Be My Valentine, Baby
Page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
SAINT PATRICK’S BABY Excerpt
SAINT PATRICK'S BABY Chapter One Excerpt
Dear Reader
About the Author
Copyright
BE MY VALENTINE, BABY
SEAL Team: Holiday Heroes
Book Three
Laura Marie Altom
Chapter One
“LET. ME. GO.” Retired Navy SEAL Tanner Muldoon shrugged free of his coat to escape his best friend Brody’s hold. Flames shot through his ranch-style home’s roof. Sprinting around the side yard, he dodged when a window exploded, ignoring the glass shard sticking out of his forearm.
Lungs burning from rolling clouds of smoke, he braced his hands atop the backyard’s chain link fence, vaulting himself over. The instant both feet hit the ground, he ran again, pumping his arms and legs faster and harder.
Through the smoke, he eyed the deck Jenny had sweet-talked him into building off their master bedroom. The French doors were closed. Thank God, he didn’t see fire beyond them. He tried the knobs, only to find the deadbolt locked. Shit.
Turning sideways, slightly ducking, again and again he slammed his right shoulder against the seam between the doors until they splintered.
With a roar, he backed up, giving himself enough space to kick his way through.
Smoke poured from the house in billowing waves.
“Jenny!” He snatched a T-shirt from the back of a chair to hold over his mouth and nose.
He eyed the bed where his pregnant ex-wife was supposed to have been napping, but she wasn’t there. He saw the rocker he’d bought for her to use while nursing their baby. It was empty, too. Heart pounding to a painful degree, coughing, eyes stinging, he darted his gaze around the room, but didn’t see her. “Jenny!”
For an instant, the smoke cleared enough to see the open bathroom door.
Charging that direction, he ignored the ever-rising heat, flinching from mini-explosions, knowing the next crashing support beam could mean certain death.
“Jenny! Ohmygod.” In the bathroom, he found her lying motionless on the floor. “No, no, no…” he said with a low, anguished groan. For the baby, they were working things out—or, at least trying. Kneeling, he placed his middle and index fingers to the side of her carotid, checking her pulse. It was weak, but steady.
Relief shimmered through him.
But then his gaze skipped to the side of her head. Blood. So much blood.
The smoke thickened. He was out of time.
He had to get her out of here, then assess her damage later.
After scooping Jenny’s lifeless form into his arms, he rose, only to wobble from lack of oxygen. Still, he forged ahead, only to get more bad news.
At the open bathroom door, where there should have been a straight shot out the same route through which he’d entered, there was now only smoke. Years of fighting fires taught him once he entered that black cloud, he’d instantly lose his bearings—assuming he didn’t pass out first.
Time for Plan B.
He kicked the bathroom door shut.
Gingerly, he set Jenny in the tub.
There was a smallish window over the john. He’d open it, feed Jenny through, then follow.
From beyond the bedroom, the fire had grown into a growling monster, chewing its way closer. In his capacity as fire chief, when encountering a fire this hot, with this fast of a flashover, he would advise his men to stand down, only attacking it from a safe distance, ensuring no nearby structures were impacted. But this wasn’t any structure, but his home.
The smoke was thick enough in the bathroom that it became a struggle to even find the window.
Allowing the diffused sunlight to guide him, he unlatched the window’s center lock, then tried pulling up the frame, but it was stuck. Seriously? After repeated tries and it still wouldn’t budge, he grabbed the wooden-handled plunger from behind the toilet, standing back while ramming the handle into the glass.
It thankfully shattered.
For an instant, Tanner dragged fresh air into his lungs. But then his training kicked in long enough for him to remember a cardinal rule of fire—it needed oxygen, and he’d just given it the human equivalent of an energy drink.
Flames licked the underside of the bathroom door. How long until the wood ignited?
Working at a frantic pace, he used the plunger handle to punch out the remaining bigger sheets of glass, then scrape the rest from the sides.
Back at the tub, he again hefted Jenny into his arms, gritting his teeth, working his screaming muscles harder than they’d ever been worked before to force her limp frame through the tight space. Moving her with a serious head injury was ill-advised, but the alternative? Leaving her here to burn alive—not happening on his watch.
“Tanner! Get out of there!” From outside, Brody shouted at him. He and Colby stood behind three guys on his crew.
One of them snatched up Jenny, carrying her to what Tanner hoped was a safe distance.
Approaching sirens signaled more help was on the way.
With Jenny presumably cared for, Tanner stood on the john’s closed lid, planning to dive through the open space, but then the unthinkable happened when the adjacent wall shuddered. Moments later, the falling ceiling rained fire on his back…
Chapter Two
JENNY? TANNER WOKE on his stomach to the sensation of floating behind the veil of a pain medication that didn’t come close to doing its job.
“Nurse!” a woman called. His mother? No, she and his father had long since died, which was why Jenny and the baby meant so much. They were his only remaining family.
“I’ll get her,” a man said. Brody?
Both voices were familiar, yet not.
His sole point of focus beyond fears for Jenny was pain.
