- -
- 100%
- +
Rush walked around the table a couple of times, looking like a man trapped in a small space—or a shark circling its kill. Finally he stopped, standing directly across from her. He closed his eyes and rubbed a hand along the back of his neck as though to relieve an ache there, then paused and looked at her. “Lindy, I’m leaving.”
The words were nearly shouted. She hesitated and prayed for patience, and when that didn’t work, she counted to ten. Flippantly she raised her hand and waved goodbye. Still, he didn’t move.
“I’m twenty-two,” Lindy answered the woman’s question. “No…no you needn’t worry about that sort of thing. There isn’t anyone important in my life at the moment.” She swallowed tightly at the lie.
She exchanged a look with Rush and feared he was going to explode. “I thought you were leaving,” she whispered heatedly, cupping her hand over the mouthpiece. “Don’t let me stop you.”
“Not the apartment,” he raged, staring at her as though she were completely dense. “The Mitchell is sailing out.”
“I know…. In two weeks.”
“The catapults are being tested tomorrow and possibly Wednesday. If everything works out we’ll be gone by the beginning of next week.”
“The beginning of next week,” she echoed, hanging up the phone. She kept her hand on the receiver feeling numb with shock, numb with fear. “But you said it would be at least a month.”
“As I recall, I told you it could be as long as a month. As it happens, it’s only two, possibly three weeks.”
“Oh, Rush.” She turned to him, her eyes wide with a hundred emotions she didn’t know how to define. She’d accepted long ago that their time together was limited. But she’d counted on every minute of these remaining weeks. Needed them. Needed Rush.
“It shouldn’t come as any great surprise,” he told her, and pulled out a chair to sit across from her.
“It isn’t…. It’s just that…I don’t know.” Her stomach twisted into hard knots and for a painful moment she couldn’t breathe. She was stunned, and she felt Rush’s eyes slowly search her face. With everything in her, she met his gaze, determined to appear cool and composed. Her heart might be quivering with apprehension, but she’d die smiling before she’d allow him to know it. He’d already told her once that he didn’t want her clinging to him when he left. And she wouldn’t. She’d stand on the dock with a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye, and wave until her arm dropped off, but she’d never let him know it was killing her.
“About tonight,” he started again. “I didn’t mean any of what I said.”
He dropped his gaze, but not before Lindy saw a strange mixture of regret, desire and remorse. In the two weeks they’d been together, Lindy had thought she’d witnessed all Rush’s moods. She’d seen him at his cynical best, when he’d been purposely aloof and brash. She’d experienced his comfort, his tenderness as he held her in his arms while she sobbed against his chest. And she’d heard the music of his laughter, stood transfixed by his sometimes warm-heated, playful moods. Oh Lord, she was going to miss him. Miss everything about him.
“Lindy, I’m sorry for what I said.”
His hand reached for hers, rubbing warmth back into her chilled fingers. She shook her head, hoping that would suffice as acceptance of his apology.
They were silent for a moment, caught in the surging tide of their individual thoughts.
“I don’t have any right to ask you to wait six months for me.”
“I’ll wait,” she offered quietly. Lindy had no other choice.
“If you meet someone else…”
“Is that what you want?”
“No.” Anger flared briefly in his eyes. Then his expression changed to that cool, watchful look he wore so often. “No,” he repeated softly.
“That isn’t what you said earlier.” She tried to laugh, but the sound of her pain was carried in the mirth.
“I didn’t mean it. Not a word.”
“You don’t believe that I love you, do you?”
He waited a long time before he answered. “I don’t know. I think it’s too soon after Paul for you to know what you’re feeling.”
Lindy closed her eyes in an effort to control the urge to argue with him. She did love him, and never more than now. She’d just learned he’d be sailing out of her life for half a year, and her only thought was how she would manage without him.
She watched as a small pulse started in his temple. “I don’t want to leave you, Lindy.”
Her gaze shot to his, and her eyes widened with astonishment. Rush loved the sea. The navy was more than his career. It was his life, the very reason he got out of bed every morning. She’d listened for hours while he described for her the warm sensations that went through him when he was on the open seas. She’d felt his pride and exhilaration when he spoke of standing alone against the force of a fierce storm. He loved everything about navy life. It was his dream, just as the oceans of the world were his destiny.
And he didn’t want to leave her. What he felt for her was stronger than the lure of the sea.
Tears shimmered in her eyes and she bit hard on her lower lip to hold them at bay. Rush wouldn’t tell her he loved her—not with words. It would have been more than she could expect. But by admitting that he didn’t want to leave her, he said everything.
