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Chapter 8

Lindy liked Susan Dwyer the minute the two met. Susan’s reddish-brown hair was naturally curly, and although it was styled fashionably short, it managed to fall in an unruly array surrounding her pert face. She possessed the largest, liveliest brown eyes that Lindy could ever remember seeing on anyone. They sparkled with intelligence and vitality, glinting with warmth and curiosity as they studied Lindy.

“Jeff has talked of little else since he met you the other day,” Susan confessed.

“It was certainly nice of you to invite Rush and me over for dinner,” Lindy returned. Twin boys, about eighteen months of age with reddish caps of curly hair like their mother’s stood at the edge of their playpen, silently regarding the two women through large, doleful brown eyes. They’d recently awakened from a late-afternoon nap and looked mournfully toward Susan in the hope that she’d abandon her dinner guests and play with them.

“A meal is a small price to pay to meet you.”

Lindy smiled at that. “I take it Rush hasn’t said much about me?”

“Are you kidding? He’s been so tight-mouthed one would think you were top-secret information.”

“That sounds like Rush.” Lindy’s gaze sought him out and found him and Jeff on the back patio, lighting up the barbecue grill. Just watching him gave her a solid, warm feeling deep inside her breast. She’d found him attractive before, but now, set against this low-key social background, dressed casually in jeans and a striped shirt, looking relaxed and at ease, she found she loved him all the more.

“Rush and Jeff have been friends a lot of years,” Susan went on to say. She opened the refrigerator, brought out a large bowl of potato salad and set it on the kitchen counter. “Jeff knew the first day after the Mitchell returned that something had happened to Rush. He mentioned it to me right away, but it wasn’t until last week that he knew that Rush had found a special woman.”

“Rush is the one who’s special.” Lindy continued to study him, trying to put the knowledge that he’d be leaving out of her mind long enough to enjoy this one evening with his friends.

Susan turned around and her gaze followed Lindy’s. “He’s happier now than I can ever remember seeing him. More serene. You’ve been good for him, Lindy—really good. I didn’t used to like Rush…. Actually I was only reciprocating what he felt toward me. I think I may have reminded him of someone he knew a long time ago. Although Jeff’s never told me this, I believe Rush may have tried to talk him out of marrying me.”

“I’ve never known a man who can frown the way he does,” Lindy said with a soft sigh. “I swear one of those famous looks of his could curdle milk a block away.”

Susan hooted. “I know exactly the look you mean.”

“How long have you and Jeff been married?” From everything Rush had told Lindy about Susan, and he’d spoken of little else on the hour-long ferry ride to Bremerton, Rush held his friend’s wife in the highest regard. She was surprised to hear he’d once felt differently.

“We’ve been married about two and a half years now.”

Jeff said something that caused Rush to chuckle. The low, modulated laugh seemed to shoot into the sky. Then they both laughed.

Surprised, Lindy and Susan turned around.

“I don’t think I’ve ever really heard Rush laugh quite like that…. So free,” Susan murmured, as she gazed at the two men. “He’s always been so cynical, so stoic. I never really knew what he was thinking. When we first met he terrified me.”

“I know what you felt,” Lindy said slowly. “The first couple of days after I met Rush, I found myself wanting to thwart him. He can be such an arrogant bastard.”

“And at the same time there’s something so appealing about him,” Susan answered thoughtfully. “And I’m not talking about how good-looking he is, either, although God knows he’s handsome enough. But even when he openly disapproved of me, I couldn’t help admiring and respecting him. It took time to earn his trust, and despite everything I was glad he was Jeff’s friend. There’s something inherently strong about Rush. Strong and intensely loyal. I’ve always known Rush would look out for Jeff no matter what the circumstances. It helped when Jeff had to leave…. Knowing he would be with Rush.”

“He’s the Rock of Gibraltar, I know,” Lindy answered softly, loving him so much her heart ached. “Loyal and constant.” She tried not to think about the huge aircraft carrier sailing out of Bremerton, taking Rush thousands of miles away from her. She attempted to push away all thoughts of how empty her life would be after the Mitchell left.

“What’s it like?” Lindy whispered, hardly aware the words had slipped from her mouth.

