Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Excerpt from EASTER BUNNY BABY
Chapter One
Dear Reader
About the Author
Copyright
ST. PATRICK’S BABY
SEAL Team: Holiday Heroes
Book Four
Laura Marie Altom
Chapter One
“SURE YOU WOULDN’T prefer the green beer chug?” Retired Navy SEAL and current adventure tourism guide, Patrick O’Leary, gazed wistfully across Kodiak Gorge’s frozen lake toward the lodge. “If we abort this mission now, we still have time to make it.”
“You’d prefer beer over nature?” His date, Stephie King, grinned up at him from the log she’d perched on while tying her well-worn white skates. Her red hair and freckles officially made her the cutest leprechaun ever. “Last one on the lake is a skunky beer!”
She hopped up, rocketing across the lake’s remote edge. Was there nothing this dynamo couldn’t do? They’d been unofficially dating since the Fourth of July. His friends said he should man up and at the very least ask her to be his steady girl, but Patrick and relationships didn’t exactly work—long story.
Focusing on this unicorn of a sunny day instead of his friends’ advice, Patrick tucked the skates he’d borrowed from his friend Colby under one arm and used the other to close the hatchback on his trusty Subaru wagon. On the drive, the temperature gauge had read a downright balmy thirty-four degrees. The sky was a clear, deep blue and there wasn’t a breath of the north wind that had battered them for months. Perfect days like this made him almost believe he’d survive winter.
“Hurry up, slowpoke!” Stephie waved from the ice. Her butt looked great in tight black leggings. She wore a black down jacket with a shamrock green sweater that matched her eyes. Twin braids hung out from her neon green beanie cap that read: Kiss Me I’m an Alien!
He needed to just take a deep breath and pop the question—not marriage—but for sure asking her to be his girlfriend. Last thing he wanted was for her to date anyone else. With her working in Anchorage as a burn unit nurse and him constantly off in the backcountry, they didn’t see each other nearly enough. If he at least made a partial commitment, maybe she’d visit more? Or he wouldn’t feel awkward when crashing at her place.
He sat on the log alongside her Sorrel boots. When she’d suggested ice skating, he should have offered a compromise. Something along the lines of him drinking green beer while telling her from this log that she had amazing form.
“Patrick, seriously?” Hands on her hips, she cocked her head. “I wanted us to do something together.”
“We are together.”
“You don’t know how to skate.” She sashayed over in a smooth glide, stopping with dramatic flair that had her blades shredding the ice in a fantail.
“Of course I do.”
“Prove it.” Her raised chin reminded him how he used to never back down from a challenge. Now, even thinking about a dare had his palms sweating and pulse racing. For an instant, he squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to submit to the wave of panic that rose every time he replayed the Humvee crash that was ancient history, but to this day made him never want to lose control. Whizzing across ice on a thin blade? Yep, for sure fell under that category.
“I’m good,” he said after forcing a couple deep breaths. “God’s honest truth? I’m having fun watching you. You’re poetry in motion.”
She made a gagging gesture. “You’re full of you-know-what. Oh well, guess while I’m on the medal podium at the next winter Olympics, you can say you knew me when…”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. She was a great catch.
Too bad he wasn’t.
His friends’ wives Rose and Lilianna never should have set him up with Stephie. She was too good for him.
She’d skated at least a hundred yards from shore. It made him nervous. The ice should be plenty thick. On the end of the lake where planes came in and out, the ice pack was regularly tested. Same with the public skating area at the town park. But not out here. The water was deeper and underwater springs constantly bubbled.
“Check out this trick!” She performed a pretty spiral.
“Babe, how about coming in closer? I don’t trust the ice!”
Ignoring him, she now had both arms outstretched, gliding with her face angled toward the warm sun.
“Babe!” She probably couldn’t even hear him.
Ditching his skates, because she’d been right in her assumption that he was a crap skater, Patrick trudged onto the ice in his snow boots. How much more fun would they be having cozied up to the lodge’s fire, sipping on those green beers?
Out here the air smelled different—not as heavily laced with pungent pine, but cleaner. Crisp. The warm weather raised the lake’s faint fishy smell that reminded him of summer.
“Where are your skates?” She rapidly approached. With her cheeks flushed and smile bright, she could have been a schoolgirl. Her womanly curves told a different story.
“I admit it. I can’t skate for crap.”
“Then why did you agree to come?”
“Because I know you love it. I figured I should at least try.”
“Great! Go put on your skates. I’ll teach you some easy moves.” She twirled away.
“I’m only getting into skates if you come closer.”
She waved.
Lips pressed tight, he was once again trudging her direction. This time, he needed to make it clear that she was putting herself in unnecessary danger by skating on untested ice. Near shore, the water was only a few feet deep. By this time in the season, it was frozen solid. He could tell just from the feel that it was good.
She performed another spiral followed by a jump, but she landed sideways and her left skate skid at an angle that was painful to watch. She crashed, then slid a good ten feet from where she’d touched down.
