She braced a hand on the sill as the next pain took hold. Time to wake the soldiers. She sat on the edge of the bed and put her hand on Bennett’s shoulder. He startled awake, his eyes wide, his mind back in his dream. Was he with Noah?
“It’s time,” she said softly.
“Time?” At first confusion clouded his face, but it cleared as sleep was cast off. “It’s time. Holy shit, it’s time.” He jumped up, more agile than she was, and stood in the middle of the floor, his hands up as if frozen in indecision, which was very unlike him.
“Get dressed.” She gave his butt a pat. While she was sure the female staff at the hospital would appreciate Bennett Caldwell in nothing but boxer briefs, she didn’t want Adele distracted with a spate of heart attacks.
She did the same, pulling on stretchy yoga pants and a T-shirt that hugged her belly. Bennett returned, buttoning his jeans, a lost look on his face.
“Grab my ba-a-a-ahhh … dammit.” Another contraction took hold, this one stronger. She grabbed Bennett’s forearms.
The pain faded and she loosened her grip, but her fingernails left indentations on his skin. Color had drained from his face. “Is this normal?”
“Totally, but we’d better hustle.”
She’d never seen Bennett move so fast. Laughter bubbled up, as did anticipation. She couldn’t wait to meet their son or daughter. The contrast to her labor with Ben was stark. That day had been filled with dread and fear. While there was still fear present today, a well of optimism had filled over the last year.
Her mom came out into the hallway, holding her robe together. “What’s going on?”
“The baby didn’t want to wait until this afternoon.” Another pain shot through her body, no longer confined to her belly. She puffed until it waned. “Contractions are coming on fast. We need to go. I don’t think it will be long. Could you call Adele and let her know we’re on the way?”
“Of course.” Her mom gave her a brief hug, shooing them away. “I’ll bring Ben up afterward. Love you, Harper Lee.”
“Love you, too. I don’t know what I would have done without you.” Tears blurred her vision, her emotions careening like a pinball machine.
They made it to the hospital—barely. Adele whisked in as Harper was ready to push. The nurses were still scurrying around the room preparing the bed and everything the baby would need.
Holding on to Bennett’s hand and with his words of encouragement in her ear, Harper gave birth to a healthy nine-pound baby boy. After he was cleaned up and placed in her arms, she and Bennett admired his perfect fingers and toes. The baby blinked up at them with unfocused blue eyes. Blue eyes. The unexpected color left her reeling.
“We need a name, huh?” Bennett stroked over the baby’s delicate head with his big hand.
“I was sure it was a girl. I guess ‘Evangeline’ is a no-go.”
He huffed a laugh but turned serious. “I thought of a name, but I’m not sure how you’ll feel about it.”
“Try me.”
“What about … Noah?” Bennett whispered.
Her wave of surprise ebbed. After all, she had named Noah’s son after Bennett. The name clicked into place like the last piece of a puzzle. She leaned over to brush her lips over the straggle of baby hair, breathing in his essence. “Perfect. I love you, Noah.”
Author’s Note
This book wouldn’t have been possible without my editor, Eileen Rothschild, having the confidence that I could branch out and tackle a new genre. It’s a true joy to brainstorm with her. Big thanks to Monique Patterson and Tiffany Shelton and to the copy editors and proofreaders and cover artists at St. Martin’s Press who make the machine run smoothly.
I also need to thank Brandon Webb for providing his expertise as a former SEAL and SEAL instructor to make the path my characters followed as accurate as possible. Brandon’s book The Red Circle, detailing his training as a SEAL, proved invaluable to get the feel and details of the harrowing BUD/S training every SEAL must complete.
I am not a military wife myself, so I have to send a huge, ginormous thank-you to Michelle Tonsmeire! Not only is she my bestie, but she is a military wife. Through the years I’ve witnessed her sacrifices on the home front as she moved from base to base with her family and survived as a single mom when her husband was deployed. I hope I portrayed her strength—and that of all the wives and husbands who keep things running at home when their partner is deployed—with truth and compassion.
My goal, when writing as Harper Lee Wilcox, the woman at the center of The Military Wife, was to portray her as a complex individual with her own goals and needs apart from being a wife and mother. The obstacles I threw at Harper, from having to choose between her own ambitions and her marriage to making new friends to raising a child without her husband, aren’t all that unusual. They are challenges faced by women every single day.
One exchange in particular highlights the unique challenges of being married to a man in the military, particularly a SEAL. “Most people don’t get it. The threat of death is abstract, but for women like us, the threat has moved into the spare bedroom.” Military spouses learn to deal with the underlying threat of losing their husband or wife while still working and raising their kids and living their lives. It’s a sacrifice not many of us will ever understand. For just a little while, I tried to put myself in Harper’s heart.
Through all the challenges Harper overcomes, I hope the reader will recognize her strength is not what she can handle on her own but what she accomplishes when she leans on others, and in turn, the help she extends to others when they are in need. Above all, The Military Wife is about the connections, big and small, that make life worth living.