One of the Boys

by Merline Lovelace

  “All set?” her boss asked.

  “Yes.”

  She took a deep breath and smiled as they entered the plush conference room, where she gave her slides to a young captain. Ed introduced her to the group in the room, half of whom were military and the other half civilian. She was just getting herself a cup of coffee when everyone scrambled to their feet as Jake walked in.

  “As you were. Dr. Phillips, if you’re ready?”

  Nodding, Maura set down her coffee and assembled her notes.

  Jake hid a wry smile as she took to the podium. As many times as he’d been in this room, he’d never been briefed by a staffer wearing a blouse in a shade of yellow so vivid it could have stopped traffic on Eglin Boulevard. The chunky bracelet on her left wrist clinked as she picked up the control device and pressed it to bring up the first slide.

  “Good morning, gentlemen. The purpose of this briefing is to update you on the status of the engineering efforts to modify the Maverick missile mounts on the F-1l7 Stealth fighter. Our goal is to design a rack-mounting assembly that will increase the loads in the Stealth’s internal weapons bay.

  “The fundamental issue is, of course, whether the internal support structures will hold a bigger payload and release it cleanly without destroying the lightweight composite materials that give the Stealth its radar-evading capability.”

  Jake leaned forward, totally fascinated with this cool, crisp woman. She was so different from the one he’d spent that interminable evening with. And from the bay-walker with the floppy hat and breath-stealing bathing suit cut high on her thighs.

  This one delivered slide after slide in precise fashion. The briefing was perfectly pitched to her audience of pilots and test engineers. She explained every detail in operational terms, illustrated every potential issue with drawings or charts. The briefing lasted nearly an hour, after which she fielded questions from the floor.

  Jake sat quietly, letting his staff quiz her. She handled the questions without once resorting to her notes.

  “An excellent briefing,” he commented when the questions wound down. “Your estimates for completing the structural simulations are more optimistic than those my staff gave me. Do you really think we have the capability to do them in-house?”

  “Yes, I do. Particularly with the new supercomputer that just came online. I’ll run the simulations and have the results for you by next week, Colonel.”

  Jake raised his eyebrows. “Fine. I’ll expect daily progress reports. Dr. Harrington, anything you’d like to add?”

  Ed gave Maura a broad wink and shook his head. “I think Dr. Phillips has covered everything.”

  When the group broke up, Jake moved through the crowd. Her face showed a wary caution as he approached and waited for the others to depart.

  “Was there something else, Colonel?”

  “Look, about my remark yesterday morning in Ed’s office. The one about rising above our personal differences to work together.”

  “Oh, yes. When you implied even a ditzy California girl had to occasionally put aside her half-baked prejudices in the interests of national defense.”

  Jake winced. “Well, I don’t think that was quite the meaning I intended, but in any case, I apologize.”

  The apology surprised Maura. The wry grin that accompanied it melted some of her cool reserve.

  “Apology accepted, Colonel.”

  Pete was waiting for her when she got back to her office. “How did it go?”

  “Great! Fine! Well, okay. Tell you what, why don’t I buy you lunch at the Dock and fill you in. I owe you for all your help last night.”

  By the time they settled down on the outside deck of a popular seafood restaurant, Maura’s adrenaline had receded to normal levels and she was able to give Pete the gist of what had happened. They couldn’t talk specifics in the open, of course, but each knew enough about the project now to communicate in totally unclassified code.

  “Jeez, Maura, I’m amazed at how much you’ve learned so quickly,” Pete said finally as he leaned back. “Not just about the Maverick, but about the test business as a whole.”

  “I may be new to Eglin,” she reminded him gently, “but I’m not exactly new to the airplane business.”

  “Yeah, but still, working concept designs for big aircraft is a lot different from building bombs and missiles.”

  “Not that different. Our initial design work included the weapons that would be carried on the platform. Still, it is exciting here at Eglin to actually see the things fly and the systems work.”