Intuitively, it seemed, Susan knew what she was asking. “I don’t sleep for the first week. No matter how many times Jeff leaves, it’s always the same. For seven days I lie in bed and stare at the ceiling, my stomach in knots. As much as I try I can’t seem to stop fretting and worrying. Finally I’m so exhausted my body takes over, and I’m able to sleep.”

“Rush told me you are one of the strongest women he knows…. The best kind of navy wife.”

Susan’s countenance softened and her cheeks flushed to a fetching shade of rose pink. She dipped her head a little and murmured, “How sweet of him to say so.”

“What does Jeff say about your sleeping problems?” Lindy asked.

Susan shrugged. “He doesn’t know.”

“But…”

“He has enough worries and responsibilities aboard the Mitchell without me burdening him with more. As much as possible I send him off with a smile and handle anything that arises as best I can while he’s gone.”

“I’m afraid,” Lindy admitted reluctantly. “Not because Rush is leaving; I…I can accept that. But I worry about them sailing in the Persian Gulf.” Every night, it seemed, the news was filled with reports of violence in the troubled waters of the Middle East. Before they’d left the apartment she’d heard reports about gunboats that had attempted to attack the U.S. Naval forces that very afternoon. Lindy hadn’t mentioned to Rush what she was feeling, knowing he’d brush off her concern. She wanted to be strong, wanted to be brave for both their sakes.

Susan’s dark eyes clouded and her chin trembled just a little. “After what happened to the Stark, we’re all concerned. You aren’t alone. But if any of us wives were to dwell on the danger, we’d soon be basket cases. I try to put it out of my mind as much as I can. I believe in Jeff, too. He’s damn good at what he does and he’s part of the most advanced naval fleet in the world. My security rests in the fact that he can take care of himself and his men. Rush can, too.”

“I haven’t told Rush how afraid I am.”

“Good.” Susan’s gentle smile was encouraging.

“I…love Rush.” The words came out hoarse and broken. She didn’t have the security Susan and the other navy wives had. Rush had done nothing more than ask her to wait for him. At most, she could be considered his girlfriend, his sweetheart. “I don’t want to lose him.” She dropped her gaze and rubbed her open hands down the front of her jeans, more fearful than ever over what the future could hold. “I’ve only known him two weeks…. I can’t believe I feel this strongly.”

“It was like that with Jeff and me. We married within a month after we met, and he left for six months in the South Pacific almost immediately afterward. Talk about worry!”

“But I thought that area was relatively peaceful.”

Susan cast an affectionate look toward her husband. “It wasn’t that. I…I was more concerned about how attractive Jeff would find those lovely Polynesian girls.”

“Oh.” Lindy hadn’t thought of that.

Susan blushed a little. “I was pregnant at the time, feeling completely miserable and about as sexy as a tuna casserole. Naturally we didn’t know it was twins and I was desperately sick every morning. The highlight of each day was when the mail was delivered. I’d wait all morning and pray there’d be a letter from Jeff. When one finally did arrive, Jeff wrote in detail, telling me about this erotic show he and Rush had managed to see while on shore leave on a small island whose name I can’t even pronounce. Topless dancers and the whole bit. I was so upset I cried for days, convinced he didn’t love me anymore, and if he did that he’d never want to make love to me again.” She pressed her hands over her small breasts. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly richly endowed in that area.”

“I’m not exactly Dolly Parton myself.”

They laughed together in an easy camaraderie, as if they’d known each other for a long time instead of just a few short hours.

“Anyway, I didn’t write back. Every time I thought about him gawking at those other women and their gorgeous boobs, I got all the more furious. Here I was, heaving my guts out every morning and my loyal, true-blue husband was living it up on shore leave on some exotic island and writing home about how randy he was.”

“I don’t blame you for not writing back. I’m not sure I would have, either.”

“Oh, Lindy,” Susan said, pressing her hand on Lindy’s forearm, her eyes wide and serious. “It was a terrible thing to do. Jeff about went crazy. He didn’t know what had happened to me, and I think it nearly broke him mentally. I got the most soul-wrenching, tormented letter from him, begging me to let him know what had happened. His mind had worked everything into such a terrible state that he was convinced I’d lost the baby—we didn’t know it was babies then—or even that I might have left him for another man. When I finally wrote and told him how unhappy I was that he’d gone to a stupid topless show he made me promise never, ever to do anything like that to him again.”

