Sea of Dreams (The American Heroes Series Book 2) (34 page)

“Hi, Doll,” Sophia sounded happy. “I was calling to see if you and Beck wanted to join Curtis and me for a fundraising gig for Curtis’ hospital.  Lots of big-wigs will be there.  It’s on September first.”

“That sounds like fun,” Blakesley said earnestly. “But I don’t know when Beck will be home. He’s been gone for a couple of weeks now.”

Sophia sighed. “Long time for a newlywed, honey.  I’m sorry.”

“Long time for anyone,” Blakesley said softly, fighting off the feelings of sadness, loneliness and worry. “This is the third time since I’ve known him that he’s been called out. Three times in two months.  I promised him I wouldn’t worry, but I just can’t help it. It just eats at me and he knows it.”

“How does he know?”

“Because I always lose weight,” she said. “He comes back and thinks I look skinnier.  Boy, is he in for a surprise this time.”

“Why?”

Blakesley smiled. “Because I think I’m pregnant.  I’ve been eating like a pig.”

Sophia screeched into the phone. “What?” she howled. “Oh, my God! Blakesley, are you serious?”

Blakesley nodded. “Pretty sure,” she said. “All I’ve done over the past couple of weeks is eat.  I eat constantly and I’ve got that ravenous feeling all of the time.  Remember when I was pregnant with the girls?”

“God, yes,” Sophia snorted. “We couldn’t keep you fed. You were an eating machine.  So I can see that case of condoms we sent to your honeymoon suite weren’t used.”

Blakesley giggled. “No, but the lubricant was, “ she teased. “Thanks for that. It made everything work like well-oiled machine.”

“Gross,” Sophia chuckled as Blakesley laughed loudly. “Well, at least you were all lubed up. That’s what counts, especially on your honeymoon.”

Blakesley was still laughing. “It wouldn’t be a good thing to get chaffed, not with all the screwing we were doing.”

“Too much information!” Sophie exclaimed. Then she sobered. “What does Beck think about a new baby?”

“He doesn’t know,” Blakesley sobered as well. “I only really started putting the pieces of the puzzle together since he’s been gone.   I’m sure he’s going to be happy. I hope so, anyway.”

“Sure he will,” Sophia assured her. “Maybe you’ll have a boy this time.”

“That would be nice, but I’ll take a healthy baby of either sex.”

“No worries,” Sophie said. “You always have beautiful, healthy kids. So, do you know where Beck is?”

Blakesley shook her head. “No,” she said. “He never tells me. He could be on the moon for all I know.  I guess that’s the scary part, not knowing.  He left the day after our wedding and I haven’t seen or heard from him since.  That’s so damn hard.”

Sophie grunted in agreement. “Maybe, but knowing the way his job works didn’t stop you from marrying him. Not that I blame you; he’s a keeper.”

Blakesley’s smile returned. “Absolutely,” she said.  “Anyway, I was just heading out to pick up the girls from summer camp , so I’ll let you know about the fundraiser, okay? As soon as I know something about Beck’s schedule.”

“Okay, Doll. Have a good day. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Talk to you soon.”

Blakesley turned off the phone and headed back to her car, parked in front of the family wing.  She wound her way through the overgrown courtyard between the two wings, looking at the dry fountain and hoping they could get that restored soon. It really was a lovely fountain.  But her thoughts were also lingering on possibly selling the estate to the State of California, something that didn’t set well with her but something that was increasingly of interest.  Maybe it was the thing to do.   She’d give her dad a call and see what he thought.

Blakesley looked at the clock in the car as she turned it on, seeing that she was going to be late to pick up the girls if she didn’t get moving.   Putting the car in gear, she pulled out of the long driveway and out on to the street beyond.  The roads were narrow  in these hills, winding, with plenty of blind curves. 

Blakesley was thinking of the Beck, of the girls, and of what to feed them for lunch when she came around a corner and an old man in a big car who wasn’t paying attention came shooting through the intersection and hit her broadside on the driver’s side.  He had been traveling at such a high rate of speed that he nearly cut Blakesley’s car in half when he drove it clear across the intersection and into a big Eucalyptus tree.

Blakesley never knew what hit her.

