Heart of a SEAL

by Dixie Lee Brown

  Sally gradually settled, crossing her arms on top of his and glancing at him over her shoulder. “Morning sickness was so bad with Jen I knew before I ever took the pregnancy test. It was just a formality. I don’t think I’ve ever been more alone or scared as I was then. So sick I couldn’t make it to work half the time and barely making ends meet as it was. I didn’t know Rachel very well back then, but she could tell something was wrong, and I finally told her I was pregnant.” Sally stopped and leaned her head back on his shoulder.

  Luke had never felt so helpless. He was used to being in the thick of battle, making shit happen, but there was nothing he could do but listen, and it was killing him.

  “I wouldn’t have made it through the next eight and a half months without Rachel, Peg and Jonathan. They literally saved my life. And then Jen was born, and I couldn’t believe something so good, so perfect, had come from all that ugliness.” Sally shifted in his arms, turning sideways, love shining in her eyes for her daughter, who was currently helping Bridgett examine some treasure she held.

  “She’s pretty incredible…and you’re an amazing mother.” Luke pressed his lips to her ear, wiping an errant tear from her cheek, happy to hear her chuckle at his compliment.

  “I am, aren’t I?”

  He snorted. “And humble too. How many more would you like, sunshine?”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “Babies? A couple should do it.”

  The idea of creating babies with this beautiful woman made him smile. Sally and Jen had been all the family he’d craved, and they’d seemed unattainable a few short days ago. Nine months ago, he’d been faced with the possibility of never walking again. Only a week before that, he’d accepted the fact he would likely die in a filthy shithole somewhere in Afghanistan. Now, babies? Luke buried his face in the crook of her neck as his vision blurred and his eyes burned with unshed tears—the first he’d allowed since Ian’s death.

  Sally shifted again, her front meeting his as she slid her arms around his neck. “Thanks for not judging me, Luke.”

  He squeezed her tighter, not trusting his voice, and they stayed like that for a long time, listening to the chatter of the kids and their carefree laughter.

  “Hey, Harding, ya wuss! Dinner’s ready. Quit screwin’ off and get your ass up here.” Travis’s gravelly drawl intruded into their peace.

  Sally’s head jerked up. “Travis, you promised to work on the language thing.” She raised her voice to the same level his had been and glared at him where he stood about a hundred feet away. Tall grass, driven by a light wind, fanned around his legs. Behind him, all the lights were on in Daniel and Ellen’s cabin and, for the first time, Luke noticed the aromas of good home cooking wafting on the breeze.

  “Oh, sh…I mean shoot, Sally. I’m sorry. I forgot about the kids. I swear, it won’t happen again.” Travis shook his head, turned and stomped toward the cabin, still talking and waving his arms.

  “Mom, are we going to eat?” Jen rose and started gathering her fishing gear. “I’m starving.”

  Sally’s eyes shone with love for her daughter, and, again, Luke felt an inkling of possessiveness.

  He caught her gaze and held it until her smile faded. “Thanks for letting me in, sunshine.” He would call Sheriff Anderson in Huntington first thing tomorrow and get the lowdown on Connors. Then he’d ask Ben to check the whereabouts of Jen’s father the night Sally’s house burned. The man wouldn’t be the sheriff for long if Luke had his way. He almost hoped Connors didn’t have anything to do with the events at Sally’s house or, later, on the road to Aunt Peg’s. Luke would much rather Sheriff Connors remained free so he could take his time destroying the man’s fucking life.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sally glared at the digital clock beside the bed. Midnight. She reached out and slapped the top of the clock sharply. The darn thing must be broken. Time couldn’t possibly crawl that slowly. From somewhere in the covers behind her, a soft whimper sounded, and Sally held her breath.

  Jen had gone to sleep as soon as her head plopped on the pillow, even though the girl had had the same traumatic day as Sally. Maybe meeting the grandfather she hadn’t known existed wasn’t as scary for her. After all, she hadn’t seen him with blood on his hands.

  No, I’m not going to think about him. It’s enough to know he’s out of my life, and Jen’s, for good.

