“No, sir.” Dalton grinned affably. “We was happy as a hog in a mud wallow up there. Matter of fact, I did so well, I went and did it twice.”
“No problems?” Vic pressed.
“Nope.” Phil looked over at Molly and winked. “The lady knows how to call ’em.”
“Bull!” Martin exploded.
“Sit down, Mr. Martin,” Cam growled, nailing him with a lethal glare.
“But, that’s not fair! Dalton flew the same test I did! Since when does a flight-engineer student get to repeat a test? If they screw up the first time, you mean they get a second chance?”
Vic’s mouth tightened.
“Martin,” Phil drawled, “if brains was dynamite, you wouldn’t have ’nuf to blow through your nose. Read between the lines, buddy. Molly’s test was a good one. Of course, she had the best damn test-pilot student here to fly it with her.”
Cam sat back, hiding a smile. Martin was flushed and angry. Molly was looking at Dalton as if he’d said the most beautiful words she’d ever heard spoken. He shifted his glance back to Vic, who was grim.
“This isn’t fair!” Martin protested violently, remaining seated.
“That’s enough, Lieutenant,” Vic ordered tightly.
“I was set up.”
Phil laughed outright. “Come on, Martin! You’d complain if you was hanged with a new rope, wouldn’t you? From the way I see it, you got a good grade flying this exact test last Friday. What are you bellyachin’ about?”
Molly tried hard not to smile. Phil Dalton, in her opinion, was a knight in shining armor in the debrief room. His soft Missouri drawl effectively shattered the tension every time Martin tried to escalate the situation. She risked a glance at Cam. His eyes were shining with laughter. Bowing her head because she was afraid she was going to laugh outright, Molly busily took the test out of the folder, placed it on the table and read it out loud.
When the debrief was completed, Molly got a chance to look at her score. Norton had awarded her an eighty percent. She grinned broadly, passing the board to Phil, who had been given a ninety-eight percent. The good-looking pilot gave her a loose grin and then winked.
“Nice going, Molly.”
“Ditto, Phil.”
She could hardly wait to get out of debrief. Somehow, Molly wanted to pull Cam aside and thank him. Yet, if she did it here, at TPS, it might give the wrong impression. Would Cam walk Miracle on the beach this evening?
* * *
Molly stood on the beach, shifting from one foot to the other. She had gone home, changed into a pair of comfortable tan shorts and a white blouse. Her pale yellow beach towel contained a sack dinner, a couple of textbooks and a notepad. It was 1900; the sun was low on the horizon. Where were Cam and Miracle? Going back to her towel, Molly sat down and decided to eat.
She tried to still her excitement. As she sat cross-legged eating her first sandwich, she heard the bark of a dog. Was it Miracle? Before Molly could get up, the black Lab burst between the sand dunes, galloping eagerly toward her.
Laughing, Molly got up just in time. The Lab wagged her tail furiously and nuzzled Molly’s hand. Molly’s heart accelerated as she lifted her head. Cam Sinclair looked devastatingly handsome in a pair of well-worn cutoffs, his feet bare, a green polo shirt revealing the powerful breadth of his chest and shoulders.
“Hi,” she ventured, patting Miracle’s head.
Cam nodded and walked toward her. The happiness in Molly’s eyes made his heart hammer hard in his chest. She looked joyous, her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, tendrils at each temple. Out of the baggy flight uniform, Cam decided, Molly looked tempting as hell. She was tall and slender—like a willow, perhaps.
“Miracle knew you were here,” he said, coming to a halt a few feet from her beach towel. Cam noted the textbooks she’d brought along.
“Oh?”
“She must have picked up your scent the minute I let her out of the car. She took off from the parking lot half a mile from here and made a beeline in this direction. I figured she’d spotted a snipe or a gull.”
Molly laughed, fondly rubbing Miracle’s silky ears. “Call me Big Bird.”
A smile barely touched his mouth. “You came out here to meet us?”
“Yes.” Molly felt heat in her face as she held his penetrating gaze. “I just wanted to thank you properly for all your help, Cam. I didn’t think it would be wise to go into your office after debrief and do that. Martin was really upset.”
