The Scrapbook by Lynnette Kent

Author:Lynnette Kent
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2007-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Four hours later, poor little Ella was snuggled in her crib under her favorite blanket, with one rosy cheek pillowed on her bandaged hands. The doctor had recommended antihistamine syrup to keep her drowsy and less frustrated with the wrappings. Luckily, most of the cuts were superficial—her palms had needed only a few stitches each.

Courtney and M.J. had been perfect angels during the entire ordeal, and Celia didn’t have the heart to investigate the mishap any further. She made up the sofa bed, put a fairy tale videotape into the player Mack had bought just before leaving on the cruise, and kissed them both good-night.

Then she went into her room, curled up on the bed and gave in to the shakes and the tears.

She didn’t realize she’d fallen asleep until the jangle of the phone woke her up. Expecting Bea, she mumbled, “Hey.”

“Celia?” Mack’s deep voice rolled over her like a warm ocean wave. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, Mack.” She sat up, cradling the phone against her ear. “I was asleep, that’s all.”

“Sorry to wake you. This is the least busy time to get the phone.”

“No, it’s all right. I don’t mind. How are you?”

“Good.” He hesitated. “Good. How are the kids?”

“Fine. Well…no, really, they’re fine.”

“What happened?” he asked, with a laugh in his voice.

She explained, glossing over the seriousness of the aquarium disaster. “Ella was cured with a hamburger meal and an ice cream cone. There’s nothing ice cream can’t fix.”

“I’ve noticed that.” There was a silence, tense but not angry. “I hear our change of orders has made it to the news reports.”

“You’re going to Iraq?”

“That general vicinity, yeah. Just a precaution.”

“What are you going to do there?”

“Probably just surveillance. Flyovers, reconnaissance. Nothing to worry about.”

And yet you called… “I’ll pass the word around.”

“Great.”

Another silence, filled with the crackle of ship-to-shore static. “Celia, I wanted to say—” A burst of noise in the background drowned his voice.

“Mack? I couldn’t hear you.”

“A bunch of guys just came in. Sorry. Listen, I’ve thought a lot about—” More static, more background interference. The next word she heard was a curse. “Keep it down—I’m on the phone!”

The response to his demand was even louder. Celia heard him say something that might have been “tomorrow” or “sorry,” then “love.” Then nothing.

She hung up quickly, in case he tried to reach her again. After an hour, hope faded away.

At least he’d called. He’d wanted to talk, cared enough to hear her voice before he went into danger. That was more encouragement than she’d had in the last month.

Or maybe he was expecting the worst, and didn’t want to die without smoothing over that awful fight. Maybe he’d sent his love to the kids. She didn’t doubt his devotion to Mack, Jr., Courtney and Ella. Mack might be too rigid in his expectations of M.J., somewhat uncertain about what to do with little girls, but the three of them meant the world to their dad.

If only Celia had the same confidence in his feelings for her.

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