Beginning with You (11 page)

Marcia stepped between them. “Now listen, both of you. You’re both tired, and the day’s been long. Kenny, go get washed up and get to bed. Any homework you have can be done tomorrow morning. Just set the alarm earlier. Ward, I’ll see you in the den. Now, go on, both of you.”

Ward stared steadily at his son. He raised his finger, jabbing it toward him. “You’re grounded. Just remember that, or else.”

“Or else what?” Kenny shouted shrilly. “You’ve already taken my car away from me. Jesus Christ, I just got here to this stinkin’ one-horse town and you’re on my ass already! As usual!”

Ward brushed by Marcia, halting inches in front of his son. “And I’ll be on your ass every second, if I have to be, until you no longer live in this house.”

Kenny whirled around, heading for the stairs. “You don’t give a damn about me! All you care about is your career. You’re so afraid I’ll tarnish your good-guy image. Well, don’t worry, sir. No one wants to stay the hell out of your way and that Super Coastie image more than me.” He saw his father’s face tighten and fled up the stairs to his “room before Ward could retaliate.

Ward halted at the bottom of the stairs, cursing softly beneath his breath, turning and almost running into his wife. He glared down at Marcia, frustration written in every crease of his face. “Sometimes I wonder how we managed to have a kid like that. Robby’s so damn good in comparison to him.” He brushed past Marcia, heading toward the den. When days went bad, they went all the way.

Gil greeted the next morning with bloodshot eyes. He hadn’t slept well because he had missed Eve’s presence in the bed. She was still acting like a child, sleeping out on the couch. Needing her warmth, Logan had tossed and turned all night. Later, he’d nicked himself shaving, and he knew it was an omen. He glanced down at his watch and realized it was nearly 0630. He had to hurry.

Eve forced herself to get up and put on her peach-colored silk robe. She heard Gil bumping around in the study of the small, two-bedroom house. Halting at the doorway, she saw he was dressed in uniform, with an olive-green flight suit tucked beneath one arm. That meant he had duty for the next twenty-four hours, beginning at three today—again. “You said you’d attend my club’s dinner tonight.” Startled, Gil jerked up from his crouched position at one of the file drawers. “I forgot, Eve. Things are crazy over at the station right now, and it slipped my mind.” Normally, Eve slept until ten every morning. Eve’s blond hair was mussed about her fragile face, giving her an ethereal look. Her voice was husky with sleep, and her eyes were barely open. Her lips were soft and inviting. Gil ached to take her back to bed with him. Things always got repaired between them when he loved her. Gil struggled for words to pacify Eve. “Look, I’m sorry, honey. I know how much this dinner meant to you.”

Crossing her arms, Eve muttered, “You forgot? You always forget, Gil. If it has anything to do with your precious Coast Guard, you automatically remember it! But if it’s something that’s important to me, you forget it.”

Gil raked his fingers through his hair and stood up, shutting the file drawer more loudly than he’d intended. “Dammit, you are important to me, Eve.”

She gave him a scalding look. “My body’s important to you. I’m not.”

He jammed several files into his leather briefcase. “That’s not true, and you know it.” He allowed his hands to drop to his sides and faced her. “What the hell’s happening to us, Eve? All we’ve done the last six months is fight. I try to find some neutral ground between us, but you always find something wrong with it. I’m sorry I forgot about that dinner tonight, but you know what kind of shape the air station is in. Now, this new CO is really stirring up the pot. All of us thought things were chaotic as hell before, but we were wrong. The shit is really going to start hitting the fan today. The captain ordered all the flight records from maintenance, and Jarvis knows his ass is going to get burned.”

With an exasperated sigh, Eve whispered angrily, “I don’t care about that station, or the new CO or Chief Jarvis! I think he’s an alcoholic and deserves to get punished for everything he’s been doing wrong.”

“Let’s talk about us. How about if I make up for the dinner I’m missing by taking you out tomorrow night? Are you game?”

Eve pouted a few moments and then murmured, “I guess so….”

Gil approached her, placing his hand on her shoulder. He leaned down, nuzzling her cheek. “Champagne? Flowers? And the best food in Port Angeles? That little French restaurant on the outskirts?”

Her resolve wavered and she glanced gratefully up at him. There was a catch in her voice. “That sounds nice, Gil. We’ve barely seen each other the last five months.”

“I know, I know….”

Eve looked at her watch. “Where are you going so early? It’s only half past six.”

Gil steeled himself for the inevitable. “I promised Lieutenant Caldwell that I’d give her a ride to the station the next couple of mornings.” When he saw Eve’s face twist in shock, he quickly added, “Her car got rear-ended by a timber truck two days ago. I’m following her to Sequim to drop it off, then giving her a ride back to the station.”

“I don’t believe this!”

“Eve—for Christ’s sake.”

