Returning to Eden (Acts of Valor, Book 1): Christian Military Romantic Suspense

by Rebecca Hartt

  One dark, elegant eyebrow edged above the other. “God’s in charge of your social life?”

  Her ironic tone dismayed him. So, she wasn’t a believer. That might present a problem.

  “Of course. He oversees every aspect of my life.”

  The statement seemed to puzzle her. “I’ve never understood that. You don’t want to control your own destiny?” Crunch. She bit the carrot and chewed it as she waited for his answer.

  He smiled ruefully. “My life would be a disaster if I tried to control it all by myself. That’s way too much work. God does a far better job than I ever could.”

  He could tell by her mystified expression she had no source of strength to fall back on. His plan to marry her one day wavered. How would that work out to be with someone who couldn’t understand the way faith worked?

  “Eden says the same thing,” Nina commented. “I wasn’t raised to believe in anything.” Lifting her gaze to the lavender sky, she added, “But I do.”

  Her confession relieved and encouraged him. “Then you believe in a Creator?”

  “Oh, yes,” she nodded. “I just don’t talk to Him.”

  “You could try it,” he suggested.

  She laughed at the thought. “I’m afraid I would just end up yelling at Him.”

  He blinked at the unexpected confession. “Are you mad at God?”

  Her focus turned inward. “I suppose I am.”

  “Tell me,” he encouraged.

  Her face hardened, and she turned her head to regard him. “Look, I’m not here to tell you all about my past. I’m not even here to get to know you better.”

  Her apologetic grimace took the edge off her words.

  “Why are you here then?” He sensed a deep vulnerability in her, one she hid behind her thorns.

  She looked down at the cheese plate and reached for a cheddar cube.

  “I can’t believe I’m going to say this,” she muttered to herself.

  “Say it,” he encouraged. “There’s nothing you could say that would upset me.”

  Hope vied with disillusionment in the big brown eyes she raised to him.

  “One of the reasons I’m mad at God,” she said, hearkening back to their conversation, “is because I can’t have a baby. I’ve always wanted children, but I’m barren.”

  While her words disappointed him, the pain in her voice melted him. Scooting closer, he reached for her hand and squeezed it.

  “I’m sorry.” Keeping her hand in his, he waited for her to continue.

  “However,” she continued, her voice growing strained, “there’s a possibility I could have a baby through in-vitro fertilization. I just need a sperm donor.”

  He stilled, suddenly aware of where their conversation was going.

  “You want me to be the sperm donor?”

  Searching his incredulous gaze, she licked her lips in a nervous gesture.

  “Are you angry with me?”

  Her anxiety was palpable. “No. Querida, you can ask anyone who knows me. I don’t get angry. I’m extremely placid.” He sent her his most patient smile.

  “Now you’re teasing me.”

  “Yes.” His smile widened. “I have many attributes that make me the ideal candidate to father your child.”

  Her eyes widened. “Then you’ll do it?” She gripped his hand with evident excitement. “You’ll be my sperm donor?”

  “Ah.” He took exception to her terminology. “I think we may be skipping over some critical steps first.”

  “Like what?” she asked, withdrawing the warmth of her hand.

  The question took him aback. “Like getting to know each other?”

  He was dismayed to see her expression freeze. “Oh.” He pulled back to look at her more directly. “You’re asking me to father your baby without any more involvement? Is that what you’re asking?”

  He failed to disguise his incredulity—not to mention disillusionment and, yes, anger.

  She flinched. “You make it sound like a crime. Women do it all the time.”

  “We’re not talking about women in general,” he replied with controlled heat. “We’re talking about you and me and creating a child who deserves every advantage in life, which means a two-parent household. Are you saying I wouldn’t take part in his life—?”

  “Or her life,” she interrupted, growing as hot under the collar as he was.

  “Either way,” he continued, “I’m not fathering a child unless I have full privileges as a parent with unlimited visitation.”

