SEAL’s Doorstep Baby

1. JACOB

Chapter one

JACOB

I am aware of a sound but its meaning doesn’t register through the whirling rush of emotion inside my head. It’s like a tunnel, a waterfall, a crash—a crash like Emily’s—the kind that rips through everything, like cars plowing into the sides of buildings.

I blink.

The doorbell is ringing.

Standing up is a Herculean effort. I’ve done hard things in my life. Impossible things—things that took years of training, relentless discipline, and the full encouragement of the U.S. Navy just to get me to consider doing them. Still, standing up to answer the doorbell after learning my little sister has died is the hardest thing I’ve done in my entire life.

I move as best I can. If I hadn’t spent the last decade of my life as a navy SEAL, I don’t think I would have been able to. Thankfully, my body is trained to work under immense pressure, with or without functioning mental faculties.

I swing open the door, too numb to care about who is on the other side. All I know is that it won’t be Emily.

It’ll never be Emily again.

On the other side of my front door, Allison Smith is there, holding a baby.

From the look on her face, Allison has clearly heard about Emily’s death. A small, not entirely numb part of my brain wonders who the hell told her. I didn’t ask many questions of the police officers who arrived at my door earlier this morning, but as Emily’s only next of kin, I assumed it would fall on me to tell people.

People like Allison, who is—or was—my sister’s best friend.

I stare at her for a few seconds. My mind splutters, trying to think of what I should say.

I finally land on, “Hey.”

Allison shifts the baby in her arms. My eyes are drawn instantly to the baby’s wide, curious eyes.

“I didn’t know you had a kid.” I say.

Allison’s jaw tightens. “You don’t know a lot about me. How long has it been? Nine, ten years?”

If it was yesterday, the look in her eyes might make me feel badly about how we ended—and how we started. Both of us only just adults—me the night before shipping out, Allie the night before college started. Both of us afraid but too proud to admit it—the way I snuck out, and the fact she never called…

But it’s not yesterday. So I just raise my brow.

Allison huffs. She cuts her eyes away, and I watch how they fill with tears. Through the haze of my own whirling mind, I feel a bit bad.

“You heard about Emily?” I murmur.

Allison closes her eyes. She nods a little, her chin jutting out. “I got your address from her. It’s on a postcard you sent. On the fridge.”

This stings me for some reason I can’t explain.

She doesn’t say anything else. In her arms, the baby gurgles.

“Is that why you’re here?” I continue, tearing my eyes away from the kid.

Allison’s expression shifts. It forms again and again, not quite landing on an emotion I can read myself. I fight back a wave of irritation. I know how close Emily and Allison are—were. How close they were.

But she’s not family. I don’t have any family, not anymore. And I am not interested in helping someone else grieve right now.

“No,” she says eventually, clearly reluctant.

I lose my battle to not be annoyed. “Then can you get to the point? I’ve got a funeral to plan, you know.”

Allison recoils like she’s been hit. I scowl. She scowls right back.

“This is Maddison.”

My fingers curl around the door. I have to tighten my muscles to stop myself from slamming it. “I don’t want to meet your kid—”

She gives me a look, sharp and disapproving.

“Maddison Fischer.”

I look at the kid. I look at Allison.

“I might not be the smartest man in the world,” I say dryly, raising my brows, “but even I know that sex ten years ago doesn’t equal a newborn now.”

“She’s not a newborn, you dumbass,” Allison snaps. “And she’s not yours.”

“Obviously—”

“She’s Emily’s.”

I stop.

Allison does, too.

For a brief moment, I can’t breathe. I can’t think. Everything inside of me is frozen. More so even than when the police told me my baby sister was dead; this is the most shocked I’ve ever been.

Slowly, my gaze falls to the baby.

A part of me doesn’t want to believe it.

After all, how could life be so cruel? To take my only family from me and then dump this—this—stranger, this innocent, new stranger, that I can’t even—

How could Emily be so cruel? To never tell me that she had a child. That she was pregnant.

But the baby’s got Emily’s eyes. My mother’s eyes.

“Who’s the dad?”

“The dad?” Allison repeats, eyes narrowing. “That’s your question?”