Tanner ached from his muscles to his bones. But his back? That was a whole ’nother story. The fire returned in its full glory, dancing with the devil along his spine. He didn’t remember much—mainly flashes. Finding Jenny unconscious. Smashing out the bathroom window.
Then it all faded to an omnipresent black.
“Mr. Muldoon? Can you hear me?”
Yes and no. He heard a woman speaking, but her words warred with an all-consuming ringing in his ears—and the pain. Always the pain.
“I’m Stephie King, an RN at the Anchorage Burn Center.” She must’ve had to crouch to enter his line of sight. He flinched from the sudden intrusion upon his own private hell. “Don’t even think about cracking a Stephen King joke—I’ve heard ’em all.” She was up, adjusting knobs and tubes. “Mom and Dad are huge fans. Well—keeping it real, let’s call it what it is. An obsession. I mean how many other kids do you know who get treated to an annual Valentine’s Day showing of The Shining? They say it’s a great study in how not to manage your marriage.”
She appeared again, meeting him at eye level with fiery red hair framing what he guessed to be a burn scar on her left cheek. Another raised scar marred her forehead. “Look,” she said. “I’ve been in your bed—literally. I lived in this room for almost six months. You might not feel like it now, but you got lucky. You have burns over thirty percent of your body. The next couple months won’t be pleasant, but we’ll get
you through. On the other hand, you’ll resume your normal life, and—”
“J-Jenny?” He won a major battle just by saying her name. His mouth was dry, throat raw. Valentine’s Day marked their sixth wedding anniversary. Their shared special thing. Since it was coming up soon, and they’d both fought so hard to salvage their rocky marriage, he wanted to celebrate in a big way.
“Let me talk to him,” Brody said. Judging by lack of crispness to his tone, Tanner guessed his friend sat on the room’s opposite side.
“I-is Jenny dead?” Tanner was terrified to ask, but needed to know.
“What? No. No way. She’s good. You did real good. She’s sleeping on another floor. Can you believe not a millimeter of her gorgeous bod was damaged. She swallowed some smoke, but—”
“Our baby?” Tanner braced his hands on the mattress, intending to push himself up, but he only sunk deeper.
“Slow your roll, hon.” The nurse returned. “We can’t have you escaping or getting your heart rate any higher. You’re on an air chamber burn bed. It’s like an egg crate mattress, only way better. Relax. You’ll have your reunion with your girl just as soon as you start feeling better. In fact, since it’s past five p.m., how about I give you a little something to take the edge off…”
The baby? Wait! Why wouldn’t anyone tell him about their baby?
The black returned.
Tanner’s will was no match for its power…
“OH, HEY—YOU’RE up.” Rose—his good friend Colby’s wife—sat in a chair alongside Tanner’s bed.
Tanner blinked a few times from the too bright light spilling through the window running the length of his hospital room. His mouth felt dry, as if his tongue was stuck. His eyes felt coated with sand. Being on his stomach, his neck ached from the awkward angle. Then there was his back—a slab of burning, stinging, raw nerve endings screaming for relief.
“You just missed Jenny’s folks. Her mom didn’t want you alone on your anniversary, but since it’s Valentine’s Day, Lilianna and I wanted her and Ian to have a nice night out.”
Jenny? The baby? Tanner couldn’t be sure if he’d said the words or imagined them. Valentine’s Day? He’d been out for two weeks? On his anniversary, Tanner wanted to be with his wife.
“Colby’s taking me to Seven Glaciers for dinner. Ever since Rose came back from their honeymoon, she’s been bragging about their stay at The Hotel Alyeska. Since the restaurant is onsite, we booked a room. Colby’s mother is up for a visit, so she’s back in Kodiak Gorge with Nick.”
When chatty Rose paused for air, Tanner struggled to connect his thoughts to his mouth, but nothing happened aside from his heart pounding loud enough for the thump to hurt his ears. Why wouldn’t anyone tell him about Jenny?
The room’s automated door swished open. “I thought someone’s pulse looked a little high.” Stephie? That annoying nurse? “Time for more sleepy juice. In honor of Valentine’s Day, I’ll mix it with a side drip of chocolate and champagne.”
She and Rose shared a laugh.
Tanner tried curving his fingers into tight fists, demanding these two women tell him the only two things he wanted to know—how was Jenny and had she lost their baby? From the sheer frustration of not being able to fight through the drug-induced fog, Tanner’s eyes welled with tears. Was Jenny dead? Was that the reason for Rose’s chirpy report? A sick attempt to steer him from the only thing that mattered?
“Do you have a hot date tonight?” Rose asked the nurse.
“Maybe?” From behind him, Stephie laughed. “You would think with Alaska’s ratio of men to women I would never lack for a date, but my friends all say I’m too picky.”
“Nothing wrong with that. Wish you lived closer to Kodiak Gorge. My friend Lilianna just had the hottest new tenants move into her garage apartment.”
“Oh yeah? Tell me more.”