  Forcing himself to stop speaking, he barely kept himself from adding how he wouldn’t father a child with her anyway unless they got married first. Yet talk of marriage had sent her running for the hills the last time he’d brought it up, so he withheld that caveat to be brought up at a later time, after she’d grown to love and to trust him.

  Nina popped the entire cube of cheese in her mouth and chewed, presumably while considering his ultimatum. Then she emptied half her wine glass with a long draught.

  “That might be possible,” she finally said.

  Exultation hit his bloodstream, making Santiago want to punch a fist into the air and bellow “Hooyah!” Knowing that would scare Nina away, he held out his goblet and proposed a toast, “To our future child.”

  Her gaze jumped from the goblet to his face, causing him to hold his breath lest she reconsidered.

  At last, she touched her glass to his, creating a lovely chime, which, to him, sounded rather like a church bell.

  “To Esme,” Nina said, lifting her chin in a gesture he recognized as defiance. “That’s her name.”

  “Short for Esmerelda?” Santiago guessed.

  “Could be,” she said with a shrug. “Esmerai is a Turkish name. My grandmother’s name.”

  Ah, so she was Turkish American, hence her shiny black hair and almond-shaped eyes.

  “Esme,” he repeated. “I like it.”

  A dusky pink blush highlighted her cheekbones, making her so breathtakingly beautiful he ached to kiss her.

  All in good time, he thought, checking that impulse. If he played his cards right, Nina would be the one to kiss him first. Then love, then marriage.

  If God wills it, he added to himself.

  Chapter 18

  “Hello?” Putting down the book he was reading, Jonah answered his cell phone with a soaring of his heart. Eden! He’d called her a dozen times; at last, she was calling him back. Swinging his gaze out the big windows of Master Chief’s living room, he saw it was nearly dark.

  “Jonah?”

  The way she said his voice had him scooting to the edge of the armchair in which he’d been reading. “What’s wrong?”

  “Miriam’s not with you by any chance, is she?”

  Jonah looked around Master Chief’s empty living room.

  “No. Have you tried Ian’s?”

  “Yes, she’s not there, either. She left her cell phone in the bathroom. The dog had an accident in the house, which means she didn’t walk her like she was supposed to. And now it’s dark outside. I’m really getting worried.”

  Concern drove Jonah to his feet. “I’ll come help you look for her,” he offered, hunting for his shoes.

  “You don’t have to do that,” she replied.

  “Yes, I do. I’m probably the reason she’s doing this. I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

  Hanging up on her, he found his shoes under the chair and started putting them on when his phone rang again. This time, he didn’t recognize the number.

  “Hello?” He hoped it was Miriam, borrowing someone else’s phone.

  “Mr. Mills? This is Officer Hammond with the Virginia Beach Police.”

  Jonah sank back into the chair, alarm prickling along his spine. “Yes?” Hammond was the officer who’d caught Miriam buying cigarettes the previous week and, somehow, he’d gotten Jonah’s number.

  “I’m sorry to tell you this, but your daughter, Miriam, was caught smoking cigarettes at Back Bay Wildlife Refuge, w
here smoking is prohibited.”

  Stunned, Jonah recalled how Miriam liked going to Back Bay to look for wild ponies.

  “I see,” he said, disappointed. It was his fault she was acting out, he was certain.

  “I need you to come collect her. She’ll be fined, of course. And because she’s a minor, you’ll have to go to court.”

  Jonah didn’t care what they had to do. Miriam had been driven by her emotions to break the rules. She was clearly crying out for help, which was why she’d given Hammond his number and not her mother’s. What’s more, he fully intended to be there for her.

  “I understand. Collect her where?” he asked.

  “I’ve detained her at the visitor’s center. The park just closed, but you can raise the bar by hand and drive in.”

  Jonah glanced at his watch. Back Bay was at least five miles distant. Eden would have to pick him up and take him there.

  “I’ll be there by nine o’clock,” he said, using civilian time.

  An impatient silence followed. “Fine,” Hammond said on a curt note and hung up.

  Disliking the man’s peremptory tone and worried for Miriam, who was probably frightened out of her mind, Jonah called Eden immediately.

