The SEAL's Valentine (Operation: Family) (14 page)

“You’re awful,” Brynn said of her friend. “We had a great time. End of story.”

“Uh-huh...” Donna pretended to study yellow marigolds. “Which is why Tristan’s going with you to St. Louis at the end of the month?”

“Strictly for moral support—and of course, to heft luggage.”

Georgia laughed. “That’s my girl.”

“Seriously, though,” Donna said, “you do like him, right?”

On that note, Brynn resumed watering. “It’s not as if Tristan and I are in junior high. Of course, I
like
him, but our lives are more complicated.”

“Well, sure, but—”

“Where’s that baby?” Was that Georgia’s thinly veiled attempt to change the subject?

“She’s inside, napping. I have her monitor.” Brynn tapped the plastic receiver affixed to the waistband of her jeans.

“Such a wonderful invention,” Georgia mused.

“Don’t think I can’t see what you two are doing.” Donna deadheaded a flower with enough vehemence to give Brynn cause for concern. “My whole heart episode has me realizing I’m not getting younger. I need to know Tristan’s in good hands, and Brynn, I like you.”

Brynn set down her spray nozzle to take Donna’s hands. “Thank you, but by your own admission, you’re doing better and Tristan’s not exactly proposing to me. Even if he were, I wouldn’t accept. We hardly know each other.”

“But you’re getting there, right?”

Brynn shook her head...

When her children were grown, would she have Donna’s clarity? The certainty that her child was on the right path? From reading Donna’s postsurgical material, Brynn knew oftentimes patients grew depressed, but Brynn couldn’t be held responsible for Tristan’s mother’s happiness. She was having a tough enough time finding her own.

Chapter Fourteen

A sold-out crowd had shown up to Mack’s game at Busch Stadium. Or maybe just to see the spectacle of his children and widow paraded onto the pitcher’s mound. Forty-six thousand people.

“Mom,” Cayden said moments before the ceremony began, reaching for her hand, “I’m scared.”

“It’s okay,” she assured, holding Mackenzie a little closer. “This’ll all be over soon.”

“Welcome,” the commissioner said into his microphone, “thank you all for joining us on this special afternoon.” He paused a moment while fans cheered. “Today, we celebrate the life of our fallen hero, second baseman, Mack Langtoine.”

As the standing crowd roared, Brynn began to tremble. It started from deep inside and threatened to manifest in tears. Struggling to maintain her dignity, she tuned out the rest of the commissioner’s speech, focusing instead on Tristan. Located far above her in the owner’s suite, though she couldn’t see him, she felt him, imagined him on the field with her, his arms securely around not only her, but Cayden and Mackenzie.

The commissioner continued, “In the past year, this organization has suffered. As have you—our valued fans. I want to assure you all matters of impropriety have been addressed and as this team draws nearer to play-offs, it’s time for healing. For a rebirth of the spirit of goodwill and sportsmanship that help make this game the greatest in the world!”

The crowd exploded with cheers and applaud.

The sun’s heat—the deafening sound—was too much. Still, Brynn stood her ground. These people who threw eggs at her family’s home were now welcoming her back with open arms.

After the mayor gave Cayden the key to the city in his father’s honor, the team owner announced the retirement of Mack’s jersey. The minister of the church she and Mack had attended led the stadium in prayer.

Cayden tossed the ceremonial first pitch, then they were whisked from the field and up into the owner’s suite. The whole thing had taken maybe fifteen minutes, but it felt as though they were reliving the past year all over again. She knew everyone meant well, and many of Mack’s closest friends on the team—including the team manager—told her from the start they’d never believed Mack had done wrong.

Cayden had again taken hold of her hand, at least until spotting Tristan. He then ran to him for a hug.

“Hey,” Tristan said, shielding them from the suite’s other guests, “how are you? Was it as hard as you thought?”

She nodded, fearing if she spoke, she wouldn’t be able to hold back the tears. “C-can you please get us out of here?”

As if computing the most efficient escape route, he looked around, then, hand on the small of her back, propelled her and her children from the stadium.

* * *

L
ESS
THAN
AN
HOUR
LATER
, Tristan had transported Brynn a world away to the museum at the foot of the St. Louis Arch. While Cayden played with interactive history displays, Tristan pushed Mackenzie’s stroller with one hand and with his other, held Brynn loosely around her waist. “Better?”

She nodded, resting her head against his strong shoulder. Exhaustion clung to her as if she’d just emerged from battle. “I’m bone-deep tired. This how you feel after finishing one of your missions?”

“Used to.” He steered them around a covered wagon display. “I’ve done so many, they’ve become routine.”

“I wouldn’t want to ever go through something like this enough times for it to feel normal.”

