A SEAL's Secret Baby

by Laura Marie Altom

  “Not like this, Deacon. It didn’t have to be this way.” Crouching next to Helen, Ellie pulled her into a hug. “I’m so sorry. You have to know there was never anything between Deacon and me when I was with your son. When Tom was alive, he was the only man for me. He was my world. Deacon and I shared one night before Tom and I even met. Deacon introduced me to Tom.”

  “D-did my son know?” John asked.

  “No.” Ellie was crying now, too. “I wish he had. I tried several times to tell him, but like with you two, the timing didn’t seem right. I love you. Pia loves you. In my heart, this changes nothing.”

  “How can you say that?” Helen tore herself away. “You let our son believe he fathered a child who wasn’t his. You’re not the woman I’ve always believed you to be.”

  “Helen, please,” John warned. “Don’t say things you’ll later regret. Listen to Ellie, hon. Pia is still ours. She believes we’re her grandparents and I believe Tom would always want us to be.”

  Deacon felt as if he were watching the scene unfold on a movie screen. Ellie and her in-laws would eventually rebuild trust and once again be a tight unit, but what about him? Why, when happiness was just within reach, had everything been ripped away?

  Backing silently from the hall, he retreated to the deck, checking on his little girl.

  “Hey, peanut,” he said in a husky voice. He sat on the stairs leading to the yard. “Having fun?”

  She hopped off her bike, ponytail flopping, crossing the wood planks with her funny, lopsided run. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she gave him a great hug. “I love you! Santa came!”

  “I—I know.”

  “I love Santa!”

  The French door creaked open and Ellie stepped out. Eyes red and cheeks tearstained, she asked, “Why are you still here?”

  “Ell, please…” He held out her ring. “I’m begging you. Don’t do this. I’m sorry for spilling things like I did, but you have to know it was for your own good. You never would’ve found the strength or the right time—”

  “Get out of my house.”

  “After all we’ve shared? This is how you want to play it?”

  Refusing to even make eye contact with him, she said, “Please, for Pia—for me—don’t make any more of a scene.”

  * * *

  “NANA PLAY?” Pia offered one of her dolls.

  Ellie’s heart shattered, seeing poor Helen look ten years beyond her age and exhausted. She sat in one of the kitchen armchairs, nursing a hot tea while Ellie and John worked on an early makeshift Christmas dinner.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but Nana doesn’t feel like playing.”

  “Sick?” Just like she’d seen her mom do a hundred times over, Pia held her tiny hand to Helen’s forehead to check for fever.

  “No, but I could use a hug.”

  The little girl climbed onto her lap for a nice, long cuddle.

  John asked Ellie, “These potatoes seem done to you?”

  She stabbed a fork into one. “Yes. I’ll get started on mashing them.”

  With Helen and Pia occupied, he put his hand on Ellie’s back. “I’m not going to lie. What you told us comes as quite a shock. But you don’t know how much I appreciate you allowing us to keep Pia in our lives. And I believe you, that when you were with Tom you never had eyes for anyone but him.”

  Turning off the burner, Ellie drained the potatoes. “I—I can’t apologize enough for keeping this from you for so long. Pia and I both love you. I never meant to cause you or Helen pain.”

  They shared a hug, and Ellie wanted to believe it was a start to healing. But Helen had yet to speak to anyone but her husband or Pia.

  Fury didn’t begin describing what Ellie felt toward Deacon. Knowing him, his wish to be in control, she believed his explanation that he’d thought he was helping. But nothing could be further from the truth.

  * * *

  “HAVEN’T SEEN YOU in a while,” Maggie called from behind Tipsea’s bar. “Garrett and Tristan told me today was the day you were going to pop the question to your baby’s momma. Hope you being here instead of with her and your little girl isn’t a bad sign.”

  “How about you pour me a double of Patrón and then ask.”

  She rounded the bar to give him a hug.

  A sad Christmas song played on the jukebox and the smoky bar was filled mostly with single guys. A few couples were present. One of which slow-danced with a sweetness that made Deacon crave holding Ellie. He should’ve known the happiness he’d shared with Pia and her mom had been too good to be true.

  “She turned you down?” Maggie asked, taking the stool beside him.

  “Worse. Said yes, wore my ring for all of a few hours, then handed it back, hollering for me to get out of her house.”

  Maggie winced. “No wonder you need a drink. This have anything to do with the in-laws finding out about you being Pia’s daddy?”

  “Yep.”

  Rubbing his back and making sympathetic clucking sounds, she shook her head. “Women. Can’t live with ’em, can’t make ’em listen to reason.”

  “No truer words were ever spoken.” He tapped the bar. “Not to change the subject, but what’s a guy gotta do to get a drink around here?”

  “Think that’s really what you need?” Back behind the counter, Maggie flashed a sour look of concern. “Talk to her. Maybe by now she’s calmed enough to listen to reason. You get all liquored up, I’ll take your keys and you won’t be able to even see her.”

  “I’ll take my chances. Please, Maggie, just give me the whole damned bottle.”

