SEAL's Promise - Bad Boys of SEAL Team 3, Book 01

by Sharon Hamilton

  Doc Peters met them already dressed in scrubs.

  “I want to be there. I have medic training,” T.J. whispered to him, trying to calm Shannon’s frowns as another contraction hit her. They were coming more frequently.

  “They’ll get you prepped, but right now I gotta get her examined and then into surgery. We’re set up for a STAT C-Section.”

  T.J. didn’t want to let loose of Shannon’s hand, but finally allowed the heavyset nurse to lead him through a side door after they entered the double swinging doors of the surgery unit.

  Scrubbed and prepped, armed with a mask, the operation was well underway when T.J. and the operating nurse entered the cold, sterile room. The sight of Shannon’s blood on the table was not something he was prepared for, though it was normal and he had seen blood hundreds of times and had it spill or spray all over him many times in battle. She had been put under a general anesthetic, a breathing mask over her mouth. Sounds of her heartbeat were strong, but irregular. He recognized a very faint secondary heartbeat and realized the baby was in serious distress.

  A sensor rang out as T.J. stepped next to the doctor, just far enough away so as not to interfere. The belly incision was completed, and he could see the bluish webbing of skin that was the uterus. A quick slice revealed an unmoving baby with a sickening blue cast to the skin. T.J. caught his breath.

  There was no crying as little Courtney was lifted from her mother’s womb. She was carried to the lighted crib, the pediatrician rubbing her skin roughly with towels under the warm lights, and working to suction her nose and mouth quickly before starting CPR. A monitor was placed on the baby’s chest but there was no heartbeat. T.J. was grateful Shannon wasn’t awake to experience the pain of knowing the baby was stillborn.

  More sensors were going off as they worked on Shannon’s body as it went into convulsions. Orders were shouted over the din of beeping. He might have recognized what was being said, but he was in a state of shock.

  Come on, Shannon. You can’t leave me now. Being drawn between two horrible scenes, T.J. didn’t know where he belonged, and he felt ripped apart.

  He almost missed the little bit of good news as the pediatrician shouted, “And folks, we have a live birth.” The baby still looked a light shade of pale blue, but had some pink to the chest and upper thighs, the face going from a light shade of purple to pink in the stretch of thirty seconds.

  Doc Peters barked at him, “Go be with your baby. Nothing for you to do here, T.J.” He immediately obeyed.

  My baby. No, this is Frankie’s baby. And I’m not going to let anything fuckin’ happen to her.

  The pediatrician’s eyes showed a smile as T.J. touched little Courtney with his gloved hand. “Hey there, little Courtney. You’re all right now. Mom’s a little busy, honey, but you are just as sweet as can be. Love you, sweet thing.” Hot tears coursed down his cheeks, blotting in his mask. He felt the reassurance of a tap to his back by one of the nurses as the doctor placed a breathing mask over the baby’s mouth. Another nurse stuck a needle into her foot to extract blood, which drew a healthy reaction.

  He was given a warm towel to continue to rub Courtney’s feet, squeezing them, feeling the baby pull her toes back, raise her knees. At last he heard a raspy and tremulous cry through the mask. But it was one of the most wonderful sounds he’d ever heard.

  “That’s right, Courtney. You tell your mom you’re here. Tell her you want her to get herself over here to hold you, Courtney, honey.”

  “She’s a big girl,” the doctor said. “Over eight pounds. That’s good for her.”

  “Thank God, she’s a girl.”

  “We’re not out of the woods yet. She can’t yet breathe on her own. But she’s stabilizing. We’ll know more in twenty four hours.”

  “Hear that, Courtney? Honey, you’re gonna have to let them take care of you a little longer. You gotta breathe, sweetheart. We’re all right here. You’re beautiful, Courtney. My beautiful little girl.”

  Work on Shannon slowed as Doc Peters announced her vitals were improving.

  “That a girl, Shannon. Hang in there. No more scares.”

