The SEAL’s Convenient Wife: Hartsville’s SEAL Heroes Book One Read online

  “Let’s see. Your dad’s in the Navy, right? Maybe you could make a ship out of construction paper together. I think I have a good pattern for that. Help me look.” She took the girl to a bin stored on a shelf, and they sorted through various projects until they found one that would work. “How long has it been since you’ve seen your dad?” she asked gently as they located sheets of colored paper.

  “Long time,” Ellery said softly. “He wasn’t here at Christmas.”

  Imogen knew from experience that the softness could shift to defiance in a heartbeat if Ellery was approached the wrong way. Imogen was beginning to understand how complicated the situation with Ellery’s parents was, and her heart went out to the girl. She hoped something could be worked out with Patrick Nelson. She’d learned more about the man since their brief encounter earlier in the week. He was a SEAL who’d just returned from overseas.

  She’d had a moment of fear when she’d told him Ellery was in foster care, a moment when she thought an explosion was possible, but he’d clamped down on his reaction. Apparently, he’d headed directly to CPS to sort it out. She had to give him credit for that. It didn’t appear that he intended to be a deadbeat dad, although he had been an absent one.

  She glanced out the window and saw Mr. Nelson crossing the lawn in front of the school. Imogen felt a fresh wave of nerves about her role in this. She had good reason not to get involved in anything messy. Her principal had promised to be around in case she needed support, since it was a Saturday afternoon and the building was mostly empty.

  “I think he’s here,” she said to Ellery, and the girl’s face instantly brightened. “Do you want to meet him at the door?” Without hesitation, Ellery skipped toward the classroom door. As soon as her father appeared and saw Ellery headed his way, he dropped to one knee and opened his arms. Ellery careered into him, throwing her arms around his neck and seeming to melt against him.

  One question answered, Imogen thought, with a smile. There was a real connection between them. The love was obvious. They stayed that way for a long minute, which gave Imogen a chance to study the man. Earlier in the week, she’d noticed his dark good looks and height, especially when he’d sat on the little chair in her room. Any trace of defensiveness or anger was gone as he held his daughter. This was going to go better than Imogen had anticipated.

  “We’re going to make a ship,” Ellery announced as she wriggled away from her father. She took his hand and led him to the workstation they’d set up with construction paper, scissors, glue, and crayons.

  “It’s good to see you again, Mr. Nelson,” Imogen said when he looked at her.

  “Call me Patrick.” His face was serious, and maybe a little nervous. “Thanks for doing this.”

  “Imogen, then, and you’re welcome,” she said, giving him a little nod of acknowledgment before returning to her desk to grade papers and do lesson plans while father and daughter played. She was to stay in the room and observe but not interfere unless she felt it was necessary. She did have to suppress a giggle when Patrick contorted himself to get in the chair next to Ellery.

  Over the next half hour, Imogen listened in on the conversation between them. They’d managed to cut out the ship while talking, but Patrick clearly didn’t understand the purpose of crafting with a kindergartner. She shook her head as she heard him once again insist on a methodology for completing the project. He was focused on getting the task done and was missing the true reason for working together on it. He was supposed to be listening to his daughter. Ellery was trying to tell him about her foster parents’ goldfish, the play the kindergarten had just put on for the school, and how she won the balloon toss at the field day. He was only half hearing his daughter’s rambling stories. Imogen had to bite her lip not to say something. It was clear to her that while they might love each other, they hadn’t spent much time interacting. That was a problem.

  “Don’t play with the glue,” Patrick said for the third time. “I’ll do that part.” His voice had become more commanding with each repetition.

  Wrong approach with Ellery, Imogen wanted to warn him, since he apparently hadn’t figured that out.

  “I want to,” Ellery said, her tone becoming increasingly petulant.

  “Do as you’re told,” he declared, as if speaking to a subordinate.