“He lives to be upset,” Cam said dryly. “You’re right, though. If he’d seen you in my office, all hell would have broken loose.”
Molly gestured to her towel. “Come and sit down. I was in the middle of finishing my supper. I’ve got another roast-beef sandwich left. Want it?”
“No…thanks.”
Miracle promptly went over and sat next to Molly.
“I even brought Miracle a doggy bone.” She dug in her knapsack, holding up the plastic bag that contained several small dog treats. “May I?”
“Sure. She’ll be your friend for life.” Touched by her thoughtfulness, Cam sauntered over and sat down on the other end of the towel. It would be poor manners to remain standing, and even poorer manners to refuse the dog bones for Miracle. Just being around Molly on a one-to-one basis made Cam yearn to be with her.
“I didn’t know another way to meet and thank you,” Molly explained, feeding Miracle one small bone after another until they’d disappeared.
Cam brought his legs up, wrapping his arms around them. Molly sat with Miracle stretched out beside her. “I like your creative tactics,” he congratulated. He was happy to see the contented look on her face. “It’s Friday night. I thought a single, good-looking lady would be out with her ‘significant other.’”
Rolling her eyes, Molly said, “I don’t have time for a significant other.”
For some reason that pleased Cam. Actually, he felt a huge flood of relief flow through him. “Yeah, you’ve got a lot of other pressures on you right now.”
“Just TPS.”
“What about your family?”
She shrugged. “I never looked at it that way.”
Cam wished she would. “Well, at least when your father calls this Saturday, you’ll have good news for him. Vic gave you a good grade, but you deserved it.”
“Thanks.” Molly flushed and avoided his eyes. She was glad Miracle was there to pat; otherwise she wouldn’t know what to do with her hands. A sweet kind of nervousness always sizzled through her when she was with Cam. The bay breeze had mussed his short black hair, making a few strands fall over his brow. He looked approachable, almost human right now.
“This afternoon, I felt like jumping up and down for joy.” She grinned. “Strictly a kid’s reaction. But when Phil came to my defense and cut Martin down to size, I thought it was wonderful. I shouldn’t take such pleasure in Martin getting his just deserts.”
“I would. I thought you were going to smile in there.”
“I ducked my head and put my hand over my mouth so Martin couldn’t see me do it.”
Chuckling, Cam nodded. “Yeah, I noticed.”
“You don’t miss much, do you?”
“Not usually.”
Molly turned toward him, the dusky light softening the lines of his face. There were crow’s feet at the outer corners of his eyes, and they deepened when he laughed. “After our conversation the other night, I walked away realizing I know absolutely nothing about you, Cam.”
“Not much to tell.”
“Where were you born?”
“Billings, Montana. I was a city kid. My dad is a printer and typesetter. He owns his own business in the downtown area.”
“And your mother?”
“She raised three of us. I’ve got two younger sisters. One is married and has a baby. Carrie, the youngest, is seriously thinking of a career in the military.”
“You wouldn’t object?”
Cam shrugged. “No. She’s got the personality
for it.”
“Oh?”
“She’s a strong, confident girl.”
“Not a cream puff?”
Cam shrugged. “I said you were a cream puff with a steel backbone. You just have to discover it, that’s all.”
“So, where do cream puffs fit into life’s big picture?” Molly wondered aloud, interested in how he saw her.
“They make great mothers,” he said, and then realized his gaffe. “That was not a chauvinistic comment, Molly, so get that look off your face. It’s just that—” he stumbled “—a woman like you has such warmth and sincerity about her, it seems wasted in the military, which doesn’t value those things and thrives on their exact opposite.”
She digested his comment. “I think you can be low-key, diplomatic and ‘soft,’ to use your word, and still work effectively in the military.”
“Not without a lot of personal heartache and injury, Molly.”
“Things are looking up for me at TPS. I’m excited about my next flight test. I’m sure I’m over the hump. Lieutenant Norton seems more interested in what I’m doing, now that I proved my other flight program wasn’t a dud.”