  She’d been looking over her shoulder for so long, her watchful gaze scanning the faces in every crowd, she couldn’t stop her brain from replaying the unbelievable scene that had unfolded in Daniel and Ellen’s cabin that morning. Analyzing. Second-guessing. Doubting. Finally allowing herself to hope it might actually be true. She was a mess. No friggin’ wonder she couldn’t sleep. Where was Luke when a girl needed him?

  A groan escaped her lips. As though things weren’t chaotic enough, she’d told Luke about Jen’s father, something only one other person in the world knew about, leaving out none of the dreadful details. He’d been angry. She could tell by the heat of his body and the way his jaw tightened. But he’d listened, asked a few questions and hadn’t tried to fix everything. That was a good sign. He always seemed to know the right things to say.

  She slapped a hand over her eyes. Oh. My. God! She’d forgotten momentarily. Please…someone tell me I didn’t say yes to his marriage proposal this morning in the middle of a scene right out of The Godfather.

  Something sounding suspiciously like a hysterical giggle rose within her, and she moved her hands to cover her mouth so she wouldn’t wake Jen. As though that was even a possibility. Her daughter had always been a sound sleeper, even as a baby. A herd of cows stampeding through the cabin would have trouble waking her.

  On the other hand, I’m going to lay here wide awake for the rest of the night!

  She listened for a moment but heard nothing from the front room, except the sound of the wind rattling the front door. Luke had insisted she and Jen take the bed and he’d sleep on the couch. His six-foot-three-inch frame wasn’t going to fit well on the barely five-foot couch. Could he possibly be sleeping soundly? Maybe she’d just take a peek.

  Carefully, Sally slid from the bed, waiting a few seconds to make sure Jen still slept, then tiptoed away. The cut above her knee stung as she took her first step, and the cool air slid over her skin. The tender flesh at the site of the rough-edged wound was sore and slightly swollen. Matt had said that was to be expected, but if it appeared red or infected by morning, they’d be making a fast trip to urgent care. Sally had waved away his warning, hoping a day of rest was all she needed.

  Crossing the threshold into the front room, she padded softly to peer over the back of the couch. Luke lay stretched on his side, arms and legs dangling over the edge of the cushions. His mouth barely open, his breaths worked in and out with the slightest wheeze. Long strands of hair cascaded over his forehead and into his face. Peaceful. Sally didn’t have the heart to disturb him.

  A flash of light from beyond the window snagged her attention, and she walked silently across the floor until she could peer outside. A staggered shaft of lightning split the darkness and lit up the night sky to the southeast. She counted off—one thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three—until she reached one thousand eighteen and a rumble of thunder cut her off. Sally smiled. According to the lesson her mother had taught her when she was a little girl—younger than Jen—the storm was still eighteen miles away. One count between lightning bolts and the resulting thunder marked each mile. She used to love thunderstorms…before her mother died.

  Two minutes passed before another lightning bolt zigzagged to the ground. She flinched, only reaching one thousand five before thunder crashed nearby, fading to a rumble until it finally disappeared beneath the sound of the wind. She’d always loved the smell of the air right before a rainstorm, so she strode toward the door and pulled it open. The wind, whipping through the opening, nearly jerked the doorknob t
hrough her fingers.

  She started when Luke caught the edge of the door with one hand as he stepped up silently behind her and slid his arm around her waist, pulling her back against him. The storm picked that moment to hurl another lightning bolt, closer this time, and she barely made it to one thousand two before the thunder boomed and sent them both back a step.

  Luke braced one shoulder against the door and joined his arms around her, holding her tighter. “What are you doing up? Couldn’t sleep?” He spoke close to her ear and still the wind tried to carry his words away.

  “Not a wink.” She leaned against his strong, hard chest and folded her arms over his. “I didn’t mean to wake you, though.”

  “I’m a light sleeper these days.” He planted a kiss below her ear, and his warm breath on her cheek sent a shiver racing through her.

