A SEAL's Secret Baby

by Laura Marie Altom

  “Where are you going to go? Gonna hit your favorite bar? Be reckless with your bike? You’ve done enough running, Deacon.” Ellie eased her arms around his waist, resting her head against his heart. His pulse always quickened when she was near, but this time was different. Somehow she’d become his safe harbor. The fact that she would keep a secret from him rubbed him raw.

  “Tell me.”

  “Helen blames you for Tom’s death. There, I said it. Feel better?” Grabbing a box of Saran Wrap, Ellie drew a piece out, slapping it over the remaining pumpkin pie.

  Deacon wasn’t sure what he’d expected her to say. Anything but that.

  “Deacon, I understand how—”

  “You understand? No. I’ve been blamed for one death in my life and that was enough. Losing my brother changed my life’s course. Seeing the look on my father’s face made me wish I’d died instead of Peter. The navy saved me. Tom’s friendship saved me.” Grabbing Ellie’s upper arms, Deacon said, “You have to believe I did everything I could to keep him with us, but God had other plans.”

  Clutching the front of his shirt, she pulled him toward her. Time froze when again they stopped perilously short of sharing a kiss. “I fought for you right to her face. That’s why we were at odds all day, because I told her she was wrong.” Tears streamed down Ellie’s cheeks. “She has you all wrong.”

  “Does she?” To know Ellie believed in him meant more than she could ever know. He held on to her for all he was worth. “I’ve replayed Tom’s death a million times in my head. I know in my heart that other than me taking the bullet for him by standing where he’d been, there was nothing I could do. I tried stopping the blood, but it came too fast.” He buried his head in Ellie’s sweet, flowery hair. It was soft and so foreign from that hot, dark corner of the world where Tom had died that all Deacon wanted to do was lose himself in this woman’s beautiful smell.

  “I know….” She reached up, caressed his face. “Let’s leave this mess till morning. Everything looks better with sunshine.”

  “Sure. You go on to bed.”

  “I think you misunderstood.” Taking his hand, she kissed his palm. “The last thing I want is to be alone. I don’t want you to be alone, either.”

  “I’m not prepared to—well, you know what, Ell. Not like this.”

  “Did I ask you to? What’s wrong with holding each other? Is it wrong for me to want to be held?”

  Chapter Ten

  Ellie woke in Deacon’s arms. Even though they’d slept till seven-thirty, the room was dark. Sleet clawed the windows.

  Despite the ugly weather, Ellie snuggled closer to Deacon. He was so warm, and after yesterday, a bone-deep chill had taken hold. Her world felt upside down. She loved Helen. Ellie wasn’t yet sure what she felt for Deacon, but whatever it was, she needed him in her life.

  The last man she’d shared this bed with had been Tom, but her life with him seemed a million miles away. And for once, that was okay. She would always love him, but that love had changed. Softened into a beautiful memory she’d forever cherish.

  From behind her, she heard a sleepy groan. She closed her eyes in pleasure to feel Deacon’s warm breath, then a kiss on the nape of her neck. “Good morning.”

  “Yes, it is.” Relaxed against him, Ellie felt as if the bed had become an island in the midst of her life’s wreckage. Before yesterday, she’d placed Helen high on a pedestal. Now, her mother-in-law had been reduced to mere mortal status, which made Ellie sad, but also a lot more mature. No one was perfect. Yet everyone deserved forgiveness for their mistakes. Ellie had already forgiven Helen, but would her mother-in-law be kind enough to do the same?

  Squeezing her tighter, Deacon said, “Remember how we promised the peanut a trip to the mall to see Santa today?”

  Now Ellie was the one groaning. “With any luck, she forgot. What were we thinking? The day after Thanksgiving should be spent lounging in front of a fire eating leftovers, not fighting mall traffic.”

  “Agreed, but I’m not going to be the one breaking her heart. You tell her.”

  “What am I supposed to say?” Tracing her finger down his forearm, Ellie suggested, “Santa is really a SEAL and he had to leave town on a mission?”

  Deacon laughed. “That’s actually pretty good. Only a SEAL could easily accomplish all the big guy does in one night.”