“You okay?” He tried jogging, but the ice was too slick. He switched to a shuffle. “Babe?”
“I’m fine,” she called with a wave before getting back on her feet. “Rookie mistake. My old coach would have made me do a hundred crunches after practice.”
“You competed?”
“Made it all the way to junior nationals, but I didn’t come close to ranking and boys seemed way more fun than five a.m. practice.”
“Boys, huh?” He didn’t want to hear about her being with any guy other than him—even if it had been a decade earlier.
Slipping into a playful Irish brogue, she asked, “Are ye daft? Ye dinna think ye were my only bonny lad?”
“I’d better be…” When she glided a few inches from his reach, he lunged for her, but ended up falling face-first with a solid thump against the ice.
“Are you okay?” She toe-picked to a stop alongside him, crouching to offer him her hand. “That was a nasty fall.”
“Tell me about it.” He groaned, rolling onto his back.
“Sorry I laughed, but you have to admit—oh!” He caught her off-balance, tugging her onto his chest.
“I’m admitting nothing…” With his hand splayed against the back of her head, he drew her in fo
r a kiss. Her breath warmed his lips and smelled minty from the shamrock shake they’d split for lunch. Angling his head for a better fit, he coaxed her lips into parting just enough for him to invite her tongue to dance. Lord, she tasted amazing. So sweet. The fact that he needed her so much when logically he should be slowing things down wasn’t good. Kissing her, however, was very good. Which was why he kept kissing her until she pulled away. “No. Come back…”
“I will, but did you hear that?”
“My frustration? Yes. We should head to my place ASAP.”
“Patrick, I’m serious. Listen…”
At first, all he heard was a faint breeze whispering high in the pines, but then there was a muted crack, as if glass were splintering. Then it dawned on him…
“We’ve got to get back to shore.”
“Why?”
“It’s the ice. That sound is the ice cracking.”
“But it’s been so cold.”
“Doesn’t matter. Get up nice and slow…” His heart pounded. If something happened to Steph—nope. He wasn’t going there. “It’s probably just settling, but let’s not stick around to find out.”
“Are you sure this isn’t a ploy to get me off the ice and to the lodge for green beer?”
Instead of stopping, the cracking noise grew louder, echoing through the ice like an audible web.
Worry knit Stephie’s brows.
He froze. “Nice and slow, get up, then go ahead of me…”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“I’ll be right behind. We should spread our weight.”
“Did you just call me fat?” From back up on her skates, she glanced over her shoulder with a half-smile.
“Babe, I’m not kidding. We need to haul ass or—”
Too late.
With a creaking, groaning shudder, the ice beneath them shattered, plunging Stephie then Patrick into deadly-cold black water.
Chapter Two
STEPHIE DROPPED INTO the lake’s eerie green glow. Shock forced breath from her lungs, leaving her disoriented and panicked. And cold. Incredibly, mind-numbingly cold. Ice chunks made it a struggle to breach the surface, but once she did, she screamed, “Patrick!”
“Here, babe! Stay calm!”
Easy for him to say. She tried regulating her erratic breathing, but all she could think about was how she didn’t want to die. Her pulse raced scary-fast. Her vision tunneled.
“Almost out! Coming for you…”
She took pride in being able to save herself from most situations, but in this case, the harder she tried pushing herself free from this watery grave, the more futile her actions seemed.
But then Patrick was somehow stretched across the ice on his belly in front of her, holding out his hands. “Babe, you’ve got to calm down.”
“I can’t. I’m dying.”
“Promise, you’re not anywhere near dying. Here—” He pushed an object toward her that looked like a mini jump rope made of spiraling black plastic with two blaze-orange handles. “This is called a pick-of-life ice awl. Put the cord around your neck like a scarf, then I want you to grab both handles. They have spikes in the end that will help you pull yourself out.”
“O-okay,” she said through chattering teeth.She reached for the contraption, then followed his instructions. “Now what?”
“I want you to kick and pull. Kick hard up to the ledge, then jab the ice picks into the ice. Use the handles to pull yourself out.”
She nodded. Though her movements were initially sluggish from shock, she forced her mind clear of its panicked fog, then kicked with all her might toward the ice’s edge. Once there, she gritted her teeth, ramming the picks with all her might.
“Good! Now, pull!”
Releasing a lion-worthy roar, ignoring arms screaming with pain, she hefted herself out of the water and onto the ice.
Patrick had flattened himself, and now held out his hands. “Grab hold.”
Stephie did.
Even through soaked cloth mittens, his strength, his heroic goodness warmed her heart and soul. Not until this moment did she realize just how much he meant to her—not because his advice saved her life, but for the myriad memories flashing before her mind’s eye at the instant she’d realized this could be the day she died. She envisioned him the first day they’d met in his friend Tanner’s hospital room. Warming to each other last summer on the Fourth of July. His shy smile. His mossy green gaze. His way of kissing her with an intensity that electrified her head-to-toe.
