Page 87 of Ace
Dodging more covert waves and whispered hellos from old friends as they made their way forward, Keller and Savannah joined his team on the front row.
The service was fairly quick and informal. After a few introductions, Father McCallion urged the godparents to come forward. The entire Deuces Wild team stood, Keller included. That was Roxy’s idea. Once she’d invited Tucker, she’d decided Little Chase might as well have his daddy’s entire family at his back.
After the Deuces Wild team made their way to the white marble font, the priest bowed his head and offered a couple prayers. For a few minutes he expounded on faith and charity, on supporting the church, and on being a good Christian. At last he lifted a small silver bowl from the edge of the font, dipped it into the water, and with Isaiah holding his sleeping son over the font, Father declared, “I baptize you, Tucker Chase Zaroyin in the name of the Father—” He poured the first of what would be three streams over the crest of Chase’s forehead. “—and the Son—” Another stream anointed the now fussing baby. “—and the Holy Spirit.” The last of the water spilled out, and newly baptized Tucker Chase Zaroyin bellowed for his mommy.
Roxy leaned in to wipe his head while Isaiah lifted the infant to his shoulder and soothed him. Keller couldn’t help but swipe the moisture gathered in the corner of his eyes. He’d never been baptized, didn’t want to be now. What he wanted was the sensational feelings coalesced inside this church today. This was family. Pure and simple. There was no pain. No agony. Only reverence and a tapestry of red, white, and blue devotion binding them to each other and to God.
The empathy binding them together was—wow. Unbelievable. Keller had experienced teamcohesiveness in his life before. That was what the Army did to recruits. They tore young men and women apart, then built them back up and turned them into disciplined, honorable fighting machines. But nothing the Army ever did was as powerful as what was happening between these men and women, these families gathered here today. For one little baby. They’d each made time in their busy lives to stand by a child. By the world’s standards, this was a non-event. It’d never make the tabloids, certainly not the propaganda laced diatribes that modern media called news. But it hit Keller hard. He needed to sit down before he fell down.
“I’ve got you, Secret Agent Man,” Savannah whispered as her arm circled his waist.
Damned if Tucker didn’t clap a big hand to Keller’s shoulder with a hoarse, “On your six, Kell.”
Shit. Yeah. Now for sure Keller needed to get out of there. His heart was so full it hurt.
Until sweet, understanding Savannah broke the spell. Lifting her hands over her head, she clapped and surprised the hell out of him when she broke into a gospel spiritual he loved,“Oh, Happy Day!”by Philip Doddridge.
“Come on folks, you all know the chorus,” she encouraged, dancing now and turning this quiet little Catholic service into something bigger and bolder. Wilder. “Put your hands in the air. Praise God. There you go. That’s it, sisters!”
Savannah’s eyes lit when her grinning choir chimed in with gusto. She’d sing a line. They’d answer as ifthey’d practiced. All the children danced along with her. Even Father McCallion gave it a spin. The music swelled and took on a life of its own as if angels had joined the party.
Isaiah and Roxy had Baby Chase sandwiched between them while they sang together. Yet Keller couldn’t take his eyes off Savannah. She’d brought this quaint Catholic ritual to life, infused it with her brand of joy and enthusiasm, exactly what she’d done with him.
She caught him watching. Dancing her way through the singing joyful crowd to Keller, she got sidetracked by Maverick who grabbed her waist and belted out,“He taught me how…”
Savannah danced along, shimmying to his shimmy and answering in her lovely soprano. When Maverick dipped his head to her and bellowed the next line, she nodded back and sang along. But day-um… Keller’s throat went bone dry. Everywhere Savannah went people fell in love with her. Even Maverick. Those two looked good together, him with his tall, lean physique, dressed in western wear like he was. She in her simple white, sleeveless dress. The bastard was definitely enjoying himself. Too much. This shit had to stop.
Especially when the man others called Cowboy spun Savannah in a full circle, then busted out with some pretty good moves of his own. Uh uh, not happening. Keller cut in. By then Savannah was sweating and Maverick was grinning.
