Nita was more exhausted than she had been during Hell Week, the final test of their SEAL training, as she dragged her tired ass from the clean room located on the resort property next door to the Callahan compound in Costa Rica. Even though everything they needed had been delivered, the lab still had to be completely set up before they could release the live viruses into the new storage units. Complicating the process to the nth degree was the fact they had to do everything in self-contained clean suits. It was like walking around in a bulky space suit with a set of heavy scuba tanks strapped on.
Originally built to be a beachside grill that could withstand a category five hurricane, the large block building was certainly stout. It had its own water source and HVAC separate from the hotel. To ensure containment, a U.S. company specializing in mobile clean rooms had brought in their panelized system, totally encasing the interior and creating a leading edge facility.
Uncle Tom had insisted that every piece of equipment be hardened against another EMP, which included the air conditioning systems as well as backup generators for the backup generators. When the Ladies of Black Swan had arrived three days ago, the clean room itself had been completed, but the air systems were still under construction. Thank God somebody was smart enough to put several filters in place, as well as bacteria killing lights, within the ventilation. But all of that had taken time.
The scientists had just confirmed that Reston Ebola was an airborne virus and simple breathing could transmit the illness. It could penetrate through the mucus in the eyes and nose. This virus was one of the most dangerous on the planet.
Nita yearned for a solid six hours between soft sheets as she trudged over the well-worn path in fresh scrubs and a new pair of flip-flops. Her mind spun with too many possibilities to rest so she hung the right and walked along the sandy beach, allowing the lap of waves and warm sea breeze to calm her. Stretching out on one of the comfortable lounge chairs, she stared at the winking stars in the moonless sky.
She forced fresh salt air all the way to the bottom of her lungs to purify every corner of the recycled air she’d been breathing for days. As she had learned in yoga class, she let her muscles relax one-by-one. She never remembered reducing the tension in her calves.
The distant sound of a fussy baby brought Nita to her nightmare. Red glowed beneath the child’s chocolate skin. What the hell am I missing? The panicked thought raced through her mind once again, just as it had so many times since her last year in med school. She had delivered this precious life into the world on OB/GYN rotation. The newborn’s Apgar scores were ten-by-ten, excellent on anyone’s scale. Less than twenty-four hours later, the child had been moved to the neonatal intensive care unit and the mother had disappeared.
The supervising NICU physician had assured Nita that they had run every test possible, but had yet to discover why the child ran such a high fever. Wanting nothing more than to pull the baby from the hard plastic encasement, Nita had satisfied her need by running a gloved hand down the small hot cheek. She had to be missing something. She’d retracted her hands back through the protected circles and grabbed the file at the end of the tiny bed. Accustomed to looking at lab results, she scanned the long list of numbers. Damnably, nothing had stood out.
Her gaze had swept the many machines connected to the small body clad only in a diaper. What the fuck am I missing?
The baby’s cries had quieted as her legs and arms calmed as though she’d run out of energy. Nita had watched the elevated heart rate drop to one of sleep. The tiny chest had expanded and contracted several times. Satisfied the unnamed child would rest, she had gone on with her rounds.
Near the end of her shift, after delivering eight more babies, Nita had decided to drop into the NICU one last time before heading back to the barracks. The second she stepped in the door, her entire body had tensed.
The physician in charge of neonatology had stood over the opened incubator, tiny electrical probes in hand as a solid-tone alarm pierced the air. “Clear.” The nurses surrounding the crib had all lifted their hands. A second later, the heart machine had blipped a normal cadence. “We’ve got her back.” He’d scanned the machines before giving orders changing the medications.
Nita had walked over and stood on the other side of the clear plastic crib. A nurse had handed her a pair of gloves, and she’d deftly slid her fingers into the latex. “Have you figured out what’s wrong with her?”
The Army colonel had glanced up from the chart to meet her eyes. “Sometimes we never know, Lieutenant Banks. This one has me baffled. I wish the mother was here to give us more information.” He flipped the hardcover over the chart and returned it to its position at the bottom of the bed. With only the tilt of his head, he’d asked her to join him. As the nurses encapsulated the baby once again, checking all the tubes and machines, the older doctor had led Nita to the far side of the room.
The muffled cries of a small baby had seemed so real as Nita’s nightmare continued.
Quietly the senior officer had confessed, “I hate losing any patient, but I hate it even more when the mother just dumps the baby on us and disappears. I sent the MPs after her. The address she gave is an empty apartment. Her husband has been stationed at one of the forward operating bases in Iraq for nearly a year. We sent a message to him, but I doubt the child is his. Probably why she bolted.”
Nita wasn’t sure who she felt worse for, the baby struggling for life or the young enlisted man married to the cheating bitch who had abandoned her infant.
