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* * *
They caught the nine o’clock ferry back to Seattle. Jeff dropped them off at the terminal and after Susan and Lindy had shared hugs and Lindy had kissed the boys goodbye, Lindy and Rush walked onto the waiting boat.
Although he shouldn’t have been, Rush was astonished at the way Lindy and Susan had become such fast friends. The two had talked and laughed as if they’d known each other since childhood. Now that he thought about it, the two women were quite a bit alike. Both were intelligent, sensitive and personable. And both were in love with navy men. It took a special breed of woman to fit into the military life-style, to accept the long separations, brief reunions and the fact that family must always come second in their husbands’ lives.
Both Lindy and he had come away from the evening refreshed. Jeff had given definition to the unknown emotions Rush had been dealing with the past two days. Rush had asked his friend how he managed to leave Susan and the twins and not look back—and had witnessed the instant flash of regret that shot into his friend’s eyes. Jeff had explained that the last days before he sailed were always the worst. He didn’t want to leave Susan, didn’t want to think of not being able to love her for months on end. Nor did he like to think about all that he was missing in his children’s lives. He’d been at sea when their first teeth had come in, and on sea trials when they’d taken their first steps. Now he’d be leaving them again, and his mind was crowded with everything he wasn’t going to be there to experience.
Then Jeff had asked Rush if he’d had a fight with Lindy recently. Rush’s astonishment must have shown because Jeff had laughed and said the same thing happened to him and Susan every time he found out when he’d be sailing. Like clockwork. His fault, usually. But he and Susan had made a promise to each other long ago. No matter what they fought about, they never left anything unsettled between them.
“I’m going to stand outside,” Lindy said, cutting into Rush’s thoughts. The ferry had been underway for about twenty minutes. She stood and buttoned her sweater before heading for the weather deck.
“Sure. Go ahead,” Rush answered. He didn’t mind the long ride to and from the shipyard each day. Most of the navy personnel lived in Kitsap County, across Puget Sound from Seattle. But Rush preferred the cultural advantages of living in a big city.
Rush watched as Lindy moved outside the passenger area and stood against the stern, her hands on the rail. The wind whipped the hair from her face and plastered her thin sweater against her soft curves.
Just watching Lindy, Rush felt his heart constrict. When she’d been holding Timmy and Tommy, laughing with them, bouncing the twins on her hips, Rush hadn’t been able to tear his gaze away from her. The earth could have opened up and swallowed him whole and he swore he wouldn’t have been aware of it.
Seeing her with those two babies had been the most powerful, most emotional moment of his life. The sudden overwhelming physical desire for her was like a knife slicing into his skin and scraping against a bone—it had gone that deep. Not once, not even with Cheryl had he thought about children. He enjoyed Jeff’s sons. They were cute little rascals, but seeing Lindy with those babies had created a need so strong in him he doubted that his life would ever be the same again. He wanted a child. Son or daughter, he didn’t care. What did matter was that Lindy be their mother.
Even now, hours later, his eyes couldn’t get enough of her as she stood, braced against the wind. He thought about her belly swollen with his seed, her breasts full and heavy, and the desire that stabbed through him was like hot needles. The sensation curled into a tight ball in the center of his abdomen. He’d longed for her physically before now. The thought of making love to her had dominated his thoughts from the first morning he’d stumbled upon her in the bathroom wearing those sexy see-through baby-doll pajamas.
But the physical desire he was experiencing now far exceeded anything he’d previously known. And it was different in ways he couldn’t even begin to explain.
Unable to stay parted from her a minute longer, Rush left his seat and stepped outside, joining her at the railing.
Wordlessly he slipped his arm over her shoulder. Lindy looked up at him, and her eyes were unusually dark and solemn. The effort it cost her to smile was revealed in the feeble movement of her mouth.
“Lindy?”
She pressed her index finger across his lips the way she did when she didn’t want there to be questions between them. Although she strove valiantly to prevent them, tears filled her sweet, adoring gaze. Inhaling a wobbly breath, she pressed her forehead against his chest in a vain attempt to compose herself.
