The SEAL's Second Chance Baby (8 page)

Effie waved, then coaxed Cassidy, “Wave goodbye to your brothers and Mr. Marsh.”

The infant waved her chubby arm and hand, drooling through a grin.

The sight of mother and child tightened Marsh's chest. On autopilot, he returned the little angel's wave, but he felt lost inside. How many times had Leah coached Tucker into the same action? Each time Marsh had damn near popped with pride over his clever son. Finding joy in another child's skills made him feel almost traitorous to his son's memory. Then there was what he felt for Effie. Part appreciation for the unexpected richness she and her children had unwittingly brought to his life. Part affection for the role she'd played in nursing him back to health after his bite. Part attraction for the woman in her that made him crave more than chaste brushes against her curves or merely holding her hand.

He wanted to push aside her ponytail and nuzzle her neck. Would she taste sweat salty? He forced the thought from his mind. This was neither the time nor place—not that there would ever be a right occasion for putting the moves on a woman who had enough of her own problems and sure as hell didn't need to be saddled with his.

Effie and Cassidy went inside, and once Marsh told Remington he'd done a good job with brushing both ponies, he scampered into the house, as well.

An hour passed, and though Marsh couldn't wait to taste Effie's meal, there was no way he was budging. As much as he was testing Colt, the boy was also testing him.

Marsh felt bad for not brushing Whiskey, but right after his sponge bath, he'd taken a dust bath, then trotted off for a visit with his favorite mare.

The sun was setting, and the night's first coyote howled.

Colt said, “If that coyote eats me, my mom's gonna be
real
mad at you.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

“You don't care if I get ate?”

“Oh—I'd care a lot if you were eaten. I don't want your mom mad.”

“Then you better let me go.”

“Are you ready to do what I asked without pitching a fit?”

The quiet night was parted by coyote yips.

“Maybe?” Colt's gaze darted toward the west pasture.

“Good. Since your brother already took care of your pony, I'll need you to fill the trough and apologize to me and your brother and both ponies, and also to your mom and little sister.”

“What'd I do to them?” He kicked the ground with the toe of his dusty boot.

“Scared her with all your noise.”

“Those stupid coyotes scare me all the time, and they don't say sorry.”

“Good point, but since they can't talk and you can, I expect better from you.”

“Sorry. But I still hate you.”

“Fair enough.”

“Sorry, ponies. I love you.”

“As long as you're good to them, I'm pretty sure they'll love you, too.”

“I don't know how to put in the water.”

Marsh rose. “I'll be happy to show you.”

Once the trough was filled, Marsh had Colt help get the ponies into their shared stall for the night, and then they walked to the house. “Before eating, don't forget to apologize to your brother, mom and sister, okay?”

“I will! You don't
hafta
remind me.”

Marsh contemplated scolding him again for this latest outburst but figured the kid had had enough for one day.

They walked in on a happy family setting. Wallace was recounting one of his old oil-field stories—a G-rated one—and Mabel hung on his every word. Effie and Remington sat with their heads together over a math workbook, and Cassidy had more finely chopped spaghetti on her face than in her tummy.

For a moment, even though Colt charged ahead, Marsh clung to the living room's shadows. He used to be part of a vibrant family. His parents and cousins and aunts and uncles back east were always having Leah, Tucker and him over for meals. Back on base, his SEAL team formed another close-knit unit. Now he felt like a stranger looking in. Sure, he and his grandfather were close, and he would soon be related by marriage to everyone else assembled, but what did any of that really mean? Ever since losing his family, he'd longed for nothing more than to once again feel part of something bigger than himself.

But at what cost?

Sure, he could surrender his heart again—not necessarily to Effie and her crew—but would he survive potentially losing it? Moreover, for allowing his son to die on his watch, did he even deserve the privilege of being loved or loving another child?

Chapter Eight

“Sorry, Mom. Sorry, Cass. Sorry, Rem. Can I eat now?”

Effie glanced up from Remington's math homework to find Colt looking dirt smudged and anything but apologetic, but she supposed this was at least a start.

“Thank you for the apologies, and please wash your hands and face. The bathroom's right down the hall.” She pointed him that direction.

Marsh entered the big country kitchen, then washed his hands at the sink.

“How'd you get him to come around?” Effie asked.

“I didn't. Coyotes did.”

Wallace chuckled. “Count on a few good howls to put the fear of God in little tykes. Your mama used to love catching fireflies, but the second she heard a yip, she'd run for cover. She is coming to the wedding, right?”

“Last time I spoke to her she was checking if she could get away for that date. Dad, too.”

“Good, good. But they'll make it, right? You'll talk to them?”

“I'll see what I can do.”

Effie cleared her throat. “Marsh, how about you take a seat, and I'll fix you and Colt plates.”

“Sounds good. Thanks.” His slow grin flip-flopped her stomach. He'd removed his cowboy hat for their meal, and even though his longish hair was a rummaged-through mess, he was still too handsome for a girl to think straight. Tossing in the fact that he'd actually wrangled an apology from her obstinate son made him all the more attractive.

