by Lane, Terri
“Look, you saved my life, and I saved yours. We’re even, but if you want to do me any favors, you can marry my daughter. She’s stubborn as hell, but I think you’ll be good for her, and her for you.”
Jack was taken aback by the suggestion but agreed out of respect. Walter had never been wrong about any advice he’d given Jack in the past, after all. Although the request was unusual, he figured Walter would soon forget about it. And after several years went by without hearing from him, he thought he’d assumed correctly. Clearly, he was wrong.
***
Samantha stepped out onto the damp sidewalk and walked to her car. The weather matched her mood today. Papa had been in high spirits yesterday, but his nurse called today to alert her that he was feeling much weaker. Maybe he overexerted himself, Samantha reasoned. She heard the nurse hesitate at that remark and her heart fell. She advised her to come to the hospital as soon as she got off work, and Samantha assured her she would.
By some miracle, she was getting out an hour earlier than she normally did. She had Jonathan, the other partner in her law firm, to thank for that. With all the bills that had depleted first Papa’s savings, then her own, she was taking on case after case and working herself to exhaustion. Samantha should have felt relief at her early departure, but she didn’t. She felt worried and wished she could have buried her head in her work and pretended Papa wasn’t as sick as he was.
The wind whipped around her, causing her jacket to flap open. The gust of wind blew just as the rain began to pummel her. She ran for her car, saving only the back of her cream colored blouse from the savage rain.
Normally, she would have gone home to change, but today she knew she had to get to the hospital. She’d called the room this morning to check in on Papa, but he hadn’t answered. She didn’t think anything of it until she’d spoken with the nurse. Now she wanted to reach him as soon as she could.
Samantha parked the car and headed up to her father’s room with a sense of dread. Even though he wasn’t gone yet, she already felt alone. She was shouldering the burden of caring for him now, and she alone would bear the difficult task of arranging for his funeral, somehow picking up the pieces, and continue working to pay off the debt that would remain.
Samantha had grown independent when Papa was putting his last good years into the Navy, but this was different. Back then, he was an unstoppable force. It made him seem invincible, and she knew he would be there for her if she called him. It was her own stubbornness that prevented her from reaching out.
He’d acknowledged after he retired that he should have done better by her. Aside from providing for her financially, he hadn’t done much for her, and he regretted it deeply. Although he more than made up for it in the past decade, Samantha knew he would always carry a guilt around with him about it.
Making her way through the long corridor, Samantha inhaled the sterile smells that hospitals are known for. Hospital staff and cafeteria workers bustled around her as if life went on for them. Samantha wanted to cry, but she held back her tears. She was almost at Papa’s room, she couldn’t let him see her upset.
Once inside, she set her purse down and washed her hands before pulling up a chair next to him. For the last several months, she’d taken to reading to him from some of his favorite books, and today she had to finish Maquez’s 100 Years of Solitude.
Normally they sat together as she told him about her day. She would fluff his pillow and sit him up. Today, he looked too frail. And although she wanted to shake him awake and sit him so they could tell each other about their days, she knew he needed the peace. Sitting down, she opened the book to read and cleared her throat to keep the tears from pouring out.
She began to read and fell into a rhythm of reading two pages, checking on him, and picking back up again. Samantha didn’t hear the door open, but the neon lights from the corridor were hard to ignore. She turned and saw a man whose eyes were boring into her.
“I think you have the wrong room,” she said, startled. Why was he looking at her as if he knew her?
“I’m here for Walter,” he said. His voice was gravelly and hearing it sent a shiver down her spine. She shook it off, although she couldn’t stop him from staring at her.
“Oh? I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m—”
“Samantha,” he finished. “I know. He used to talk about you all the time when I served with him. I’m Jack Falcon.”
