The SEAL's Stolen Child

by Laura Marie Altom

  After two miscarriages, her failed marriage didn’t even come as a surprise, but more a foregone conclusion.

  “Water ready, Miss Eve.” Juanita beamed. “You take nice, long soak, then I bring you dinner in bed and you watch funny shows on the television. Mr. Garrett he watch, too.”

  Bless her heart. Juanita wanted only the best for Eve—a grown woman she still viewed as her little-girl charge. But how did Eve politely make her understand no amount of bubble baths or butter and gravy-laden comfort meals or even Garrett’s surprisingly good company would fix the gnawing ache in her heart?

  Regret consumed her. Sorrow for the way she’d destroyed the magic she and Garrett once shared. She should’ve called him from Rose’s. Later from prep school. Later still from college.

  But what could she have possibly said to make up for how much pain she’d already caused? Not only had she left him, but back then, she’d believed herself responsible for the death of their son.

  * * *

  “THANK YOU FOR AGREEING to meet here.” When Eve stood behind her office desk, extending her hand for Garrett to shake, he fought an irrational pang of annoyance. They’d already been through so much. The fact that she saw him only worthy of a handshake put him on edge. But then realistically, what did he want from her? Despite their current shared quest, they were virtual strangers. He hadn’t seen her in well over eight years. “I’ve had all of Dad’s files couriered over. Thought it might be more comfortable having an actual table to work on, rather than his office floor.”

  “Agreed.” Her smile unraveled him. He saw past her all-business, polished exterior to the free spirit she’d once been. He saw her cheering him from the sidelines at his football games, her hair swept into a high, messy ponytail, her smile urging him to a greatness he’d never wanted more. In her, he’d found all things possible. No dream too big. No matter how much he knew a reunion with her would only inevitably lead to more pain, he craved that young woman he’d fallen for all those years ago.

  Hours passed during which little conversation combined with zero clues as to where Hal might’ve hidden their son only raised Garrett’s level of frustration.

  Slapping his latest dead-end lead alongside the sandwich he’d ordered for lunch hours ago, Garrett sighed. “Riddle me this—if your dad sold our son, seems like he’d have kept some financial trail. I mean, we’ve found receipts dating back to the seventies for shoes. Only makes sense he’d have somehow documented a transaction involving the sale of his own grandchild.”

  “You’re right.” Pushing aside the chicken-salad sandwich she’d barely taken two bites of, she covered her face with her hands. Outside, the gloomy day had faded to night. Rain pelted the windows. The air drifting through the few that were open smelled heavy and dank. How many times on nights just like this had he held her on the overstuffed sofa in the mansion’s movie room? “But on the flip side, what if you’re not? What if Daddy just gave our child away?”

  “That’d be risky, too.” A bread crumb clung to her lower lip. What was wrong with him that when he should’ve been solely focused on the task at hand, he was consumed by wondering if kissing that crumb away would be half as satisfying as he imagined? Striving to get back on track, he said, “If he did give our son away, it would have to have been to someone he knew well. Do you have any family members who may not have been able to have children of their own?”

  Hands to her forehead, she groaned. “None that jump out, but I like where you’re going with this. If there’s one thing this search has taught me, it’s that Daddy wasn’t the paragon of perfection I believed him to be. This illegal-immigrant issue brought to my attention at his funeral of all places has become a logistical nightmare. Many of those workers are good people. Instead of helping them forge documents, why couldn’t he have put our resources behind obtaining legitimate documentation?”

  “More questions.” Garrett bit into his sandwich. “I’m sick of them.”

  “Want to get out of here? Grab a drink?”

  “Whoa…” Cracking a half smile, Garrett couldn’t resist teasing, “I wasn’t aware perfect princesses ever imbibed—let alone with the likes of me.”

  Her glare wasn’t entirely devoid of warmth. “Before you read too much into my offer, my only other option is returning home to Juanita, who’s on a mission to fatten me up and marry me off.”