  What his longtime friend didn’t understand—would never understand—was that when Ellie chose her in-laws over him, she’d made quite a statement. She’d told him that no matter how much he’d hoped for a future between them, she didn’t care anything about him. All along, he’d been nothing more than a substitute husband. Thank the good Lord he’d learned the truth before becoming the real thing.

  * * *

  ELLIE HADN’T HAD a worse Christmas ever, not even when she’d caught her mother strung out, turning a trick on their living room floor.

  With Pia finally asleep, Ellie tidied to work off nervous energy. Helen had refused to hug her goodbye, but John promised to talk to his wife, and she did show just as much affection for Pia as ever.

  Ellie bent to grab a wad of wrapping paper lodged under the sofa when her eye caught a glint of silver. She reached for it, only to find Deacon’s cell phone. He’d silenced it that morning, not wanting anything to interrupt their special time. Ha.

  Perching on the sofa, Ellie turned on the device, looking at the pictures. He’d taken so many. Videos, too. Pia’s first spin on her bike. Opening her Cinderella Barbie and tin of pink M&M’s with her name written on them.

  Father and daughter favored each other. Ellie hadn’t noticed before, but in the few shots she’d taken, it was clear they each had a cowlick on the right side of their head, and their smiles crinkled their eyes the same. Judging by her expression of pure bliss whenever Pia hugged Deacon, the little girl adored him. Ellie didn’t have the heart to deny him seeing his daughter, but how awkward would shared custody be?

  When he’d given Ellie her ring that morning, she’d been initially shocked. Then had felt guilty. Then…happy.

  How could she now feel so sad? She’d fought for him with Helen, insisting Deacon was a changed man, but was he? The guy she thought she might one day marry would never have been so crue
l. For all they’d done for her and Pia, Helen and John deserved more than the crash-and-burn SEAL method of bad news delivery. The navy might be great at getting bad guys, but when it came to any subject remotely related to sensitivity, it sucked.

  * * *

  DEACON DIDN’T NOTICE his cell phone was missing until the next morning, when he woke on his apartment’s front porch. Maggie had called him a cab, but rather than face his friends, he’d chosen to bivouac.

  Last he remembered seeing it, his phone had been on the side table at Ellie’s, right next to the Christmas tree. The tree he’d helped pick out and decorate. As much as he thought he’d wanted to start a new life with Ellie, he now wasn’t sure he’d be comfortable being in the same room with her. He regretted pushing her toward marriage before she’d been ready, but he’d honestly thought their being together was for the best. Ditto for revealing the truth to Helen and John.

  Cold, hungry and needing to pee, Deacon finally swallowed his pride enough to bang on the door.

  “Where you been?” Garrett asked, still half-asleep. “Maggie called around 2:00 A.M. asking if you made it here all right. She has your keys.”

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “You might be here now,” his friend said, “but where have you been?”

  “I slept on the porch.” Deacon headed for the hall bathroom.

  “What porch?” Garrett followed. “All we have is a concrete slab.”

  Deacon washed his face and hands. “Damn sight better than a lot of places we’ve crashed.”

  “True.”

  He wandered into the kitchen. “We got anything to eat?”

  Leaning against the nearest wall with his arms crossed, Garrett narrowed his eyes. “I’ll make you an omelet, but why aren’t you over at the promised land, otherwise known as a clean house with a willing woman and Christmas leftovers in the fridge?”

  Deacon opted for bologna on white bread with mustard, then said, “I told Tom’s folks everything, they freaked, Ellie freaked. Luckily, it was a nice day and Pia missed the whole ugly scene by playing outside. Then Ellie handed me my engagement ring and asked me to leave.”

  “Holy family nightmare, Batman. You’ve had one helluva holiday.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Hate to make things worse, but just got word we’re shipping out in twenty-four. If you’ve got anything you wanna say to your daughter or former fiancée, now would be a great time.”

  * * *

  “I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOU,” Ellie said at her front door. At least Deacon had had the manners to ring the bell instead of using his key, which she probably should get back. “Since you’re here, take this.”

  She handed him his cell phone, which she’d set on the entry hall table.

  “Thanks.”

  “Daddy!” Pia zoomed around the corner from the living room. “I missed you! Nana got tea!”

  “Really?” He knelt, giving his daughter a hug. To Ellie, he asked, “Translation?”

  “Helen and John gave her a beautiful silver tea set. It once belonged to Helen’s mom, and grandmother when they were little girls. She was quite upset when she left.”

  Go ahead. Rub it in deeper. “I said I was sorry.”

  “Great. So am I.” Sorry we ever met. “Why are you here?”

  “Don’t worry, me being here has nothing to do with you. I’m shipping out and got the luxury of advance notice. I wanted to spend a few hours with Pia—if that’s all right with you?”

  No. But how could Ellie deny him when Pia was so happy for his visit?

  “Santa gave house, too!”

  He again looked to Ellie, who stood with arms folded. “Helen and John also gave her a dollhouse—another family heirloom I pray she doesn’t draw on with the magic markers you gave her.”

