The SEAL's Christmas Twins

His Toughest Mission Yet

Navy SEAL Mason Brown left Conifer, Alaska, and his broken marriage behind long ago. Until one call changed everything. His ex-wife has died in a tragic accident, and given custody of her twin baby girls to Mason and her sister Hattie.

Hattie Beaumont always dreamed of having a family—and Mason—but never like this. Now those old longings seem like betrayal, especially since playing house with Mason comes naturally. She can tell he feels it, too, so why is he determined to leave?

Mason knows Hattie and the girls are the greatest Christmas gift he’ll ever get. But even though he’s risked his life countless times, risking his heart again feels so much more dangerous.

Mason found a fresh diaper and tried grabbing the baby’s ankles to raise her behind, but she kicked so hard it was tough to get a hold.

Settling for one ankle, he tried lifting her sideways, then sneaking the diaper under.

“Not like that,” Hattie complained. Nudging Mason aside, she caught the baby’s ankles one-handed on her first try.

“As much as it pains me to admit this,” Mason said with a round of applause, “you’re good.”

“I’ve had at least a little practice. You’ll get the hang of it.” She took the diaper from him and, once she had it properly positioned, stepped aside for him to finish. “She’s all yours.”

When Mason stepped back, their arms brushed. The resulting hum of awareness caught him as off guard as practically flunking his first diapering lesson.

He and Hattie had never been more than friends, so what was that about? Had she felt it, too? If so, she showed no signs, which told him to just chalk it up to his imagination and get this job done.

Dear Reader,

At this point in my career, I don’t often have the opportunity to inject much of my own life into my stories, but something in Hattie, this story’s heroine, struck a chord in me I couldn’t ignore. All my life, I’ve been what I now dub a professional dieter. I’ve tried every fad diet and weight loss system, from Weight Watchers to Nutrisystem to Jenny Craig. They all work for a week or two, but then old habits creep in, and I’m soon back to the weight where I started.

Hattie, too, has struggled her whole life with weight issues, so much so that when her dream guy puts the moves on her, she doesn’t believe he could honestly fall for a girl like her—a “fat” girl. Well, navy SEAL Mason Brown isn’t an ordinary guy, and he sure isn’t so petty as to allow a few extra pounds keep him from admiring all the amazing qualities Hattie has to share.

Hattie helped me conquer a few of my own inner demons. And, while I’ll never stop striving to fit into my size-ten college jeans, I now realize there’s way more to life than dieting—like truly living and loving my wonderful friends and family!

I so hope you enjoy Hattie and Mason’s story of second chances and new beginnings, and remember it’s never too late to start a new beginning all your own!

Happy reading!

Laura Marie Altom

The SEAL’s Christmas Twins

Laura Marie Altom

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

After college (Go, Hogs!), bestselling, award-winning author Laura Marie Altom did a brief stint as an interior designer before becoming a stay-at-home mom to boy-girl twins and a bonus son. Always an avid romance reader, she knew it was time to try her hand at writing when she found herself replotting the afternoon soaps.

When not immersed in her next story, Laura teaches art at a local middle school. In her free time, she beats her kids at video games, tackles Mount Laundry and, of course, reads romance!

Laura loves hearing from readers at either P.O. Box 2074, Tulsa, OK 74101, or by email, balipalm@aol.com.

Love winning fun stuff? Check out www.lauramariealtom.com.

This story is dedicated to my fellow “professional dieters.” May someday soon scientists develop fat-free cheesecake that actually tastes of creamy, gooey goodness as opposed to cardboard!

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Epilogue

Excerpt

Chapter One

“Wait—she’s dead?” Navy SEAL Mason Brown covered his right ear so he could hear the caller. His team was at Virginia Beach’s joint base, Fort Story, immersed in close quarters combat training. If his CO caught him on his cell, there’d be hell to pay. Just in case, he locked himself in a bathroom and crossed his fingers to not lose his already-shoddy signal. “Come again. I’m sure I didn’t fully hear you.”