  Gathering his trash, Garrett asked, “Who’s the lucky groom?”

  “You.”

  He coughed on the last swig of his Coke. “And here I thought Juanita and I had a thing.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking—” she gathered her coat and hit the switch on the office lights “—why hasn’t some girl snagged you a long time ago?”

  “Snagged me?” Trailing behind her toward the elevator, enjoying the view of her well-rounded derriere in a hip-hugging black skirt, Garrett couldn’t help but laugh. Her legs went on for miles and her heels only increased his pent-up physical frustration. Damn, she was sexy. “I haven’t been caught, because I don’t want to be. You taught me early on women are fun in small doses, but that’s as close as I care to be.”

  “Any day now, you can quit blaming me for what happened, Garrett.” She pressed the elevator’s down button.

  “I never blamed you for getting pregnant.” He followed her into the elevator car, punching the lobby L. “Silent Night” played over the intercom speaker. It was annoying as hell. Reminded him Christmas was only weeks away and he was as far from feeling in the holiday spirit as it was possible to get. “If anything, I was secretly psyched. You having my baby meant we pretty much had to get married. We’d get a small house and buy our own dishes and silverware and stuff. We might not have been able to afford a TV, but we could’ve lounged on a lumpy mattress, staring at your tummy to watch the baby kick. I loved you, Eve. You meant everything to me.”

  “We were kids.” With the elevator still not moving, she punched the L button again and again. “You weren’t even smart enough to realize on our own with a baby that world of yours would’ve eaten us alive. I mean, so far your fantasy has us in a house with a lumpy mattress, dishes and silverware, but no food. You couldn’t even get a factory job without your high-school diploma, but how would you have finished school, working full-time to support me?” The car finally lurched downward. “I’m sorry, but you’ve spun this fantasy for us that never stood a chance of surviving.”

  Why did she do it? Just when he thought they might have the slimmest chance at reconnecting, she blew it all to hell.

  Chapter Six

  “Good, you’re home.”

  Garrett entered his mom’s home to find her struggling to assemble her fake Christmas tree. Back when his dad had been alive, they’d always had a live tree. Now she was on a save-the-world kick and believed her efforts in rescuing one fir tree would make all the difference. “Silent Night” still dogged him, only this time in a reggae version playing on the stereo.

  “I can’t carry the ladder in by myself and I baked two new cookie recipes I need you to sample before I take them to my bridge-night cookie swap.”

  Garrett fell into his dad’s old recliner with a groan.

  “You’re tired. I’ll bring you the cookies, then, once you’re rested, you can get the ladder.”

  Why hadn’t he gone for a drink with Eve?

  Oh, yeah, because she’d royally ticked him off.

  Pushing up from the comfortable chair he’d planned on spending his night in, h
e felt more mentally drained and bone-weary exhausted than he had after any SEAL mission.

  In the kitchen, he pulled out a stool at the counter. “I want to run something past you.”

  “Shoot.” She set a cookie plate in front of him, then hit the fridge for milk.

  “Last night, I told you my suspicions that Rose was a professional baby trader. But today, Eve and I tossed around a new theory that had nothing to do with Rose. What if old Hal really did have a heart and instead of selling our baby, he gave him away? Do you remember anyone in town suddenly appearing with an infant around that time?”

  Nibbling a frosted stocking-shaped cookie, she took a second to think about it. “No one immediately comes to mind. But the Barnesworths ran in a different social circle. Have you tried looking at local birth announcements posted around the time your son would’ve been born? It’s a long shot, but you never know.”

  “Good thinking. We’ll go that route tomorrow.” He pointed to the toffee-oatmeal cookies he’d sampled. “I like this one.”

  Nose wrinkled, she said, “It’s not very festive.”

  He waved off her concern. “They taste amazing. No need for anything fancy.”

  “Speaking of fancy…” She finished loading a plastic snowman tray with cookies, wrapping it in red cellophane. “How has it been working with the always-elegant Eve?”

