by Low, Gennita
Suspicious she asked, “What are we doing here at the air field?”
“Hawk’s plane will be touching down here in a few minutes.”
“Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Why didn’t you tell me?” She looked down at the rounded curve of her stomach. The instant joy, followed by panic, set her heart to flight. “He doesn’t know. I’ve been waiting to tell him.”
“Well, it’s too late to do anything about it now.”
“But I was holding off because I was hoping he’d propose before he knew about the baby.”
Brett rolled his eyes. “You know he loves you, Zo. He damn well better propose now that he’s knocked you up.”
Zoe narrowed her eyes. “You have no romance in your soul Brett.”
“There’s Trish,” He pointed at the woman as she got out of her car and walked toward them.
Zoe got out of the car and moved to meet her halfway. Trish gave her a hug and looped her arm through hers.
“Hawk wanted to surprise you. He asked Langley to tell me to hold off telling you.”
Zoe blinked as she fought back tears and ran a trembling hand over her abdomen. “It’s going to be a surprise for the both of us.”
Trish gave her arm a squeeze. “A good one, huh?”
“Oh, God. I’ve been working all morning. I didn’t have time to brush my hair or freshen my make-up.”
“Too late for that now. Come on.” Trish tugged her toward the gate. Brett fell into step with them.
The guard at the gate waved them through after looking at their IDs. The other girlfriends and wives clustered together before the terminal. Several called out greetings to Trish and to her.
Zoe’s emotions seesawed back and forth between joy and anxiety. By the time the plane came into sight, she reached out and gripped Trish’s arm hard. Brett rested soothing hands on her shoulders.
The huge transport touched down with a scuff of its tires and taxied to the terminal. The rear door opened. Men loaded down with duffle bags filed down the ramp. Cries of pleasure broke out as women recognized their loved ones and raced forward to meet them. Langley appeared and Trish pulled away and ran to him. He caught her to him and kissed her.
Zoe looked back at the plane. Hawk’s tall form came into view. His hair was long and shaggy and hung around his lean face glossy and dark. His Indian heritage had never seemed more apparent. For a brief moment he looked like a stranger.
His eyes scanned the crowd as he came down the steps. He spied Brett then wove his way toward him his gaze still searching. He finally saw her and her stomach plunged and her heart raced as the familiar punch of love and longing coursed through her. Tears welled up and she limped forward. Hawk dumped the duffle onto the ground and his long strides covered the distance.
He was there before she could catch her breath. His attention homed in on the rounded bulge beneath her loose top. His eyes widened in surprise. He faltered a moment, and then a smile split his lips wide.
Relief had tears blurring her vision.
“I didn’t want to worry you,” she said as she went into his arms.
“I love you, Zoe.”
Hawk curved her closer and she rose on tiptoe to press tight against him. He kissed her with all the pent up emotion of a six-month separation. When he drew back, he didn’t release her, but palmed the rounded curve of her belly. “God, Zo. What a homecoming gift.”
She laughed in relief. “I love you so much.”
“Are you, both of you, all right?” he asked, a touch of anxiety shadowing his face.
“Yes.” She covered his hand with her own. “We’re wonderful now that your home.”
“I’m a little late from the look of things, but I have something for you.” He reached into his jacket pocket. He popped open a wide jewelry box. Inside nestled a set of three rings fashioned from white gold with turquoise stones imbedded. Arabic words etched into the face of the wedding bands, foreign and beautiful.
“They say forever in Arabic, Zoe. I took a chance and bought wedding bands to match hoping you’d make an honest man of me? Will you marry me?”
His pale gray gaze was so intent, his expression so eager, she started to tear up again but laughed instead.
No matter how far away he was, her love would follow him, as his would rest inside her—deeper than the child she carried. She had no doubts. She was right where she was supposed to be. “Yes. Oh, yes.”
