The SEAL's Valentine (Operation: Family) (7 page)

To Tristan, she tried lightening her mood by quipping, “Think I liked baseball a lot better back in the days when the team paid Mack to play, rather than the other way around.”

“Yeah, it’s crazy how much all of this costs, but the kids sure do enjoy it.”

Brynn winced, clutching her lower back.

“You okay?” His tender look of concern was too much. Made it damn near impossible to stick to her rule of being a self-sufficient island—not that she’d done such a great job at it lately. “You’re due pretty soon, aren’t you?”

She nodded, forcing a smile through more pain. “In a couple weeks.”

“Think you might be going into back labor? My ex went through it with my son. We kept watching for all the usual signs—water breaking and stuff, only none of it ever came. Finally, her pain was too much and we ran her to the E.R. Good thing—” his sharp exhale was followed by a smile “—she ended up having Jack two hours later.”

“Yikes.” Gathering her lightweight jacket from the back of her chair, Brynn said, “You got lucky. Otherwise, you might’ve been one of those couples you hear about being forced to deliver their babies on the side of the road.”

Hand on the small of her back, he ushered her into the warm night. The fresh air did wonders for clearing Brynn’s head. It made it possible to ignore the pleasant tingle still humming from Tristan’s briefest touch. He was her friend. And Cayden’s. Nothing more. They were lucky to have had him enter their lives.

As for the surprise she felt over him opening up to her about his past? She chose to ignore that, too. Far from him keeping illegal activity from her the way Mack had done, Tristan was only keeping a tight rein on his own pain.

He said, “I helped deliver a baby in Botswana.”

“Really?” Her eyebrows raised.

“There were midwives and stuff,” he said, turning red, “but they sent me on lots of missions—fetching fresh water and clean cloth. For lying on a mat in a dirt-floored hut, the mother brought whole new meaning to the expression ‘grace under fire.’”

Brynn shuddered to think of having her baby girl anywhere other than the specialty birthing wing of the small regional hospital where she’d already made arrangements. It bothered her that she’d be alone, but it wasn’t as if her aunt and uncle would be able to make the trip all the way from Maine. Even if they would, Brynn had this handled.

“Hey, Mom!” Cayden rounded the building’s corner, ambushing her in a hug. “While you guys were meeting, we’ve been doing catching drills. I caught three balls!”

“That’s awesome, baby!” She kissed the top of his head.

“I’m not a baby!” His pout returned. “That’s the baby.” Pointing at her stomach, he added, “And she’s gonna ruin everything.”

Thankfully, Cayden ran off to be with his friends, which gave Brynn a chance to regroup.

“Not to get in your business,” Tristan said alongside her, “but seems like I felt the same about my sister. Once I saw how cute she was—all those tiny fingers and toes—I figured the whole baby sister thing might not be so bad. Want me to talk with him?”

“Thanks,” she said with an exhausted sigh, “but somehow I have to believe everything’s going to work out.”

* * *

“Y
OO
-
HOO
!”

Brynn’s stomach tightened. After receiving the morning freeze from her son, who’d climbed on his school bus without even a verbal goodbye, let alone a kiss or hug, the last thing she needed was a visit from her neighbor. All Brynn wanted was to be left alone with her thoughts and plants—which thankfully, never talked back!

“Hi, Mrs. Booth.” Out of common courtesy, Brynn waved.

Charging across the street, Georgia was all smiles. “Great news!”

“Oh?” Brynn kept weeding her impatiens bed.

“Usually the garden club only accepts potential new members once a year, but considering your skill—and of course, a glowing recommendation from me—I’ve managed to get you a provisional membership. All you have to do is come with me to the next meeting and you’re in.”

“Wow.” Rocking back on her heels, Brynn wasn’t sure how to respond. “Thank you. But with the baby due in a couple weeks and after that, I’m going to start looking for a job, I’m not sure I’ll have time.”

Georgia waved off her concerns. “None of us have enough time, dear. All you can do is make time for the things you love. And it’s plain from the sight of this impeccable yard that you truly do love gardening.”

“That I do...” A wistful smile tugged Brynn’s lips. There had once been a period in her life when she’d spent whole days prettying her yard. Now, between washing and hanging clothes, cleaning and cooking, she was lucky for the two hours she stole each morning to pursue her passion. “But what does the garden club do?”

“Well, of course, we officially lunch once a month. But beyond that, we share plant clippings and extras—everyone’s always dividing bulbs and such.”

“So there’s an opportunity to get free plants?”

“Every meeting. Want to tag along with me this afternoon?”