Oh. That explained it. A fellow SEAL member. She should have recognized him from just his demeanor. Something about the way he carried himself reminded her of her father, a little aloof, as if he was withholding something. She thought her father had seen all his old friends within the past few months. They came in waves, and over the past month, they’d trickled down to the closest two that made their rounds frequently. This one, though, she’d never heard about.
Turning back to Papa, she looked to see if he was showing any signs of waking up despite their hushed voices. His eyes fluttered open and focused first on her and then behind her. He licked his lips and Samantha jumped to give him a sip of water, holding the straw to his lips and using her other arm to raise him up slightly. Jack rounded the bed and helped hold Papa up. She was grateful for the help. He took small sips, barely ingesting a few drops at a time.
Lowering him back down, Samantha stood awkwardly as Papa looked between her and Jack.
“Jack, would you excuse use for just a minute, I need to talk to my daughter alone,” Walter said. His voice was barely audible over the machines humming beside him.
“Sure,” Jack said. “I can come back tonight, if that’s alright. I didn’t get a chance to talk to you after the nurse came in because you fell asleep.”
Samantha noticed a look that passed between the two men and looked at each of them curiously.
Papa hesitated and then replied, “Just stick around for a little bit, I might not be awake later either.” Samantha’s heart sank at his words. She knew he wasn’t talking about sleeping.
“Sure,” Jack said giving her a knowing glance before slipping out of the room. She picked up the book she’d been reading and sat back in her chair next to Papa.
“Papa,” she said holding his hand and giving it a squeeze. “What is it?”
He looked out the window and then back at her. Using all his strength, he reached over to their hands and sandwiched hers with his free hand. “I want you to marry him.”
“What?” Samantha didn’t hear him correctly.
“I want you to marry Jack,” Papa spoke slowly, deliberately.
Samantha sat up straighter and tried to make sense of what he was saying. Had he completely lost his mind? Where was this coming from? “What–why?”
“I never told you this,” he spoke with more spirit. “But that man out there saved my life. He’s...different. His kind hasn’t been treated kindly over the years and those that know about him are…” he trailed off into a fit of coughing.
“His kind?” Samantha whispered in case Jack was by the door. “What does that mean?”
“He’s a shapeshifter. And had his share of trouble with that once he used his skills to save me. I helped make sure that wouldn’t be a problem for him in the future, but I owe him, Sam. I knew then like I know now that you two belong together. He’ll be good for you. I gave him my word.”
“A what?”
“I can’t get into all of it. But, dammit...” He looked away as if frustrated with his inability to communicate with her. When he looked back again, he looked tired. “Just trust me, Sam.”
This was the side of her father she remembered all too well. Overbearing, self-assured and unwilling to hear her side of the argument. Old feelings of resentment rushed to consume her but she tramped them down. “Papa,” she said with an even tone. “I can’t marry someone just because you told him I would. That’s ridiculous. You know that.” He must be more medicated than she thought, given his talk about shapeshifters.
“Sam, I know you don’t want to
hear it. But have I ever done anything that’s not in your best interest? Forget that I gave him my word, look at your debt because of my condition. And anyway, I wasn’t there for anything important in your life. I’d like to be present for the wedding.”
That was it, Samantha had to call the nurse. He was lucid dreaming at best. She reached for the bedside remote but he stopped her, “Sam, I’m not going to force you to do anything, but you know I don’t have long. I want you to give it some serious consideration.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment. Pushing aside the part of her mind that screamed at the prospect of a suddenly arranged marriage, she tried to fulfill his request to consider it. She felt obligated to agree to it simply because Papa clearly didn’t have much time left. She did have debt. A lot of it. She made enough money to keep them afloat but she wondered how long that would last. Papa getting sick was a blow after having had to support her mother with her medical expenses just two years earlier, along with her own debt from law school.
“Sam,” Papa rasped, reaching for her hand. “I need to know you won’t be alone. He’ll take care of you, I promise.”
“I don’t need anyone to take care of me,” she said stiffly.
