by Rachel Lee
“Why wouldn’t I? Did you get to be picky about food?”
“Not since I joined the navy.”
“Exactly.”
They shared a laugh, not something she was sure she really wanted to do, but it happened. Truce time. Not that there had been a war. Yet.
Dinner was surprisingly relaxed after all that had come before. Nate regaled them with some funny stories from his years as sheriff, keeping the mood light and pressure-free.
When Edie commented on all the hand drawn and colored turkeys on the wall, Marge explained she had kept all her daughters’ drawings, and put these up every year in the autumn.
“I also have their Halloween drawings, but those are in the den, if you want to see them. And then after Thanksgiving, I bring out the Christmas drawings.” Marge beamed.
“Six girls make an awful lot of drawings,” Nate remarked. He winked at his wife, who laughed.
“Boxes of them,” she agreed. “It’s a good thing we have a big attic.”
“And enough wall space to put them on,” Nate drawled.
Seth spoke. “But think of all the wallpapering you’ve escaped.”
The three of them all laughed.
Edie was charmed despite herself. She had an unexpected image of keeping a trunk full of such things from her own child. This was the first time she had even dared to look that far down the road of motherhood.
Edie offered to help with dishes afterward, but Marge shooed her out, and Nate remained to help.
Once again, the offer of a room was made. She wasn’t ready to accept it, though, so she left it by saying, “I’ll think about it.”
“I should warn you,” Seth said as he followed her back to the living room, “that the only motel we have in this town would make Bagram look like the Ritz. You don’t want to try to drive back tonight.”
No, she didn’t, but she was unwilling to commit to even a night. At least he didn’t press her. Indeed, he seemed to be working very hard not to press her in any way.
Something to be grateful for. In fact, maybe there was a whole lot to be grateful for.
She settled again on the sofa and put her feet up. “Are you sure you don’t want to take those boots off?” he asked.
She just knew that if she took them off she wouldn’t get them back on tonight. The question was whether she wanted to risk walking out of here barefoot. The answer was no. Experience had taught her to keep her boots on unless she was safely at home.
He sat facing her again, this time with his elbows on his splayed knees. Relaxed, yet not. For a moment she wished she could just close her eyes and fall back to sleep. Dinner had given her a sense of contentment that was rapidly vanishing. Tension steadily crept into the air.
“Tell me about it,” he said quietly. “How you found out, how you felt.”
“That’s huge.”
“Take your time. I’d like to know.”
She hesitated, then said bluntly, “I think I knew at some level right away.”
“Really?”
“Well, I always used to finish off a mission with a meal and a couple of drinks. I never drank again after that night. I told myself it was because I needed to stay out of any more trouble.”
“That would make sense.” He stirred a little, but his gaze never wavered. “I also suspect you guessed. I’ve heard my sisters say they knew almost to the moment, before they were even sure.”
“Well, maybe something happens fast. I don’t know. I just lost all desire to wind down with a drink.” She shrugged her shoulder. “Whatever. When I missed my period, I thought it was stress. But I knew, Seth. Somehow I knew. I did a great job of denial.”
“I can imagine.”
He probably could. Only she hadn’t given him the opportunity to do that. He waited, and finally she decided to tell him more.
“When I missed my second period, I felt like I’d been hit over the head. I couldn’t deny it anymore. I wanted to ignore it, but...well, even as I was getting mad, and having wild urges to run away from reality, I couldn’t ignore it. Even when I couldn’t stand the thought I felt like I had to do what was right for the kid. That meant seeing the doc.”
She closed her eyes briefly. “I can’t explain. I was seriously mixed up for a while, bouncing between fury and despair. I was taking prenatal vitamins and trying to tell myself it wasn’t true. I look back at it and hate myself.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s not me. I don’t run from things. I deal with them.”
“Blame it on shock.”
“Yeah.” She gave an unsteady laugh. “I was still in shock when they grounded me and sent me home. I could have still done the job, you know.”
“I’m sure you could have.”
Again her hand came to rest on her swelling belly. “What’s best for the kid. That stress wouldn’t have been good.”
“It really shook up your life.”
“Top to bottom.” No point in denying it. “Everything changed, and it changed fast. Well, except for the emotional roller coaster. And the morning sickness. It took a while for that to pass.”
“Was it bad?”
“Awful, for a while. And you might as well paint it on a billboard when you show up for duty every morning with soda crackers.”
At that he smiled faintly. “Oops.”
“Yeah.” She shook the tension from her shoulders. “I needed a while to face it all. I kept looking for ways to get around it. Ways I could manage my career and a kid. The two aren’t going to mesh well.”
