The SEAL's Baby

by Laura Marie Altom

  Not only did he need Libby, but hopefully, she and her baby still needed him.

  *

  OVER THANKSGIVING WEEKEND, Heath started what he considered to be the toughest mission of his life when he flew to Portland for a brief bit of dicey—and expensive—business. He’d gotten Libby’s snail mail address from Hattie, then programmed Libby’s Seattle location into the map application on his phone.

  After an excruciating five-hour trek in what felt like a tuna can of a car, he pulled into the circle drive of the largest home he’d ever seen. The damn thing looked like a mini White House—complete with a chandelier hanging from the portico’s sheltered ceiling.

  Whoa. He’d known Libby came from money, but nothing like this. Why hadn’t he stopped for flowers or chocolates? For that matter, he didn’t even have a ring. His sole focus had been on finding Libby, then apologizing for not having figured out how much he cared for her sooner.

  After that, his plans pretty much depended on her reception.

  He rang the bell.

  It chimed with an elaborate, cathedral-like series of rings. From inside, he heard footsteps, and then the sound of someone opening a dead bolt.

  “Yes?” a uniformed maid asked. “May I help you?”

  He cleared his throat and stood taller. “I’m, ah, here to see Libby.”

  “Miss Libertina’s no longer in residence.”

  Seriously? Libertina? And if she wasn’t there, then where was she? “Do you know where she is?”

  “One moment, please.” Instead of inviting him inside, she shut the door in his face.

  He glanced down at his desert fatigues and boots, wishing he’d thought to dress for the occasion. Could he have mucked this up any worse?

  A good five minutes later, the door opened and an imposing man stepped out. Without even a courtesy greeting, he asked, “How much do you want?”

  “E-excuse me?”

  He held a leather-bound checkbook in one hand and a pen in the other. “You are my granddaughter’s father, I take it? The one who broke my daughter’s heart?”

  “No, sir. I’m Heath Stone. Libby stayed with my mother and I when her car broke down.”

  “But she’s driving a reasonably new car.”

  “Yessir, because I bought it. If she’d had her way by driving her old car, she’d have no doubt broken down again.” As soon as the condemning words left his mouth, Heath felt disloyal for even saying them. This was the man who hadn’t believed in her. As such, he didn’t deserve to hear how amazing his daughter really was—even if she had argued with Heath regarding car safety.

  “Then you’re wanting reimbursement for that?”

  Eyes narrowed, Heath said, “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but the only thing I want is your daughter. Is she here?”

  Her father stared him down, giving Heath the sensation he was being appraised. “Yes and no.”

  “Okay...” For all the home’s grandeur, the occupants were about as warm and fuzzy as a chunk of dry ice. “Which is it? Is she here or not? I really need to see her—and Heather.”

  The man’s eyes narrowed. “What business do you have with my daughter?”

  “With—or, even without—your permission, I plan to marry her.”

  *

  LATE NOVEMBER DAYS didn’t get much more beautiful than this. With the temperature in the high seventies and the sky streaked with orange and violet, Libby cradled Heather more snugly in her blanket, breathing deeply of the water’s briny-rich smell.

  Sam chased down the shore after a seagull.

  “Doggy’s silly, but we’re lucky girls, aren’t we? Have you ever seen a more gorgeous view?” Seated on the boathouse’s newly installed swing, staring out at near-glassy Puget Sound, Libby almost felt whole.

  Her parents had been wonderful in their support—more than she ever could’ve hoped for. The boathouse’s lower floor now served as her studio and the upper floor was a posh one-bedroom apartment with a sumptuous nursery alcove. True to his word, Winston had stopped matchmaking and her mother joined all the right committees for the Seattle art scene.

  Over the weekend, Libby and her parents and the baby had driven down to meet Heath’s mother and uncle and even Zoe. The days had been idyllic. Libby cherished the time spent with everyone she loved—all save for one stubborn man she feared she may never get over.

