The SEAL's Christmas Baby Page 4

  “Welcome to Cedar Lodge,” a plump woman behind the reservation desk said. She was dressed like Mrs. Claus, complete with a cap on her head and little wire-rimmed glasses. “And happy holidays to you, sir.”

  “Same,” Preston said, gazing around at the numerous candles everywhere and the Victorian-themed displays. There must’ve been fifty Christmas trees in the lobby alone and twinkling white lights seemed to cover every conceivable surface. Wasn’t necessarily his bag, but more power to them, he supposed. “I have a cabin reservation for Fleischer, please.”

  “Certainly, Mr. Fleischer,” the woman said, taking his credit card. “I hope your trip to get here was pleasant.”

  “It was fine, thanks.”

  “Good.” She handed him back his card, then typed a few things into her computer. “Okay, Mr. Fleischer. We’ve got you all set up in cabin twelve. You’ll head straight down the road here, then make a right at the giant Santa display. Keep going until you hit the end of the road and that’s you on the right. Clean bedding and towels and firewood are all provided in the cabin, as is bottled water. There’s also a flat screen in the cabin, though we don’t get very good TV reception up here, especially this time of year. Wi-fi is spotty out there too, though it’s pretty good here in the main lodge.”

  “That’s fine. I plan to spend most of my time outdoors anyway.”

  “Good man.” She handed him a key to the cabin and a brochure of the events at the lodge. “Three meals a day are served here in the lodge restaurant, or there’s cookware, plates and silverware in the cabins as well, if you prefer to cook yourself. We’ll be having a Christmas Eve party here in the main lodge also, if you’re interested. Details are in the brochure. Anything else I can do for you, Mr. Fleischer?”

  “No, thank you.” He smiled at her then headed back out to the Rover again. The snow was picking up now and he wouldn’t be surprised if the roads got slick later. His mood darkened a bit. He might’ve grown up in Coronado, where you could surf pretty much every day, but he’d spent more than his share of time in the snow the past three years. Tracking terrorists through Siberia and beyond was like a crash course in polar survival. Reminding himself that he was here to relax, he did his best to push the memories away.

  Following the woman’s directions, he turned right at the behemoth inflatable Santa grinning down at him from the side of the road, then headed for his cabin. Each moment he spent here was like a trip down memory lane. An odd ache started in his chest and it took him a moment to realize it was nostalgia. He remembered driving down these same roads with Lila that long-ago summer, laughing and kissing and cuddling.

  She probably didn’t even remember him now.

  His heart pinched at the thought, but it was for the best. He’d let her go back then and it was a good thing, too. Their lives had taken very different paths than he’d ever expected. His certainly had.

  Preston stopped the Rover at the dead end of the road and looked over at the log cabin to his right. He got out and opened the back of the SUV to start unloading his stuff, then glanced at his surroundings, a sense of déjà vu hitting hard. No wonder this all seemed so familiar. Cabin twelve was right next door to the cabin he’d shared with Lila three years ago.

  Fine. It was fine. He wouldn’t be around the cabin much anyway, so no sense getting all maudlin about it. As a ghost—a man with no past or future—you learned quick not to become too attached to anything, including your emotions. Best to keep those under lock and key.

  He pulled out his duffle and carried it up to the cabin porch. Unlocked the door and went inside. Housekeeping must’ve turned the heat up and left a few lights on for him because the place was toasty warm and the pine floor and walls all but glowed beneath the overhead lights. The cabin felt homey and inviting, just what a world-weary guy like him needed.

  After putting his stuff in the master bedroom, he went back out to the Rover to get his skis and boots from the back, then returned a third time for the groceries he’d bought. He’d just unloaded the last of the bags when the sound of a child laughing echoed through the air. The snow was falling a bit harder now and created a sort of mist around the place, making it hard to see across the hundred or so feet between his cabin and the next.

  Preston slammed the back hatch of the Rover closed and started back toward his cabin for the final time, only to stop short as a figure emerged around the corner of the next cabin. For a moment, he thought he must be imagining that the woman had the same long blond hair and curves as Lila. She had on a pink down jacket and held the hand of a tiny boy who looked maybe three.

  The child laughed again, and Preston couldn’t help smiling. Nothing like a kid to bring home the true joy of the season. The woman bent to say something to the boy then straightened and looked over to where Preston stood halfway between the Rover and his cabin.

  His pulse stuttered and time seemed to slow. No way. There was no way he’d traveled all this way, been through so much, only to come face to face again with the one woman he’d never forgotten.

  She stopped about twenty feet away from him, her blue eyes wide with shock. The little boy was looking up at him too, big brown eyes blinking.

  “You,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “You can’t be here.”

  Training over how to deal with anyone who recognized him from his past had taught him to play off any resemblance she might’ve seen as coincidence, but his heart had other ideas. He’d been alone for so long, too long. And he and Lila had always had such a strong connection. That invisible thread between them pulled tighter now, vibrant as ever, urging him to tell her the truth and to hell with the consequences. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again.

  No. He couldn’t tell her the truth. Too many lives were at stake. Besides, he looked different now. Longer hair, scruff on his jaw. Different enough to pass himself off as a stranger. He turned away and kept walking toward his cabin, hoping she’d let it drop.