She looked beyond him, into the past, knowing she was minimizing the turmoil she’d endured as she adjusted. “I felt betrayed,” she admitted. “Not by you, but by my body. God, how many women get pregnant from one time, when a condom is being used? The doc wasn’t sympathetic to that argument. He just said flatly, ‘It happens. Condoms aren’t failure-proof.’ He said next time I should be on the pill.” She shook her head. “Next time? There wasn’t even supposed to be a first time.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No. Don’t even go there. I’m a grown woman. I did something I knew damn well I shouldn’t have. That I’d never done before because I didn’t want to submarine my career. I know it caused some talk about me that I didn’t ever go with a man, but I didn’t care. It was better than what they’d say if I dated the wrong man. Besides, I didn’t want any messes.”
“And I handed you one of the biggest of all.” He looked annoyed again.
“Hey, it took two of us, and I don’t remember protesting.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “At least let me own my share of the blame. It did take the two of us.”
She didn’t say anything, but looked down at her hands resting on her tummy. He drew her too strongly. Getting away from him might be the only smart thing she could do now. But the baby...
She sighed. “But back to the saga. I argued for a while that I could do my job. I believed it, too. Except they were right and after they grounded me, even I could get it. I’d be up there with something to consider besides my job. I could put a lot of people at risk worrying about the baby. And, frankly, I don’t think I was emotionally stable. Not then, maybe not now.”
“What do you mean?”
“I woke up every morning hoping I’d find out I’d been dreaming. Wishing doesn’t make it so. Plus, I started taking things harder. Closer to tears. Closer to anger. My judgment was affected by my emotions. It’s good they grounded me.” He looked so damn sympathetic that she glanced away. “Regardless, after a lot of arguing with myself, I started planning a different future. Then it occurred to me that it wasn’t right not to tell you.”
“That must have thrilled you.”
“Not exactly. But in the end it all comes down to one thing, and it will f
rom here on out—what is best for this baby. It’s a major adjustment. I don’t expect you to make it quickly or easily. You don’t even have to make it at all. But once I got my priorities straight, stressful as it was, things got clearer. Not easier, but clearer.”
He nodded. “I can see that.”
She fell silent, looking down at her hands clasped over her belly. “I’ve had a lot of time to work this through. You deserve some time, too. I should leave and give you space.”
“Quit trying to hightail it, Edie. My role in all that’s coming is better decided by the two of us together. You can walk out and take it all on your shoulders, but what decisions can I make without talking to you? Not very many. I’m not going to pretend it wasn’t a shock. It was. But now I have to deal with it, too.”
When she didn’t speak, he continued.
“We may not have gotten here in the most responsible, thoughtful, well-considered way, but that doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is what we do now. And that’s something that has to be discussed. From now on, we’re linked by a life we created. How we handle that link is everything.”
“I’ve thought about that,” she replied quietly.
“I’m sure you have. Now I have to think about it. I’m sure you’ve considered how to reshape your life, and I’m equally certain that picture didn’t have me in it. Well, now I’m in it, and I’m not walking out of it.”
Everything had grown more complicated. But had she honestly believed she was going to walk out of here with nothing changed? Had she truthfully believed that he’d offer child support or something and then dismiss her? Forget about it?
But she didn’t really know Seth Hardin, and that was a big problem. She knew next to nothing about the kind of person he was out of uniform and she needed to know that before she made any decisions about how little or how much he could have to do with her child. Their child.
God, how stupid could she be? Just come out and make the announcement because it was the right thing to do? Then go back like nothing had happened? Had she really convinced herself of that?
Or had something else been going on?
Damned if she knew. Damn.
“I don’t know you,” she said.
“I don’t really know you, either. That’s our first hurdle. We can’t really decide anything until we get to know each other a little better. Yes, you could go back to duty and I could just write a check once a month, but I won’t be satisfied with that. Not unless I’m convinced there’s no other way.”
It shook her a bit to realize that she’d been expecting exactly that—that he’d want no part of this, other than to write an obligatory check, which she didn’t even want, and she’d get the hell out of this intact with no messy entanglement. That she’d already be on the road with a clear conscience. She had intended to do the right thing, but she hadn’t expected him to do more than the minimum.
What guy wanted a kid this way? None, she had thought. Evidently she had been mistaken. At least about this man.
Messier and messier. She put a hand up and tried to rub the growing tension from her neck.
“This is too intense,” he said. “Too much too fast. You’re exhausted and you must feel like I’m pushing you. How about I show you a guest room. I can set you up with a TV for distraction, or a book, and you can get those damn boots off and relax. We have some time. I don’t want to wear you out.”
It sounded so good, to just have some space and time. She was feeling pushed and overwhelmed, all right. But the thought of staying here, of dealing with Marge, who clearly had her own hopes about this, was daunting. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Marge, it was that she didn’t want her arm twisted, however subtly, and she was certain the woman would find a way.
She was acting like a coward, a whole new view of herself, but she honestly just didn’t want to handle any more. She’d been handling enough of this major life upheaval and needed a break.
“I’ll go to the motel.”
“Like hell.” He hesitated. “All right, if you don’t think you can deal with my family, you can stay at my place. It’s livable. I’ll just come back here for the night. You’ll rest better if you’re not right on the highway directly across from a truck stop.”