“M-Mason, I’m sorry, but you heard me right. Melissa and Alec died. Their plane went down, and...” Hattie’s voice was drowned out by the sort of electric, adrenaline-charged hum he usually only experienced at the height of combat. No way was this real. There had to be a mistake, because even though his ex-wife had betrayed him in the worst possible way, even though there’d been thousands of miles between them, he couldn’t imagine life without her at least sharing the planet. “I’m sorry to break this to you over the phone, but with you so far away...”

“I get it.” What he didn’t get was his reaction. Melissa had cheated on him with his old pal Alec six years ago. So why had his limbs gone numb to the point he leaned against the closed bathroom door, sliding down, down until his carefully constructed emotional walls shattered, leaving him feeling raw and exposed and maybe even a little afraid.

“Mason, I know this is probably the last thing you want to hear at a time like this, but Melissa and Alec’s lawyer needs to see you. He says you’re in the will, and—”

“Why would I be in the will?” He clamped his hand to his forehead.

“I don’t know. He wanted to call you, but I asked him to let me. I didn’t want this kind of news coming from a stranger.”

Isn’t that essentially what we are? Though he and Hattie used to be tight, once he and Melissa split, Melissa had taken custody of the rest of her family, as well. In Divorce Land, wasn’t that the natural order?

“Mason? Will you come?”

He groaned.

Just beyond the bathroom’s far wall, gunfire popped like firecrackers. That was his world. Had been for a nice, long while and he felt comfortable here in Virginia. Back in his hometown of Conifer, Alaska, he was a pariah—which still burned his hide, considering he’d been the wounded party.

“Mason? I don’t know why, but Melissa’s lawyer’s adamant you be present at the reading of her will.”

Pop, pop, pop. Considering the fire knotting in his stomach, those shots might as well have been to his gut. “Yeah,” he finally muttered. “I’ll be there.”

* * *

THURSDAY NIGHT, Hattie Beaumont volunteered for pickup duty. Her mother was too grief-stricken to leave her bed after having just lost her eldest daughter to a plane crash. Her dad wasn’t faring much better. Glad to be inside and out of the blustery October wind, Hattie lugged her sister’s five-month-old twins to the nearest row of chairs in Conifer’s airport terminal—newly constructed after the old one collapsed following a heavy snowfall.

River-stone columns now supported the vaulted ceiling of the otherwise modest space that housed three regional airlines, two charter air companies, one rental-car agency, a coffee bar, sundries shop and diner.

At nine, everything was closed. Only three other parties waited for the night’s last incoming flight from Anchorage.

The infants, finally sleeping in their carriers, had been heavy, but not near as heavy as the pain squeezing Hattie’s heart.

Her sister Melissa’s husband’s twin-engine Cessna had gone down in bad weather on Tuesday. Alec died upon impact, but Melissa lived long enough for a search-and-rescue team to get her to an Anchorage hospital, where she’d passed Wednesday morning.

The realization that her sister was well and truly gone hadn’t quite sunk in. It felt more like a nightmare from which she couldn’t wake.

Alec’s parents, Taylor and Cindy, understandably hadn’t taken the news well. They’d retired in Miami, and it was their flight she was meeting. They planned to be in town until Saturday’s double funeral. After that, Hattie wasn’t sure of their plans—or anyone’s plans for that matter. Would her parents and Alec’s share custody of the twins?

Covering her face with her hands, Hattie fought a fresh wave of the nausea that she hadn’t been able to shake since she’d first heard the news of Melissa’s accident. Granted, people of all ages died all the time. Funerals were a sad fact of life, but having a close family member die didn’t seem possible.

Then there was Mason...

Yeah. She’d table thoughts of him for another time. Too much history. Way too much pain on top of an already-crushing amount of grief.

Steeling herself for her eventual reunion with him at her sister’s funeral, then again at Sunday’s reading of the will, Hattie was thankful that she wouldn’t have to see him until then. Despite the fact that she’d had years apart from him to think of what she might say should she ever see him again, she still couldn’t quite string together the words.

How was she supposed to act around the one guy she’d secretly adored? The guy who hadn’t just gotten away, but had married and divorced her sister?

Minutes elongated into what felt like hours.

She tried playing a game on her phone but, after losing a dozen times, gave up.