  T.J. stopped rubbing Courtney’s feet and looked over at Shannon’s face, which had also pinked up. Trained to be even-keeled, to keep his emotions in check, he felt like he was going to explode. He didn’t know if it was pain or delight. The mixture of fear and joy jumbled his insides. He wanted to rattle the walls and blow out the windows with a battle cry he knew would scare the entire ward. So he took a deep breath and swallowed. His hands were shaking and his guts were doing flip-flops.

  One of the pretty nurses smiled up at him with her warm brown eyes, her long lashes glistening like she’d been crying too. “She’s going to be fine. Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to.”

  The comment didn’t make him feel better.

  She patted his shoulder again, like she had done before. “Relax,” she whispered.

  T.J. stepped back and almost lost his balance.

  “He’s done,” Doc Peters said to one of the attendants, nodding in T.J.’s direction.

  “No. I’m not leaving.” He inhaled again and stepped to the table and took Shannon’s hand, punctured with tubes held strapped in plastic tape. He rubbed her fingers and felt them warm to his touch. She was still way too cold, but her breathing was normal. “I’m here, Shannon. Courtney is in good hands now. I’m here, baby. Not leaving until you wake up.”

  The pediatrician wheeled baby Courtney from the operating room.

  “She’s beautiful, Shannon. Big strong girl, like you, sweetheart.”

  He felt her body stir. He looked up at the doctor, who had successfully stitched her belly up and was wiping her down with surgical wash. Peters nodded, so T.J. continued. “She’s got Frankie’s big jowls, fat cheeks. And her thighs, well, honey, those didn’t come from you, sweetheart. Must have been on Frankie’s side of the family because that one’s going to be a high jumper. She’s built like a rabbit.”

  A couple of the attendants giggled.

  “I’ve seen lots of babies, Shannon, all wrinkled and misshapen. Little Courtney looks to be a beauty queen so far. Except for her—” He was going to say coloring, or something indicating she looked like a space alien, but thought better of it. “She’s a blueblood all right. Not that she’s blue or anything, just, just—” He wasn’t having any luck recalling something appropriate, so he did something he was used to doing. “Fuck, honey, you sure gave me a scare. I’m here for the long haul, baby. Don’t fuckin’ leave me, Shannon. Don’t ever leave me.”

  The pretty nurse’s eyes sparkled. Dr. Peters grunted, but it was a grunt of approval. The gray-haired physician looked up at him and nodded. In muffled tones coming through the mask, he mumbled. “Go get yourself five or ten, T.J. She’s not going to wake up for another hour or so. We’ll come find you when she awakens so you can be there, okay? Go get yourself a quick nap.

  “But I want to stay,” he answered.

  “If you don’t leave, I’ll make them get you, son. You’ve done all you can. Now leave us to do our jobs. You go do yours, which is buck up for the next round. I’ll be out to see you in a bit.”

  With that, T.J. was led out of the operating room.

  Chapter Twenty-One

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  SHANNON FELT AS if she’d been run over by a girls’ soccer team, cleats and all. Her head was pounding, her belly hurt, and when she moved her legs, it really hurt. She needed some pain medication, and right away. As she opened her eyes, for a second she wondered where she was, and then she remembered.

  Courtney!

  The white ceiling tiles moved back and forth as she started focusing on the sharp burning in her lower belly, intensifying until she heard a groan that sounded like it was from someone beside her, and then felt the last rumbles of it leaving her own chest. Instantly, there was someone peering over at her.

  T.J.

  She wanted to smile, but tears flooded her eyes at the intensity of
the pain. She wanted to be happy to see him, but her body was in panic mode. If she didn’t get something, she’d go mad with the sensations burning in her lower belly.

  “You’re okay, honey. I’m right here. Courtney’s in the nursery,” he whispered to her as he bent and kissed her forehead.

  “Is she—” Shannon found she couldn’t bring herself to say anything more.

  “She’s fine, sweetheart. She’ll have to stay in the nursery for probably a few days, but she’s fine.”

  “Oh God.” A wave of nausea overcame her and she gagged, rolling her head back.

  “Hold on a bit, Shannon. Honey, they’re going to get you something. How do you feel?”