Cam didn’t have the heart to break the hope he saw in her eyes and heard in her voice. God, what he’d give to simply lean over and capture that mouth of hers beneath his. Every time he was around her, she stirred the fires within him he thought had died so long ago.
“Well,” he said, rising, “you’ve got nowhere to go but up. I’ve got work to do for class next Monday, so I’d better get going.” He hoped it didn’t sound like a lie, because it wasn’t. It was a poor excuse, though, for leaving Molly’s company. To be honest, Cam wanted to stay; but if he did, talk would quickly be replaced by touching, kissing and then— He called Miracle to his side. The Lab bounded up and wagged her tail.
“I’m glad we got to talk,” Molly told him. How ruggedly built Cam was, his lean frame tight with muscle, his posture expressing the confidence that emanated from him like sunlight.
“Me, too. See you next Monday.”
After Cam and Miracle disappeared over the dune, Molly reluctantly returned to her books. He was so shy and hesitant with her. Why? The information she’d dragged out of him had been just that—dragged. Closing the book, Molly looked out at the calm waters of the bay. Gulls floated effortlessly above it, and a few paddled on the surface. There was something touchingly vulnerable about Cam, despite his fierce looks and hard expression. This evening, he’d smiled more readily. He’d even laughed, and the sound had gone through her like a song. Cam Sinclair was an enigma, Molly decided.
“Enough daydreaming,” she told herself sternly, opening the textbook. At least she didn’t have to dread this weekend. Her father would be pleased with her grade.
* * *
“Only an eighty, Molly? That isn’t going to raise your average by much.”
Frustrated, Molly changed position on the couch, the phone against her shoulder. “Father, it’s very good! I’m going to be able to turn things around.”
“I think you’re getting overly optimistic.”
“An eighty is better than my last two grades. Besides, Cam was the one who gave me support on my idea to rerun the same test with a different pilot.”
“Who’s this Cam fellow?”
“He’s a test-pilot instructor here at the facility.”
“But you’re a flight-test engineer. Aren’t you supposed to be working with your assigned instructor? He certainly can’t be it.”
“Father, he’s been here for two years and is savvy about how the school runs. His support means a lot to me.”
“Well, don’t put all your eggs in one basket, Molly. He could turn on you.”
Molly laughed. “Not Cam. No, he’s as steady as the sun rising and setting.”
“Your idealism about people scares me. Particularly the way you see men. At least twice at Annapolis you had your heart broken by some boy.”
“They were men, Father, not boys. And I’m not a little girl anymore, either. Each of the men I met gave me something good, and I learned something about myself from the experience. I don’t consider it bad just because we broke up.”
“Just stick to the business at hand, Molly. You can’t afford to get romantically involved with anyone at TPS. It’s going to take everything you’ve got to make it through. A relationship would pull your focus.”
“Father, there’s no man in my life, okay?”
“What about this Cam?”
“I told you. He’s a friend, that’s all.”
“Well, Scott wants to talk to you now. I’m sure he’s going to enjoy hearing how you turned the tables on Martin. And, Molly, I expect an even higher grade next week.”
Molly nodded. “I’ll try my best, Father.” She was eager for Monday to come. A new happiness bubbled within her as her father handed the phone over to Scott. Although she talked to her brother, her heart centered on Cam. Did he realize how much he’d done to help her? She didn’t think so. An idea came to mind, and Molly smiled. Monday, she would have a pleasant surprise for everyone at TPS. In reality it was her way of thanking Cam, but no one would realize it.
* * *
“What’s this?” Vic Norton grinned broadly at the huge plate of cookies next to the coffee urn Monday morning.
Cam had just entered the room along with Phil Dalton. “Hey, what have you got there?”
“Look at this, Cam. Chocolate-chip cookies. My favorite.”
“Mmm, Lordy! Those look scrumptious,” Dalton said, grabbing a handful.
“Wonder who brought them?”
“Somebody with a heart and soul.” Dalton sighed, munching contentedly.