“You need someone, Sam. I couldn’t be there for you before, but please let me leave you with someone for after I’m gone. Say you’ll consider it.”
Sam looked into his eyes as he pleaded with her. They were shiny, and his brow creased in pain or concern above them. She felt herself sway at his vulnerable state. “How are we even supposed to do this?” she asked helplessly.
Papa squeezed her hand with the little strength he had. “Send him in.”
Rising, Sam poked her head out of the room and saw Jack lounging in the waiting room across from Papa’s room. His head was thrown back and he appeared to be sleeping. “Jack?” she called to him.
His head shot up and he blinked at her. “Is he…?”
“He wants to talk to you,” she said quietly. She avoided his direct gaze and instead murmured an excuse about needing to use the facilities and made her exit.
She didn’t want to hear that conversation go down. Samantha had mixed feelings about the whole thing and she was having difficulty processing them. Logically, she felt adamant that everything her father was proposing was ludicrous. But her emotions were running high right now. Her father had appealed to both her logical and emotional sides. What was more, she trusted his judgement and assessment of people. Everything her father said made sense, except for that talk about shapeshifting. She’d have to clarify that with Jack.
Squaring her shoulders, Sam gave herself a once-over in the mirror and decided to head back to Papa’s room. She had to talk to the nurses about his medication and to Jack about whatever happened when they had served together.
Sam had no sooner rapped on the door to see if they were done talking when Jack emerged. They stood chest to chest and she couldn’t breathe for a moment. He stared her down and she realized his eyes were the deepest light brown she’d ever seen.
“What did he say?” she asked. Maybe her father was too far gone to make any sense to Jack. “Well?” she prodded him when he didn’t answer her right away.
“He thinks we should get married.” Jack replied evenly.
Sam didn’t say anything, but felt a twinge of disappointment at his tone. He didn’t sound excited at the prospect. And why should he? He didn’t need to be saddled with someone just because an old officer of his asked him to marry her.
“I know,” she said, keeping her voice as steady as she could.
“So, does tomorrow work for you?”
***
Jack swallowed his coffee in quick gulps as he tugged on his shoes. He had one suit that he used for special occasions and he shrugged it on, knotting the bow tie quickly. He hadn’t planned on agreeing to marry Samantha. He’d intended to go in, tell Walter that while he appreciated the gesture, he was a big boy now, and he could take care of himself.
But one look at Samantha had him on the losing end of the old man’s pleas. He felt a blow to his gut when he saw her soft, vulnerable green eyes looking at him. He needed no introduction to her, not because she was next to Walter’s bed. No, it was because he felt like he was already connected to her. Being a shapeshifter provided him with senses that he couldn’t explain. He knew when something or someone was dangerous and likewise, he knew when he could trust someone. Sam fell in the latter category, he knew that much.
He failed to see Walter’s logic of him doing him a favor by marrying Samantha. The woman hardly needed anyone to find her a mate. She was intelligent, beautiful, and likely had her pick of men to date. He found the jealousy that piqued with that last thought difficult to ignore. It was silly, really. He barely knew her, but here he was, getting married to her.
He assessed himself in the mirror hanging in the foyer and wondered what the hell he was doing. Less than forty-eight hours ago, he was on a mission, not worried about anything beyond his next meal. And here he was, getting married at the request of an old man on his deathbed.
Releasing a puff of air, he left to go back to the hospital. Walter said he’d told the nurse to call some of his old contacts and arrange for a clergyman to come in and do a small ceremony at his bedside. They’d expedited the paperwork required to file for a marriage license too. If there was one thing Walter had, it was connections. There was no one he didn’t know that didn’t owe him a favor. That’s why Jack felt humbled at Walter’s words to him yesterday.
“You’re the only one I owe a favor to,” he’d chuckled. “And here you are, doing me another favor, I guess there’s no way I can ever repay you. But I can tell you one thing for certain. This marriage will begin as a favor to me, but soon you’ll see that she is a favor to you. She’s my most precious treasure.”