  Uh-oh. Imogen looked up from her desk in time to see Ellery lunge for the open bottle of glue. The girl grabbed it, flinging glue across the desk, her father, and her own face. Ellery screamed as the glue got in her eye, and Imogen leaped up from her desk.

  * * *

  Patrick wrapped his arm around Ellery, automatically rocking her to comfort her as he wiped glue from her face with his fingertips. He’d been stunned by Ellery’s rapid shift from sweetness to temper tantrum and now to wails and sobs.

  “Here, try this.” Imogen held out a wet wipe.

  “Thanks,” he said, trying to clean Ellery up without upsetting her more, but the girl still squeezed her left eye tight shut.

  “Let me,” the teacher said, kneeling at Ellery’s other side. Without hesitation, Ellery transferred to her and allowed the teacher to gently open her eye and put drops in it. “Close your eyes now. It’ll be better in a minute.” Imogen held the girl so her head was tipped back, letting the drops work. Imogen gave him a small smile while she murmured soothing words to Ellery.

  His daughter responded by burrowing closer into the teacher. Patrick sat back, feeling a little lost and a lot sad. He’d have liked Ellery to turn to him in such a situation, but he had to admit he’d never earned that from her. While he wanted to put all the blame on Rachel, he’d been part of the problem. He hadn’t been around except for short stints. And even when he was stateside, he hadn’t set up his place so he could bring Ellery there for long visits—and Rachel had never welcomed him into her home so he and Ellery might have had a chance to get comfortable with each other.

  No. He was at fault here. He’d known what Rachel was like; it had been on him to control the factors he could control. He could have tried harder, pushed the issue, and known his daughter better. And the truth was that even now, if he got custody of Ellery, he’d still have to leave for extended periods. How the hell was he supposed to manage that? His daughter needed someone like Imogen, who appeared to instinctively know how to care for a child. Someone Ellery could turn to when she needed comfort.

  “Better?” Imogen asked, looking down at Ellery’s face. “Open your eyes, pumpkin.”

  Ellery’s eyes popped open, and she grinned up at Imogen. “I’m not a pumpkin.”

  “Are you sure?” Imogen teased the girl. “How about an apple?” Ellery shook her head. “A green bean?”

  “Yuck,” Ellery declared, wrinkling her freckled nose. “I don’t like those.”

  “You’ll learn to when you’re bigger, but you know what we have to learn first.” Imogen put the girl on her feet, flicking away a glob of glue that clung to her shirt.

  “Nope.” Ellery shook her head.

  “I think you do.” Imogen gestured to the mess across the tabletop and on the floor. “What’s rule number one in Ms. Mendel’s class?”

  “Clean up your mess,” Ellery chanted.

  “That’s right,” Imogen said. “And as a special Saturday treat, your dad and I will help. Go get the trash can from over by the door, please.”

  Ellery skipped toward the door with no argument, making Patrick wonder again at the ease with which the teacher managed the child. Was she some kind of miracle worker? He studied her, wondering if he could imitate her behavior.

  “Here’s a note,” Ellery said from the door as she scooped up a white envelope. Without ceremony, she ripped it open and pulled out a sheet of paper.

  “Ellery,” he warned. “I’m sure that’s not for you. You don’t open other people’s things.” For a moment, he thought his daughter was going to stick her tongue out at him. Her face was pure belligerence. Instead, she gave him a haughty look and delivered the paper and envelope to Imogen.

  “Here you go,” Ellery said in a sweet-as-pie voice.

  “Thank you for bringing this to me, but your dad is right.” Imogen flipped the envelope over and showed it to the girl. “See? This has my name on it. M-E-N-D-E-L.”

  “There’s no Ms.,” Ellery argued.

  “Well, sometimes people forget that part,” Imogen explained. “Go help your dad clean up. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  While Ellery headed back to get the trash can, he couldn’t help watching Imogen. She truly was amazing with kids, and she was far prettier than he remembered any kindergarten teacher being. That thought fled his mind when he saw her expression as she scanned the note. She turned pale, and her hand covered her mouth as if holding in a scream.