“No! Don’t you dare touch me, Gil Logan!”

Helplessly, he watched Eve march down the hall and disappear into the living room. “Sonofabitch,” he muttered, and then walked over and picked up his cap, settling it on his head. His stomach was tied in knots. Picking up the briefcase, he stalked into the living room. Eve was curled up on the couch, face set, lips pouty, staring at the opposite wall.

Gil crouched down in front of her, his hand resting lightly against her robed knee. “Honey, look at me. Please.”

“Go to her, Gil. That’s where you want to be, anyway.”

He squelched the urge to curse. Instead, he said quietly, “That’s not true, Eve. I love you. I always have and always will. Look, we’re going through a tough time together. And what’s making it worse is the hours I’ve got to spend at the base. But that will ease, sooner or later.”

She tightened her arms against her breasts, refusing to meet his searching gaze. All her fears were coming true. “The officers’ wives will talk! By noon today I’ll hear from Jordanna how you gave Lieutenant Caldwell a lift to the station. It will be all over Port Angeles by nightfall!”

Closing his eyes, Gil muttered, “Eve, to me, she’s just another junior officer who happens to fly helicopters—not a potential affair. Have I ever given you reason to distrust me?”

“I’ve heard of these cockpit romances.”

“I’ve never heard of or seen one in my six years in the Coast Guard.” He stroked her knee. “If it will make you any happier, it appears that she has a boyfriend already. Jody Theron was telling us that Howard Barton’s son is courting her.” Gil saw Eve barely flick a glance in his direction, but it was a sign that she was listening. She never had been able to pass up gossip. “Apparently, he came over early yesterday afternoon with a dozen roses. No, make that thirteen. Jody counted them. They went into Caldwell’s office and talked for another ten minutes behind closed doors. Now, do you feel better?”

Eve’s lower lip pushed out a bit more, but she refused to respond to Gil’s entreaty. “Jody Theron is the biggest gossip on base and you know it! She deliberately starts rumors that have no foundation.”

Releasing a long breath, Gil slowly rose. “Eve, ten people in the office saw Barton walk in with the roses. Do you want signed affidavits from them as proof that it happened?”

She turned her head away from Gil, staring over at the wall. “I’ll call someone this morning and verify your story.”

He almost smiled. She’d call Jody herself. Gil wasn’t sure who was the bigger gossip: Jody or Eve. “Do what you want. I’ll give you a call tonight around five if I’m not called out on a case.”

“Who else has the duty tonight?”

“It’s not Lieutenant Caldwell, if that’s what you want to know. Sam Talbot’s my copilot.”

“Fine.”

He leaned over, pressing a kiss to her silky hair. “I love you, Eve. I’ll see you tomorrow evening at five.”

“Fine.”

Gil straightened up, giving her a look of longing. As he turned away, the awful truth that their marriage was crumbling hit him. Had his parents ever gone through times like this? What had they done to solve their problems? Pride prevented Gil from asking his father. Bob Logan had spent twenty years in the Coast Guard, and he had made his marriage work. Why couldn’t he? Gil headed out the door, automatically looking up at the sky that he might have to fly in today or tonight. For the second day in a row, it was devoid of the stratus clouds and pockets of low-hanging fog that always plagued the seacoast town. Instead, there was a vibrant pink on the horizon, which meant that the sun would rise in another half hour. Was it a sign that maybe the day would go better than expected? His mind revolved ahead to Rook Caldwell as he backed his Jeep Cherokee out of the driveway and onto the street. If Jim Barton was her boyfriend, that would take the heat off him. He’d have to find out if Jody’s gossip was true.

Rook was jumpier than usual. She expected Jim Barton to mysteriously show up at her doorstep at seven o’clock instead of Gil Logan. He didn’t. And, as Gil followed her over to Sequim, she expected Barton to be waiting for her at the garage. He wasn’t. Terry, the mechanic, was an old man who knew a lot about cars. He promised to call Rook when it was repaired, but told her not to expect it back for at least two weeks. The aged mechanic didn’t have a loaner car to give her. Rook’s heart sank for the inconvenience it was going to cause her.

On the way back in Gil’s car, Rook hesitantly explained the situation.

“That’s not a problem. I can come by and pick you up in the morning. Depending on the duty, I’m sure one of the other officers would be happy to take you home. If we pull duty together, I can pick you up and drop you off.”

“I can’t ask that of you, Gil. It’s awfully sweet, but—”

“Pilots stick together, Rook. We’re like family, in a way.”

She wanted to strangle Jim Barton for all the problems he was causing her. What would the base gossip be about her riding with different male officers for two weeks? If Rook didn’t miss her guess, pert little Jody Theron would be there to log it all in and then blast it around the station with that mouth of hers. She was a loose cannon. Already, she’d heard a couple of yeomen whispering about the roses. Rubbing her brow, Rook grimaced.

