Hunter's Heart (18 page)

Two ponies, each carrying squealing children riding bareback, thundered past. Laughing children and a pack of barking dogs in various sizes followed behind. “Was that a goat?” she asked, leaning to get a better view.

Sienna laughed. “Yes. Poor thing thinks she’s a dog.”

“They’re having such a good time,” Celia said as the group disappeared around a copse of trees. “Is it always like this?”

“Yeah. More or less. We wanted the kids to have the kind of childhood we had. Simple. Have a safe place to be kids. Pete grew up here. This was his grandfather’s home. Then his dad’s. Career Navy guys. There was a lot more property. We sold some to make improvements and buy all the toys in the garage….” She laughed. “And
pay for food
. Pete wanted me to home school. Ha! That was a big N. O. He didn’t understand why until I was out of town for a week. After two days, he had half the team over helping—and we only had four kids then.

Celia swallowed. “How many do you have now?”

“Five, and don’t worry, it’s not catching. Come on.” Sienna circled an arm around hers, leading her to the sofas where the other women were talking.

Celia noticed a large gray dog—at least she thought it was a dog—lying on its side near the fireplace. A child of around three lay draped on top the hairy beast, sound asleep.

“Doesn’t the dog mind that?”

“No.” Trudy laughed. “Pops brings him to play with the other dogs. Wiley’s old and I think he welcomes the break from all the kids and young dogs.”

“What did Hunter tell you about us?” Jenny asked.

Well that was to the point. “He said nothing about any of you, in particular. Only you’re all special. Life is hard for military wives. SEAL wives, more so. What you endure.”

They fell silent. She frantically reviewed her words. Had she said something to offend them?

“Might as well get this out now,” Sienna said. “You’re the first woman Hunter has brought to one of these. He’s taken plenty of grief about it.
He
says he would never bring anyone here unless it was serious. Spill woman. Is it serious?”

“Before you say a thing,” Barbara said, “be aware there is one female here who will be angry you’re taking Hunter from her.”

Holy hell.
He hadn’t said anything about a former girlfriend. Wait, all the women here were with someone.

“My five-year-old, Darla,” she clarified. “She’s the one with the curly black hair who took his hand. She’d been in love with that man since she was three. If she tries to bite you let me know.”

Celia was the only one not laughing.

“So is it
serious
?”

“I…It could be.” Hunter told her there would be no-holds-barred questions from the women that would be far rougher than the men’s teasing. He was right.

“Bambi thinks it is.” Everyone, including her, turned to look at Amanda. “Well.” She shrugged. “He does.”

All eyes returned to her.

“You have any idea what this life is like?” Sarah, the LT’s wife asked, studying her.

“Some.” She hoped the women didn’t catch the lie. She was beginning to understand she had no idea what
life
of any kind was like. “I find it hard to justify the man I’m coming to know, and see out there,” she said, tipping her head the direction of group, “with what he does.”

“Doll, every man out there is like that,” Di said.

“Time out,” a male voice bellowed. She turned to see Kirk running past with a toddler in his outstretched arms.

“Equipment change,” he said, grinning.

Page laughed. “That sounds better to him than diaper change. I know what you mean Celia.” Page’s tone went serious. “When that man’s home he changes every diaper and has tea parties with our daughter. Does everything he can with the kids to make up for when he’s away. Everything he’s seen and been is pushed out of his head.”

“When they’re with us, we’re one kind of family,” Barbara spoke up. “Make no mistake, when those men out there are together, on a job, they are a whole nuther kind of family. Closer than we can imagine and one we can never fully understand.”

“A lot of women can’t handle it. Some of us here are seconds,” Jenny said.

“Seconds?” Celia didn’t understand.

“Second wives. Divorce rate in the teams is wicked,” Natalie said, joining them.

“Bug says his first marriage was like a tornado.” Jenny paused until all looked her direction. “A lot of blowing and sucking—
then,
he lost his house.”

