The Soldier's Twin Surprise

by Judy Duarte

  Sergeant Erica Campbell was a professional. A medic and a dedicated soldier. She loved her job, too. And she’d made it clear that she had no intention of giving it up.

  And neither would he.

  * * *

  For the next few weeks, Rickie went about her usual duties, which kept her mind busy during the day. Nights, however, were a different story.

  She’d lost count of the number of times she’d dreamed about a romantic evening on the beach, slow dancing with a handsome cowboy, resting her cheek against his broad, muscular chest, hearing the gentle thumps of his heart and relishing his charming Texas drawl.

  Then she’d wake up to reality.

  She had no business dreaming about Captain Clay Masters now, let alone sleeping with him back then. Sure, it had been an easy mistake to make and one that was explainable, if they were ever questioned about it. Intellectually, she knew that. But tell that to the memory that continued to batter her heart.

  She’d never believed in love at first sight, but it seemed as if she’d experienced more than a memorable orgasm that night. Apparently, there’d been an emotional connection, too. If not, then why would that evening continue to play out in her mind whether she was awake or asleep?

  Heck, here she was, wrapping up the last hour of her shift at the clinic and daydreaming about the guy again. She couldn’t seem to catch a break.

  As she passed by the supply cabinet, her commanding officer called out, “Erica? Can you give me a hand?”

  Rickie turned to Captain Veronica Nguyen, a petite brunette who was a physician’s assistant—and probably the best the military had to offer. Not only was she a sharp diagnostician, but she had a great bedside manner.

  “What’s up?” Rickie asked.

  “I have to suture a patient, and the injury is a bit complex. Will you assist?”

  “Of course.” Rickie appreciated having the distraction.

  As they walked toward one of the exam rooms, the captain slowed her steps and pointed to the bulletin board that hung on the wall. “Oh, that reminds me. I’m taking leave on Friday. My grandmother is in the hospital and isn’t doing well, so I’m going to fly back to the mainland to visit her and to check on her myself.”

  “That’s too bad,” Rickie said. “I hope it’s not serious.”

  “Me, too.” The captain pointed to the calendar. “Yesterday afternoon, I marked off the days that I’ll be gone, but I didn’t get a chance to tell you. Captain Schwartz is going to cover for me.”

  “No problem. I’m sure we’ll be okay.” Rickie glanced at the red line that stretched through the following week, and a troubling thought crossed her mind.

  She counted backward to the day she’d met Clay on the North Shore and then to her last period.

  Uh-oh. She was late. And she’d always been regular. Could she be...?

  No, that wasn’t possible. They’d used protection that night.

  Of course, things had been pretty heated. They might have gotten a little reckless while caught up in passion. Also she’d had that condom for a long time. Had she kept it past the expiration date?

  Cut it out, Rickie. You’re letting your imagination take flight.

  There had to be another reason for skipping a period. Nerves and stress could do a real number on a person’s health and their hormones. This was probably just a fluke. Or a miscalculation of some kind. That would explain it.

  Yet she couldn’t deny that it was possible. She could be pregnant. And if she was, having a baby was going to be a real game changer in terms of her future plans and goals.

  Oddly enough, as unsettling as that reality might be, a quiver of excitement built. If she were to have a child, a son or daughter to love and care for, she’d have a family again.

  In time, she might have handled the losses fate had dealt her fairly well, but she’d been devastated when Lainie died, and to this day it felt as if a large part of her heart and soul was missing.

  Maybe that’s what was going on. Rickie wanted to be part of a family so badly that her psyche was playing a trick on her and her body was going along with it. She wasn’t pregnant. She just wanted to be so she could have someone to love.

  But there would be plenty of time to have a baby in the future—when she was married and had a house to bring her little one home to.

  So she shook off the stray thought and hurried to the exam room to assist Captain Nguyen. She even managed to get through the last hour of her day without dwelling on the possibility that she and Clay had conceived a baby.