  Their conversation turned desultory as the noon sun beat down. Maura felt the tension drain from her and a comfortable lassitude creep in. When they left the little restaurant, she was too tired to go back to work. She’d been at the office until almost 2:00 a.m. the night before.

  The lack of sleep was catching up with her. She didn’t want to start the computer simulation she had to do in this condition. That would require total concentration and every ounce of her energy for long hours in front of the terminal. Instead, she made a quick call to Ed’s office to let him know she was taking a few hours’ comp time, and grabbed the little box of pottery shards from her desk drawer.

  Driving the few miles from the base to downtown Fort Walton Beach was pure pleasure. A thrill shot through her as she crossed the bridges over the little inlets that divided the town and saw how the sun sparkled on the blue-green water. When she turned into a parking spot behind the little cinder-block building of the historical society, she’d shrugged off most of the stress of preparing for the briefing.

  “Good afternoon, dear. May I help you?”

  Maura bit her lip as a slight, elderly woman came into the musty outer room. If she’d ever stopped to wonder who would work in a historical society, she probably would have pictured a woman like this one. But she wouldn’t have pictured a museum docent in high-top sneakers and a baggy sweatshirt with Save the Turtles picked out in neon letters.

  Maura tipped some of the pieces out of her little box, then held out her palm. “A friend and I found these in the bay a few yards off the shore. We think they may be Indian pieces.”

  “Oh, yes, I recognize some of the designs. Come on back to our Early Ancestors Room. You’ll see very similar type of work.”

  Mrs. Bowman, or so her hand-lettered name tag proclaimed, led the way through a couple of rooms filled with early black-and-white photographs of the town to one that contained a haphazard jumble of Spanish, Indian and what looked like pirate paraphernalia.

  “Our collection of Indian pottery isn’t as complete as the one in the Indian Temple Mound Museum downtown,” Mrs. Bowman continued, shifting a stack of pamphlets sitting atop a glass case filled with pottery and arrowheads.

  “You really should visit it.”

  “I thought about it, but the museum was closed today. I had your address, so I thought I would try here. Oh, look, there’s a design exactly like one of my pieces.”

  “The Cherokee didn’t actually live in this area, but they did trade with our local Creek tribes, as well as with the Seminoles to the south. The pieces in this case are relatively recent. Over here are some of the older finds, from the prehistoric tribes who hunted and fished on the bay.”

  Maura lingered for a good half hour, examining the pieces and looking for design matches. Mrs. Bowman found an old, yellowed pamphlet written by an early scholar on southeastern Indian tribes, and offered to make a copy for her. When questioned, she didn’t know the exact laws concerning retention of relics found in the bay, but suggested the state offices in Pensacola.

  Maura got home late that afternoon and finally tracked down the right person to talk to in the Pensacola office. After a brief debate, she decided to call Lisa. She found Colonel Jake McAllister’s number easily enough in the local directory and arranged to meet the excited teenager in fifteen minutes at the cove.

  “Gosh, this is really awesome.” Lisa sat on the edge of the bank beside Bea and skimmed through th
e photocopied pamphlet. “Look, here’s a pot with a design just like one of the pieces we found.”

  “I know. And look here.” Maura thumbed through the pamphlet. “Here’s another that’s estimated to be more than two thousand years old. Wouldn’t it be exciting to find a piece from that era?”

  “Yeah, if we could keep it.”

  “Well, the woman in Pensacola wasn’t very specific. She said that they’re only concerned if the piece has intrinsic value. She indicated the little bits we’ve found wouldn’t have to be reported.”

  In fact, the woman had been downright harried and less than helpful.

  “Let’s play it by ear,” Lisa suggested. “If we find something really neat, we can always ask about it.”

  “Okay, but I hadn’t planned to make this a full-time occupation.”

  Maura smiled down at the girl to soften her words. She needn’t have worried. When it came to her hobby, Lisa was as single-minded as any teenager.

  “You can’t quit now! Who knows what’s out there waiting for us. I bet I can do a whole term paper on this when I get back to school. My teacher will be so overwhelmed, he’ll recommend me for a scholarship to Harvard. You wouldn’t want to deny me the chance to go to Harvard, would you?”