Everyone laughed and she joined in.

“No one’s fault,” Trudy said. “Some gals can’t handle the stress of knowing their man has a good chance of coming home from a job in a body bag. Knowing when he goes to work he puts his life on the line to rescue someone or to protect a county that doesn’t appreciate what he does.”

Despite the warm afternoon, those words sent chills skittering over Celia’s shoulders and arms.

“Better they do leave,” Kate said, “so our guys aren’t worried about what’s happening at home when they’re away. Their heads have to be where they are, not worrying about us.”

Sienna laughed. “Yeah, they leave, and guaranteed every appliance in the freaking house shoots craps. One of the kids has to have surgery. The men can’t do anything about it where they are. So….” She shrugged. “We don’t tell them. But we sure as hell bitch to each other.”

“When they’re home we do normal stuff like this,” Sarah said.

Everyone nodded.

Sienna gestured to the chaos on the lawn. “If you can call what’s going on out there normal.”

“I’ve been on my own a long time,” Celia said, now understanding these women were vetting her to join their SEAL family.

Kirk, with the child in his arms, ran past, heading in the direction of the hoots and laughter.

“With the big family of Hunter’s so close, you won’t have to worry about that,” Kate said. “Wish that were the case for us. Mike’s family is in Hawaii. Mine’s in Washington State. I don’t know what I’d do without these ladies.”

“That part doesn’t bother me. It’s….”
Big family close by? What the hell?

“Where are you from?” Kate asked, making lazy circles on her belly with a hand.

Celia looked at the women scrutinizing her, waiting for her answer. What if their approval was required? Those fucking fear tremors rippled out from her core. She’d never shared a moment of her childhood with anyone but Hunter. She gripped the hem of her shorts to prevent them from seeing her hands shake. Yes, she’d share with them. Gain their confidence. Then she’d probe for information about Hunter’s
big family that lived nearby
.

She took a dramatic breath. “I’m an immigrant. A Croatian. The better part of my childhood was spent moving from one place to another, avoiding bombs and gunfire.” The hated memories of the cold, begging for food, hiding in rubble, and being alone tried to take over her brain.

“Oh, hon.”

“Your family?”

“No siblings.” She fell back into the practiced story, showing a touch of emotion in her expression and voice in the appropriate places. “My mother died in Bosnia. My father was military. We were given asylum here. My father died. I have no family. This is….” She looked around wistfully and wanted to say it was overwhelming. Instead she said, “This is what I always thought family life was like,” followed with a deep sigh. The women said nothing.
Good.
Perhaps the inquisition was over.

Celia looked around for Hunter and found him. A child clung to each leg, another hung on his back, arms wrapped around his neck. Squealing children were piling on all the men while the SEALs growled and moved like zombies. “Aren’t you afraid someone will get hurt?” she asked no one in particular.

Sienna shrugged. “Not really. If they do, every kid out there over five feet tall is a trained med tech and the hospital is twenty-five minutes away. If it’s really bad, a helo can land here.”

“If anyone does get hurt, it’ll be one of the big kids.” Barbara laughed.

Celia marveled at their composure. Being able to forget the violent, brutal side of the men. Focusing on the love.

Her heart rate and pulse ramped into overdrive.
Love
.

She took a slow look around.
What the fuck was she doing?
Love, or even a serious relationship was not an option for her. Sex with him had disabled her internal security system. In Hunter’s arms she’d suppressed the realities of her life.
Oh, my God…. What had she done?

“Looks like the hoards are coming in to eat,” Jenny said.

Celia looked at the throng advancing on the shelter. Hoards indeed.

“Come on.” Di pulled her up. “We need to hit the food before they do.”

Celia had never seen so much food in one place that wasn’t a cafeteria. Plates were filled and when everyone found a seat Hobbit clanged the bell again. “Blessing.” All fell silent, even the boisterous children, and bowed their heads. “God,” Hobbit said, “thank you for country. Family. Friends and the food we are about to eat. Amen.”