Jack nodded at the old man’s sudden gush of love for his daughter. He didn’t know anything about her beyond what Walter had told him years ago. Jack recalled him telling him how he sent her away to boarding school to provide her with stability when he could only offer her a change of schools every couple of years. Her mother had been absent from her life at that time as well, and Jack wasn’t clear on those details. But it sounded as if she had her own demons that she had to deal with.
Samantha, for her part, sounded like she didn’t appreciate her father’s efforts to give her a sound education and somewhat normal life. He recalled the hurt one Christmas when the plane tickets Walter had sent her were returned unopened. Jack had seen the hurt on Walter’s face, and it was one of the only times he’d seen him show any emotion. He was a stern man, but he’d seen his eyes well with tears when one of the men on their team had died during a mission. Then, when the tickets were returned, Walter had no reaction initially. But Jack knew when he spent all of Christmas alone, despite the many invitations extended to him, that he was hurting.
Jack was glad to see the two of them seemed to have mended their relationship. He could see that each held each other in high regard, so that had to count for something. Jack parked his car and boarded the elevator in the parking garage, ignoring the stares of onlookers at him in his tuxedo.
When he got to the floor where Walter was, he stopped in his tracks. There was Samantha seated in the waiting room. She wore a simple white sheath dress. Her hair was styled up with a few soft tendrils coming down the back of her neck. She was digging in her purse for something when she noticed him standing there. They both stared, unsure of what to say. He was marrying her, and yet he was tongue-tied around her.
He cleared his throat. “You look stunning.” He didn’t know what else to say except the truth. Given the circumstances, she should look frazzled and out of sorts. But she looked calm, beautiful, and her face was flushed, giving her a healthy glow that he could tell came from within because her makeup was minimal.
She blushed more, and Jack offered her his hand. “May I?”
She took his hand without a word, and allowed him to lead her b
ack to Walter’s room.
“Papa?” she said into the quiet room.
“He’s here,” a clergyman rose to receive them. “He asked me to read a few verses to him, and he just dozed off not five minutes earlier. We can get situated and begin whenever you’re both ready.”
Jack dropped her hand and instead placed his on the small of her back. He felt the heat from her body and a similar surge of heat rose within him. He felt the urge to shift forms since yesterday but he’d ignored it. He could feel the need growing, but he knew he had to deny it at least for some time. He didn’t know what Walter had even told Sam about him being a werebear, if anything. He had to assume she knew nothing since she hadn’t had any questions for him. But he also knew Walter wouldn’t let her walk into any situation blindly. So, either she knew and didn’t mind, or Walter had hidden the whole thing from her.
Walter stirred and woke up on his own as they arranged for a couple of the nurses on duty to serve as their witnesses. The whole ceremony was surprisingly quick and unemotional. He had parroted what the clergyman had said, as had Sam. She’d opted to receive a kiss on her cheek, which Jack understood, although he was disappointed by it.
Walter, for his part, was the only one that seemed overwhelmed with emotion. He and Sam took turns hugging him after it was over and the clergyman excused himself. “You don’t know what this means to me,” he said as a grin spread across his face. “I’ve been waiting to see this for a long time.”
Sam didn’t say anything, and Jack felt like she was avoiding his gaze. He gave Walter a smile in return and sank down in the chair next to him.
“No, no,” Walter said when he saw Jack settling in. “You two go. Have dinner.” He coughed and stopped talking for a minute. “I need to rest. That was enough excitement for me today.”
“It’s still breakfast time,” Sam argued. “Why don’t we just order up a tray for you to eat an early lunch with us?”
“He couldn’t have more than liquids earlier,” a nurse said breezing in. “I say you two lovebirds should take off early and come back when he’s rested. No sense in lingering around here, you’ll only stress him out. Isn’t that right, Mr. Meyers?” She gave him a wink.
