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Cal had fallen asleep on the couch at the condo, too tired to even make it to the bathroom to get a shower after leaving SEAL HQ after midnight. Alex had a worried look on his face as he came out of the second bedroom. “Yeah? What?” He sat up, rubbing his burning eyes. The medic was holding some papers in his hands.
“I was digging in a lower drawer for some clothes space, and I found these in my bedroom.” His voice thickened. “I think… I think they are from Sky?” He motioned awkwardly to the lavender bow tied around them. “Have you seen these?”
Cal reached out, drowsily taking the packet. “No,” he mumbled, barely awake.
“Maybe,” Alex said, “it was a wedding gift for you? Something personal? I did not look at them.”
Cal grimly looked at the thick batch of papers. It was Sky’s art paper she used to create pastels drawings on. “I don’t know. I didn’t know about them if it is.”
Alex gave him a sorrowful look. “I am going to hit the shower and then go to bed. Good night.”
Alone in the quiet condo, Cal saw the satin bow tied around the thick sheaves of art paper. His heart started to pound, and he felt suddenly wide awake, sleep torn from him. Carefully, Cal untied the satin ribbon and set it aside. He placed the papers on his lap. Some were square, others rectangular. Some were photo-sized to fit into an album or perhaps a picture frame. He touched the first thick, white paper, almost afraid to turn it over to see what was there. This was the paper Sky used to draw and paint on. Cal knew she’d brought out her pastel chalk and drawing paper with her. He didn’t remember her drawing, but he had been gone a lot of the time, too. Each of them had different responsibilities before their wedding.
Fear moved through Cal. He had to turn the drawing over. When he did, he felt his soul rip open. Sky had always drawn landscapes. And animals. Cal had never seen her draw a human. He stared in disbelief down at her artwork. It was a portrait of him. Cal’s throat tightened. He’d once shown her an old photo album of pictures from when he and his SEAL team had been stationed in Afghanistan. She’d chosen one of him, kneeling, the butt of his M4 planted on his thigh. Her talent was far more than he realized, because, literally, it damn near looked like color photo of him in haji gear, his Afghan clothing. He wore his thick beard, his hair long, and an Afghan rolled cap on his head. She’d captured his intense stare, a fierce look toward the man who had taken the photo.
Cal’s heart began a slow pound as he realized Sky had written something in black ink at the bottom.To the man who will always be a hero in my eyes and heart. Thank you for your service. I love you so much. Sky.The words blurred. Cal cursed softly, blinking rapidly, wiping the tears out of his eyes.
His hand trembled as he picked up a five by seven-inch paper and turned it over. He had never seen Sky draw in ink, but she had this time. Cal marveled at her raw talent. It was a portrait of him in his SEAL work uniform, a close-up, and he was smiling, looking out of the picture directly at the person holding it. Beneath it, Sky had written:Your smile makes me smile. I had such darkness in my soul until you walked into my life. I was so lost until you found me. I love you. Sky.
Cal took in a ragged breath, his chest feeling squeezed, a fist gripping his heart. He carefully placed it right side up on the larger one he’d already looked at. The next one was the same size. Turning it over, it was an ink sketch of his hand, fingers splayed outward as if reaching for something. The detail in the drawing were stunning, even down to the many small white scars across the back of his hand. It almost looked alive. His gaze dropped to the the bottom of it.When you touch me, I feel your love. Your touch is so gentle, so tender with me. I never knew a man could be like that with a woman, but you are. Never stop touching me. Ever. Love, Sky.
Sky must have created these over time and brought them with her from their home in Virginia. They were like Hallmark cards, only better. Made by her. Personal. Intimate. Loving. Cal looked up, staring hard at the door, visualizing Sky walking through it, with her beach towel draped over her arm, her hair tangled, her incredible blue eyes shining with such life. What was he going to do if he never found her? Cal swallowed hard.
