From Duty to Daddy. Sue MacKay
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head would only add to the worries this little household already faced.
‘Hey, beautiful, how’s my girl? Have a good sleep?’ Reaching for Aimee, Charlie’s heart squeezed at the sight of the little creases made by the pillow on the side of her baby’s face, and at the red cheeks and sleep-filled green eyes staring out at her over the edge of the cot. So like Aimee’s father’s eyes. Piercing green, reminding her of a polished emerald.
Aimee’s father. MIA. She shuddered. Wrong term. She might be doing everything in her power to find him, but MIA? That was definitely tempting fate. Especially if he was back in another war zone with his unit. She touched the side of the cot with her fingers for luck, definitely needing to push away that cloud of dread.
‘Mum-mum,’ Aimee instantly gurgled, and raised her arms high. ‘Mum-mum.’
Thoughts of Marshall kept trekking through Charlie’s head as she lifted her daughter up. She couldn’t really imagine anything happening to him. ‘Your dad is so virile, so much larger than life, strong and full on. He looks the world in the eye, as though daring it to throw the worst at him.’ He always acted as though nothing could touch him.
Stupid Charlie. Trying to get the man hurt now?
‘Mum-mum.’
‘Time you learnt a new word. How about Grandpa?’
How about Daddy? If only there was a need for that.
Aimee wriggled and tightened her arms around Charlie’s neck, almost choking her.
Carefully unravelling them, Charlie grinned. ‘You’ve got a very wet bottom, my girl.’ She kissed Aimee’s brow and headed for the bathroom.
Blowing kisses on Aimee’s tummy took up a few minutes. Giggles rent the air and made Charlie grin more widely. ‘You’re worth it all, my girl. I’d go through everything again if I had to.’
Careful, you might have to yet. No guarantees out there.
The dark thought lifted goose-bumps on her skin. It was this fear that kept her acting on the side of caution, kept her refusing to relax and accept she was over the worst so that she could get on with life, and that drove her to keep trying to find Marshall despite the unlikelihood of ever succeeding in that quest.
‘Mum, up.’ Aimee’s well-aimed foot banged against her jaw, making her jerk back, and refocused her on where her mind should be. On her daughter.
‘Hey, mischief, watch who you’re kicking.’ Yep, definitely an active kid.
Her baby girl, whom she’d do absolutely anything for. Along with Marshall’s green gaze Aimee had inherited a whole dose of stubbornness from him. Otherwise she was her mum with the dark blonde hair, button nose and freckles dotting her cheeks.
‘One day, my girl, we’re going to find your dad. Won’t he be surprised?’ Surprise might not cut it. There was a myriad of other emotions Marshall would no doubt feel when he learned he was father to this gorgeous bundle of joy. Hopefully love would eventually come out on top.
But first she’d get her strength back. She sighed.
Nothing was easy these days. Hadn’t been since the day the lab results had come back with all the medical jargon screaming out at her: cervical cancer.
Charlie’s world had instantly imploded. The future, in particular Aimee’s future, had become a priority in case the worst happened and Aimee lost her mum. Fear had driven Charlie throughout her surgery and treatment, had got her back on her feet. Losing her mother to cancer at seven had been dreadful, but she’d had her dad to love and cherish her. If Aimee lost her to this terrible disease then she’d need Marshall in her life.
He was out there. He’d held her in his arms, made love to her a lot, kissed her senseless. He hadn’t been an apparition.
Oh, no. Not at all. Her fingertips traced her lips. Her insides melted as her skin remembered his large hands caressing, teasing, loving her body.
Aimee needed to know both her parents. And … Charlie’s fingers brushed the bathroom cabinet … if the worst came to the worst, Marshall had to be there for Aimee if she couldn’t be.
If only she could find him.
She had to. No argument.
CAPTAIN MARSHALL HUNTER turned onto Spa Road and slowed, checking which side of the road he was driving on. ‘Goddamned Kiwis. Why can’t they use the right-hand side like everyone else?’
Someone tooted at him and he pulled to the kerb. ‘Yeah, yeah, give me a break. I’m a tourist.’ A tired smile stretched across his mouth. The trouble with being overtired was that everything got that much more complicated. Twisting the cap off the bottle of soda he’d purchased at the petrol station a little way back, he poured half the contents down his parched throat. At least that tasted the same as back home. Jet lag, and lack of sleep for the past six months, played havoc with his body. And his mind.
The military plane out of Kansas that he’d hitched a ride on had touched down at Whenuapai Air Force Base at the ungodly hour of five that morning.
Which only went to show how crazy he’d been. Why had he hopped a plane going in the opposite direction from Florida, where he’d intended spending some of his leave checking up on his buddy’s family? A sudden aberration of the brain? Had to be. No other explanation for finding himself in this place called Taupo. On the long-haul flight, squashed amongst gear and guys, he’d tried not to dwell on his uncharacteristically impulsive action. Like that had been possible.
What had happened to Mr Cool, the guy who planned every move of his life? He didn’t do random. Random got you shot in a war zone. Got you in all sorts of trouble anywhere. Besides, he was an officer in the army where lateral thinking didn’t go down too well with the top brass.
Marshall grimaced. All control gone in a haze of yearning for something intangible, for someone who regularly flitted through his mind. So close yet so far away. Charlie Lang. Woman wonderful.
She’d been responsible for the fog in his head and the gnawing sense of finally reaching a destination he’d been aiming for ever since he’d waved her goodbye back in Honolulu more than two years back.
Closing his eyes, he leaned back against the headrest. Charlie. ‘Because of you I’ve come all this way with no idea if I’m even welcome.’ Of course he’d be welcome. Charlie would be thrilled to see him. Why wouldn’t she? They’d got on well.
‘You spent all your time together in bed.’
So? That had worked out just fine. Could be that they might do some more bed gymnastics while he was here. Unless she’d got hitched to some dude in the intervening years. Air caught in his lungs. She wouldn’t have. Would she? Why not? Charlie was one very sexy lady who any man would be happy to get up close and personal with.
Okay. Don’t go there. Presume until told otherwise that Charlotte was still single and willing. They had been very compatible. He’d never known sex like it. She’d pressed every button he had and some. One look at her across the ED and he’d been a goner, falling into those deep blue pools blinking out at him from under a thick blonde fringe.
His belly rumbled with hunger. Snatching up the BLT sandwich he’d picked up at the same time as the soda, he bit into it. Chewing thoughtfully, he hoped it was hunger and not nerves making his gut carry on like a washing machine. Like he ever did nervous. Not even on a recce when he knew armed insurgents were waiting to take a crack at him.
The sandwich went down a treat, making him feel almost human again. Ready to do battle. If it came to that. As if it would. Charlie would be happy to see him. But he’d been on edge for so long he couldn’t quite get a grip on things. He’d come off that flight feeling like rubbish, knowing he should hop on the next plane out of the country,