  That cocky statement earned him a smack.

  “Santa!” Dressed in the footy pajamas they’d changed her into before tucking her in the night before, Pia crawled onto the bed, then proceeded to jump. “Santa! Santa!”

  Deacon sat up, pulling his daughter onto his lap to blow a raspberry on her cheek. “I can’t wait to see Santa! But I think your mom has bad news.”

  “You’re a rat,” Ellie exclaimed. Obviously, without major tears, there was no way they’d be able to skip this outing. “But since the mall doesn’t open till ten, let’s at least go out for a nice, civilized breakfast.”

  “Hate to break this to you,” Deacon said, looking extra adorable with their daughter on his lap, “but I just saw an ad on TV that the mall is open at 6:00 A.M. for the whole holiday season. We could be taking pics with Santa right now.” He winked.

  “Now, Santa! Now!” Pia leaped to her feet and resumed bouncing.

  “You and I,” Ellie said to Deacon, “are no longer friends. Have you looked outside?”

  “What’s a little sleet? Maybe if we’re really lucky it’ll turn to snow.”

  Oh, it snowed all right. By the time they left the mall, laden with gifts for everyone from Helen and John to Garrett and Tristan to Ada, the parking lot was covered in at least six inches.

  The line to see Santa in his workshop had wound all the way from the Jelly Belly Hut to Sears, the equivalent of twenty miles in mall walking.

  Through it all, Deacon hadn’t just kept his cool, but he’d schlepped heavy bags and even Pia when she grew fussy in her stroller.

  Almost to the car, a familiar voice called, “Deacon? Is that you?”

  Ellie turned to see the base commander’s wife, Paula, jogging toward them through still-falling snow.

  “Hey, Mrs. Duncan.” Deacon raised the hand holding the fewest bags in a wave.

  “I run into you at the oddest places—and Ellie and Pia. I think of you often. How are you?”

  “We’re good.” Though the woman’s voice was friendly, Ellie got the feeling she was also fishing for information on whether or not they were an item. Navy wives, Ellie supposed, were just like many others—they loved to gossip. “Thanks for asking.”

  “Finish your shopping?” she asked.

  “Mostly,” Ellie said. “We still have a few to go for certain little people.” She grinned and nodded Pia’s way.

  “Ah, she’s a cutie.” Mrs. Duncan tugged one of the swinging pom-poms on Pia’s hat. “I haven’t even started on my grandkids. With six, it takes me days. William never does a thing to help. You’re lucky to have wrangled Deacon into at least being your pack mule.”

  “I am.” Ellie nodded, glancing his way. There he stood, snow piling on his shoulders, carrying at least fifty pounds of stuff without showing the slightest strain. The entire day he’d been good-natured and generous and helpful. And handsome. And funny. And a wonderful, wonderful father to Pia. “I am very lucky.”

  “Well, guess I’d better get all of this in my trunk. Bought my daughter a way-too-pricey leather purse that probably shouldn’t get wet.”

  “Need help?” Deacon asked.

  “No,” she said with a laugh, “but you’re a sweet boy for asking. You kids enjoy the rest of your night.”

  Once Pia was safely clicked into her seat and Deacon pulled the car out of the lot to join the long line of others fighting their way from the mall, he said, “Did you mean that?”

  “What
?” His profile was lit by the dash lights, and the sight of him quickened Ellie’s breath.

  “That line you told my commander’s wife. About you being lucky—you know, for having me in your life. Is that true?”

  She took his hand and smiled. “More than you’ll ever know.”

  * * *

  “SNOW THE DAY AFTER Thanksgiving and sunny and sixty on Christmas. Methinks Mother Nature is confused.” Deacon stepped back from the living room’s French doors. “Should we wake the peanut to get a jump start on opening her gifts?”

  “What’s your hurry?” Ellie yawned. She looked so pretty curled into a corner of the sofa, hugging a throw pillow, her long hair a tousled mess. The affection he felt for her was almost painful. Like if he lost her or Pia, he wasn’t sure what he’d do.

