by Rachel Lee
Her eyes widened, then a genuine, delightful laugh escaped her. “That’s so true! Same here.”
He grinned. “I love your laugh.”
The words seemed to hang in the air, stilling it, quieting even the quiet house. Her expression changed, but he couldn’t read it, and he hoped he hadn’t just put his foot in it big-time, although he couldn’t imagine how.
“Thanks,” she said finally. It was almost noncommittal.
Now where to go? She didn’t want to be pressured, understandably, but he had a stake in this, and realized that it was growing more important to him by the hour. “This baby thing?” he said finally, hoping he wouldn’t say it all wrong.
“Yes?”
“I’m starting to really like the idea. Next thing I’ll be buying catcher’s mitts and baseball bats.”
Another laugh escaped her, but it wasn’t as light and easy. “Too soon.”
“I think,” he said slowly, “that was kind of my point. Not everything has to be decided before the baby comes. A general outline would be great, but some of this is just going to have to be flying by the seat of the pants. It must be for everyone.”
She let her head fall back and closed her eyes. At least she wasn’t angry. “I guess I’m trying to deal with this like a mission, take care of all the details ahead of time. And I don’t even know what all the details are yet.”
“No,” he agreed.
She popped open one eye. “You’re serious? You really like the idea of the baby?”
“I really do. More and more as I think about it. So much so that I hope you and I can work out ways to give him the best life possible. I definitely want to be a part of it. As big a part as you’ll allow.”
She stunned him then with a challenge that sounded almost angry. “So then let’s get married and create that nice little family you’re imagining!”
He stared at her.
She laughed and the sound was edgy. “Right. This is always going to be clear skies and sailing. Just patch a few holes in the boat and everything will be right.”
A certainty settled over him. “Okay.”
Her jaw dropped and now both her eyes opened. “Cut it out.”
“I’m serious. I’ll marry you tomorrow. Give the boy a name. A father.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Seth! Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t know me and I don’t know you, and damn it, it would just make things messier. You ought to know that!”
“Messier how? It wouldn’t be the first marriage of convenience. Having a father to look after the child could salvage your career. I’ll go wherever you go and give the boy a stable home. If we discover we can’t stand it, well, maybe divorce wouldn’t be as bad for the kid as not trying at all.”
She swore. “You’ve lost your mind!”
“I don’t think so. Damn it, Edie, I married twice for love. The first time turned into hell anyway. The second...well, I’m not keen to go through that kind of pain again. So why not do it for the kid? We’d set our boundaries, take care of the baby and maybe just be good friends. You could still have your career. The kid gets a stable home. Think you can’t tough it out for twenty years? Somehow I doubt that, given what you’ve done with your life.”
“Toughing it out isn’t my idea of marriage.”
“Maybe not. But what are the risks compared to what we’re considering now? Minimal for you and me. Better for the baby.”
“If we don’t fight like cats and dogs.”
He shook his head. “I’ve got more self-control than that. I think you do, too. So consider this my proposal. Save your career, give the baby the home you’re worrying about, and we’ll deal with each other as two people on a mission.”
“Damn, doesn’t that sound like a SEAL.”
One corner of his mouth lifted, although he didn’t at all feel like smiling. “Think like a pilot. You want to plan the mission? This is the biggest missing piece.”
She slammed the recliner footrest down and stood up. “I’m going to bed. And you’re insane.”
He watched her walk down the hall to his bedroom, then sat back in his own chair. Well, he’d sure riled her.
But he didn’t think he was insane.
Chapter Six
Edie didn’t sleep much. So much for being sleepier as the pregnancy progressed. She tossed and turned, feeling as if Seth had opened a whole new can of worms when she was already trying to deal with a dozen of them.
She also felt as if Mephistopheles were whispering in her ear, tempting her with promises of a return to a seminormal career, of rising again as she had hoped to rise, of returning to flight status and combat status, the chance to once again rescue her comrades in their hour of need.
A devil’s temptation, she thought. Sell her soul for her career? But would it even be selling her soul?
Her confusion and distress reached new heights. She tried to calm herself down for the sake of the child. She understood that her stress could be bad for the baby. But hell, she’d been stressed continuously for months now. What was a little more?
Seth was nuts. A marriage of convenience? Seriously?
But it tempted her. To know that so many details would be taken care of, that the stability she worried about for the child would be provided, yeah, it was tempting.
It was still crazy.
She was sure he was imagining something like the family he’d found with the Tates. Perhaps like his adoptive family. Apparently he had a good background that way. Her, not so much. She hadn’t the foggiest idea how to manage it.
So what the hell was she doing having a baby anyway?
Frustrated, angry, scared, when she got up in the morning, she packed her duffel and headed for the door. She was going back to base. She’d deal with this by herself, because somehow that felt better than letting anyone else step in. Her overwhelming need for control, she supposed. Part of what made her a damn good pilot.
She didn’t get to the front door before she was blocked by Seth. “Running?” he asked casually.
