SEALs of Summer 2: A Military Romance Superbundle (76 page)

January, 13, 2010. Day after…

T
he morning sun
dried the sweat on his back as he jogged up the hill in Petionville. The driveway to the hotel was steeper than he remembered by taxi. His legs and lungs burned, screaming for relief. He pressed on. Almost there.

Rounding the corner, he came face-to-disaster with the remains of the Hotel Montana.

“Holy shhhhit!”

It was going to take a second to grasp what he was looking at. The sheer massive size of the wreckage was mind-blowing. Slowly, he walked up the paved drive to what used to be the entrance of the four-star hotel. It looked like the hotel had exploded.

Tico had been right. Five stories had pancaked one on top of the other, creating a monstrous white mound of concrete. Metal jutted out of what he imagined to be railings from balconies, like the one he was standing on last night, before the earth tried to rip itself in two.

A British tourist taking pictures of the mess walked up behind him. “Unbelievable, right? I was staying there.”

“So was I,” Luke mumbled. Glancing around, he noticed people walking around in shock. He completely understood. It was hard to wrap his brain around what he saw. “Who’s in charge here?”

The man seemed not to hear him. “I’d been at the Iron Market, trying to buy a trinket to send to my mum. Couldn’t find a thing. I’d just gotten into the cab when the quake hit. The entire Iron Market, all of it, collapsed before my eyes. And now this.” He made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “Unbelievable.”

“Do you know who’s in charge?”

“No, man.” He took a few more pictures saying, “Un-freakin-believable.”

Yes, it was. His woman was inside that disaster. And he had to find her.

A policeman yelled at a group of teens to back away from the destroyed building. The teens snatched something from the wreckage and took off running.

Luke sprinted toward the officer. “Excuse me.”

“What do you want?” The officer said gruffly.

Luke suspected that the officer was barely eighteen, just a kid and probably scared out of his wits. “To help.”

Studying him from head to toe—taking in the scrapes, the dried blood, the torn pants, and caked-on filth—the young cop said, “No hospital here. See a doctor in town.”

“No.
I
don’t need help. Listen…” he combed his fingers through his hair trying to find the right words. “I’m an American. I have extensive search and rescue skills and medical training. Let me search for survivors.”

“I don’t know, man. The Search and Rescue teams don’t arrive until tomorrow, but Haitian police force can’t handle this. We don’t have the manpower or the means…” The officer’s shoulders sagged. If possible, he looked even younger and far more frightened. The immensity of this disaster was kicking his butt. “I’m supposed to keep looters away from the scene. That’s all…but…” He looked around to see if anyone was watching. “…my roommate, Lupe, is a bartender. He’s inside. Tomorrow is a long time from now. Do what you can. Please.”

Luke put his hand on the young cop’s shoulders. “Do you have any tools?”

*

Armed with a
flashlight, a crowbar, and a sledgehammer, Luke walked around the building. Where to start? How to begin?

The cop had said the Search and Rescue teams wouldn’t arrive until the next day. Nearly forty hours after the hotel caved-in? He understood it would take time to mobilize teams from all over the world, but he couldn’t bear the thought of Ysabeau being in there a second longer. She was afraid of the dark and terrified of being tied down. He had to get her out.

He walked around the building slowly, studying it, trying to find a way in. There were tiny cracks, here and there, nothing man-sized. He’d have to find the right spot and sledge-hammer his way in.

It was intensely quiet. No bird sounds, no talking, no honking horns, nada. He imagined the noise had been ear-shattering at four fifty-three yesterday. Had Ysabeau screamed? Did she know what was happening? Was her life taken in five seconds?

Suddenly, he knew he couldn’t do this. It was too big, too horrific.

He was one man.

Even if he hacked away at that dead hotel for ten years, he wouldn’t make a dent. He was weak, and tired, and so damned petrified. Sickness and anguish seized him. His stomach flopped and bile rose into his throat. He stumbled away from the hotel, making it to the bushes before he vomited. Wiping his mouth, he stood up and looked at the Montana Monstrosity.

He was one man.

And Ysabeau needed him.

Screaming her name, Luke Carter hefted the sledgehammer and began.

*

Ysabeau shivered and
hugged herself in agony. The pain was back and as intense as it ever was. Having chills was not a good sign. She might be going into shock. Digging inside her purse, she pulled out the Vicodin and hoped it didn’t put her to sleep. She needed to listen for rescuers to save Marisol’s life.

“Marisol? Please, say something,” Ysabeau had been calling the woman for several minutes. She hadn’t heard any sounds in a long time. Her heart sank.