  Where did he start? Frustrating. Exhilarating. Confusing as hell. Garrett’s mind told him he’d already blown it once with the woman. Last thing he needed was getting messed up with her again. His SEAL friend Deacon was one of the lucky ones who’d managed to merge a happy home life with their often ridiculously demanding job. The few times Garrett had even tried getting serious with a woman, either she’d nagged him endlessly about not having enough time for her, or cheated on him. In the end, it was easier being alone.

  “That good being back with her, huh?”

  “Sorry…” Garrett shook his head. “Got lost in thought. Eve is proving impossible to read.” Making matters worse was the fact that the more time Garrett spent with her, the more he craved. He knew that was stupid, but what was he supposed to do about it? He sure couldn’t hash it out with his mom.

  “She’s been through so much.” Dina took a fresh batch of oatmeal cookies from the oven. The spicy, cinnamon scent made his stomach growl. “Give her more time, and I’m sure she’ll come around. You two will be right back where you used to be.”

  “You think that’s such a wise idea? Hooking up all over again? We live in separate worlds.”

  She winked. “Unless your next mission is to Mars, your worlds are fine. Your individual stubborn streaks are another story....” She winked again. “Invite the poor girl over for caroling. She’ll get a kick out of it.”

  He snorted. “Right. More likely, she’ll kick me.”

  * * *

  “THIS WAS A GREAT IDEA.” Eve was trying hard to cover the awkwardness she felt from practically sitting on Garrett’s lap. They searched the Coral Ridge Gazette’s ancient microfiche system that’d been set up in a lonely corner of a warehouse holding back editions. The space was so narrow, two chairs barely fit, and with Eve’s thigh pressed against Garrett’s—not to mention her shoulder and forearm brushing his—concentrating was growing tougher by the minute. “I’m sure anyone who welcomed a new baby into their home would be excited and want to publicly share their blessing.”

  “Unless they were also scared to be found out. I can see no questions being asked back in, say, the twenties, but, Eve, this isn’t that long ago.”

  “But how do you hide a baby? You’d have to get a birth certificate, social-security card and immunizations. I suppose you could put off all of that until school, but eventually—unless these people are hiding our child in their basement—they had to have welcomed him in society in some way.”

  He stared at her, cocking his head before taking something from her hair. Brandishing a dust bunny, he said, “Once we get out of here, figured this might tarnish your perfect image.”

  Head bowed, she asked, “Is that how you think of me? As an unapproachable ice queen?”

  “More like an unapproachable ice princess,” he admitted with a half laugh. “You have to be at least fifty to be a queen. And anyway, do you even own a pair of sweats or a T-shirt?”

  “Okay, first, that was a mean thing to say. Second, of course I own lots of stupid T-shirts.” Only she didn’t make a habit of wearing them in front of people unless she felt comfortable. She used to feel that way about Garrett. With her dad out of town and Juanita busy cooking dinner, they used to lounge in her room, wearing nothing but their birthday suits. The memory of his bare skin brushing hers made her cheeks glow. She tried scooting her chair away, but had no luck.

  “Sorry. But seriously, when’s the last time you wore a T-shirt?”

  “Give it a rest.” They’d both leaned in toward the screen. His radiant heat had nothing on the sweet scent of the lemonade they’d had for lunch still flavoring his breath. If I kissed you, would you kiss me back? Argh. What was wrong with her? Clearly, all this heat she couldn’t escape and most especially her racing pulse were signs she was coming down with a nasty bug. “We still have at least twenty editions to go through.”

  “Just answer me. If I bought you a T-shirt, would you wear it?”

  “Why does it matter?” She turned the microfiche reader to the next page. “You’re acting crazy.”

  “More like bored. My gut feeling is this is a dead end.”

  Facing him, she asked, “Then why are we here?”

  “Got any better ideas for what we should be doing?”