“Don’t blame you.” He kissed the top of her head. “But know what?”

“What?”

“You looked sexy out there, with that cute sundress swaying around your legs.”

“Tristan!” She landed a playful swat to his chest. “I’m being serious.”

“Me, too.” He winked, snagging her by her waist again to draw her in for the sweetest of kisses. It was the kind of kiss that weakened her knees and coaxed butterflies to flight in her belly. The kind of kiss that restored not only her faith in humanity, but her own future.

* * *

O
N
THE
FLIGHT
FROM
S
T
. L
OUIS
to Dallas, Tristan envied Brynn’s, Cayden’s and even Mackenzie’s ability to sleep.

Typically, he could drift off anywhere, be it in the belly of a C-130 or submarine. Though his body felt plenty tired, his brain refused to shut down.

The weekend brought him closer than ever to Brynn and her kids. It also served as a reminder that he’d already had a family and lost it. What if the same thing happened again? What if he made the ultimate play for Brynn, asking her to marry him, only to have her eventually leave just like Andrea and Jack?

Brynn stirred, shifting to rest her head on his shoulder.

He liked being there for not only her, but Cayden and Mackenzie. They gave him reason to be strong. When his mom was in the hospital, he’d been so afraid she wouldn’t make it. Having already lost his dad, he couldn’t imagine losing her, too. The only thing helping him through was knowing no matter what, he’d still have Brynn and her crew by his side. But considering his career, did he even have the right to ask them to stay with him?

“Sir?” a flight attendant asked. “Can I get any of you a soft drink?”

“No, thanks.”

She smiled, already moving on to the row behind him.

While he hadn’t wanted a beverage, he appreciated her question from the standpoint that at least it had interrupted his twisted chain of thought.

He had to once and for all get Andrea’s poison from his system. Lots of SEALs had amazing home lives. Look at his friends Deacon and Garrett. Tristan being a SEAL didn’t make him a bad guy to be with, but better. No one could watch over this trio like him.

True,
his conscience pointed out, but he’d once believed the same about Andrea and Jack and they no longer wanted his brand of protection.

* * *

“
A
BOUT
TIME
YOU
ALL
GOT
HOME
.”
Despite a steady downpour, Donna’s smile was bright. “I missed you.”

“We missed you, too.” For Brynn, entering the place where Tristan had grown up, with its hodgepodge of furnishings and walls hung with homemade art, surprisingly did feel like home. With Mack’s game behind her, and the St. Louis house sold, she felt renewed, as if anything was possible—including maybe Donna’s dream of Brynn being with her son. The one issue she couldn’t seem to reconcile was the fact that even if she and Tristan did end up together on a permanent basis, would she be any more capable of accepting his job than Andrea? Only not because he was gone a lot of the time—that, she understood. What she feared she couldn’t handle was his being in constant danger. She’d already had one man she loved shot. Not that she was anywhere near loving Tristan, but his kisses had left her in an awful lot of
like.

“Miss Donna?” Cayden crossed his legs. “May I please use your bathroom?”

“You certainly may. It’s just down the hall.” She pointed, and he ran that direction.

“Your color’s better.” Tristan kissed his mom’s cheek.

“I’m feeling better every day. In fact, Brynn, if you don’t mind, could you take me to garden club Saturday?”

“I’d love to.”

“Thanks.” Straightening in her armchair, she tossed off the crocheted throw she’d had on her lap. “Now bring me that baby.”

Watching Tristan’s mom play with Mackenzie, talking to her in a silly, sing-song voice while the baby alternately cooed and grabbed for her reading glasses, filled Brynn with deep satisfaction. It’d been a while since she’d had a mother figure in her life, and the more she was around Donna, the more Brynn enjoyed her company.

“Whew.” Cayden was back. “Thanks a lot, Miss Donna. I thought I was gonna die.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Tristan’s mom teased. “Do you like muffins?”

“Yeah,” he said with an eager nod. “Got some?”

“Cayden,” Brynn scolded.

“What?” he asked, “I figured she wouldn’t talk about ’em if she didn’t have any. Unless you want us to go buy you some?”

She laughed. “Thank you, honey, but I just made a batch. They’re cooling on the counter. Go right through that door to the kitchen and have one.”

“Can I have two?”

“Cayden!” Brynn thought she’d taught her son better. Apparently, they needed to revisit Manners 101.

“It’s okay.” Donna passed the baby to Tristan, then pushed up from the chair. “You can have as many as you want. Come on.” She held out his hand to him. “They’re made with bran, so I’m going to have one, too.”

“It’s nice seeing her with him,” Tristan said once they’d left the room. “She misses Jack as much as I do. She’s a wonderful grandmother.”