“Patrick would be the perfect guy for you. Sweet, considerate and funny. Then there’s Hawk. Since everyone calls him Hawk, I’m not sure of his real name.” Rose laughed. “He served in the Navy with my husband, our friend, Brody, and even this guy…”
Hawk was in town? Just when Tanner thought his day couldn’t get worse, it did.
And then he was once again tumbling into black.
His need to learn about Jenny and their baby’s well-being was urgent. He fought the drug’s strength, but it once again proved stronger than Tanner’s will…
WHEN TANNER NEXT woke after freeing himself from the medicine’s fog, he had a singular determination to get the answers he so desperately needed. The only problem was—aside from the constant, screaming pain—was the fact that he was alone.
The bench seat that ran beneath the window wall was empty. The view beyond was dark aside from swirling flakes of snow.
The only sounds were the faint hiss of air from his oxygen and the ebb and flow of a conversation being held somewhere outside of his room.
Jenny. Where was she?
I have to find her.
Before the fire, he’d have given their already precarious marriage a fifty-fifty shot at survival. But now, having almost lost her and their baby, Tanner was more determined than ever to have them both in his life. Did she not feel the same? Had he not been drugged out of consciousness, there’s nothing that could have kept him from her.
What was keeping her from him?
She wasn’t heartless. At the very least, if she was able, she would have popped in to say hello.
Which made one thing clear—someone was lying. Was she dead? Incapacitated?
There was only one way to know, and it wouldn’t happen from this bed.
Time for a field assessment. Pain had to be a non-issue. Since that was one of the few elements within his control, he compartmentalized it. What didn’t kill him made him stronger, and he had no plans for dying today.
Next problem? Miles of tubing. His right arm sported an IV and judging by the fact that there had been a steady stream of fluid going into his body, but he hadn’t taken trip to the john, meant he was also attached to a catheter. No sweat. He’d wheel the IV pole and carry the cath bag. Two more issues knocked down.
The last barrier might prove most tricky. Bed rails. Seemed trivial on the surface, but he was in no shape for vaulting and even if he’d felt up to trying, the mattress was too squishy for adequate purchase. Gravity would help him slide off the bed, but how did he lower the safety rail?
He tried reaching over from his current position, but there was no latch within reach. Which meant he needed to inch further down and over. No easy feat since the funky mattress gripped his body like a deep sponge.
After what felt like hours of effort, but in reality must have only been a minute, by using the rails to his advantage, he’d scooted a few inches closer to his goal. This time when he reached down and to his left, his fingers landed on the latch. It took an eternity of fumbling to disengage it, damn near pinching off his hand in the process when the rail dropped with a clang.
He froze. Would the noise draw company?
Thankfully, no.
Next mountain, getting off the bed and onto his feet. He had no idea how long he’d been here, meaning his legs probably weren’t up to full operating potential. All he could hope was that while he’d been sleeping, his chatty nurse and the rest of his medical team had done range-of-motion exercises to keep him if not strong, then at least mobile.
Holding on to the rail that was still up, he gritted his teeth while shifting his legs further and further out from under a thin blanket and sheet until they dangled in midair. By the time he’d slid as far as his waist, he got a surprise to find other bits dangling, too. He bent till the soles of his bare feet kissed the cool tile floor.
The floor might be cold, but sweat had popped out on his forehead.
Sonofabitch, this hurt. But that was okay. Physical pain he could handle. The emotional toll of not knowing about Jenny was more than he could bear.
Partially standing, naked since his open hospital
gown had fallen off, he tested his legs and found them wobbly, but otherwise sound—until he tried fully standing, at which point he lurched toward the bedside table. Since that was on wheels, it didn’t exactly provide stable support.
At first, Tanner teetered, believing sheer will would keep him upright. But he overcompensated on his forward lunge and ended up flying forward, crashing along with the table into the wall.
Chapter Three
THE AGONY RADIATING from Tanner’s back temporarily winded him.
Even worse, the force of the fall must have wrenched the tubing from his catheter, meaning he was covered in his own piss. On the bright side, he hadn’t pulled the cath out of his Johnson.
His IV was also a goner. Blood flowed from the top of his hand.
The door to his room slid open. “Mr. Muldoon?”
After a startled screech and cry for backup, the overhead lights went on and a nurse rushed in. He didn’t recognize her. Or maybe he was half-passing out from pain? “What’s wrong with you? Why would you even think about leaving your bed?”
“My w-wife. I need to see my wife.” Summoning every ounce of strength, he tried pushing himself upright, but ultimately failed. Not only was it humiliating, but a devastating dose of reality that even when he did find Jenny, there was a chance he might never again be the man she’d once loved enough to marry. The only thing keeping her from leaving him now was their future son or daughter.
She hated Alaska. Their slow way of life.
Adding insult to injury, he’d believed their divorce to be final, but misfiled paperwork had brought Jenny back. Surprise—they were still married after all. If it hadn’t been for them reminiscing one night over a bottle of merlot, she never would have gotten pregnant and would be back in California with her sister.
Could she be there now? Could she have popped in to tell Tanner goodbye while he’d been sleeping?
Honestly, he could take a lot, but having her reject him after all they’d been through…