  “Hello?” she answered on a hopeful note.

  “I know where she is.”

  “Oh, thank goodness.”

  “She went to Back Bay to look for ponies.”

  “All the way out there?” Eden sounded skeptical. “But her bike is here at the house.”

  Jonah stopped prevaricating. “Okay, truth is I just got a call from Officer Hammond. Miriam was caught smoking cigarettes inside the reserve.”

  “Oh, no,” Eden cried, obviously distraught.

  “But she’s safe,” Jonah soothed. “That’s all that matters. He wants me to pick her up at the visitor’s center.”

  Eden groaned. “It’s a wildlife refuge. I can’t imagine what the fine for smoking is out there!”

  “Don’t worry about the fine,” Jonah said. “I told Hammond I would be there by nine. Can you come pick me up? I would ask Rivera but he’s on a date.”

  “I’m leaving right now,” she told him. “On a date with whom?”

  He overheard the door shut behind her as she let herself out of the house.

  “Your friend Nina. She came over this morning—mostly to check me out on your behalf, but then she took Master Chief up on his offer of a date.”

  “That’s great! I’m happy for them.” But her tone sounded distracted, and her happiness was clearly tempered by worry for her daughter. Jonah heard her shut herself inside the Jaguar and start the engine.

  “Focus on the road,” he urged. “I’ll be waiting for you out front.”

  By the time he reached the mailbox, he could see the headlights of their car coming up the road. Eden had a lead foot on the accelerator. Not for the first time did he curse his inability to drive.

  “Hey,” he said, drinking in the sight of her as he slipped into the car.

  She paused to stare back at him, her moist eyes reflecting the street lamps.

  “Hi.” The air in the car thickened with emotional tension.

  “Let’s go get our girl,” he prompted, putting on his seatbelt. “She has to be feeling pretty intimidated.”

  “Hopefully enough to learn her lesson,” Eden murmured, even as she accelerated swiftly, turning right onto the road that took them away from Sandbridge and toward the refuge. The sky grew darker as the road carried them from civilization into nature.

  Approaching the entrance to the park minutes later, Jonah saw the bar was indeed down.

  “Hammond told me to raise the bar and come on in.” He hopped out of the car to do just that.

  Seconds later, they pulled up next to a Park Services Range Rover and a dark blue sedan. At the other end of the lot, parked nearly out of sight, was a familiar-looking car.

  “Oh, look down there,” Jonah exclaimed. “That’s Master Chief’s car.”

  Eden followed his gaze and frowned. “He brought Nina on date out here?”

  “I guess so.” As he straightened from his own car, Jonah’s gaze went to the blue sedan. It was an undercover cop car, he realized, identical to the one that had run him and Sabby off the road over a week ago.

  Jonah’s instinct for trouble twitched. He patted the Sig at his hip, relieved to have it in his possession. Wouldn’t this remote area be the perfect place to do him in? Then again, Lowery had nothing to do with Miriam smoking at a wildlife refuge. Jonah had to be paranoid to think Lowery could arrange such an elaborate plot to get him out here, nearly alone, too.

  All the same, he caught Eden’s hand as she hastened toward the office, a wooden bungalow painted in driftwood gray.

  “Slow down, honey,” he begged her. “Something feels wrong about this.”

  The pitying look she cast him made him want to howl in frustration.

  “Just stay behind me,” he requested tersely.

  With a huff she didn’t bother to hide, she stepped into his shadow, letting him precede her toward the door.

  Other than the crash of the nearby ocean and the whistling of wind through the sea grasses, the place was unnaturally quiet. Their footsteps reverberated on the wooden ramp. Sand crunched loudly under their soles. Just as they reached the solid door, it swung open. Jonah found himself looking up into the hard face of a uniformed officer.

  “Evening,” said Hammond curtly.

  Oddly, though the sun was sucking the last hint of daylight from the sky, the man hid his face behind sunglasses. Even so, the distinctive line of his jaw, paired with the car out front, identified him as the driver who would have struck and possibly killed him a week earlier if he hadn’t jumped off the road in time.