  That was, until she walked out to her car and spotted him again. He was wearing a flight suit and headed toward one of the hangars. She expected him to continue on his way, but when their eyes met, her heart flip-flopped. And when he crossed the street and walked toward her, her heart rumbled in her chest.

  “How’s it going?” he asked, that slight Texas twang a calming caress, soothing her like his hands once had.

  Funny you should ask, she was tempted to say. My period is late, and I might be...

  Again, she shook off the possibility, as well as the urge to even bring up the topic. “I’m fine. Same old, same old.”

  She glanced at his uniform—the flight suit he wore so well. Her gaze traveled up to his face, to those dazzling green eyes.

  If they were to have a baby, would its eyes...?

  Oh, for Pete’s sake, Rickie. Stop it.

  “Are you heading out or coming in?” she asked.

  “Going out. Night training on the Big Island.”

  She nodded, wondering which medic would be joining his squadron and wishing it was her. Not tonight, of course. But...maybe someday.

  “I’d like to talk to you,” he said.

  “About...?”

  He scanned their surroundings, then lowered his voice to a near whisper. “About that night.”

  Under normal circumstances, she might have told him that wasn’t a good idea to broach the subject. Wouldn’t it be best if they forgot it all together?

  Yeah, right. If there’d been any way she could do that, she would have done it already. And if her period didn’t show up soon, she’d have something to talk to him about, too.

  “All right,” she said. “Maybe some time next week?”

  He nodded his agreement. “We could meet in Waikiki.”

  She was tempted to suggest someplace on the North Shore, but that was a bad idea. And one that was wrong.

  “Have you gotten that bonus?” he asked.

  “I haven’t reupped yet.” And if she actually was pregnant, she’d have to rethink that decision. She’d be a single mother, and if she were deployed, she wouldn’t have anyone to take care of the baby. Talk about unexpected surprises.

  As if he could read her mind, Clay blessed her with a charming grin.

  What was that about? Did he sense she was facing a dilemma of some kind? Did he think she would reconsider an Army career so she’d be free to date him?

  As contrary as that might be to her career goal, a small, girlish side of her hoped that’s what he meant.

  “Hey, Masters,” another soldier called out from a nearby hangar.

  Clay turned to him. “What’s up?”

  “Major Ramos is looking for you.”

  Clay nodded toward the hangar. “I’d better go. I’ll see you later.”

  “All right.” In the meantime, she’d have to find out if she really was expecting a baby.

  It would be easy enough to have a test at the clinic, but she didn’t want anyone to know her secret. Not yet. So she’d have to purchase a kit that she could use in the privacy of her bathroom.

  If the test turned out positive, she’d have to tell Clay. Wouldn’t she?

  A child deserved to know its father, especially if he was an upright, admirable man. A leader. A protector.

  She took one last look at the Black Hawk commander who was striding toward a nearby hangar. They might have thought their sexual encounter was a onetime thing, but the result o
f it could be a lot more lasting than that. Especially if they were going to be parents.

  But first things first. She’d have to find out for sure. And if the test results were negative, she could get her mind back on an even keel.

  And off the man who’d occupied her dreams ever since the night they’d met.

  Chapter Four

  The next morning, right after Rickie entered the clinic, Captain Nguyen met her near the supply room. Her dark hair was pulled into a tight military bun, and she was dressed in uniform, but the expression she wore was more serious than usual.

  “Is something wrong?” Rickie asked.

  “Not here at the clinic. It’s just that...” She slowly shook her head and sighed. “I hate bad news.”

  Had the captain’s grandmother taken a turn for the worse? Had she passed away during the night? Rickie didn’t want to pry, so she awaited the explanation she hoped was coming.

  “There was a flight mishap on the Big Island last night,” Captain Nguyen said. “A Black Hawk went down at the Pohakuloa Training Area.”

  Rickie’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. Clay had gone out on a night training. Had he been involved?