“From a crazy man. I need space.”
“I’ll give it to you here, but I’m not letting you go.”
“You can’t keep me.”
He put his hands on his narrow hips and stared her down. “Damn it, Edie, you know running never fixed a thing. You’re the last person on this planet I would expect to flee. You’ve faced down a helluva lot more than me making a suggestion that marriage might be a solution.”
“Shotgun marriages don’t work.”
“Then say no and I’ll drop it.”
God! She opened her mouth but the word wouldn’t come out. Damn it, it was as if temptation had cast a spell over her. And it wasn’t just about her job, she realized, it was about a damnably attractive guy who she still felt pulled toward as if he were a lodestone. A guy who had broken down years of barriers, taken her to places she couldn’t have even imagined, all in a hurried quickie in a ramshackle room on the other side of the world.
She dropped her duffel. Anger at herself swamped her. She was not like this. She was not. She was always decisive, always figured out her plans, always handled things. And all of a sudden she didn’t want to handle anything. Not one more thing.
“Aw, hell,” Seth said, his entire posture softening. It was only then that she realized tears had begun to run down her face.
She wanted to turn away, to hide them, but before she could do so he closed the distance, wrapped his arms around her and carried her to a recliner. He placed her on his lap, tipped back and wound her in his strong embrace, just holding her.
“Shh,” he murmured softly, and to her amazement she felt him stroke her hair. “It’s been hell for you. But you’re not alone now.”
That broke through the last of her resistance and the tears began to
run freely. For the first time in a long time, sobs ripped through her. For the first time in a long time she honestly felt that she might not be alone.
She wanted to rail against the weakness, but she couldn’t. It just felt so damn good to be held, to be with someone who was sharing the problems. The tough exterior she’d built in a man’s world was crumbling, and it frightened her, but it felt good, too.
“I never cry,” she hiccupped. “At least not until I got pregnant.”
“I cry sometimes,” he said quietly. “Everyone needs to, once in a while.”
The sobbing eased, but the tears continued for a while longer. Months of stress, anguish, worry...all of it seemed to be pouring out through her eyes. Seth continued to hold her close, as if trying to let her know he cared and was there with her.
But how could he care? He didn’t know her. Or maybe in some ways he did. He certainly didn’t seem to dislike her. She dashed at her eyes, wiped her face on her sleeve, but when she tried to sit up he wouldn’t let her.
“Just rest. Just let the calm come. You know how to do it. You’ve been calm in worse situations.”
He was right. She drew a deep breath and sought that familiar place that always accompanied her when she climbed into a cockpit. That wasn’t so hard. And it did feel so good to lie against him with her head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Never had she done that before. Never.
“So the baby is moving, right?” he asked.
“Plenty. Very active little guy.”
“Can I feel it sometime?”
Since the baby was now poking her gently—a foot or a hand, she didn’t know—she took his hand and placed it over the spot where she could feel the small pressure. After a few moments, he said, “Wow!”
“Yeah,” she agreed, her voice rusty. “It’s amazing.”
And it was. She loved it. If there was one thing she loved about this whole situation, it was feeling that life inside her. Every movement was a reminder, a promise, a joy. It was only when she got buried in the other stuff that she lost sight of the joy.
“You know,” he said, with his hand still on her belly to feel the stirring baby, “it’s not every day a guy gets a proposal from an ace pilot.”
That drew a weak laugh from her. “I was being sarcastic.”
“I know. But I wasn’t.”
She caught her breath, feeling that sinuous pull of her attraction to him. She tried to tug away from it, but that was hard to do when she was lying in his lap and against his chest this way. Damn, he even smelled good, like fresh air and soap. And like man. Never before had she allowed herself to appreciate that last scent, but she was appreciating it now. Desires she had kept in cold storage except for one night were thawing again. Damn, that would only complicate things. She fought around for something else to think of.
“Don’t you believe in love?” she asked him finally.
“Absolutely. It’s a wonderful thing. I’ve been in love twice. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it takes more than love to make a relationship. You can start with love or not, but in the long run you need friendship, trust, understanding, patience. Hell, Edie, I know from experience that marriage is a lot of work, much of it unexpected. Getting all dewy-eyed at the start won’t change that. I’ve watched my parents work at it. I’ve had to work at it.”
“But why do the work without love?”
“Maybe because you have a kid. Anyway, I’m not pressuring you, but I meant it. I’ll marry you today, tomorrow or six months from now. My main point is that you’ve been dealing with this all on your own for months now. You’re not alone any longer. I’ll do everything I possibly can to help.”
“Thank you,” she said finally. Her voice cracked. God, she hated that she felt so weak right now, so alone, so overwhelmed. What had happened to that woman who had come marching out here to do her duty and then skedaddle? Yet lying here like this, she felt an ache of need for what Seth was offering: not to have to face all this by herself.
Weakness? Or good sense?