He felt anxious, turning over the next sketch. It was as large as the first one. Sky had drawn the meadow below their bedroom. It took his breath away because the composition looked almost alive. The elk herd crossing it was perfectly drawn. A corner of Cal’s mouth drew slightly upward. Sky had captured the alpenglow, that pale, gossamer pink that occurred just at dawn or dusk. He knew she had struggled through God only knew how many attempts trying to get it just right. Well, she had. He wanted to read what she had written at the bottom. It was as if he were hearing her voice whispering near his ear. Cal swore he could feel Sky so close to him, her slender arms draped around his shoulders, her breasts pressed against his back, her head nestled on his shoulder, eyes closed.Promise me always that we can live in the house you built? I feel so safe there. I feel as if you built a beautiful womb just for me to thrive in, to know happiness, to feel so alive because you are there with me. I’ll love you until I take my last breath. Sky.
Wincing, Cal turned it over. He felt as if some invisible claw was tearing his chest apart. He missed Sky so damn much. Every day that passed, he felt more pain. More agony, not less. There was one last sketch left. He wasn’t sure he could emotionally handle it or not. Cal wanted to cry. He wanted to hold Sky so damned badly, give her the safety he knew he’d always given her before. She’d lived a life without any security at all. The misery and anger of not finding a trail to follow, to find her, rammed up through him. Cal’s hand shook as he reached for the last sketch.
He groaned as he turned it over and pressed his hand against his eyes, the tears squeezing out of them, leaking through his fingers. He pushed the sketch away. He felt ripped wide open. Staggering to his feet, Cal caught himself, pushing toward the front door and jerking it open. It was 0200. The night sky was clear, dark, and moonless. The stars glimmered but blurred as Cal walked steadily toward the rocks and the lapping of the water. He couldn’t stop the sobs that were tearing out of him. Pressing his hand against his constricted chest, he made it to the rocks. Cal sat down, facing the bay, trying to find some kind of solace juxtapose his anguish, some kind of peace. But there was none. The terrible animal-like sounds surrounded him. His shoulders shook and he leaned forward, elbows planted into his tense thighs, his face buried in his hands.
Cal didn’t know how long he cried. His throat ached. His chest hurt. He could never recall feeling this hopeless, this terrified or grief stricken. Not even when he was a boy of seven, after his father cut his back open with a belt buckle, he had been beaten with. Cal had run out of the house, escaping to a shed, hiding, trembling with abject fear. He’d lain there all night, huddled into a tight ball, crying softly, hurting so much, unable to understand why his drunk father would hurt him like this. Those feelings were still sharp and clear within Cal, but paled compared to the loss of Sky, the woman he loved with his soul. It jagged through him like a raw, bleeding wound that would not close and would never be healed.
Slowly, Cal straightened, wiping his wet face, then shoving his damp palms against his cargo pants to dry them off. Slowly, the world around him gently returned. The lapping of the water was so damn comforting to him. He was a SEAL. Water was his mother. She would always protect him, guard him, save his life if it came to that. Cal felt as if he were emotionally hemorrhaging. He understood now, as never before, how Sky saw him. Symbolically, he was her water, her security, her safety. And now… she had no one to hold her. No one to give her that sense of protection he knew she so desperately needed. He felt so damn powerless. As a SEAL, they were men of action. That’s what they were very good at. Sitting around? No. Not their style. Not his. Cal couldn’t sit for longer than fifteen minutes at any time. He got up, stretched, and walked around. The restlessness in him gnawed like a wild animal’s fangs sinking deep into his chest, tearing at his muscles, clawing and snapping his ribs apart. The pain was excruciating. His love for Sky was so deep, he couldn’t feel where it began or ended.
Cal sat there, recalling one very serious talk with Sky a few mornings after their return from Peru. They were both still in shock from the series of events, battle weary and feeling emotionally gutted. As they sat in the living room, Sky curled up against him, her head on his shoulder, coffee resting on her slender thigh, she’d whispered to him, “Hell is the absence of love.”
God, she was so right. So damn right.He rubbed his chest, trying to will away his grief and loss. Cal hadn’t realized it, but his life had been hell until he’d met Sky. She had brought her love into his dark life. He hadn’t even known he lived in Hell until now. Until she had been ripped away from him.
