A Soldier's Secret

by Linda Style

  It didn’t seem like something he’d be able to do, but she was probably right. “Before the first day of school I felt like I was ‘the man.’ I felt big and important and like I should be showing how brave I was. But when I got there, I was scared spitless, and my knees were knocking so hard I thought the whole planet could hear.”

  Natalia nodded and snickered, and once he started talking about it, he got on a roll. Only he gave the condensed version, especially the part where his dad died. Mac skipped over the segments about missing out on after-school sports because he had to work or babysit his sisters to help out while their mom worked. He talked mostly about going to Northern Arizona University and then the military, being injured during his second tour and not knowing what he was going to do when he got home. He didn’t mention his occasional nightmares about Iraq, and he didn’t mention digging Natalia out of the bombed-out building or being there during her recovery.

  He stopped talking. She knew all the rest.

  And then the doorbell rang.

  NATALIA FOLLOWED MAC and stood next to him as he opened the door. Mrs. Sharpton was on the veranda, notebook in hand.

  “C’mon in,” he said, after she introduced herself as a social worker with the Arizona Department of Child Protective Services. He directed her through the foyer and into the living room, and motioned toward the couch. “Please, have a seat.”

  The woman glanced about on her way there, and then chose to sit on Mac’s beat-up easy chair next to the sofa. Mac took Natalia’s hand and drew her down on the couch next to him.

  “I, uh, we just moved in here recently and haven’t bought much furniture yet.” He glanced at Natalia. “And my wife says I have to leave the decorating to her.”

  She squeezed his hand, signaling him to cut the nervous chatter. He got the message and they sat quietly shoulder to shoulder, waiting for the woman to speak. But she just kept flipping pages in her notebook.

  When she finally looked up, she said, “People are usually nervous about all this, so I just let everyone know right away that I’m here to assess how well I think the child—” she looked at her notes again “—how well David will adapt to this environment. It’s simply part of the court proceedings to determine guardianship. I’m not here to judge you.”

  Natalia chewed on her bottom lip. Who was the social worker kidding? That’s exactly what she was here for—it was the reason she’d talked to Serena and God knew how many other people. The whole thing was a judging process, otherwise Mac could simply prove his DNA, claim his son and be done with it. But since the great-aunt also wanted guardianship, Mac had to prove himself. The whole thing was ridiculous, but Natalia bit her tongue to keep from saying something she’d regret.

  “Our only concern is the child.”

  Mac nodded. “Ours, too.” He put his arm around Natalia. She took his cue and settled in against him, and though she was acting the part, it felt comfortable and natural. She tried to focus on the woman and not the hundred-seventy pound, six feet two inches of pure masculine energy radiating heat next to her.

  This was Mac. Her best friend. She had to keep that in the forefront of her mind and not let her body betray her.

  “I don’t like to start off with a list of questions,” the woman said, “so why don’t you show me your home, and in particular, where David will be sleeping.”

  “Sure,” Mac said, then got up and held out a hand for Natalia.

  She wasn’t used to all the chivalry, and couldn’t help wondering if he was that polite with all the women he dated. He let her lead the way, so she went directly to David’s room, while trying to remember if she’d left anything out in the guest room.

  “Very nice,” Mrs. Sharpton said as she walked in.

  “We didn’t finish hanging things because we thought it would be good to let David help with the decorating,” Mac said. “Make him feel more a part of it.” He winked at Natalia.

  The woman nodded. “I hope he likes baseball.”

  “That’s exactly what my wife said.” Mac laughed. “If he wants something different, we can easily change it.”

  “I take it these things are mementos from your own childhood?”

  “I confess,” Mac said. “I loved baseball as a kid, and I still do. It’s the great American sport, isn’t it?”

  “I guess we all like to keep our young hearts alive,” she said softly. Then, fingering one of the baseballs on the shelf, she asked, “Are you a keeper of nostalgia as well, Mrs. MacAllister?”

