Chapter 19
Go with the flow. Blend in.
—The Moscow Rules
“This is the best choice,” JJ, in full executive mode, pronounced when all the upstairs rooms had been looked into. “It’s small, and see the shelves? Plenty of storage. It’s probably been a baby’s room at some time, or maybe a sewing room. That oak tree outside will be fully leafed out in a couple of weeks, so the room will be shaded in the afternoon.”
Julia probably wouldn’t be here in a couple of weeks. Bronwyn didn’t want to think about that. When she was a little girl, she used to dream nightly of going out and finding sick and wounded people and animals and bringing them home to care for them and heal them. The dreams had been part of how she had known she was destined to be a doctor. But wanting to keep Julia and care for her was different. Julia was well. And still Bronwyn wouldn’t want to let her go. She pulled her mind from that path.
“I’m not sure. Yesterday, the door was stuck closed,” she told them. “What if it stuck with Julia on one side and me on the other?”
David swung the door on its hinges. “It’s fine now.”
“It’s probably warped,” Garth added. “If it shows signs of sticking again, I’ll plane it down a little.”
They were all standing around looking at her, including Julia, who was being carried by Garth, and Mildred, who insisted on being in on the decision.
Bronwyn shook her head. “Even with the door fixed, I won’t be comfortable with her so far away. I’m not used to listening for a baby—and I might not know what to listen for. I hear odd things all the time in this house. I’d either be racing up here every few minutes, or I’d be on edge, afraid I was ignoring noises when I shouldn’t.”
JJ’s husband smiled his engaging, teasing smile. “You ‘hear things’? What? Don’t tell me you have a ghost!”
“No! I am not telling you that.”
“You’re sure?” David glanced around the room with renewed interest. “I think having a ghost might be kind of cool.”
She tried a chilling look. “Yes, I’m sure.”
Davy, unfortunately, was irrepressible. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of ghosts,” he taunted, full of mischief.
“Of course not. There’s no such thing.”
Realizing she was not amused, David grew earnest. “I grew up believing in an afterlife. We have lots of stories in my family about people who have passed coming back to communicate. The thought of spirits hanging around a place doesn’t seem impossible to me.”
“I’d have to see a lot of proof to believe it,” Garth put in.
“So would I,” Davy acknowledged. “But if there’s one thing SEAL training teaches you, it’s not to assume you—or the enemy—can’t do something just because it’s impossible.”
“Right.” Garth smiled at his friend with gentle affection. “Even coming back from the dead.”
The smile changed Garth’s face so utterly that Bronwyn was momentarily transfixed. She had already begun to guess that the hard, stiff look he frequently wore was a mask. For a nanosecond, she had a glimpse of who he might be underneath it.
When Garth resumed his customary expression, she felt irritated, out of sorts. “Would you stop with the talk about ghosts?” she snapped. “If you want to know the truth, having a bunch of unexplained phenomena pisses me off. I have all I can do to renovate this place and turn it into a home office with living quarters upstairs. I don’t need a great big mystery. I’m looking for a simpler life.”
Three pairs of adult eyes stared at her in stupefaction.
JJ put everyone’s amazement into words. “You think starting a medical practice where one hasn’t succeeded for thirty years (and you’re going to have to work another job in an ER to support it) while rehabbing a house that is going to take a lot of work is simpler?”
“Okay. Maybe ‘simpler’ isn’t the word. It’s that I’m new here. I don’t want to begin by having to explain the inexplicable. First impressions matter, and I don’t want any suggestion of woo-woo associated with me or this house.” She squeezed her eyes closed in exasperation. “I don’t even want to joke about it! Do you know how many people will assume I’m incompetent if word gets out that I’m hearing ghosts?”
JJ gave her a look of narrow-eyed assessment. “Would you think you were incompetent if you heard ghosts?”
Bronwyn sidestepped. “It just makes me nervous, that’s all. Because I don’t know what’s causing it. I hate wondering if I’m imagining things.”
JJ nodded, satisfied for the moment. “Back to problem solving. If you’re worried about hearing Julia, how about one of those baby monitors?”
