At least Friday was over. He would toss together a Crock-Pot of chili for the weekend.
Spend some time with his kids, then his bike. Julia didn't want his help, and he sure as hell didn't have the extra time.
That didn't mean he could stop himself from giving it now any more than he'd been able to the past eight months.
Zach stared through the kitchen window at his Harley and knew it wouldn't be getting the tune-up after all. No way could he let Julia bring her son home to an empty house.
Chapter 3
Julia glanced in her car visor mirror for the fiftieth time to check Patrick in back. Not that she could actually see him in his rear-facing infant seat. But every now and again, a spindly arm or leg flailed reassurance.>Kathleen grasped Julia's wrist to check her pulse. The doctor frowned. "A bit fast. What did Colonel Dawson do?"
Julia tucked her hand under her hip to hide the racing pulse that betrayed her. "Excuse me?"
"What did he do when you finally told him? I assume that's why your pulse is elevated."
"Oh, uh, he insisted I should have said something sooner. You were right. He didn't like being left out of the loop. He was..."
"Pissed?"
"Not exactly. He doesn't get mad. Ever. But man, was his jaw tight. He doesn't seem to understand he's not responsible for Patrick and me." She forced herself to say, "It's not like I'm a military wife anymore."
"Stop right there." Kathleen straightened, her eyes sparking with her legendary redhead's temper. "Regulations state you're an Air Force dependant until you remarry. Even after that, you're still one of us for life."
Their husbands had been more than just part of the same squadron. They had often crewed together until a couple of months before Lance's plane had crashed. While Julia grieved over the other crew members who had died as well, she thanked God none of them had had wives and children. Especially not a pregnant wife.
"It's just.... Sometimes I feel as though if I see another flight suit, I'm going to scream."
Julia pulled her hand from under her hip and held it up to stop Kathleen from interrupting. "I know! Cutting off the Air Force isn't going to help me get over losing Lance, but I need a break from it all."
The temper doused from Kathleen's eyes. "Do you want me to leave?"
"No! No." Julia waved for her to stay seated. "I must sound like an ungrateful brat."
"Not at all. Just a woman who's been through a hell of a year." Kathleen rubbed a hand over her stomach absently, all five months of pregnancy very apparent on her petite frame. "How do you feel? Honestly."
"Like my br**sts are going to explode if this kid doesn't eat soon. And if he doesn't feed within a couple of hours, they're going to give him another tube feeding."
She'd read all the literature on breastfeeding a baby with Down syndrome, how his larger tongue in relation to mouth size, weaker sucking reflex and muscle tone could make breastfeeding a challenge. But somehow, she'd hoped that wouldn't apply to her.
Kathleen pushed to her feet. "That, I can take care of. I'll hustle up some help at the nurses' station, and I won't leave until we have this fella settled."
An inelegant snort of laughter tripped free, and Julia hugged her stubborn little non-nurser closer. "How late did you say Tanner would be out?'
"He's not scheduled to land until one, but don't worry. I bet I beat him home." Kathleen tugged open the door. "I'll be right back with the cavalry."
"Thanks," Julia called to the closing door.
She relaxed into her pillows. How many nights had she waited up for Lance? How many nights had she spent worrying? Somalia. Afghanistan. And then Sentavo. She'd rejoiced when his short leave time from the conflict had lengthened into a surprise rotation out of combat. How ironic. All those months with the war, she'd waited and feared, only to lose him in a routine peacetime mission.
Anything. Anywhere. Anytime. Like the motto of his C-17 squadron, her husband had promised he would always be there for her.
Julia thought of Zach Dawson's demand that she call him if she needed anything. A tempting offer from an intriguing man, no doubt.
But she'd learned the hard way it was safer not to depend on anyone for anything ever again.
* * *
Zach pulled into the driveway of his brick base house. Two in the morning. The longest Friday had slipped into Saturday.