Operation Willow Quest (3 page)

“I’m sure her fury’s enough to make a grown man
shake in his shoes,” Willow
said, dragging her gaze from the almost seductive way he devoured the fruit.

“She’s nine months pregnant and pumped full of
hormones. It’s a braver man than me who’d take her on in that state.”

The mere though of her five foot nothing sister
intimidating this man was enough to bring a small smile to her full lips as she
refilled her glass carefully. Then with reluctant manners, she asked Del if he wanted one as
well.

When he shook his head, she put the jug away
and took her glass back outside, not waiting to see if he followed her.

He did.

With an irritated sigh, she decided to ignore
him, looking out at the glorious view before her. The heavy air smelt of salt,
and the gentle breeze tickled the hair at the base of her neck.

“So, what’s the next big story? Who you got in
your sights now?”

Turning her head, she pinned him with a bored
gaze. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” She shrugged. She
could feel him watching her and did her best not to grate her teeth in
frustration. The silence settled between them but it wasn’t relaxing—more a
biding of time.

“You know what your problem is?” Del drawled softly after
the silence dragged.

Willow
shook her head with a
disbelieving shake.

“You need to get out more. We could go out
tonight and give Summer and Ox some alone time.”

“We could do that,” she said, obviously
surprising him with her ready acceptance. “Which would you prefer? Bar or
restaurant?” she asked.

He paused, having been about to take another
bite of what remained of his apple, to stammer, “Well…restaurant I guess.”

“Fine then, I’ll take the bar.” She smiled
sweetly and took a sip of her drink.

“Very mature,” he said, shifting his leg into a
more comfortable position.

She figured it must have been hurting some.

“Do you honestly see the two of us sitting down
to a
civilised
meal together?”

“It could be done if you stop
snappin
’ my head off every time I ask you a question.”

“Me? You’re the one who keeps picking a fight.”

“
Darlin
’, you’re just
sore because you can’t have me,” he said with a shrug of his broad shoulder.

“
What?
”
Willow demanded
incredulously.

The door slid open and Tate strolled out onto the
veranda, stopping when he saw the thunderous look on his sister-in-law’s face.

“Am I interrupting something here?” he asked cautiously.

“No.”

“Yes.”

They answered in unison as they glared at each
other across the table.

Tate gave a defeated sigh. “Well, you two
better sort out whatever it is that’s got you acting like two rabid
dogs—because I’m not
gonna
let you upset my wife.”

“He started it,” Willow said, through clenched teeth.

Del
chuckled in disbelief.
“I did not.”

“Like hell you didn’t,” Willow stormed, indignantly.

Tate tried to play umpire, but only managed to
add to the din before a loud “Excuse me?” entered the conversation.

Three faces turned, to find a white-faced
Summer, standing in the doorway. “If anyone can spare a few minutes I need a
ride to the hospital.” She paused, her hands clenched across her stomach, and a
grimace of pain crossed her face. As it subsided, she took a calming breath,
glancing up to find three uncomprehending faces staring back at her. “
I’m having the baby
,” she clarified with
a groan of exasperation.

“What?” Willow
stood, her gaze fixed upon her sister.

“Are you sure?” Tate asked, his own face
rapidly losing
colour
.

“I’m fairly sure I don’t leak water all over
the place everyday,” she answered, and Willow
realized she was gritting her teeth against a wave of pain.

“But you’re not due until next Wednesday,” she
protested.

Summer pierced her sister with a dangerous
glance and said, “Well, it wants to come out
today
.”

“Okay, calm down
darlin
’,”
Tate said, approaching his wife as one might approach a dangerous animal.
“Let’s think this through.”

“Think
what
through?” Summer yelled. “The baby’s coming—get me to the damn hospital!”

Willow
rolled her eyes at her
brother-in-law’s expression of pure terror, taking a step forward. “Come on,
Tate, you help Summer to the car, I’ll go get her hospital bag.”

Armed with a clear set of directions, everyone
jumped into action. Tate obediently helped Summer towards the front door and
down the steps, Willow,
hot on his heels carrying the bag. Standing alongside his sleek, panther-like,
two-door Charger, he paused, patting his jeans and jacket, searching for the
keys.

“Hanging up inside the front door,” Summer
managed between slow deep breaths.

“Right, I’ll be back.” He turned and sprinted
back inside, returning with the keys.

“Okay let’s go,” he said a little too
cheerfully, preparing to get in the drivers seat as Willow
and Del
jockeyed for position over who got the passenger seat.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Summer
asked, her face screwed up against the pain of a contraction.

Tate screwed his face up as he went through his
list: “Bag, keys…wallet—”

“
Pregnant wife
?” she supplied helpfully, “if we’re
all
going to the hospital, where am I
supposed to fit?” She pointed out the small matter of a two-seater car, and
four passengers.

“Damn,” Tate said, thumping his head and
running around to the other side of the car, to help her into the passenger
side.

Willow
bit back a chuckle.
These men were used to making snap decisions, were trained to think on their
feet, but things sure changed when the emergency was a pregnant wife and the
unfamiliar territory of childbirth.

* * * *

“I left my car here—you’ll have to drive,” Del said to Willow
as he dug out his keys. “We’ll meet you there,” he called over the car to Tate,
who was nervously wiping an arm across his brow.

Willow
grabbed the keys from Del and moved toward the
car parked at the curb. With a muttered curse, Del
took off as fast as he could with crutches, fearing Willow would leave without him.

“Will you hurry up? We’ll lose them,” she said
as he passed his crutches into the back of the car.