Hawk kissed her again, his lips clinging to hers, his tongue tangling with hers so thoroughly they were both breathless when he raised his head. He removed the engagement ring from the box and slipped it on her finger. “What do you think?”
Zoe said the only thing she had breath left to murmur. “Hooyah.”
*
About the Book
Knowing all too well the sacrifices a woman must make, Zoe Weaver refuses to get involved with a man in the military. But when her brother, Brett, is injured during a mission, she has no choice but to ask for Lieutenant Adam ‘Hawk’ Yazzie’s help to discover who is responsible. If only she could ask him to be less irresistible, too.
Hawk is torn between loyalty to his men and his need to see justice done. But when a troubled teammate threatens Zoe’s life, as well as the brother’s she’s fought so hard to save, Hawk must lead the rest of the team in a rescue operation or risk losing the woman he loves.
About the Author
Teresa Reasor is a writer, teacher, and artist. After retiring from her day job of twenty-one years as an Art Teacher at a primary school and her night job of ten years as a College Instructor, she is now pursuing her DREAM job as a Full-Time Writer. She is a multi-genre published author of historical, military, and paranormal romantic suspense.
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Books by Teresa J. Reasor
BREAKING FREE (BOOK 1 OF THE SEAL TEAM HEARTBREAKERS)
BREAKING THROUGH (BOOK 2 OF THE SEAL TEAM HEARTBREAKERS)
BREAKING AWAY (BOOK 3 OF THE SEAL TEAM HEARBREAKERS)
TIMELESS
HIGHLAND MOONLIGHT
CAPTIVE HEARTS
SHORT STORIES
AN AUTOMATED DEATH
TO CAPTURE A HIGHLANDER’S HEART: THE BEGINNING
CAUGHT IN THE ACT
NOVELLAS
TO CAPTURE A HIGHLANDER’S HEART: THE COURTSHIP
WHISPER IN MY EAR (Coming soon!)
CHILDREN’S BOOKS
WILLY C. SPARKS: THE DRAGON WHO LOST HIS FIRE.
HAIKU CLUE (Coming soon!)
SEAL’s Lost Dream
J.M. Madden
Copyright © 2014 J.M. Madden
EPUB Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Hear our humble prayer, O God, for our friends the animals,
especially for animals who are suffering;
for animals that are overworked, underfed and cruelly treated;
for all wistful creatures in captivity that beat their wings against bars;
for any that are hunted or lost or deserted or frightened or hungry;
for all that must be put death.
We entreat for them all Thy mercy and pity,
and for those who deal with them we ask a heart of compassion
and gentle hands and kindly words.
Make us, ourselves, to be true friends to animals,
and so to share the blessings of the merciful.
Albert Schweitzer
Author Note
This story is not for reade
rs under 18.
The Military War Dogs that have taken part in the war in Iraq and Afghanistan are the unsung heroes of the wars. Numbering at about 2500 working animals, it is believed that they have saved more than 10,000 lives.
There isn’t a lot of publicity about these dogs, so I have had to take some liberties with the story, but I tried to stay as true to what I know as I could. I hope you enjoy it!
Chapter One
‡
“Your bearded mystery man just pulled in.”
Dr. Willow James looked up at her assistant Nicky leaning in the doorway. “Uh oh. What’d he bring me this time?”
Nicky shook her dark head. “Not sure. Sue is helping him now.”
Willow tied off the last stitch of the spaying she was doing on Donna Sharp’s new little cat Skittles. “Put him in room one and I’ll be there in just a minute. Whatever he brought, I’m sure it’s critical.”
Her vet tech nodded and disappeared.
Wiping the little tabby’s belly, she picked her up and carried her to the holding cages in back. Laying Skittles in the basket, she tucked a piece of fleece over her to keep her warm as she came out of the anesthesia. In a few minutes she’d send Nicky back to check on the cat.