  The storm had cooled the day’s heat, but now the wind across Sally’s skin wrapped her in a chill not caused by the temperature of the air, and she trembled for a different reason as a pinprick of anxiety invaded her space.

  “Are you all right?” Perceptive as usual, she felt him tense.

  No. She wasn’t all right, but how could she explain that to Luke when she didn’t understand it herself? She sensed something…and the odd feeling in the pit of her stomach felt strangely like dread where only happiness had rested a moment ago.

  The next instant, the sky opened and the rain poured down, soaking the earth and beating out a staccato rhythm on the roof. Lightning flashed and the thunder rolled. There’s a song with those lyrics, isn’t there? That damn hysterical giggle was back, but she refused to allow it to surface. Sally was glad for the darkness. If Luke couldn’t see her face clearly, hopefully, he wouldn’t read the apprehension that was surely visible there. She should tell him she was fine, but that would be a lie. Something in the air—the darkness—the wind and the rumble of thunder across the meadow—

  A sudden shudder caught her off guard and stopped her in midthought. “Do you feel that?” She rubbed her arms, rough with goose bumps. Logic told her she was being ridiculous, yet the certainty that someone or something was watching them grew until no doubt remained.

  “Feel what? Are you cold? Let’s go inside.” Luke tugged her toward the warmth of the cabin but, held captive by something just beyond the fringe of her senses, Sally’s legs wouldn’t cooperate.

  She’d never been one to believe in premonitions or unseen evil, but the fear tap dancing along her spine wasn’t normal. It’s only the storm. I’m having a panic attack over nothing. Just breathe.

  Luke took her by the shoulders and forced her inside, closing the door. With the storm locked out, she should be okay…but she wasn’t. The presence was all around her. I’m going crazy. All the warmth seemed to have left her body. She pushed Luke away and hugged herself, rocking back and forth on her feet. As though awakening from a dream, she slowly became aware of Luke saying her name, worry and confusion evident in his voice.

  “Sally? What’s going on? You’re freaking me out, babe.”

  It seemed as though a great deal of time had passed, yet it couldn’t have. It was still dark. The wind still blew the rain into the side of the cabin in gusts and the thunder rumbled, though farther away now. She met Luke’s gaze and held it as though it was a lifeline. “It’s not over, Luke.”

  “Fuck!” Apparently, his patience was growing thin. He scooped her in his arms and marched to the couch, sitting with her on his lap. The light of the lamp dispelled the darkness as he flipped the switch. “Talk to me, sunshine. What’s not over?”

  A sob shook her, but she pulled herself up straight and looked him in the eye. “Whoever tried to kill us isn’t finished yet. I know it sounds crazy, but I can feel him—I can sense his sick, twisted desire to kill us—even Jen, if he finds her here.” She tried to jump from his lap, but Luke tightened his arms and wouldn’t let her go. “Luke, we have to get Jen out of here.” Hysteria was a breath away, but she had to hold it together or he wouldn’t take her seriously.

  The expression on Luke’s face hadn’t exactly screamed we need a straitjacket over here, but clearly he was biting his tongue to keep from saying something that would make the crazy lady go off. Sally didn’t blame him.

  “Babe, Jen’s safe here with us. We’ll make sure she stays that way.” He stroked her bare arms as though she were a child scared of the boogeyman. Well, one of those is true.

  She jerked away from him and gained her feet.

  * * * *

  Luke stared into the panic-filled blue eyes above him. His gaze took in her heaving chest, her determined stance and her hands fisted at her sides. What the hell had put her in fight mode? “Sally, let’s talk about this—” He reached for her only to have her slap at his hand.

  “Luke, I’m getting Jen as far away from me as I can. This madman, whoever he is, will kill her too if she’s here with us.” She stopped and shook her head, confusion etched on her face for a split second. “You can either help me or stay out of my way.” She whirled and started for the bedroom.

  He rose, ignoring the twinge in his back objecting to his quick movement, and reached her in two strides. Careful not to touch her, he placed his body in her path. As he towered over her, her hands plopped onto her hips and she stared at him with a did-you-have-something-to-say lift of her brow. She was so damn gorgeous when she got all riled up. Too bad he had no idea what had caused her strange mood.