“Was Jeff here when Timmy and Tommy were born?”

Hearing their names mentioned, the twins cooed and stamped their feet, wanting out of their playpen prison. Susan was busy putting the finishing touches on the relish plate, so Lindy lifted first one and then the other, balancing them on her hips. The two were an armful, but Lindy managed, briefly wondering how Susan coped with them twenty-four hours a day.

“It worked out that Jeff was home for the birth, but we were lucky because he was scheduled for sea trials on my due date. The boys obliged us by arriving ten days early.”

Timmy wound his fingers through Lindy’s hair while Tommy took pleasure in playing with the spaghetti strap of her summer top.

“Rush is the boys’ godfather,” Susan explained. “The only times I’ve ever seen him let down his guard were with them—and then tonight with you. He’d make a wonderful father someday.”

“I think he would, too,” Lindy said, kissing the chubby cheek of each twin. The boys laughed and Timmy tried to lean over and grab a pickle from his mother’s hands.

“Just a minute, son,” Susan told him. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

To keep the pair entertained until their mother dished up their dinner plates, Lindy bounced them up and down on her hips in a jaunty, trotting step around the kitchen. She was laughing, her face flushed and happy, when she looked up to discover Rush standing on the other side of the sliding glass door, watching her.

His deep blue eyes were so intense that her breath caught in her throat. Lindy thought for a moment that she might have done something to anger him. His gaze had narrowed, but there was a light shining from it that didn’t speak of anger, but of something else, something far stronger that she couldn’t define. A muscle worked in his cheek, and he seemed to be taking in every detail of her as she bounced the chubby cherubs on her hips.

Jeff must have called him because Rush turned abruptly and left without saying a word.

“Here, I’ll take one of the boys,” Susan offered, lifting Tommy from Lindy’s hip. She carried the squirming child outside where two high chairs were positioned side by side next to the round picnic table.

Lindy followed her onto the patio and slipped Timmy into his seat.

“I learned a long time ago that it’s best to feed the boys before Jeff and I even try to eat.”

Lindy noted Susan had dished up foods her young sons could eat with their hands: chicken legs, finger-Jell-O, pickles and potato chips made up the twins’ meal.

“They’re getting so independent. They make a terrible fuss if I try to spoon-feed them anymore.”

“Can they feed themselves?”

“For the most part.” Susan was busy strapping in each toddler. “Believe me, it’s a test of patience because more food lands on the floor and wall than ever makes it into their mouths. Afterward it’s easier to squirt them down than to try to wash their hands and faces.”

Lindy laughed at the visual image of Susan holding the boys while Jeff brought around the garden hose.

Rush’s friend strolled to his wife’s side and slipped his arm around her slim waist. Susan was a full head shorter than her husband and fit neatly into his embrace. “Are you ready for me to put the steaks on the grill?”

Susan nodded and leaned her supple form against her husband. She went up on tiptoe and brushed a kiss over his cheek. She paused then and smiled up at him. “Anytime you want.”

Lindy watched, fascinated by the tender exchange between husband and wife. From what little Susan had told her she knew the couple had gotten off to a rocky start. They’d worked hard to find happiness together and it showed. Jeff and Susan didn’t require words to communicate. A shared look, a soft sigh would often be all that was required. How Lindy envied them. How she wished everything was settled between her and Rush. But it wasn’t. And he’d be leaving her in just a few, intolerably short days.

* * *

They caught the nine o’clock ferry back to Seattle. Jeff dropped them off at the terminal and after Susan and Lindy had shared hugs and Lindy had kissed the boys goodbye, Lindy and Rush walked onto the waiting boat.

Although he shouldn’t have been, Rush was astonished at the way Lindy and Susan had become such fast friends. The two had talked and laughed as if they’d known each other since childhood. Now that he thought about it, the two women were quite a bit alike. Both were intelligent, sensitive and personable. And both were in love with navy men. It took a special breed of woman to fit into the military life-style, to accept the long separations, brief reunions and the fact that family must always come second in their husbands’ lives.

