  BY THE TIME Eliza called him after the show, Pierce had done all he could do for the moment. He’d been in touch with law enforcement, had opened an official report and had someone standing by to speak with Natasha, Eliza, Grace and anyone else they deemed necessary.

  Maybe it was overkill, since there’d not even been a threat of personal harm, but he’d unabashedly pulled the cop card. Asked for a favor.

  Questions would be asked. People put on alert.

  Before any personal harm could h
appen.

  He might have failed Eliza in a lot of ways, but he was not going to let her down on this one. Protecting her was his duty, and he was going to get it right.

  He geared up to tell her so, to let her know about the police escort she’d have back to the hotel, but he didn’t even get a word out before she said, “I won! Pierce, I won again. Can you believe it?”

  He’d hoped. Wasn’t surprised. Her fried vegetables were about the best thing he’d ever eaten. But he hadn’t put a lot of stock in the win since she was already going to the final round.

  It was clear that the further accolade mattered to her, though.

  Surprised that he hadn’t known how talented she was, he congratulated her. Smiled as she talked a mile a minute, telling him about the runners-up. One of the twins. And Grace again.

  His news could wait a minute. Or even two.

  “So, there were no problems on set?” he asked her when she finally slowed down. She was in a hallway outside the green room—as she’d been each week when she’d called to let him know how taping had gone.

  “None,” she said. “Natasha knows about my mix-up this morning, but she asked if we could keep it quiet until after the taping, and I agreed.” A note of unease had entered her voice, and he took the opportunity to let her know that the police were waiting to speak with her.

  He half expected her to be upset with him. To tell him that she could take care of herself. Or that Natasha wanted to handle things her own way.

  “Thank you, babe.” Her words warmed everything cold inside him. “You have no idea how much better I feel knowing you’ve got my back.”

  “I always do, Liza. Always.”

  And if that was the best he could give her, at least there was that.

  * * *

  ELIZA WAS HALFWAY back to the hotel, with a police car directly behind her, when she started to feel the thump. It was like she’d run over something and it had stuck to her tire.

  She’d been watching the road. It had been clear.

  What would...

  Red-and-blue lights started to flash in her rearview and side mirrors. The cruiser behind her was signaling her to stop.