Harlequin Superromance November 2014 - Box Set 2 of 2: Christmas at the Cove\Navy Christmas\Until She Met Daniel (43 page)

“Not now, but soon, Serena. We owe it to ourselves to explore this attraction.”

“When I’m the owner of the house you think is yours?”

He dropped his hands to his sides and the flicker of desire in his eyes snuffed out as quickly as if she’d slapped him.

Verbally, she
had
slapped him.

“I’ve learned that everything in life is negotiable.”

* * *

“I’
M
GOING
TO
take the job at Paul Scott’s firm.” Serena spoke breathlessly, carefully picking her way up the cliff-side path she was hiking.

“Wonderful! You won’t regret it. It’s time for you to take your career back.” Emily’s words weren’t as punctuated by intermittent breaths as Serena’s. With no family, Emily had more time to exercise and was in the kind of shape normally seen in college athletes.

“Yes, it is.” They’d climbed up the treacherous rock wall and were rewarded with one of the best views on Whidbey Island. The sun shone on the familiar hump of Camano Island in the distance, and glistened off the white peak of Mount Baker in the Cascade Mountain Range, about a two-hour drive from where they stood.

“This is a big part of what’s kept me here.” Serena let the wind hit her cheeks while pulling her hat lower, over her ears. She and Emily didn’t have the protection of the cliff anymore, and the ambient temperature dropped even with the bright sun.

“I’ve tried to contemplate moving several times.” Emily laughed. “It’s been so damn lonely since I lost Peter, and my odds of finding someone else would be better in so many other, less remote, places. But part of me is married to Whidbey, I suppose.”

“You’ve never told me all about it, Em.”

Emily’s hazel eyes reflected golden rays as she looked off at their vista.

“What’s there to say? I had three wonderful years with Peter, one of them married. We thought we had all the time in the world. Everything was going to happen for us, eventually. The house, the kids, the settling down.”

“You did settle here.” Emily had been a Navy nurse and her husband was a naval flight officer. They’d hoped to move all over the globe together. Until Peter got sick and died within eight months, a terrible loss for anyone.

More so, Serena thought, for a medical professional like Emily.

Did Jonas suffer from having lost anyone close to him? Did he grieve for lost patients? She was certain he must, but it wasn’t anything he’d shared with her yet.

“Yes, I stayed on. I think Peter and I would have, too. The only thing that would send me back east is my parents, but they’re still healthy and now they’re in a senior community that offers step-up care. I can go there for months at a time if I’m ever needed.”

Emily faced Serena. “So far I haven’t been needed. I’m happy here, too. I enjoy my work at the base clinic. And now I’m going to be an author!”

“Do you wish you’d had kids?” She’d seen how Emily looked at Pepé as if she could devour him.

“Sure. I wish Peter and I had decided to have kids sooner.” Emily took a swig from her water bottle. “We could’ve frozen his sperm, but he was already so sick, and each day we delayed chemo would’ve shortened his time here. As it was, we’re lucky we had as long as we did to say goodbye.”

“I don’t think eight months is a long time.”

Emily shook her head. “When you see the patients I have, who never had even a day to say goodbye, you realize it’s a blessing to have that time. My only regret is the pain Peter was in toward the very end.”

Serena’s gut was in a knot. Dottie hadn’t had any time to say goodbye, either.

“It’s such a cliché, one we hear every day—‘life is short.’ But it’s true, Serena. Grab your happiness where you can. You said you’re going to take the job? When will you start?”

“I start right after Christmas. I wanted to wait until Pepé’s begun the second part of the school year, for a smooth transition.”

“Are your hours flexible?”

“According to Paul, yes. I can work as much or as little as I like.”

“We both know what that means. You’ll be doing sixty-hour weeks before you blink.”

Serena laughed ruefully. “The old me would, for sure, when I had Phil at home from deployment, or my own family right there, for support. Not now. I’ve been through too much to make that mistake. Pepé needs me, and I need him. It’s important for both of us to maintain our routine.”

“Yes, it is.” They stood quietly for a few minutes, absorbing the beauty.

“What about Jonas?”

“What about him?”

“The fact that you haven’t brought him up makes me think there’s more going on here than a man who wants your house. Is he still staying with you?”

“No, I convinced him to go home after a couple of nights. The power came back on, and I promised to text him every night before I go to sleep.”

“That’s cozy. When are you going to admit there
is
more going on?”

“There might be. There could be. But it’s a nonstarter. He’s not looking for anything permanent and since I’m going to be working for his brother, and Pepé’s made connections with his adopted cousins, I can’t get involved. It’s not worth the potential heartache later for Pepé.”

“For Pepé?”

Serena looked at her friend. “For me, too. I know I need to date, or at least think about it. But bringing a man into the mix...I’m not ready for it yet. Not with Pepé.”

“How does he kiss?”

Serena blushed. “Adequately.”

Emily giggled and nudged her arm. “I
knew
you’d made out with him.”

“What did I do that gave it away?”

“You haven’t done anything. It’s Jonas. When I see him at work he has the look of a man completely lost in his thoughts. Men don’t do that for passing flings, Serena.”

