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Tall, Dark and Dangerous Part 1

Page 100

by Suzanne Brockmann


  Pain knifed through her, real pain, the same pain she’d dreamed. She gasped, turning to reach for the lamp on her bedside table. She switched it on, and with shock realized that her hands had left behind a smear of blood.

  She was bleeding.

  She pulled back the covers to see that her nightgown and the sheets below were stained bright red.

  Brittany was still at work. She wouldn’t be home until after seven.

  Pain made the room spin.

  “Jones!”

  But Jones wasn’t there to help her, either. Melody didn’t know where Jones was. He’d called and left a message on the machine over two weeks ago. She’d tried to call him back, but was told he was unavailable and would remain that way for an undetermined amount of time.

  He was out of touch on some mission, risking his life doing God knows what. She’d spent the past two weeks scared to death and kicking herself for not being honest with him. She should have told him that she loved him while she had the chance.

  Please, God, keep him safe. Every time Melody thought about him, she said that silent prayer.

  The pain gripped her again, and she cried out. God, what was happening? This wasn’t labor. She wasn’t supposed to bleed when she went into labor….

  Her door was pushed open. “Mel?”

  Brittany. Thank God, she’d gotten home from work early.

  “Oh, dear Lord!” Brittany saw the blood on the sheets. She picked up the phone, dialed 911, smoothed back Melody’s hair, feeling her forehead, checking her eyes. “Sweetie, when did the bleeding start?”

  “I don’t know. I was sleeping…God!” The pain made her see stars. “Britt, the baby! What’s happening with the baby?”

  But Brittany spoke into the phone, rattling off their address. “We need an ambulance here stat. I’ve got a twenty-five-year-old woman in the ninth month of her first pregnancy, experiencing severe abdominal pain and hemorrhaging.”

  Melody closed her eyes. Please, God, keep both Jones and her baby safe and alive…

  “Yes, I’m a nurse,” Brittany responded. “I suspect placental abruption. We’ll need fetal monitors and an ultrasound ready and waiting at the hospital. Yes. I’ll have the door open. Just get here!”

  “Jones, you better get down here.” Harvard’s voice sounded tight and grim over the telephone line. “There’s a stack of messages for you that’s four inches high.”

  Cowboy’s heart leaped. “From Melody?”

  “Junior, just get down here.”

  Fear flickered inside him. “H., what’s the deal? Is Mel all right? Did she have the baby?”

  “I don’t know for sure. It looks as if the first few messages are from Melody, but the rest…Jones, Mel’s sister has been calling nearly every hour for the past two days. I recommend you get down here and call her back ASAP. She’s left a number at the hospital.”

  A number at the hospital. Cowboy didn’t even say goodbye. He hung up the phone and ran.

  The temporary barracks he was sharing with the other unmarried members of the team were a good half mile from the leaky-roofed Quonset hut that housed Alpha Squad’s office. Cowboy was still wearing his clunky leather boots and his heavy camouflage gear, but he covered the distance in a small handful of minutes.

  As he burst through the door, Harvard handed him both the pile of messages and a telephone. The sheer number of message slips was enough to terrify him. Brittany had, literally, called every hour on the hour since early Monday morning.

  Cowboy’s hands were shaking so badly, he had to dial the number twice. Harvard had backed away, giving him privacy. He sat down at the desk, shuffling through the pile of messages as, up in the County Hospital in Appleton, Massachusetts, the phone was ringing.

  “Hello?”

  It was Brittany’s voice. She sounded hoarse and worn-out.

  “Britt, it’s Jones.”

  “Thank God.”

  “Please tell me she’s safe.” Cowboy closed his eyes.

  “She’s safe.” Brittany’s voice broke. “For now. Jones, you’ve got to come up here and talk her into having a C-section. I think one of the reasons she’s refusing to do it is because she promised you that you could be here when the baby was born.”

  “But she’s not due for another two and a half weeks.”

  “She had a partial placental abruption,” Brittany told him. “That’s when the placenta becomes partially separated from the uterus—”

  “I know what it is,” he said, cutting her off. “Did she hemorrhage?”

