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Freeing Ellie (The Redeemed Side of Broken Series) (Volume 2)

By Joan Deneve

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Chapter 1

The third victim in as many weeks. Ellie Templeton worked quietly beside her dad, keeping pace with his swift, precise movements. Sweat darkening his green surgical cap, Brock Whitfield leaned in, not a man to give up without a fight. The Angolan national lay unconscious on the gurney with lacerations so deep, parts of the abdominal cavity gaped open and exposed.
In the two years she’d worked at the mission hospital with her dad, Ellie had seen worse. Worked on worse. But today, the smell of sweat and warm blood got to her. She whirled from the table. Dad would have to handle the rest. She stripped off the bloody gloves and mask and flung them on the concrete floor before blasting through the screen doors. Hot liquid gurgled from deep inside and spewed with projectile force, spraying the bushes beside the steps. Her rubbery knees almost buckled.
Strong arms caught her from behind. “I’ve got you, baby.”
She sagged against her husband, limp as a ragdoll but too grateful to be embarrassed. The nausea ended almost as suddenly as it had come. She straightened and wiped her mouth. “I hoped no one would see me… Especially not you.”
Eric grinned and loosened the hair plastered to her face. He put his arm around her and sat on the first step, pulling her onto his lap.
Ellie relaxed against him, loving his strength. He shifted slightly, and she squirmed to lighten her weight. “I’m hurting you.”
“No. You’re not.” His voice was soft but determined.
She let her full weight rest again on him, now more concerned with protecting his ego than the leg connected to his prosthesis.
“Tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m not sure.” She had suspicions but no positive proof yet. “It was so hot in that curtained off cubicle. Usually blood doesn’t faze me.” She raised her head and met his eyes, hoping to deflect his attention. “Good thing I didn’t react that way when Toby flew you here last April.” An involuntary shudder shook her. She would never forget that first glimpse of Eric, covered in his own blood and still bleeding out faster than they could pump more back into him.
He kissed the top of her head, then tightened his grip as he leaned over to retrieve the packages scattered on the steps. “I tossed these when I saw you were going down. I hope nothing broke.”
“Is that the order from Luanda?” She reached for the box by his foot.
He nodded and scanned her face. “Sure you’re okay?”
“I’m sure. The heat got to me. That’s all.” She grinned.
The dimple must have worked its magic because his brown eyes softened, wielding an enchantment of their own. “How’s Yafatu?”
"Lucky to be alive." She leaned on his shoulder, resting her hand against his chest. “Two tribes with territorial issues.”
The thud of his heart quickened beneath her fingertips, and his muscles stiffened like a predator getting ready to spring. “Someone needs to step in and avert a full-scale confrontation.”
This time she tensed. “Not you.”
The door behind them swung open. In one fluid move, Eric swooped them both to a standing position.
Dad grabbed Eric’s arm as if to steady him. “I’m sorry. I meant to check on Ellie, not knock you off the steps.” He let the door close and turned back to her. “Good to see some color back in your cheeks. How are you feeling, honey?”
“Fine now. Sorry I bailed. I’ll go back in and help clean up.”
Dad shook his head. “Miriam’s there already. You’re off-duty. Go back home until the afternoon rush.”
“I was thinking maybe the dining hall. I’m starving.”
Eric lowered his chin and gave her a disbelieving look. “Starving?”
“Uh-huh.” Ellie picked up the last box from the steps and handed it to Eric.
One side of his mouth curled into a quirky grin. He took the remaining boxes from her and stacked them all in his arms. “Dining hall it is.”
Ceiling fans placed at strategic intervals in the hallway created a cooling vortex, and Ellie lifted her head to enjoy the rush of air.
She paused outside the dining hall doorway and took the smaller package from the top of the stack Eric carried, hoping he wouldn’t ask why. “Get some coffee. I’ll duck into my room and wash up a little.”
Her old bedroom, just a few feet down the hall on the left, still held a bed and a closet full of scrubs for a quick change if necessary. She entered the bathroom, and her hands shook as she ripped open the package. A blood test would’ve worked, but she had a crazy sentimental need to experience it again like she had the first time. Regret seared through her as it always did whenever she let herself remember that dark time in her life. What a fool she’d been.
She removed the meter and followed the directions to the letter. The waiting interval seemed to take forever. She stared, holding her breath and willing the plus sign to magically appear.
Finally, the prize she’d been longing for. The most beautiful plus sign she’d ever seen, blurred immediately by tears. One hand flew to her mouth, and the other one, still clutching the meter, slid down and caressed her belly.
Her breaths came in heaving hiccups as she gave vent to the years of grief and loss. “Thank you, God. Thank you so much.”
***
In the dining hall, Eric waited as long as he could and then went looking for Ellie. With a soft knock, he pushed open the door. Her wracking sobs hit him in the gut as he eased toward the bathroom. He lingered outside the closed door. Should he knock? Call her name? Right now, he could use a manual for new husbands. His hands curled into a fist to keep from opening the door. He didn’t want to ruin her surprise even though he’d suspected for a few days.
Why was she crying? Maybe she wasn’t pregnant after all. But all the signs were there. At least, all the ones he’d read about. Even the not-so physical signs like when he’d caught her looking sideways in the mirror with her hand on her stomach.
What went wrong? And how could he fix it if she didn’t want to tell him?
Years of specialized CIA training, yet he had no clue how to take care of this complex woman who was now his wife. Eric stood rooted to the spot. Maybe he could text Rocco for a little advice. He pulled out his phone but stopped. Ten in the morning here would be four a.m. in Minnesota.
Jesus, help me out here.
Water splashed into the sink. He dashed back to the now empty dining hall with just enough time to grab the creamer and sit.
Despite her puffy eyes and red nose, Ellie seemed happy when she came into the room. She positioned herself at the end of the table beside his chair, her hands clasped. “Guess what today is.”
“Hmm.” He took a wild stab. “Our two-month anniversary?”
Her entire face lit up. “You remembered!”
More like lucked out. Apparently, month anniversaries carried some weight. He hit save on the new piece of information and scooted his chair back. “Come here, pixie.”
She moved closer but hesitated, giving him a worried look.
“Sit. My leg can handle it. You hardly weigh anything.”
She eased onto his lap and slid her hands around his neck. “That’s about to change real soon.”
Which could only mean one thing. He shifted to get a good look at her face.
She nodded, her eyes wide and glistening with a new batch of tears that made them seem even bluer than usual. Eric swallowed hard as Ellie burrowed her face in the crook of his neck.
So why the meltdown only minutes before?
No matter. He quit analyzing it. He was holding his world on his lap, and she was carrying his child. Their child. A fierce protectiveness swept over him, and he tightened his hold. Could he keep them both safe in this vast and savage land?

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