“Marsh,” Mabel said, “I'm not sure if I mentioned it, but you and the groomsmen have a tux fitting at Pearl's Bridal at two, Saturday afternoon. She special orders all of her suits from Denver, so it shouldn't take long to take the measurements.”

He pulled out a chair at the table. “It's between the feed store and flea market, right?”

“That's the one. It's pink, so you can't miss it.”

“Grandma,” Effie said, “what are you doing about your dress? You've got almost everything covered but what you're wearing.”

“True.” Mabel took a slice of garlic toast from a basket in the table's center. “But does an old woman like me really need anything fancy?”

“Damn straight,” Wallace said.

“Gramma, I'll make you a dress,” Remington said.

“Aren't you a sweetheart,” she said to her great-grandson. “Thank you, darling.”

He beamed.

“I've got the boys' bank field trip tomorrow, but we could go dress shopping Friday.” Effie set warmed plates in front of Marsh and Colt, who'd returned from the bathroom with still-dripping hands. Effie used a dish towel to dry them.

“Marsh,” Wallace asked, “where are you in regard to finding our girls a new ride? Thought I told you to get them a loaded SUV with all the bells and whistles?”

“Wallace—” Effie erased Remington's wrong numbering sequence in his math workbook “—you're a doll to make that kind of offer, but we couldn't accept. Besides, my old minivan works just fine.”

He snorted. “
Fine
might be good enough for some folks, but not for me. Once Mabel and I start traveling, neither one of us will sleep a wink knowing you're back here with car worries.”

“But it's never given us a lick of trouble.”

“For
now
...” he said with a lift of his bushy eyebrows. “But what happens a few months down the road? Everyone knows once winter hits with a vengeance, car batteries are notoriously cranky.”

“Listen to him,” Mabel said. “For heaven's sake, the man wants to buy you a brand-spanking-new car. Why don't you let him?”

“It's the principle of the thing.” As could all too easily become habit, she looked to Marsh for support. “Help me out here. Tell your grandfather not to toss his money around to strangers.”

“I could tell him,” he said with a wry smile, “but that doesn't mean he'll listen.”

“It's settled.” Wallace thumped the table hard enough to rattle the mismatched plates, cups and saucers. “Effie, my dear, I understand this week is plumb full up, but next week, Marsh is taking you into Colorado Springs for a new ride. End of story.”

The man was offering her a new car. The van had one hundred and eighty thousand miles. What was her problem? Maybe the fact that Moody had been bad about telling her what to do. Or then again, maybe she felt a sentimental connection to that old car. During lean times, she and Moody had practically lived in it, and all three of her kids had been brought home from the hospital in it. In ways, that van was the last of an era to which she wasn't quite ready to say goodbye.

“Slow down there, Gramps.” A warm flush filled her at the prospect of Marsh jumping to her defense. “Effie's a grown woman, and if she says she doesn't want a new car, you should respect her wishes.”

“Not if they're stupid!”

Mabel gave him the stink eye. “Did you just call my granddaughter stupid?”

The boys turned their heads back and forth as if they were at a tennis match.

Cassidy focused on her cookie dessert.

Rocket, the cat, sat beneath her licking up all that the baby dropped.

“Oh, now look what you've gone and done,” Wallace complained with a grumble. “There's no sense in everyone getting all riled up. Mabel, my love, maybe I'm not calling Effie stupid, but slow. I mean, who turns down a brand-new car?”

“That's it.” Mabel slammed her napkin to the table. “Boys, find a dishrag to clean up your baby sister, because it's high time for us to go.”

“Honey bunch.” Wallace left his seat to help her up from hers. “Don't go getting your panties in a wad. Let's talk this out.”

“Nothing more to say.” She wrenched off her massive ring and pitched it at him. “The wedding's off. Wallace Stokes, I always knew you were a darned fool, and now it's been confirmed. Just because you're a handsome devil doesn't give you the right to tell my sweet granddaughter what to do.”

To the twins, she said, “Hustle. And please grab my reusable shopping bags off the counter.”

To Effie, she said, “I'll meet you in the van.”

“Mabel, wait!” Wallace chased after his ex-fiancée.

Effie caught Marsh's gaze and couldn't help but crack a smile. “Are those two crazy, or am I the one a few apples shy of a bushel?”

“The two of them are certifiable.”

“Wait,” Effie teased, “did you just call my grandma crazy?”

“Guilty.” Grinning, he held up his hands in surrender. “What's my punishment?”

“A kiss.” She covered her mouth with her hands. “Sorry. I can't believe that popped out. Whenever my ex and I used to play fight, the loser owed a kiss. Guess it's been a while since I flirted with anyone—not that I was flirting, or we were. You know what I mean, right? How as couples you get into a routine and then at the oddest times, you feel transported back, like nothing changed—only everything changed.” She covered her blazing cheeks with her hands. “Listen to me. I must sound cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.”

