Operation Family (3 page)

The late hour had the airport nearly still as Mac made his way down the terminal toward the exit. Passing the lit Christmas trees that lined the hallway, he saw embracing couples which had him speeding his pace. He needed fresh air to clear his mind and a good night’s sleep to get his game back. Spending part of his journey with Shelly and her children had given him an insight he didn’t have before, one that made him wonder if he had been missing something in life by not having someone to come home to. He had never planned to marry or have children of his own, not with his duties taking all of his time, but Shelly had made him wonder if he was depriving himself of something truly amazing.

Even with her unease over her husband and her questioning his career, the love was clear when she spoke about him. Hopefully, Helen would be able to help her deal with her newfound fears, but he was sure they’d make it through as long as they continued to work together and communicate. When he parted with Shelly and the children at baggage claim where her brother had met her, he could tell something had changed in her since Christopher had brought them together.

If there was one thing he knew, it was nothing ever happened without a reason. Their meeting wasn’t a chance encounter; they were brought together for a purpose. Maybe something he said would help her through the trying times ahead while her husband healed. All he knew for sure was things had changed in the short time they’d spent together.

“Lieutenant Commander Mac García?”

He had been watching a family reunion and didn’t notice the young Navy chaplain in his dress uniform approach him until his name was called. “Yes, Chaplain? What can I do for you?” His thoughts ran away with him as he wondered what would bring the chaplain out at such a late hour to find him. He had no family left other than his parents and brother, and he’d spoken to his father only a few hours before. Everyone was fine. That could only mean something had happened with one of his men or their families.

“Could we have a seat?” He nodded toward small seating area off to the side, and without waiting for Mac he headed to it.

“It’s been a long day. If you need me to come with you on a notification, let’s just go, and you can explain on the way.”

The chaplain took a seat and waited for Mac to do the same. “Commander García, Thursday evening, your nephew Shawn García passed away, leaving you the custody of his twin daughters.”

“Dead? Custody?” None of this could be happening. Shawn was only in his twenties, he couldn’t be dead. Mac didn’t even know his nephew had kids.

“The girls are six months old and their mother died in childbirth. You’re the only family they have.”

“Who’s caring for them now?”

“A nanny, Nicole Ryan. She’s been with the girls since they came home from the hospital.”

It had been fifteen years since he’d seen Shawn, with only the occasional phone call shared between the two of them. Whatever possessed him to leave the children to Mac was beyond his imagination. He was a SEAL. He wasn’t father material. There had to be someone more suitable. Mac liked children, but he didn’t know anything about raising them. They might have been the only family Shawn and he had left, but didn’t the children’s mother have family who would have been more suitable to raise them?

Sink or swim, that’s what the Navy taught me. Adjust and do what needs to be done.

“Commander?” The chaplain waved his hand in front of Mac’s face.

“Sorry. I’m just blown away by all this. I haven’t talked to Shawn in so long, I…I didn’t realize his wife had…died. Jesus. She passed away in childbirth?”

“Yes.”

“Poor Shawn. I apologize. What were you saying?”

“The girls are being cared for by the nanny until you arrive. Your C.O. has already cleared you of your duties while you deal with this, and there’s a flight at zero six hundred hours. All you need to do is purchase a ticket and you’ll have sixty days to take care of the family care plan. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

He looked at the chaplain, wanting to say
would you like a list
but he kept his mouth shut. The chaplain had to tell families their loved ones had died, and that was a duty Mac wouldn’t wish on anyone. “Thank you. I better see about that ticket.”

The chaplain reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. “Here’s my number if you find you need someone to confide in.”

“I appreciate that, but religion has never been my scene.”

“Commander, I’m more than just a religious adviser. Take the card in case.” He held the card closer until Mac relented.

“I do appreciate you coming out here at this time of night to let me know.” He glanced up at the clock.
After midnight.
“If it wasn’t for the weather delays I would have been here earlier and I could have gotten a flight out before morning.”

“The girls are in good hands until you arrive.” The chaplain stood. “Safe travels.”