  For a second, Natalia didn’t realize the woman was talking to her. “Oh, no. Not me.” Then, realizing that might not sound good, she added, “I mean, not as much as Mac.”

  “She is, but she just doesn’t like to admit it,” Mac interjected. “She has this little stuffed bear from when she moved to the U.S.”

  Natalia felt her cheeks warm. “Okay, I admit I do have a few things. A small stamp colle—”

  “You’re an immigrant?” Sharpton swung around to look at her.

  Natalia’s backbone went ramrod straight. She’d never been called that before. But more than once she’d felt a personal sting when politicians kept coming up with all their cures for the immigration problems, cures that seemed to include everyone who’d ever come to the U.S., legally or illegally.

  Mac put an arm around her and pulled her to his side. “Natalia’s a naturalized American citizen,” he said. “Just as David will be.”

  Unable to keep her mouth shut any longer, Natalia said, “I came to the U.S. when I was six, so I think I’ll be able to relate well to anything David might be going through as a result of his move.” Smiling, she looked directly at the woman and added, “I think that’s a very good thing, don’t you?”

  The social worker’s eyes widened in surprise—perhaps because Natalia had voiced an opinion? Then she opened her notebook. “Mr. MacAllister mentioned you just got married, so naturally, there isn’t any information about you in my file. It would’ve been helpful if I’d had that before I came.”

  “We were engaged when I filled out the papers,” Mac said. “Natalia is completing and signing all the necessary paperwork on Monday in Phoenix.”

  “Good.” Mrs. Sharpton turned. “This is a lovely boy’s room, and I’d like to see the rest of the house.”

  “Okay.” Mac waved toward the door. “Follow me.”

  He took them through the house and then into the yard, where he’d started building a tree house. Mrs. Sharpton asked questions, but didn’t display any overt signs, positive or negative, to indicate what she was thinking or feeling about their answers, or anything else, for that matter.

  But while she was touring the place, Natalia felt the woman’s assessing eyes upon her. A couple times, Natalia took it upon herself to hold on to Mac’s arm or touch him endearingly. He did the same. She felt very positive by the time they walked the woman to the door.

  “Thank you so much,” Mrs. Sharpton said when leaving. “I’ll be filing my report in a couple of days, and then it’s out of my hands. I imagine you’ll hear from your attorney on everything else after that.” Then she wished them good luck.

  When they shut the door, both of them sagged against it.

  “We nailed it,” Mac said, grinning as if he’d just pulled off a million-dollar bank heist.

  “I know.” She gave him a fist bump. “Damn, we were good!” Laughing and feeling ten feet tall, she turned, and Mac was right there, his face next to hers.

  In the next instant he reached out and picked her up, twirling her around and around. “Oh, man. I’m so relieved. And you were so perfect.”

  She threw her head back, laughing and hugging him in return, until tears suddenly came from nowhere. “Oh, Lord, I am so relieved, too,” she exclaimed, blinking back the wetness.

  Looking at her, Mac sobered, stopped twirling and set her down, her body sliding against his.

  Sniffling, she turned away. Geez. What was wrong with her?

  Mac kept looking at her. />
  She dotted the moisture from under her lashes with her fingertips. “You’re right,” she said. “It’s such a relief to have that over.”

  She was about to walk away when he placed a hand on her shoulder and lifted her chin. His eyes locked on hers.

  “You okay?” His voice was gentle.

  Her stomach churned. Her gaze slipped to his mouth and the perfectly defined V on his upper lip.

  “Just something in my eye,” she said. She blinked again. “But I think it’s gone.” She meant to be matter-of-fact, but her words came out throaty.

  His eyes grazed her face, and he reached up, gently brushed her cheek with his thumb.

  Her breath caught.

  He bent down ever so slightly, his face nearing hers, their eyes meeting.

  She felt herself move forward, as if drawn by some hypnotic force.

  His mouth hovered over hers, his warm, moist breath fanning her lips.

  “Right,” Mac said, his voice deep and sweet. “I think it’s gone.”