Cam politely took two, leaving enough for everyone else. Norton and Dalton were sitting around the cookies like two big guard dogs, with looks on their faces that dared anyone else to try and reach for one. “Well, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I’ve got work to do. Don’t get a bellyache.”
Norton tittered. “Wouldn’t think of it, Sinclair.”
Cam made his way down the hall, now active with students coming in for the first class, and ducked into his office. The door was open already, which was normal. What wasn’t normal was the small plate of cookies wrapped in plastic on his desk. He closed the door and set his mug down. Coming around behind the desk, Cam spotted a small envelope with his name flourished across it.
The chair squeaked in protest as he sat down and leaned back, the pristine white envelope in hand. He opened it and read the note, which said: “Thank you. Molly.” Cam raised his eyebrows, looking at the plate of cookies.
“You’re something else, Molly Rutledge. Something else…” He grabbed the plate. So, she was the one who’d baked those cookies for everyone. Cam smiled. The warmth in his chest expanded as he lifted the wrap, the odor of the cookies filling his nostrils. God, how he’d missed home cooking. Judging from her cookies, Cam would bet his right arm that Molly was one fine cook.
As he sat munching a cookie, savoring it, Cam reflected back on the past year. In some way, Molly’s appearance had awakened him from the deep freeze his emotions had been stuck in. Meeting her on the beach Friday night had been a surprise. An endearing surprise. On Sunday, when he’d taken Miracle for a walk, he’d looked for Molly, but she hadn’t been there. A terrible kind of loneliness had stalked him the rest of the day, and he’d been unable to shake it off.
He took another bite of cookie. “You truly are an angel from heaven, Molly.”
* * *
Cam entered a filling classroom several hours later to give his lecture and overheard Martin speaking.
“Hey, Bard, who made these cookies?”
Lee was stretched out, books open on his desk. “Molly made them.”
Cam was standing at the lectern, arranging his notes, when Martin got up and threw the cookie he’d been holding into the wastebasket at the front of the class.
“You got a problem, Martin?”
“I just got rid of i
t.”
Cam held Martin’s narrowed gray gaze. The pilot’s chin was solid, his teeth clenched. “See me in my office after lunch.”
“Yes, sir.”
Though angry, Cam made sure his face and voice didn’t relay his personal feelings. Martin might dislike Molly, but to openly show that kind of disrespect, not to mention wasting a homemade cookie, was unforgivable. Especially in front of twenty other students. He was glad Molly hadn’t arrived in time to see Martin’s reaction.
* * *
Martin showed up at Cam’s office at exactly 1300. Cam invited the pilot in, ordering him to shut the door.
Martin came to parade rest in front of Cam’s desk. Cam held the pilot’s fixed gaze.
“What’s your problem with Ensign Rutledge?”
“She’s a woman, sir. An incapable, bumbling woman.”
“Oh?” The word came out silkily, with a lethal edge to it.
“On both flights she’s been assigned to me, she drops the damn pencil, the knee pad and God knows what else before a test. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“She’s not incapable.” Cam recalled the library incident with Molly. When nervous, she dropped things and ran into things. He was sure she’d be very nervous flying with Martin, who obviously disliked her.
“We disagree, sir.”
“Look, Martin, you’re going to have to put aside your personal prejudice and try to get along. Surely this isn’t the first time you’ve run into a situation involving working with a person you didn’t like. You have to make it work.”
“Is this little talk all because I threw her damn cookie into the wastebasket?”
Cam shook his head. “Just the straw that broke the camel’s back, Mr. Martin. What has you so set against a woman in our business?”
“Where I come from down in Texas, women are good for one thing, and that’s flat on their back.”
“Real redneck, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir. I am. And I don’t make no bones about it. Usually, I can keep my personal opinions out of my career because there are very few broads involved with it. I can’t help it if Rutledge managed to get here on her back.”
Cam’s hand tightened on the arm of his leather chair. He stood slowly. “Martin, let me make it real clear to you—back off and start treating Ensign Rutledge with respect. I will not tolerate your attitude, nor will the commandant, if this gets to his attention. Do you read me loud and clear?”
The Gauntlet Page 8