Almost as if he had read her mind, he remarked, “How many people do you rely on when you get in your helo? Ground crew, maintenance, copilot, door gunner...” He trailed off, letting her think about it. A few minutes later he added, “Yes, you take the responsibility as pilot, but you’re relying on others to do their share. We all do. Hell, I had a whole team. We were as tightly knotted in our dependency on each other as a rat’s nest, only as good as our weakest link. If we’re really honest with ourselves, none of us gets through life truly alone. Well except maybe for a hermit, and somebody has to bring him food.”
That drew another small laugh from her. She thought about what he was saying, though, and realized his points were valid. There was a difference between shouldering responsibility and depending on no one else. A huge difference.
He lifted his hand from her belly and gave her a gentle squeeze. “We’ll figure it out, Major. That’s what we’re trained to do after all.”
* * *
Seth got her to change out of her cammies and into her few civvies, and put her duffel back in his bedroom.
“Just promise me,” he said, “promise me that you won’t try to take off again for a week or two. You have the leave time.”
She suddenly recalled that he’d had a woman walk out on him before. Hadn’t she just faced that yesterday when they had their minifight in the car? What had she been thinking and why did she keep trying to run?
Maybe that was the question that she should be pondering. Did she fear she might give him more of herself than he would want? That she would come to care and thus get hurt? If so, she had just won the chicken award.
She didn’t run from things. At least not until this. God, she was turning into a wimp. She stiffened her spine. “Then I need some more clothes. Unless you have a washer I can use every night.”
“Waste of water. Want to go back to Freitag’s and see if you can find something else you like enough to wear?”
At least it would change the subject and give her something else to think about for an hour. Maternity clothes. She was still having trouble with that.
“It’s not far. Can we walk? Because I really need the exercise.”
He smiled. “Of course. And I’ll help carry things back.”
The quiet streets enchanted her. Big old trees, changing before the winds of late fall, created a near-tunnel over the sidewalks. The houses, most of them small and older, showed a lot of loving care for the most part, although the lawns would have failed inspection on a military base.
But she liked it, liked the cool, dry breeze, the rustling of those changing leaves, the sense of peace that permeated the place. “Does anything happen around here?”
“Oh, yeah. Every so often my dad used to announce that the place was going to hell in a handbasket.”
“When he was sheriff?”
“Yeah. Things happen here the way they happen anywhere. Most people here are good people, though. Great neighbors. If it was ever any more peaceful than it is now, I wouldn’t know. Sometimes I think Dad was exaggerating, but obviously I have a different metric.”
“To say the least.” She looked at him from the corner of her eye. Damn, he was handsome. It was as if his life had honed him to near perfection. Every single time she wasn’t worrying the issue of the baby, the attraction slammed her again. If she wasn’t careful, a one-night stand could turn into multiple nights. She wasn’t sure she could handle that.
The thought of his suggestion of a marriage of convenience wafted through her mind again. She wanted to quash it immediately, for fear she might seize it as an easy solution that would turn out to be anything but easy. But the idea drew her almost as much as he did. Still, some part of her rebelled at turning the raising of their child into a mission. A mission? Shouldn’t it be somethi
ng more than that?
Yet what was a mission, really? A duty, an act of necessity at great risk to accomplish a stated goal. Why should life be any different? She almost sighed. “So you’re thinking about becoming a deputy?”
“I don’t know,” he said frankly. “I’m still working my way back to being a civilian. I have a built-in hair trigger after all these years. I’m not certain that would be the best thing in law enforcement.”
“So you need time.”
“Some, anyway. We’re both going through major changes. I’m sure you get it.”
Indeed she did.
As they drew nearer to the downtown, she noticed that the houses increased in size, big gracious buildings from before the Second World War. Not huge, by any means, but they struck her as solid and enduring, unlike much of what she’d known in her life. The street grew a little wider, the lawns a little better tended. Yet still no one was out and about except for a rare passing car. Folks around here must work or be very busy somehow. The quiet of the place, the peacefulness of it, called to her. She’d known little enough of it over the years.
They were approaching Freitag’s when a woman of about forty with shaggy, short, blond-streaked hair accosted them. She wore a blue flight suit and called out, “Hey, bro, what’s the rush?”
The woman turned out to be Wendy Yuma, Seth’s sister, the flight nurse he had mentioned.
“You must be Edie Clapton,” Wendy said warmly after Seth introduced her.
So the news was out, Edie realized. Well, of course she couldn’t have expected Marge Tate to keep quiet among the family. Her stomach fluttered. Or maybe it was the baby. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too.” Wendy smiled as they shook hands. “I haven’t got a whole lot of time. I need to get back to the station. How about we do dinner at my place a soon as I can figure out when the schedule is clear? Barring an emergency, that is. Are you guys going to the diner?”
Edie flushed faintly. “I need some more clothes.”
“Well, good luck at Freitag’s. They have some maternity stuff but not much. Mainly because the mothers around here exchange it constantly. I hope you’re not into froufrou because they don’t have it.”