  “Something wrong?” he asked, sensing a threat. Out of habit he did a quick scan of the room, checking outside through the windows, but he saw no apparent danger except for whatever was in that note.

  “What?” Her voice was distant, as if coming from deep inside her.

  “The note,” he insisted. “Is it bad news?”

  She gave herself a little shake. “No, just… um… unexpected is all. Let me just…” She carefully folded the note and walked to her desk, where she opened a drawer and stuffed the note into it. For a second, she kept her focus down and rested her hand on her stomach like she was going to be sick. Then she lifted her head, her hazel eyes meeting his, and one thing was clear. All the life and vitality had gone out of her. What the hell did that note say?

  “Recycle?” Ellery’s question echoed loud in the quiet classroom. She held up two different bins.

  “Yes, that’s fine,” Imogen said, finding a smile for the girl, “since it’s mostly paper.” Imogen returned to his side and acted as if
everything was fine. He didn’t have the right to question her further, as much as he wanted to. But she’d been kind to him, and he wanted to repay her if he could. Even if this was no time for him to take on someone else’s problems. He had plenty of his own.

  3

  Patrick drove home, unlocked the front door, and dropped his keys in the tray in the entry. He loved this little house that he’d inherited from his grandmother. It was more of a cottage, with three small bedrooms upstairs and living space down. The location, though, was the winner. It was at the end of a lane, with woods nearby for country walks.

  As a kid, he’d explored those woods and tromped mud into the house. He could almost hear his grandmother’s voice scolding him gently. Sometimes he thought he caught the scent of the gingersnaps she’d made just for him. Slowly, he’d been making the place his home, but remnants of his grandmother remained, such as the lace curtains on the long windows and the rooster-themed decorations in the kitchen. He’d always felt welcome there, felt like he was part of a family.

  Except now. He felt empty without Ellery, to a point that surprised him. Sure, he loved her—she was his daughter. But he’d never really focused on what that meant. He’d never thought about what he was taking from both of them by going on with his life for the most part as if she didn’t exist. She’d only ever been in this house for an occasional overnight stay while he was on leave. Those occasions had been few—and that was on him; he hadn’t made any effort to change the situation—giving them little opportunity to truly get to know each other. That failing had been obvious in Imogen’s classroom, and he regretted every missed chance to be with Ellery. He had so much to make up for if CPS let him.

  A car door slamming in the driveway caught his attention, and he drew the curtain back. With a grin, he stepped onto the porch to welcome his brother, who’d texted earlier to suggest having dinner together. Todd leaped up the steps and gave him a bear hug, slapping him hard on the back.

  “God, it’s good to see you,” Todd said when the hug ended.

  “Same,” Patrick responded, feeling more emotional than he usually did. He and Todd were closer than most brothers, a product of their upbringing. They rarely spoke of their mother, who’d abandoned the family when Patrick was eight, and Todd only two. She’d died shortly after she left. That experience had made their bond tight, with Patrick taking on extra responsibility for his younger brother. Their dad had been a good man, doing the best he could by his sons, but he too had died young. Five years now. It seemed like forever.

  “I’ve got pizza and beer in the car,” Todd said. “Let’s eat on the porch.” He headed back to his car, opening the rear door and pulling out a pizza box and a six-pack.

  “Beer? Shouldn’t you be studying for finals?” Todd was a few weeks from graduating college with a degree in communications.

  “Love you too, bro.” Todd grinned at him, giving his usual response when Patrick tried to tell him what to do. Todd placed the pizza box and beer on the table between the porch rockers. “Sit down and relax.”

  Patrick sat, knowing it was pointless to try to resist his brother’s attempts to care for him. Sometime in the past few years, Todd had grown up and decided he needed to help Patrick the way Patrick had helped him when they were younger. The problem was, Patrick wasn’t good at being mother-henned.

  “It’s so awesome here.” Todd sat in a rocker and propped his feet on the railing before cracking open a beer.