  “Yes. Early Monday morning. It wasn’t as bad as I first thought, though. She was taken by ambulance to the hospital and her doctor managed to get her stabilized. Both she and the baby are being monitored. If there’s the slightest change in either of their conditions, they’re going to have to do a C-Section. She knows that. But right now, the doctor has told her that the baby’s in no real danger, and she’s determined to hold on as long as possible.”

  Cowboy drew in a deep breath. “May I talk to her?”

  “She’s sleeping right now. Please, Lieutenant, I don’t think she’s going to agree to have this baby until you get up here. But if she starts hemorrhaging again, there’s no guarantee that this time they’ll be able to get her to stop. They’ll be able to save the baby, but they’ll lose the mother.”

  Cowboy looked down at the phone messages in his hand. There were four from Melody, all dated close to the day he’d left for South America. The first three were just notices that said she’d called. The last actually had a message. It was written in quotes, and the receptionist who answered the phone had put a smiley face next to the words, “I love you.”

  Cowboy stood up. “Tell her our deal’s off,” he told Britanny. “Tell her not to wait for me to have the baby. Tell her I’ll be mad as hell if I get up there and that baby’s not hanging out in the hospital nursery. Tell her I’m on my way.”

  He hung up the phone, and Harvard silently appeared. The senior chief handed him papers signed by the captain, granting him as much personal emergency leave as he needed.

  “There’s an air force transport heading up to Boston in twenty minutes,” Harvard told him. “I’ve called in some favors from some people I know—they’re holding the flight for you. Bobby’s out front with a jeep to drive you to the airfield.”

  Cowboy held up the message that Melody had left. “She loves me, H.”

  “This is news to you, Junior?” Harvard laughed. “Damn, I knew that last March, in the Middle East.” He followed Cowboy to the door. “Godspeed, Jones. My prayers are with you.”

  Cowboy swung himself up and into the jeep, and with a squeal of tires, he was away.

  “She was given an amniocentesis so we could assess the baby’s lung development.” Brittany was talking in a whisper as she came into the room. Melody kept her eyes closed. “All of the tests have indicated that this baby is ready for delivery. His estimated weight clocked in at over eight pounds. But Melody insists that unless the baby is in danger, she’s not going to deliver him any earlier than December 1st. You’ve got to convince her that her stubbornness is putting her life in danger.”

  “The worst part about being in the hospital is that everybody always talks about you as if you weren’t in the room.” Melody opened her eyes, expecting to glare up at her sister and some new doctor she’d enlisted.

  Instead, she found herself looking directly at Harlan Jones. He was wearing camouflage pants and a matching shirt, and he looked as if he’d come directly from the jungle.

  “Hey,” he said, smiling at her, “heard you’ve been raising a little too much hell around here.”

  She recognized that smile he was giving her. It was his “I’m going to pretend everything’s all right” smile. In truth, he was scared to death.

  “I’m fine,” she told him. As she watched, Brittany quietly left the room.

  He sat down next to her. “That’s not what I hear.”

  She forced a smile of her own. �
��Yeah, well, you’ve been talking to Nurse Doom.”

  He laughed. She realized he was carrying a clipboard in his hands, and he held it out to her now. “Sign these forms,” he told her. “Have the C-section. It’s time to stop playing games with your life.”

  Melody lifted her chin. “You think that’s what this is? Some game? Everything I’ve ever read stressed the importance of carrying a baby to term. Or at least carrying for as long as possible. The baby’s not in danger. I’m not in danger. I see no reason to do this.”

  Jones took her hand. “Do this now because until this baby is born, there is a risk that you will bleed to death,” he said. “Do this because although the chances of that happening are very slim, so were the chances of your having a placental separation in the first place. You don’t have high blood pressure. You aren’t a smoker. There’s no real reason why this should have happened. Do this because if you die, a very large part of me will die, too. Do this because I love you.”

  Melody was caught in the hypnotizing intensity of his gaze. “I guess you got my message.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “But you only got part of mine. I had literally ten seconds before I had to leave and I blew it. What I meant to say on your answering machine was that I want you to marry me, not for the baby’s sake, but for my sake. Purely selfish reasons, Mel. Like, because I love you and I want to spend my life with you.”