  No such luck.

  “Wait!” Lila said from behind him. “Preston?”

  His heart clenched at the sound of her saying his name, just as sweet as he remembered. He closed his eyes and forced himself to continue up the steps to his porch. He lowered his voice, made it rougher. “Sorry, lady. You’ve got the wrong guy.”

  Preston walked into his cabin then locked the door behind him, the weight of her stare still tingling on the back of his neck. He carried the bags into the open kitchen area then set about putting the groceries away, not daring to look out the window again until he was finished.

  Through the gathering dusk, he could see the warm glow of lights on in her cabin, but the image that haunted him was of her standing in the snow, staring back at him with her face pale and her eyes huge, looking like she’d just seen a ghost.

  In his case, she had. From her expression, she’d obviously heard about his death, and was shocked and confused. What she didn’t understand was that the Preston she’d known truly was dead and gone. He’d have to make sure she understood that, no matter how difficult the next three weeks might be.

  Six

  Lila stood for a long moment staring after the stranger she could’ve sworn was the man she’d loved and lost. But that wasn’t possible, was it? Preston Lawson was dead. The chaplain had told her that.

  Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling she’d just seen a ghost.

  Parker was still running around in the snow behind her, squealing and having a great time, oblivious to her inner turmoil. He was twenty-seven months now and more of a handful every day. While it was sometimes a struggle to handle things alone when Parker was throwing the veggies he didn’t like on the floor or demanding that she read to him the same book about five dolphins swimming in the sea over and over again, the wonderful moments with her sweet, sunshiny baby definitely outweighed the harder ones. Her son was what she loved most in the world and the fact he’d be ready to start pre-school in a couple of months made these days more precious than ever. She al
so wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.

  No, that wasn’t true. There was one thing she would change.

  She glanced one last time at the rocking chair on the porch of the cabin next door to hers, creaking as it wobbled in the wind, then at the closed door beside it before returning to making a snowman with Parker. Having Preston by her side through all this would’ve made life perfect. But perfect wasn’t real.

  Real was the bite of chilly air on her cheeks, the squeals of delight from Parker as they played in the snow, the certainty that no matter what happened now, things would get better. Better because she’d work hard to make sure they would. She had repaid her loan, gotten Sal off her back, and she now had enough money in her savings to live comfortably for the next few years, if she was frugal and smart. Long enough to figure out what career to pursue—what kind of life to build with her child as a little family of two.

  “Hey, buddy,” she said to Parker, dusting the snow off her gloves. “What do you say we go inside and have some hot chocolate?”

  The little boy nodded, the red puffy balls hanging at the ends of the ear muffs attached to his hat flopping around his face. “Grill cheese, too?”

  Lila laughed. His language skills consisted mainly of three words sentences and he still had trouble with his “d”s sometimes, having them come out more like “t”s, but overall his repertoire of words was growing every day. She had to watch herself sometimes because he picked up most everything she said, even the bad stuff. She reached over and brushed a few stray flakes off his cheek. “Yep, grilled cheese too.”

  After a kiss on his nose, she straightened and took his hand to lead him back inside. Once she’d gotten them both out of their winter gear and had Parker occupied in the living room with a coloring book and crayons, she went into the open kitchen to start the cocoa and dinner. Through the window above the sink, she had a view of the cabin next door. The lights were on inside and the golden squares of light reflecting through the snowy evenings reminded her of all those old cheesy Christmas card scenes.

  As she took out a pan and began getting the sandwiches ready to go onto the stove, she caught a shadow moving around inside the other cabin and her mind was drawn back to what had happened earlier. The guy wasn’t Preston. Couldn’t be, no matter how uncanny the resemblance was. And yet…

  While the grilled cheese sandwiches sizzled away and the milk for the cocoa boiled on another burner, Lilia imagined what it might’ve been like if the man had been Preston. What would she have done? How would she have reacted?

  Maybe he would’ve come up behind her. She might’ve heard twigs snap and whirled around. Looked up to find his watching her, his hands in his pockets, his face as familiar as the day he’d left her behind.

  She leaned against the counter, stirring the milk absently as she pictured herself straightening slowly on shaky legs as he walked toward her, his hands out now, palms up and open as if he had nothing to hide. Would she have grabbed Parker and run away, or would she have stood her ground? Her chest tightened with phantom anger. No. If there had been some mistake—if Preston wasn’t really dead and had shown up here, out of the blue, without any warning, after letting her mourn for three years…she would’ve been pissed. Even now, knowing it was all a fantasy, furious tears stung the backs of her eyes. Things had been hell after that day she’d learned he’d died. She’d struggled, big-time, just to keep her head above water. She’d had nothing and no one as she dealt with a difficult pregnancy, and then later, she’d had a baby to take care of. For him to have shown up now, with no explanation, would have been a slap in the face. She took a deep breath and flipped the grilled cheese over to brown the other side and moved the milk off the burner so it wouldn’t scald.

  No. The reality was Preston was gone and it was better things stayed that way. She sighed and measured cocoa mix into two mugs, a plastic one for Parker and a regular one for her, then added the warm milk.