“It shows.” Just one more reason Brynn grew fonder of Tristan every day—his dear mom.

* * *

“
A
LL
RIGHT
GUYS
,” C
OACH
Jason said to the Mud Bugs before the last game of the tournament that determined bragging rights for the best little league team in the county. Even for late August, the day was especially steamy and hot. “This is it. If you win today, we’ll move on to the state tourney in New Orleans. How cool is that?”

The team cheered.

Tristan watched the remainder of his friend’s pep talk to the boys from the edge of the field. He had mixed feelings about the game. Of course, he wanted the Mud Bugs to win, but he’d already told his CO he planned on returning to base by September 1. Tuning out Jason, he looked to the crowded stands. Parents and grandparents and friends of both teams filled the regional ballpark’s stands. Out of everyone present, though, Tristan only had eyes for Brynn.

She’d worn the special Mud Bug T-shirt Jason’s wife had made—there was even a tiny one especially for Mackenzie. Both of his girls rocked their white sun hats and jean shorts. Somehow, over the course of the summer, they’d become
his.
He thought of them and Cayden morning, noon and night. He was returning to work not only because he needed the money, but clarity. Maybe time spent away from them would help him ultimately decide if another marriage was right for him.

Brynn didn’t like talking about his leaving any more than he did. And so for the past few weeks, they’d played as if he’d be in Ruin Bayou forever. They’d shared family meals and private kisses and more than anything, he wished they could just go on like this forever. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a lot of call for his line of work in northern Louisiana.

“On three,” Jason said, “all hands in for Mug Bugs!”

After a countdown, the team stacked hands and shouted, “Mud Bugs!”

Despite the heat, the teams played hard.

By the fourth inning, the Mud Bugs and Comets were tied at five. There were already two outs by the time Cayden made it to bat. Tension balled in Tristan’s stomach. At this point in the season, he was pretty sure he wanted Cayden to succeed as badly as the boy wanted it for himself.

“Come on, Cayden!” Brynn shouted from the stands.

“Hit it hard!” Donna shouted, with Georgia chiming in.

“Slam it home, Cay!” Vivian called with Mackenzie hitching a ride on her lap.

Tristan’s pulse was on a runaway course.

With a teammate on third and another on second, Cayden’s expression was one of steely determination. Lips pressed tight, eyes on the pitcher, his stance and hold on the bat were perfection.

“Come on, bud,” Tristan said under his breath. “All you’ve gotta do is swing your little heart out...”

“Strike one!” the ump called.

You can do it...

“Strike two!”

Come on, Cayden. Do it for your dad. Do it for me.

The pitcher wound up and threw a flawless right curve. Countless times Tristan and Cayden had practiced for just this scenario, and now, during the most crucial game of his little league career, Cayden put all that hard work to use by hitting the most amazingly gorgeous home run Tristan had ever seen.

“Yeah!” Tristan shouted as Cayden dashed for first base. “Run, Cayden, run!”

Brynn was laughing and crying.

Georgia, Donna and Vivian, along with every other Mud Bug fan, went nuts cheering for their team.

Now that they’d taken a three-point lead, as long as they played their cards right, it was a pretty good bet victory was near. But honestly, even if they lost, Tristan’s world shone a lot brighter.

When Cayden had run all the bases to home, Jason got to him first, slapping him a well-deserved high five. After his excited teammates had also congratulated him, Tristan lifted him off the ground in a giant bear hug. “You’re amazing! That was the best hit ever!”

“As good as my dad’s?” Cayden asked.

“Absolutely. Your dad would be so proud.”

“Did Mom see?”

“Did she see?” Tristan laughed. “Bud, look up in the stands, she still hasn’t stopped crying. She’s so happy for you. You’re the star of the game.”

“Really?” He looked to the stands in time to catch her wave.

Vivian held up Mackenzie’s little hands to cheer.

“Look at Mac!” He pointed at his baby sister. “She’s funny!” If there was anything that could top a home run in Tristan’s eyes, it was seeing Cayden actually smile and wave back at the baby he’d once so greatly resented.

* * *

T
O
CELEBRATE
THEIR
WIN
—
AFTER
Cayden’s big hit, the Comets fizzled—the Mud Bugs partied at Coach Jason’s. His wife, Trina, had run home after the game to start the grill and by the time all the other parents added side dishes, a karaoke machine and plenty of water toys for the pool, a wonderful time was being had by all.

Brynn sat on the pool steps, helping Mackenzie dip her toes in the warm water. After being too rowdy for the little kids, the boys had been banished to the deep end. “This feels heavenly.”

“No kidding.” Tristan knelt so the water reached his neck. “A couple of times in the outfield today, I wasn’t sure I’d make it.”