“It hasn’t gone that far.” Not yet.

“Do you ever see him alone, without Pepé there?”

“No. And there’s no need to. It’ll only lead to trouble.” Serena turned and started to walk on the long, slowly descending path that would take them back to where they’d parked their cars.

“What about you, Emily? How’s your love life?”

“Touché. It’s nonexistent at the moment, but I can always be hopeful.”

“No prospects at the hospital?”

“Are you kidding me? Most of the men there are still boys or they’re married. I’ve got no interest in a Navy man since I don’t want to move.”

“You’d move for the right relationship,” Serena said confidently.

Emily blew one of her corkscrew curls out of her face. They were halfway down the path, and the woods offered protection from the wind. Serena enjoyed the crunch of the leaves under her hiking boots, the snap of twigs as they traversed an overlooked path.

“Maybe.”

The scent of burning wood—no, make that marijuana—hit her nostrils before Serena identified a group of three men in the depths of the woods.

“Em, look.” She spoke quietly.

Emily stopped, too, and took in the smokers. “They haven’t seen us yet. Let’s keep moving, quickly.” Serena didn’t answer, but she and Emily upped their pace and made a beeline for the other path, where they’d passed groups of hikers.

“We’re okay, Serena. It’s just some teens out for the day.”

They got back to the main path before Serena spoke.

“It’s just scary.” Serena shook with what she had to assume was residual fear after the intruder’s visit to the barn.

“I know, hon. That’s why we walked together and not by ourselves!” Emily smiled and patted her shoulder.

“Em, if Jonas hadn’t shown up when he did...”

“You would’ve made it to the house before the loser even got up, and the police would have taken him in.”

“Pepé could have been hurt.”

“He wasn’t. You made sure of that. But he could be hurt getting on the school bus, or playing soccer on City Beach. Life’s a risk, Serena.”

“I know that. Of course I know that—I’m a damned lawyer. But living alone in the middle of nowhere, it’s...different. Riskier.”

Emily waved her hand at Serena in a gesture of calm.

“You’re doing fine, Serena. You’ll get more and more used to being out there, and you’ll settle in. The alpacas made it through the night fine—now you know you don’t have to run out to see them whenever it gets cold.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Whidbey
Island
Late October 1945

S
ARAH
HEARD
THE
dogs barking and she looked out the living room window. Missy and Busy, the two farm dogs of indiscriminate lineage, ran behind Murphy, her fearless shepherd. Anxiety mingled with anticipation, her constant companion since Henry had gone missing. The emotion rose like a winter tide in her throat, threatening to suffocate her.

At least Dottie was at school, not here. She wouldn’t have the scene of being told her father had died a war hero burned into her mind, forcing out all the good memories Sarah had tried to keep alive for her over the past four years.

Tears hovered in her eyes but she blinked them back.

Be strong.

That was her prayer whenever the war had pushed her spirits down.

Her gaze homed in on the interloper. A lone man walked up the dusty drive. They hadn’t had rain in weeks and the smell of pine, cedar and dust marked the end of fall. An early winter was around every bend.

The man grew larger as his steady steps brought him closer. Oddly, the dogs followed him as if in unquestioning obedience to this stranger.

She’d heard of other sailors and soldiers returning, how their families didn’t recognize them after the years apart.

Her brain knew it
could
be Henry; he could have survived. But this man wasn’t him; her heart knew it as surely as she’d recognized Dottie as her own when the nurse had handed the baby girl to her nine years ago. This man was shorter and broader than Henry, his gait different. And his hair—nothing like Henry’s blond crew cut.

She should be afraid in that way you were when you feared a thief, or worse, a rapist. But the dogs were her barometer. She saw no weapons in the man’s hands. He wore a plain brown leather jacket over basic work pants and a collared shirt. The cold must be blowing right through him but his stride never faltered; he never paused to look around. This was a man on a mission.

She walked out to the porch, her long itchy cardigan wrapped tightly around her. It had been the one luxury she’d knitted herself since Henry left for the war. Her mother had spun the wool for her, from Sarah’s two sheep. The kitchen paring knife was in its front pocket, just in case. A woman living alone with her child learned to take precautions.

He looked up once he reached the bottom step. His sharp brown eyes seemed honest, and she knew from somewhere deep inside that she could trust this man.

But he wasn’t Henry.

“Mrs. Forsyth?”

“Yes. It’s the news about Henry, isn’t it? He’s...he’s...”

She couldn’t say the words. The inevitable statement that would end her torment and start her nightmare. He’d been missing for over four years!

“He’s alive, Mrs. Forsyth. I came here to tell you that. I didn’t wear my Navy uniform, because I didn’t want to give you a fright. I didn’t want you to think I was bringing a telegram.”

Sarah sank to her knees.

“Thank God. Oh, thank God!” She allowed the tears to fall, allowed a complete stranger to witness her like this. What difference did it make anymore?

“Here, ma’am, let me help you.” He offered his assistance in the form of two large, capable hands that hoisted her up and then let her sink down onto the steps.

“How do you know Henry?” She didn’t look up from her own hands, not yet.

“He was on my ship. Well, not
my
ship. I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself.”