Rush wrapped his arms around her, needing to comfort her, feeling strangely lost as to what to say or do, and not completely understanding what was wrong. Her lithe frame molded against him and he reveled in the feel of her softness pressed to him. “Honey, what is it?”
She shook her head. “Susan said…”
“She offend you?” Rush couldn’t imagine it, and yet the anger rose in him instantly.
Lindy swiftly jerked her head from side to side. “No…no, of course not.” Her arms were around his middle now, her eyes as dry as she could make them. But her chin quivered with the effort.
She lifted a hand and touched the side of his face, her eyes full of such tenderness that it was all Rush could do to meet her gaze.
“Do you remember the night we met?”
He grinned. “I’m not likely to forget it. I nearly tossed you into the street.”
“You were perfectly horrible. So uncompromising…so unreadable.”
“So arrogant,” he added, regretting every harsh word he’d ever said to her.
The corner of her mouth quirked with a swift smile. “A good dose of healthy arrogance to put me in my place as I recall.”
He brushed the hair from her face and nodded, resisting kissing her, although it was difficult.
“I disliked you so much…. I actually looked forward to thwarting you. I could hardly wait for you to leave. And now…now I dread it. I wish I could be more like Susan. She’s so brave.”
“She’s had far more experience at this than you.” Rush searched her face, and under his scrutiny the normally cool, composed features began to quiver with unspoken anguish. He understood then. She was afraid, almost desperately so, and bravely holding it all inside. Pierced to the quick by his own thoughtlessness, he tightened his grip on her and breathed in the sweet flowery fragrance of her silky dark hair.
“Honey, nothing’s going to happen to me.”
“But…the gunboats…the missiles.”
“I’m coming back to you, Lindy.”
She brushed her hands down her cheeks to wipe away the sheen of tears. “You think I’m being silly and emotional, don’t you? This isn’t wartime, and nothing is likely to happen, but I can’t help thinking…”
He took her by the shoulders then, gripping her tightly. “No,” he said sternly, his heart filling with a mixture of concern, tenderness and understanding. His mind groped for the words to comfort her. “You’re not overreacting. It is going to be dangerous; I’m not trying to whitewash our assignment. But, Lindy, my sweet Lindy, I’ve never had anything more to live for than I do right this minute.”
“You’d better come back to me, Rush Callaghan.” She said it as though it were a fierce threat and the consequences would be dire if he didn’t.
Death was the only thing that would keep him from Lindy. Unless…The thought was as crippling to him as the fear of him dying was to Lindy. “Then you’d better be waiting for me.”
Her sturdy gaze held his and his hands slid from their grip on her shoulder to stroke her slim, swan-like neck.
“You still don’t trust my love, do you?” she asked, looking sad and disappointed.
“Yes,” he answered, nodding his head for emphasis. “I believe you.” He wasn’t sure he should—she was so young, so susceptible—but God help him, he needed everything Lindy was so generously offering him.
He took her hand and brushed his lips over her palm and then, because he couldn’t resist and didn’t give a tinker’s damn who was watching, he kissed her mouth.
* * *
It was ten by the time the Yakima docked in Seattle. The hike to the apartment was a steep climb, but the night was so gorgeous that Lindy didn’t want to hurry home. Every minute left was precious and wasting even a single one would be a crime.
“Let’s go to the park,” she suggested.
Rush looked bewildered for a moment, and asked, “What park?”
“The one here on the waterfront.”
“Whatever for?”
Lindy laughed and slapped her hand noisily against her side. “So much for romance.”
“Romance?”
“Come on, Rush. I’m finished crying. When you sail off into the sunset, I’ll be there wearing a smile. All I ask is for you to humor me a little before you go. If that means taking a short detour to look at the stars from Waterfront Park, I think you should at least be willing.”
“Lindy—” he said her name on the tail end of a sigh “—you’ve got to get up and go to work in the morning.”
She thought for a moment he might refuse her, but he didn’t. He slipped his arm around her waist and guided her in the direction of the park.
They climbed the stairs to the second level and stood at the railing, overlooking the quiet green water. The lights from Harbor Island and West Seattle flickered like moonbeams dancing in the distance.
