Sandra Hill - [Vikings II 04] (36 page)

BOOK: Sandra Hill - [Vikings II 04]
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“Is that a
hmmm
you are interested, or a
hmmm
you are not open to new and creative ideas?”

“Definitely interested. Where is this SEAL spot on your body?” He pretended to lean down and peek under her dress.

“Not there, silly. The difference between the Viking S-Spot and the SEAL S-Spot is that this one is on
your
body. It will be my gift to you.”

His blue eyes lit up with interest.

A short time later, as Alison stood and whisked her hands together dramatically, Ragnor lay back on the bench and pretended to have died. “You give good gift, milady.”

Alison only hoped that this wouldn’t be her last gift to him.

Beer wisdom …

He should have gone with her, Ragnor realized almost immediately.

“You should have gone with her,” Torolf said, as if reading his mind as he’d always been wont to do. Some things never changed.

It was past midnight, the party long over, and they were seated on rocking chairs on the back porch, swilling down more mead on top of all they’d already imbibed. He wondered idly if he’d be able to walk to his bed in the spare bedchamber when he got up, or if he should just sleep in this chair tonight. More likely, he would end up face down on the wooden floor.

“She said she would call me when she arrived at her hotel tonight, but she has not called.”

“Don’t worry. She’s all right. She probably didn’t want to disturb you. Women are stubborn that way.”

“But she said she would call.”

“Women lie.”

“Men lie, too. Remember the time you told Olga Cross Eyes that she looked very pretty in the hay byre with her dress up over her head.”

“That is beside the point. I cannot picture you with children.”

“Not
children
, for the love of Frigg. One child.”

Torolf laughed. “Both of us grew up in that madhouse of screaming, whining children. We made a pact when we were twelve never to have children of our own.”

“I believe we were changing Kolbein’s shit-laden nappy at the time,” Ragnor pointed out. “That alters a man’s thinking somewhat.”

“So now you want children?”

Ragnor had to ponder for a moment. “If you had asked me that three months ago, I would have said nay. But the instant I learned of this babe growing in Alison’s belly, I knew … I just knew it would be precious to me.”

“It’s Alison who makes the difference, then?”

“Methinks so. Plus, I have been thinking of late that the big family we grew up in was not all that bad. Not that I would want to have a
large
number of babes with Alison. One will do. Or two, if I am coerced.”

“Don’t try to tell me she coerced you into bed. That I will never believe.” Torolf grinned at him. “She would have nothing to do with me. Even when I only tried to be friendly, she gave me the cold shoulder.”

“Ah, but I was always the more handsome of us two.”

“Your conceit hasn’t changed at all.”

“Are we
drukkin
?”

“Absolutely.”

The two brothers grinned at each other.

“Why did you say I should have gone with her?” Ragnor tried to lick his lips, but they seemed to have disappeared.

“Because women say one thing when they mean another. They want us to guess what they really think,” Torolf explained.

“So, when Alison said she didn’t want me to go with her, she probably meant the opposite?”

“Exactly.”

“And this philosophy of yours was taught to you by what fool?”

“Our father.”

The two of them grinned at each other some more.

“He seems happy here … you all do.”

“We are. I’m not sure why we were all sent here, or how, but every member of our family seems to have found a niche.”

“A niche, huh? What do you suppose my niche is?”

“Well, with a baby on the way, I would say your niche is with Alison, wherever that might be.”

“But what work would I do here? I ran the family estates in the Norselands. I fought in wars when so inclined. It was a different world, calling for different skills.”

“Pfff to that! You can do whatever you want here. You could help Father run Blue Dragon.”

“I know naught about grapes.”

“You could work with Uncle Rolf at Rosestead, prancing around like a Viking warrior.”

Ragnor reached over to punch his brother’s arm and almost fell out of his chair.

“You could teach mentally ill people to exercise at Uncle Jorund’s clinic.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun.”

“Hey, maybe you could go to medical school and be a doctor. You and Alison could be a team.”

“Somehow I do not see myself sitting in a classroom for years. And I have ne’er been drawn to the healing arts.”