Both Lindy and he had come away from the evening refreshed. Jeff had given definition to the unknown emotions Rush had been dealing with the past two days. Rush had asked his friend how he managed to leave Susan and the twins and not look back—and had witnessed the instant flash of regret that shot into his friend’s eyes. Jeff had explained that the last days before he sailed were always the worst. He didn’t want to leave Susan, didn’t want to think of not being able to love her for months on end. Nor did he like to think about all that he was missing in his children’s lives. He’d been at sea when their first teeth had come in, and on sea trials when they’d taken their first steps. Now he’d be leaving them again, and his mind was crowded with everything he wasn’t going to be there to experience.

Then Jeff had asked Rush if he’d had a fight with Lindy recently. Rush’s astonishment must have shown because Jeff had laughed and said the same thing happened to him and Susan every time he found out when he’d be sailing. Like clockwork. His fault, usually. But he and Susan had made a promise to each other long ago. No matter what they fought about, they never left anything unsettled between them.

“I’m going to stand outside,” Lindy said, cutting into Rush’s thoughts. The ferry had been underway for about twenty minutes. She stood and buttoned her sweater before heading for the weather deck.

“Sure. Go ahead,” Rush answered. He didn’t mind the long ride to and from the shipyard each day. Most of the navy personnel lived in Kitsap County, across Puget Sound from Seattle. But Rush preferred the cultural advantages of living in a big city.

Rush watched as Lindy moved outside the passenger area and stood against the stern, her hands on the rail. The wind whipped the hair from her face and plastered her thin sweater against her soft curves.

Just watching Lindy, Rush felt his heart constrict. When she’d been holding Timmy and Tommy, laughing with them, bouncing the twins on her hips, Rush hadn’t been able to tear his gaze away from her. The earth could have opened up and swallowed him whole and he swore he wouldn’t have been aware of it.

Seeing her with those two babies had been the most powerful, most emotional moment of his life. The sudden overwhelming physical desire for her was like a knife slicing into his skin and scraping against a bone—it had gone that deep. Not once, not even with Cheryl had he thought about children. He enjoyed Jeff’s sons. They were cute little rascals, but seeing Lindy with those babies had created a need so strong in him he doubted that his life would ever be the same again. He wanted a child. Son or daughter, he didn’t care. What did matter was that Lindy be their mother.

Even now, hours later, his eyes couldn’t get enough of her as she stood, braced against the wind. He thought about her belly swollen with his seed, her breasts full and heavy, and the desire that stabbed through him was like hot needles. The sensation curled into a tight ball in the center of his abdomen. He’d longed for her physically before now. The thought of making love to her had dominated his thoughts from the first morning he’d stumbled upon her in the bathroom wearing those sexy see-through baby-doll pajamas.

But the physical desire he was experiencing now far exceeded anything he’d previously known. And it was different in ways he couldn’t even begin to explain.

Unable to stay parted from her a minute longer, Rush left his seat and stepped outside, joining her at the railing.

Wordlessly he slipped his arm over her shoulder. Lindy looked up at him, and her eyes were unusually dark and solemn. The effort it cost her to smile was revealed in the feeble movement of her mouth.

“Lindy?”

She pressed her index finger across his lips the way she did when she didn’t want there to be questions between them. Although she strove valiantly to prevent them, tears filled her sweet, adoring gaze. Inhaling a wobbly breath, she pressed her forehead against his chest in a vain attempt to compose herself.

Rush wrapped his arms around her, needing to comfort her, feeling strangely lost as to what to say or do, and not completely understanding what was wrong. Her lithe frame molded against him and he reveled in the feel of her softness pressed to him. “Honey, what is it?”

She shook her head. “Susan said…”

“She offend you?” Rush couldn’t imagine it, and yet the anger rose in him instantly.

Lindy swiftly jerked her head from side to side. “No…no, of course not.” Her arms were around his middle now, her eyes as dry as she could make them. But her chin quivered with the effort.

She lifted a hand and touched the side of his face, her eyes full of such tenderness that it was all Rush could do to meet her gaze.

“Do you remember the night we met?”

He grinned. “I’m not likely to forget it. I nearly tossed you into the street.”

“You were perfectly horrible. So uncompromising…so unreadable.”

“So arrogant,” he added, regretting every harsh word he’d ever said to her.