Lindy folded her hands over the cold steel rail, Rush behind her, his chin resting on the crown of her head. “Remember the last time we were here?” Lindy asked, thinking of their wild race up the stairs and the joy she’d experienced in having bested him.
“Yes.” Rush’s low voice carried a frown.
Lindy twisted around and gazed up at him. “Why do you say it like that?”
“You called me Paul. Remember?”
It took her a second to recall that and all that had happened afterward. “Was that really such a short time ago?” It felt like years instead of just a few weeks.
“Yes.” His brow pleated with a grim look.
“No wonder you think I can’t possibly know my own heart,” she whispered, a little desperately. “No wonder you’ve never told me how you feel.”
His brows lowered even more, shadowing his face as though he’d realized he’d never said it. “I love you, Lindy.”
She closed her eyes and let the words rain down over her heart like velvety smooth flower petals, relishing each one, holding them close so she would have them later when she needed them. “I know,” she whispered, the tears back in her voice. “I just wanted to hear you say it one time before you left.”
Chapter 9
“Lindy?” Rush dropped his hands from her shoulders. His mind was buzzing, as active as any hive. He felt weak from her touch, weak from the effect of her tears, weak with a desperate need to hold her and make her his own. He’d loved unwisely before, and had given up the dream of ever finding happiness again. And then Lindy, his sweet beautiful Lindy, had slammed into his life, and Rush knew he would never be the same again. His heart felt as if it would burst as he pulled her closer, breathing in the perfumed scent that was hers alone.
“Yes?”
Rush couldn’t believe the thoughts that were bouncing around in his mind like Mexican jumping beans. Nothing seemed to keep them still. He loved Lindy. He desired her in a way that went miles beyond the physical. Her courage, her honesty, her spirit—each had shattered every defense he’d managed to erect over the years. From the moment they’d met, she’d played havoc with his heart.
“Rush?” She was staring up at him with wide, inquiring eyes.
“I think we should get married.” There. It was out. He watched as the surprise worked its way over her features, touching her eyes first, narrowing them as though she wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. Then the excitement and happiness broke out and glowed from every part of her, followed almost immediately by swift tears that brimmed in her clear, brown eyes. When her teeth bit into her lower lip, Rush wasn’t sure what to think. She tossed her arms around him, and Rush felt the shiver work through her despite the warmth of the June evening.
“Yes, I’ll marry you.” Her answer was issued in a small voice that pitched and faltered like a boat bobbing in a storm at sea. “When?”
“We’ll buy the ring tomorrow.”
She nodded, her eyes bright and eager. “I’ll arrange to take off early enough so we can get to the courthouse before it closes.”
“The courthouse?”
“For the license.” She cast him a stern look that convinced him she would make a wonderful mother.
Once he understood the implication, Rush frowned, unsure how to proceed. “But I don’t want to get married now.”
The happiness that had been shining from her face faded, then vanished completely to be replaced by a stunned, hurt look.
“I see,” she whispered, and took a step back, away from him. “You want us to wait six months until you return from this tour?”
It made a hell of a lot of sense to Rush, and when he spoke his voice was soft yet inexorable. “Of course.”
“I see.”
“Would you quit saying that like I’d just suggested we live in sin?”
Rush could tell that she was struggling to compose her thoughts. Confusion and another emotion he couldn’t define tightened her brow, and she looked to be on the verge of breaking into tears—but these weren’t tears of sudden happiness.
“I need to think,” she announced, stiffly turning away from him and hurrying down the concrete stairs.
Rush, watching her run away from him like a frightened doe, held up his hands in a gesture of utter bewilderment. They couldn’t get married so soon. For God’s sake, they’d known each other less than three weeks.
* * *
Lindy walked as fast as her legs would carry her, and her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it all the way to her toes. She was a little embarrassed, because she’d assumed that Rush meant for them to marry right away, and she was troubled, too. She didn’t want to wait, and she couldn’t think of a way of explaining to Rush all the strong and conflicting emotions that were churning inside her.
Within a matter of seconds, Rush’s quick-paced steps joined hers.
“For God’s sake will you tell me what you find so damn insulting?” he demanded.
Lindy stopped and looked up at him, loving him so much her heart threatened to burst. His eyes seemed unusually dark and, as always, unreadable as he buried his thoughts and his pain deep within himself.