  He cleared his throat. “And I was going to tell you that I knew there was a part of you that could love me, and that I was going to keep coming back to Appleton, that I was going to court you until you did fall in love with me. I was going to tell you that I wasn’t going to quit, and that sooner or later, I’d wear you down—even if you only married me to shut me up.” He handed her the clipboard. “So sign these release forms, have this baby and marry me.”

  Melody’s heart was in her throat. “Do you really understand what you’re asking me to do?”

  He looked out the window at the dreary late-afternoon light. “Yeah,” he said, “I do. I’m asking you to leave your home and come live with me near naval bases, moving around God only knows how many times in the course of a year. I’m asking you to give up your job, and your garden, and your sister and Andy, just to be with me, even though some of the time—hell, most of the time—I’ll be gone. It’s a bad deal. I don’t recommend you take it. But at the same time, honey, I’m praying that you’ll say yes.”

  Melody looked at the man sitting beside her bed. His hair was long and dirty, as if he hadn’t showered in days. He smelled of gasoline and sweat and sunblock. He looked spent, as if he’d run all the way from Virginia just to be here with her.

  “Trust me,” he whispered, leaning close to kiss her softly. “Trust me with your heart. I’ll keep it safe, I swear.”

  Mel closed her eyes and kissed him. Harlan Jones wasn’t the average, run-of-the-mill, home-every-day-at-five-thirty type she would have chosen if the choice could be made with pure intellect. But love wasn’t rational. Love didn’t stick to a plan. And truth was, she loved him. She had to take the chance.

  “You are going to get so sick of me telling you to be careful,” she whispered.

  “No, I’m not.”

  Melody signed the medical procedure consent forms. “Do you think Harvard would agree to be our best man?”

  Jones took the clipboard from her hands. “I want to hear you say yes.”

  She gazed up at him. “Yes. I love you,” she told him.

  Tears filled his eyes, but his smile was pure Jones as he leaned forward and kissed her.

  Epilogue

  Melody Jones sat in her new backyard, watching her neighbors, her friends and her new family gather to celebrate her wedding.

  It was only February, but the South was having a mild winter, and the daffodils in her garden were already in bloom.

  The growing season in Virginia was at least three months longer than in Massachusetts. She loved that. She loved everything about her new life. She loved this little rented house outside the naval base where Alpha Squad was temporarily stationed. She loved waking up each morning with Jones in her bed. She loved holding their son, Tyler, in her arms as she rocked him to sleep. She even loved the late-night feedings.

  Brittany sat down next to her. “The papers came through,” she said. “Day before yesterday. Andy’s my kid now.” She laughed. “God help me.”

  Melody embraced her sister. “I’m so happy for you.”

  “And I’m so happy for you.” Brittany laughed again. “I’m not sure I’ve ever been to a party before with so many incredible-looking men. And all those dress uniforms! I nearly fainted when I went into the church. I suppose you get used to it.”

  Melody grinned. “No,” she said, “you don’t.”

  Across the yard, Jones had Tyler on one shoulder. He swayed slightly to keep the baby happy as he stood talking to Harvard and his father, the admiral. As Melody watched, he laughed at something Harvard said and the baby started. Jones gently kissed the baby’s head, soothing him back to sleep.

  As Melody looked around her yard, she realized that Brittany was right. Nearly all of the men there were SEALs, and they were, indeed, an unusual-looking group.

  Jones looked across the yard and met her eyes. The smile he gave her made her heart somersault in her chest. It was his “I love you” smile—the smile he saved for her and her alone. She smiled back at him, knowing he could read her love for him as clearly in her eyes.

  Despite her best intentions, she had gone and married the least everyday, ordinary, average man that she’d ever known. No indeed, there was absolutely nothing normal about a man called “Cowboy” Jones. He was one hundred percent out of the ordinary—and so was his incredible love for her.

  And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-0497-7

  Copyright © 2007 Harlequin Books S.A.

  The publisher acknowledges the copyright holders of the individual works as follows:

  Prince Joe

  Copyright © 1996 by Suzanne Brockmann

  Forever Blue

  Copyright © 1996 by Suzanne Brockmann

  Frisco’s Kid

  Copyright © 1997 by Suzanne Brockmann

  Everyday, Average Jones

  Copyright © 1998 by Suzanne Brockmann

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

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