* * *

S
TILL
RIDING
THE
HIGH
from receiving not just a few plant cuttings, but literally dozens of exotic bulbs and whole flats of annuals, rather than dreading her and Cayden’s outing with Tristan, Brynn looked forward to it, taking extra time with her hair and makeup.

Though Cayden sat downstairs scowling that she wasn’t hurrying, she refused to let his impatience bring her down.

Once again, she felt grateful to Georgia. The garden club women couldn’t have been more welcoming. Brynn had worried she wouldn’t fit in, or considering her rocky past they’d have treated her poorly, but the day was perfect, right down to the key lime pie served for dessert. Another plus: Tristan’s mom, Donna, was a member. In talking with her, Brynn had even learned of a few possible job leads.

In deference to the day’s muggy heat, Brynn piled her red curls high, fastening them with rhinestone pins. Though they were only going to a batting cage, her limited maternity wardrobe didn’t allow for a whole lot of options. Either she wore stretch-waisted shorts, jeans or a sundress. Opting for a pale blue floral dress, she added pearl earrings and more lip gloss than usual.

From downstairs came the muted ring of the house line phone.

A few minutes later, Cayden charged up the stairs. “Mom! Some guy’s on the phone!”

“Hello?” Brynn answered. “Yes... But how? I don’t understand...” After ten more minutes of the man’s droning voice, Brynn’s knees buckled and she dropped to the floor.

Chapter Seven

Tristan parked his truck on Brynn’s gravel drive, then whistled his way to the front porch. When he heard Cayden inside, crying for help, begging for his mom not to die, Tristan yanked open the screen door hard enough to pop the simple latch-hook closure, then charged up the stairs two at a time.

“Cayden? What’s wrong?”

“Mom’s dead!” The boy’s face was streaked with tears. “I know she’s dead! Just like my dad! I—I’m gonna be left all alone and all I know how t-to eat is cereal!”

Kneeling alongside Brynn, Tristan checked her vitals and found her pulse slightly elevated, but breathing normal. “Brynn?” he urgently coaxed. “Brynn, if you can hear me, I need you to let me know.”

She groaned before delivering a drowsy nod. “I’m okay. Just give me a minute.”

“Cayden,” Tristan said, “you know how to dial 9-1-1?”

The still crying boy nodded.

“No, no.” Brynn pressed her hands to Tristan’s capable chest. “I’m fine. I just...” She shook her head. “I must’ve fainted—which is kind of bizarre, but considering the circumstances...”

Tristan asked, “What happened?”

Cayden had the phone. “You still want me to call?”

“Hold off for a minute, bud.”

Cradling the phone, Cayden sat next to his mom, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I was so scared.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie. But really, I’m fine. Just had a pretty surprising call.” She managed to sit up, resting against the footboard of her brass bed.

“Who was it?” Tristan asked.

“Baseball commissioner, Ted Stevens. First, he apologized for not being able to contact me sooner, then he said they’ve officially closed Mack’s case, all of their intended targets have been apprehended, charged and await trial, so they’ve not only worked with government authorities to release Mack’s frozen assets, but are now prepared to make a public statement clearing him of all wrongdoing. The whole time, he was actually working
with
them. His death was a horrible accident.” Covering her face with her hands, she said, “I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry. Maybe both?”

“Whoa...” That news left Tristan a little wobbly himself. “This changes everything. You could return to St. Louis and step back into your former life.”

“I could. The commissioner is working with the Cardinals to host a special game in Mack’s honor.”

“Can we go?” Cayden asked.

“Of course.” She hugged him extra close.

Tristan asked, “When do you think it’ll be?”

“Later this summer.” Exhaling, she curved her hands to her belly, for the first time in months, feeling as though her lungs were receiving an adequate amount of air.

“We should celebrate,” Tristan said. “Hell, the whole town should throw a party. I knew from the start there was no way Mack could’ve been wrapped up in all that. He truly loved the game. And sounds like he loved and was wholly committed to you, too.”

“Yeah...” In a heartbeat, just as abruptly as her life had changed the day of Mack’s death, her whole life had once again been turned upside down, only this time for the better. “Cayden, hon? Would you please get me a cup of juice?”

Hopping to his feet, he asked, “Apple or orange?”

“Apple, please. Thanks, sweetie.”

In a flash, he was off, giving Brynn the privacy she needed. “Is it wrong for a part of me to be angry all over again?” she asked Tristan. “Why did Mack lie about being part of something that tore our lives apart? And all of the sudden, I’m supposed to celebrate his glory. But how can I do that? If he walked through the front door, after everything he’s put Cayden and me through, my first inclination would be to tell him to walk right back out.”