  She’d returned to Seattle with not only Sam, who’d been miserable cooped up with lazy Fred, but two gorgeous container gardens that had prompted her to make more until the deck surrounding her new home now made her heart sing from the dizzying array of colors and scents. Sweet snapdragons and petunias, pungent marigolds. Delicate lobelia and even robust tomato and pepper plants Hal had dug up for her from his vegetable garden.

  Five more galleries had requested her work, and she’d even been invited to speak about her process at an upcoming showing. So many aspects of her life were incredibly satisfying, yet she’d be lying if she didn’t admit to constantly missing Heath.

  The sun took its sweet time setting, but that was okay. After a long day of spinning new projects, she was officially pooped, and all too happy to sit.

  Just as the sky darkened, the faint sound of an engine alerted her to the fact that she soon wouldn’t be alone. A service road made her home accessible for supply deliveries, but she wouldn’t get one at this late hour.

  “That’s odd,” she said to the baby. “Were you expecting a package?”

  Heather gurgled and clapped her hands.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  Libby rose, assuming whoever drove the car was a lost tourist, and set Heather in the playpen she kept on the porch on sunny days, then crossed the pebbled parking area.

  “Lose your way?” she asked the driver, who was exiting a VW Bug similar to the one she used to own. The resemblance was remarkable. It could’ve easily been her car—only better, as this one had been restored to its former glory.

  “Yeah, I am lost,” a dear, familiar voice said, “but not in the way you mean.”

  “Heath?” She didn’t dare hope what his presence meant.

  “I’m sorry.” In four confident strides, he walked to her, wrapping his arms around her waist to lift her into a hug. She was still furious with him, but God help her, he was still the first one on her mind every morning and the last thing every night. Burying his face in her now shoulder-length hair, he breathed her in. “I’m so, so sorry. I messed up everything. Not telling you how I really felt. Selling your car. I was so afraid of losing you, I couldn’t even conceive of keeping you.”

  “Keeping me?” she teased once he’d set her to her feet. “I’m not livestock.” Smile fading, she added, “In all seriousness, you hurt me. I love you, Heath. I offered myself to you, and just like every other man in my life, you didn’t want me.”

  “The hell I didn’t. I’m pretty sure I’ve loved you from the first day we met, but I couldn’t give myself permission to be with you. On so many levels, it felt wrong. But then, the more we were together, I couldn’t get enough of you.”

  “And so you bought me a car that looks like my old one? Heath...” As lovely as the gesture was, she didn’t want a car, but him!

  “It’s not a clone, but the real deal. I know it doesn’t make up for the way I treated you, but what we shared scared me. You scared me.”

  “How?” She’d taken his hand, tracing the deep lines on his work-roughened palm. Dare she hope his being here meant he was prepared to at least try opening himself to another chance at love?

  “You forced me to take stock of my life. You woke me from a deep sleep. For the longest time I didn’t know what to do, or even how to act. But now I get it. I understand that loving you doesn’t make what I shared with Patricia any less valid.”

  “Didn’t I tell you that back in July?”

  “What can I say?” When he kissed her, liquid heat coursed all the way to her toes. “I’m slow on the uptake, but now that I’m here, will you marry me? Oh
—and if it make a difference, your dad even gave his consent.”

  “You asked my dad?” Her eyes widened.

  “Well,” he said, sheepishly smiling, “I sort of just told him. At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do.”

  “What did he say?”

  “That he loves you. And more than anything, he wants you to be content. Does that make you happy?”

  For once swallowing a knot in her throat caused by joyful tears, she nodded. “But not as happy as this...” She kissed him and kissed him until the sky turned dark and stars twinkled overhead.

  Together, they played with Heather and made plans.

  Sam returned from his latest adventure and bayed with excitement for a full five minutes upon discovering his former best buddy.

  After Heather was fed and tucked into her cradle for the night, and Sam had fallen asleep in front of the crackling fire Heath built to ward off the chilly evening air, Libby and Heath shared a simple meal of scrambled eggs and toast much as they had the first day they’d met.