  Adrenaline spiked his bloodstream. Prompted by instinct and ignoring caution completely, Jonah seized the man’s shirtfront, yanking him off balance. Hammond stumbled forward, and Jonah drove a knee into his midsection. As the man doubled over, Jonah snatched the pistol from the officer’s holster.

  “What are you doing!” Eden railed.

  “Trust me,” he growled at her. With Hammond straightening on a groan, Jonah transferred the 9mm to his own shooting hand and released the safety.

  “Back up,” he ordered.

  Eden tried again, clearly appalled by what was happening.

  “Jonah! You can’t do this!”

  “Stay right here,” he ordered her. “Back up!” he repeated when the cop didn’t move.

  With a look of fury and pure reluctance, the cop took three steps into the visitor’s center.

  “Stop,” Jonah added when it was clear the man was looking for a weapon on the counter behind him. Stepping inside, Jonah searched for Miriam, but the modest room, comprised of a counter, bookshelves, and a bench, appeared empty.

  “She’s not here,” he called to Eden.

  “What?” she said, edging into the room to have a look for herself.

  “Don’t come in!” Jonah warned.

  Taking advantage of his distraction, the officer reached for the nearest object at hand—a wooden pamphlet organizer—and hurled it at Jonah, who dodged easily only to find himself tackled a second later.

  The cop slammed him into the wall, causing the gun in his hand to discharge, embedding a bullet in the ceiling. Eden screamed. Two things occurred to Jonah at once. First, the man wasn’t only bigger than he was, he was obviously a trained combatant, probably ex-Special Forces. Second, he was entirely fit. If Jonah let the man get the better of him, he wouldn’t live to tell about it, and Eden was probably next to be killed for witnessing the event.

  “Go!” he managed to yell at her between hooks and punches and deadly choke holds. “Get Master Chief!”

  Eden had frozen in astonishment. Somewhere between Jonah’s unexpected offensive and the horrifying and unbelievable consequences, it had dawned on her maybe her husband’s paranoia wasn’t strictly in his head. Something weird was happening; otherwise, Miriam wo
uld be here, and Hammond would be reasoning with Jonah, not trying to kill him.

  With spittle flying and furniture breaking, it was horribly apparent Jonah was fighting for his life.

  “Go!”

  His plea penetrated the shell of shock keeping her motionless. Eden backed out of the building, fumbling to extract her phone from her purse. She had no idea where Jonah’s master chief might have taken Nina.

  Please let them be close, she prayed, accessing her contacts and finding the number he’d given her back when everyone thought Jonah was dead.

  As the ringer sounded in her ear, Eden cast a torn glance back at the visitor’s center and the sounds of a terrifying struggle before leaping off the stoop and running as fast as her legs could take her, up the path leading toward the ocean. Where else would Rivera and Nina have chosen to picnic, but within view of the water?

  Rivera’s phone rang and rang in Eden’s ear. Over the sound, she detected footsteps behind her and realized she was being chased. Fear galvanized her. Was Hammond not alone, then? She increased her speed, flying along a raised footbridge conveying her past several dunes and thorny brush.

  “Master Chief!” she yelled, as her call to him went to voicemail. The wind carried her cry inland.

  Reaching the end of the footbridge, she dared to look back. Under the twilight sky, the bridge was sufficiently lit that she could tell no one was behind her. Yet she was certain she’d been chased, at least for a while.

  Crack! A second bullet discharged inside the visitor’s center.

  “Master Chief!” Eden cried again. Whirling toward the ocean, she sprinted across the soft sand in the hopes that he and Nina had gone right and not left.

  Santiago’s swim in the ocean had kept him from proposing to Nina before she was ready to hear it.

  “You’re lucky you didn’t get eaten by a shark,” she commented as he emerged from the sea and took the towel she offered him.

  “You sound relieved that I’m alive,” he teased, toweling his damp head.

  “Humph.” She refused to give him the satisfaction of saying as much. “You do swim well.”

  “Thanks.” He paused in the act of drying his chest. “Did you hear that?”