Garth’s arctic-blue eyes lit up. “Now that you’ve given me the idea, JJ, I can do better than that!” He unlatched Julia’s hand from his hair and propped her on a hip. “How about a webcam, Bronny? I’ll put one where the crib and anything approaching it will be covered. Open your laptop, and you’ll be able to see and hear her anywhere you are. Will that give you peace of mind?”
Bronny? No one as diminutive as Bronwyn needed to be called by a diminutive nickname too. It was hard enough for her to be taken seriously. The time to nip the nickname was now… but there was something about a man who wanted to give her peace of mind. She nodded slowly. “That will work.”
“Then should we bring the crib up here and start setting it up?” David looked to Garth—not to her—for direction, Bronwyn noted.
And Garth answered. “Looks like we have a baby’s room.”
***
“Has Bronwyn got tools? The crib’s going to need reassembly,” Davy told Garth, now that the upstairs baby’s room had been selected. “And who knows whether all the hardware is still with it? I didn’t check.”
“No problem. I brought my tool belt with me this morning, and I should have anything else we need in the utility box in my truck.”
“Tool belt, huh?” Davy grinned and cocked an eyebrow.
The brow didn’t go up the same as it used to, but Garth had to admit that even with the scars, Davy was still one good-looking dude. He was glad Davy was taken. Garth punched Davy’s biceps. “Shut up.”
***
“Do you know a guy named Renfro?” Garth asked after he and Davy had spent a few minutes catching up and Garth had related the whole story of how he found the baby. He didn’t think Renfro knew any more about the baby than anyone else had—MacMurtry, who had been there to pick him up, hadn’t been aware. But Renfro was the only missing piece.
Filling Davy in was a field-command decision that Garth was comfortable with. Though Davy wasn’t officially “read in” on all Coastal Air did, he had a high security clearance. Garth needed input, and for sure, he trusted Davy more than anyone he currently worked with. Davy, at least, wasn’t one of the perpetrators. Typical of Davy, he hadn’t asked if Garth knew what he was doing. Garth had missed Davy, and he hadn’t known how much until he saw him.
He hadn’t known Davy that long before the injuries that had sidelined them both. Davy had joined Garth’s platoon in Afghanistan halfway through their deployment, replacing their former hospital corpsman. The mix that makes a SEAL platoon gel is as hard to quantify as an alchemist’s formula, but everyone recognized that when Davy came, some magical ingredient had been added. The little band of sixteen men that Garth commanded went from very good to extraordinary.
Davy had something—in addition to sheer masculine beauty that made women flutter and even heterosexual men’s heads turn. He had a joie de vivre, a shining élan that the dirt and darkness of battle didn’t cling to.
“You think Renfro’s a SEAL?” Davy broke in on Garth’s ruminations.
“Could be.” Asking if Davy knew Renfro wasn’t quite the shot in the dark it might have seemed. The SEALs were a fairly small group, a tight brotherhood, and reputations preceded them.
“
Doesn’t ring a bell. Want me to ask around?”
“Better to just keep your eyes and ears open. This is some bad juju. You are better off out of it.”
“Okay, but I don’t know how much I’ll hear. I’m pretty out of touch. These days, I take every TDY to Lejeune I can get. I’m living right or something. I get every one I put in for.”
“Do you see any of the guys from the platoon I led in Afghanistan?”
Davy shook his head. “All reassigned.”
It was possible that all had shipped off somewhere in the intervening months. He and Davy had been the only ones severely wounded. But coupled with someone’s willingness to send Davy off base any time he asked, it fit with what MacMurtry had implied: someone wanted anyone who knew how the ambush had gone down to be far, far away.
“Have you ever remembered any of what happened that day?” Davy would know which day he meant.
“Nah. The docs say that with my kind of head injury, I most likely never will.” In other words, Davy wouldn’t be able to testify in an investigation—which might explain why he alone was still in Little Creek, even part of the time. “Sometimes I have dreams that seem to be about that day, but you know how dreams are. They don’t make a lot of sense. JJ thinks I’m dreaming about a near-death experience.”
