The SEAL’s Surprise Baby by Leslie North

15

“Shush, baby, it’s okay,” Violet whispered to Nate, trying to calm the fussy boy. He’d woken three times in the night. Twice she’d gotten to him first, but Anderson had settled him at four that morning, rocking Nate gently until his eyes closed.

And Anderson insisted he was no good at being a father. She shook her head. That wasn’t what she’d seen during the night or for any of the time they’d been on the run. He was inexperienced, but he seemed to innately get what to do.

“He’s a good daddy, isn’t he?” She moved Nate to the changing table and began dressing him for the day. “He just doesn’t know it yet.”

She’d worried throughout the sleepless and lonely night that her words hadn’t been enough to convince Anderson that he could do this. She’d admitted her own fears in the hope he’d see that no one had it all together. Parenting wasn’t something that came easily. Her own mother referred to it as the toughest job anyone had ever done. Violet couldn’t argue with that assessment.

“People who claim this is easy are foolish,” she said to Nate in a singsong voice, “Or they’re actors on television shows where everything is perfect.” Nate giggled at her tone of voice. “That’s right,” she continued, “those people are silly.” She slipped a clean shirt over the baby’s head. “But what are we going to do about your daddy?”

“We need to pack,” Anderson said from the doorway.

She stiffened. How long had he been standing there? Had he heard what she’d said to Nate? Oh, God, she didn’t want to reopen that conversation. Not now.

“Did something happen?” she asked, choosing to shift away from the personal. There would be a time when she’d pour out her heart to him, but it wasn’t then.

“No developments,” he said, “but they’ve located a different safe house for us and given me coordinates to pick up new IDs.”

She noticed the smile that came to Nate’s face at the sound of Anderson’s voice. The boy was becoming attached to his father. He was going to be upset if they were separated.

“We’re moving today?” That was more sudden than she’d anticipated. Rogers’s team was certainly efficient. She guessed she should be grateful, but the thought of moving wasn’t fun. Violet glanced around the room. In her shopping trips, she’d acquired several things for Nate that she didn’t want to leave behind. Clothes, toys, a playpen, and a bouncy seat.

“Looks like it. I’ll gather stuff up downstairs.”

“I’ve got this,” she said, but Anderson was already walking away. Nate let out a whimper when Anderson left. “I know, baby. I didn’t want him to go either.”

Over the next half hour, she alternately carried Nate on her hip as she packed up his room and put him down in his crib. He’d lie content for only a few minutes at a time, making her task more difficult.

Her belongings took much less time to gather, but Nate wasn’t willing to lie on her bed long enough for her to even put her few items of clothing and cosmetics in a bag. By the time she took him downstairs, she felt frazzled and overwrought. She’d been in tough spots before, but never with a child dependent on her.

The truth was that she wanted this to be over so she could take Nate home, even if she had to do it alone. She didn’t like thinking about that possibility, but she acknowledged that the uncertainty between her and Anderson added a layer of stress she didn’t need.

“Come on.” She adjusted Nate against her, picked up her bag, and took one last sweep of the room before going downstairs. When she reached the bottom step, Anderson held out the files that they’d picked up days earlier.

“You need to take another look at these,” he said without preamble. “It’s possible you missed something. You’ve got an hour before we need to leave.” His tone was all business, making her wonder if anything she’d said to him the evening before had sunk in. Would he even give them a chance as a family?

She swallowed and closed her eyes for a minute to gather her strength. None of this was what she needed after two days of being sick, and a night with a fussy baby. And she was irritated about Anderson’s directive. She’d combed through those pages, made notes, let it sift around in her brain, and nothing had clicked. Because there was nothing, she’d concluded. Hearing that she hadn’t done a good enough job made her feel useless. Normally, she was okay with criticism, but this wasn’t the morning for it.

She wanted a minute to herself, a chance to think. She was struggling to hold in the overwhelmed feeling when Nate’s little fist gripped the collar of her shirt, bunching it up as his fingernails scraped against her skin.

“Ouch, baby,” she said, gently prying his hand loose. She felt hot tears come to her eyes and tried to blink them back.

“Did he hurt you?” Anderson asked, dropping the files and taking Nate from her.

“No, it’s not him. I’m just…” She drew in a breath, trying to steady herself. This was no time to have a breakdown.

“What is it, then?” Anderson put his arm around her shoulders and led her to the living room to sit.

He didn’t understand, but at least he was trying to be nice. She appreciated that, but somehow his sudden kindness brought the tears on faster. She hadn’t been such an emotional wreck since the weeks after Nate’s birth when she’d been on a hormonal rollercoaster.

“Nothing. It’s fine. I’m fine.” She brushed away the tears and tried to force others back.

Anderson’s eyes were on her as he bounced Nate on his knee. After a minute, he said, “Violet, you don’t have to fake having it all together in front of me. I heard what you said last night about struggling to be a good mom.”

She gave him a small smile and admitted the truth. “It’s hard to do it all.”

“But you’re doing it,” he said. “You’re caring for Nate. You’re the smartest analyst I’ve ever worked with. Seriously, Violet, you’re an amazing woman.”

“Thanks,” she said, but she didn’t want a personal cheerleader. He meant well, she got that. “I just need a minute.” She focused on her clasped hands and slowly drew in several breaths. In the background, she realized Anderson and Nate had quietly left the room.

