Code Name: Kayla's Fire (24 page)

Instead of being ticked, she had more important things on her mind.
“She has to go pee,” she said, swiftly feeling the need with the baby squishing
her bladder.

“She does?” Thane looked up at her with a start. “Oh, yeah, right. I
fixed the downstairs bathroom. Toilet flushes now. Dinner’s ready in a…oh,
shit.” Thick smoke swirled from the barbeque, and he put it into SEAL speed
gear, running for the patio.

A gurgle of laughter coiled its way up her throat. “Burnt dinner, you
mean.” She shook her head and did a fine imitation of a penguin toward the
bathroom.

After cleaning up, she joined him on the patio. The massive backyard
was once a pristine lawn, but nature had her way. Tall weeds and grass changed
manicured into eclectic. Trees and wild flowers had taken over, and a small
sapling took root in the middle of the lawn, looking sadly alone and out of
place. Remnants of long-dead fires blackened the cement blocks of the fire pit,
yet green sprouts of summer found their way through the scorched earth and ash
to reach the air. Her thoughts wandered to the night it had been alive with
flame and friends huddled around it. She swallowed and quickly glanced away.
Breathing in the warm, clean air, she turned to see Thane babysitting his
chicken, but he watched her with a reminiscent look.

“It was a night I’ll never forget,” he said, clamping the edge of a
thigh, turning it and glancing back at her. “Surrounded by friends, sharing
with them how much I love you. Believe it or not, it was one of the scarier
things I’ve done.”

She crossed her arms and stared down at her feet, or where her feet
used to be. “Things change,” she said quietly.

“Nothing’s changed.”

“I’ll get us something to drink.” She escaped into the kitchen.

In the three weeks since Thane had pushed his way back into her life,
he’d put weight back on and his body marbled with strong roaming muscles. He
ran and used an old weight set that he found tucked away in the garage,
strengthening his arms and legs. His hair was longer and he didn’t look like a
guy straight out of the ranks, but some flippin’ hawt guy that would turn an
entire line of women’s head on a beach, if he walked by. She hated that her heart
still fluttered wildly when he looked at her.

She returned with a beer for him and a glass of milk for herself. Just
about to sit down, her eyes strayed to him and she saw an odd patch on the back
of his shirt. It looked wet and discolored. “What’s that?” she asked taking a
step for a closer look.

“Chicken, at least I hope its chicken.” A grin stretched his square
jaw line when he glanced back over his shoulder at her.

“No, I mean that.” She pointed.

He looked around and above. “What, Kayla?”

“Take your shirt off.”

“Oh. No, dinner’s ready,” he said quickly.

Her hands settled on her hips. “Take the chicken off and your shirt
too.”

He removed the chicken from the barbeque, enough to feed four of them
and placed it on the large patio table he’d already set. “Kayla, it’s all right.
Come on let’s eat.”

She stood her ground. “I’m not eating until you take your shirt off,
and she’s,” pointing at her stomach, “hungry.”

Thane pulled her seat out. “That’s not fair.”

“Too bad. She’s starving.”

“It’s not something you wanna see before eating, believe me.” He
turned off the barbeque elements and twisted the gas line shut, then closed the
lid.

When she squared a hard look on him, he gave in. Slowly he undid each
button, revealing his chest. She tried her hardest not to let her eyes walk
down and over each sweeping bulge on his abdomen as he pulled his shirt wider.
Why the hell did he have to look like that?

A memory flickered in her mind. The day he’d rescued her from the
unsavory real estate agent, she’d watched him dry himself off and had followed
the fine line of hair against a taut stomach reaching from his navel to places
that made her blush. She knew those places intimately now, and they’d brought a
lot of pleasure.

“What are you thinking about, Kayla?”

“What,” her gaze popped to his. “Nothing.”

Sliding the shirt off his broad shoulders and down corded arms, he
never took his eyes off her. She steered away from the shot of excitement as
lava oozed through her blood. “Turn around,” she said a little too harshly,
seeing him hesitate. The creases around his too blue eyes deepened making her
bones soften. Looking toward the back yard instead of him, she swirled her
finger around indicating he should turn.

He did as she asked. “Oh, Thane.” She didn’t think, she just reached
out and slid her hand along the wounds. A tremble under his skin followed her
touch. “This is badly infected.” The wound was puffy and seeping fluid.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Is there a medical kit in the house?”

“Yeah, there’s one in the storage room. Industrial-sized. Being up
here, they needed to be prepared for anything. I think it’s still there.”

“I’ll get it,” she said, turning for the door.”

“No.” He caught her around the shoulders. “I will, stay here.”

“Look for penicillin, you’re going to need some. If not, we have to go
to town right away.”

