Cold Day in Hell (32 page)

“I won’t let Cruz get you. I protect what’s mine.” He rubbed his cheek over hers.

“Now, tell me about your illness? You have the stomach flu?” She turned into his body and cradled his rugged face. “I’ve been feeling unwell for weeks. I went to the doctor yesterday and I found out…” his eyes filled with fear at her words, “…no, it’s nothing fatal.” She took a breath and blew it out. “I’m pregnant.

You’re going to be a father in about seven months.”

His dark eyes warmed and his lips broke into a wide smile. “How? We only … um, you had birth … um, how?”

He kissed her before she could answer. His tongue thrusting into her mouth. He angled her face to take the kiss even deeper. She moaned and placed her arms around his neck to pull him closer, to keep him kissing her forever. God, she’d missed this, missed his taste, his scent, his touch. And now, she wore his ring and carried his baby. Her life was looking good—except for the serpent in the garden, Cruz, her life would’ve been fabulous.

Risto broke the kiss and then peppered her face, hair and neck with dozens of smaller kisses. “God, baby…” Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. “…I love you.” Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. “A baby. Our baby.” He touched his forehead to hers and looked lovingly into her eyes. “But how?”

“The birth control failed.” She peered at him. “You really don’t mind being a husband and a father so quickly?”

“Hell, no. I envied Ren when he found Keely and she got pregnant right away. Never thought I’d be lucky enough to find a woman who’d fit into the world I’d chosen.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Then you leapt into my arms in Colombia and from that moment on proved there was such a woman. And, damn, baby, you wanted me back.

How freaking lucky are we?”

“Very lucky.” Her stomach gurgled loudly and she laughed. “That is your son or daughter, though I’m leaning toward it being a boy, telling me he is done making me throw up for a while and I need to eat.”

Risto cuddled her. He picked up a package of saltines, opened them and handed one to her. “Been bad?”

She munched on the cracker, signaling one minute, then took another sip of the soda.

“God, I needed that. Yeah, it’s been hell. There doesn’t seem to be a schedule. I just get sick. The doctor says I have an extreme case. Hormones, lots and lots of hormones.

We’re hoping I’ll get over it by the end of the third month.”

“So, you’re two months along.” He counted on his fingers as she ate her soup. “That means our baby will come sometime in late June of next year.”

“Yep. The shower room in Ungaía will always hold fond memories for me,” she said. He grinned. She crumbled some crackers into the soup. “So, we’ll be living in the U.P.? I’ll need to get pre-natal care set up soon. The doctor in Chicago did an ultrasound to make sure the fetus was attached solidly.” She dug into her tote and pulled out a small manila envelope and handed it to Risto.

He opened it and looked at the images. His smile was broad. “Yep, that is a fetus. No way to tell the sex yet.”

“No, but I’m pretty sure we’ll have a boy. I remember Mrs. Walsh saying she was the sickest with all her boys and then Keely was a dream pregnancy. Probably not scientific, but I’m going with it until proven otherwise. Do you want to know? The doctor said we could try another ultrasound in a few months and see if the baby would pose so we could tell.” She giggled and Risto’s eyes lit up at her laughter.

“What’s so funny?”

“He was a jumping bean. He moved the whole time they did the ultrasound. I’m surprised you don’t see wave motion in the images. I suspect when he gets bigger, he’ll be an active baby and keep his momma up nights.”

“I’ll be up with you, then. Rubbing your tummy, your back and telling him to settle down and let his momma sleep.” He kissed her, his hand covering her stomach. “I love you. And as to where we’ll live—once we take care of Cruz, we’ll go to Idaho. We can get married there in less than twenty-four hours. I have a large apartment in the main house at Sanctuary. We’ll make that our base until I can build us a cabin there.”

“But what about your Michigan place?” She frowned, her hand covered his on her stomach. “We can live here. I don’t mind. I adore the Midwest.”

“Too isolated. Sanctuary, while also isolated, has people I trust to guard you while I’m on assignment during your pregnancy. Plus, you can work alongside Keely and Tweeter. She has a good ob-gyn in Coeur d’Alene and Ren is talking about attracting a doctor for the Sanctuary area, for operatives and their families and the other employees who work and live in the area.”