***

Night ops were the worst.  In heavy seas and driving rain, under the cloak of darkness, Beck and his troop had made their way onto a Los Angeles Class submarine en route from their successful mission to a very small island in the Philippine archipelago.   Two sailors from Subic Bay had been kidnapped by a local warlord and Beck’s team had spent two weeks scouting the place out before making their move. 

It had been jungle warfare, down and dirty.  Beck had a bullet burn on his forearm but wasn’t any worse for wear as he had freed the two young and terrified sailors.  All insurgents had been killed in the procedure before the Team had faded back into the jungle and headed back for the coastline where their transport wait.

It was the end of a very long three weeks and it would take them another few days to get home.  Beck could already taste Blakesley, his mind full of her for the past two days.  When he was operating, he tried not to let his thoughts linger on her because a distraction could be deadly, but since their op was over, he let her flood his mind.  He couldn’t wait to get home.

The transfer to the sub had been tricky and dangerous, and one of his men had come away with a broken ankle because the sub had been rolling so much.   But once the submarine went deep, the ride was smooth and the men were able to decompress and debrief.  When the reports were written and every round, every weapon was accounted for, Beck fell into a heavy sleep on one of those narrow little beds that weren’t built for a man his size.  Still, it was better than the beds that had slept on for the past several days. At least this one had a mattress.

He was in a deep and dreamless sleep when he heard Davis’ voice.  Groggy but alert, he rolled up at the sound of his captain.

“I’m up, I’m up,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes.  “What’s up, Captain?”

Not only was Davis in the small cabin, but so was Anthony Solis and another veteran S.E.A.L., Commander Bill Hudson.  Hudson, in fact, commanded the second of the three troops in S.E.A.L. team 3, a very seasoned and experienced sailor. Beck had known him for ten years.   When Anthony quietly closed the cabin door, Beck knew it must be serious.  He struggled to shake off the sleep.

“Beck,” Davis said quietly.  “The sub just received a transmission from San Diego. We’ve been out of range for about a day so it just now came through the ultra low frequency exchange.”

Beck nodded. “What’s going on?”

Davis tried to soften the blow.   He had debated whether or not to tell him anything at this point, but he couldn’t, in good conscience, withhold that kind of information.  He knew it was going to tear Beck up, more still because they were at least three days out of Hawai’i, where they would catch a transport home.   It would be at least ninety-six hours before they could get Beck home.  He braced himself as he delivered the news.

“The message was for you,” Davis said, his voice surprisingly gentle for the usually brusque man. “Blakesley has been in an accident.”

The news didn’t register with Beck at first. He was still waiting for some secret missive to come forth, something that would prevent him from getting home to see his wife.  But when he realized what Davis was saying, his eyes widened and his pallor went from a healthy pink to an ashen white.

“Accident?” he breathed. “What… what accident?”

Davis put his hand on Beck’s shoulder. “A car accident,” he said as gently as he could.  “We don’t know any more details other than she was badly injured.  Your father sent you the message, Beck.  The admiral has ordered you home.”

Admiral Seavington.  Beck hadn’t heard his father referred as that in a couple of years, at least since the man retired as admiral in charge of a carrier group. Beck just stared at his captain. He wasn’t sure how to react.  In fact, he was afraid to move because he was afraid he would lose all semblance of control.  He just sat there, frozen, his mind whirling with disbelief.

“He didn’t say what happened?” his voice sounded oddly weak.

Davis shook his head. “Just that she was in a car accident.  The captain has ordered full steam ahead so we should make Hawai’i in a couple of days. We’ll get you back to her, I promise.”

Beck sat on his bunk as if unable to function. He just sat there, staring at the captain. “What about the girls?” he asked, his voice now trembling as the news began to settle. “Did he say anything about the girls?”

Davis shook his head again. “Just Blakesley,” he patted his shoulder. “I’m sure if the girls had been involved, your father would have said so. I’m sure they’re fine.”

Beck continued to stare at him as the others watched with tense anticipation.  Beck wasn’t an emotional man, nor was he known to show much variation from his steady demeanor. But they could see that the news had him reeling.  As they watched and waited for some kind of explosion, Beck reached over into his big black pack, the one that followed him everywhere, and pulled out what looked like a small leather notebook. 