Willow walked toward room one with dread in her stomach. ‘Flynn’, as he called himself, had been coming to her vet practice for about the past year, hauling in animal after animal for her to treat and try to find homes for. Or dispose of respectfully. Dogs for the most part. Usually strays. A couple had been micro-chipped and eventually returned to their grateful owners. She’d asked him once where he found them all. Hard, shadowed gray eyes had flashed to her for a moment. “They find me,” he told her quietly.
And she believed him.
The man was imposing. Six-three anyway, thick dark brown hair and beard, tight t-shirts that showed off more muscles than should be allowed on any man. He wore jeans that cupped his ass but hung low on his hips. A knife was tucked into the corner of the pocket. Pretty damn delicious. His personality, though, left a lot to be desired. For the most part, he snapped or grumbled at everyone. After seven years in practice on her own, he made her feel ridiculously inadequate at her own job. She wasn’t sure why he kept coming in. There were a hundred other vets in the Denver area he could patronize. If she hadn’t seen the way the animals themselves reacted to him, she’d have probably asked him to go to another vet.
But the animals loved him. Dogs with no more will to live gave him a final grateful lick before they faded away. Feral cats calmed under his broad hands as if they’d been waiting for him forever. She didn’t know what he did in real life, but he should have been a veterinarian. Or a K9 officer. Maybe Search and Rescue. Something where he could use the skill he had.
With the stealthy way he walked into a room, she thought perhaps he had military experience. She’d learned early on that making him wait in the waiting room put other customers on edge because he glared at them. The staff tried to get him into a room as quickly as possible.
It was a shame he was so abrasive. The man was positively gorgeous. Dark haired and light eyed. Scrumptious.
Stupid vanity made her tighten her gut and lift her boobs as she walked into the room, ready for anything.
Flynn didn’t allow the relief he felt at the sight of the sexy vet show on his face, but the knot of tension in his gut began to ease. With barely a glance at the table, she crossed to the sink to wash her hands, tossing her long black braid over her shoulder.
“Tell me what you have, Flynn.”
“It’s a dog.”
She frowned at him as she dried her hands. “Are you sure?”
He understood what she meant. The scrap of bones on the table barely classified as anything. It weighed less than thirty pounds, according to the scale out front. The frame of the animal was built for much more.
Dr. James leaned over the dog, ran her hand over its head and tilted its face up to look in the eyes. Unhooking the stethoscope from her slender neck, she held the end to the dog’s chest, listening for a moment before moving it to the belly.
Flynn hated this part of the ordeal. The waiting. The scales teetering. When the animals were this bad, he knew chances usually ran at about eighty-twenty on the negative side whether or not they could be saved. The dog was skin and bones, and hadn’t moved from the painful curl he had found her in an hour ago.
The dog’s brown eyes had latched onto his, and he’d known he couldn’t leave her behind that fence. A cable hung from her neck, but he couldn’t find the clasp end. It had embedded into the flesh and grown over.
There seemed to be something else going on with her, though.
The doctor leaned over the table toward him, ruffling the buttery-golden hair on the dog’s neck area. Even over the odor of the dog, her fresh laundry scent tickled along his skin, tugging at him to lean closer. Flynn braced his hands on the edge of the aluminum table and stayed where he was. He didn’t come here to see the shapely doctor with the broad smile.
Right.
She reached for a strange, paddle shaped device hanging on a wall hook, waving it over the dog’s shoulders. He knew the distinctive sound the machine made when it detected a microchip, but it didn’t happen this time.
“No microchip. And this cable has rusted apart. Whoever owned this dog didn’t care that it grew into her skin, but she worked to get free, it looks like.”
Fury made the hairs of his arms bristle. “You think they knew it had grown in?”
Dr. James nodded, her soft, whiskey colored eyes meeting his. “This isn’t something that happens over night. It takes weeks, if not months for it to get this bad.” She fondled the fur for a moment, then peeled back the hair to show him.
Flynn clenched his jaw to keep from turning the air blue. The fuckers needed to rot.