Tristan sat on the floor in front of her. He inched his hands toward her—as if he might ease his fingers between hers. But he didn’t. And that raised a knot in Brynn’s throat that had her all the more confused.

“Look,” he said with a sigh, “I can’t begin to relate with what you must be going through. But for the record, I’m sorry.”

“Here, Mom.” Cayden thrust her juice in her face, in the process, spilling a little on the dress she’d not so long ago been excited to wear.

“Thank you, baby.”

He nodded. “I’m real glad you’re alive, Mom.”

“Me, too.” She finished her juice, then pulled him against her.

“So does your call mean Dad’s alive, too? Since he’s gonna be in a game?”

“Oh, baby...” His hopeful question made her especially teary on what was supposed to be a fun night for all of them. With Cayden on her lap, she stroked his hair from his forehead. “More than anything, I wish Dad was playing that game for you, but remember what we talked about? How Dad’s gone forever?”

He nodded. “But I want him.”

“I know, baby. I know.”

* * *

W
ITH
C
AYDEN
’
S
BATTING
PRACTICE
over, Tristan sat with Brynn, watching her son ride bumper cars. The miniarcade/sports complex featured enough quarter-fed activities to keep Cayden smiling for as long as it took to get the smile back on his mom’s pretty face.

“Sorry about the pizza.” He took her long-abandoned plate, setting it on top of his to toss in the trash. “What this place lacks in cuisine, it makes up for in fun. Wanna play minigolf?”

Her faint grin came nowhere near meeting her eyes. “You’re a dear to try cheering me, but I’m afraid between my surprise call and aching back I’m not the best company.”

“You’re fine.” He finished off his cola. “I am worried about that backache, though. Wasn’t it nagging you last night, too?”

“Think it pretty much comes with the territory.”

“Just to be on the safe side, how about checking it out with your doctor?”

“Sure,
Dad,
” she teased, in what he assumed was her way of trying to lighten the mood. He appreciated her effort, but didn’t want her thinking she had to perform for him like a trick pony. They weren’t on a date and neither was trying to impress the other. Along with being friends came a certain freedom he found comforting.

“Ha-ha.” He made a funny face. “But, really, you hardly ate a thing. Want me to stop off on the way home and pick up anything else? Burger? Chicken sandwich—”

“Uh-oh...” In under thirty seconds, her expression morphed from wide-eyed surprise to wrinkled-nose displeasure to thin-lipped fear.

“What’s wrong?” He looked to Cayden, but the boy was still going full force on his bumper car.

“Look.” Her gaze dropped. Not only was she suddenly sitting in a puddle, but liquid had spilled off the edges of the bench seat to pool onto the red vinyl floor.

“Is that what I think it is?”

She nodded. “Pretty sure my water just broke.”

“But we’ve got plenty of time, right?” How many combat situations had he been in? Yet during none of them had his pulse surged quite so fast.

“This is mortifying. With Cayden, I was at home when this happened. Mack was on the road, but at least I had our housekeeper to help. I’m soaked. And I can’t leave this mess for—”

“Woman,” he said with a growl, “you worry about the damnedest things. Right now, let’s get you to a hospital.”

“But I’m wet.”

Think, Tristan
.
Think.

At the sports shop main entrance was a souvenir store featuring everything from T-shirts to purple faux Mohawk hats. Surely, they’d have something in there that was dry enough and large enough for Brynn to wear?

“Sit tight,” he said to her. “I’ll be right back.”

He purchased oversize sweatpants and a Batting World T-shirt, then handed the manager a few twenties to not only keep an eye on Cayden, but have Brynn’s water mopped up before she left the restroom.

Back with the mom-to-be, he took gentle hold of her elbow, helping her from the bench. “Stick with SEALs and your every problem will vanish.”

“Oh, yeah?” Her watery-eyed smile tugged his heartstrings. He never wanted to see any woman cry, but something about Brynn’s tears in particular threatened to crumple his usual steely calm.

“Come on.” He steered her toward the nearest restroom. “Let’s get you cleaned up and dry. Then we’ll worry about what comes next.”

“But Cayden...” She looked over her shoulder. “And the mess?”

“Handled and handled. For at least the next few minutes, all you need to worry about is you.” He held open the women’s room door, offering the bag with her fresh clothes. “The store had everything but...unmentionables, so you’ll have to go commando.”

She winced. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“Need help?”

“I think I’m good.” Apprehension showed in her quickened breaths and occasional winces from pain. “But if you wouldn’t mind, please hang out by the door—just in case.”