Mac sat there long after the chaplain left, still trying to digest the news that he was now the guardian of twins. At only six months old, they would require many hours of hands-on care. How was he going to provide that? His parents were already in their sixties, so he couldn’t ask for their help, and he certainly wouldn’t be able to attend to them while he was on duty. How would he comply with the Family Ready Act? Retirement might be the only logical answer, and the very thought of it made him ill. What would he do with himself?
Even if he retired from the military, it might be more than he could handle.

With a plane ticket to Texas in hand and hours to kill, Mac stretched out on the floor next to the window by his gate. He had slept in worse places over the years, so the dirty floor at the airport didn’t bother him in the least. Something he hadn’t thought about in years was eating away at him.
Religion.

After growing up in a devoted Catholic family, he’d spread his wings at eighteen and never looked back. He believed in God, and some of the other ideas taught in church, while other things he questioned. How could a loving God send you to Hell for sex before marriage, for divorce, for suicide, and so many other so-called sins he didn’t want to think about?

The way he saw it, the only people who deserved to be there were child molesters, rapists, and murderers. According to some, he was no better than a killer himself, but he didn’t do it for sport or for the joy of the kill. He killed in the line of duty, for his country, when it was kill or be killed.

Over the years, he had heard plenty of hateful things about what he had done, but he refused to let any of it bother him. Now Shawn’s death had brought it all to the forefront of his mind. Was he going to Hell because he chose to stand up and fight for his country, for the things he believed in? The idea of it turned his stomach. He killed to protect himself, his men, the people back home, and their way of life. To him that wasn’t the same as killing in cold blood.

Maybe the old saying
two wrongs don’t make a right
was correct. Killing to protect others might come with a cost, but it was one he was willing to pay. Hadn’t he done his time in Hell already? Seeing what he’d seen, doing the things he had done in the name of his country. Hadn’t he paid enough?

If there really was an afterlife or Heaven, he thought he should be welcomed with open arms. He’d made great sacrifices to protect the citizens of his homeland, and he’d do it again if he had to. But—

Religion
.

Mac still wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

A sprawling white brick ranch surrounded by trees and fields met Mac as he pulled into the driveway. Large trees thick as his waist, lent privacy to the huge property. Off to the side, he could see a pool area. The place was stunning. What had Shawn done to afford it?

Now that he was gone, Mac realized he barely knew his nephew. They hadn’t spoken more than a few times a year, mostly at holidays, because there was so little left of their family. It had been almost a year since the last time they’d spoken. Mac had been deployed, and even though he’d meant to, he never got around to calling Shawn.

Now it was too late. Regret burned inside him, causing an ache to rise in his chest.

Even when they had spoken, it was quick, never more than a few minutes. No lengthy discussions about what Shawn did for a living. He knew his nephew had eloped with a local girl almost two years ago, but Mac had never met her. Over two years since his last visit. That bothered him, but there was nothing he could do to change it now.

He shoved the rental car into park in front of the house, checking one last time to make sure the address was correct before he stepped out. He glanced at the quiet house; no lights shone through the gloomy afternoon mist, leaving him to wonder if anyone was home.
I should have called ahead.
He’d taken it for granted that she’d be home with the twins.

All of a sudden, there was a grinding noise as a shotgun cocked from near the porch, sending him on guard. He stepped back next to the car, the bulk of it separating him from the front door, when a woman’s voice hollered at him. “You’re trespassing. This is private property.”

“Ms. Ryan?” When there was no response, he continued. “Ma’am, I’m Mac García, Shawn’s uncle.”

“The guardian…” Her voice broke.

“Yes, ma’am. I apologize for not calling first.” He watched her over the top of the car until she lowered the shotgun to the ground. Damn she was beautiful, even angry. “It’s raining. May I come in?”

“Not that I have any choice. You’ve inherited everything and you’re going to take them away from me.”

He walked around the car, wondering if the plan of action he had devised through the long hours at the airport waiting for the flight had all been for nothing. The nanny might have been someone Shawn approved off, but based on first impressions he wondered if she was stable enough for the lifestyle he’d bring the children in to.
Give the woman a break. She’s been through a lot.

He stepped into the house. The large entryway with golden oak wood floors welcomed him. The outside appeared grand but inside it was warm, cozy. The smell of freshly baked bread filled the space, making it homey. It reminded him of his childhood, without the immensity of the house. Nearing forty, there were few reminders of his childhood left. Too much war, blood, and loss had separated him from those innocent years.