  “I hurt.”

  “I know, sweetheart. It’s coming.”

  An African-American nurse in white loomed over the bed. “Good morning, Shannon. How are you feeling?”

  “I hurt. I’m sick.”

  “You sick to your stomach, too?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, I’ll get you something for the pain, and something for the nausea. You allergic to anything?”

  “It should be in her chart,” T.J. snipped back at her.

  “I don’t remember,” Shannon interrupted.

  “Why don’t you let me do my job. I gotta ask, that’s all, sir.” She was stern with T.J., which bothered Shannon.

  “Please hurry. It hurts.”

  “I know dear. I’m getting it right now. Just hang on for a minute.”

  T.J. talked to her, telling her how pretty Courtney was. She wanted to enjoy what he was saying, but she couldn’t concentrate. Everything she saw, felt and heard coursed through the hot excruciating pain in her lower belly. She felt like someone had punched her there so many times she’d surely be black and blue. She had a faint recollection of some pulling and tugging coming from her insides, and wondered if she’d started to come to during the caesarean.

  At last the nurse injected the clear liquid into the IV tube above her head and patted her forehead. “That should make you feel better, sweetie. Just take some deep breaths, and relax into it.”

  She tried to inhale, but wound up in a coughing fit. T.J. held her head up, supporting her upper spine so she was halfway to a sitting position. His powerful arms felt good as he held her steady.

  “Let me do all the work, honey. Don’t use those muscles just yet.”

  A warm glow emanated from her belly to her heart, and she remembered the new love she had for him, the fresh new glow of a bright future deliciously brightening everything inside her.

  She reached for his face with her free hand. “Love you, T.J.” She couldn’t find him, and didn’t have the strength to search the space in front of her for him. Before her arm hit the bed, his fingers found hers and he squeezed and supported her hand, then rubbed up the surface of her forearm to her elbow, which felt heavenly.

  “Not going anywhere, Shannon. Right here. Love you so much, honey.”

  “So Courtney’s okay, then? I was sure that—”

  “Shhh. She’s a sick little one, but she’s going to be okay. It was close, Shannon. Real close. They think she’s out of danger now.”

  “What happened?”

  “Something went wrong. They aren’t sure, but I hope to God I didn’t—”

  “Don’t be silly, T.J. You didn’t have anything to do with this.”

  “Sure hope not. But she’s a strong girl, and she has to fight an infection in her lungs. It’s something they all go through when this happens. With antibiotics, she’ll be okay, that’s what the doctor told me. He’ll be in later on to talk to us.”

  “Thank God, you were there, T.J. I felt you there the whole time.”

  “I was, honey. They had to kick me out.”

  “When can I see her?”

  “Dunno. Let’s just focus on you getting better. That’s what I’m here for.”

  “No, I have to let Courtney know I’m here. I have to talk to her so she knows I didn’t leave her.”

  When she looked at the expression on T.J.’s face, the full impact of her statement forced tears to her eyes. Neither one of them could speak. He bent and tenderly kissed her parched lips. In a low growl, he whispered, “And I’ll never leave either of you two. Never. Never, never going to leave you.”

  The shiny dark hair at his temple and around the back of his head welcomed her fingers as they sifted, as she pulled him toward her again to claim another kiss. “I know that now, T.J. I won’t ever doubt you or your loyalty.”

  “Or my love,” he whispered and nibbled on her lips again.

  “Or my own. I need you so much, T.J.” She had to stop because the tears were coming again. The jumble of emotions was making her heart flutter. As her pain subsided, some of her desire for this man’s body came rolling back like a favorite blanket to warm her. She wanted him close, to climb into bed with her right there in the hospital room, and comfort her.

  He chuckled, as he must have picked up on her feelings. “Can’t wait to get you home, honey.”

  LATE IN THE morning, they were informed how sick Courtney really was. The fluid she had aspirated could cause a massive infection in her lungs. Blood work had come back with disturbing results, but they were reassured by the fact that the baby was responding to everything they were doing for her.