  Maybe not. But he certainly would know the soldiers who were. He also might have been part of the rescue operation, which would have been tough.

  Still, he could have been injured, although she prayed he wasn’t. Yet fear continued to build until she couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

  “Was...” She cleared her throat, trying to dislodge the worry and any sign of emotional involvement. “Was anyone injured?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. One of the squadron commanders got the worst of it, although he’ll pull through.”

  An overwhelming sense of dread hung over her like rain-drenched cammies, weighing her down and chilling her to the bone. Her pulse thundered in her ears and a tsunami of curiosity flooded her thoughts.

  She had a slew of questions to fire at the captain, but she bit her tongue, knowing she had to remain professional. And removed from any personal involvement.

  Finally, she asked, “Do you know who was injured?”

  “Captain Masters and Sergeant Clemmons, the crew chief. They were treated at the scene, then airlifted to Tripler.”

  Panic struck hard, balling up in Rickie’s throat, making it hard to breathe, let alone speak. But then again, Captain Nguyen had said the injuries weren’t life threatening, which was a relief.

  “How badly was he—or rather, they—hurt?” Rickie asked.

  Captain Nguyen eyed her intently—maybe even suspiciously. She didn’t say a word, but her expression seemed to ask, Why the special interest?

  Rickie wasn’t about to admit that she’d had a one-night fling with the Black Hawk commander—albeit after a case of mistaken identity. And even though they’d agreed to go their own ways, she felt a connection to him, one that might now include a baby.

  But the complexity of her weird feelings was hard enough for her to understand, let alone to put into words that would make sense. Either way, she regretted that she hadn’t picked up a home pregnancy test yesterday. No matter how complicated a positive result might be, she needed to know for sure.

  “It’s always tough to hear about serious training injuries and flight mishaps,” Captain Nguyen said. “But let’s try to put it behind us. We have a full schedule today.”

  Rickie nodded, hoping she could do just that. But the CO had implied those injuries were serious, even if they weren’t life threatening. So once her shift at the clinic ended, she was going to drive out to Tripler Army Medical Center in Honolulu and check on Clay’s condition herself. Surely a hospital visit wouldn’t be considered fraternization.

  But right now, she didn’t care if it was.

  * * *

  Clay had drifted in and out of consciousness all day, thanks to what the attending medic had called head trauma and the pain meds he’d been given. His leg hurt like hell and was in traction. One of his eyes was bandaged, and his vision in the other was blurred. He assumed he’d gotten a serious concussion, because his thoughts were scrambled and he wasn’t entirely sure what had happened.

  Now, as a physician stood at his bedside, explaining the extent of his injuries, he tried his best to focus.

  “You did a real number on your knee, but it’ll heal and, given time and physical therapy, you shouldn’t have trouble walking. But I’m afraid that leg may never be at one hundred percent. You also have a head injury that damaged your optic nerve. You may not lose your vision in that eye, but it’s likely to be impaired. That all being said, it looks like you won’t be fit for duty. So you’ll be getting a medical discharge.”

  Clay’s brain had been scrambled. Maybe he hadn’t heard that right. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re not going to be fit for duty, son. As far as the military is concerned, it’s case closed. But on the bright side, you’ll be able to do most of the things you’re used to doing.”

  “Can I fly again?” he asked.

  “With a vision defect, it’s doubtful.”

  Clay closed his good eye as disappointment swirled like a Texas twister, wreaking havoc in his disjointed thoughts. Maybe he’d wake up and this would be a bad dream. A hallucination triggered by pain pills.

  “Do you have any questions?” the doctor asked.

  “Yeah. Are you sure about that discharge?”

  The doctor nodded. “I’m afraid so, son. The military puts the needs of the aircraft and the crew above those of the individual. You must be operationally ready and fit for duty at all times.”

  Clay turned to him, his good eye attempting to focus on the shadowy figure before him. “You don’t know me, Doc. I heal quickly. And I’ll work harder than anyone else. I’ll be back at one hundred percent before you know it.”

