Always Ready (13 page)

Aven frowned. “Some people do that. Was he hardon you?”

“No, not really, but it made me angry. With Tilley. He’s a bully.”

“He’s a boatswain. It’s part of his job to keep things running smoothly.”

She shook her head. “This wouldn’t help things run better. Those men did nothing wrong, and he had to know it. That wave that rocked us was a fluke.”

“What did he do to you?”

She shrugged. “An extra shift. It wasn’t that bad, and I managed to control my reaction. But it made me furious inside, and then it made me sad and depressed.”

“Did you pray about it?”

“I tried. It didn’t seem to help mend my attitude.”

They sat still for a long time, until Aven stirred. “I don’t have all the answers, but sometimes things happen in the service that we don’t think are right.”

“Oh, I know. This wasn’t all that important. That’s part of what worries me. Why am I making it such a big deal? Because Tilley made a big deal out of a small incident?”

“Maybe. But you need to keep your focus where it belongs. No matter what happens—no matter if your CO is a nutcase, or if you lose a man overboard, or if your paycheck gets lost on its way to your bank account—you have to remember that God’s in charge. As far as God is concerned, I figure I’m still in recruit training.”

Caddie tilted her head to one side. “I suppose so. I know I have a long way to go.”

“We all do. But when I think of our motto, I don’t just think of being ready to fulfill my duties or being ready to help people in trouble. I think about being ready for whatever God brings my way.”

She let her shoulders slump and shook her head a little. “You make it sound easy.”

“Sorry. It’s not. It’s easy to say but hard to do on a consistent basis.”

“So, you don’t think I made a mistake when I enlisted?”

“No. That’s what you felt God called you to do at the time.”

Her blue eyes glistened, and he wondered if she was on the verge of tears. Her voice cracked when she spoke again. “Does God change His mind?”

“No, but He might change yours.”

She swung her half-empty bottle of cola through the air in a gesture of frustration. “But I was so sure!”

Aven shifted on the bench to face her squarely. “With me it’s the opposite. I joined the Coast Guard mostly as a way to finance my education. After I got in, I found out I loved it. This is my education and career rolled into one. I just didn’t know it eight years ago.”

Caddie leaned back against the bench, and Aven ran his fingers over the back of her vest, between her shoulder blades. She nodded slowly. “I’m not making any rash decisions. I’ll keep in mind what you said and try to take it as it comes.”

“Good. One day at a time, and remember God knows all about it.”

“Right. But I can’t help wondering sometimes if I really belong in this uniform. Maybe I don’t have what it takes.”

“Don’t say that. You’ve saved lives. Every day you’re serving your country. Even if you don’t stay in for the long haul, you’ve contributed a great deal.” He turned her gently toward him. “And, Caddie, we wouldn’t have met if you hadn’t enlisted. This wasn’t a mistake. It may be a step on the path to something different, but don’t ever think it was a mistake.”

❧

When the
Wintergreen
docked on September 6 after a three-week deployment, Caddie could feel autumn in the air. All hands were instructed to bring their cold weather gear on the next cruise.

With ten days in port, she had a reasonable hope of seeing Aven before she sailed again, though his cutter was not at its mooring when she arrived home.

The next day, she was due on deck to help with the refitting of the ship, after which she could enjoy a three-day furlough. Before she left her apartment for the day, she took an unexpected phone call from Oregon.

“Miss Lyle?”

“Yes.” She didn’t recognize the voice, and anyone connected to her life in the Coast Guard would address her as “Boatswain’s Mate Lyle” or “Petty Officer Lyle.”

“This is Marshall Herting of the
Oregonian.
”

Caddie caught her breath. “Oh, hello.”

“I’ve been looking at your story on Kodiak. I like it very much.”

It was a good thing he couldn’t see her, with the silly smile she wore. “Thank you very much.”

“We’d like to feature it in our next weekend edition. We’ll be mailing you a check.”

“That’s wonderful. Thank you.”

“Do you have any more travel stories?”

“Well, I. . .no, not really. I haven’t prepared any, that is. I’m sure I could. Do you want more stories on Alaska?”

“We’d rather see some other destinations. Do you live in Alaska?”

“No. Yes. Well, for now.” She swallowed hard. “See, I’m in the military.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, sir. I’m in the Coast Guard. I’m stationed at Kodiak for now.”

“Ah. That explains your choice of subject.” After a pause, he said, “You did an excellent job on the story. You must have spent a lot of time preparing it.”

“Quite a bit, but I enjoyed it. I was able to talk to several hunting and fishing lodge operators while I was off duty.”

“Well, your photos are fantastic. Made me want to run out and buy a ticket to Kodiak.”

Caddie laughed. “Come next summer. It’s starting to get chilly here now.”

“I may do that. Contact me if you come up with any more ideas.”

“Thank you, sir. I will.”

She clicked off her phone, smiling. The money from the article wasn’t a huge amount, but the satisfaction she felt made up for that.

Quickly she keyed in her grandmother’s number. “Hi, Gram? It’s Caddie. I’m sorry to call so early, but I’m due at work in a few minutes.”

“Hello, dear,” came her grandmother’s warm voice. “What are you up to?”

“I wanted to tell you that your paper is buying my story. They’ll run it next weekend.”

Gram’s crowing could surely be heard throughout her senior citizens’ complex. “Sweetie, that’s terrific! I knew you could do it! You always used to write cute stories, and those pictures you sent home last spring were amazing. Now, what are you going to do next?”

“Next?” Caddie blinked. Apparently Gram wasn’t satisfied with one article. “Well, Mr. Herting did ask if I had any more travel stories in mind. But I can’t travel now.”

“Hogwash. You travel all the time.”

“Well, yeah, but he didn’t want a whole series on Alaska.”

