Thanksgiving Daddy. Rachel Lee

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Thanksgiving Daddy - Rachel  Lee Conard County: The Next Generation

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to this man was growing. Being alone with him once had been a major mistake. One she didn’t want to repeat.

      “There’ll be time,” he agreed. “But first I’d like to lay some groundwork. Areas we can discuss, what areas you’ve put off-limits. And of course I need to know how to find you. I’d hate to rattle the bars at Headquarters Air Force, especially since they’d want to know why.”

      She looked away from him, trying to clear her thoughts, to organize things. “I’m keeping the baby, obviously.”

      “You thought about it, I assume.”

      “I did. I’m off flying status and tied to a desk. I hate it. And I’m looking at the end of my career dreams because I’m not just going to dump the kid on somebody else so I can racket around the world.”

      He remained still. Then he said, “I appreciate that.”

      “What?”

      “That you’re not dumping the kid. That you won’t. I was adopted.”

      “Your mom told me. How do you feel about that?”

      “I had good adoptive parents. I never felt a lack, until they died. Then it became paramount to track down my real parents. I can’t quite explain why, but I understand it’s not unusual for adopted kids to feel a real need to find their birth parents.”

      “I never considered it. I got a lot of pressure from friends to have an abortion. It’s just not in me.” Why she felt she needed to say that, she wasn’t certain. Maybe because she suspected he might be wondering why she hadn’t just dumped this “little problem.” So many of her friends had wondered.

      “I’m glad you decided against it.”

      “You’d never have known. And it’s too soon for you to be glad about anything.”

      “Perhaps.” He studied her as if she were a puzzle. She probably was to him. “How soon do you have to go back?”

      She was tempted to lie, but she never lied. So she told him the truth, even though it might be a mistake. “I just started a month’s leave.”

      “Then, if I can persuade you to hang around, we have time to talk and work out some things.”

      “What things? Just what, Seth? I can take care of this baby.”

      “I believe you. But have you considered the baby could have a father around, at least once in a while? If you judge me fit, anyway. I’ve never tried my hand at it, and as you know, my background isn’t exactly preparation for fatherhood.”

      An odd thing happened then. It was as if a new picture overlaid an old one. Somehow Seth went from being a SEAL—rough, rugged, tough and hard to the bone—to a man who felt some uncertainty and vulnerability.

      “Oh, crap,” she said. She didn’t want to see him that way. The other version had been safer for her.

      “What?” he asked.

      She couldn’t answer him. She might be mistaken anyway. That was something only time would prove or disprove. “Nothing,” she said. “Look, I don’t want any pressure. Not for me, not for you. If you can promise me that if I stay I won’t get any arm-twisting, I guess I can stay for a few days.” She owed that to the baby. At least that’s what she told herself.

      “I can promise I won’t,” he said. “As for my mother, I’ll do my best.”

      In spite of herself, Edie smiled faintly. “She was ready to adopt me.”

      “That’s her, all right. I’ll tell Dad to keep her at bay, and I’ll do my best. She has a huge heart, though. It’s not always easy for her to put it on a leash.”

      “I could see that.” She liked Marge, but she didn’t want the woman trying to decide her life. “I’ve already had enough arm-twisting. From friends, from superiors who warned me I was killing my career.”

      “Superior officers said that?” He looked disturbed.

      “They pussyfooted around it, but the message was there. Take care of this little problem and stay on track.”

      “That was out of line. But I guess they wanted to see you succeed.”

      “Evidently. But as I’ve been coming to realize, there are other kinds of success. When my maternity leave is over, I’ll probably move to a training position.”

      “Well, you have those all-important theater ribbons,” he said. “Probably a stack of medals, too. They might keep you going. I’ve seen a few guys go far on a lot less, because of their connections.”

      “Yeah. I’m short on the connection department. And I’m not a man.”

      That still made a difference. She was bucking a system weighted against her and she knew it. Making full colonel was probably her limit.

      She looked down and realized her hand cradled her stomach. “I’ve lost my waist,” she remarked. “I still don’t show a whole lot, though.”

      “You don’t show at all in those cammies. Boy or girl?”

      “Boy.”

      He smiled. “Well, I should at least know how to talk to a boy.”

      “You can say that with six sisters?”

      He laughed. “I’m still learning.”

      She felt her lips twitch, and laughed, too. This hadn’t turned heavy or ugly as she had feared. He was trying so hard to put her at ease, and he was succeeding. She felt herself uncoiling, relaxing, no longer poised to defend herself. Amazing.

      She felt a need to change the conversation, too. The baby had been obsessing her in so many ways for so long that she needed a break. The worst was over, at least for the moment. Time for a breather. “So you’re renovating a house?”

      “Remodeling, really. The couple who lived there before owned it for forty years, and at some point they stopped keeping up. It’s outdated, but sound.”

      “I take it then that you retired?”

      “You bet. No desk for me.”

      “How’s that working out?”

      He laughed. “I can’t seem to stay busy enough. I’m used to go-go-go. Work hard, play hard and work some more. It’s a change. I could work as a deputy, but I’m not sure I’m ready for that. Or even that it’s what I want. I’m kind of up in the air a bit.”

      She could get that. She still had her job, yet often felt that way. Somebody had picked up the jacks of her life and tossed them in the air.

      Well, to be fair, she had done the tossing and she couldn’t even blame a couple of drinks too many. She had been neither drunk nor hungover when she’d had sex with Seth. She’d rolled the dice and lost, with nobody to blame but herself.

      Getting used to the idea that this loss might turn into a win had taken

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