"Good," Joe said. "Because I'm going to bring this bird low, and Ronnie's gonna jump out into the water, you copy?"
"I'm not going anywhere without you," Veronica said, adding loudly, loud enough for Blue to hear, "Joe's been hit, and he's bleeding badly."
"I have a medic standing by," Blue said to Joe. "Is it bad, Cat?"
Joe ignored Blue's question. "I'm right behind you, Ronnie," he said to Veronica, knowing damn well that he was telling her a lie. "But I'm not going to ditch this bird until you're clear."
He could see her indecision in her eyes. She didn't want to leave him.
God, he was getting light-headed, and this chopper was getting harder and harder to handle as he hovered ten feet above the water's surface. The combination was not good.
"Go," he said.
"Joe—"
"Baby, please..." He couldn't hold on much longer.
"Promise you'll be right behind me?"
He nodded, praying to God for forgiveness for his lie. "I promise."
She slid open the door. "I want us to get married right away," she said, and then she was gone.
The water was cold as ice.
It surrounded Veronica, squeezing her chest as she surfaced and tried to take in a breath of air.
But then a boat was there, and hands reached for her, pulling her up.
Veronica ignored the cold as she turned to watch the chopper, hovering above the waves, its whirling blades turning the ocean into choppy whitecaps. Someone wrapped a blanket around her— Blue, it was Blue McCoy, Joe's executive officer.
The plume of smoke from the helicopter was darker, thicker. And the chopper seemed to lurch instead of holding still.
"Why won't he jump?" she wondered aloud.
Before she finished speaking, the helicopter jerked forward and down—into the water.
She could hear shouting—it was Blue's voice—and she couldn't believe that the noise—some noise, any noise, wasn't coming from her own throat.
The helicopter was sinking beneath the waves, taking Joe with it, taking all her hopes and dreams for the future away from her.
"No!" she cried, the word torn from her raggedly.
"I'm going in after him." It was Blue. "Pull this boat closer."
"Sir, I can't let you do that," said a young man in a naval uniform. His face was pale. "If the chopper doesn't pull you under, the water's so cold, it'll kill you. You won't last more than five minutes before hypothermia sets in."
"Pull the damned boat closer, Ensign," Blue said, his voice as cold as the Alaskan water. "I'm a SEAL, and that's my commander down there. I'm going after him."
The water was cold as ice.
It roused Joe from his fog as it splashed him in the face.
Damn, he'd gone down. He didn't remember going down. All he remembered was Ronnie-Ronnie telling him that she wanted to... marry him?
The last pocket of air bubbled out of the helicopter cockpit.
No way was he going to die. Ronnie wanted to marry him. No way was he going to drown. Or bleed to death, damn it.
The water was cold as hell, but it would slow his bleeding.
All he had to do was get his arms and legs to work.
But he hurt.
Every single cell in his body hurt, and it took so much god-dammed effort to lift even a finger.
This was worse than anything he'd ever experienced, worse even than Hell Week, that torturous final week of SEAL training that he'd lived through so many years ago.
He'd never wanted anything as badly as he'd wanted to be a SEAL. It had kept him going through the non-stop exertion, through the pain, through the torturous physical demands. ''You got to want it badly enough, " one of his instructors had shouted at them, day after day, hour after hour. And Joe had. He'd wanted to be a SEAL. He'd wanted it badly enough.
He'd wanted to be a SEAL almost as much as he wanted Veronica St. John.
And she was there, up there, above the surface of that freezing water, waiting for him. All he had to do was kick his legs, push himself free and he would have her. Forever. All he had to do was want it badly enough.
Veronica stared at the water, at the place where first the helicopter and then Blue had disappeared.
Please, God, if you give me this, I'll never ask for anything ever again
Seconds ticked into one minute. Two. Three...
Was it possible for a man to hold his breath for this long, let alone search for a wounded, drowning man...?
Please, God.
And then, all at once, a body erupted from beneath the surface of the water. Veronica peered into the area lit by the searchlights. Was that one head or...
Two! Two heads! Blue had found Joe!
A cheer went up from the sailors on board the boat, and they quickly manoeuvred closer to the two men, and pulled them out.
Dear God, it was Joe, and he was breathing. Veronica stood aside as the medics sliced his wet clothes from his body. Oh, Lord, he'd been shot in the abdomen, just above his hip. She watched, clutching her own blanket more tightly around her as he was wrapped in a blanket and an IV was attached to his arm.
"Cat was coming up as I was going down after him," Blue said, respect heavy in his voice. "I think he would have made it, even without me. He didn't want to die. Not today."
Joe was floating in and out of consciousness, yet he turned his head, searching for something, searching for...
"Ronnie." His voice was just a whisper, but he reached for her, and she took his hand.
"I'm here," she said, pressing his fingers to her lips.
"Did you mean it?" He was fighting hard to remain conscious. He was fighting, and winning. "When you said you'd marry me?"
"Yes," she said, fighting her own battle against the tears that threatened to escape.
Joe nodded. "You know, I'm not going to change," he said. "I can't pretend to be something I'm not. I'm not a prince or a duke or-—"
Veronica cut him off with a kiss. "You're my prince," she said.
"Your parents are going to hate me."
"My parents are going to love you," she countered. "Nearly as much as I do."
He smiled then, ignoring his pain, reaching up to touch the side of her face. "You really think this could work?"
"Do you love me?" Veronica asked.
"Absolutely."