Finally, the drone of the twin-engine Piper Chieftain taxiing to the passenger offloading area signaled the near-end of her grueling night. She doubted she’d even be able to sleep, but if she did, the break from reality would be most welcome.

She rose to wait for Alec’s parents. Since the twins were still sleeping, she left them in the seating area that was only thirty feet from the incoming passengers’ door.

“Hattie?”

She glanced to her left only to get a shock. Mason’s dad, Jerry Brown, stood alongside her, holding out his arms for a hug. “Girl, it’s been ages since I last saw you—though I hear you and Fern visit all the time.”

“True. I can’t get enough of her shortbread cookies.” Fern was Jerry’s neighbor. She was getting on in years, and Hattie enjoyed chatting with her. What she didn’t enjoy was passing Mason’s old house. The mere sight reminded her of happier times, which was why she hustled by, carefully avoiding a possible meeting with Jerry. The last thing she wanted was to hear about his son. For hearing about Mason would only serve as a reminder of how much he was missed.

He laughed. “That makes two of us.” His smile faded. “Addressing the elephant in the room, how’re you and your folks coping? Both your sister and Alec gone...” He shook his head. “One helluva blow.”

“Yeah.” She swallowed back tears. “I’m here to pick up Alec’s parents.”

“I’m grabbing Mason. It’ll be damn good to see him, though I wish our visit was under happier circumstances.”

Mason will be here? Now? As in the next thirty seconds?

Considering her sister had just died, fashion hadn’t topped her priorities. Hattie wore jeans, a faded Green Bay Packers sweatshirt a patron had left at her bar, and she’d crammed her hair into a messy bun—as for makeup, it hadn’t even occurred to her. Jeez, what is wrong with you? Why are you worried about how you look?

She shook her head, suddenly feeling jittery.

Sure, she’d known Mason would be coming for the funeral, but she’d assumed they wouldn’t run into each other until Saturday. This was too soon. What would she say or do?

Whereas moments earlier grief had slowed her pulse, panic now caused it to race. She couldn’t see him. Not yet.

And then an airline representative stole all options for possible escape by opening the doors. In strode Mason. Out went her last shred of confidence.

She took a few steps back into a shadow. With luck, Mason wouldn’t even see her.

The plan proved simple, yet effective, as Mason and his dad were soon caught up in their reunion.

Two strangers entered the terminal, and then Alec’s parents. What were their thoughts about Mason having been on their flight? Or were they so absorbed in their grief, they hadn’t noticed?

“Cindy? Taylor?” Hattie waved them over. “Hi. How was your flight?”

Cindy’s eyes appeared red and sunken, her expression hollow. Taylor didn’t look much better.

“It was fine,” Taylor said, “but we’re ready to call it a day.”

“I understand. Should I get a cart for your luggage?”

He shook his head. “We don’t have much.”

“Okay, well...I’ll grab the twins, and we’ll be on our way.” Awkward didn’t begin to describe the moment, especially when she accidentally glanced in Mason’s direction, but he turned away. Purposely? She hoped not.

* * *

SUNDAY AFTERNOON MASON shoveled for all he was worth, but still couldn’t keep up with the mid-October snow. Located on the eastern shore of Prince William Sound, Conifer was known for impressive snowfalls. As an oblivious kid, he’d spent hours happily building forts and snowmen and, if he’d been really ambitious, even tunnels. Now he needed to dig out his dad’s old truck, carefully avoiding the passenger-side door, which was barely attached to the vehicle after it had been rammed by an angry plow driver some ten years earlier.

His dad’s trailer was dwarfed by towering Sitka spruce. Mason used to like playing hide-and-seek in them. Now, having grown used to the open sea, the dark forest made him feel trapped.

It had been six long years since he’d been home.

Best as he could remember, he’d once enjoyed the whisper of wind through the boughs. Today, the world had fallen silent beneath the deepening blanket of snow. If pressed, he’d have to admit the evergreen and ice-laced air smelled damned good. Fresh and clean—the way his life used to be.

“This is the last place I expected to see you.”