  “Helen and John aren’t due until five for dinner,” Ellie added. “They wanted to be with Pia Christmas morning, but I couldn’t take the pressure.”

  “Of us all being together?” If his plan worked, Ellie wouldn’t have to worry anymore.

  “Santa?” Pia rounded the hall corner, rubbing sleepy eyes. “He came! He came!”

  Pia jumped onto her hot pink big-girl bike with training wheels. Deacon had spent most of the night assembling it, but all traces of his exhaustion vanished upon seeing his daughter smile.

  “Pretty!” Glitter handlebars with streamers were accompanied by a sparkly pink seat. “Ride! Ride!”

  Since it was such a nice day, Deacon opened the deck doors, letting her circle around. The air smelled sweet, with the far-off promise of spring.

  “While Pia’s playing, how about you open a present?” Deacon reached into the thigh pocket of his camo pants, withdrawing a small box.

  “Deacon…” Ellie’s pale blue nightgown fluttered about her calves in the light breeze. The filmy fabric was translucent, only bettering the view. Sweeping flyaway hair behind her ears, she asked, “What did you do?”

  “Vroom! Vroom!”

  On bended knee, with their daughter happily circling, Deacon said, “I know I should wait for a more romantic moment and you don’t have to say yes right away—or forever, I guess. But the truth is, we share a beautiful daughter, and even though part of me feels traitorous to Tom, he’s not here and we are. I know we still have a ways to go before we’re even a real couple, but more than anything, Ell, I want us to try. I want you, me and Pia to always be together, and—”

  “Deacon…I don’t know what to say. This is so sudden.”

  “What are you talking about? You have to have felt whatever it is growing between us.”

  “Vrooom!”

  “Of course, but…” Tears filled her eyes. “You know how much you mean to me, but I’m afraid.”

  “Of what? You have to agree that lately life’s been good.”

  She nodded and sniffled.

  He took out the simple, square-cut ring a jeweler had assured him she’d love, and slipped it on her ring finger. “Look, it’s a perfect fit. Isn’t that a sign?”

  “It is really pretty.”

  Damn straight. Took him and Pia a good hour to pick, not that their antsy little girl had been much help. “Like I said, this isn’t something we have to jump into right away. I’m just tired of you and me being in limbo. I want—need—for you and Pia to officially be mine.”

  Nodding, she agreed.

  Relieved beyond words, Deacon settled into the spirit of Christmas morning. Hoping, praying phase II of his plans for the day went just as well.

  * * *

  “HELEN, TOM…” Ellie opened the front door, surprised to see her in-laws five hours early. She hadn’t even had a shower yet, let alone started the ham and all the trimmings. “You’re early.”

  “Deacon told us noon.” Helen brushed past with an armload of gifts.

  “Nana, Papa! I got bike!” Pia had gotten plenty of other gifts, too, but she was now seated on her bicycle, playing with two new dolls in the basket. “Look at me!”

  “I see,” Helen said on her way to place the presents under the tree. “You look so grown-up and pretty. I love all the sparkles.”

  “Me, too!”

  “Ho, ho, ho!” John hefted two trash bags filled with more gifts. “Look what Santa left for you at our house, Miss Pia.”

  “Presents!” She hopped off her bike and skipped to the fragrant, decorated tree.

  “Why did you tell them noon?” Ellie asked Deacon under her breath in the entry hall. “You knew we were having dinner, not lunch.”

  “It’s all good. You’ll see. I’ll help you cook.”

  Ellie prayed his kiss to her forehead hadn’t been noticed.

  “Vrooom!” Pia was back to riding her bike, only now through the living room.

  “How about this great weather?” John asked. “Whoa—sorry, I, uh, didn’t mean to walk in on anything.”

  “That’s okay.” Much to her everlasting horror, Deacon slipped his hand around Ellie’s waist, cinching her close. “I suppose now’s as good a time as any to share our great news.” Grabbing her left wrist, he held up her hand just in time for Tom’s mother to enter the room. “Helen, John, this morning I asked Ell to marry me and she agreed.”

