“I’ll take it from here and get him undressed.”
She didn’t move. “He looks a lot like Luke in his sleep.” And again Lucky felt a surge of jealousy.
“Go home, Cait. Get some rest.”
She hesitated at the door. “You should take off his leg. I don’t imagine it’s too comfortable to sleep with. He’s an above-the-knee amputee, so it’s a harness,” she explained. “I did my pharmacy internship at a hospital.”
“I got it,” he said. “Good night, Cait.”
Chapter Ten
CAIT WAS SURPRISED TO FIND both brothers on her doorstep early the following morning. Well, before noon, anyway.
She hadn’t been up long herself and was only wearing an untied Oriental silk robe over her pajama pants and Luke’s T-shirt.
They were in workout clothes. T-shirts and basketball shorts. The sleeves and collar of Calhoun’s T-shirt were missing. She got her first real look at that tattoo, an intricate Celtic design that appeared to cover his shoulder and then some.
“Did you two run all the way here?” Their dripping sweat being her first clue.
“More like hobbled,” Bruce said, bent over at the waist. He looked a little green around the gills. Lucky elbowed him in the ribs. “I wanted to apologize for my behavior last night. We brought you bagels.” He held up the bag.
She opened the door wide and let them inside. “Bruce, if you need help—”
“I just got carried away last night, that’s all.”
She hoped that was true. She exchanged glances with Calhoun. “I know your physical pain is real. Emotional pain is, too,” she said, thinking of the fiancé who’d deserted him. “A doctor can prescribe something for that.”
If a doctor could prescribe something for a broken heart, Cait would have taken that drug herself a long time ago. She’d really like to know who this high school sweetheart was who’d broken Bruce’s heart. Did she live in Colorado or California? Because if Cait ever ran into her…
“No drugs,” he said, shaking his head. “No booze, either. And especially no doctors. Cait, I got all the lecture I needed from the big guy here.” He tilted his head in Calhoun’s direction. “And a workout to boot. Mind if I use your bathroom to puke?”
Bruce disappeared down the hall, and Calhoun followed Cait into the kitchen. She poured a round of orange juice while Calhoun got out plates and knives.
“He’ll be okay,” he said, joining her at the breakfast bar. “We had a talk. Actually, we’re here to talk you out of moving to Colorado.”
“You’re here to talk her out of it,” Bruce said, coming into the kitchen. “I think it’s a great idea.” Bruce grabbed a bagel, and Calhoun gave up his seat to lean against the counter.
“Okay, I’m here to talk you out of it. Do you think it’s wise to make a cross-country move in your condition?”
“Colorado is not across the country,” she argued. “It’s only halfway across the country from California.”
“She’s right,” Bruce agreed between bites. He was too macho to take the unoccupied stool right away, but he worked his way over to it now and sat down. Maybe there was something to be said about the way guys—brothers—communicated.
“But this week? What about your stuff?”
“I’ll put everything in storage. I know how to travel light. I was a Navy wife, remember?” Well, it sounded good, anyway.
“What about your job?”
“I’m temping.”
“What are you going to do when you get there? And how are you going to get there?” Calhoun persisted.
“Fly. And find a job. In that order,” she snapped.
“Is that safe?” He looked at Bruce. His brother shrugged.
“I haven’t reached my seventh month yet. I can still fly, and I can still find a job. I’ve had three days to think about this—” four now “—and you’re not going to change my mind. What do you care? You’re leaving.”
“And if I stayed, would you stay?” he demanded.
“How long?”
“Until…the baby’s born,” he offered grudgingly.
“No.” His attitude only reinforced her decision. She needed family. A support system for Peanut. Not some guy who argued for her to stay while he couldn’t wait to leave. And Bruce had his own issues to deal with. He shouldn’t have to put up with hers.
“What are you going to do about your car? Store it, too? And what happens when you get there and you need your car and your things?”
