Forgive & Forget (Love in the Fleet)

by Ashby, Heather

  Chapter 33

  The woman was back. The one with the beautiful brown eyes. Philip couldn’t see her but she was definitely back because he could hear her whispering in his ear again. “Come back to Hallie. She needs you.” At least he thought that was what she was saying. It was kind of hard to focus on her words because his head hurt like a son of a bitch.

  Maybe she had an aspirin.

  He tried to get his bearings, but he couldn’t get a fix on things. He was out of the water for sure. He felt like he’d been swimming for days on end. Maybe that’s why he was so tired. But he was definitely out of it because the water had been bathtub warm and it was sort of chilly here. He could only see fog, but not wispy fog like when he first met the woman

  No, this was different. This was like coming to in the morning with a bad hangover. Afraid to even open his eyes. Wondering just what in hell he’d done the night before.

  “Come back to us. Come back to Hallie,” the woman whispered again in his ear.

  Wait a second. Come back to Hallie? Not go back to Hallie? Come back to us? Who was us? What was going on here?

  And suddenly Philip recognized this woman’s voice as his mother’s, not the woman with the soulful brown eyes – not that his mother didn’t have soulful brown eyes. No, this wasn’t the woman who’d been in the water with him. This was his mom talking now. What was his mom doing on the ship?

  Did she have an aspirin?

  And then he realized his eyes were closed. No wonder he hadn’t been able to figure anything out. It suddenly dawned on him that his eyes had been closed through this whole weird journey. If he could just open them, he’d be able to figure out what was going on.

  And where the hell he was.

  He peeked out from under his eyelids just enough to know that it definitely was his mom talking to him, because she was sitting beside his bed. His bed? Why was he in bed and why was his mom there? He sensed, more than saw, that there was someone else there, but he couldn’t make it out. He tried to turn his head to get a better look, what with his eyes only opening to slits and his glasses gone—where were his glasses?—but his head hurt too much to turn it.

  And then the woman was leaving. Yup, as she passed the end of the bed he knew for sure it was his mom. What was his mom doing here? He wanted to call out, “Hey, Mom, you got any aspirin?” but his mouth wasn’t working quite yet. Well, beyond knowing he was mighty thirsty.

  And can I get some water with it?

  Moving only his eyeballs under the heavy lids—damn, what was holding his eyelids down?—Philip was able to take in a foot-board of some kind, some machines, and a lot of wires and tubes. One appeared to be snaking out of his nose. No wonder it itched so much. Now he understood what all the mechanical beeping had been about. This was some kind of hospital room. Sick Bay on the Blanchard? But it was definitely a hospital-type place and he was in some kind of bed so he must be sick or hurt or something.

  And then he remembered some kind of explosion.

  Whatever had happened, he realized he was gazing at a beautiful sight.

  His feet. Both of them seemed to be there. He wiggled his toes under the sheet just to be sure. And then flexed his fingers. Yup. Two hands reporting as ordered, sir. All extremities present and accounted for. That was always a good sign. So maybe he’d just hit his head or something, because it hurt like…Wait a minute. Good. If he was in a hospital, it meant he hadn’t gotten drunk last night and done something stupid. Whew.

  And then he heard another familiar voice in the room—or wherever he was. It was definitely his dad. Uh oh. If his dad was on the ship, he’d probably tell them how to run it.

  And then his dad said something that connected all the dots.

  “…nut job in CDC…”

  Oh, shit. OS2 Davis in CDC had a gun to Petty Officer McCabe’s head.

  Philip’s heart kicked into high gear. His body screamed for him to get to Combat and save Hallie, but he couldn’t seem to move a muscle. He had to tell his dad to go save her. But his mouth wouldn’t work.

  “He told me everything,” his dad continued. “Margaret, you can’t believe what this young lady did.”

  “Sir, I only…”

  Hallie?

  What was Hallie doing in Sick Bay? Everyone on the ship would know about them if Hallie was here with him. But wait. If she was here, then she was okay.

  Relief flooded his body. He summoned all his strength and managed to turn his head ever so slightly and…there she was.

  Hallie.

  His Hallie.

  Hallie was alive.

  Relief pumped from his bloodstream into his soul.

  He could only see her back as his dad hugged her. Wait, his dad was hugging Hallie? And thanking her. Thanking her for saving his son. This show was way too good to miss and Philip willed his eyes to open wider. Yup, there was his mom, watching them and smiling. And now hugging both of them.

  “I apologize for being rude to you, Hallie. Please forgive me. I was tired and frustrated and I didn’t understand why you were here, but that’s no excuse. Why didn’t you tell me what you’d done to save the ship? You could have shut me up but fast.”

  “Because Philip is more important, sir.”