“You got it.” Though Brynn could’ve only been in the restroom for a minute, time had a funny way of stretching when you didn’t have a clue what the next seconds might bring. Odds were, they had plenty of time to get her to the regional hospital where she’d planned for her delivery. But what if she couldn’t hold out? Was the ultimate safety call getting her to a Shreveport E.R.? Lord knew, he’d been trained for every contingency from fending off nuclear armageddon to hostage rescue against impossible odds, but the one thing he had no practical knowledge of was delivering babies. That time in Botswana he’d only been an errand boy.

He knocked on the door. “Everything all right?”

“I—I think so.”

“What’s that mean?” His pulse surged anew. Was she having her daughter right there in the ladies’ room at Batting World?

“I-if you don’t mind, could you p-please come in?”

Unsure what he would see, he held his hand over his eyes. “You decent?”

“Think so...” He found her with her legs tangled in the sweatpants. She’d gotten them twisted and clung to the counter for balance. Already wearing her new T-shirt, he was glad he’d selected extra-large as it not only covered her bulging belly, but hung nearly to her knees.

“All right.” Kneeling alongside her, he gently lifted one foot, then her other, straightening the soft fabric, tugging it up her even softer legs. He pulled the pants thigh high, then eased back. “Think you can take it from there?”

She nodded. “But would it be all right if I held on to you for support?”

“Of course.” He laughed. “Use me any way you need.”

Left hand clamped to the top of his head, she wobbled and shimmied until tugging the pants into place. Helping her in the most basic of ways did a strange thing to him—it made him want to help even more. Silly, considering he hardly knew her, but he supposed he’d feel honor-bound to help any woman in Brynn’s vulnerable position.

Brynn clutched her belly. “Th-the pain, i-it’s worse. Not just in my back anymore.”

“Just throwing this out there—you know, in case you’re open for suggestions, but maybe we should quit talking and either call you an ambulance or hightail it back to Ruin Bayou. What do you think?”

Lips clamped tight, complexion sweat-sheened, she ground out, “You’re probably right. B-but I lost my purse. And my son. Do you know where Cayden is?”

“Having a great time. Oblivious to what’s going down in here.”

She doubled over. Her whimper ripped at his soul.

Arm around her waist, her denim floral purse slung over his left shoulder, he guided her to the dining room.

Cayden sat at a nearby table, feasting on ice cream and more pizza. “This is like the best, most funnest place
ever.
”

“Glad you liked it,” Tristan said, “but we’ve gotta go.”

“Why?” The kid’s tone featured an extra serving of whine. “I’ve still got tokens.”

“S-sweetie...” Brynn had turned deathly pale. “I—I think your sister’s on the way.”

“I hate her! She’s not even here yet and is already ruining everything!”

As seemed usual for the boy whenever things didn’t go his way, Cayden took off running.

“I—I have to go after him,” Brynn said between frighteningly thin breaths.

“Correction—you
have
to either get in my truck or let me call an ambulance. Your choice.”

“Truck.” Clutching her lower back, she was already waddling that way. “Oh—but the mess I made in the dining room. Shouldn’t we—”

“Already handled,” he assured. “Just keep walking.”

After settling her in the front seat of his king cab truck, Tristan tracked down Cayden to where he’d helped himself to another bumper car ride. “Get off that thing.”

“You’re not the boss of me!” Cayden rode farther away from Tristan.

“You’re right.” Tristan cut him off. “But I do care a lot about you and your mom and she’s having your baby sister, so let’s go.”

“You’re just making that up!”

Beyond frustrated, Tristan handled the situation the way he would’ve had Cayden been his son. He hefted the kid from the car, carrying him like a kicking and screaming sack of potatoes all the way to the truck.

“I hate you!” Cayden wailed. “Stranger danger!”

“All right,” Tristan said from between clenched teeth, setting the squirmy kid to his feet, but keeping a firm hold on his forearms. “Now you’ve gone too far. As long as we’ve known each other, have I ever once hurt you?”

Cayden’s chin touched his yellow T-shirt. “No. But I wanna play. And I hate that baby.”

“Yeah, well, like it or not—no matter what crazy stunt you try pulling next—your sister will be here soon. And the longer you dork around, the more danger your mom is going to be in. She needs to be at a hospital. Now.”

“I never thought of it like that.” Cayden’s voice had lost his earlier bravado. “So having my sister is bad for her?”

“If your mom doesn’t have a doctor or nurse with her, it could be. I know I don’t know anything about having babies, do you?”

Expression grim, Cayden shook his head.

“All right then...” Tristan released his hold on the boy, only to offer Cayden his hand. “How about we work together to keep your mom and baby sister safe?”

With Cayden’s small hand clasped in his, a dozen thoughts raced through Tristan’s head. Not the least of which was how good it felt once again being a father—even if the child wasn’t his own.