In the back of her mind, she’d known it had been days, but in the horrible dream it was only a second. She was back in the NICU.
The baby’s condition had continued to decline. The colonel had sent her records off to several specialists in the neonatology field, and the hospital had conducted a dozen more tests, all to no avail. Her tiny heart had stopped multiple times, but they had been able to revive her.
She’d held the child next to her chest, rocking in the chair beside the incubator when tiny brown eyes opened and looked directly into hers. Nita had sworn she saw a smile. The baby had exhaled long and smooth as it closed its eyes and went limp in Nita’s arms.
Dreading the next scene, Nita tried to force herself awake. The ending never changed.
She heard the colonel say, “Nita, I need your help.”
No, that’s not what the colonel had said. He had started barking orders for the crash cart.
“Nita, wake up, angel. I need your help.” The senior military officer’s voice didn’t sound quite right, but the words weren’t right either. He had never called her angel. That kind of familiarity was very much against regulations. The only person who called her angel was…
“Angel, I need you to wake up.”
She forced her eyes open and stared into Daniel Callahan’s bright blue eyes.
The baby from her dream whimpered. She certainly didn’t want to go back there.
Taking a deep breath, she focused on the dark-tanned man leaning over her. “Daniel, what the hell you doing here?”
“I need your help.” He thrust a baby into her arms. “Isabella is sick, and there’s no more medicine in camp.”
Heat poured off the child even through the light baby blanket as it shook its fists and kicked tiny legs. The stench of sour milk and diarrhea assaulted Nita’s nasal passages. She wanted to drop the child and run as far and fast as she could.
She didn’t do babies.
As she swung her legs over the side of the lounge, the child started to calm. Nita would just hand this baby back to Daniel and someone else could deal with it. His sister was inside and she’d always wanted a child but couldn’t have one of her own. Perhaps Katlin could take care of it. Grace was really good with kids. The three of them could handle this infant. The child wasn’t Nita’s problem.
Standing toe-to-toe with Daniel, Nita couldn’t help but look into the tiny face as it exhaled a long slow breath. The baby gazed at her with the same crystalline blue eyes as the man only inches away.
“You have to save my Bella.” The plea in Daniel’s voice shot straight to Nita’s soul, and the wall she’d built around her heart shook with the force of an earthquake.
She was holding Daniel’s baby.
A tempest of sensations screamed through her. The reality in her arms contradicted the heat in his kiss just days ago. Was he married? She glanced at the ring finger on his left hand and saw it empty, neither an untanned band nor indentation from a long-worn ring. But to have two children, he must be in some kind of committed relationship. She glanced between the two children looking for similarities. Could they have two different mothers? Nita couldn’t tell if the same woman had given birth to both children. Perhaps Daniel was not the man she had thought he was. Was he just like her own father? Nothing more than a sperm donor.
Longing for the father she never had, forced childhood memories to surface. As soon as she’d been old enough to realize her biological father would never be her dad—could never truly be part of her life because he had the perfect family who lived in the next town over—Nita had vowed never to repeat her mother's mistakes. She would certainly not fall in love with a man whose heart, and time, belonged to another woman and his children he’d created with her. She carefully guarded her heart so no man would ever capture it. That’s why she rarely spent more than one night with any man. The long-term emotional pain just wasn’t worth the physical gratification.
Daniel Callahan wasn’t worth another minute of her time. He’d gotten too close. After their all-night confessional, he knew her better than any man ever had. He knew her weaknesses. The kisses they had recently shared had seeped into the mortar of the wall she’d built around her heart and had started to dissolve the very foundation. She couldn’t allow that.
Shoving the baby back into Daniel’s arms, disgust at his lie of omission after all they’d shared for hours won over all the other emotions churning through her. How could he not tell her about his children? “Find somebody else to take care of your kid.” On the way into the house and, more importantly, her bedroom, she glanced over her shoulder. “Maybe Katlin or Grace will be willing to help you. I don’t have time for either you or your kid.”
“No worries, man. Mama will help us.” Until Santiago had spoken, Nita hadn’t even realized the housekeeper’s son was standing next to Daniel. She had to do a double-take when the Costa Rican native lifted a small blond boy onto his hip. Even from thirty feet away, she couldn’t mistake the child’s distinct Callahan eyes.
Fucking men.
“Uncle Ti, my tummy hurt.” The small voice was like a giant hand that scooped up the shards of Nita’s heart and ground it to dust.
She didn’t need this shit in her life. She didn’t need children…or a man. Especially Daniel Callahan. Her brain was simply too tired to analyze why the fact that he had kids upset her. What she needed was undisturbed sleep.
Nita walked quietly into the house so as not to wake her teammates and straight to her room.