Hunter noticed her uneasiness and slipped an arm around her shoulders. “Doing okay?” His beard tickled as he spoke in her ear.

She nodded. “It’s a lot to take in.”

She did her best to keep up with the conversations, smiling and nodding in the right places and deferring to Hunter when asked questions about them.

After dinner, the children cleaned up. A boom box appeared, tables were moved aside and dancing began. Hunter took her hand and she thought he wanted to dance. Instead, he dropped onto a chair and pulled her onto his lap. “Do you mind if I ask Darla to dance first? She’s been my special girl longer than you have.”

“I’m good. I heard about her. I was warned she bites.”

He laughed. “She does.” He put a hand to the back of her neck, his fingers playing with the hair that had escaped her ponytail for a moment. Then he kissed her.

“Hunter,” a tiny voice interrupted. “I’m ready to dance.”

Celia jerked back as if they’d been caught by the principal.

“I’m ready too,” Hunter said then stood. “But first I want to introduce you to Celia.” Hunter preformed a formal introduction during which Darla gave her the narrow-eyed gaze of a fighter sizing up an opponent. She brightened when Hunter took her hands and they bopped away to some golden oldie.

“Hold him, please.” Page thrust the toddler, who earlier needed an equipment change, into her arms. “I have to corral my other one.”

“I’ve never held a baby be…fore,” she said to Page’s back. It looked up at her, grinned and stuck three fingers in its mouth. She dropped onto the chair Hunter had vacated. “Are you supposed to eat your fingers like that?” She considered pulling the tiny digits out but they—the hand, and the arm they were connected to—were dripping with slobber. She looked around for help and saw Page returning with a child in tow. As she took the child, Hunter and Darla reappeared.

“Come on.” Darla took her hand. “We’re gonna dance.” What had changed her attitude? Was she intending to lull her into complacency then chomp on her? She looked to Hunter for a clue. He shrugged, took her other hand towed her in the direction of the crowd. The dancing had turned into a dance-with-everyone free-for-all. Adults holding little ones. Men bellowing the words to their favorite songs.

She was grateful that Hunter, despite the chaos, managed to keep them together. And that Darla didn’t bite.

The dance-a-thon ended. Children disappeared to parts unknown and the women drifted to the sofas. She was about to ask to be taken home when Hunter said, “The boys are going out back to have a smoke. You can visit some more.”

For a moment she imagined twisting her fingers in his shirt, holding him in place and begging to be taken home. Instead she smiled. “Have fun.”

As he went off to join the men, Sienna offered her a beer. “We’re going to put things away,” she said. “You get a pass since this is your first time here. But don’t expect to get another one.”

Grateful for the pass, and secure in the knowledge there would not be a next time, she curled up in the corner of a sofa and tried to make herself invisible. She could also use a pass from the overwhelming audio and visual assaults. But the questions didn’t end—even the children stopped where she sat, interrogating her with vigor. One crawled onto her lap. Another asked to be picked up. Even the animals demanded a back rub or ear scratch. The moment one person left, another came to take their place. It was exhausting. Then Darla came and sat cross-legged next to her.

“How old are you?” she asked.

“I’m thirty. Why do you want to know?”

“Well, Father Marc said Hunter can’t marry anyone under twenty-one. And Hunter says he can’t get married by anyone but his brother.” She sighed, looking resigned. “I was checking if you were old enough.”

“You mean, Hunter’s brother, the priest, said this?” She had the silly urge to tell the child she needn’t worry, she wasn’t competition.

“Umm.”
Darla nodded like the bobble head on Hunter’s dash.

“What does his sister say?”

“Dunno.” She shrugged. “When you marry Hunter can I be the flower girl?”

“
Darla Lopez
,” Barbara said from behind them before Celia could answer. “You get your bad self out of here and leave Miss Celia alone.”