“Let me think about it, Gil.” There had to be a better solution. She absolutely refused to think about taking Barton’s offer of his Corvette. Then, the tongues would really wag.

“Okay, no sweat. Whatever you want to do is fine with me.”

At the office, Rook’s orientation got underway. To her delight, the Ops officer told her that she’d fly every day, if possible. At 1300, Gil would take her on her first FAM—familiarization—flight. Already, things were looking up, and some of her depression over the car situation evaporated. Changing into her one-piece olive flight suit, Rook felt good about herself. Finally, she was going to do something she was very good at: fly. If she could do it well and impress Gil, he would tell the other pilots, in turn, that she could be trusted. Throughout the rest of the morning, Rook prayed that she wouldn’t screw up on the morning flight. She just couldn’t.

As Rook walked down the hall with Gil to take the FAM flight, she saw Chief Jarvis. He didn’t look happy, either. She watched the impeccably dressed man walk up the stairs that would lead to the skipper’s office.

Gil opened the door for Rook. “The shit is going to hit the fan now,” he told her quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“Jarvis has been playing favorites over at the hangar for some time now. The old CO didn’t give a damn what he did or how he did it. Now, I think Stuart’s on to his games.”

Rook nodded. “Funny, Annie Locke said the same thing to me about the chief, yesterday.”

“Jarvis hates Annie. He’s been on her case for as long as I’ve been here. I don’t know how she’s hung in there.”

“Why does he hate her, Gil?” Rook knew the answer before he even said it.

“Oh, he’s one of those throwbacks to the Ice Age who believes women should be barefoot and pregnant. You know the type.”

“Unfortunately, I do.”

He smiled over at her. “Don’t worry, there aren’t too many Ice Age types around here. I think you’ll find we’re professionals.”

“I’m finding that out already, and believe me, it’s a huge load off my shoulders,”

Out of habit, because pilots were buddies, Gil placed his hand on her shoulder. The gesture shocked him as much as it did Rook. He saw the panic in her eyes and quickly broke contact. Had anyone seen it happen? “Sorry,” he muttered, “I’m already treating you like one of the guys.”

“That’s all right, Gil. It was the thought that counted. I appreciate you making me feel as if I’m part of his team before I’ve even begun proving myself.”

Heat crawled into Gil’s cheeks over his stupid, unthinking gesture. Was Jody Theron watching through the blinds as they walked over to the hangar? Oh, Christ, if she was, and Eve found out about it, there would be hell to pay. “Anything’s going to be easier than what Jarvis is walking into, believe me,” he muttered, trying to switch to a more impersonal topic.

“Chief Jarvis reporting as ordered, sir,” Chappie snapped in front of the CO’s desk.

Ward looked up from the neat piles of paperwork in front of him, allowing the chief to remain at attention. A quick perusal told him that Jarvis knew how to influence a superior. His uniform was clean and pressed. His shoes were like ebony mirrors. Ward studied the man’s impassive face. He saw a thin sheen of sweat on it. Had he been drinking prior to coming over here? Anger made Ward’s voice clipped and steely.

“Chief, I studied the duty roster for six hours last night, and what I found requires a lot of explanation. For instance,” Ward dragged out one of the many lists he’d prepared. “How can you explain the fact that Locke, who’s an E-6, has stood forty-three percent more duty than anyone else? That includes almost half of the duty weekends. Davis, who’s also an E-6, has stood thirty percent more duty than average. There are certainly plenty of E-4s and -5s who could take up the slack and give those two time to fulfill other, more important duties. And Marchetti, who’s only an E-4, has stood less duty than anyone.”

Jarvis swallowed hard. The bastard was going to make him stand at formal attention. Normally, chiefs were accorded special privileges by officers, and particularly by CO’s, because of their importance in the infrastructure between lower enlisted rates and the officer group. He’d swallowed half a pint of vodka this morning before coming to work and then eaten a chocolate bar to cover any residue of liquor on his breath. God knew, he needed fortification for this confrontation.

“Sir, if I may sit down and explain?”

“You can stand there and give me an explanation, Chief Jarvis.”

Hatred exploded within Jarvis. He only had two more years before his twenty years were up and he was eligible for a pension. Now, this short shit was going to threaten his entire career. “Yes, sir,” he croaked in a rumbling voice.

“First, why has Locke stood so much duty?”

“Many of my men were either sick or had leave, and she was one of the few I could pull in on short notice, sir.”

‘That wasn’t just watch duty, Chief. That was ready-crew duty. Weren’t you worried about her mental state after a while? Flight mechanics are very special people, in a highly responsible position. The helicopter, rescue swimmer and two highly trained pilots are in their hands every time they fly out on a case.”