"Then it will work." The boat was pulling up alongside of the USS Watkins, where a doctor was waiting. From what Veronica had gathered from the medics, they believed the bullet had passed through Joe's body, narrowly missing his vital organs. He'd lost a lot of blood, and had to be stitched up and treated for infection, but it could have been worse. It could have been far worse.
Joe felt himself placed onto a stretcher. He had to release Ronnie's hand as he was lifted up and onto the deck of the Watkins.
"I love you," she called.
He was smiling as the doctor approached him, smiling as the nurse added painkiller to his intravenous tube, smiling as he gave in to the drug and let the darkness finally close in around him.
Joe stared up at the white ceiling in sick bay for a good long time before he figured out where he was and why he couldn't move. He was still strapped down to a bed. He hurt like hell. He'd been shot. He'd been stitched up.
He'd been promised a lifetime filled with happiness and Veronica St. John's beautiful smile.
Veronica Catalanotto. He smiled at the idea of her taking his name.
And then Blue was leaning over him, releasing the restraints. "Damn, Cat," he said in his familiar drawl. "The doc said you were grinning like a fool when he brought you in here, and here you are again, smiling like a fox in a henhouse."
"Where's Ronnie?" Joe whispered. His throat was so dry, and his mouth felt gummy. He tried to moisten his dry lips with his tongue.
Blue turned away, murmuring something to the nurse before he turned back to Joe, lifting a cup of water to his friend's lips. "She's getting checked by the doctor," he told Joe.
Blue nodded. "She's just getting a blood test," he said. "Apparently she needs one."
"Why?"
"Because I'm hoping to get married," Ronnie said, leaning forward to kiss him gently on the mouth. "That is, if you still have that ring. If you still want me."
Joe gazed up at her. Her hair was down, loose and curling around her shoulders. She was wearing a sailor suit that was several sizes too large, white flared pants and a white shirt, sleeves rolled up several times. She was wearing no makeup, and her freshly scrubbed face looked impossibly young—and anxious—as she waited for his answer. "Hell, yes," he somehow managed to say.
She smiled, and Joe felt his mouth curve up into an answering smile as he lost himself in the ocean colour of her eyes. “Do you still want me?"
Blue moved quietly toward the door. "I guess I'll leave you two a—"
Ronnie turned then, looking up at Joe's XO and best friend. "Wait," she said. "Please?" She looked back at Joe. "I'll marry you, but there's one condition."
Blue shifted his weight uncomfortably.
"Anything," Joe said to Veronica. "I'd promise you anything. Just name it."
"It's not something you can promise me," she said. She looked up at Blue again, directly into his turquoise eyes. "I need Blue's promise—to keep Joe safe and alive."
Blue nodded slowly, taking her words seriously. "I'd die for him," he said, matter-of-factly.
Veronica had seen them in action. She'd seen Blue dive into the icy Alaskan waters after Joe, and she knew he spoke the truth. It wasn't going to make her fear for Joe's safety disappear, but it was going to make it easier.
"I didn't want to marry you because I was—I am—afraid that you're going to get yourself killed," she said, turning back to Joe. "I knew I couldn't ask you to leave the SEALs and..."
She saw his eyes narrow slightly as he understood her words. "Then..."
Veronica felt more than saw Blue slip from the room as she leaned forward to kiss Joe's lips. "I wasn't 'slumming.'" She mock shuddered. "Nasty expression, that."
He laced his fingers through her hair, wariness and concern in his eyes. "I can't leave the SEALs, baby—"
She silenced him with another kiss. "I know. I'm not asking you to. I'm not going to quit my job and become a career navy wife, either," Veronica told Joe. "I'll travel and work—the same as you. But whenever you can get leave time, I'll be there."
As she gazed into Joe's midnight-dark eyes, the last of his reservations drained away, leaving only love—pure and powerful. But then he frowned slightly. "Your ring's back in Little Creek, "he said.
"I don't need a ring to know how much you love me," Veronica whispered.
Joe touched his chest, realized he was wearing a hospital gown, then pressed the call button for the nurse.
A young man appeared almost instantly. "Problem, sir?"
"What happened to my uniform?" Joe demanded.
"There wasn't much left of it after the medics cut it off you, sir." The nurse gestured toward a small table just out of reach of the bed. "Your personal gear is in that drawer."
"Thanks, pal," Joe said.
"Can I get you anything, sir?"
"Just some privacy," Joe told him, and the nurse left as quickly as he had come.
Joe turned to Veronica. "Check in that drawer for me, will you, baby?"
Veronica stood up and crossed to the table. She pulled open the drawer. There were three guns inside, several rounds of ammunition, something that looked decidedly like a hand grenade, a deadly-looking knife, several bills of large denominations, a handful of change...
"There should be a gold pin," Joe said. "It's called a 'Budweiser.'"
A gold pin in the shape of an eagle with both an ocean trident and a gun, it was Joe's SEAL pin, one of his most precious possessions. He'd gotten it on the day he graduated, the day he became a Navy SEAL. Veronica took it from the drawer. It felt solid and heavy in her hand as she carried it to Joe.
But he didn't take it from her. He wrapped her fingers around it. "I want you to have it."
Veronica stared at him.
"There are two things I've never given anyone," he said quietly. "One is this pin. The other is my heart." He smiled at her. "Now you got 'em both. Forever."
He pulled her head down to him and kissed her so gently, so sweetly, so perfectly.
And Veronica realized again what she'd known for quite some time.
She had found her prince.
END
Prince Joe Page 25