Page 14 of The Rough Ride

She closed her eyes and let the pump do its thing. There was nothing intentional about Erin’s comment.Move on.Chalk it up to one of those moments when a stranger says something and has no idea that they offended. It happens to people all the time.

Why would anyone see the size of the employee manual and set it aside? The major hired only the most qualified applicants. Erin must have a resume of redeeming qualifications.

Eh, what the hell. She’d forgive and do her best to forget. First day faux-pas. No biggie.Get over it, Nelson.Let it go.

Liz tapped a finger on the armrest.

What was it that was vaguely familiar about Erin?

Liz pulled backfrom her computer screen and glanced at the clock. She’d been sifting through her online identities for hours, answering posts, tweaking her responses, all in an effort to sift for more information. Nobody was biting today.Not much chatter. The unusual lack of conversation left her eyes watering and her brain searching for stimuli.

She kept drifting to Nick, last night’s surprise visit, and their dinner. The fact that he tried to have the vasectomy reversed after Paris revealed what? He was heartbroken that she had said no? He’d had a change of heart?Did it even matter?

Hell yes, it mattered. What if his test results got confused with someone else’s? What if he just took longer to heal and wasn’t shooting blanks anymore? She scrubbed her face with both hands and paced the small office. Fresh coffee would be nice, but she nixed the idea. The moment she opened the office door, she’d lose her train of thought.

She’d been sure the young officer she’d hooked up with was Ella’s biological father. So sure, in fact, that she’d mentioned her pregnancy to him in an email while recuperating in Germany. She’d been appalled at his response. “Well darlin’, guess you better get that taken care of real soon.”

She didn’t email him again.

It had been a deep, personal decision that came down to one thing.

Ella had survived the minefield, too.

If her little bean of a fetus had survived that blast, the cold shadow of death hovering over them as they’d waited for evacuation, the transport to Germany, the surgeries, the blood loss, and the drugs—then her baby had earned the right to live. It was the quickest and clearest decision she’d ever made in her life.

No regrets. Then or now.

Even if it cost her Nick.

And there was the sucker punch to her gut. The past fifteen months had been the loneliest of her life. She’d neverlied to him before, and each day that she hid Ella’s existence was another blow that might drive his heart from her forever.

She’d survived combat, butforeverwithout Nick?

I have to tell him.But it would be so much easier if she knew if he was Ella’s daddy. Well now, that’s easy enough—not. How would she do it? Hand him a pee cup and ask for a sperm sample? Or maybe request a mouth swab because she wanted to investigate his ancestry?

Liz chuckled.

She knew her Nick. With any one of those options, she’d end up pinned beneath him laughing in a compromised position. And he’d love every minute of it. To be honest, so would she.

She needed to soldier-up and tell him. She’d hid it too long. At first, the physical recovery from the blast had overwhelmed her. She’d spent weeks between rehab and an armchair by her hospital room window staring outside. She didn’t look ahead but digested, tried to accept the life forced upon her. She’d grieved for the foot that no longer existed. A fog had enveloped her as she struggled for purchase and worked to achieve physical and emotional balance.

And then she flew home to Walter Reed. The endless cycle of more rehab, prenatal visits, and the daunting challenge to jump-start her life consumed her. She could’ve told Nick. They’d talked on the phone a hundred times. But all she’d wanted was space and distance. If she’d allowed him in her life at that point, she would’ve had to deal with his tragic emotions about the baby. Ella was her decision and hers alone.

She’d always been Nick’s sanctuary. He’d placed his heart in her hands years ago, and it would have been too much todeal with as she recovered. Especially because he’d made sure that children were never a part of their future.

And she couldn’t blame him for that. The abuse he’d suffered as a child was unimaginable to her. While they’d both had middle-class upbringings, her family life boasted of love and support while his nights and weekends belied fear and terror.

She rubbed her arms in an attempt to drive the cold shivers away. The only way to heal their relationship meant she had to risk harming it.

She’d tell him.

She’d invite him over for dinner. Keep Ella at the house, introduce her to him, and spell out the situation.

Her heart pounded just thinking about it.

She had a lot of explaining to do.

11

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