  “Heavens, no.”

  Laughing, Maura clambered to her feet and joined Lisa for another wade in the bay. Bea gave them a long, steady look, as if wondering why any creatures in full possession of their senses would go splashing around when they could stretch out in the sun. Slowly, majestically, she laid her head back down, rolled on her side and shut the capricious humans out.

  Woman and girl shuffled happily through the shallow water for more than an hour. They didn’t find any special pieces, only a couple of small nondescript shards, but the paucity of treasures didn’t dim their high spirits.

  “You’re a lot of fun for a grown-up,” Lisa confided ingenuously when they collapsed, wet and sandy, on the bank.

  Maura felt a little glow in her heart as she looked over at the smiling teenager.

  “Almost as much fun as my dad.”

  The glow dimmed a bit.

  “Would you like to come over for a sandwich or pizza or something?”

  “I don’t think I’d better. Your father isn’t expecting guests.”

  “Dad’s got a late flight tonight. He won’t be down for hours.”

  The loneliness behind the appeal tugged at her. Maura herself came from a large, loud, boisterous family that augmented its natural numbers with dogs, cats, turtles and the occasional rodent brought home by her brothers. She tried to imagine being an only child, especially one whose parents had separated. Lisa obviously adored her father and seemed happy about her summers with him, but it had to be a lonely life for a child.

  “Okay, but only for a quick sandwich. Come on, Bea.” She scooped the boneless, lolling animal up in her arms. “We’re dining out tonight.”

  Two hours later, Maura and Lisa sat cross-legged on the polished wood floor of Jake’s living room, the remains of a large pizza and several soda cans scattered around them. Bea occupied a large leather recliner in solitary splendor, calmly licking anchovy from her mouth and paws.

  “I’m stuffed,” Lisa groaned, slumping back against the leather couch.

  “Me, too. Whose idea was it, anyway, to order a deluxe?”

  “Yours,” the girl giggled.

  “Yeah, well, it was a dumb idea. Next time it’s a small, plain cheese.”

  “I love pizza,” Lisa confided. “I never get to have it at home because Mom is always watching her weight, but Dad and I pig out during the summers.”

  Wondering idly how many deluxes it would take to fill up Jake McAllister’s tall frame, Maura sipped her soda slowly and glanced around his home. Her gaze lingered on polished wood surfaces, rich leather furniture and a high-tech entertainment center set precisely in the middle of one wall. The opposite wall was filled with windows and gave a glorious view of the sun sinking into the bay in bloodred splendor.

  Everything was so neat, so orderly. A direct contrast to the boxes still piled up in Maura’s rented cottage. She was musing over the differences when the rumble of the garage door brought Lisa’s head around.

  “That’s dad.”

  With a sense of inevitability, Maura folded the pizza carton and waited for Jake to make an appearance.

  “Hi, Daddy. You’re back early.”

  “We had to abort the flight because of a broken fuel pump,” he replied, his surprised glance taking in both his daughter and her guest. “What’s up?”

  “Maura and I went sharding this afternoon and I invited her back for supper. She didn’t want to come, but I told her you wouldn’t be home until late and I couldn’t eat a whole pizza by myself. You owe her seven dollars for my half.”

  Maura reddened slightly as she met Jake’s amused gaze. Even if Lisa hadn’t blurted it out, they both knew very well she wouldn’t have set foot in the house if she had any idea he would be there.

  “Any pizza left?” he asked, reaching down to ruffle his daughter’s hair.

  “Sorry, we didn’t save any.”

  “And it was my treat,” Maura put in, pushing to her feet. “I’d better be going before it gets too dark to find my way.”

  “I’ll drive you home,” Jake said. “Just give me a few minutes to change.”

  He crossed the room, dragging the checkered scarf from around the neck of his flight suit. Maura had to admit there wasn’t anything the least bit loose or baggy about the way the fire-retardant material clung to his wide shoulders and lean torso. Sternly repressing the memory of that lean torso mashed against hers, she swiped her hands on her shorts and reached for Bea.