“Same could be said of you.” Mason glanced toward the familiar voice to find little Hattie Beaumont all grown up. He’d seen her in the airport when he’d come in, but with Alec’s parents having been there, the timing was all wrong for any kind of meaningful conversation. That morning, at the funeral, hadn’t been much better. “Not a great day for an afternoon stroll.”

“I like it.” At the funeral, he’d been so preoccupied, he hadn’t fully absorbed the fact that the former tomboy had matured into a full-on looker. She was part Inuit, and the snow falling on her long dark hair struck him as beautiful. Her brown eyes lacked her usual mischievous sparkle, but then, given the circumstances, he supposed that was to be expected. “Feels good getting out of the house.”

“Agreed.” He rested his gloved hands on the shovel’s handle. “Snow expected to stop anytime soon?”

“Mom says we could see ten inches by morning.”

“Swell.” Around here, pilots flew through just about anything Mother Nature blew their way, but a major storm could put a kink in his plans to fly out first thing in the morning.

“We still on for this afternoon?”

He nodded. “Two, right?”

“Yes. Benton’s opening his office just for us, so don’t be late.”

He couldn’t help but grin. “Little Hattie Beaumont, who never once made it to school on time, is lecturing me on punctuality? And how many nights did your mother send me out to find you for dinner?”

Eyes shining, she looked away from him, then smiled. “Good times, huh?”

“The best.” Back then, he’d had it all figured out. Perfect woman, job—even had his eye on a fixer-upper at the lonely end of Juniper Lane. Considering how tragic his parents’ marriage had ultimately been, he should’ve known better than to believe his life would turn out any different.

Joining the navy had been the best thing he’d ever done.

“Well...” She gestured to the house next door. “I wanted to thank Fern for the pies and ham she brought to the wake. Might as well check her firewood while I’m there.”

“Want me to tag along?” He’d forgotten the spirit of community up here. The way everyone watched out for everyone else. He’d lived in his Virginia Beach apartment for just over five years, but still didn’t have a clue about any of his neighbors.

“Thanks, but I can handle it.” Her forced smile brought on a protective streak in him for the girl who’d grown into a woman.

“I’m not saying you can’t. Just offering to lend a hand. Besides...” Half smiling, he shook his head. “I haven’t seen Fern since she ratted me out for driving my snowmobile across her deck.”

“She still hasn’t built railings. I’m surprised nobody’s tried it since.”

“What can I say? I’m an original.”

“More like a delinquent.” She waved goodbye and walked down the street, then shouted, “Don’t be late!”

“I won’t.”

“Oh—and, Mason?” He’d resumed shoveling, but looked up to find her biting her lower lip.

“Yeah?”

She looked down. “Thanks for coming. I really appreciate it.”

“Sure. No problem,” he lied. Actually, returning to Conifer had brought on an unfathomable amount of pain. Remembering Hattie’s big sister, Melissa—the love of his life—was never easy. Not only had she broken his heart, but spirit. She’d taught him trust should’ve been a four-letter word. He hated her on a scale he’d thought himself incapable of reaching.

Now that she was dead?

All that hate mixed with guilt culminated in killer heartburn and an insatiable need to escape.

Chapter Two

Hattie had believed her childhood crush on Mason long over. Then he’d gone and flashed his crooked smile, opening the gate for her flood of feelings for him to come rushing back.

Along with her parents—the twins were being watched by their neighbor Sophie—Hattie now sat outside the office of family friend, and the only lawyer in town, Benton Seagrave, waiting for Mason to arrive. The metal folding chair serving as his trailer’s bare-bones reception area made her squirmy. The scent of burnt coffee churned her stomach.

As with many folks in Alaska, Benton had a personal drive outside of his profession. He practiced law from October through May—and then, begrudgingly. His summers were spent on his gold claim in the Tolovana-Livengood region. The only reason he’d agreed to see the family today was because Mason and Alec’s folks flew out in the morning.

Holding her hands clasped on her knees, Hattie closed her eyes, contrasting her remembered images of Mason with ones recently gained.