“I want Cocoa Puffs,” Colt said while swiping a wet dishrag across his sister's sauce-covered hands. “I love cereal!”

“Me, too,” Remington said.

Effie had expected Marsh to run from her, but he instead stepped closer and closer until she got the impression he might intend to kiss her. The boys and Cassidy were right there with them, yet for all the bustle and little boy chatter, everything faded but the cowboy of whom she never quite seemed to get her fill. Her pulse galloped, her breathing slowed and her body welcomed whatever he might have to offer, but no way was she emotionally ready.
Right?

“Effie, I...” He inched toward her, and when their gazes locked, it produced a flutter low in her belly.
OMG
—was he going to kiss her? Did she actually want him to? He now stood mere inches away, close enough for her to imagine every strong inch of him radiating against her soft curves. “I'm...jeez, I'm really sorry about my grandfather's ham-fisted tactics.”

“It's okay. I'm not sure why I got so upset over a sweet old guy wanting to give me a car.” She forced a smile.

Marsh backed away.

But she'd been so certain he'd be doing anything but talking with his sexy mouth that when he didn't kiss her, it took a moment to regain her bearings. What had she been thinking?

Clearly, she wasn't!

Sure, she and Moody had shared affection in front of the boys, but they'd been husband and wife. She and Marsh were—well, for lack of a better word, they were
nothing
. At best, casual friends—not in the least bit romantic. So why was her pulse still racing?

“Ew!”
Colt had run to the front door with Mabel's bags but now returned to the kitchen making faces. “Grandma and Grandpa Wallace are kissing!”

Effie found herself sharing another look with Marsh and couldn't help but laugh.

“Guess she'll be needing this?” she asked after plucking her grandmother's engagement ring from the kitchen floor.

“Looks that way.”

The once again happy couple strolled through the front door.

“The wedding's back on,” Mabel said. “And Effie, Wallace has something he'd like to say to you.”

Effie raised her eyebrows.
This should be good...

“Angel, you may not have noticed, but it's been a while since I was around ladies, and I forget that I can't just bark orders. I genuinely apologize for
ordering
you to get a new car, but please know that from the bottom of my heart, I want you and your precious cargo to be safe and secure. I've got more money than I know what to do with, and it would make me a happy man to see all that cash do some good before I'm gone.”

Wallace's from-the-heart speech welled tears in Effie's eyes. Compelled to hug him, she did just that. “In that case, thank you, and I accept.”

“Perfect.” He clapped his hands. “Maybe we can all go on Saturday and make a day of it? Kill two birds with one stone by grabbing a car and a wedding dress.”

“I don't wanna kill a bird!” Remington started crying.

Which made Cassidy cry.

Which made Effie say, “All right, I think it's past some folks' bedtimes, and a certain little lady still needs a bath.” She kissed Cassidy's sticky cheek.

After a round of goodbyes, by the porch light's glow and crickets' chirps, Marsh and Wallace helped carry bags and sleepy boys to the van, then got everyone buckled in.

Effie was behind the wheel with the motor running when Marsh approached the window.

She lowered it. “What's up?”

“I wanted to tell you to drive careful. And thanks again for the laughs. It felt good.”

“I know, right?” There went her pulse again. He'd pressed his open palms against the door frame, which raised his T-shirt enough to bare a strip of skin and his wholly masculine happy trail. Mouth dry, she forced her gaze to his eyes, but that didn't do much to help stop the tingly awareness that lately, more often than not, took hold whenever he was around.

“Anyway, good night, Effie.”

“'Night.” The sound of her name pronounced nice and slow with his hint of a Southern twang produced all manner of havoc in her belly. If she hadn't been crammed into an old minivan that smelled like Cheerios with her grandmother and a pack of kids, would he have kissed her?

Forcing her focus on the drive home rather than the carnal drives that kept cropping up, once Marsh backed away, then waved, she smiled before aiming the van for home.

“Is it just me?” Mabel fastened her seat belt. “Or is that boy sweet on you?”

“Grandma,
really
?” Effie cast a sideways glare. How did Mabel know what she'd been thinking? Was it that obvious that she harbored a secret anti-crush on their neighbor?

“Would that be so bad? He's handsome and all alone. You're pretty as a picture and far from alone. Looks to me like a match made in heaven.”

“Looks to me like you may have had a little too much of Wallace's homemade wine. Oh—and here...” She fished Mabel's ring from her sundress pocket. “You forgot it on your fiancé's kitchen floor.”

“Oops.” Mabel giggled. “That man does have a way of chapping my hide. But he also makes my heart sing.”

“I'm glad. It's nice seeing you happy.”

“You know what would really make me smile?”

“What?”

“Seeing you just as happy. Should we shoot for that double wedding?”

Effie laughed, then glanced at Mabel. In the dash light's glow, she was shocked to find her serious. “You're not joking?”

“Hon, I don't mean to get in your business, but when's the last time you were good and thoroughly kissed? Trust me, a little nooky does a body good...” Mabel might have winked, but Effie rammed on the gas pedal.