“Insulting? Oh Rush,” she whispered contritely, “never that.”
“Then why did you take off like a bat out of hell?”
She dropped her gaze to the sidewalk. “I don’t want to wait…. When you leave Saturday I want to be…”
“Lindy, that’s crazy.”
“…your wife,” she finished.
Rush’s jaw clamped shut, and Lindy saw the muscles in his lean cheek jerk as a hodgepodge of doubts clouded his mind. She didn’t blame him, but if he was willing to make a commitment to her now, it seemed fruitless to wait six months.
“I’ve been through one long engagement,” she whispered fiercely. “I have no desire for another. I’ll marry you, Rush, and consider myself the luckiest woman alive. But when you place a ring on my finger there will be two, not one.”
“Do you realize how ridiculous you sound?”
She watched him intently, her eyes riveted to his. “Yes, I suppose I do, from your point of view.”
“In other words, it’s all or nothing?”
“No,” she answered softly. “I’d marry you tonight if I could, or six months from now if that’s what you choose. But if you love me enough to want me as your wife then why should we wait? That’s what I don’t understand.”
His eyes hardened. “But you might regret…”
“No,” she cut in, shaking her head so hard her hair whipped across her face. “I swear to you I’m not going to regret it.”
Rush inhaled and cast an imploring look to the dark sky as though seeking guidance, and if not that, then divine intervention.
“I don’t even want to discuss it.”
“Fine,” Lindy said with a sigh.
The remainder of the walk was completed in silence. When Rush unlocked the apartment door, Lindy stepped inside, intent on going to her bedroom to give them both space and time to think matters through.
Rush’s hand reached for hers, stopping her before she’d gone more than a few steps.
Surprised, she glanced up at him, the light so dim she could barely make out his features.
“It’s not right to hurry this when we’ve only begun to know each other,” he said in a tone that was low, husky and deliberately expressionless.
Gently Lindy brushed her fingertips across the taut line of his jaw. “I’m not going to repent at leisure, if that’s what you’re worrying about. You seem to find it so important that we wait, so we will. But I love you enough right now. I don’t have a single doubt that our marrying is the right thing, and nothing is going to change my mind.”
“Lindy, it’s crazy.”
“Marry me now, Rush.”
He shook his head. “Six months is soon enough. You need…”
“Me? You’re the one who seems to be having all the doubts.”
“I’ll marry you in six months, Lindy,” he said sternly.
Maybe, her mind tossed back. Maybe he would.
Rush studied her for a full minute. “I want you to wear my engagement ring.
The ring finger on her left hand remained dented from the year in which she’d worn Paul’s diamond. Unconsciously she rubbed her thumb back and forth over the groove now, reliving anew the desolation that engagement had brought her. The emotion rippled in her chest, each wave growing broader in its scope. She didn’t want to be Rush’s fiancée—she’d been Paul’s for so long. She’d lost Paul and she could lose Rush, too, in a hundred different ways.
“Will you?” he asked, his voice as unemotional as if he were requesting the time.
Once more Lindy would be forced to face the truth. Rush loved her enough to want a commitment from her but not enough to make her his wife. She would be a fiancée. Again. But not a wife.
A strange light flared in his eyes that she faintly saw in the darkness. “It’s important to me.”
She sucked in a deep breath and felt all the resistance inside her collapse. Gone was her pride; gone was her conviction; gone was her stubbornness. He wanted to wait. She would. He wanted her to wear his ring. She would do that, too.
“Yes,” she whispered brokenly. He needed that assurance. It was Lindy who required more.
* * *
Hours later something woke Lindy. Unsure what had stirred her from slumber, she rolled onto her side and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Across the room a shadow moved and she noted Rush’s profile outlined in the doorway of her bedroom. He was leaning against the frame of her door, his head dropped as if he were caught in the throes of some terrible quandary. Something about him, about the way his shoulders slouched and his head drooped, told her this was the last place in the world he wanted to be…or the first.
“Rush, what is it?” She raised herself up on one elbow.