But sleep wouldn’t come.
Voices drifted up from the large common area. She rolled to her side pulling an extra pillow over her ears.
More than once she heard her name mentioned. Her team knew of her aversion to dealing with children although they hadn’t a clue why. They were also very protective of her time and familiar with the long hours she’d been keeping in the clean room.
They hadn’t been idle, either. They’d been called out twice to evacuate Americans from the U.S. Embassy. Thanks to the cool new helicopter flown by Black Swan team two, they were able to deliver the evacuees to the fleet in the Pacific Ocean then return with equipment for the new lab.
Nita rolled over again and gave up on sleep. The five women of Black Swan team two seemed nice enough, but she’d been so busy she hadn’t even had time to get to know any of them. She did know that one was a nurse, or maybe she was a nurse practitioner. The one with short spiky hair if she remembered right.
Maybe she was downstairs taking care of Daniel’s kids. Or perhaps Rosita had taken on those duties. She’d raised three boys and two girls in addition to running the Callahan compound for over twenty-five years. Nita was sure the outstanding cook and housekeeper could handle a sick baby.
The last thing Nita remembered before exhaustion forced her body—and thankfully her mind—to sleep, was multiple footsteps coming up the dual staircases to the suites on the second floor.
Bright daylight and a warm ocean breeze streamed through the screen. She’d forgotten to close the door the night before, along with the blackout drapes. Glancing at her colorful watch with its purple band, a personal protest against the completely white clean room garb, Nita realized she’d actually achieved her goal of six hours sleep. Now she needed coffee and some of Rosita’s excellent breakfast before she returned to the space-like suit and recycled air of the clean room. Hopefully after today they wouldn’t need her extra pair of hands, and she could return to her duties as one of the Ladies of Black Swan.
She much preferred being Lieutenant Banks to Dr. Banks. Bullets were better than Bunsen burners any day of the week. Knowing she’d have to shower before entering the vestibule to the clean room, Nita bypassed the one in her room and headed straight downstairs for coffee when she realized she’d never changed out of the scrubs she’d put on last night. Oh, well. She was dressed, even though she’d slept in those clothes.
As she wandered into the large dining room, her mouth watered at the smell of the breakfast on the buffet. She grabbed a plate and started down the line. Behind her, several members of Black Swan team two chatted with Lei Lu and Tori. She noticed Daniel sat at the far end beside his sister with an empty seat between him and Santiago.
A crash near the small table where coffee and juice was dispensed grabbed Nita’s attention. The small boy, obviously only two or three, had dropped his juice. The glass shattered on the tile floor. Immediately, Nita set her almost full plate down and strode the five feet to the child.
“I thorry.” He panted as his whole body began to shake. “I thorry, Aunt Katlin.” He struggled but managed to pull off his T-shirt. Dropping to his knees, he used the cloth to wipe the floor of spilled juice.
Nita reached him first and placed a reassuring hand on his back. “It’s okay.” She hoped her voice was reassuring as she rubbed her hand up and down the child’s back. Her sensitive fingers glided over bumps rather than smooth skin. She immediately tore her gaze from the mess on the floor to stare at his back. Her mouth dropped as she surveyed the multiple scars of varying lengths. Some were white and well-healed while others look less than a week old.
Daniel kneeled in front of them with the cloth napkins from the table. “It’s okay, Simon.”
Katlin dropped to her knees next to her brother and started picking up glass shards.
“Who the fuck did this to him?” Nita seethed as she glared at Daniel.
Katlin gasped. She pulled the boy into her lap. “Who hurt you, sweetheart?”
The boy began to shake his head violently. “I bad. I thorry I pill juice. Won’t do it again. I thorry,” he gasped out between panicked pants.
She pulled her nephew to her chest and rocked him. “You are not a bad boy. Accidents happen.” She rubbed up and down his scarred back. “You are a good boy, and no one will ever hurt you again.”
Both women stared at Daniel.
Nita leaned forward until her face was inches from his. “Who the fuck tortured that little boy? Was it you?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Daniel looked past her to his son shaking in Katlin’s arms.
His sister glared at him. “How could you let anyone do this to him?”
“Do what?” Daniel actually had the gall to sound confused.
“Are you fucking blind?” Nita pointed at his son. “Look at that child’s back.”
Daniel leaned over and stared in shock. With shaking hands, he reached for his son. The boy immediately moved to his father, favoring his left arm. “Daddy. I thorry. I didn’t mean pill juith.”
“Son, I don’t care about the juice. I care about you.” Daniel carefully lifted the small face to his. “Who hurt you? Who did this to your back?”
Simon’s entire body shivered in reaction. “No. Can’t tell. I bad.”