Had Marisol passed out? Worse?

She took one pill with a tiny sip of water and laid her head down to rest.

When the pain started to ease back, Ysabeau fumbled in her purse again and found the granola bar. She was really hungry and knew it was important to keep her strength up. With shaking fingers, she tore open the wrapping and took her first bite.

Mmmm.

It had to be the best thing she’d ever eaten. She savored each bite, making it last. Having no idea if it was night or day, she called this breakfast. Of course it would be a million times better dipped in cocoa and accompanied with two fried eggs. Her mouth watered.

What she wouldn’t give for a piece of chicken right now.
Bless Deolina for trying to shove half a chicken in my purse. I should have let her.

Her mind was fluid and misty.
The Vicodin
.

Suddenly, she thought of the breakfast Luke made for her. So sweet of him to cook for her and Gran, even if he did burn the eggs. Smiling, she let her mind linger on his image. The way his blond hair stuck up on one side in the morning. How his deep blue eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. The intensity in those eyes when he gazed at her. The heat of his lips.

She shivered again, only this time it was deeper as if he’d kissed her soul.

Luke was a beautiful man who let her rest on his shoulder when sleep wouldn’t come and fought endlessly to save his daughter. He laughed hard and loved deeply. He even stood up to Gran! A perfect, perfect man. He had lied to her, yes, but she understood his reasons and should have forgiven him on the spot. Now it was too late.

Her throat tightened.

All of her life she had longed for a man with a good heart and a passionate soul. She’d been lonely forever, searching for love, never finding it. It was impossible that Luke had come into her life less than two weeks ago. It felt like she’d dreamed him, but she knew God made him for her. And now…

She pressed her trembling lips together.

Where was he? Did he have food and water? Was he safe?
Please God, make him be okay.

“Oh, Luke,” she cried.

A woman’s voice faintly came through the cave’s wall. “Ysabeau?”

“Marisol! Thank God,” her voice was slurred. The Vicodin was taking over.

“You do not sound good.”

“I’m…okay. Please talk to me. About…anything.”

“All right. You live here in Port-au-Prince, no?”

“Born and raised. Used to think I’d never live anywhere else.” Her mind drifted to the day Luke had asked her to come to California with him. She didn’t think she could leave her homeland, her people, but now…now it sounded like heaven.

“Something has changed?”

Luke.
He’d changed her. “I’m…open…now.”

“Where would you live if not Port-au-Prince?”

“San Francisco,” she whispered. She’d do the best for her patients first, then she’d go. If Luke would still have her.

She heard Marisol gasp. Was she okay? Was she trying to be brave, keeping her pain a secret as Ysabeau was trying to do?

“It is beautiful. San Francisco,” Marisol said quietly.

Ysabeau’s eyes were heavy. It was a struggle to keep them open.
Fight this. Stay awake
, she ordered herself. “You’ve been?”

“I lived there with my husband and child for many years before…” her voice trailed off.

Ysabeau closed her eyes unable to fight the pull to sleep anymore. She was tired. Very tired. She couldn’t…

“Fall is the best time to be in the Bay Area.” Marisol’s voice opened Ysabeau’s eyes. “The fog goes away and the water sparkles sapphires and diamonds. You must go, Ysabeau, and stay through fall. You must! Promise me you’ll go.”

“I…want…to.”

“Bueno. Everything will be all right. San Francisco is a romantic city.” Marisol sighed. “You will fall in love.”

“I already…am.” Ysabeau drifted into sleep and dreamed of Luke Carter.

*

Luke felt the
weight of two hundred lives on his shoulders as he pounded that sledgehammer into the concrete. His arms were burning with fatigue, his legs and back stiff, as he swung that sucker with all his might. He longed for some real equipment, like a crane to pull this crap off his girl. There were no cranes, or bulldozers in sight. No one had come to help him.

Every few minutes, he’d stop and call her name. Then he’d listen for a while and start the process over again. Even if he couldn’t hear her voice, he hoped she could hear the sound of his sledgehammer and know that he was coming for her.

He’d never stop.

*

“Ysabeau! Do you
hear that?” Marisol’s voice crept into her sleepy brain.

“Whaa—?” Ysabeau mumbled.

“Someone’s out there!”

Ysabeau forced her brain to focus.
What sound? What sound?
And then she heard it. Tapping from above. Marisol was right.

“Help! Help us!” Marisol screamed.

“Hey, hey! Help us!” an American man yelled.

“We’re down here!” another cried.

“We hear you! Keep tapping!” a third said.