November Foxtrot (Rhythm of the Heart Book 2) Read online

  November Foxtrot

  Rhythm of the Heart

  Book 2

  Scarlett Jade

  Zoe is left all alone in Colorado when Calvin returns to Afghanistan. And now, as the weeks pass, she has a secret...a secret that could crumble the precarious foundation of their relationship. As Christmas comes one shock after another leaves everything hanging in the balance... Life, death, and hope...Will they be able to ring in the New Year in happiness, or will the holidays be ruined?

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  © 2014 Scarlett Jade

  Published by Beau Coup Publishing

  http://beaucoupllc.com

  Cover by JRA Stevens

  For Beau Coup Publishing

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to Heather and Vickie for being great beta readers and helping me make this story the best it could be. Your enthusiasm to see Zoe and Calvin’s story continue fueled me. I love you both.

  Thank you to Jaisibel for being my very best friend and listening to me and being my favorite springboard.

  To all of my friends and family. I love you all. You are too numerous to list, but you are the stars in my sky. I appreciate each one of you. So very much, more than you’ll ever know. You helped me find myself, and in finding myself, Zoe found herself too. We faced our demons and we grew up.

  Love always - Scarlett

  Chapter One

  She checked her phone for the hundredth time in the last hour. It had been four weeks since she told him goodbye, and the days weren't getting any easier. Depression had hit hard, and she spent most of her days in bed. A flicker of sunlight crossed her face as the unevenly hung curtains shifted in the ceiling fan's whir.

  Tears filled her eyes and she rolled to her stomach, beating herself up as she sobbed over something as redundant as remembering their last day together, fighting over stupid curtains. If she could have turned back time, she would have stayed in bed, holding him in her arms and whispering about their future, but isn't hindsight always twenty-twenty?

  Lurching up quickly she ran for the bathroom, skidding to the toilet just in time to throw up. The last week had been nothing but throwing up constantly. It must be some kind of bug... I really need to make an appointment on base... Oh God, not again... She slumped down to the floor and curled her arms around the porcelain God, holding on for dear life until the heaving stopped.

  Her dark eyes closed and she took a slow breath, flushing the toilet so the smell of puke didn't cause the inevitable chain reaction of making her gag reflex kick in. Crawling forward, she grabbed the bathroom sink and pulled herself up to stand, wobbling like a newborn colt. Looking in the mirror, she grimaced, wrinkling her nose at her reflection. Her hair stood on end and her skin was greasy, she hadn't showered in a few days. Turning the water on, she splashed her heated skin with the cool water and rinsed her mouth out before brushing her teeth quickly and running a brush through her hair.

  Grabbing her phone and gliding her fingertip over the screen, she frowned again seeing there was nothing from Calvin, no e-mail, no call, nothing. It always felt the same, like the wind was suddenly snapped from her sails and her hopes dashed. Feeling her resolve crumbling, the tears started to fall. Her heart ached and she crumpled against the wall, sliding down to a crouch, sobbing until there was nothing left. She stretched out on the floor, the rough pile of the carpet soaking up her tears. Her fingertips played in the small square of sunlight peeking through her curtains, tracing his name over and over until even the concrete sub floor should have been imprinted with the letters of her love.

  The storm of her sorrow seemingly spent, she lay still, the desire to move long gone. Her eyes slid closed and she lay there, sprawled on the floor in a pool of briny tears, one hand gripping her phone for dear life. Call me, Calvin...

  * * *

  He rode through the desert in a Humvee, the relentless heat searing him through his layers of uniform. It had been five weeks since he’d told his beautiful wife goodbye. The second he'd stepped off the plane and into Hell, he had been thrown into various shooting ranges and field training exercises to get him ready for his platoon's clandestine mission in the mountains. If there had been any free time to even think about Zoe, it was quickly taken away from him by requests from his commanders and questions from his subordinates. It was killing him inside knowing that she wondered if he was okay and having no quick way to let her know.

  “Hey man, your head in the game?” Rodriguez, his battle buddy bumped him with his elbow, concern radiating out of his brown eyes.

  “Yeah, man, I'm good. Don't worry about me.” Calvin shook it off, knowing emotion could get you killed. Zoe would be okay, she was tough. He'd call her as soon as he could. She would just have to learn this was the way it was in the military.

  “I know you went back home for your leave, right? Something happen?”

  “No, really man, it's good. Just a little worried about my wife is all.” He shook his head. “She's fine, I'm fine.”

  “All right, man, but you know you gotta be on your toes out here. This ain't the place to fuck around.”

  “I haven't forgotten.”

  “Good, because it's time to roll.”

  Calvin noticed that the truck he was in began to slow down and came to a stop, creating a thick cloud of sand. With a nervous swallow, he jumped out of the back of the vehicle and put his gun to his shoulder, moving slowly through the sand, his eyes sweeping the landscape as his heart drummed. The biggest threat was an Improvised Explosive Device or IED, basically a half ass bomb that would blow you six ways from Sunday. The fear of coming home in pieces was always on the back of their mind. His eyes closed for a second, throwing a prayer out to anything that would listen, that he could make it back home to her.