  “You know I’ll help, sunshine. If you want Jen away from us, I’ll call Garrett and ask him to come get her. We’ll see if Ellen and Bridgett want to go with them.”

  “Yes, yes! That’s a good idea. They’ll be safe at the lodge with Garrett and Jonathan.” She moved as though she would go around him.

  He held his arm out to stop her. “Tomorrow,” he said firmly.

  She shook her head and opened her mouth, clearly to argue the point.

  Luke put his fingers to her lips to stay her words. “Tomorrow will be soon enough, Sally.” He turned her away from the bedroom. “Come and sit with me. Tell me why you can’t sleep. Is your leg hurting?”

  She was calmer now. Apparently, making the decision to send Jen away from them had been enough to forestall her hysteria. Where had it come from? Was it simply a feeling? Or something more? He’d come back to his many questions about her prediction later, when she wasn’t so agitated. He’d learned over the past year not to discount his, or anyone else’s, gut instinct.

  “No, it’s fine. You and Matt should stop worrying.”

  “Not going to happen. MacGyver’s always concerned about infection because we saw so much of that overseas. A person can lose a limb in a couple of days if it’s not taken care of properly. As for me? I’m going to worry about you—get used to it.” He settled her beside him on the couch. “So…what is keeping you awake?”

  She dropped her gaze, her cheeks flushing to a pretty pink. “Aside from strange premonitions? It’s been quite a day. My mind won’t shut off. Luke, how do you think my father found us?”

  Luke had asked himself that question more than once and had never come up with a satisfactory answer. “A retired Russian spy probably still has a few resources at his disposal. There’s always someone willing to take a bribe in exchange for information. Even someone inside the US Marshals Service.”

  Sally frowned. “He could have found out the marshal was coming for me and had him followed.”

  Luke issued a noncommittal grunt. Apparently, they’d never agree on the integrity of Marshal Lambert. At least she’d recovered from her panic attack enough to mention the incident, and although Luke was tempted to ply her with questions, he’d let it go for now. He shifted until his legs stretched lengthwise on the couch, his shoulders wedged between the arm and the back cushions. Then he pulled Sally on top of him, her breasts plumping against his chest and her hips resting between his legs. “I should have been payi
ng more attention. I promised you he wouldn’t sneak up on us.” All the more reason Luke should take heed of her warning. His right hand splayed across one cheek of her ass, pulling her tighter against him, awakening desire once again. Hell, he couldn’t get enough of her.

  One index finger touched his mouth softly. “Shh…you were distracted.” Her smile was reflected in her eyes until she stretched toward him and touched his lips with hers.

  “True that,” he whispered as she pulled back. Fisting his free hand in her long, wavy tresses, he held her head in place while he plundered those soft, sweet lips at his leisure.

  Luke awoke to bright sunlight invading the room through open blinds, his body melded together with Sally’s on the couch. He groaned at the stiffness of his back, although it wasn’t nearly as stiff as a body part that resided below his waist. Sally opened her eyes, kissed his jaw with a smile and slowly unfolded her legs as she started to slide off the couch. At the last second, Luke tightened his arms around her and kept her from leaving.

  “Um…hard-on alert. Why don’t you grab me a pillow before Jen pops out here unexpectedly?” This kid-in-the-house thing was a killer—one he’d happily get used to.

  She grinned but quickly wiped it away and stretched again. “Hmmm…sounds like a personal problem.”

  He cocked one eyebrow and moved his hips in a circular motion as he ground his thick and hard arousal against her. “It could be our problem easily enough.” His lips teased her throat and the tops of her breasts while his hands dove beneath the waistband of her pajama bottoms to cup her butt cheeks and squeezed. A squeal escaped her for a fraction of a second before he covered her mouth with his. Her nipples pebbled against his chest through her silky top.

  She broke the kiss, a flush highlighting her cheekbones. “Okay. I see your point.”