  IN HER ROOM TWO HOURS later, while getting dressed to meet with Tori and Serena to help with Serena and Cole’s wedding plans, Natalia couldn’t get Mac’s image—his mouth, so close to hers—out of her head. She cringed at the thought that he might’ve noticed her lean forward, as if expecting him to kiss her. Good grief. Why on earth had she thought he was going to do that?

  Why had she wanted him to?

  Maybe because she hadn’t been with anyone for a while—and maybe because they’d never spent so much time so close before. They worked together, had the same group of friends and talked about a lot of personal things, but they’d always kept a professional distance at work, and on the job. And at play, it was a purely platonic relationship.

  Somehow, their time together now was different. She’d never been so aware of him, never noticed the way his hair hung over his forehead after a shower, how the muscles in his body flexed when he wore just a T-shirt and sweatpants. That little V on his top lip. Just thinking about it made her pulse throb.

  It had to be the intimacy they’d had to fake that was making her act so stupidly. She’d gotten caught up in their so-called acting, and it all seemed so real.... As if they actually were a couple.

  Well, whatever it was, she had to stop it. Immediately.

  Her task was simply to be here—to be a fake wife until it was time for her to go. That’s all Mac wanted of her, all either of them wanted, and she was going to make sure she kept it that way.

  She picked out a black top to go with her jeans, and held it up in front of the mirror on the closet door. Black was not her favorite color, but she liked how it looked on her. She flipped the shirt around. The silver Celtic design stitched on the back certainly didn’t resemble any uniform she’d ever seen.

  She slipped it on, then found a silver chain and matching earrings. She hoped it was just the three of them tonight. Her, Serena and Tori, like old times.

  When she went downstairs, Mac was sitting in front of the fireplace reading a book, a bottle of beer next to him on the end table. His eyes seemed to brighten when she came into the room.

  “Hey, you look great.”

  Normally she’d give him some kind of sass, but for some reason her brain wasn’t producing any. She mumbled “Thanks,” then asked, “Aren’t you going out?”

  He shook his head. “It’s just me and my book on building tree houses tonight.”

  “On a Friday night?” Mac always had something going on a Friday night.

  “Yep. I do stay home sometimes.” He smiled. “It’s not a bad thing.”

  She shrugged. “To each his own.”

  “Actually, Cole called and wanted to hang out and play some pool at the Blue Moon. I may go down for a while later, but I want to double-check the things I need to do to get ready for D.J. I got the feeling from talking with Bennett tonight that things could move very quickly now, and I want to be prepared.”

  Again Natalia was tempted to offer her help, but shook off the urge. Her friend Tori always chided her that her penchant for helping people might get her into trouble one of these days, and in this case, she’d have to agree.

  “Well, if you need me for anything, you know where to find me.” She held up her cell.

  “Gotcha,” he said, then gave her a thumbs-up.

  TORI LED NATALIA AND Serena to a table at the Heartline Café in Sedona. Serena had thought it would be fun to start planning her wedding at the restaurant she was considering to cater their reception. Since Natalia was the go-to person to keep Serena from doing too much, she’d come prepared. One meeting was all they needed to get everything planned and scheduled.

  They’d get it done quickly and then she could go back home.

  Mac might be busy getting things ready, but she liked the idea of relaxing in front of the fire with a good book. It had been forever, it seemed, since she’d done that. She’d been worrying about too many things lately and the distraction of a good book sounded wonderful. A romantic suspense, maybe. All she had to do was press a button on her Kindle.

  “I can’t believe this,” Tori said, after Serena ordered an iced tea and Natalia ordered a diet Dr Pepper. “Here we are celebrating and I’m the only one drinking.”

  “I’m on duty in the morning,” Natalia said.

  “And I don’t want to taint my baby’s blood.” Serena lovingly patted her belly. She was joking, but the soft look in her eyes spoke volumes. This baby seemed almost symbolic for her, signifying a new beginning for her and Cole—and the family they were meant to have.