  “Fuck,” he heard Rodriguez yell as a shot sounded, and he was jerked out of his momentary lapse in control.

  “Rodriguez! You okay?” His boots slid in the sand as he skidded down the hill to where his friend lay, gripping his thigh, blood pooling out of a wound. “Shit man!”

  “We gotta get to safety,” he ground out between clenched teeth, his tanned face paling.

  “Damn it, Rodriguez, don't you fucking die on me.” Calvin yelled as he took cover and searched through the sights of his weapon for anyone or anything. When the coast was clear, he returned his attention to Rodriguez, reached into the health kit he carried on his waist and pulled out gauze. “Here,” He handed the gauze to Rodriguez without looking at him. “Put pressure on that.”

  “I got this,” Rodriguez screamed. “You fucking worry about them!” Rodriguez pointed into the distance.

  “Can you stand up?” Calvin continued to keep his focus on the source of the shot. Rodriguez began to crawl back to the truck.

  “Hall, don't fucking worry about me. I will get there.”

  “Damn it, Rodriguez, stop being fucking stupid.” Calvin finally broke his focus when he assumed the coast was clear. He ran back to his friend
, grabbed the handle of his vest and dragged him back towards the truck they came from. Rodriguez used his free arm to keep his rifle aimed behind them.

  * * *

  The nausea was dragging on; it had been two weeks, non-stop. As she glanced at her phone again, begging him to call, her eyes focused on the date and she sat up in bed in a rush. The world started to spin and her throat closed, her breath coming forth in short puffs. She gripped at her shirt, pulling it away from her skin, hoping the tightening bands of panic would ease off, but they only cranked down tighter. She fell back onto her pillows, her dark eyes wild as she struggled to breathe.

  He was suddenly there, touching her face and whispering beautiful words to her. What they were, who knows, she would have run through Hell's flames if he asked. She closed her eyes, begging him to stay, knowing in a small part of her mind it wasn't real. But if this was the only way she could have him then she'd hold on.

  The vise grip on her chest released and she sucked in air, the hazy sweet words he whispered fading away as her oxygen-deprived brain came back to life. She cried out in pain as the delusion left her, wrapping herself around his pillow that she sprayed with his cologne every day to keep him near. “Stay with me, Calvin.”

  Her phone rang and she squealed, scrambling through her blankets to find it, a hollow feeling hitting her stomach as she realized it wasn't Calvin at all. Grams was calling, the third time today. She hadn't been answering because she couldn't bear to hear her voice, her honey rough tone telling her it would be okay and that she loved her. It was easier to stay in the darkness and suffer.

  She answered the phone, the rough voice coming out of her mouth surprising her. “Hello?” She croaked.

  “Zoe, baby, you all right?” The cocoon of her love cuddled her up and she soaked it in like a sponge, forgetting to answer for a moment. “Zoe?”

  “Yeah, Grams,” she croaked out pathetically.

  “Baby, you're scaring me. You okay?”

  Sitting up slowly, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “No, Grams, but I'll be okay. I've had a stomach bug for a couple of weeks...” Her voice trailed off as her stomach twisted. What if it's not a stomach bug?

  “Hmmm, a stomach bug, eh?” Grams was obviously tentatively putting together the same puzzle pieces as she was.

  “Don't say it, Grams. I can't handle it, not right now.” Tears filled her eyes again and she felt the bands tightening around her chest.

  “Say what, baby? You know, don't you?” Grams murmured softly.

  “I think so...”

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  “I don't know,” she answered honestly. “I need to know for sure.”

  “Mmhm, that you do, baby. I won't say nothin' until you say it's all right for me to. Have you heard anything from Calvin?” She heard the worry in Grams' voice and wanted to weep.

  “No. Nothing. It's been six and a half weeks, Grams... shouldn't we know something by now?” Her fingers picked at the comforter to placate and soothe her nerves.

  “Baby, I don't know. Maybe he's on another mission. No news is good news, we will look at it that way. I'm gonna go, I need to get some dinner on for Pops. We send our love, baby, and don't you sit there crying no more. You pick yourself up like I know you can. If you are... well. You know. Then you need to be eating right, and I know you ain't. How much weight you lost, Zoe Hall?”

  She shrugged, “Some, Grams.”

  “Then you get off your ass, stop feeling sorry for yourself and go to the grocery store. Get you some fruit and some ginger ale and...” her voice dropped and she whispered, “A test.”

  Zoe groaned. “I don't want to.”

  Grams sighed. “If only you were a little closer, I'd come tan your back end and get you straight. Get yourself up, you've felt sorry for yourself long enough.”

  “Okay. I'm going to.”

  “And I'll be calling tomorrow to make sure you did, so you better answer me, you hear me?” She could almost see Grams wiggling her finger at the phone and it made her crack a small smile.

  “Yeah, I hear you...” Her voice trailed off and she swallowed painfully. “I love y'all.”

  “Aww, honey, and we love you. You get too lonesome up there, you come home, you hear me?”

  “Yeah, I do.” Her mouth cracked into a grin again and she felt lighter. “Thank you.”