Cal watched the lights dancing and twinkling across the San Diego Bay. The crescent shape reminded him of the curve of Sky’s arms holding him after they made sweet, hot, hungry love with one another. Her arms were not heavily muscled like his. But they were firm and strong in other ways. And when her long, slender fingers lightly grazed his cheek, caressing him, Cal knew love for the first time in his life. Sky didn’t realize that with every grazing touch she gave him, she fed him, as though he was a starving pauper, dying until she sent light deep into his dark soul, chasing the blackness away, making him feel love. Feel hope…
Somehow, he had onto hold hope. Scrubbing his face ruthlessly, Cal knew in his heart that Sky was strong. Much stronger emotionally than he would ever be. Right now, he felt like fragile glass that was going to shatter into a million pieces, never to be put back together again. Sky had a woman’s strength, soft, quiet, soothing, and calming, that tamed the savage beast that always prowled within him. She had tamed him.
Cal had never seen himself as married. Or hell, even being in love, whatever the hell THAT word meant. He knew sex well. But love? No. Sky had entered his life and triggered his hope, had opened his heart. At the time, he hadn’t even known what the hell was going on, except that he NEEDED her like oxygen in order to live. Meeting her changed his life forever. Instead of just existing, he’d discovered what it was like to be alive. No longer did he simply exist. Sky made him want to live. She made him laugh, and the striking sketch of him smiling had totaled Cal emotionally. Because before Sky, he never smiled. Never laughed. Life was one rough son-of-a-bitch, day in and day out. That was all.
He’d been in total survival mode since he could remember. Yeah, he shared black humor with his SEAL team. And when he was home between deployments, he would always go visit his sister Tracey and her husband on the farm in Oregon. She always wanted him over to their house to eat dinner. To be a family that they’d never been. Cal cared deeply for Tracey. She’d been raped, nearly died of the beating, but she’d survived. And Cal was there every step of the way through her grueling recovery. Tracey had fought a fight Cal never thought anyone could survive. But she had. And today, as he fondly looked across the bay toward glittering San Diego in the distance, his sister was happily married, the terror of her past put to rest by the devoted love of her husband. John loved Tracey fiercely.
Cal had always stood back, watching them together, unable to be a part of it. Because he didn’t know love. He’d never loved. Afraid of that kind of deep, magical, scary connection, he’d avoided it at all costs. Cal was happy for Tracey because she had a rough childhood too and deserved someone like John. Best of all, Cal thought, watching the lights dance on the water, John worshipped his sister. There was a gentleness he had toward her that Cal had never seen in a man before. He wondered what was wrong with him. Being a SEAL, the word gentle or tender simply did not exist in their world. But Sky had brought those qualities out in him. He had not known he was capable of such emotions. And she had taught him tenderness in four short months.
Wiping his jaw, feeling the stubble, Cal slowly rose. He pushed his hands deep into his pockets and slowly walked back into the condo. Now, he was ready to look at her last sketch and read what she had written below it.
Quietly shutting the door, Cal sat down on the couch. He took a deep, ragged breath and picked up the sketch, turning it over once again. It was a black-haired baby, newly born, with blue eye, smiling from the pink swaddling around her. She was looking directly at him. Cal looked at Sky’s handwriting. He saw splotches where the ink had spread from the clean lines as it was written. Barely touching the script, Cal knew Sky had cried while she wrote these words.I wish in my heart of hearts, that one day, we will create a beautiful baby girl just like this one. Love allows us to grow, to hope, to dream. I dream of at least two, maybe three beautiful, strong, courageous children with you, Cal. Love forever, Sky.
CHAPTER 15
July 10
Dr. Allegra Zapatastudied the lab results on Sky Lambert in her office in San Jose, Costa Rica. Her thin black brows drew downward as she considered everything. The woman was roughly eight weeks pregnant. She’d known Sky was pregnant when she’d examined her at La Paloma. However, Allegra didn’t trust the fact that the room was heavily monitored with cameras. Sky seemed not to realize she was pregnant. Something didn’t feel right to Allegra, and she wasn’t going to tell anyone just yet, not even Sky. Riffling through the lab reports, they all clearly confirmed that Sky was pregnant.
What was going on at that villa? Don Tobar did not seem Latino at all. He was a foreigner, but she wasn’t sure where the man had come from. Allegra was very well off economically because she was one of the best fertility experts in Central and South America, and she recognized the expensive Italian shoes the man wore. They cost him thousands of dollars. Further, the goons he had working with him looked like soldiers, even though they wore casual civilian clothes. There was an air of unspoken tension at the villa, the servants all had wary looks on their faces.