Her words seemed to catch him unawares, and he jerked his head up and straightened. Moving to her side, he sank to the edge of the mattress. Tenderly he brushed the unruly hair from her forehead, his face so intense it seemed knotted. He didn’t speak, and Lindy had no way of knowing his thoughts. He groaned then, and his mouth claimed hers in a fiery kiss that threatened to turn her blood to steam. He lifted his mouth from hers and tucked her head beneath his chin, rubbing his jaw back and forth over her crown as if to soak in her softness.
Lindy dragged in a shuddering breath, her senses fired to life by his touch. She’d assumed when she first woke that he wanted to make love to her, but that wasn’t his intention. No lover would hold a look of such torment. His eyes were fierce, savage and yet unimaginably tender.
He studied her, and his warm hands stroked her face as though to memorize each loving feature. The smile that touched the edge of his mouth was fleeting. And still he didn’t speak. His thumb lightly brushed over her lips, and he closed his eyes briefly as if to compose his troubled thoughts.
“I love you, Lindy,” he whispered, in a voice that was at once gruff and soft. “I love you so much it scares the hell out of me.”
His arms went around her, holding her as close as he could with the blankets bunched between them. Inhaling a deep breath, he buried his face in her neck.
Lindy’s fingers riffled through his dark hair and she lowered her lashes, cherishing this moment, although she wasn’t sure she understood it.
“Tomorrow,” he told her. “I want you to take off early. We have an appointment at the courthouse.”
* * *
The longest—and shortest—days of Lindy’s life were the three they were required to wait before their wedding. Rush made the arrangements with a navy chaplain, and Jeff and Susan Dwyer stood up for them. The ceremony itself lasted only a few short minutes. Rush stood close at Lindy’s side, and she couldn’t ever remember him looking more handsome than in full-dress uniform. When he repeated his vows, his voice was strong and confident. Lindy’s own was much softer, but equally fervent.
Afterward they went to an expensive restaurant for dinner and were met by several other couples, all navy people, all friends of Rush’s. Names and faces flew past Lindy, and after a while she gave up trying to keep track of who was who. She managed to smile at each one and made the effort to thank them for coming to share this day with her and Rush.
Once they were seated, Lindy placed the bouquet of baby’s breath and pink rosebuds in her lap. Susan sat on her left and Rush on her right. Rush was talking to Jeff who sat on the opposite side from him. Rush’s fingers closed around Lindy’s and communicated his frustration at being trapped with all these people when he wanted to be alone with her. Lindy felt the same way. Rush was her husband and she was dying with the need to be his wife in every way. They had such little time left together. Three days and two nights to last them half a year.
“Do you think we’re both crazy?” Lindy leaned over and whispered to Susan. There’d been so little time to talk before the ceremony.
“I think it’s the most wildly romantic thing I’ve seen in years.” Her new friend’s eyes sparkled with shared joy. “A blind man could see how much Rush loves you.”
“I honestly didn’t think he’d do it,” Lindy confessed.
“What? Marry you?”
“Yes, before he left anyway. He wanted to wait until he returned in December, and…then he didn’t. I hardly had time to think once he made up his mind. The past three days have zoomed by. I feel as if I’ve been on a spaceship—everything’s a blur. We’ve been up every night past midnight discussing the arrangements.
“Didn’t you have to work?”
Lindy nodded and suppressed a yawn. “I didn’t dare ask for any days off since I’ve been working such a short time. I regret that now, because I think my supervisor would have understood. But Rush didn’t want me to jeopardize my job.”
“You’ll need it once he’s gone,” Susan said with a wisdom that must have come from her years as a navy wife. “It’s important for you to keep busy. Rush knows that. Having a job to go to every day will help the time he’s gone pass all the more quickly. The transition from being together almost constantly to being alone will be smoother, too.”
“What about you?” Lindy knew that Susan didn’t work outside the home. Her friend couldn’t with Timmy and Tommy still so young.
“I manage to do some volunteer work with some of the other navy wives,” Susan explained. “We help each other. Once everything settles down, I’ll introduce you around.”
Lindy smiled, more than willing to meet the others and make new friends. She wanted to do everything that was right to be a good wife to Rush. There was so much to learn, so much to remember. Susan was already a valuable friend, and now she was willing to show Lindy the ropes.