“I know the way to the hospital, relax,” he
said as he shut the door behind him, barely getting the words out before having
to grab for the door handle to steady himself as she peeled off in a screech of
tires. “Maybe you could take this next corner a bit slower,” he said, raising
his voice as a hairpin corner loomed before them.

Willow
didn’t seem to hear
him though, because the speedometer was still climbing as he sent a swift
glance toward it.

“Relax,” she said, her gaze fixed firmly on the
road. “We won’t have any problems…as long as you keep reminding me what side of
the road we’re supposed to stay on.” His long, loud curse was drowned out as Willow turned on the
radio and settled into the car.

She followed Del’s directions while he pulled out his
mobile phone to call Maloney and
Tup
to let them know
where they were headed. Swinging his neck around to look out the back window,
he let out another loud curse. “Wasn’t that Tate we just passed…
on the wrong side of the road
?” he
yelled.

Willow
peered in the rear
view mirror, squinting to make out the dark car, now a speck in the distance.
“Oops, oh well, we’ll go ahead and make sure they’re expecting them,” she said
with a dazzling grin that, even as he hyperventilated, made his gut do
flip-flops.

They pulled up in front of the hospital in
record time. Willow was quickly out of the car,
hurrying Del
onto his crutches.

“Lady, you’re crazy,” he muttered, still shaken
from the rapid trip in. “I can’t believe we got here in one piece.”

“Oh stop being such a baby; you’ve obviously
never driven through Thailand.
Now
there’s
a hair-raising experience,”
she retorted, and chuckled.

“I’ll take your word for it,” he mumbled,
shaking his head.

Tate pulled up with a low growl of his pride
and joy’s powerful engine and helped Summer out of the car. Amidst choruses of
“Good luck,” and “we’ll be waiting,” medical staff wheeled Summer away into the
cool interior of the hospital, leaving Willow
and Del to
stare after them anxiously. After seeking directions, they moved, as fast as a
man on crutches could hobble, towards the maternity section of the hospital to
find the waiting room.

* * * *

Willow
paced back and forth,
watching the clock on the far wall.

“It’s not going to go any faster you know,” Del drawled, as she
passed by him once more.

“I always thought pacing was the father’s job,”
she muttered, sitting next to him with an impatient sigh.

“You want a coffee? There’s a machine down the
hall,” he suggested, climbing to his feet.

“How are you going to carry them back, balance
them on your head?” Willow
asked sarcastically.

“Hey, I’m a Marine, I’ll think of something,”
he said, giving her a wink.

She gave a small snort as he hobbled away down
the hall. She was tempted to leave him to figure out how to juggle two cups of
hot coffee and a pair of crutches—out of morbid curiosity—but got to her feet
with a sigh. Who was she kidding? She couldn’t stand by and watch someone
fumble their way through something like that—not even if it
were
Peter Delaware. Coming to a stop
beside him, she held out a hand to take the cups.

“You
do
like me,” he said with a smirk as she followed him back to their seats.

“I like the coffee more, so don’t get any funny
ideas,” she warned, blowing the hot steam from the top of her cup and taking a
cautious sip. For the next half hour, they sat in compatible silence, before
Tate came hurrying towards them.

“What?” Willow
asked, grabbing her brother-in-law’s arm tightly, as she searched his tight
features.

“It’s a girl,” he said, and a grin split his
face as he looked at them in stunned delight.

“I thought first babies were supposed to take
hours?” Willow
said weakly

“Not this one. She wanted out.”

“Can we go in and see her?”

“They’re taking her down to the room. I have to
call the guys and let them know,” he said, eyeing the phone at the end of the
hall.

“We already called and told them what was happening.
You can tell them the details later. Relax,” Del told him, dragging his long-time friend
into a back slapping man-hug.

“Congratulations, Dad,” Willow
said, waiting for Del
to step aside before hugging Tate and blinking back the sudden tears that
seemed to have sprung from nowhere. Tate disappeared back down the hallway and
promised to let them know when she was ready to see them. No sooner had he gone
than a whoop from the doorway brought a frown of warning from the nurse at the
front desk, as Maloney and Tupper came forward to greet them excitedly.

“It’s a girl,” Del informed them proudly.

“How heavy?” Maloney asked.

“Easy delivery?” Tupper enquired.

Willow
blinked—she wasn’t
sure she was seriously hearing these questions from two rough and ready war veterans.
“I didn’t know guys were interested in that kind of thing. I thought all you
did was take the father out for a drink and hand out cigars,” Willow quipped, eyeing them curiously.

“It’s a very emotional experience. There are so
many expectations placed on a first time mother—we have to be supportive,”
Tupper replied. “
Then
, we take Ox out
and celebrate,” he said with a grin.

“Summer supplied Ox with a few pregnancy magazines.
It can get boring on base,” Maloney explained when she turned a beseeching expression
upon him.

“Man, some of those photos,” Tupper said with a
shake of his head, and shuddered, “turned me off sex for a week.”

“A whole week, huh?” she said sympathetically,
as she sat back down beside Del,
sharing a small smile. Del held her gaze
lazily, but Willow
felt as though she were caught in a spider web and looked away to stare at the
ground as she straightened her back, praying for an excuse to escape. Her
prayer was answered in the form of Tate purposely striding down the hall
towards them.

“You can go in now,” he said to Willow, pointing down the
hall. “Room 223.”

Jumping to her feet, she sent heartfelt thanks
skyward, and left Tate accepting well wishes from his friends, ignoring Del’s brooding gaze as
it followed her abrupt exit.