  “It still sucks,” Tori said.

  “True, but given the amount of time we have to get this wedding in shape, it’s probably a good idea that we all stay sober.” Natalia took out a legal pad and pencil. “I’ve made a to-do list of everything I could think of. We can add or subtract as necessary.”

  “You are très organized,” Tori said. “Much better than me, and I’m sooo glad you’re taking the reins.”

  Good. Tori was a fantastic businesswoman when it came to her art, but that’s where her organizational skills ended. The creative side of her brain would be best utilized on the decorating end of things. And that was also a good thing, since Natalia’s artistic skills were about those of a six-year-old, the age she’d been when her parents had decided she needed to focus on math and science. And when she wasn’t doing math and science, she’d had to practice the piano.

  “Too bad we couldn’t help with your wedding reception,” Tori said, smiling impishly at Natalia. “I can’t wait to see what Mac’s mother has cooked up.”

  Natalia gave her an evil look and pointed the pencil at her. “Better watch it. I know where you live.”

  “You have to admit, it is kind of funny,” Serena stated. “Both of us getting married and having parties within three weeks of each other.”

  “But mine isn’t a real marriage and the party is not something either Mac or I want.”

  “I know, but if it was real, it would be kinda cool.”

  “His mother does kind of take over, doesn’t she?” Tori said.

  “She does, and that means we can forget about it and get back to the reason we’re here.” Natalia flipped over a page on her legal tablet. “Out of all the locations we listed, are there any decisions on where the wedding will take place?”

  Serena’s mile-wide smile gave her the answer. “We just decided today. We want to make it easy, and since the weather is supposed to be nice for the next couple of weeks, we’re going to have both the wedding and the reception in the garden at Poca Morelia.”

  Poca Morelia was the new “Casa de Arte” that Tori and Linc had built to showcase Tori’s artwork. Not far from Tlaquepaque, another art gallery complex in Sedona, Poca Morelia was named after a small artisan community just outside of Guadalajara, Mexico, and the landscaping rivaled the Villa Cimbrone gardens in Italy, where Tori and Linc had honeymooned four years ago.

  With a plethora of outdoor art and sculptures commingl
ing with the lush desert flora, the gardens also featured a spectacular view, where at sunset the red rock mountains glowed as if lit from within. It was the perfect setting for a romantic wedding. Just what Serena had always said she wanted.

  Smiling with obvious pride, Tori leaned back in her chair. “You’ll be the first to use the gardens. It’s perfect. It’s you, Serena.”

  Natalia glanced away. Was a quickie marriage in Laughlin, Nevada, “her”?

  “Don’t you agree, Natalia?”

  She turned back. “Oh…yes. Yes, absolutely.”

  “So…” Tori’s eyes gleamed mischievously. “If you were planning a real wedding, Natalia, where would the perfect place be for you?”

  “I don’t know. I never thought about it.”

  “Now that’s a lie,” Serena said. “You were married in a church with a white dress and everything. You must’ve thought about it enough to plan that one.”

  That was true. She’d wanted the white dress and the church, but she’d wanted it to be simple, and intimate, with only the important people in their lives. Instead, it had turned into a circus. Her mother and father had come, but, it seemed, only to remind her that she had to finish school to become a research scientist or a doctor.

  The walk down the aisle with her father had been the longest walk in her life. Memorable, yes. But not in a good way.

  “You’re right. I thought about it back then. And with that wedding in mind, I think I’d do it exactly the same as Mac and I did. I’d elope. No fuss, no muss, no bother.”

  Serena frowned. “But that’s not at all romantic. You have to have romance when you get married.” She pinned Natalia with a gaze. “When you get married for real, anyway.”

  Natalia tried to smile, but the corners of her mouth wouldn’t move. “Of course. When it’s real, I’d want it to be romantic, but it still doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

  She picked at the paper on her tablet. “And right now, the only romantic wedding we’re interested in is yours. So let’s get to it.”