  Helen’s complexion turned gray. “You can’t be serious! Ellie, honey, please tell me this is a joke. You and I just talked. You know what kind of man Deacon is.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Deacon dropped his arm from Ellie’s waist. “Ell told me you blame me for Tom’s death, and that’s total B.S.”

  “You going to allow him to talk like that in front of your daughter?” Helen asked Ellie. “Our granddaughter?”

  “Ellie,” John said, “you clearly aren’t thinking straight. Deacon, man to man, while I appreciate all you’ve done for my son’s wife and daughter, your services are no longer needed. Ellie…” Her father-in-law put his arm around her. “I’m sorry. Helen and I should’ve made this offer sooner, but you and Pia should come stay with us. You’ve been overwhelmed, but from here on out, we’ll take care of everything.”

  “Please, all of you hush.” Ellie pressed the heels of her hands against her forehead. Time for damage control. As long as Deacon kept his big mouth shut about Pia, everything would be okay. “Pia, honey, go play with your toys in your room.”

  “No!” She folded her arms. “Ride bike!”

  “Her new ugly side is your influence,” Helen said to Deacon.

  “Come on,” Ellie said to her little girl, “go ride on the deck.”

  “Vroom! Vroom!”

  With her daughter just outside, but where she could still see her, Ellie looked to John. “I appreciate your more than kind offer, but I’m a grown woman and perfectly capable of living on my own.”

  “Then why is he always here?” Helen pointed to Deacon.

  Deacon sighed. “For the love of God, Ell, I tried doing this your way. I wanted Tom’s folks here early, so we’d have plenty of time for them to adjust to our news. I know how scared you’ve been, carrying this burden, so I thought why not help you out?”

  Don’t you do it, Deacon….

  “You know,” he continued, “give you a nudge.”

  “The only thing she needs help with,” Helen said, “is getting you out of here. You’ve been honing in on our son’s wife and child ever since he died. If you ask me, it looks suspicious.”

  “Helen,” John scolded. “It’s been over a year…”

  “Oh, you wanna go there, Helen?” Deacon’s expression had reverted back in time to full-on bad boy. “Here’s the truth Ellie couldn’t bear to tell you.”

  “Deacon, no!” she pleaded, gripping his shirt.

  “Ell, sorry, but it’s long past time for this secret to come out.”

  “What’s he talking about, Ellie?” John asked. “Is D
eacon holding something over you concerning our son?”

  “Dammit!” Deacon snapped. “What did I ever do to you people but love your son? Yes, he died beside me, but a lot of other guys have, too. Their parents didn’t have the audacity to blame me for something the devil with a sniper rifle did. As for the reason I’ve been over here as often as possible, Ellie, you want to tell them or should I?”

  “Oh, God…” Covered with a cold sweat, her pulse racing to a dangerous degree, Ellie bolted for the bathroom. “I’m going to be sick.”

  Helen chased after her, banging on the closed door. “Ellie, honey? Are you okay? Let me in.”

  “Should I call the police?” John asked, his voice muted from where he no doubt stood alongside his wife.

  Ellie emptied her stomach, then stood before the sink, pressing a cold rag to her flaming cheeks. This was all too much, and not the way she’d wanted her in-laws to learn the truth. Bracing herself, she cursed Deacon for forcing her into a corner where she had no choice but to fight.

  Opening the door, she eyed three of the four people she loved most. “Helen, John, I don’t know any other way to do this, so I’m going to come right out and say it. I—I’m sorry, so deeply sorry, but P-Pia isn’t Tom’s daughter, but Deacon’s.”

  Chapter Eleven

  For over four months, Deacon had believed this was what he wanted—for everyone, especially Tom’s folks, to learn he was Pia’s father. But now, seeing Helen on her knees, crying uncontrollably, with John behind her, trying to keep cool, but not looking much better, Deacon was ashamed.

  “Look,” he said, “I’m sorry everything came out this way. I just thought it was high time we all knew the truth.”

  “Take this.” Ellie wrenched his ring from her finger, slapping it into his hand. “And get out. You’re not the man I thought you to be.”

  “You can’t be serious, can you?” He half laughed. “Ell, you had to tell them eventually. They had to know.”