  “Whoa.” Deacon scratched his head. “I’ve devoted the last few months entirely to you and Pia, and this snark routine is the thanks I get?”

  She managed a strangled laugh. “Really? This coming from the man who knew how much it meant for me to tell Tom’s parents about Pia myself? In my own good time?” Looking away, she said, “Go ahead, take Pia out, but bring her back by four. We’re having dinner with Helen and John.”

  “So let me get this straight. All’s forgiven with them, but I’m still in the doghouse?”

  She opened the hall closet for Pia’s hat and coat. “It’s hardly that simple and you know it.”

  “Daddy, jump?”

  He laughed, and even as the sound had once made Ellie’s spirits soar, it now destroyed her.

  “Peanut—” he kissed Pia’s nose “—Daddy’s not really up for jumping right now, but let’s go find pizza. That always makes me jump.”

  Ellie dressed her daughter for the chillier weather.

  “Ready?” Deacon asked their squirming girl.

  “Yes, yes, yes! Pizza!”

  Ellie opened the door, bracing herself against it. “Don’t forget to have her home by four.”

  “Will do.” He gave her a cocky salute.

  “Deacon?” Mouth dry, heart pounding, Ellie wasn’t sure how she’d even said his name.

  “Yeah?” He was so handsome, it hurt. But beyond that, he’d betrayed her. She’d trusted him with her secret and he’d not only spilled it, but in a devastating way.

  “Be careful on your deployment.”

  “Why would you care if I get hurt?”

  “Mommy love you!” Pia hugged his leg. “Pizza! Pia love pizza!”

  Sobs caught in Ellie’s throat. Damn you, Deacon.

  For a short while, their life together had been amazingly complete. Why had he gone and ruined it?

  “For the record,” he called out, “you’re wrong in choosing to please Tom’s parents the rest of your life over yourself.”

  * * *

  “NANA!” That night, Pia lunged at Helen the second she opened her beach home’s front door. “Daddy had pizza!”

  Ellie’s stomach sank. She’d hoped to keep Deacon off the conversational table, but try conveying that to a two-year-old.

  “Hello, Ellie.” John took her elbow. “Get in here, it’s cold.”

  “Papa, I tea’d.”

  “Really?” He raised his eyebrows while closing the door.

  Ellie clarified. “That’s her way of bragging we shared tea this morning with her formal silver. I even found a crumpet recipe. We had fun.”

  Helen burst into tears, tugging Pia into a hug. “I love you, baby girl. God help me, but I can’t stop loving you.”

  “You don’t have to,” John said. “We talked about this. Our girls still need us. Ellie did nothing but try to protect us from a secret we might never have needed to know.”

  Helen looked to him and nodded.

  “I’m sorry,” Ellie said to Helen. Tears streaming down her cheeks, as well, she admitted, “You’re the only true mother I’ve ever had. I can’t lose you and Tom.” And Deacon? How do you feel about losing him? Truthfully, horrible, but how did she even begin forgiving him for what he’d done?

  Holding out her arms to Ellie, Helen said, “Next time you two make crumpets, mind if I help?”

  “I’d love nothing more.” With both women crying, sniffling messes, John and Pia joined in on their group hug.

  Bored with crying, Pia said, “Nana ice cream?”

  Helen laughed. “Yes, honey, you know your nana always has lots of ice cream.”

 
* * *

  DEACON AND HIS TEAM had hiked a good twenty miles inland from the Gulf of Aden. A group of allies were outgunned and needed help evening up a fight.

  His night vision scope was giving him a headache, and again he found himself with too much time to think.

  What’d happened?

  How had he gone from his chest feeling swelled with happiness to now being tight with dread—not just about losing Ellie and a huge amount of time with Pia, but this mission. It’d felt voodoo from the start. They’d landed a few miles off course, encountered enemy fire where scouting reports had said there would be none, and now, two klicks from their destination, initial lead teams reported nothing where there should’ve been an encampment of at least a hundred men. SEALs were in the business of giving surprises, not being surprised. A fact that only increased his dread.

  * * *

  YOU WERE WRONG in choosing to please Tom’s parents the rest of your life over yourself.

  On her own at the boutique the Tuesday after Christmas, Ellie couldn’t keep Deacon’s words from messing with her head. Folding T-shirts, listening to Maroon 5 while outside a light snow fell and the scent of her favorite candy-cane candle filled the shop, she should’ve been content. Pia was having fun and hopefully learning a little at nursery school. They were both meeting Helen for a late lunch at their favorite teahouse. Life should’ve been good, so why did she feel empty?

  As if she’d lost her best friend for a second time?

  She liked to blame Deacon for what had happened on Christmas, but could she have been just as much to blame? She’d promised him that she’d reveal the whole truth to John and Helen by then, but had failed. Had she been wrong in sending Deacon away?

  Pia constantly asked about him, which only weakened Ellie’s resolve to cut him from their lives. Sure, now that he was deployed, it was easy enough to pretend he’d never been with them, but what would happen when he returned? When her daughter wanted him to play catch and throw rocks and tickle?