“Seven. I’ll be there,” he said, sounding relieved.
“Okay.” The line was disconnected.
Rachel’s co-workers knew something was up and started questioning her. When she told them Nate was being deployed, it seemed all the girls had advice they wanted to impart.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Jane said.
Rachel rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to bed with him, if that’s what you think.”
“It’s exactly what I think,” Terri said as she sidled up to Rachel’s station. “You’re nuts about this guy.”
“I don’t know what I feel,” she insisted, and it was true. Okay, there was a mutual physical attraction, but a relationship needed more than sex. If all she was looking for was physical, she could have it any night of the week. Even in this age of frightening consequences, she knew women who changed sexual partners as often as they changed their shoes. Rachel didn’t want casual sex; she wanted an emotional connection and a sense of genuine intimacy.
By the time she finished at the salon, Rachel was totally confused, torn between caution and wild desire. Her last appointment showed up late, so she didn’t get home to her small town house until almost six-thirty. The first thing she did was jump in the shower and then change clothes. Her hair was still wet when the doorbell rang. As quickly as she could, she added styling gel to her curls, ran her fingers through them and dashed to the door.
Nate stood there waiting. His eyes widened with appreciation when he saw her. “Hi.”
“Hi,” she said. “Come on in.” Before he could move, she held out a hand, stopping him. “Maybe that’s not such a good idea. What do you think?”
Nate grinned. “I’m thinking if I come inside, it could be dangerous.” He stared down at his feet and sighed. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know if I should be here, but I couldn’t stay away.”
Rachel had no answer to give him, but she silently rejoiced at his words.
His eyes held hers. “I’ve got a girlfriend back home. You know that.”
She nodded.
“You’re seeing that widower guy.”
“I am.” They’d been honest with each other from the beginning.
He continued to stand there, his eyes directly on hers.
“I’ll miss you when you go to sea,” she murmured.
“I’ll miss you, too.” He jerked his fingers through his hair in a nervous gesture. “Listen, we could go to dinner if you want. Talk.”
“Sure.” He seemed as aware of the sexual energy between them as she was. It was best to avoid temptation, she told herself, but she could still enjoy an evening with him-which seemed like a reasonable compromise. “Let me put on a pair of shoes and get my sweater.”
“Okay.”
He waited by the door as Rachel hurried into her bedroom, got what she needed and returned a moment later. Locking up, she followed him out to his car.
They ate at the Taco Shack and fed each other pickled jalapeños. Nate was the only man she knew who liked food as spicy as she did. They laughed and talked and seemed to have a million things to say to each other. The evening flew by and before Rachel realized it, the restaurant was closing.
“I guess I’d better take you home,” Nate said.
She reluctantly agreed. When she’d told him she was going to miss him, she hadn’t been flirting; she’d been telling the simple truth. They drove back to her place in silence.
“I’ll e-mail you, all right?”
“I don’t have a computer,” Rachel said. She’d never dated a guy in the Navy before, so this was all new to her.
“Oh. That might make it difficult to stay in touch.” He was clearly disappointed.
“How long do you think you’ll be away?”
“No idea. The Navy doesn’t let me help with the decision-making.”
She smiled at his sense of humor. They arrived at her house, and he pulled alongside the curb but kept the engine running.
They sat for a few minutes, neither speaking. “Rachel, I really enjoyed tonight. Every time I’m with you, I come away wanting to see you again and then I remember…”
She turned and pressed her finger to his lips. “Don’t say it.”
Nate hugged her and leaned his forehead against hers. “I’ve never wanted to kiss a woman more than I want to kiss you right now. I can’t, though, because I know what’ll happen next.”
Rachel knew it, too.
“But I don’t think I can stop myself.” Groaning, he closed his eyes, then gently, sweetly, touched his mouth to hers. His arms tightened around her and he sighed. Slowly he withdrew his lips from hers before their brief kiss could develop into anything more. “I’ll walk you to your door,” he said in a low, husky voice.
“You don’t need to. I can see myself in.”
“No,” he insisted. “My mother would have my head if I didn’t.”
“Okay.” He certainly wasn’t making this easy.
He held her hand as they walked to her door, which he unlocked. When he’d finished, he handed her back the keys.
“I’ll wait to hear from you,” she said.
He nodded.
“Be safe, Nate.”
He nodded again, his expression somber.
Rachel lightly touched the side of his face and, unable to resist, brought her lips to his. Like him, she didn’t give the kiss a chance to become anything more than a quick farewell. She walked hurriedly inside.
Nate returned to his car and once she’d heard him pull away from the curb, Rachel opened the front door and stood looking down the street. The tears that burned her eyes shocked her a little. She hardly knew Nate Olsen. They’d gone out a grand total of three times, and at the end of every one of these dates, she’d had the impression she wouldn’t see him again.
Sniffling, Rachel went into the bathroom and grabbed a tissue. If she was going to fall in love, the least she could do was be smart about it. Oh, no, not her. She had to complicate everything and fall for a sailor who was as good as engaged to another woman.