“Argh!” She was ready to pull her hair out. “You’re relentless!”
She stood there with one hand on her hip and the other raking her sleep-tousled hair. “I’ll call a moving company. I want to be happy and healthy and whole again. I don’t want to look around every corner for Luke because it’s someplace we’ve been.
“But I don’t want to forget him, either. I want to be with people who loved him and still love him. I want to know what he was like as a boy so I have something to share with my son. I want to know all those things about him that I never got the chance to learn.
“I’m moving to Colorado whether you like it or not!”
“Okay, then,” he said, raising his voice above hers. “I’ll drive you there. And then I’m gone.”
“I don’t want you to drive me. And quit looking at my boobs and my belly when you’re talking to me.” She stormed off to change.
“You are so busted.” Cait heard Bruce chuckle as she slammed her bedroom door.
She jerked open her underwear drawer, grabbed a bra and panties. Then she opened and closed several more drawers looking for something to wear. She settled on a white tank top from the bottom drawer and black jumper from her closet.
Why was everything she owned black?
She was pregnant. She was just as happy about that as Marilyn was about her pregnancy.
She should be wearing bright colors. And pastels!
Catching a glimpse of the lighthouse in the distance, Caitlin laid everything out on the bed and moved to the French doors. Opening them, she leaned against the frame with her arms folded under her bust.
She’d miss that view. But that was the only thing she’d miss about this place. She closed her hand over the chain around her neck and stared out at the ocean.
A few minutes later, in her bathroom, she stripped down to those dog tags between her breasts. In her bathroom mirror, she regarded her naked form from all angles. “I do have great boobs,” she said appreciatively.
Knowing him, he had probably been looking at his dog tags and wondering how he was ever going to get them back.
After a shower, she rejoined the Calhoun brothers in her kitchen. If it was a tight fit for one, it was an impossible fit for three, plus her big stomach.
“Okay,” she said as she passed Calhoun.
“Okay, what?”
“You can drive me to Colorado.”
CAIT DROPPED THE BROTHERS OFF at Camp Pendleton with the promise to pick Calhoun up in an hour outside his company headquarters. In the meantime, fueled by her earlier wardrobe disaster, she went shopping at the base exchange.
She found so many cute maternity clothes she bought one of everything that fit. The sticker shock didn’t hit her until the grand total at the register.
Even at Navy Exchange prices, the spree cost a small fortune.
She’d earned it. And she deserved it. After months of sacrifice, that was her new motto. She handed over her debit card with a flourish. Gathering her overstuffed bags, she hurried out the door and toward her car.
She made it back to Calhoun ten minutes after the hour. Then waited another five before she got out of the car and entered the building to look for him.
There was a quartermaster on deck. Or whatever they called them in the Marine Corps.
“I’m looking for Master Sergeant Luke Calhoun Jr.” Her voice echoed through the halls. The young private pointed her in the right direction, and Cait followed the polished tile to his polished nameplate besi
de a door that was ajar.
Somewhat surprised he even had an office, she knocked.
“Enter,” he answered in an official-sounding voice. He was wearing his uniform again. Probably for the last time.
“It’s me.”
“I’ve just about finished packing,” he said. He put a plaque in the box he had nearly filled, then looked around at the empty walls and desk. “Can’t forget this.” He shifted his box of files to one arm and reached for a long, rectangular case.
She couldn’t imagine what it held.
“That’s it,” he said, ushering her out with one last look behind him. He shut off the lights and closed the door, then removed his nameplate and added it to the box.
“That was a desk,” she said, still amazed.
“Didn’t use it much.”
She stopped to read the wall opposite the door on their way out. “You’re, like, the senior noncommissioned officer for the whole company.”
She was as surprised as he had been when he’d discovered she was a licensed pharmacist with the letters RPh after her name. Well, the letters MSGT in front of his must have meant something, too.
“Was,” he conceded.