Okay, enough. Keller cut in, grabbing his woman’s hand. Without hesitation, Maverick bowed at the waistand turned her loose. Finally pressed against his chest where she belonged, Savannah’s eyes glowed. That was her gift and Keller’s eternal consternation. His woman simply burned with a love so rich, it splashed over everyone around her, dogs, cats, birds, and people alike. Even him.
There was no reason to be angry at Maverick. He was just another guy caught up in her orbit. Keller understood. He’d been the same when Carol Marie had taught him to dance. Yet instinctively, his eyes roamed the crowd, checking for the guy who’d dared fall in love with his wife. But Maverick was over by the baptismal font now, mooning over China and swaying to the emotion of the day. Okay then.
Possessively, Keller pulled Savannah in closer. There was no way to explain it. The universe poured light and energy down upon her pretty head, seemingly without her trying. And that was her secret. The more she gave away, the more blessings she received, until like that proverbial cup, she simply brimmed over and spilled it on everyone around her. Like here. Like now. She had everyone dancing, singing, and praising the Lord.
Across the sanctuary, Tucker swayed cheek to cheek with Melissa, while Alex had both his girls, spinning them each in circles, laughing when they crashed back into him. Until that moment, Keller hadn’t known Alex smiled. But he surely did, at least with his wife and little girl.
Even stoic Tate was locked in Winslow’s arms, her head pressed under his chin as they followed along withthe song Savannah had started. These people didn’t seem to want to leave, and Keller didn’t blame them. The women’s voices truly were voices of angels, but those deep, resounding male voices… Holy Jesus, they vibrated the church walls with the energy of thunder and lightning. Of all things male and dominant. So low. So powerful. So damned strong. Shivers raced up Keller’s spine at the joyful menace behind every word. Every two-step. Every prayer. It was like watching God’s army in action.Watch and pray, indeed.
“I have something for you,” he whispered as he tugged her red beads up from his fancy new suit pocket.
“My rosary! I wondered where it went. Thanks.” She slid the sparkles over her head, and she was his queen again. They belonged there like he belonged around her little finger.
“I took them the night at the Ritz. Didn’t want you to strangle in your sleep.”
“Dance with me,” Savannah answered as if she’d never once worried where her beads were.
He grinned down at her. She knew he could dance, but here? In front of all these people?
Her bright eyes smiled up at him, sparkling as much as those red crystals. And Keller said what he intended to say for the rest of his life. “Yes, ma’am.”
Epilogue
Tucker Chase tipped his wide body back in his chair, far enough to plant both spit-polished boots on his desk and cross his ankles. Life wasn’t fair, not that he was complaining. He wasn’t. But complainers seemed to show up whenever two or more people put their pointed little heads together. Didn’t matter if they were special operators or civilians, popes or convicted criminals, someone in the crowd was always moaning and pissing. They whined when it rained, then whined when the sun came out. The day was too hot or too bright. They whined when they were hungry, and they whined after they’d eaten a twelve-course meal. Nothing was warm enough, cold enough, salted enough, bland enough, quiet or dark enough. Wah, wah, wah.
Some folks were just born to suck the joy out of life. Fun suckers. That’s what they were. They were glass half-empty types. Pain in the ass pansies who onlyoffered negative energy to every operation. They were road blockers, contributing argument after argument as to why nothing smart could work or why every proposal was flawed. They tore people down. The Navy was full of fun suckers. Hell, so was Congress.
But not Deuces Wild. Now there was a team to be proud of, and by hell, Tucker was. They might be only a handful in number, but they were mighty. Of course, the concept behind Deuces Wild still spooked the straights, what he called anyone not psychically endowed, but it was what it was. All through history, superior intelligence had confounded simple folks. Not that he was a genius or anything. Tucker knew most certainly that he was not. But Isaiah was. Eden might be too. Even Kell. Tucker wouldn’t be surprised. Kell had proven himself to be so much more than just a tortured empath. Once he’d let loose of his past, he’d changed overnight. Might have something to do with marrying Savannah Church. She’d finally met with Isaiah, and yes, she was another Level Ten. But unlike Isaiah, she came without emotional baggage. She’d been raised with nothing but love, and it had made one helluva difference.