Sitting in the dark with her bare feet on the coffee table, she continued to bemoan her pathetic love life. The light over her door shone dimly, but it didn’t really illuminate the room, despite the uncurtained windows. If she had any sense, she’d get up and turn on the lamp, but in her present frame of mind she preferred to sit in the dark.
Someone knocked on her door, and through her window she could see the shadowy shape of a man. Her breath caught in her throat as she ran to answer it. There, on the other side, stood Nate with his hands shoved in his back pockets.
At first all they did was stare at each other. Then, as if magnetically drawn to him, she stepped closer.
“I don’t know what’s happening to us,” he whispered, “but I couldn’t just leave you like this.”
Rachel felt the same way.
“For the first time since I joined the Navy, I don’t want to go to sea.”
Rachel didn’t want him to leave, either.
“Come with me.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. Let’s sit on the beach and watch the stars.”
She wanted to shriek and sob with joy. “Are you going to kiss me?”
He grinned boyishly. “Probably. Are you going to let me?”
She smiled, too. “I’m thinking about it.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “Don’t think too long.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
The alarm buzzed and with a frustrated groan, Ian rolled over and cuddled Cecilia close. Slipping his hand over her waist, he lightly pressed his palm to the ever-so-slight bulge.
“Hmm,” Cecilia purred softly as the radio played a Carly Simon tune. “Don’t tell me it’s time to get up.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Afraid so.”
She laid her hand over his. “Baby says good morning, too.”
“Morning, baby,” Ian whispered. The words nearly stalled in his throat. This was the last mor
ning he’d be with Cecilia until after the baby was born. The George Washington was being deployed to the South Pacific for the next number of months. Six was what they’d been told, but it could be longer.
Cecilia rolled onto her back and looked up at him with her dark brown eyes. “Everything’s going to be okay. Stop worrying.”
Ian wasn’t sure whether she was trying to convince him or herself.
“I’ll be fine. I have friends this time.” She rested her head against his bare shoulder.
“Does that mean you won’t miss me?” Ian attempted to make a joke out of it, but failed.
“Oh, honey, you know I will.”
“Some husbands and wives get into big fights about now. Makes it easier to leave.”
Kissing his jaw, she whispered, “I’d rather make love than argue.”
“Me, too.” He never was much good at arguing with her, anyway. He loved Cecilia beyond reason. And, in spite of his fears, he’d come to believe that if they continued to put off having another child until he felt “ready,” it would never happen.
“How much time do we have?” Cecilia whispered as she stroked his upper arms.
He nibbled on her ear. “Enough.”
Her smile was slow and sexy as she tucked one silky leg between his. Their lovemaking was hot and urgent. Afterward they held each other for a long time, neither willing to release the other. It meant they had to rush so he could make his quarters, but Ian didn’t care.
Cecilia hurriedly dressed to drive him to the shipyard. While he gathered up the remainder of his things, she walked out to the parking area to start the car. Although she’d tried to hide it, Ian had seen the tears in her eyes. She wasn’t the only one who felt emotionally shaky; in all the years he’d been with the Navy, he’d never dreaded going to sea the way he did now. His attitude must have shown because the minute he slipped into the car, Cecilia offered him an encouraging smile.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” she assured him again, but he read through her bravado.
Ian desperately wanted to believe her. But he couldn’t quite overcome his doubts. Dread almost overwhelmed him as she backed out of the parking area.
“It really is all right, Ian.” She gently touched his knee.
“You know this, do you?” He didn’t mean to sound so sharp, but every fear caused by the death of their first child was staring him in the face with this second one. The knot in his stomach refused to go away and wouldn’t until he knew for a fact that she’d delivered a healthy baby girl.
“I’ll send you updates every time I go to the doctor.”
“Promise?” Mixed in with his fears was the suspicion that Cecilia would try to protect him from the truth. But he wanted to know every detail of her pregnancy. Needed to know.
“I promise,” she vowed.
They rode in silence for a short while. All the time Cecilia was driving, Ian worried that when the moment came to leave, he wouldn’t be able to do it. His gut told him this deployment was history repeating itself. They’d known Cecilia was pregnant with a girl when he’d left three years ago. She was pregnant again with a girl.
He’d been at sea when Allison was born.
He’d be at sea when their second child was born, too.
Cecilia’s ultrasound had looked perfectly normal the first time.
This ultrasound revealed nothing abnormal, either.
Now he was leaving, and the weight on his chest was almost more than he could bear.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Maryellen sat on the balcony outside the master bedroom and stared out over the calm waters of Puget Sound. She could see Mount Rainier clearly in the distance. It seemed close enough to touch.
Katie slept peacefully, curled up on Maryellen’s lap. The little girl’s hand clutched her favorite blanket, her other thumb in her mouth.
Closing her eyes, she breathed in the briny scent of the sea and listened to the muted sounds of late afternoon. It’d been nine days since she’d miscarried her baby. Nine days since she’d slept a whole night, and nine days since her heart was torn to shreds.