It would have been a good time for a long run or a yoga session, but she didn’t have the opportunity for either of those things. The best she could hope for was ten minutes to pull herself together and deal with the feeling of being overwhelmed by her responsibilities.

After several slow breaths in, she started to get things in perspective, and the sense that she was going to fall apart retreated until it was only a haze at the edges of her vision. It didn’t disappear, but she could keep it at bay for a little longer. Until they got out of this situation. With one last breath in, she pushed herself off the couch. No more sitting around, she told herself. She had work to do and a family to move.

An hour later, they were ready to change houses. She’d taken a look at the pages indicated by Rogers’s team, but she still couldn’t see that she’d missed something that would shed light on their problem. She’d try again later when they were someplace safe.

“I’m finished,” she called to Anderson, who was holding Nate and doing one more sweep through the upstairs to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything. “I’m going to put a few things in the car.”

She opened the front door and stopped dead. A black SUV sat at the curb and another blocked the end of their driveway. She retreated immediately, slamming the door closed. So stupid, she cursed herself. She hadn’t checked her surroundings before leaving the house. It was a rookie mistake, and now whoever was out there would know they’d been seen. They would act quickly.

“What is it?” Anderson questioned, suddenly beside her. He must have sensed the danger, because he dragged her to the floor with him.

“Where’s Nate?” She felt icy hands around her heart at the thought of putting Nate in jeopardy.

“In his crib. I heard you slam the door.” Anderson was pulling a gun from his waistband. “How many?”

“Two vehicles. I didn’t see any men”—she replayed the scene in front of the house in her mind—“but they have to be out there.”

Anderson slid on his stomach to a tactical bag near the door, removed an additional handgun, and gave it to her. “Take this and go upstairs. If they get past me, you know what to do.”

She’d had defensive training and went to the range regularly as part of her job. She’d used the skills more than once while on a mission, but she’d never had so much at stake before.

Anderson inched his way closer to the window. Before he reached it, the sound of the back door splintering cut through the air. “Go,” he said to her in an urgent whisper as he rose to a crouch, but she couldn’t let him face what might be several unknown assailants alone.

“I’ll give you backup.” She retreated to the foot of the stairs but held her ground there.

He shot her an irritated look and shook his head as he moved quietly toward the kitchen. A large man in black tactical gear rounded the corner and nearly collided with Anderson. Anderson punched the man in the throat, making him drop to the floor. Violet scrambled forward, taking handcuffs from the man’s belt and snapping them on his wrists.

“Upstairs,” Anderson mouthed at her, but she shook her head.

Two more assailants entered the room. Anderson brought one down with a sharp right to the jaw, but the other lunged past him, headed for Violet and the stairs.

“I wouldn’t,” she said, taking aim at the man’s chest. Before she had to make the decision to pull the trigger, Anderson put a sleeper hold on the man, quickly rendering him unconscious.

“How many?” Anderson growled in the ear of the handcuffed man. When the man didn’t answer, he asked again in Russian. Anderson’s grip was white knuckled around the man’s throat as he lifted him from the ground.

The assailant gasped out an answer that Violet couldn’t hear, but Anderson held up a finger to indicate one more before sliding out of the room. Ten seconds later, she heard a grunt and a thump as a heavy body went down.

“Got him,” Anderson said softly as he re-entered the room. “I’m going to check around. You okay?”

She gave a single nod before helping Anderson handcuff the remaining assailants. Inside, she was shaking. She’d never come close to shooting someone. She’d faced danger and had to fight in the past, but never had she held a gun on another human. It left her unnerved.

When she heard Nate’s soft whimper, she glanced up the stairs. He might be scared at the strange noises. Soundlessly, she took the steps, knowing that Anderson would handle everything else.

She was sitting in the rocker, a gun wedged alongside her, when Anderson came to the nursery a few minutes later.

“No one else,” he said, reaching for her gun and ejecting the magazine. “I called Rogers’s team.” He set the gun aside and reached out to stroke Nate’s hair. “They’re on their way, along with the local police.”

“That’ll give the neighbors a show,” she said, imagining the gossip that would fly up and down the street.

Anderson chuckled, and some of her tension eased. He shifted his hand from Nate’s head to her cheek and tucked a lock of hair that had come loose from her ponytail behind her ear. “You scared me down there.”

“I’m trained, you know.” She tried to smile at him.

“I know, but I still don’t want you in a firefight.”

She wanted to ask his meaning. Did he feel that way because of her, what she meant to him, or simply because she was the mother of their child? She wasn’t brave enough to ask, and a sudden thought sent a shiver through her. The bad guys had been caught. The circumstances that forced them together were over, which meant she and Anderson could go their separate ways. Was that what would happen now? Or had something worth pursuing come out of it? She was convinced it had—but was he?

She studied Anderson’s face, trying to read his thoughts, but he revealed nothing.

“I’m going to go meet Rogers’s guys,” he said. “They probably have a plan to keep this quiet, since this is one of their safe houses.”

“Sure,” she agreed, knowing it was best if she didn’t try to talk about their relationship while Anderson was still in protective mode. It would wait a little longer.

She watched from upstairs as Allen Zimmerman and three other members of Rogers’s team entered from the back alley to manage the situation. No doubt they were keeping it as low key as possible. Two police squad cars parked in the street were the only indications of a problem. Violet saw Jeff, Kelly, Evie, and several other people from the neighborhood standing across the street, but the most they got to see was one man put in the back of a police car and driven off. She guessed that had been done for show. The other assailants were taken out the back way.