  “It’s just a short way, and I really need the exercise after all that pizza.”

  “It’s too dark to walk back. Wait here.”

  The brisk tone probably had lieutenants snapping to attention but produced the opposite effect in Maura. Lips pursed, she made a face at the broad back disappearing up the wide oak staircase.

  “Yes, sir! Anything you say, sir!”

  Lisa’s giggles brought her head around.

  “Does he order you around like that, too?” she asked the girl.

  “Sometimes. But I keep my Discman on and pretend not to hear him when he gets too bossy.”

  Jake came back downstairs just as Maura and Lisa finished cleaning up their impromptu supper. He had on a short-sleeved Air Force Academy sweatshirt and a pair of athletic shorts that made Maura’s throat go dry. She couldn’t remember when she’d seen quite that much male thigh before.

  “I’ll be right back,” he told his daughter.

  Guiding Maura out through the kitchen, he led her past a low, gleaming sports car to an older Jeep Cherokee.

  “Smart move,” she commented as she climbed into the cab. “You must have guessed what Bea’s claws can do to leather seats.”

  “I saw what they did to my ankle.”

  A small silence settled between them as they drove through the winding streets of the exclusive development. Jake broke it with a glance in her direction.

  “That was an excellent briefing this morning.”

  “Thanks. I won’t tell you how nervous I was.” Idly, she stroked Bea’s fur. “Splashing around with Lisa in the bay this afternoon helped me recover. She’s a great kid, Jake.”

  “I think so, too. Did the two of you find any treasures?”

  “A few small pieces. By the way, I did some checking up this afternoon. I’m fairly certain we won’t go to jail if we keep what we’ve found so far. It becomes somewhat of a moral issue, though, if we turn up anything resembling a whole pot or bowl.”

  “You think you’ll have much time to go sharding with the Maverick project looming over you?”

  Instantly, the barriers went up. “Don’t worry, Colonel. I’ll get your precious project done. What I do in my spare time is my business.”

  Jake’s breath hissed out. “I wasn’t cha
llenging your right to some free time. I just don’t want Lisa to become a pest.”

  “Sorry,” she murmured. “Don’t worry about it. I like her, and she seems to have hooked me on this pottery business.”

  He glanced over at her and hesitated. “At the risk of putting my foot in it again, I’d like to thank you for spending time with Lisa. She hasn’t connected with any of her old friends down here this summer.”

  “She told me she met one boy,” Maura ventured, thinking to help the cause of young love. “I think she said his name was Tony.”

  “That kid’s a hood, as far as I’m concerned. He wears an earring in one ear and drives a truck with tires two stories high.”

  “I hate to be the one to break it to you, but an earring isn’t an indelible mark of delinquency these days. Most of my nephews sport at least one stud. And I think the tires have something to do with puberty rites.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” Jake said dryly as he pulled into her driveway.

  “Oh, come on. Lisa’s pretty levelheaded. Surely you don’t think she’d be overwhelmed by a set of tires?”

  “I don’t think so.” His mouth curved. “But even in my day, a dude with a slick set of wheels could get lucky in the front seat occasionally.”

  “I’ll bet! But then, they made front seats a lot larger in the old days.”

  “Back seats, too,” he agreed, switching off the ignition.

  He slewed sideways, determined to stretch out their unexpected truce a little longer. When she turned to face him, her hair brushed the hand he’d propped on her seat back. Idly, Jake burrowed his fingers in the soft, silky curtain. Not quite as idly, he stroked the soft, warm curve of her nape.

  The sudden change in the atmosphere inside the Jeep caught Maura by surprise. One minute she was laughing and more relaxed with this man than she ever thought she could be. The next his fingertips were brushing the fine hairs on her nape and sending tiny shivers down her spine.

  She knew she ought to pull away. Her hand groped blindly for the door handle. But she didn’t pull on it, and Jake didn’t stop.

  “This isn’t very smart, Colonel.”