The private stepped forward to hold open the door, and Calhoun followed her outside.
“Can I get your keys?” he asked and she handed them over. “I just want to lock this in the trunk.”
“The back seat is empty,” she volunteered.
“I can’t leave a rifle in the back seat.”
“Rifle?”
He opened the trunk. “Clothes?” he asked, amused by the overflowing shopping bags.
“I didn’t have anything to wear that wasn’t black.”
“WHERE’S CAIT?” BRUCE ASKED on Sunday when Lucky picked him up in the U-Haul.
“She’s been shopping and packing since yesterday.”
“When were you two going to tell me about the baby?”
Lucky glanced at Bruce, then back at the road. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “What is it you think you know?” he asked evasively.
“It’s not what I think I know. It’s what I know. It’s the way you look at her. And the way she touches her belly whenever she looks at you.”
It was seventy-five degrees outside, but he felt a chill.
“And,” Bruce continued, “it was that really lousy excuse you gave me to go meet her at CryoBank. So are you the donor?”
“You can’t say anything to anyone.”
“Why you?” Bruce asked.
“Why not me?”
“I’m better-looking.” Bruce shrugged at the obvious. “Luke and I could’ve passed for twins as kids.”
“That’s because you’re Irish twins. Same father, different mothers. Born weeks apart.” That had never seemed to bother Bruce as much as it did Lucky.
“Which is why it would make more sense for her to ask me.”
“Be glad she didn’t,” Lucky said, turning right into the storage facility.
“You two haven’t…” Bruce ventured into personal territory as only a brother could.
“No, we haven’t.” Now, wouldn’t that complicate things? He changed the subject. “I’m looking for number 168.” He read the number Cait had written down. Lucky switched his attention to Bruce. “You and Luke may look alike, but you’ve never had to share the same name. You don’t know what it’s like to get an immunization twice because someone switched your medical records.”
“Okay, okay. I’ve heard that story before. Don’t you get tired of blaming him?”
“I’m not blaming him,” Lucky said in a more subdued tone. He had, in fact, blamed Luke many times over. “This is more serious than my getting a booster shot. Cait got pregnant with my sperm. And Luke’s got destroyed.”
“Wow!”
“Yeah, wow.”
“So you’re going to be a father.”
“No,” he said. “I’m going to be an uncle. Same as you.”
“I don’t think it works that way.”
“It works however Cait says it works. And that’s why you can’t say anything to anyone. Not even Cait.”
The long silence in the truck cab was broken by Bruce pointing out her storage unit. “There it is….”
Lucky pulled up in front of Cait’s unit. He got out of the truck and walked around back. He raised the door and his brother helped lower the ramp.
The only thing in back was his rifle case, a rented dolly, furniture pads, boxes and other moving supplies.
“Wouldn’t it be smarter to pack up her apartment first?”
“Cait said she had more furniture in storage than in her apartment.” He figured he may as well start with the unknown. He didn’t figure Bruce would be much help with the heavy lifting, so he’d included him, but he’d enlisted the help of Estes and Randall and expected them along any minute.
Lucky dug the key out of his pocket, then freed the padlock to raise the garage door.
“Man, you’re gonna need a bigger truck.”
Exactly what Lucky was thinking.
CAIT HAD NO IDEA HOW THEY’D managed to fit everything into one truck. Luke’s motorcycle was secured across the back. And there was a trailer hitch for towing her car.
“Ready?” he asked.
She stood on the balcony of her empty bedroom, in her empty apartment, and looked out at the Old Point Loma Lighthouse one last time.
Calhoun had suggested a visit to the cemetery, but this was where she wanted to say her goodbyes.
She found no comfort in a graveyard.
“Ready,” she said, putting on a brave front. “Just a quick trip to the bathroom.” Who moved across the country pregnant?
And so began their road trip. She was becoming very familiar with the potty stops along the way. Her father had always said if you wanted to get to know someone, take a road trip with them. If that was the case, then she had to give Calhoun credit for his patience and thoughtfulness.