However, when he opened it, they could all see photographs inside.  There were photos of blond girls and women, and he flipped the pages until he came to one particular photograph.   It was a picture of Beck and Blakesley on their wedding day, arms around each other, cheek to cheek as the blue waters of San Diego bay glistened in the background.  Blakesley looked happy and gorgeous, and Beck stared at the picture for several long moments.

“Oh, my God,” he breathed. “This can’t be happening.”

Davis was deeply sympathetic. “We’ll get you home as fast as can, Beck.”

Beck acted like he didn’t hear him.  “It was supposed to be me,” he muttered.  “I was the one who put my life on the line, the one who always had the odds of never making it home. Not her. It was me.”

Davis sat down on the chair next to Beck’s bunk. “She’s not dead,” he said softly, insistently. “The message just said she had been in an accident and was badly injured. She’s not dead, Beck.”

Beck didn’t say anything.  He just continued to stare at the picture.  Then, small splashes of water hit the plastic covering the picture as tears popped from Beck’s eyes.  Davis and the other men in the room couldn’t have been more astonished, which made the sympathy they felt for Beck all the more painful.   The man was shattered.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Beck suddenly whispered. “I don’t want to leave my family anymore. My wife. I don’t want to be away from home anymore.  I want out of this.”

Davis cast a concerned glance at Anthony, at Bill, as he replied. “Beck, I don’t want to lose you but I understand. You’re a man with a family and a lot of responsibility, but don’t do anything rash. I’ll see if I can get more information on Blakesley’s condition for you, all right?  Just hold it together, son.”

He stood up and left the room, giving Anthony and Bill silent instructions to remain with Beck.  When the door closed softly behind the captain, Anthony took the chair the man had vacated.  Beck was still staring at the picture with tears all over his face.  Anthony was all torn up about it. He hated to see such a strong and noble man in such pain.

“She’ll be okay, Beck,” he assured him softly. “I’m sure she’s fine already. It takes time for those messages to get out, so I’m sure that’s old news. She’s probably up and around already.”

Beck was still looking at the picture. “She’s strong,” he muttered. “She’s strong and beautiful and perfect. She was probably driving that damn car too fast like she always does and… oh, God, what am I saying?  I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t mean it.”

The picture book fell to his lap and his head collapsed into his hands.   His low, mournful sobs filled the still air, driving Anthony to tears simply because Beck was so upset. Only Bill seemed in control and that was only because he’d never met Blakesley. He’d never had the chance to see the two of them together.  Still, he hurt deeply for his friend.

As Bill went down to Mess to get Beck a cup of coffee, he found himself hoping that Blakesley Seavington would pull through, or at least wouldn’t pass away while her husband was at sea.  What a horrible thing that would be for Beck.  From what he had heard, Beck and his wife had only known each other a couple of months, yet they were hopelessly and deeply in love with each other.  He’d heard Anthony comment that the relationship between Beck and his wife was the thing all men hoped for in their life but seldom got.  Beck had it all and now, it threatened to slip away.

Bill didn’t even know the woman, yet he prayed for her.

Beck had probably gotten a total of four hours of sleep in the past three days and he was so strung out on caffeine and adrenalin that his entire body was twitching. He hadn’t showered or shaved in days and once the transport from Hawai’i landed at Coronado, he was the first man off the plane.  He bolted as if an invisible lasso had lashed in through the hatch and yanked him out. Anthony and Captain Davis were right behind him.

It was a bright and sunny day outside, the California sky a brilliant blue, but Beck didn’t notice. He was more concerned about dumping his gear, getting to his truck and heading to the hospital.  But a sight on the edge of the dusty tarmac stopped him in his tracks.

Beck Sr. was waiting for him. As Beck disembarked the plane with his bags slung over his shoulder, he could see his father standing next to his car about a hundred or so feet away.  Beck came to a jerky halt about half way across the tarmac, unable to walk any further, terrified that his father had come for him bearing bad news.  He just stared at his dad, his heart in his throat, knowing that his father’s appearance was not a good thing.  He tried to take another step but his knees buckled and he went down hard on his right knee.  That brought his father, and several other men, running in his direction.