Jon had been attentive and thoughtful, anticipating her every need. Yet they lived as polite strangers. He was worried about her, and Maryellen suspected he’d talked to her mother because Grace had been by to visit nearly every day.
At the sound of her husband’s footsteps behind her, Maryellen glanced over her shoulder.
“Did I wake you?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Do you want something to drink?”
She declined with another shake of her head.
Jon sat down in the rocking chair beside the swing. “We haven’t talked in a while.”
Maryellen cradled her sleeping daughter. “There hasn’t been anything to say.”
“I’m sorry about the baby.” Jon’s words were hoarse with emotion. He said it so often, and each time it made her want to weep all over again.
“Do you mind if we don’t discuss the miscarriage? There is no baby.”
Jon wiped a hand over his face. “I blame myself for this.”
“You did nothing, Jon. You have nothing to feel guilty about. These things happen.” She repeated what the physician had said, but his words had been of little comfort then and were of less comfort now. However, that was all she had to offer her husband.
“I was angry and stupid.”
Maryellen didn’t respond.
“You didn’t even tell me you were pregnant. You couldn’t-because I wouldn’t let you.”
“Jon, don’t. Please don’t.” She was too depressed to hear him punish himself over this.
“It’s because of the pregnancy that you decided to stay with your mother, isn’t it?”
Maryellen refused to answer. So many things had gone through her mind the day of Charlotte and Ben’s wedding. Jon had been so angry with her and so unforgiving. He’d refused to even talk about it. When she’d left for her mother’s, he’d let her go without uttering a single word to stop her. The only reason she was at the house now was that he’d brought her here from the hospital.
Jon got out of the chair and started pacing back and forth. “Maryellen, please just say something.”
She looked up at him, puzzled by his outburst. “What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know. Anything. Just don’t sit there staring off into the distance. I can’t stand to see you like this.”
“I’m grieving…”
“For the baby?”
She nodded. “And for us.”
Jon leaned against the support column, as if he didn’t have the strength to stay upright.
“Less than two weeks ago, you were willing to let Katie and me walk away. Remember?”
Jon didn’t answer.
“I know what I did in contacting your parents was wrong,” Maryellen whispered, “but I never set out to hurt you. All I wanted to do was help.”
“I didn’t want your help,” he shouted, startling Katie who jumped and began to fuss until she found her thumb again.
With Maryellen’s steady hand on her back, Katie quickly returned to sleep. “Let’s talk about this another time.”
“No.” Jon was pacing again, back and forth, like a man possessed. His mouth thinned. “I told you before I don’t need my parents, don’t want them in my life. You and Katie are the only family I have.”
If what he said was true, then he wouldn’t have let her drive away that Saturday afternoon.
He held out his hands in silent pleading.
As she continued to watch him, he plowed his fingers through his hair, then straightened and seemed to come to some resolution. “Do you want a divorce?” he asked suddenly.
“No, but I wonder how long our marriage will last.”
Her remark obviously shocked him, and Maryellen felt she had to explain herself. “You so easily cast aside people who love you. If you can cut yourself off from your father and stepmother, then you can do it with Katie
and me. In time you probably will.”
“That isn’t true.” He fell to his knees in front of her, clasping her hands and gazing up at her intently. “Look at me, Maryellen. You and Katie are everything to me.”
“Until I do something that upsets you.”
He stood and put distance between them. “That’s not true.”
Maryellen didn’t have the will to argue. She knew otherwise.
“Do you want me to tell you I’m willing to forget what my father did? Is that what you want me to say?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I want you to have peace,” she whispered.
“Peace?” He repeated the word as if he’d never heard it before. “You want me to have peace or you want me to make peace with my parents?”
“Both,” she said, “but until you find peace within yourself, you won’t be able to deal with your parents.”
“I was perfectly happy with my life until you came along.”
Despite herself, Maryellen grinned. “You only thought you were.”
“I don’t need them.”
“You kept their letters,” she said softly.
“I meant to throw them away.”
“But you didn’t. It must’ve given you some kind of emotional gratification when they wrote letter after letter, and you never answered.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
She shrugged. “Perhaps not.”
“You want me to make peace with them and I can’t. I won’t. I’m sorry, Maryellen, but even for you I can’t do it.”
Such a lack of forgiveness was frightening to Maryellen. “I don’t expect you to forget what they did, but forgiving is something else,” she said.
He shook his head vehemently.
“You must feel a real sense of justification and righteousness knowing how badly they wronged you-and knowing that you’re punishing them now.”
His eyes blazed, but he held his tongue.
“I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand the full extent of your pain. Your family betrayed you. They chose your brother over you and you’re angry.”
“You’re damned straight I am.”
“You have every right to be. Perhaps they don’t deserve your forgiveness, but don’t you see what this bitterness has done to you? Don’t you understand that until you can let go of this pain, you’re incapable of experiencing real joy?”
44 Cranberry Point Page 29