The corner of her mouth quirked with a swift smile. “A good dose of healthy arrogance to put me in my place as I recall.”

He brushed the hair from her face and nodded, resisting kissing her, although it was difficult.

“I disliked you so much…. I actually looked forward to thwarting you. I could hardly wait for you to leave. And now…now I dread it. I wish I could be more like Susan. She’s so brave.”

“She’s had far more experience at this than you.” Rush searched her face, and under his scrutiny the normally cool, composed features began to quiver with unspoken anguish. He understood then. She was afraid, almost desperately so, and bravely holding it all inside. Pierced to the quick by his own thoughtlessness, he tightened his grip on her and breathed in the sweet flowery fragrance of her silky dark hair.

“Honey, nothing’s going to happen to me.”

“But…the gunboats…the missiles.”

“I’m coming back to you, Lindy.”

She brushed her hands down her cheeks to wipe away the sheen of tears. “You think I’m being silly and emotional, don’t you? This isn’t wartime, and nothing is likely to happen, but I can’t help thinking…”

He took her by the shoulders then, gripping her tightly. “No,” he said sternly, his heart filling with a mixture of concern, tenderness and understanding. His mind groped for the words to comfort her. “You’re not overreacting. It is going to be dangerous; I’m not trying to whitewash our assignment. But, Lindy, my sweet Lindy, I’ve never had anything more to live for than I do right this minute.”

“You’d better come back to me, Rush Callaghan.” She said it as though it were a fierce threat and the consequences would be dire if he didn’t.

Death was the only thing that would keep him from Lindy. Unless…The thought was as crippling to him as the fear of him dying was to Lindy. “Then you’d better be waiting for me.”

Her sturdy gaze held his and his hands slid from their grip on her shoulder to stroke her slim, swan-like neck.

“You still don’t trust my love, do you?” she asked, looking sad and disappointed.

“Yes,” he answered, nodding his head for emphasis. “I believe you.” He wasn’t sure he should—she was so young, so susceptible—but God help him, he needed everything Lindy was so generously offering him.

He took her hand and brushed his lips over her palm and then, because he couldn’t resist and didn’t give a tinker’s damn who was watching, he kissed her mouth.

* * *

It was ten by the time the Yakima docked in Seattle. The hike to the apartment was a steep climb, but the night was so gorgeous that Lindy didn’t want to hurry home. Every minute left was precious and wasting even a single one would be a crime.

“Let’s go to the park,” she suggested.

Rush looked bewildered for a moment, and asked, “What park?”

“The one here on the waterfront.”

“Whatever for?”

Lindy laughed and slapped her hand noisily against her side. “So much for romance.”

“Romance?”

“Come on, Rush. I’m finished crying. When you sail off into the sunset, I’ll be there wearing a smile. All I ask is for you to humor me a little before you go. If that means taking a short detour to look at the stars from Waterfront Park, I think you should at least be willing.”

“Lindy—” he said her name on the tail end of a sigh “—you’ve got to get up and go to work in the morning.”

She thought for a moment he might refuse her, but he didn’t. He slipped his arm around her waist and guided her in the direction of the park.

They climbed the stairs to the second level and stood at the railing, overlooking the quiet green water. The lights from Harbor Island and West Seattle flickered like moonbeams dancing in the distance.

Lindy folded her hands over the cold steel rail, Rush behind her, his chin resting on the crown of her head. “Remember the last time we were here?” Lindy asked, thinking of their wild race up the stairs and the joy she’d experienced in having bested him.

“Yes.” Rush’s low voice carried a frown.

Lindy twisted around and gazed up at him. “Why do you say it like that?”

“You called me Paul. Remember?”

It took her a second to recall that and all that had happened afterward. “Was that really such a short time ago?” It felt like years instead of just a few weeks.

“Yes.” His brow pleated with a grim look.

“No wonder you think I can’t possibly know my own heart,” she whispered, a little desperately. “No wonder you’ve never told me how you feel.”

His brows lowered even more, shadowing his face as though he’d realized he’d never said it. “I love you, Lindy.”

She closed her eyes and let the words rain down over her heart like velvety smooth flower petals, relishing each one, holding them close so she would have them later when she needed them. “I know,” she whispered, the tears back in her voice. “I just wanted to hear you say it one time before you left.”