“Father has a friend who will get you some forged documents stating that you were born here. Don’t want them putting you on display in a museum somewhere to show what a thousand-year-old cock looks like.”


It
is fine.”

“Well, I guess so if you got the good doctor pregnant already.”

“How about you, Torolf? What will you do now?”

“Return to SEALs,” he replied without hesitation. “It’s always been my dream. In some ways, your coming here helped keep my dream alive, brother. With my injury, they never would have let me continue.” Torolf gave him a quick shoulder squeeze to show his thanks.

Ragnor frowned with concern. “Since I went through the last few weeks of training in your place, won’t you find it difficult to just pick up where I left off?”

“Nah! I already have a pilot’s license, and I jumped more times than I can count when I worked fighting forest fires. Besides, I’m not saying it will be easy, but training isn’t over, just because you … rather, I … graduated from BUD/S. It’s just the first phase, buddy. And if that’s not enough, I’ll confide in Cage. He’s a good guy. He’ll help me catch up.”

Ragnor nodded. If he could survive after being dumped in the middle of SEALs training hell, his brother could surely survive the continuation. They were Vikings, after all.

“Back to you and Alison, they do have condoms here, you know.”

“I know, and I used them all the time. It was just a momentary slip.”

“A momentary slip. Do not dare stop there.”

“In a broom closet.”

Torolf’s mouth gaped open with disbelief; then he let out a burst of laughter. “Oh, Ragnor, I have missed you sorely.”

You never know what you’ve got till you lose it …

After stopping midway back to Coronado for a late dinner, Alison decided to drive through instead of staying in a hotel for the night alone. She should have called Ragnor, but it was midnight, and she didn’t want to awaken anyone at Blue Dragon. She would call in the morning.

She was not unhappy as she made the trip home. Those eight hours gave her lots of time to think and plan. If Ragnor were here, he would say, “Nay, nay, no thinking!” Alison smiled at his words in her head. But she was a logical person, and she thought with her head now, not some other body part, like her heart.

One, she refused to marry Ragnor for the sake of the baby. Not even for the love they both professed. That love had not stood the test of time yet. That did not mean that they wouldn’t marry at some point. They needed to spend time together, maybe even live
together for a while. He wouldn’t like that, but that was her decision on the matter … for now. He would try to change her mind. She couldn’t wait.

Two, if they didn’t marry, Ragnor would share custody of the baby. No way would she deny her child a father. And, man oh man, what an extended family this little one would have!

Three, she would have to inform her father and her brothers of her pregnancy, ASAP. And her superior officers at the base, even though her work shouldn’t be affected.

Four, related to that, she would decline the unspoken offer to join the new Liberty Teams. Oddly, she did not feel all that bad about it. She was beginning to wonder if perhaps the dream of becoming a SEAL hadn’t begun to fade a long time ago.

Five, she would tell Lillian about the baby, and perhaps the widow would be willing to help her with some childcare.

With all these decisions made, Alison smiled and patted her stomach. “You and me, baby … and maybe your daddy, too.”

She arrived back at her house about four a.m. and went immediately to bed, where she slept soundly till daylight crept through the windows. But it wasn’t daylight that had awakened her. It was cramps … no, more like mild contractions in her belly. And she felt wetness beneath her on the sheets.

Oh, my God! Oh, my God!
She stumbled to the bathroom, where she discovered what amounted to a heavy menstrual flow. As a physician, she knew that she was losing the baby. Quickly she started to dress in hopes of making her way to the clinic. Perhaps the doctors there could do something to stop this.

But there was no time. Every five minutes or so, she was passing clots along with the flow. In the end, she just sat on the bathroom floor, propped against the tub, and cried.
Oh, baby! Sweet baby! I am so sorry. Please, God, take this little child into your arms. If there is a heaven, please welcome my baby there.

Later, she would go see her gynecologist/obstetrician, but, barring complications, she hadn’t been far enough advanced in her pregnancy to require a D & C or any other procedure. She knew what the doctor would say. Some pregnancies were doomed from the beginning. It wasn’t her fault. There would be other children. The whole routine.