  Captain Johnston sighed and turned to his wife. “Isn’t she something, Margaret? Honey, we missed it all while we were traveling.” His dad stood back and whipped out a newspaper to show his mom. “The CO of the hospital gave me the Stars and Stripes. Look at this story that just broke this morning…”

  So he was in some kind of hospital. Probably in Bahrain or Kuwait. But he was off the ship. That’s why his dad and mom were here. But how did Hallie get here? And what happened to the ship? Were his men—and Trixie—okay?

  “See right here. ‘Sailor Saves Ship.’ She practically did it single-handedly. Okay, the aircraft did their thing too, but Hallie’s the one who alerted them. She was taken hostage, but managed to alert Public Affairs through her camera. Everyone on the ship knew what was going on, but OS2 Davis in Combat didn’t know they knew. So they went to General Quarters via the phones and TVs and computers.”

  Philip’s brain was on fire now. Come on, Dad, did they get the dhows? And how did Hallie get away from Davis?

  “And the aircraft took out the fishing boats and Hallie took out the nut job.”

  Thank God!

  “Sir, I really don’t want to talk about it now. Especially in here.”

  “But you shot him, right? You killed Davis. And then they de-fused the bomb, right?”

  Hesitantly, Hallie answered, “I did.”

  Hallie shot him?

  Hallie killed Davis?

  Hallie?

  “Oh, honey,” Philip’s mother said as she embraced her.

  “I had to. He was going to blow up the ship.”

  She’s apologizing?

  “Of course you had to, sweetie,” his mom said as she rocked Hallie from side to side. “But this can’t be easy for you. My goodness, you’ve lived through a nightmare.”

  Doug Johnston was back in the game. “But I still don’t understand how you got to leave the ship and come here with our son to Germany.”

  Aha. They were in Germany.

  “I’d really rather not go into that right now, so let’s just say the CO thought it best if I accompanied Philip here.”

  “You mean he knew about you two? When I was in the Navy, fraternization was considered—”

  “Doug, not now.”

  Yup, that was his mom, all right.

  But Philip knew how Hallie had gotten here. She’d probably played her paternity card and threatened to expose the Captain if he didn’t let her go with him.

  He would have laughed if he could. That was his Hallie. He wondered if the CO had reneged on h
is promise not to tell her he knew he was her father. It didn’t really matter anymore. Guess it worked out for her if she was here. All Philip knew was he was damn glad she was here.

  Philip wished that he could get his hands on Hallie to make sure she was all in one piece, but all that seemed to be working were his eyelids, and they had sandbags or something on them.

  “They’re calling her a McHero. I mean she saved the entire ship, Margaret. Our little Hallie saved that ship and everyone on it. And she saved our son’s life.” Captain Johnston joined the hug and murmured, “Thank you, Hallie. God bless you, darling.”

  Again, Philip wished he could laugh. His dad in a group hug?

  Whoa. Wait a minute. Was his dad crying? Spurs Johnston? Crying?

  No way.

  It was definitely time to intervene and join the party.

  Philip reached down into the marrow of his bones for the strength to nudge the words off his tongue and push them out into the room. He was certain they’d be slurred. He just hoped they’d be loud enough.

  “…mom was right…daughter with balls…s’my girl.”

  The three turned as one. Although Philip’s eyelids were still at half-mast, his cracked lips had curved into a gentle smile.

  His mom spoke first. “Philip?”

  “Yeah, Mom…hey…you got any asp’rn?”

  His dad took care of alerting the staff while his mother moved to the end of the bed, allowing Hallie first dibs on face time and kisses.

  “Mmmm,” Philip murmured, “…feel better already. Give me some more of that med’cine, wud’ja honey?” She kissed him again. Oh, good. It seemed all his bodily functions were in working order.

  “Hey, Cowboy. I missed you. Where you been?”

  “Pretty sure I have been to hell and back, but sounds like you did, too. Way to go. You kicked some major ass. Not surprised. Nothing you do s’prises me.” His mouth curved up. “I think I’ll stick around and see what you pull out of your seabag next. First give me another one of those kisses.”

  He saw his dad return to his mom’s side at the foot of the bed. And just as Philip closed his eyes for Hallie’s kiss, he watched his dad put an arm around his mother and heard him say, “You see, Margaret, like I always told you: ‘Every man in a foxhole needs a good woman to come back to.’”

  About Heather Ashby

  Heather Ashby is a Navy veteran, whose mother was one of the original Navy WAVES in World War II. After leaving the service, Heather taught school and raised a family while accompanying her Navy husband around the United States, Japan, and the Middle East.

  In gratitude for her son’s safe return from Afghanistan and Iraq, she now writes military romance novels, donating half her royalties to benefit wounded warriors and their families. She lives in Atlantic Beach, Florida with her retired Naval Engineer husband. Reach Heather at www.heatherashby.com.

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