She called her father from the road.
“Hey, Daddy.”
“Well, hey there, yourself.”
“Sorry to bother you at work. I just wanted to let you know we’re on the road.”
“Now, who’s we?” he asked. “The brother-in-law with the missing leg?”
“No, the other one,” she said, leaning against the hood while Calhoun filled the gas tank.
“The one just back from Iraq? How do you know he’s not some serial rapist?”
“Daddy!”
“Well, how do you?”
“Because he’s not.”
“Did you ever find out why he and Luke were on the outs?”
“It’s complicated. He doesn’t talk about it.”
“When it’s family, Caitie, it’s always complicated.”
“This move to Colorado is a good thing. I’ll be near Luke’s family. And I’ll have my own house. Remember? I told you about it—the wedding present from Luke’s father.”
“The father he never mentioned. And you’re on your way there with one of two brothers he never mentioned. Maybe you’d better let me talk to him,” her father said.
“Don’t you dare say anything accusatory,” she said, hesitating to give Calhoun the phone. She’d been a late-in-life baby, and her father was getting on in years. From his button-down shirts to his bow ties, sometimes it seemed as if he was from another era. “He’d like to speak to you,” she said as Calhoun finished pumping and hung up the nozzle.
“Sure.” He wiped his hands on his jeans before taking her cell phone. “Yes, sir,” he said. “I do have a valid driver’s license.”
Caitlin sighed heavily. She could almost hear her father’s questions as he grilled Calhoun. I’m sorry, she mouthed.
He shook his head. It didn’t seem to bother him at all. “About 1100 miles. I’ve done it in fourteen. On a bike…. No, a motorcycle. This trip, twenty, twenty-four. Straight through….Yes, sir,” he repeated, grinning at something her father said. “She’s a beauty.”
Caitlin caught her breath as Calhoun held her gaze. Then he took a few steps back toward her Mustang up on the tow bar. He looked her car up and down.
“Restored her yourself?” He listened for a long time. “I will do that,” he said, ending the call and handing back her phone. “Mrs. Mickleson needed her thyroid prescription filled.”
“Thank goodness for Mrs. Mickleson’s thyroid.”
“So your dad’s a pharmacist, too.”
“Yeah, he owns his own drugstore. It’s the only drugstore in Annapolis with its original soda fountain. I grew up wanting to be a soda jerk.”
“Sounds like a nice place.”
She shrugged. “Home was someplace I grew up wanting to leave. My dad worked long hours. I hardly ever saw him outside the store. When I wasn’t at the store I was with my grandma. She was old and didn’t get out much.”
“But you didn’t leave. Even after college.”
“No, not until I met Luke. He was all those things I wasn’t—adventurous…” She stopped there, not wanting to be reminded of all the things she missed about him.
“Why didn’t you just go back?” he asked, meaning after Luke died even if he didn’t say it.
She looked at the cell phone in her hands, then into his eyes. “But there’s no going back, is there?” That applied to their situation as well as any. Caitlin excused herself to find a bathroom. When she came back out Calhoun was leaning against the hood of the truck. Caitlin held up the hubcap with the bathroom key attached and shrugged.
He laughed, which made her laugh.
Considering the gas station kept the bathroom under lock and key, and as picky as they were about that key, it wasn’t all that clean. She’d learned to carry along her own toilet paper and sanitizing gel.
Calhoun had a bottle of cranberry juice waiting for her when she came out. “We’re halfway home,” he said, handing it to her. And he didn’t once comment on how much faster that trip would be without her needing to stop every hour.
THE BLAST OF AN AIR HORN startled Cait out of a sound sleep. “What was that?” she asked as the headlights passed in the opposite direction. Lucky kept his focus on the road and the flashing red-and-blue behind him.
The Marine's Baby, Maybe Page 11