Alison washed herself, now that the worst was over, put on a heavy pad and a long flannel nightgown—her comfort attire—and crawled into bed. Maybe when she woke up this time, she’d find this had all been a dream. No, she wouldn’t delude herself.

Before she went to sleep, she realized there was one thing she had to do first.

I have to call Ragnor and tell him our baby is gone.

Goodbye, baby …

“There’s a phone call for you.”

Ragnor sat up so abruptly in the bed that his head swam and his eyes blurred. But then, that was probably due to the excessive amount of mead he’d imbibed the night before.

He turned toward the doorway where his new stepmother, Angela, stood staring at him with amusement. There was a mean streak in some females that gave them enjoyment on seeing men suffer from the alehead.

“It’s Alison,” she said, handing a cordless tell-a-fone to him.

“Oh.” He took the tell-a-fone from her, meanwhile glancing at the clock on the bedside table. Noon! Holy Thor, he had never slept this late.

Angela gave him a little wave and closed the door after her.

“Alison, where are you? I should have gone with you. I realized that as soon as you left. Are you back in Coronado?” He was blathering, and he was not sure why. Perhaps he sensed something bad about to happen, but that was a ridiculous notion.

“I’m home. And, no, you shouldn’t have come with me, and I don’t want you blaming yourself, do you hear me?”

Ragnor’s skin prickled all over and not from the effects of his foolish overdrinking. Alison’s voice was soft, as if she’d been weeping. Something must have happened.
Blame? For what?
“What is it, dearling?”

“I lost the baby.”

“What baby?” His fuzzy brain appeared to have shut down.

“Our baby.”

“Where did you lose it?” He still wasn’t comprehending what she said.

“Oh, Ragnor, I had a miscarriage this morning.”

A low groan of agony emerged from his throat afore he had a chance to catch it. “I am so sorry.” And he was. Truly, until that moment, he had not realized how much he wanted the babe. And, dammit, it
was
his fault. He should have gone with her. He might have been able to prevent this from happening.

“Me, too.” She was definitely weeping now.

“Are you all right? Are you in a hospitium?”

“No. I’m home. And I’m all right physically. Mentally … emotionally … it will take me a few days to accustom myself to not being pregnant anymore.”

“I’ll come back right away.”


No!
” she said in a panic. “Don’t come back … not right away. Spend this time with your family. I’m thinking about going to visit my father for a few days.”

She was lying, Ragnor sensed. Her father had not known of the pregnancy. She wouldn’t want him to know now.

“I’m coming home,” he insisted.

She said nothing, probably because she was holding in her sobs.

“Wait for me, heartling. Please.”

Chapter Twenty-three

The Vikings are coming … and coming … and coming …

Alison was awakened late that afternoon by a loud knocking on her door. She’d taken a sleeping pill after talking with Ragnor and probably hadn’t heard the initial knocks.

Groggily she made her way to the door, peeked out through the peephole, then groaned. “Ragnor! I told you not to come,” she said, even as she opened the door and he stormed in, taking her immediately into his arms.

She’d told him that she didn’t need him here, that she was all right, but she realized now as he held her tight against him, making soothing noises against her hair, that she did in fact need him. She broke down, sobbing against his neck, wetting his T-shirt.

“I am sorry, dearling. I should have been here with you. But I will make it better now.”

“Ragnor, you can’t bring this baby back.”

“I know I cannot bring the babe back, but we will make it through this ordeal together. And we will make other babes, that I promise you.”

“You don’t want children,” she blubbered out between sobs.

“Yea, I do. With you, leastways. But mayhap you will not want children with me now that you have a chance to join those Liberty Teams.”

“I can’t think about any of that now.”

“I know, I know.” He sat down in the rocking chair and arranged her on his lap, rocking gently. “Like a small, wounded animal you are. My heart nigh breaks for you … for us, actually.”

“Where do you want this stuff?” It was his brother Torolf speaking from the open doorway. He’d carried up two pieces of luggage and a white ice-cooler chest. To Alison, he winked and said, “Nice negligee, sweetheart.”

BOOK: Sandra Hill - [Vikings II 04]
3.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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