  “The ultimate decision is out of my hands. It’s up to the MEB and the PEB.”

  The medical and physical evaluations boards. A bunch of upper-level doctors who decided who got to stay and who had to be medically discharged. Was this really happening?

  “I’m sorry to be giving you bad news,” the doctor said.

  It wasn’t just bad. It was devastating. Sure, Clay would recover. And he’d walk again. He could handle the pain and the extensive rehab he was facing. He was tough and determined to heal. But none of that seemed to matter when his military career was over.

  The head injury, a serious concussion, was no big deal. He’d had one when he’d crashed his bike and another when he’d played football in high school. He’d suffered a multiple fracture in his leg. He could deal with that, too. But the fatal blow, the parting shot, was the damage to his eye, the effect it would have on his vision. And that meant he couldn’t fly.

  Everything he loved—the Army, piloting Black Hawks, commanding a squadron—was being taken away from him. And the reality sent his hope plummeting.

  What in the hell did he have left?

  Talk about tailspins. His entire identity lay in his military service. If not a soldier and a pilot, who was he?

  A rancher? A farmer?

  He closed his good eye once more and blew out a ragged sigh.

  “You were lucky,” Dr. Simmons said.

  Clay didn’t feel the least bit lucky. His injuries hadn’t killed him, which should make him happy. But they’d put a complete halt to his military career. Hell, even if he wanted to work as a crop duster—and he damn sure didn’t—he wouldn’t be able to.

  He tried his best to look on the bright side. He was going home to Texas, where he still had friends and family. But that didn’t lift his mood in the least.

  Life as he knew it, as he’d always dreamed it would be, was over. And as far as he was concerned, nothing was going to make him feel better.

  * * *

  It seemed like forever before Rickie was able to leave the clinic and drive to Tripler, a huge coral-pink structure located on the slopes of Moanalua Ridge. If Clay had to be treated anywhere, this was the place. Trip
ler was the largest military hospital serving the Asian and Pacific Rims.

  On the drive down the H-1 to the H-201, she gripped the steering wheel with clammy hands. By the time she parked, entered the hospital and learned where his room was located, her heart was pounding like thundering luau drums, and her legs felt as immobile as tree stumps. But she managed to follow the directions she’d been given.

  She paused in the doorway and spotted the bed where a single male patient lay. She’d been told his injuries weren’t life threatening, but they had to hurt like hell. His head was bandaged, one eye was covered in gauze and his right leg was in traction.

  Her first impulse was to hurry to his bedside to soothe him, to caress his face and whisper words of comfort. She’d always been a nurturer. But then again, maybe in this case, she merely wanted to be near the man with whom she’d once been intimate.

  Either way, she held her emotions in check and entered slowly, her boot steps making far more noise than she’d like.

  “Hey,” she said, gentling her voice as if she were approaching a stray dog with a wounded paw.

  Clay turned to the door, and when he spotted her, recognition dawned in the eye that wasn’t bandaged, but he didn’t even offer the hint of a smile. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  He was right, but checking in on him had been a growing compulsion she hadn’t been able to squelch. “I heard you were going to be hospitalized for a while, and since I was in the neighborhood, I thought I’d stop by to see you.”

  He didn’t respond, but she approached his bed anyway. “Captain Nguyen told me about the flight mishap. I was sorry to hear about it.”

  “Not as sorry as me.” He turned his head away and glanced out the window.

  Had it been his fault? Was he assuming responsibility for the downed helicopter? Did he feel as if he’d caused his crew chief’s injury?

  “Those things happen,” she said.

  “Not to me.”

  Okay, then. She’d dealt with surly patients before. In this case, she figured it was the pain he was in, the medication they’d given him.

  “I could sneak you in some better food,” she said. “Maybe a big juicy cheeseburger with all the fixings. Some chocolate cake...”