The Seal's Second Chance Baby

“I did not,” Marsh said.

“Aren’t you mad at him?” Her son had already taken his new Batman backpack from the van and now wore it.

“Nah.” Marsh ruffled the boy’s hair the way Moody used to. “I figured he was just protecting his land the same way I would mine. Make sense?”

“I guess?” Colt cocked his head and frowned.

Wallace cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but me and Miss Mabel have some mighty exciting news.” He slipped his arm around her slim shoulders. “Don’t we, darlin’?”

Mabel beamed. “We sure do.”

Much as they had at the hospital when their grandparents had been fighting, Effie shared a look with Marsh. Was he as confused as she was?

“Look here.” Marsh’s grandfather took Mabel’s hand, waving it for all to see. A massive diamond solitaire glinted in the setting sun. “Effie, honey, your gorgeous grandmother has agreed to marry me.”

“What?” Effie pressed her hands to her galloping heart.

Marsh looked ready to topple over.

“You heard right,” Mabel said. “We’re getting married! And we want the two of you to be our best man and maid of honor.”

Chapter Four (#u9158c7d8-4d56-5213-92d8-5a766be00fab)

“Wait...” Marsh fought the temptation to conk the side of his head to check for something in his ear, because surely he hadn’t heard right. “Did you just say you’re getting married?”

“Isn’t it exciting?” Effie’s grandmother gushed. “And since neither of us is getting younger, we want to hold the ceremony right away—but with enough time to do it up right.”

Her beaming groom slipped his arm around her waist and the two shared a kiss.

Lord...

Marsh sneaked a peek at Effie and found her looking as bewildered as he felt.

“Grandma,” she said, “and Wallace, I’m thrilled for both of you—really, I am. But don’t you think this is a little sudden? At the start of the week, you hated each other.”

Wallace waved off her concern. “Like your grandmother said, at our age, there’s no sense in putting off till tomorrow what should be done today.”

“Mom?” One of the twins tugged the bottom of Effie’s pretty floral shirt. “Do married people share beds? ’Cause my friend Scotty said—”

“Gosh, Colt.” Effie clamped her hand over her son’s mouth and steered him toward the coop affixed to the side of the barn. “I’m pretty sure you and your brother forgot to feed the chickens this morning.”

Remington thankfully followed.

Marsh struggled to hold back a laugh. But then he thought of his grandfather’s upcoming honeymoon night and wanted to cry. How was it fair the old guy would soon be seeing more action than him?

“Ready to set our big date?” Wallace asked his bride.

“Absolutely.” Mabel was already heading for the house. “I’ve got one of those big bank calendars on the side of the fridge.”

“Perfect.” Wallace took her hand to walk her into the house. It was a damn shame his grandmother had held tight to her grudge for so many years. Wallace clearly had an abundance of affection to share with no previous outlet. Maybe this marriage was a good thing after all?

“Quite a turn of events, huh?” Effie tucked her hands in the back pockets of faded jeans that hugged her in all the right places.

“No kidding.” Marsh tried not to notice the strain her pose placed on her shirt’s pearl buttons.

“How are you doing? Let’s get you off your feet and out of the sun.” She led him toward a bench in the barn’s deep afternoon shadow.

“Better now.” He hated feeling as if his normally strong body had betrayed him. Upon sitting, he released a long sigh. “Crazy, isn’t it? How a critter no longer than my arm put me out of commission.”

“If you think that’s bad, don’t mess with a brown recluse. When I was a nursing student—”

“Hold up—you’re a nurse? No wonder you took such great care of me.”

“No. Not quite.” She leaned against the barn wall and lowered her gaze. “I, ah, dropped out just before my last semester.”

“That sucks. Not that it’s any of my business, but why?”

“Long story. Let’s just say I caught a bad case of bull rider fever that led to an even more serious condition called marriage.”

“Uh-oh...” He nodded. “I can relate—only the other way around.”

“I’m sorry. Wallace told me the highlights—or I guess that would be lowlights—of what happened. Sorry doesn’t seem adequate.” Initially, Marsh had been irked by the fact that his grandfather had shared his private pain with a stranger, but for the instant it took Effie to cover his hand with hers, and he glanced up to find her blue-green gaze shimmering, his annoyance faded into appreciation for this woman who’d done more for him in the past week than his ex had in the past three years.

“It’s okay.” He stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned back. “I mean, clearly, it’s not, but you get the picture.”

She nodded and swallowed hard. “I can’t imagine losing your son. You must have—”

“Stop.” He straightened. “That’s not a part of my life I care to hash over, so could we change the subject?”

“Sure. Sorry. I never meant to—”

“Damn, it’s hot out here.” Since she apparently hadn’t gotten his earlier memo, Marsh stood. “Wonder when this heat’s going to let up?”

He made the mistake of looking her way, only to find her big blue eyes once again shining. Swell. If there was one thing he couldn’t abide more than heat, it was a crying woman. Unable—or hell, maybe just plain unwilling—to make more small talk, he nodded toward her grandmother’s ragtag house. “I’m gonna see what’s keeping Wallace.”

Instead of waiting for her to acknowledge his statement or even follow him, Marsh took off. Over the years, Wallace had done a lot of crazy things, but this engagement took the proverbial cake to a whole new level. Marsh was partially pleased as punch for the old coot, but another part of him knew if the planning constantly threw him and Effie together, the next weeks could be rough.

The whole reason he’d come Colorado was to avoid people. Since losing Tucker to drowning and then his wife to a spectacularly civil divorce, Marsh hadn’t been himself. A few months after the ink had dried on their papers, he’d been in Afghanistan watching a terrorist cell. He’d witnessed them strapping a bomb around the chest of a boy who couldn’t have been much older than his son and lost it. Marsh had been on a strict intel-gathering mission that soon turned into a bad-guy bloodbath. He’d come damn close to being court-martialed for failure to follow orders, but by God, that innocent child had survived. Reuniting him with his mother had been one of the few times since losing Tucker that Marsh had felt alive.

Now? Hell, most days he wasn’t sure what he felt—if anything at all. Truth be told, that snakebite had been a blessing if only for the fact that it had shaved a chunk of time from his life when he hadn’t had to think about what happened to his marriage and son.

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING, guilt churned Effie’s belly, because she actually felt relieved and a trifle giddy about waving goodbye to her rowdy twins, who had just climbed on the school bus. It had been a long summer, and later, she looked forward to planting her behind on one of the front porch rockers to linger with Cassidy over a nice cup of tea.

And if her thoughts strayed to the proud, handsome, clearly heartbroken man to whom she would soon be related by marriage?

The unspoken question warmed her cheeks.