They’d made love just this morning—slowly, reverently exploring each other’s bodies with enough passion to have reached her soul. If there’d ever been a doubt before, the message currently ringing in her heart was crystal clear. She loved him.
I love Patrick O’Leary.
If I survive, I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you, making each other happy.
Upon reaching not just solid ice, but him, she broke down.
He helped her to her feet, and then back to the log where she’d left her boots.
Seated, because her jellied legs refused to stand, Stephie clung to Patrick, never wanting to let him go. “T-thank you,” she said on repeat while kissing him again and again. “I was so scared.”
“Ditto.” He gave her a gentle nudge away, then dropped to his knees, removing her skates, then wet socks before fitting her icy feet into warm, dry boots. “Let’s get into the car and crank the heat.”
“A-agreed.” She couldn’t stop shivering. “I vote we cancel the rest of the day’s festivities in lieu of soaking in your tub.”
“Deal.” Finished tying her boots, he grabbed both pairs of their skates, nodding for her to lead the way to his car.
Despite the sun’s heat, cold had seeped into her bones. She hugged herself in a futile attempt to stop shivering.
Patrick opened the passenger-side door for her, tossing the skates in the backseat before helping her in and fastening her seatbelt.
With her settled, he climbed behind the wheel and gunned the engine to life.
“You okay?” He glanced her way after putting the car in gear.
“Not really…” She flashed a faint smile. “But I’m working on it.”
“I know what you mean.” He cranked the heat.
In the ten minutes it took to reach the main highway leading through town, the car was toasty and Stephie’s still damp clothes had been downgraded from potentially life-threatening to a soggy, uncomfortable annoyance. “Sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for? I never should’ve taken you out on that side of the lake.”
“Still… If I hadn’t insisted on skating instead of going to the lodge for green beer…”
“I shouldn’t have wanted you all to myself when there’s a perfectly safe public skating area…”
She took his free hand, turning it over to kiss his palm, then hold onto him for all she was worth. “Guess the only thing that matters is that we’re both safe.”
“True.”
The remaining twenty-minute drive was quiet—except for the riot in Stephie’s head. She hadn’t been that afraid ever—well, except for when she was burned in the kitchen fire where she used to work.
Odd, how her first encounter with death had been by fire, and now, ice.
A cabin tucked into white woods served as Patrick’s home. Settled on a valley floor, the few hours of sun it saw per day weren’t enough to reverse winter’s punishing blows. Enough snow had drifted onto the front porch to make entry akin to walking into an ice cave.
Ever think of moving? she’d asked enough times that it had turned into a private joke.
He always answered, Nah. Rent’s cheap in this frozen chunk of Hell.
When he pulled his car to a stop in front of the mostly buried home, she thought about asking again, but somehow couldn’t. Something between them felt off. She could no more explain it than she cared to explore possible reasons why.
“Not going to ask?”
/> Along with a shrug, she cast a faint smile.
He turned off the engine. “Let’s get out of these clothes.”
They exited the car and met at the porch stairs, shuffling through the ice tunnel one at a time. Patrick held open the cabin door for her and she passed through.
Though dark, the one-bedroom cabin was cozy with honey-toned pine floors, walls and even a plank ceiling. A rock fireplace held a woodstove insert that kept the temperature sometimes too warm and the overstuffed brown leather sectional was perfect for cuddling while watching movies.
“Go ahead and grab the first shower. I’ll stoke the fire and add a few more logs.”
I thought we’d share a bath?
Sharing long soaks was one of life’s greatest pleasures. At first, Stephie had been hesitant due to her burn scarring, but the longer she’d been with Patrick, the more she knew that with him, she was safe from judgement.
That feeling she’d had in the car about something being wrong?
It was now worse than ever.
“Hon…” She hovered near the door, still standing on the doormat to protect the wood floor. “Are you okay?”
“What do you mean?”
She fought the urge for an eye roll. “You’re awfully quiet.”
“So?” He’d knelt in front of the woodstove, opening the black cast iron doors to stoke the coals.
“You don’t seem yourself. Is there something we need to talk about?”
Sitting back on his haunches, he sighed. “Take a nice, hot shower and get changed. This can wait.”
“Now I’m scared.”
Leaving the stove, he crossed to her, wrapping her in his arms. “Don’t be. Everything’s fine. We’re fine. I guess out on that ice, I had a few revelations that caught me off guard.”
“Me too.” She exhaled in relief. “All I could focus on was how much I love you. And how much you’ve come to mean to me. I had this rapid-fire slideshow of all the times we’ve shared.” She bowed her head and then gazed up at him, smiled. “Then my heart fast-forwarded to all the wonderful times still to come. How can I ever thank you?”
St. Patrick’s Baby (SEAL Team: Holiday Heroes Book 4) Page 1