When Lindy had composed herself enough to look up at Rush again, she felt the tension in every line of his lovingly familiar face.
“I want you to stay at the apartment,” he said, and his hand continued to rub hers, holding her fingers in a grip that was almost painfully tight. “Steve will be back soon, but he’ll only be here a few weeks, if that long.
Lindy nodded.
“Then the place will be empty for months.”
Again she acknowledged his words with an abrupt movement of her head.
“It would be better if there was someone living here. As it is now, an empty apartment is an invitation to burglars. You’d actually be doing Steve and me a favor if you agree to say.”
“I’ll…I’ll want to start contributing toward the rent.”
“Fine. Whatever you want. When Steve arrives the two of you can work it out.”
“What about when Steve is here?” Lindy asked. “Where will I sleep?”
“He can have my room.”
“But what about when you’re both here?”
Rush frowned, and then a strange, almost humorous light entered his eyes and a soft smile crowded his face. “Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Anything else?” he asked.
She dropped her gaze to his hand, which was holding hers. “I love you, Rush, and I’m going to miss you like hell.”
He raised her hand to his lips, closed his eyes and kissed it gently.
* * *
The coffee was ready by the time Rush met Lindy in the kitchen the following morning. Although she’d been physically and mentally exhausted, she’d hardly slept, managing three, maybe four hours of rest at the most. Now her eyes burned and she felt on the verge of tears.
Rush joined her at the table. He wordlessly reached for the morning newspaper and buried his face in it, not speaking to her—apparently pretending she wasn’t there. Lindy stood it as long as she could.
“Would you like some breakfast?” she asked.
He shook his head. The stupid newspaper still presented a thin barrier between them.
Whereas Lindy had felt loved and reassured after their talk the night before, this morning she felt lonely and bereft. Rush hadn’t sailed away yet, but he might as well have for all the companionship he offered.
“I think I’ll get dressed now,” she whispered, hoping that would gain his attention.
“Fine.”
“Stop it, Rush.”
That worked, and he lowered the paper, peering at her over the top of the page, his face clean of expression. “Stop what?”
“That!” She pointed an accusing finger at the newspaper. “I hate it when you do this.”
“What hideous crime am I guilty of now?”
“You haven’t left yet…. I’d think you’d want to spend every minute you could with me…. Instead you’re hiding behind the Post-Intelligencer so you won’t have to look at me.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“I’m not. It’s almost as if you can hardly wait to get away from me.”
With deliberately slow movements he folded the newspaper and set it aside. “Is it because I didn’t want any breakfast? Is that what’s upset you so much? You know I seldom eat this early.”
“No…of course that’s not it.”
“What is it then?”
“I…don’t know.” Lindy felt like such a fool. She didn’t know why she was acting like this, but she couldn’t stand it when Rush treated her this way. She could deal with his anger far more easily than this intolerable patience.
“What exactly do you want from me, Lindy?”
“I want some emotion,” she cried.
“What?” he barked, clearly not understanding her.
“Not tears. I want you to…oh, never mind. Go back to reading your precious paper with that same stoic expression you always wear in the morning. I humbly apologize for having interrupted your reading time.”
Lindy couldn’t get to her bedroom fast enough. She took small pleasure in slamming her door. Her intention had been to dress as quickly as she could and leave the apartment. Instead she found herself sitting on the edge of her bed, trembling and teary eyed, confused and suddenly feeling, utterly, desperately alone.
When her bedroom door flew open, Lindy gasped. Rush’s gaze pinned her to the bed as he silently stalked across the room.
“Damn it, Lindy.” The words were ground out through his teeth before he sank onto the bed beside her. His arms tightened around her trembling body, pressing her down against the mattress. His hands found and cupped her breasts as he buried his face in her hair, spreading a wildfire of kisses along her cheeks and face, but avoiding her lips.
All Rush had to do was touch her and the desire curled in her belly like an anchor rope ready to plunge her into dark, inviting depths of passion.
His fingers tightened on her shoulders as he raised his head and stared down at her. He looked as though he were trying to stop himself but couldn’t. Then his mouth closed hungrily over hers, rubbing back and forth, his tongue probing hers.
Lindy’s arms found his back and she arched her spine, grinding her hips against him, needing him so desperately she could barely breathe. The longer Rush kissed her, the deeper she sank into the turbulent waters of desire. She felt like she was drowning, oblivious to everything except the primitive need to be loved by Rush.
“Oh, Lindy….” The words came out softly as he lifted his head from hers. He paused and dragged in a heavy breath, held it a moment then expelled it. “Well,” he whispered, “is that enough emotion for you?”
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.