A few minutes later Thane returned with a couple bottles, bandages,
and gauze.

She waited inside by the kitchen table. “Sit down,” she ordered,
taking the bottle of hydrogen peroxide from him and the cloth.

He shook a small bottle with some pills in it. “It’s out of date, but
there’s about five days worth in here.”

She ran a glass of water and handed it to him. “Take one now. How many
times a day?”

Thane scanned the label. “Three.”

“Sit.” He followed her order and she cleaned the wound. He didn’t
flinch, but the angry skin and flesh had to be painful. “Tell me if I hurt
you,” she said, gently dabbing at the area.

“You want the truth?” he asked quietly.

“Of course I do,” concentrating on what she was doing.

“Every day, every hour, and every second.”

“What?” then she realized her mistake. “You know what I’m talking
about.”

“You asked,” but she could hear in his voice, he had cornered her and
he liked it. “Owww.” He jerked away from her.

“Never piss off a spiteful woman,” she said, easing the heavy hand
she’d used to make him jump.

“You’re not spiteful, never have been.”

“Don’t count on it.” She dabbed the area dry and inspected it. So,
this is what a bullet does. She looked at the other wounds, all healing nicely,
and dragged a finger around one of them. “It must have hurt like hell.” Thane’s
fingers forked together and then apart.

“Just about done?” he asked.

She placed her hand out palm up. “Give me your phone.”

He turned a look over his shoulder at her. “Why?”

“Phone.”

He slipped it from his pocket and laid it in her hand, sliding his
fingers against hers. She snatched her hand away and then thumbed through the
icons. Finding what she was looking for she steadied and took the picture. She
held the phone out for him to see. “That’s bad, isn’t it?”

He tilted his head and his lips pursed together. “It’s not good.” He
took the phone from her and tucked it away.

Flattening the gauze, she laid it over the injury and ripped a piece
of tape off with her teeth, laying long strips to hold it in place, then
covered it with another bandage. “We’ll check it tomorrow. If it’s getting
worse, you have to see a doctor.”

“Speaking of which—” He swiveled in his chair and clasped his hands
around her hips. “You’ve never seen a doctor, have you?”

Collecting the bandage wrappers and ignoring his warm hands, she said,
“I don’t need to see one.” She tried to step away, but he easily held her in
place. Leaning over he kissed her stomach, and slowly raised his gaze up to
hers. God, she wished he wouldn’t do that.

“I’m sure she’s fine, but you need an ultrasound.”

She shook her head.

“Yes. One. One to make sure everything is all right.” From the look in
his eyes there was going to be no argument.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Five days later, they were still arguing in the car as he drove her
fifty miles east to a doctor’s office he’d found that served the ranching
communities and far-flung countryside. Thane gave them false names, and said
they were new to the area.

“Whose car is this?” she asked, finally giving up on trying to make
him turn around.

“My sister’s. We traded. She doesn’t want to trade back, apparently.”

She laughed. “Yeah, I guess not.”

“There it is” he motioned with a finger, slowing down as they
approached a small brown building, mostly obscured by other little buildings,
in a town no bigger than a pit stop.

“These guys have an ultrasound?”

“Yup.”

“Do I have an appointment between a sheepdog and a Doberman?” she
asked, eyeing the building that needed a fresh coat of paint.

He chuckled. “Haven’t you ever heard about not judging a book by its
cover?”

Thane parked and was around to her side of the car in a heartbeat,
extending his hand. The waiting room was empty except for a woman in her
fifties who wore a light blue nurse’s uniform and her hair neatly tucked in a
bun. “Mr. and Mrs. Adams?”

Mr. and Mrs.?
She glared up at him.

“Yes,” Thane said, putting a full wattage smile on his face. “Doc in?”

“Soon, follow me.”

Kayla stopped in the door and swallowed deeply. She hated the antiseptic
scent of a health care facility. It brought back memories, ones she didn’t want
to remember.

“Sweetheart?” Thane’s brows disappeared into his bangs and he reached
a hand out which she ignored.

“Mrs. Adams, please change into this gown,” the nurse said, holding it
out to her. “Then take a seat. Doctor Plymouth will be in shortly. He’s running
a little late this morning, but he called and said he’s on his way.”

She took it hesitantly and looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to
change. Holding the gown to her chin, her eyes fell on Thane.

“Need help?”

“No I don’t need help!”

“Kayla come on. I mean—” Thane held his palms up giving her a
half-hearted smile. “Sweetheart.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Adams?” she growled at him.

“Country people are always married.”

“Country people? You’re so full of it.”

“The doc’s gonna be in here in a second.”

“Turn around.”

“Kayla—”

“Turn—a—round.”