  Heat again rose in her cheeks. Why did her mind keep running to the gutter? Why was she suddenly consumed with thoughts of what they might be like together again now that they both knew what they were doing? Back in high school, they’d been each other’s firsts. Laughing through those awkward initial attempts at what eventually came more naturally than breathing. They’d slipped off to a secret garden on the grounds of the Barnesworth estate. There, they’d been all alone and beauty reigned. Beauty of innocence lost and rediscovered. Beauty of first love. Beauty of exploration and learning each other’s every nuance. Of the few lovers Eve had had—including her ex-husband—Garrett had been the best. Or was that just her memory putting him on a pedestal where he had no right to be?

  “We could divide and conquer,” he suggested, already out of his chair. “I’ll head to the courthouse and check out birth certificates.”

  Nodding, she struggled to focus on the screen in front of her, rather than sneaking a peak at Garrett’s strong profile. At only three in the afternoon, he sported whisker growth. He was all rugged man—such an oddity in her social circle. Just one more reason why the two of them as a couple would never work.

  With him no longer beside her, unexpected loneliness set in.

  From the door, he asked, “Want to meet up later to compare notes?”

  “Sure.” But only if she squelched the giddy excitement that usually stemmed from seeing him again. “Name the time and place.”

  “I can always use a good burger. How about Schmitty’s? Say seven?”

  “Perfect.” Though she’d never even considered going to the dive bar way on the wrong side of town, she wouldn’t tell him that. Truthfully, she hadn’t had many burgers, either. But just one wouldn’t kill her.

  Sitting next to Garrett, on the other hand? That just might.

  * * *


  “YOU’RE TAKING THIS WAY too seriously.” Fluffing her red curls in Eve’s bedroom vanity mirror, Darcie blew kisses at her reflection. Her mom had taken Leo for the night and in a little over an hour, she had a hot date with Chad from Accounting.

  From her closet, Eve shouted, “He called me an unapproachable ice princess! Damn him, I’m a nice person!” Eve shouldn’t have cared what Garrett thought of her, but his assessment stung—more so since her ex had pretty much said the same.

  “Honey, no one said you’re not nice.” Darcie now tried on diamond and pearl bracelets. “Just sometimes you can be stiff. You know, formal—like you’re not really one of us little people.”

  “Of course I am.” She held out an emerald-green Gucci asymmetrical jersey dress. “How about this? The bare shoulder screams fun.”

  Darcie rolled her eyes. “If you’re attending a garden party with the governor.”

  “If you’re so smart about fashion—” Eve gestured her into the closet “—then you figure out what I’m supposed to wear.”

  Twenty minutes later, Darcie sat on the tufted bench in the shoe area’s center. “I thought you were lying, but you truly don’t own a pair of jeans—and your velour sweats don’t count.”

  “So what am I supposed to do? I pride myself on knowing just what to wear to any occasion, but this…” Joining her friend on the bench, Eve rested her elbows on her knees and chin in her hands.

  “Perhaps the more important question is why you care. I thought you and Garrett as a couple were waaay in the past?”

  “We are.” Fingering her pearls, Eve wasn’t sure how to explain why this night with Garrett meant so much. In part, because she didn’t understand herself. These past few days with him had shown a chink in her armor she hadn’t even been aware had been missing—how much she craved the simple pleasure of being around someone to lean on. Sure, in a pinch, Darcie or Juanita were always there, but something about the way Garrett had held her at Rose’s struck an old familiar chord. “It’s just that he’s been great through this search. I wouldn’t blame him if he was furious with me, but he’s been remarkably kind.” Eve’s pulse raced remembering him literally carrying her from that awful scene at her father’s funeral. The way he’d driven in circles through Rose’s town to find a grocery for Eve to buy cat food. When it’d been apparent Rose’s outward show of poverty was a front, he hadn’t even put in a dig by commenting how mushy she’d been in the face of possibly starving kittens.