Page 1 of Wyatt
CHAPTER ONE
“Is Mama coming home?” whispered the little boy, his face buried into her chest. He’d done nothing but cry for the last forty-eight hours. He was confused, scared, and there was no way that she could explain it all to him.
Now it was her turn to cry.
How on earth would she be able to tell him that his mother was dead? The same heart defect that took her parents now took his mother, and his father was nowhere to be found.
“Oh, Wyatt, sweet boy,” cooed Maggie. “She’s in heaven, but she’ll be watching over you forever.”
“Who will I live with?” he asked, wiping his eyes. “Will I go to an orphan house?
“No, honey. No orphan house. You’ll live with me,” she smiled. “I can take care of you.”
He cuddled closer, and she wondered if she could take care of him. Her own life was in absolute chaos. Crazy television hosts were hunting her, hoping to expose any weaknesses she might have. It was all a nightmare.
Right now, the only thing that mattered was Wyatt. Whatever they said would be a lie, and whatever she needed to do to protect Wyatt, she would do it.
Thankfully, Maggie, in her search for Wyatt’s father, found a guardian angel and so much more.
Hunter G. O’Neal, or HG, wasn’t the father of Wyatt. Neither was one of the other two in the triplet ring, but they did recognize when a woman was in trouble and desperately needed help. With kindness, compassion, empathy, and strength, they enveloped Maggie and Wyatt into their family and into theirhearts. They protected them both and, in the process, brought justice for hundreds of victims.
HG turned out to be everything Maggie had ever hoped for in a husband. More than that, he was an amazing father to Wyatt, never questioning the thought of taking him on as his own son.
Along the way, they’d discovered that Wyatt’s biological father had been a Marine who was killed in combat. He was mixed race, and Wyatt’s mother was Caucasian. All of that made Wyatt even lighter than his father, with a beautiful coloring of his skin and hair. It was ironic that in Louisiana, he looked Creole.
His biological father had no siblings, and his parents had died years before. Wyatt had no one except his Aunt Maggie. And HG.
His sweet, caramel skin looked as if it had a constant beach tan, while the soft curls of dark brown hair framed his face.
Wyatt hated the curls as a young boy, always cutting them close to his head, just shy of shaving his head. He had a gift for numbers and names, rarely forgetting anything he saw or heard. An honors student in high school, he almost decided to take the college route instead of the military.
But there was something about the men at Belle Fleur. Something that made you stop, listen, watch, and admire. It wasn’t just their physical presence. Although that certainly made one stop and notice.
It was their intellect, their humor, the very core of their beings. Devoted to their families and friends, they vowed to protect everyone, especially those who could not protectthemselves. That notion of protecting, serving, and helping those in need never left Wyatt’s thoughts.
He stared at the college brochures and applications on the kitchen table and felt his father’s hands on his shoulders. They were big, wide hands. The hands of a man who worked hard. He could feel the calluses through the fabric of his shirt and smiled to himself.
“Whatever you decide, Wyatt, we’ll be behind you. This is your choice. You’ve been offered opportunities to play ball for some of these schools, or you can choose others and just focus on academics.”
“What if I don’t want to go?” he asked quietly.
“We’ve told you before. Whatever you decide to do, we’ll help you to succeed at it.” Wyatt nodded at HG, then noticed that his father had taken a seat beside him. “What’s really on your mind?”
“Why did you do it?” HG stared at him, tilting his head. He wasn’t sure if he was asking him why he joined the military. “I mean, I know why Aunt Maggie did it. We’re related. But why did you take on, adopt a child that wasn’t yours, and love me in a way that made me never think I was anything except yours.”
HG laughed, nodding his head.
“That’s easy, son. You are mine. You were always meant to be mine, Wyatt. I knew the minute I met you that I couldn’t walk away from you or Maggie. I absolutely fell in love with you, son. That face, those curls, your laugh. It melted me.
“I’m so damn proud of you, I nearly burst every day. I know now how my father felt when the three of us were born. There’s something about seeing your son molded into such a fine man, doing all the things you hoped he would. Being kind, intelligent, caring, smart, all the things parents hope for.
“There was never a doubt, Wyatt. You’re my son.”
“Dad,” he said, wiping tears from his eyes. “I want to be like you. I want to be like you and Uncle Bone and Uncle Hoot and all of the uncles here.”
“You want to be a Marine?” he asked, trying not to show his hope that his son would choose the life he chose.
“Would you be disappointed if I wanted to be a SEAL or an aviator?” asked Wyatt.