He rolled his eyes and turned. She quickly changed and sat down in the
chair, her stomach ballooning out in front of her. “I hate hospitals.”

“This isn’t a hospital.”

“Just the same.”

“No, it’s not.”

Just before hurtling into a debate, the door swung open and a young
doctor, too good-looking to be a physician, came in. The doc looked to be the
same age as them. A trim cut styled his thick, brown hair. A couple long
strides brought him into the room. The typical white coat swung at his sides,
but he wore Levis and a light blue shirt underneath. “Mr. and Mrs. Adams, I’m
Mike Plymouth. Nice to meet you.”

Thane rose and shook his hand. “Hi doc, I’m Sid, this is my wife,
Marie.”

Sid and Marie, right!
She held down a chuckle. How friggin’ original.

“Marie, how are you feeling?” Dr. Plymouth asked, kneeling in front of
her and extending a hand.

“I’m fine, thanks.” Inquisitive blue eyes and a lean face with plenty
of charisma gave her the once-over.

“Good, so I understand you haven’t seen a physician yet in regards to
your pregnancy.”

“No.”

He nodded and sat on a small stool with a round seat able to turn
circles unhindered next to the small cabinet with the usual disinfectant wipes,
gloves and hazardous waste containers. Swiping a pen from his pocket, he asked,
“Do you have any idea when the baby was conceived?”

“No.”

“January third
or tenth,” Thane piped out at the same time.

Both the doc and she turned their attention to him.

Thane gave him a raised brow. “I think.”

 
Here Thane, thought I’d give you a baby for your birthday since I
didn’t have time to pick up anything else.
She remembered January tenth
well enough. A bullet had whizzed close enough to her ear to feel its friction.
Thane had saved her life, again, and that night, all night, he’d made love to
her. How the hell could a woman
not
get
pregnant? Without thinking, her fingers played with his Budweiser hanging
around her neck. She’d taken it off a dozen times, but put it right back on
again. A soft smile on Thane’s lips made her drop her hand.

“Okay,” the doc plucked a pen from his pocket. “When’s your birthday,
Kayla?”

“July tenth, nineteen seventy-three.”

Dr. Plymouth nodded as he wrote and then grinned up at her. “Well,
happy birthday, then.”

A
whoosh
swept from Thane’s
lips like an open air gauge. She hadn’t kept track of the days either.
Thirty-seven, today. She avoided both their gazes. “Thank you.”

“Is this your first child?”

“Yes, but I…had several miscarriages years ago.”

“How many? Miscarriages, I mean.”

“Twelve.”

The doc stopped scribbling and slowly turned his attention on her.
Thane’s grin dimmed. “Did you say twelve?”

She put her attention on the beige linoleum tiles of the floor, marred
by old scratches and marks that couldn’t be washed away. It sort of resembled
her. “Yes.”

Without missing a beat, he asked, “How long did you carry them?”

“Varied,” she said, not wanting to get into details.

“Marie had a very laborious job. She never sits still,” Thane filled
in with an unconvincing lie.

The doc eyed
Sid
and then
her. There were no cows around, but the smell of bullshit hung in the air. “Did
you carry longer than six months?”

“No, I usually lost them around four or less.”

“Well, this lil’ one seems determined,” he gave her a warm smile.

Why was it when a man smiled with honest warmth, it made a woman
woozy, and drew a mirrored smile from her own lips.

“Why don’t we see how he or she is doing?” He stood up, pulled on a
pair of gloves from a cardboard box on the counter and walked to the ultrasound
situated next to the examining table.

Thane offered a hand to help her from the chair. Eyeing the doctor,
she saw him grasp the wand and the gel. The memory of each lost child layered
her skin with cold sweat. Twelve
I’m
sorries
from the past plucked the strings of fear in her belly.

Dr. Plymouth swiveled, situating himself beside her. When she didn’t
move, more or less keeping her gown tucked tightly around her, the doc shot a
look at Thane, and then back at her. “Mrs. Adams, I need to apply the gel.”

Reluctantly, she complied and laid back. Thane’s fingers slid through
hers, and she was glad for his reassurance, but it didn’t relax her one little
bit. Dr. Plymouth pulled at her gown, and she stiffened even more. Again, the
doc looked at Thane.

“Ka…Marie, I think you need to relax,” Thane said, and his hand gently
swept beneath the cloth, against her bare hip, and across her lower abdomen. No
matter how much she resisted him, the second his skin touched hers, her body
responded, and she relaxed. Thane’s warm palm laid flat, his thumb brushing the
top of her mons. To her chagrin, she moistened.

Dr. Plymouth gave a slight nod, and brushed the garment aside, quickly
covering it with the gel. “Have you experienced any pain during your pregnancy?”