He’d always been taller than her, but now she felt positively petite standing beside him—not an easy feat for a woman a few local teens still called Fattie Hattie. Not only had he grown in height, but stature. He’d shoveled in his Sorel boots, jeans and a brown long-johns top that had clung to broadened shoulders and pecs. When he’d shoveled, his biceps could’ve earned their own zip code. Sure, in the bar she owned plenty of fit men came and went, but none caused her stomach to somersault with just a flash of a crooked smile. Mason’s blue eyes had darkened and lines now creased the corners. His perpetually mussed dark hair shone with golden highlights. She was two years younger than him, and while the few other kids they’d gone to school with mercilessly teased her about her weight, he’d actually talked to her, sharing her love of astronomy and fishing and most of all...her sister.

On Mason and Melissa’s wedding day, Hattie had tried being happy, but in actuality, she’d suffered through, forcing her smile and well-wishes, secretly resenting her sister for not only her too-tight maid-of-honor dress selection, but for marrying the only man Hattie had ever loved.

Of course in retrospect, Hattie knew she hadn’t loved Mason, but crushed on him. Daydreamed of him holding her, kissing her, declaring it had never been Melissa he’d wanted, but her. Now that Melissa was dead, the mere thought of those traitorous longings made her feel dirty and disrespectful.

Melissa was—had been—the bronzed beauty every guy wanted. For as long as she could remember, Hattie battled jealousy and resentment she’d never wanted, but seemed to have always carried. When Melissa destroyed Mason by cheating on him, well, Hattie had secretly sided with him in believing her own sister heartless and cruel. Years later, when Melissa struggled to conceive, Hattie’s guilt doubled for believing her sister’s infertility was karma paying a call.

Now that Melissa was dead, self-loathing consumed Hattie for not only all of that, but not being able to cry. Since the accident, she’d been the strong one, shielding her parents from the painful process of burying their perfect child, their pretty child, the one their Inuit mother had called piujuq—beautiful.

From outside came the clang of someone mounting the trailer’s metal steps. Seconds later, the door was tugged open. Mason ducked as he entered, brushing snow from his dark hair. He still wore his jeans and boots, but had added an ivory cable-knit sweater that made his blue eyes all the more striking. For a moment, Hattie fell speechless. Then she remembered she wasn’t seeing Mason for a happy reunion, but the reading of her sister’s will.

Her parents, still holding tight to their resentment over the divorce—and especially his attendance at an intimate family moment such as the reading of Melissa’s will—barely acknowledged his presence.

“Am I late?” He checked his black Luminox watch, the kind she’d seen on divers around town. Certain times of year, Conifer was a bustling port.

“W-we’re early.” She struggled knowing what to do with her hands. “Alec’s parents should be here soon, so Benton said to let him know when we’re all ready.”

“Sure.” Mason shoved his hands in his pockets.

And then they waited.

No one said a word. Aside from wind gusts and papery whispers of Reader’s Digest pages being turned, all in the cramped space had fallen silent. Thank goodness Hattie’s racing thoughts and pulse had no volume or everyone would know the extent of her panic. For years, she’d dreamed of a reunion with Mason, but never under these circumstances.

Twenty minutes passed with still no sign of Alec’s parents.

A muffled landline rang in Benton’s office, then came a brief, equally muffled conversation.

“Look,” Mason said, “if you all don’t mind, I’d just as soon get started. I can’t imagine what Melissa would’ve left me. The whole thing’s bizarre.”

“Agreed,” Hattie’s father said, also rising, offering his hand to his wife. Akna and Lyle led the way down the short hall leading to Benton’s office.

Before Lyle had reached the door, Benton opened it. “Good, you’re all here.” He waved Akna and Lyle into the room. “That was Taylor and Cindy on the phone. They’re not going to make it.”

“Everything all right?” Lyle asked.

“As well as can be expected.”

While her parents and Benton made polite conversation, Hattie hung back with Mason. He made the formerly smallish space feel cramped. She needed to get away from him. And take time to process what losing her sister really meant.

“Ladies first.” He gestured for her to lead the way, which was the last thing she wanted. She felt most comfortable in jeans and a roomy sweatshirt. Her black slacks and plum sweater clung in all the wrong places and she’d never wished more for a ponytail holder to hold her long hair from her face.