It struck her that she was not only being cowardly, but she was also unreasonably discommoding Seth. He probably preferred his own bed in his own house, however torn up it might be. Either way, she wasn’t going to be perfectly comfortable in strange surroundings, so she might as well minimize the inconvenience.
“No,” she said finally. “I’ll just stay here. But I’m exhausted.”
“You look it. Come on.”
He took her to a girlish-looking room that smelled fresh, and the covers on the bed were even turned down. “Water?” he asked.
“Please.”
“Do you get the nibbles at night?”
She flushed faintly. “Sometimes now.”
He smiled. “Eating for two.”
“Not quite. But sort of.”
A chuckle escaped him. “Anything you can’t eat?”
She shook her head. “I’ve been warned away from shellfish, but nothing else.”
“Good enough.”
She was sitting on the edge of the bed working her boots loose when he returned with a tall glass of ice water and a small plate of cookies. “This okay?”
“That’s wonderful.”
He set them on the night table, then squatted. “Let me help with those things. Did you bring a bag?”
“Hell, yeah. I forgot. It’s in the car.”
“I’ll get it.” He worked the laces swiftly and tugged the boots off. “Let the dogs breathe,” he joked. “Be right back.”
She piled the pillows and leaned back, stretching her legs out, feeling almost instant relief. A few minutes later Seth was back with her duffel and placed it on a chair. “No one will bother you. The hall bath is all yours. Mom and Dad have their own. Just make yourself comfortable.”
“I already am,” she admitted.
He paused by the bed, touching her cheek lightly with his fingertips. “You’re a beautiful, brave woman, Edie. Thanks for keeping me in the loop. See you tomorrow.”
Then he slipped out.
She wanted to wash up, brush her teeth, get into something more comfortable. But she felt as if her whole body had turned to lead. Contenting herself with unbuttoning her pants, she reached for the light switch and turned it off.
Sleep claimed her almost before she dropped her arm to the mattress.
* * *
Seth went out to bid his parents good-night. “She’s asleep,” he said. “Just let her be. The woman is worn out.”
“Of course we’ll let her be,” Marge said. “Why would you think otherwise?”
“In the morning, too,” Seth said. “Please.”
Marge pursed her lips. “All I had in mind was pancakes.”
“Sure.”
Nate laughed. “I’ll keep an eye on it. But you know your mother is a good woman.”
“Of course she is. It’s just that I get the feeling Edie has been pushed too much. If you can believe it, her superior officers hinted around for her to get rid of the baby.”
Marge gasped and a frown lowered over Nate’s brow. “Just a little out of line, wouldn’t you say?”
“Completely out of line,” Seth said, agreeing with his father. “But that ought to give you some idea of what she’s dealing with along with having her career plans wrecked and her whole life turned on end. What she needs is space. I intend to give it to her.”
“But,” Marge said quietly, “you two have things to work out.”
“And we will. But not in a pressure cooker. Right now, as stupid as it sounds to say about a woman like her, I want her wrapped in
cotton wool.”
At that Marge smiled. “That’s a good idea. Cotton wool it is.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Stay a few,” Nate said. “We’re having our bedtime coffee. You can’t possibly turn that down.”
Unlike many folks who claimed they couldn’t drink coffee at night, the Tates always did. That last cup seemed important, and when he was here he often joined them.
“There’s one question that hasn’t been asked,” Nate said when Seth returned with his own mug to the table. “How are you feeling about all this?”
“Stunned,” he said frankly. “But it’s wearing off. Now I’m trying to think of ways to take care of this. The last thing I want to do is diminish Edie in any way, but I’m not going to pretend I don’t have a son.”
Nate spoke then. “You admire that woman, don’t you?”
“If you’d seen her hauling us out, you would, too. She took risks she could have refused to take. Her rotors couldn’t have missed the rocks by more than a few inches. She’s strong, she’s brave and she’s determined. And she’s a damned fine pilot.”
“So she flies helicopters?” Marge asked. “What kind?”
“A Pave Hawk, a modified Black Hawk. She comes in to extract downed pilots, units that are in trouble, that kind of thing.”
“She gets shot at.”
“Yes, Mom, she gets shot at.”
Marge cradled her mug in both her hands and fell silent for a little while. Then she said, “I guess she wouldn’t appreciate mothering.”
“Pilots do have a bit of ego,” Seth said in an attempt at humor.
Marge answered tartly. “You mean like SEALs?”
Seth laughed. “Well, not quite as bad.”
Marge flashed a smile. “I just want to understand something, Seth. Why didn’t you have any children with Darlene? I mean, I know it couldn’t have happened with Maria, she died so soon, but Darlene made it almost two years.”
He tensed, feeling a whole lot of stuff flood back that he’d tried to bury. “Because I never knew if I’d be around to see a kid grow up. I was gone a lot, and couldn’t even guarantee to ever come home.”
“Nobody can be sure of that.”