“Fine. But I’d like to visit Michigan from time to time—it’s closer to my brothers and their college.”

“Not a problem, honey. I inherited the island. It’ll be a great vacation place for your brothers. Plus, Ren wants to use the island as SSI-East. I would head it up, but for now, someone else can run it. Until the baby is born and we make sure the DOD traitor doesn’t come after you, I feel better about you being at Sanctuary with Keely and the others.” He frowned.

“Why the frown?” She traced the downward curve of his lips. When he didn’t answer, she added, “For your information, I’m sure I’d be fine in Michigan on your island. I’m betting you already have excellent security in place. Plus, you’ll be there, and when you aren’t, I can go to Idaho.”

“We can discuss where we’ll live later. We have more pressing concerns. Conn and Berto are heading here. The plan was to use you as bait to draw Cruz to the island in order to take him down.” His brow creased with worry. “You’re pregnant. Sick with it.

We’ll have to figure another way.”

“I’m pregnant. Not disabled—and not so sick I can’t help. We need to get him out of the way now while he’s on the run and off-centered, before he can regroup. Now is better than later, when I’ll be as big as a Hummer and unable to move.” Risto’s lips thinned. His eyes were dark and stormy. But she knew she’d won when he let out a long, slow sigh. “You’re right. Now is better than later.”

“Good. I need to eat something else. Then can we leave? I want to see your island fortress.” She was already planning her campaign for living in Michigan. Idaho was fine for a visit from time to time, but she wanted to live in Risto’s home and closer to her brothers—the DOD traitor be damned.

He grinned. “You having cravings already?”

“Yeah. Banana cream pie. I want some, and I see a piece with my name on it.” She pointed to a refrigerated shelf under the cash register.

“You got it.” He signaled the waitress and placed the order.

Callie sighed and nestled against him. What had been a horrible and stressful twenty-four hours had turned into one of the best days she’d ever lived. She laid her head against Risto’s shoulder and enjoyed the flashes her ring made as she massaged his chest.

Chapter Seventeen

Early Wednesday morning, Highway 2 in Upper Peninsula Michigan.

For what could’ve been the hundredth time since they’d left the bus station in Escanaba, Risto glanced over to check on Callie. One hand on the wheel, he reached over and swept a lock of hair from her eyes. She murmured briefly then went still. She was in a deep sleep. He cursed silently as he noted once again the dark circles under her eyes and the lack of color in her face. He’d make sure she took better care of herself in the future. He could see the need for him to be with her at all future obstetrician visits so he’d know what she needed to be doing for both herself and their baby. His little soldier had a way of not telling him what she needed or when she felt bad.

Their baby. A smile formed as he placed his hand over where their child was safely ensconced. A boy. A girl. He didn’t care as long as both Callie and the baby were healthy.

Both hands back on the wheel, he concentrated on getting them all to Osprey’s Point, the small town on Thousand Island Lake. At least he had a safe and secure place from which to launch the final battle to eliminate Cruz from Callie’s life. His paternal grandfather had been an architect trained in the schools of Saarinen and the mid-twentieth-century Brutalists. The house, a modern masterpiece of glass, metal and cement, was built into the side of a hill overlooking the lake. Other houses on the island, used for guests, were as equally sturdy and looked as if they had grown out of the rock formations. The whole island and all of the permanent structures and several limestone caves had all been wired for security. No one stepped onto the island, or even approached it by air or water, without Risto knowing. Last Spring, Keely while still in her second trimester of her pregnancy, along with her brother Tweeter, had helped him install the same three-dimensional security system they had at Sanctuary. His island was literally Sanctuary East, and as much as he looked forward to heading up this branch, he could wait until after all danger to the women of SSI was eliminated. Callie was not only targeted by Cruz, but like Keely was also a target of the DOD traitor.

He smiled grimly, his hands fisting on the steering wheel. No one was going to take Callie from him. Anyone stupid enough to try was a dead man.

His phone rang. He answered it through the steering wheel, chancing a glance to see if the noise had bothered Callie. Her gray eyes blinked at him and she yawned. “Sorry, baby,” Risto said.