“Can’t you do research on the computer for other places?” Gram asked.

“Well, maybe, but it wouldn’t be the same as going to the destination.”

“I know. You’ll just have to sell Alaska articles to other newspapers. Magazines, too.”

“Oh, Gram, I don’t know. I don’t have enough free time to figure all that out.”

“But, sweetie, you’re a natural. I’ve kept that letter you wrote me when you’d been to Homer. It made me cry. And the pictures you took of the mountains and the ship your daddy sailed on and that funny little lighthouse.”

Caddie frowned. “You mean the Salty Dog?”

“That’s it.”

She stifled a laugh. The Salty Dog was a bar frequented by tourists on Homer Spit. Caddie had snapped the photo because of the odd architecture of the historic building-turned-tavern.

“Oh, Gram, I don’t know.”

“A lot of magazines have travel stories, not just travel magazines. My women’s magazines each have one every month.”

“Hmm.” Caddie recalled a decorating magazine she’d seen in the doctor’s office with an article about a New England farmhouse. Maybe they would take an article about decorating with Native Alaskan art. She was sure Jo-Lynn could help her find some local artists and collectors. “I’ll think about that when I have time. Thanks, Gram! I love you.”

Ten

In late September, the
Milroy
plied the waters of Prince William Sound and Cook Inlet, checking salmon, cod, and scallop catches. Aven’s sporadic communication with Caddie kept him eager for the next e-mail or phone call.

When his ship put in at Seward for half a day, he tried her cell phone but couldn’t get through. Her ship was scheduled to take supplies to scientists doing research in the Walrus Islands State Game Sanctuary in Bristol Bay. But her latest e-mail came through just fine.

Hey, I’ve been thinking a lot about what you and my Gram said about my pictures and writing. That article for the newspaper got my ambition bubbling, and I’ve gotten guidelines for several magazines by e-mail. I had a chance this morning to get some fantastic shots of walrus in the wild, and now I’m looking for magazines that might be open to a photo essay. There’s one that’s looking for stories about women in unusual jobs, and I thought immediately of your sister, Robyn. Do you suppose she’d let me photograph her sometime? Gotta go! I miss you.

Aven smiled as he reread the message. He clicked on “R
EPLY
” and typed:

I think that’s a great idea, but you realize that to photograph Robyn and her dogs, you’d have to be within a thousand miles of her, right? Not that I think you can’t do it. You’ve got the ingenuity to make it happen. Let’s pray for a chance to go to Wasilla together.

He hesitated for a moment. Taking Caddie home to meet the family would be a huge step. He’d never brought a woman home before. His mother and Robyn—even Grandpa—would assume things were sailing full steam toward permanence. Did he want them to think that?

In spite of the slightly scary factor, the idea sat well with him, and he clicked “S
END
.” Too late to take back the invitation. Now for the prayer. It would be next to impossible to get a long enough leave for both of them at the same time. But then, God specialized in the impossible.

❧

Caddie ducked into the crowded cabin she shared with Operations Specialist Lindsey Rockwell. Bunks, lockers, a shared desk—those took up most of the space. But Caddie was used to tight quarters on a ship.

She was thankful to have other women aboard, even though Lindsey seemed a bit standoffish. The other two females—who bore the rank designation “seaman” despite their gender—had quarters nearby. Those two talked more than Lindsey, and in Dee Morrison’s case sometimes to the point of annoyance. Because of the nature of her duties, Caddie didn’t spend much time with Dee or her roommate, Vera Hotchkiss.

Lindsey was stretched on her bunk, the bottom one, which she’d occupied long before Caddie was transferred to the
Wintergreen.

“Hi,” Caddie said. “Whatcha reading?” She smiled and watched Lindsey’s face to gauge her mood.

“Just a magazine.”

Her listless voice set Caddie’s internal mood gauge at “bored, a little tired, but not hostile.” Did Lindsey resent her? Caddie had been away from the ship for more than a month. Had Lindsey wished she wouldn’t return and reclaim her space in the cabin?

Caddie stooped and caught a glimpse of the cover. “That looks interesting. Do they have travel stories?”

“Travel? I guess so. Why? Are you taking a vacation?”

Caddie laughed. “No. I’m earning extra money by writing travel stories.”

“For real?” Lindsey sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bunk. “Is that what you’ve been working on with the laptop?”

“Yeah. I’m trying to sell articles and pictures.”

“You take good pictures.”

“Thanks.” Caddie peeled off her jacket and hung it in her locker. “I heard we may go as far as Nome on our next deployment.”

Lindsey shrugged. “Maybe.”

“It’ll be the farthest north I’ve ever been. I’d kind of like to see Nome.”

“There’s not much there. And it’s kind of late in the season to head toward the Arctic Circle.”

Lindsey flopped back on her bunk, and Caddie wondered if keeping the conversation going was worth the effort. A sudden idea jogged her, but she cast it aside. “So, do you know what we’re having for supper?” Even to her, it sounded lame.

“No.”

The idea wouldn’t go away. Caddie took her hairbrush from her locker and snapped on the clip-on light so she could see what she was doing in the mirror inside the locker door.

Lord, is this thought from You, or is it a crazy whim of mine? I don’t want to say something just to get Lindsey to talk. It could turn out all wrong, and I’d regret mentioning it.

She waited but felt nothing. Her hair was disheveled from the wind, and she began coaxing it into place with her brush.

“Did you get some good pictures when you went out to look at the walrus yesterday?” Lindsey asked.

“Yeah, I did. I’m hoping to sell some, but I’m not sure where yet.” Caddie inhaled slowly. Her stomach fluttered, but she decided it was now or never. She turned and smiled at her roommate. “You know what I’d really like to photograph?”

Lindsey looked up from her magazine. “What?”