  “Ain't nothin' but a thing, baby. Now go on. I'll talk to you tomorrow.” The line went dead and she fought the urge to fall back between the covers and stay another day. She stood slowly, grabbing the nightstand for support until her legs got themselves together. She picked up her water glass and shuffled to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and the last cheese stick from the fridge. Basically for the last few weeks she'd been living on them and saltines. Hell of a diet, huh? Her palm skidded over her stomach and she took a slow breath, thinking of the possibility of a baby growing there. It didn't seem real yet.

  As she chewed through her cheese stick and sipped her water, she tried to think of happy things. Maybe she'd pick up a movie or something while she was out. Her Kindle had been her lifeline and she'd read lots of books in the last few weeks, but she was tired of reading. She refused to watch TV because then her fingers strayed on the remote to the news, and if she saw one more segment about a roadside bombing or some action in Afghanistan, she was going to lose it.

  Finally finished, she tossed the wrapper into the trashcan and walked back down the hall to her bedroom. Digging through her dresser, she found some comfortable old yoga pants to wear and one of Calvin's ARMY shirts, the comfortable grey cotton soothing against her skin. It smelled like him and she wrapped her arms around herself, squeezing his essence into her pores. Feeling the tears coming again, she pushed them down deep, knowing she had to get out of the house.

  Finding sneakers, she pulled them on and grabbed her purse and keys by the door. She debated on wearing a hoodie, but pulled one of Calvin's on anyway, snuggling into it as she stepped outside into the cool October afternoon. The drive was short to the grocery store and she was instantly transported to them shopping together, and her stomach clenched. With a slow pace, she crawled out of the car and walked into the store, her feet seeming to stick to the pavement.

  Grams had demanded fruit, she remembered with a smile, taking a cart out of the row and walking through the quiet aisles. She touched oranges and actually drooled. They sounded so good. Glancing through the selection she grabbed a bag of clementines and had to fight the urge to rip into them right there on the spot. More crackers, ginger ale, some chicken breasts, cereal, milk... Pregnancy test?

  Her throat threatened to close as she looked through the selection. Digital, not digital, early response, first morning pee, doesn't matter when, dip the stick, pee on the stick, drip in the reservoir. Leaving her cart in the middle of the aisle she bolted to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet in time before she threw up her cheese stick remnants from earlier. With a groan, she wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand. “Shit!” she squawked, realizing she'd left her purse in the aisle. Tears started falling as she sat in the middle of the dirty grocery store bathroom floor. She cried harder, missing her husband, missing her Daddy, missing people. Yet, here I sit, possibly pregnant. Guess I'm never gonna be alone again, huh? That thought made her cry harder.

  A knock came at the door with a soft, “Miss? You okay? I have your purse.”

  She sniffled as she rose to standing and walked to the door, opening it a crack. The small woman standing there smiled softly. “Here's your purse, honey. You okay?”

  Zoe took it from her and shook her head. “No, I'm not. I think I'm pregnant.” It was the first time she'd said it out loud and in a way, it made it real. She placed her hand on her stomach and her eyes went wide. “I think I'm pregnant,” she whispered again.

  The woman smiled softly. “Honey, it's all right if you are. I'll keep an eye on your cart, you get yourself together and then you can come get it, all
right? No rush.”

  Zoe nodded woodenly and closed the door, locking it again and leaning against the cold metal. “I think I'm pregnant,” she parroted out again, a smile breaking out across her face. “Oh my God. I might be a Momma.” She cradled her hands around her stomach and closed her eyes. Then panic kicked back in. What if Calvin isn't excited? I mean... I missed a couple of pills, I just didn't think about it. With moving and everything... Okay, I missed more than a couple, I guess. I missed a few all through August. So much going on... She sighed and turned to the sink to wash her hands.

  As she walked out of the bathroom, a small smile played at her mouth. The little lady, whose name was Doris according to her name tag, was behind the pharmacy counter, patiently watching her cart as she rang up customers. Zoe waved at her and smiled brightly as she took the cart and went back to the pregnancy tests. She grabbed three different tests and went to check out, grabbing a chocolate bar at the register. A young teenage boy was ringing her stuff up and he flushed as he came across the pregnancy tests. She didn't notice, so wrapped up in her cocoon of maybes.

  After paying, she walked back to the car and loaded her few bags, grabbing a clementine and peeling it, almost choking on the sweet flesh as the juice flowed through her mouth. She found herself groaning at the taste and devouring the whole thing in mere minutes. It was the best damn thing she'd put in her mouth recently and she fought the urge to eat another one as she drove home, carefully keeping the little car under the speed limit.

  Once home, she parked in the quiet parking lot and grabbed her bags, carefully balancing them as she walked down the hall to their door. She unlocked the door and hauled everything inside, sitting down at the kitchen table with a few shaky breaths. Bending and digging through the bags until she found another clementine, she sat back again and peeled it quickly before devouring the fruit. Juice dripped off her chin and she laughed shakily. “What the hell is with these oranges?” As she stood to wash her hands, her foot caught in the loop of the plastic grocery bag and one of the pregnancy tests fell out. She untangled her foot and glanced down at the little white box as though it was a huge snake waiting to strike.