Every sense Garth had went on high alert, but he kept his tone casual. “Near-death experience? Do you believe in those?”
Davy shrugged. “What’s to believe? It happens. You remember ‘Do-Lord’ Dulaude—you went to his wedding? He’s interested in that kind of thing. And speaking of him, you know, you should ask him to keep his ears open for you.”
“Do-Lord?” Davy and Do-Lord had served together on Davy’s first Afghanistan tour. Garth didn’t really know Do-Lord. He’d attended the wedding only because Davy had wanted to go and was still restricted from driving. “I thought he retired.”
“Officially, he did. But he’s still working for the navy. He sold ’em on letting him research ESP in the Teams.”
Garth snorted. “He’s not a flake, is he?”
“Nah. He’s not sitting in a locked rooms staring into a crystal ball. He’s going with teams on operations, observing. Trying to learn if ESP can be taught. Gotta admit, it could save a lot of lives. Word is, his research has support from way high up. I’ve even heard Admiral Stephenson had a hand in getting him the contract. More likely, though, it was that senator—what’s his name?”
“Calhoun.”
“Right—Calhoun was at his wedding. Supposedly, it’s Do-Lord’s wife who is some kind of kin to the senator, but if you ask me, there’s more to that association than meets the eye.”
Interesting. But Garth ignored the temptation to gossip. “So how can Do-Lord help me?”
“He goes everywhere. And can talk to anyone, any rank. If your man Renfro is a SEAL and there’s scuttlebutt to be picked up, Do-Lord can do it. Let me tell him why you’re looking.”
***
“Hold that side of the crib up, will you, while I get this screw positioned,” Garth told Davy. He lifted the cordless screwdriver.
When the screw was in place, Garth sorted through the pile of hardware for another the same size. “Listen, there’s something else I need to ask you.”
“Shoot.”
“You had a reputation with the ladies before you married JJ.”
“Yeah?”
“I just wondered if you could give me any tips.”
“What kind of tips?”
“Like… how to get a girl to like you.” God, he sounded like a teenager. Hell, he felt like a teenager. Fortunately blushes didn’t show under the dark tan of his cheeks.
Over the side of the crib he was holding, Davy gave Garth a puzzled look. “Tips on how to get laid?—you don’t need those. You do okay.”
Garth shook his head, unable to elucidate.
“Someone you’re serious about?” Davy hazarded. “Are we talking about Bronwyn?”
“Yeah.”
“Uh-oh. This is not good. Bronwyn’s messed up, man.”
Garth’s self-consciousness vanished. Bronwyn seemed fine to him. “Messed up, how?” he demanded.
“She was engaged to this guy, a cop. He got killed in the line of duty. JJ says she’s not over it yet.”
“Killed recently?”
“About a year ago, I guess.”
Garth relaxed. He positioned the screwdriver and pressed the switch. When he’d set the screw, he brushed away a trace of sawdust with his thumb. “So he’s out of the picture. Tough for him. Good for me.”
“Oh, boy!” Davy’s brown eyes glittered with mischief. “Darth Vader’s in love. Planning to show her your light saber, are you? Wahhm-wahhmm!” He made light saber noises in time with crudely explicit gyrations.
“Cut the crap.”
Davy’s brown eyes widened in surprise, although they continued to twinkle. “You’re serious. I mean, I saw the tool belt, but you’re serious.”
“What does that mean?” Garth growled dangerously. What was so hard to believe?
“I just never expected to see it.” Davy laughed. “Darth Vader head over heels!”
Garth felt his face go tight. “I have a part-titanium thigh bone, but I have still a heart.”
Doc came around to Garth’s side of the crib and squeezed his shoulder, contrite. “I know you do,” he said softly. “Sorry.” He knelt beside Garth and started sorting screws. “Okay, you know the part about getting clean, right? Women have a much more discriminating sense of smell than men do.”
Garth worked on not being insulted by such elementary instruction. He’d asked for advice. Now he had to listen to it. “Yeah.”