  Shannon walked the halls with her IV, assisted by T.J., who chattered like a schoolgirl. He had more descriptions of Courtney than she’d ever heard before. It was as if he knew her whole personality. Knew what she would be like as an adult.

  “She’s got a cute face, and oh my God, her long fingers are so graceful.”

  He mentioned over and over again how perfect she looked, which told her he’d been concerned and perhaps she hadn’t always looked that way. “How blue was she?

  “Okay, Shannon. I’m not going to lie to you. She looked like a space alien.” He was serious, and then broke into a warm smile filled with his bright white teeth. “Was beginning to wonder,” he said as he bent down again and kissed her tenderly, “if you had done it with a guy from Pluto or something. But when I saw Frankie’s big ears—”

  “She has Frankie’s ears? Oh. My. God. That’s terrible.” Then she realized his changing the subject from the baby’s skin color had worked.

  “On Courtney, honey, they look perfect,” he whispered as he kissed her right ear. “Just like yours.”

  She was promised a visit with Courtney if she’d take a nap, but Shannon wasn’t having any of it, insisting on seeing the baby. She’d agreed to follow the nurse’s instructions about pumping her breasts since she couldn’t feed Courtney yet, but there would be no real rest for Shannon until she could touch her baby. Even T.J. tried to talk her out of it, which made her wonder if there was something wrong with the baby he wasn’t telling her. Something he didn’t want her to see.

  The neonatal nursery was filled with more equipment than a modern air traffic control tower. Several couples sat beside tiny babies hooked up to tubes and monitors that beeped. Courtney, at over eight pounds, looked like a giant. Although her color was good, she had difficulty breathing, her little chest moving up and down in raspy bursts of motion. It was clear the baby was fighting for her life.

  Shannon took a chair at the side of the plastic tenting. A nurse helped her into Platex gloves and covered her hospital gown with another one, light turquoise in color. The instant she was allowed to rub her gloved fingers across Courtney’s cheek and chest, she felt the connection between mother and daughter. As she had done while in the womb, the baby responded to the sound of Shannon’s voice, even managing a squint that could almost be considered a smile. The forced little cry was sad and pathetic. Shannon spoke to her in a low voice.

  “You’re perfect, Courtney. You do have your daddy’s ears, sorry to say, but you’ll have beautiful brown hair that will cover anything you don’t like about them. T.J. and I are right here.”

  T.J. squeezed her left hand, her fingers laced with his. He began massaging her
neck and kissing the side of her face, which was just the encouragement she needed. He was such an instinctively tender and affectionate man, for all the warrior training he’d had. Knew just what to do to calm her down. She was so glad he was by her side, and couldn’t imagine going through all this without him.

  She closed her eyes and said a prayer. Please, help Courtney to be strong so I can hold her, really hold her. I’ve lost Frankie. Don’t take Courtney, too.

  T.J. must have seen the tear slipping down her cheek because he whispered, “It’s going to be okay, honey. Everything’s going to be okay.” And that was the most wonderful thing he could have said.

  “We’re not going anywhere. We’re here to keep you safe,” she said to the baby. She looked up at T.J., kissed him and then turned back to Courtney.

  “No one is ever going to leave you again. Ever.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

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  T.J. KNEW AS long as he was in Shannon’s room, she wouldn’t sleep, but the bags under her eyes and hollow cheeks told him she really needed rest. He didn’t want to leave, but it was better for her if he did. Best to not interfere with the nurses who were far better informed and equipped to handle their charge. T.J. had enough medical training to stop a man from bleeding to death in the arena, or do a quick stitch up or injection to stop an infection, but the fine tuning in the care Shannon required could only be done by a trained and loving nursing staff.

  He was confident they were what she needed. He left the hospital on his way to the parking lot mulling over the situation with his father in prison. He’d always thought of himself as the guy who could solve anything, could “get ‘er done,” but this had completely blindsided him. He loved Shannon and Courtney, but the old friend Doubt and the evil twin Inadequacy had their hands all over him. It amazed him how quickly and almost comfortably he could go back to feeling like he was not good enough for anyone or anything.