  “Mommy?” Parker said, wandering into the kitchen. “I’m hungry.”

  Her toddler’s voice jarred her from her thoughts and Lila grabbed two plates from the cupboard by the sink and served up the grilled cheese sandwiches. “Dinner’s ready, buddy. Have a seat at the table and mommy will bring it right over, okay?”

  “Okay.” The little boy wrangled one of the heavy pine chairs out from the table and scrabbled up on top of it. She had a booster seat for him in the car, but most nights her son preferred to sit on his knees to eat, “like a big boy”, he said. Another battle she chose not to fight these days.

  Before taking his food over to him, she let it sit out a minute to cool. She also managed to sneak a few baby carrots on the plate amongst the pretzels. Veggies were a necessary evil for a growing kid and carrots seemed to be the least offensive to Parker right now.

  “Here you go, buddy,” she said, setting down his plate and mug in front of him, then tucking a napkin into the collar of his long-sleeved striped cotton shirt. “Dig in.”

  “Thanks, Mommy,” he said around a mouthful of bread and melted cheese.

  “You’re welcome, baby.” Lila sipped her cocoa and glanced through the window one more time, spotting a glimpse of the man next door through the window. His gaze met hers and that spark of recognition inside her flared brighter before he lowered the blinds in the window, shutting her out once more.

  She was being silly. Or maybe she was going stir-crazy. After her hectic life in San Diego, being out here in the middle of nowhere had been fine for the first week she’d been here, but now there was just a whole lot of quiet. She’d read through the books she’d brought in three days. There was TV, but nothing worth watching, and her satellite radio was spotty up here in the mountains.

  There was a good possibility her brain was just making all this up to give her something to think about.

  Lila nibbled on her sandwich and stared out the window again at the snow falling while Parker chattered on about the picture he was coloring in the living room. The lights in the other cabin went off and she assumed the guy was going to bed.

  Huh. It was still early. Not even seven. Not that it was any of her business. He was a stranger. He could do what he pleased. And if he just happened to look exactly like the man she’d loved and lost, well then that was her problem, not his.

  The sooner she got that through her head, the better off she’d be.

  Seven

  Exhausted as Preston was after the long drive to the cabin, sleep eluded him that night. He tossed and turned, unable to get the unexpected reunion with Lila out of his mind. Jesus. Of all the places to run into her again after all this time. Just the sight of her had made him want to pull her into his arms and…

  No. He rolled over onto his side and punched his pillow with way more force than was necessary. He’d done the right thing by walking away. She’d obviously done fine without him all this time and crashing back into her life now wasn’t an option. Not with his secret missions and secret identity. And not with a child in the mix either.

  A child.

  My child.

  His heart tripped as he pictured the little boy playing in the snow, a kid with his dark hair and big brown eyes. He’d never imagined having a family of his own, not now certainly. Maybe after he retired, if he ever retired. Until then, the job required everything he had. But now…

  With a groan, he flopped over onto his back again and stared up at the ceiling in the pre-dawn gloom. He’d thought going to bed early the night before might make all this turmoil go away. He’d been wrong. All it did was give him more time to think, more time to stew over his past mistakes and his uncertain future. How could he ignore his son? And yet what right did he have to reach out? He never knew where he’d be from one week to the next these days, if he’d even be alive at all. He was a man with no past, no name, no future. He had nothing to offer Lila or his child.

  And yet…

  A yearning stronger than any he’d ever known welled up inside him. He’d lost his own parents
when he was just a child, and had been raised in a series of foster homes that had offered him precious little by way of love or affection. Those scars still lingered inside him, even after all this time. That neglect, that rejection. To put his own child through that same awful emotional torture of not knowing his father was unthinkable.

  Dammit.

  Preston tossed the covers aside and strode naked to the bathroom, taking a quick shower then shaving and brushing his teeth before returning to the bedroom to pull on a pair of clean jeans and a black sweater. He’d been in sticky situations before, but this one topped them all.

  On the one hand, he could go against his orders and tell Lila the truth about who he was. She’d already sort of guessed the day before and it wasn’t like she’d tell anyone. He padded out to the kitchen in his bare feet to start a pot of coffee. On the other hand, though, he wasn’t sure how she’d react to finding out he was still alive.

  Once the coffeemaker beeped and he’d filled a mug, Preston leaned his hips back against the edge of the counter and stared across the living room to the windows in the far wall of the cabin. Her place was just across the way, maybe a few hundred feet. The other cabin was still dark from what he could see. She was probably still in bed. So was his son.

  His chest ached at those words and he rubbed the spot over his heart. His son. Preston couldn’t suppress a small smile at that. He had a kid. Wow. But he also had Lila. Lila who would probably be pissed as hell when she found out the truth, especially after he’d lied to her yesterday. Lied to her for years about being dead.

  Shit. Just shit.

  In the end, his honor wouldn’t let him keep silent. James might skin him alive for even thinking it, but dammit, Preston owed Lila an explanation. Owed his son a chance to meet his father, if only briefly. Owed the kid the knowledge that his dad loved him and cared for him, even if he wasn’t around.