Except he’d shown up at her house yesterday in clothes dirty and sweaty from a day of working on planes in the heat. And if that weren’t enough, he’d come back after a dip in eau de ditch water. No wonder kissing him wasn’t an experience she wanted to repeat.
Today he’d shown up showered and shaved but still in work clothes. She was used to dealing with professional men, and he’d let her think he was a maintenance worker at Coastal Air. All right, he couldn’t reveal his real job, but he could show her that he cleaned up good.
“And I know the navy sent you to charm school,” Davy continued. He referred to the required course in etiquette and manners that was part of officer training. “You know your manners. You want to use ’em. Treat her like a lady.”
Had he opened a door for her or held a chair? Had he even said “please” or “thank you”? No, he’d let her think she was so negligible that he didn’t even remember meeting her before. And instead of bringing her flowers this morning, he’d brought her a doorknob. All right, he would fix that, too.
“Manners. Check. But can’t you give me a little more? You had the reputation as the biggest lady-killer in the Special Operations Command. Tell me what you used to do.”
Davy stared at the ceiling for a minute, deep in thought. “Well, once you have the basics, it’s mostly about making her feel good. If she accepts feeling good from you, you’ve probably got a chance.”
“A chance?” She’d let him rub her back for a minute this morning. She hadn’t stiffened up or pulled away.
“To make it with her. Some girls are impervious. Even yours truly didn’t score every time. You might as well find out in the beginning if this girl will let you make her feel good. Back in the day, I always made eye contact and smiled. You know, let her know she was attractive. A lot of it is in the smile. Smile for me.”
Garth spread his lips. He didn’t have an attractive social smile, and he knew it. Until now, he hadn’t felt its lack.
Davy recoiled. “Okay. That’s not good. We need to try something else. How about being her knight?”
“You mean like rescuing her from something? She thinks she’s rescuing me.” He rubbe
d the back of his neck to ease the ache. “She is rescuing me. Well, not me. She’s rescuing Julia, but it’s my fault. She hasn’t complained once about the extra work and time the baby is taking, even though a child to care for is the last thing she needs right now. Me? She thinks I’m more trouble than I’m worth.”
“She told you that?”
“Yeah.”
Davy clapped him on the shoulder then squeezed it in wordless sympathy. He went back to sorting screws. After a while he said, “You don’t make her nervous, do you? They might enjoy looking at hunks, but some women are leery of big, muscular men up close and personal. And you don’t come across as the Jolly Green Giant, you know. They don’t call you Darth Vader for nothing.”
Garth knew what Doc was talking about. His effect on women—except for those who liked his “dark aura” (and they came on to him)—was the reason he had so little experience with actual courtship.
“She seems okay with it.” That was one of the best things. Even when he’d inadvertently startled her, her response had been, “I’ve had it with hulking figures!” He smiled into the distance at the memory.
When his eyes came back to Davy’s, he was startled at the equal parts sympathetic and surprised grin on his friend’s face. “What?”
Davy’s chest shook with silent laughter. “Nothing. Changing the subject, I’m glad you finally surfaced. There’s something else I want to talk to you about.”
“Shoot.”
“JJ wants us to have another wedding ceremony. This time with lots of lead time and everyone we know invited. She’s worked on it for months, and we’ve sent out the invitations. I wanted to ask you to be my best man again, but now I don’t know if I should—what with the virus that’s going around and all. Your resistance is way low.”
Garth distrusted the twinkle in Davy’s eyes. “What virus?”
“The guys say there’s a virus in the NC water that makes a man susceptible to marriage. It gets spread at SEAL weddings. Attend a SEAL wedding in NC, and you’re likely to find yourself married within a year.”
Garth’s belly laugh rang loudly in the sparsely furnished room. He surprised himself—but, damn, it felt good to find something laugh-out-loud funny. “You mean that—what would you call it?—that urban legend is really making the rounds? MacMurtry tried to give me some song and dance about it, but I didn’t believe him. I thought he was just trying to chap my ass.”
SEALed Forever Page 14