  “You’re always welcome, except when you’ve got studying to do.” Patrick shot him a look and reached for a slice of pizza.

  “Relax,” Todd said, chugging half his beer. “My classes are going great. I have two exams and one project to complete, and then I’m home free. You’re coming to graduation, right?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it.” Patrick resisted the urge to nag Todd about his schoolwork. It was second nature to look out for him, but he knew there was nothing to worry about, since Todd made the dean’s list every semester. “Any job prospects?”

  “A couple. I had an interview with Alden Electronics. They have a PR position open that would be a good fit for me, I think. And I’ve got another interview next week with the hospital for assistant director of their community outreach program.”

  “Both local? Are you looking elsewhere?” Patrick asked, worried that Todd had too limited of a scope.

  “A little,” Todd said, “but I don’t know about moving.”

  “This is the time to go see the world, little brother. Get out of Hartsville,” Patrick said, reminding himself that his experiences had been very different from his brother’s. He’d gone straight from high school to the Naval Academy to SEAL training. After which he’d been to the corners of the globe, which he enjoyed—even if he wasn’t seeing the usual tourist attractions.

  Todd chuckled. “That’s you. Not me. I like it here. Small-town life suits me, and I’m more of a homebody than you are.”

  “Think about it,” Patrick encouraged. “It doesn’t have to be permanent; you can always come back. But you should try living in a big city or a different part of the country.” Patrick hoped Todd’s reasons for wanting to stay in the area were genuine and not attached to a sense of responsibility to him. He didn’t need anyone looking out for him.

  They ate and chatted, Todd catching him up on local news and what was going on with shared acquaintances. Patrick gave his brother a cleaned-up, declassified version of what had been a shitshow of a mission. When the sun started to sink toward the horizon and the pizza was almost gone, Todd changed the subject to the one that Patrick had been avoiding. He knew Todd had probably wanted all the details as soon as he arrived, but he’d let Patrick eat first. One more example of Todd trying to be the caretaker.

  “I’m so sorry about Ellery,” Todd said. “I had no idea what was happening with her. Poor kid.”

  “Not your fault,” Patrick said. Even if someone from the local police department or CPS had connected with Todd about Ellery, he’d have had no legal right to claim her. Just another thing Patrick had mismanaged when it came to his daughter.

  “Maybe, but I was only an hour away. I could have helped her or at least tried to get a message through to you.”

  “I doubt you’d have been able to reach me, and you had your classes to manage. You couldn’t be responsible for a six-year-old.” Patrick didn’t want Todd beating himself up over this.

  “She’s one of the few people in the world I’m related to. I’d have done anything for her,” Todd said, reminding Patrick that perhaps his brother had a better grasp on family than he did. He’d shirked his parental responsibilities until the situation had hit a breaking point.

  “You can help us both now by completing the mountain of paperwork CPS requires. You and Anderson are my character references, so I’m sorry to say they’re probably going to crawl through your background as well as mine.”

  “They won’t find anything objectionable other than a few speeding tickets,” Todd said. “What happens after that?”

  “The team from CPS assesses everything about me and Ellery starting Monday. They’ll check my service record and talk to my commanding officer. I have to see a psychologist for an evaluation, and so does Ellery. And if all that goes well, I’ve got a shot at custody.”

  “Sounds like a pain in the ass,” Todd said, “but it’ll be worth it in the end.”

  “That’s my takeaway, too.” He tried to sound calm, but he wanted this process over and done with so he could bring Ellery home and start building a relationship with her.

  “How’d today’s visitation go?” Todd asked. Patrick was surprised that it had taken his brother so long to get around to that question.

  “All right, I think. We met in Ellery’s kindergarten classroom with the teacher as our supervisor. We tried to make a ship out of paper and really just made a mess. She’s grown so much since I saw her last.” Ellery must have added three inches in the past six months, and there was something about her attitude that was different. Maybe a little hardened by her experiences, sadly.