She stared up at the ceiling and swallowed. “No.” Gripping the paddle,
he applied light pressure, and slowly began tracking across her stomach, stopping
and pressing a button below the monitor then moving on.

“That’s our baby girl,” Thane said, awe in his voice, and his eyes,
before the doc was even halfway done.

The doc gave him a smile. “You think it’s a girl?”

“It’s not?” he flustered, his eyes bright as he watched the image on
the monitor with rapt attention.

“Do you want to know the sex? Some couples prefer not to know.”

She and Thane exchanged a glance. “Do you want to know?” he asked.

She riveted her attention on the ceiling tiles, not wanting to look at
the little image.

“Sweetheart, look at her,” Thane’s words were more pleading, and he
squeezed her hand.

Slowly, she turned her head, and saw their baby, a clear picture of
him or her on the screen. That was their child. A child they’d made in the
moments of peace amongst all the craziness. She could see its perfect little
hands and head. Until this very second, she’d never touched the reality, the
depth behind it. She’d been too afraid.

The doc interrupted them. “I believe you’re right, Mr. Adams, this
child was conceived in the first week or so of January. If it is January third,
I’d say it will be born around September twenty-fifth. Now, do you want to know
if it’s a boy or girl?’

“We want both.” Thane held her stare. “Although, if we knew we could….”
He paused, but he pushed on. “We could prepare a little better.”

For a SEAL, Thane wasn’t concealing anything. Feeling the baby at the
same time as seeing it move, made everything real. Her breath hitched in her
throat, and tears swam with urgency. Clenching her jaw, she grappled at every
tool she had, not to feel the tightness in her chest, the loss she was sure
would come, and how unbelievably sad it made her.

Thane leaned over, and rested his head against hers closing his eyes.
“Everything is going to be all right.”

Nothing was all right. She bit her lip hard to stop the tears. “Tell
us.”

Dr. Plymouth continued to take pictures, ignoring their moment, and
then grinned. “Well, I’d say you better go for blue instead of pink.”

“It’s a boy?” Thane exclaimed. “You’re kidding?”

“Well, normally I don’t, at least when it comes to this,” Doc Plymouth
said winking at her.

A quick swipe of her hand removed the tears from her cheek. “I guess
not,” she said smiling back.

Doctor Plymouth seemed genuinely kind, but then his features withered
as he concentrated on the monitor. “I don’t have any of my own yet, been too
busy setting up this practice. I was born a couple ranches up the road. Always
knew I was going to come back here.”

“What does your wife do?” she asked, thinking she was probably a
gorgeous woman filled with life, healthy and beautiful. A blonde, who wore her
hair in a high ponytail and looked awesome in a pair of Lu Lu Lemons.

“Don’t have one of those either,” he said, steadying a warm gaze on
her.

Thane’s grip tightened on her shoulder. The doc moved the paddle to
the lowest part of her abdomen. He stopped and leaned in, his concentration deepening
on the monitor as he took several pictures. Kayla watched the doc, and she
didn’t miss the tightening at the corner of his eyes or the way his breathing
changed.

Finishing up, the doc gently swiped her stomach with a few towelettes,
and then stood up. Stretching for the pressure cuff above her head, he unhooked
it and wrapped it around her arm with masculine fingers, but a gentle touch.

“How is your health otherwise, Marie?”

“Fine.” She watched, as did Thane. Her pressure looked a little high.
The doc wrote the reading in his folder and snapped it closed.

“If you could sit up, I’d like to check your breathing.”

Thane helped her, and she slipped the robe from her shoulders,
catching it in front of her. Thane’s jaw tightened. It was an infinitesimal change,
but she knew his expressions so well.

The doctor’s hands glided across her back, his finger pausing on each
scar. A cool circle of metal touched her skin, and she took a normal breath.
Thane’s eyes cooled as he watched the doctor closely.

When the doc was finished, he said, “I want to look at something first
and then I’ll bring you a copy of the pictures.”

“Is something wrong?” Thane asked quickly.

“Just give me a few minutes. Marie, you can get dressed.”

The doc left the room and Thane tracked his departure. When she
swiveled to get up, Thane’s attention was back on her and he helped her off the
table. “Do you think he knows?” she asked as she slid the robe off. Thane had
never seen her back in the unforgiving daylight. It was that or expose her breasts
and ballooned belly. As she reached for her shirt, she heard Thane release a
small groan, and within a breath, he was behind her, his hand caressing her.

Thane understood pain and injury. He’d had plenty serving as a SEAL.
His arm slipped around her, and before she could move, his hand cupped her left
breast as the other followed her scars. “Oh, baby, I wish I’d been there. God,
I wished I’d been there to stop him.”