“Well, it’s not you, and you’re the one who has her, so—”

“His name is Jeff. He’s not in the picture.”

I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse. “Sounds like he’s about to be.”

Allison’s eyes widen. She searches my face for a moment. “You know what, screw you.”

“Screw me?” I repeat incredulously. “Screw me? Screw you, Allison!”

“You find out your sister has a child and—”

“You think you can just come here—” I interrupt, my voice rising.

“You have always been a Jerk—”

“You’re a bit—”

“Watch your language!” Allison shouts, covering Maddison’s ears.

My eyes drop to the child again.

All at once, all the fight drains out of me. “I’m sorry,” I murmur. She looks at me with incredulous eyes. “I am… I am sorry.”

She sniffs, pressing her cheek to the top of the kid’s head.

I bite the inside of my cheek hard enough to pierce the skin. When I taste blood, I stop.

“Come in,” I say, standing to the side. I gesture.

Allison looks at me warily, but I can see the anger is draining from her, too. She’s covering the baby’s body with her own, pulling her close.

I lead them inside, pretending not to notice the way Allison’s eyes are analyzing my house.

I’ve only been here for a month. Not even.

After deployment, I wasn’t sure where to go. My head wasn’t screwed on right. I only came back here because Emily lives here.

Lived here.

I never made it to see her.

I cancelled last weekend. We were going to get dinner. She wanted to update me on her life.

I look at Maddison.

I cancelled.

I scrub my hands down my face. Allison sits on the couch I’ve led her to, and the baby sits on her lap, looking around.

My throat tight, I gesture.

“How old is she?” I ask.

Allison’s gaze is sharp, but she eventually gives in. “Eleven months.”

I inhale. “A year. She kept this from me for a year—”

“You didn’t call!” Allison snaps. “She waited, you know? When she first got pregnant—”

“Stop.”

Something in my voice must be firm because uncharacteristically, Allison listens.

She looks away. I take the opportunity to look at this little girl.

Maddison looks back at me. There’s something on her cheek. I squint, looking closer.

The kid’s eyes are bright and big, round as saucers, as her gummy smile tries to form over and over again, falling each time like she’s still not sure how to do it.

It’s a birthmark, I realize. The mark on her cheek.

Her chubby hand lifts, touching it.

I lift mine, too, touching the mark that’s still there, light and small as it has become over the years. I have the same birthmark as Maddison.

My heart breaks all over again.

“I’ll take her.” I say finally.

Allison’s eyes snap back to mine.

Her face is hard and unreadable. She pulls the baby closer, her arms tightening.

Looking down at the child, Allison’s eyes fill with tears.

Although I barely know Allison—ten years changes a lot, after all, and I wouldn’t say we knew each other well back then—I still feel a pang of sympathy for whatever she’s feeling.

“I’ve been there for every fever,” Allison whispers, gently pushing some of the light hair out of Maddison’s face. “I went to her doctor’s visits. I was there for the delivery. I’ve had her overnight. I just… I thought… I always thought if something happened to Emily, I’d have Maddison. I’m her godmother, you know. I always thought that meant it’d be me.”

Although I’ve just met this child, a burst of fear runs through me.

And, as loath as I am to admit it…

Relief.

Relief fills me.

If Allison takes Maddison, if that’s what Emily wanted… I mean, it’s not like Emily even wanted me to know that she had a baby. Maybe this is Emily’s plan. Maybe that’s what Allison is here to tell me—

“But I know,” Allison continues, her voice thick. “I know that Emily would have wanted you to take care of Maddie if anything ever happened to her. That's one of the reasons why she was so excited when you moved back, Jacob. She never put me as Maddie’s guardian, though I said she could. She never wanted to file it until she talked to you. Emily wanted Maddison to always know her family. She told me. I know what she’d want.”

Guilt flares, as does the panic. My palms start to sweat. I wish against all odds that Allison would take it back, take it all back.

I don’t want to be in charge of the baby.

I don’t want any of this.

Crying now, Allison presses a shaky kiss to Maddison’s forehead.

“This is your niece,” she says through tears. “And now you have to raise her.”