  And then, finally, finally after months of yearning and hoping and praying and longing, Libby’s body hummed with pleasure when Heath carried her to the bed, vowing to always love her in the most intimate way a SEAL can.

  Epilogue

  “Wait—you need something blue!” While Libby dashed off to find the racy blue garter she’d purchased for Gretta’s wedding, Hattie and Pandora worked on the glowing bride’s makeup and hair.

  “I’m all of a sudden so nervous,” Gretta said. “Libby, when you and Heath were married, did you feel this scared?”

  Libby laughed. “Yes—but only because I was afraid the big lug might bolt. As tough as he was to catch, I wanted him officially mine as soon as possible. That’s why we had a Christmas wedding.”

  “You were smart to not give him too much time to escape,” Hattie said, with Pandora nodding in agreement.

  “Gee, thanks guys.” Hands on her hips, Libby shot her friends playful daggers.

  “You know we’re teasing.”

  The upstairs room had grown stuffy, so Libby opened the double doors leading to the veranda and the sweeping Puget Sound view. Since she and Heath were married, her parents had only grown more supportive. Libby and Heather often stayed with them when Heath was deployed. Not only had they purchased a Virginia Beach condo for east coast visits, but her mom had even gone so far as to offer their Seattle home for Gretta’s June wedding. Rose was ecstatic to finally have a special occasion that called for raising a tent on the lawn.

  A knock sounded on the bedroom door.

  “Who is it?” Libby asked.

  “Me,” said a muffled male voice. “I wanna kiss my bride.”

  Gretta swiveled on her makeup chair. “Hal Kramer, you get away from that door this second or the wedding’s off!”

  “Not even one kiss?”

  “No! It’s horrible luck! Now, get!”

  Fortunately for Gretta—and everyone else who’d shared in the planning—the ceremony went off without a hitch. The hundreds of pink roses and lilies were fragrant, the cake was beautiful and the dinner delicious.

  “There you are,” Heath said when Libby finally sat long enough to rest her swollen feet. At three months pregnant, overall, she still felt great, but knew the day was soon coming when she’d be huge and perpetually tired all over again. But it would be worth it—especially if her Norfolk obstetrician’s suspicions came true. “I’ve missed you. Mom’s been hogging you all to herself.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. Wanna dance?”

  “Absolutely.” Easing into his arms and resting her cheek against the muscled wall of his chest, Libby couldn’t remember having ever felt more content.

  Even Heather was giggly while Grandpa Winston waltzed her around the tent.

  Turning introspective, Libby looked up at her handsome husband. “Do you ever regret all of this—us?”

  “Are you kidding me?” Right in the middle of the dance floor, he thoroughly kissed her. “Even though combined we have more family and friends than we know what to do with, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “Good. I feel the same. Only, Heath?”

  “Yeah?” When he looked down at her with his gorgeous, white-toothed grin, her heart never failed to flutter.

  “How would you feel if I told you that during my last ultrasound—you know, the one when you were in Ghana—that the doctor told me he’s pretty sure we’re having triplets...?”

  “How would I feel?” he asked, looking ecstatic but a bit dazed. “Like I might need a stiffer drink.”

  *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from A RANCHER’S HONOR by Ann Roth.

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin American Romance story.

  You love small towns and cowboys! Harlequin American Romance stories are heartwarming contemporary tales of everyday women finding love, becoming part of a family or community—or maybe starting a family of her own.

  Enjoy four new stories from Harlequin American Romance every month!

  Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!

  Other ways to keep in touch:

  Harlequin.com/newsletters

  Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks

  Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks

  HarlequinBlog.com

  Chapter One

  Lana Carpenter woke up with the worst headache ever. With a groan, she cracked one eye open to glance at the clock on the bedside table. But there was no clock, and the dark wood table was nothing like her oak furniture.