“When did you start calling me baby, you dumb fuck?” Conn’s baritone rumbled over the open line.

“Conn. Callie’s here with me. Watch your language, asshole.” Callie giggled. Color came into her cheeks. He grinned and winked at her. “Say hello to Conn and Berto, sweetheart.”

“Hi, guys. Ignore Risto, he’s still in shock about the baby.” She looked around her and frowned. “It’s really bad outside. Where are you guys?”

“Hey, sweet cheeks. Berto says
hola
. Glad your man found you.” Conn paused.

“We’re in Marquette, trying to find a small plane to charter to get to Watersmeet.”

“Risto?” Callie sent him a scared look. “It’s not safe … is it? This is a blizzard.”

“Yeah, Conn. Callie’s right. It might be okay in Marquette right now, but this shit is heading your way. You’d be flying in a whiteout.” A particularly fierce wind hit the Jeep and Risto wrestled with the steering wheel to keep the vehicle in the middle of the barely plowed lane. “The conditions are deteriorating fast. We’ll be pushing it to get to Osprey’s Point and then to the island.”

“Hadn’t planned on leaving until this blew through. Midday is what they’re predicting before we’ll be able to fly to Watersmeet.”

“No need to kill yourself to get here any sooner. The bad guys will be riding this out, also. Just call when you get in. I’ll come get you.”

“Okay, Berto and I will bunk down at one of the airport hotels for what’s left of the night. We’ll fly into Watersmeet later today, count on it. A little snow never stopped me, although Berto is freaking.” A loud protest in vulgar Spanish came over the speaker.

Risto snorted and noticed a slight smile on Callie’s lips. “And, Risto, be careful. I know you want to get Callie to your island fortress, but the lake will be bad.”

“Give me some effing credit, Redmond. If I can’t get her there safely, we’ll hole up at Big Earl’s at the landing. But … trust me on this, I’ve boated this lake in absolute white-outs and two-foot plus chop and made it every damn time.”

“Yeah, but you have more to lose this time than your ass.”

“I know it. Just take care of your asses. I’ll take care of Callie’s.” Conn laughed. “Got it. Talk to you later today.”

Risto punched off the line then looked at Callie. No anxious hair-twisting, her hands lay relaxed in her lap. Her gaze took in the black-and-white landscape illuminated by the Jeep’s headlights. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’ve been in worse. Dad was stationed in Alaska one tour. Man, that was desolate. And I’ve been on lakes with rough water in a blizzard before.” She patted her tummy. “I’m feeling human now—but if I get sick on the boat ride, I can blame the baby and not the weather. I really am a better sailor than a flier. A helicopter in gusty winds would make me sicker than a choppy boat ride.”

“See if you can get the Weather Service report on the satellite radio, okay? I need both hands to keep us on the road. The cross winds are a bitch. We’re almost to the Osprey’s Point turn-off.”

“Okay.” She punched the car computer and located the controls for the radio. He noted she was very much at ease with current technology, which shouldn’t surprise him since she used computers to track dirty money. “There it is.” The National Weather Radio announcer was reporting on conditions in the Great Lakes region and it was pretty much as he’d expected—a whole load of snow and winds hitting upwards of fifty miles per hour through at least midday with continuing chances for heavy snow, wind and low temps through the weekend.

Callie, showing no concern about the weather or his driving, had sat back. Her hands went to her stomach. He smiled. He’d often noted pregnant women covered their stomachs a lot—Keely Walsh-Maddox had—in all stages of pregnancy. He couldn’t begin to imagine what it felt like to have a life forming inside. Women were just fucking amazing, his woman most of all.

“You okay?”

She glanced at him curiously. “Yeah, why?”

“You’re holding your stomach.”

She looked down and shook her head. “I’ve been doing this ever since the doctor told me I was pregnant. Not sure why. Well, that’s not quite true, when I feel like coughing up my guts, it makes sense. But at other times like now, everything is good.

Nervous gesture, maybe?” She smiled, a dreamy look in her eyes. “It makes me feel better, not so sure about the baby.”