Having The Soldier's Baby. Tara Taylor Quinn

though to emphasize the word. Maybe knowing that emphasis was needed on her side of the room?

      “He’s alive!” She stood, clasped her hands, teared up, as all three officers remained seated, watching her. Seemingly concerned, as opposed to just being polite.

      So though she needed to run outside and scream to the world, she figured that could wait until she was alone. She sat. Faced them.

      “What’s wrong?” It didn’t matter what they told her. Her man was alive. They could get through anything else.

      Winston was alive! And she had a baby to give him! There could be no mistake in that timing. Finally! Yes! Life was making sense again and...

      “He’s been living with extremists for the past two years, Emily,” the chaplain spoke now. “He’s not the man you knew him to be.”

      They had no idea what she knew of Winston—bodies changed, thoughts changed, even hearts changed sometimes, but souls...they were forever. And that’s what she knew. Souls didn’t change.

      Winston had shared his with her. She still kept it tightly held within her heart.

      “I realize that combat takes its toll,” she said now. Had he lost his legs? Or maybe his face had been blown up? Whatever, she didn’t care—other than for the pain he’d suffered and could still be suffering. “It’s fine. I’m fully capable of handling it. Just tell me where he is and when I can see him.”

      “That’s just it, ma’am,” Hall said. “He doesn’t want to see you. Not yet.”

      So he was that bad. She shook her head. Confused. Winston knew that while she was wildly attracted to him, physical appearance was only a small part of the bond between them.

      “Not yet.” She homed in on what she felt she could master in the moment. “When, then?”

      “Soon,” Chaplain Hall said while the medic remained alert, but mute. “He’s going to contact you, but felt that just dropping in on you would be too much...”

      Too much? Frowning, she was done with the polite talk.

      “Tell me what’s going on. What happened to him? He’s capable of just dropping in? Where is he? And how long have you known he’s alive?”

      “We aren’t at liberty to answer all of that,” Hall said, his hat in his hands, literally. “I can assure you that physically, your husband is fine. In top shape. Mentally he’s as sharp as ever.”

      Which left... “And emotionally?”

      “He’s a changed man, Mrs. Hannigan. You need to be prepared.”

      Suddenly she didn’t want to hear any more. Not from a team. Not from strangers. “Do his parents know?”

      “No. He’s only been back in the States a short time. Because he was already declared dead, and because he’s of sound mind, and because everything about him right now, everything he’s been through, everything he knows, is of a sensitive nature, his wishes to remain as though dead were granted for a short time.”

      “So now they’re being told as well?”

      “Not yet. But soon.”

      “So I’m to keep quiet about this?” Finally, a charge she could grasp hold of. Something she could be a part of.

      “That’s up to you, Emily.” Chaplain Blaine spoke again. “Winston made it clear that if you needed to talk with your parents, or his, you were to be at liberty to do so. We’d only ask that you give the navy a chance to visit them first.”

      She shook her head. Her husband obviously hadn’t wanted their families to know yet. He’d have reasons. “I’m fine to wait,” she said. “For as long as he needs.”

      Forever, if that’s what it took him to be able to find his way back to her.

      Because he would. She knew he would.

      And when he did, she’d have a gift that would heal his hurting heart as only a miracle could do.