  She wasn’t in her queen-size bed at her town house—she was in a king-size bed in a hotel room, and judging by the monogram on the sheets, it was the Prosperity Inn, one of Prosperity, Montana’s, four-star hotels.

  Both eyes were open now. After stealing a peek at the other side of the bed—it was empty, but a dented pillow lay close to hers—she sat up quickly, grimacing at the sudden thundering in her temples.

  The clock on that side of the bed said it was just after ten. She never slept this late—even if it was Saturday!

  She pulled the dented pillow to her face and the lingering scent of a man’s spicy aftershave tickled her nostrils. One whiff and everything flooded back.

  Kate picking her up and commiserating with her over the fact that Brent and Julia had had their baby. Driving to the Bitter & Sweet Bar and Grill for dinner and dancing to a live country-and-western band. Consuming too little dinner and too many cocktails in an effort to forget her ex’s betrayal. The handsome cowboy at the table across the way, and the strong attraction that had flared between them from the first moment of eye contact.

  On the way to the bar, Lana hadn’t even thought about meeting a man. She was still recovering from the divorce and had only wanted to forget that Brent’s new wife had given him the one thing Lana couldn’t—a baby.

  Then the sexy cowboy had asked her to dance, and they’d kept on dancing, with short stops for drinks and casual chitchat in between. After a while Kate had grown bored and left. Lana had stayed, with the intention of finding a cab later to take her home. But she’d soon forgotten all about the cab when dancing progressed to long, passionate kisses and the haste to rent a room within walking distance so that she and the cowboy could...

  “Oh, dear God, I didn’t!” she muttered, shattering the quiet.

  Her clothes lay in a telltale trail that started just inside the door and ended near the bed.

  She definitely had.

  Which was so unlike her. Another groan escaped from her. Normally, she wasn’t much of a drinker. Oh, sure, she enjoyed an occasional glass of wine with dinner, but that was pretty much it. She’d never picked up a stranger, either.

  Sly, that was his name, had assured her that he was clean—Lana recalled that. She’d stated that she was clean and healthy, too. Shortly after Brent had left her for Julia some eighteen months ago, she’d had herself tested. She hadn’t been with a m
an since.

  Until last night.

  She and Sly had more than made up for her year and a half of celibacy. Boy, had they.

  Her cheeks warmed. Then she remembered that sometime during the night, as they lay tangled together after making love, he’d explained he’d have to leave for work early in the morning. Lana was glad he’d let her sleep instead of waking her to say goodbye, because facing him this morning would have been, at best, uncomfortable.

  Mother Nature called. Clutching her head, Lana made her way to the bathroom. There on the counter she found a bottle of aspirin and an unopened half liter of water. Under the water, a note.

  Last night was great. This should help with the hangover.

  Bless the man for his thoughtfulness. After swallowing several pain tablets with a healthy quantity of water, she studied herself in the mirror. Despite her headache, she looked radiant, as if she was still basking in the afterglow of a night of unbridled passion. Sly was right—last night had been great.

  A long shower helped revive her, and by the time she dried off, fixed her hair and dressed in last night’s clothes—clean clothes would have been nice, but Lana didn’t have any with her—she felt almost normal.

  She was shrugging into her coat to leave when her cell phone chirped “It’s Raining Men.” Kate’s favorite song. Lana picked up right away. “Hey there.”

  “You were supposed to call this morning with the scoop. Tell me that handsome cowboy you were dancing with gave you a ride home.”

  Lana glanced at the unmade bed, winced and plopped onto a chair. “Not exactly.”

  “You’re saying you turned him down and took a cab instead? That’s a crying shame, Lana, because for the first time in forever, you were actually having fun with a really hot guy.”

  Kate was right about the hot part. Tall, lean and muscled, with startling silvery-blue eyes and a killer smile, Sly was every woman’s cowboy fantasy. Lana caught herself in a dreamy sigh and frowned. “He never offered me a ride.”

  “Well, shoot. And he seemed so into you. How much longer did you dance before you parted company?”