“We’ll trim her up and see how bad the neck wound is. Body score; she’s between a one or a two. More toward a one. This pretty girl hasn’t been fed for a while. No gut sounds at all.”
The knot in his stomach began to ease at her words. After a year of bringing animals to this soft hearted woman, he knew when she started to personalize the animal she was going to do her best to save it.
The doctor flexed the dog’s legs, then began to palpate her stomach.
“Oh, no.”
“What?” he demanded.
The doctor blinked up at him, frowning. “She’s pregnant.”
Flynn looked down at the emaciated thing on the steel table, unable to believe she had anything to give a litter of puppies. “Are you sure?” he snapped.
The doctor looked up at him with that look she had. “Yes, I’m sure. Not very many, but there are at least a couple in there.” She ruffled the dog’s head. “Okay, Mama, we’re going to fix you up.”
This was normally the point where Flynn bowed out of the scene and left the doctor to work her magic, but the dog turned her head to look at him as if she knew what he was thinking. Unable to help himself, he reached out to rub along her jaw. Her fluffy tail thumped against the table.
“Where did you find this one?”
“Industrial district.”
Dr. James frowned. “Hm. She looks like she could be a decent dog if they’d just taken care of her. But they left her to strangle. I’m glad she got away. Bastards.”
Flynn seconded her exclamation. If a person didn’t plan to take care of a dog, why would they have it in the first place? The animal looked at least part Shepherd, with her dark face and lighter body, but he couldn’t be sure.
Nicky, the vet tech, stuck her blond head in. “You’ve got an emergency coming. Hit by car. They’re about ten minutes out.”
The doctor nodded her head, examining the cable around the dog’s neck. “Okay. Thanks, Nicky. Why don’t you carry Mama here back to the cages? We’ll work on her after the emergency.”
“Mama? She’s pregnant?” She stepped more fully into the room. “No way. You poor thing.”
Nicky reached
to pick the dog up, but Flynn waved her away.
“I’ll move her.”
The women stood back as he lifted the dog carefully into his heavy arms. Nicky pointed down the hallway. Flynn knew the way; he’d done this before. Kneeling in front of the biggest cage on the bottom, ignoring the twinge in his hip, he leaned in and placed the dog carefully on the padded mat. The doctor held a blanket over his shoulder and he used it to tuck around the dog. Her dark-chocolate eyes watched every move he made but she didn’t seem fearful. He paused before he closed the door to run his hand over her head one more time. Then he forced himself to his feet and walked out of the practice.
Willow watched Flynn’s broad back disappear down the hallway. The man was such a chatterbox. She snorted to herself in derision. His nice ass kind of made up for his lack of conversation skills, though.
She took care of the dog hit by the car. It was a big old yellow lab, with more happiness than sense. He wiggled his whole body for her when she walked into the room and snuck in stealthy licks wherever he could. There was a long scrape on his rear leg and some weakness, but no breaks. She x-rayed the dog, but didn’t see any reason to be concerned. Cleaning his would, she wrapped his leg in bandage, talking to the distraught owner the entire time. But her thoughts were on the mama dog and her future. She would have to be careful with the anesthesia; she didn’t want the puppies to go too far under. Mama was already stressed.
Nicky had everything set up by the time the Lab was released and they worked quickly to shave the mama dog’s neck while they waited for the drugs to knock her out. Once asleep, with her neck shaved, Willow truly got mad. Usually she could disengage herself enough to care for the animals, but sometimes their circumstances worked their way through her hard shell. This dog had suffered for a long time. The cable had been around her neck long enough that the skin had completely grown over it. The only break they got was the infection that had set in. When Willow pulled on the exposed end of the cable, it slid through the slimy pus and out. She irrigated it as much as she could, then stitched in a couple of drainage plugs so the infection could leave the area. Nicky smeared the entire band with antibacterial ointment just as the anesthetic began to wear off.