She peered up at him. His face was handsome and kind, his expression earnest. As far as Sarah was concerned it was the face of an angel. He’d brought her good tidings of Henry, after all.

“I’m Petty Officer Charles Dempsey. Waterman First Class, off LST-19. Our ship pulled into Japan to rescue the G.I.s from the prison camps.”

“He was captured in Thailand, in 1942.” She whispered the only fact she had, what she’d clung to through almost four years of waiting.

“Yes, he told me that. Henry and I got to be pretty good buddies, crossing the ocean to the Marianas. He was taken to the base hospital there. The Japanese moved him from POW camp to POW camp. He was hopscotched up to Japan, via the Philippines. He’s been in Japan the past eighteen months.”

“Is he here with you?” She looked past him, willing to see a vehicle with a familiar figure in the passenger seat. She knew the answer before she asked. But the heart hopes.

“No, no, he had to stay at the base hospital until he’s strong enough to travel. I think they’ll bring him to Hawaii first, then back here. He could even be in Hawaii by now—it’s been a few weeks since I got off the ship in Pearl Harbor.”

“How is he? How did he look? Why did he send you here?”

Charles Dempsey had a deep, rich laugh. “He looked pretty bad when I first met him. He couldn’t talk much, and he needed a lot of care from the nurses and hospital corpsmen. Don’t you worry, though, because he was talking every day by the time I left. It was hard to leave him and all the other G.I.s there. They deserved to come home before I did, for sure.”

“I’m sure you’ve done your time, too, Mr. Dempsey. I mean, Petty Officer Dempsey.”

“That’s okay, ma’am, call me Charles.”

“And you must call me Sarah. Can I offer you a meal?”

“That would be very nice, yes. I’ll take you up on that. It’s been a long drive.”

“Where did you drive from?” She suspected Seattle or maybe Portland.

“San Diego.”

“California!”

His laughter rang about her. She joined in. Henry was alive!

* * *

C
HARLES
D
EMPSEY
WAS
a generous man who’d traveled thousands of miles out of his way to tell her that Henry still had a chance. More than a chance—he’d made it out of the Japanese POW camps. As Charles told the story that Henry had related to him, tears rolled down her cheeks. Gratitude, sorrow and at times rage at what Henry had endured tightened around her chest. It felt as if the tears were being squeezed out of her. If she could spare Henry any of his pain she would have done it in an instant.

Charles sat with her while she wept, never trying to intrude on her grief.

“Momma, Daddy’s alive. We can cry tears of joy now, just like you said we would!” Dottie slipped off her chair and walked around the dinner table to hug Sarah.

“These
are
tears of joy, honey. Your daddy’s coming home.”

“I know, Momma.” Dottie drew back and looked at Charles. “Does my daddy remember me?”

Charles smiled, and tweaked Dottie’s nose. “He sure does, honey bunch. He never stopped talking about you.”

Sarah’s tears multiplied as she watched the relief and happiness flood Dottie’s expression. No one had suffered as much as Dottie, not seeing her father for so long. Henry had missed so much.

“I need to stop crying. My husband’s coming home.”

“Momma, I’m going to go do my chores with the sheep.” Dottie was already pulling on her coat and boots. Sarah knew her daughter—Dottie was going to talk to the sheep and dogs about Henry’s return. The animals had provided Dottie with moral support throughout the war.

The door slammed shut behind her, thanks to the wind.

Sarah watched Charles as he smiled at Dottie’s departure, his expression wistful.

“What are your plans, now that the war’s over, Charles?”

“Well, I have a girl in Dubuque, and I hope I’ll get my job back as a molder with the same folks, A. Y. MacDonald Company.”

“So there’s someone special waiting for you, Charles?”

His smile grew subdued and tears formed in his eyes. It reminded Sarah that the war meant long separations for everyone, not just her and Henry.

“Lillian. I hope Lillian’s still there for me, yes.”

“I do, too.”

He cleared his throat and placed his napkin on the table. “This has been a wonderful visit, Sarah, and you make the best egg-salad sandwiches this side of the Mississippi. I won’t take any more of your time. I’m hoping to be home by midweek, so I’d best be on my way.” He stood, and she walked him to the door.

“Do you have enough gas?”

“Yes, and I’ve got several cans in the back of my truck, don’t you worry. I parked at the end of the drive—I wasn’t sure how you’d react to a strange truck rambling up to your house.”

He paused at the door. “Henry gave me something for you. Now don’t read too much into his shaky writing. He was still pretty feverish when he had me help him write this. It’s in his hand, but you’ll see where I spelled out the words when he couldn’t get his hand to write well enough.”

He reached into his jacket inside pocket and pulled out a small envelope.

“He asked me to tell you that no matter what, he loves you with all his heart. Never a day passed while he was in captivity that thoughts of you and your daughter didn’t help him through it.” Charles sounded unusually formal, as if he’d memorized Henry’s message word for word.

He placed the letter in her shaking hands and pressed his own hands around hers.

“You’re a dear woman, Sarah, and I have every hope that Henry will be back with you soon.”

He kissed her on the cheek and left.

She forgot to get his address in Iowa. Sarah prayed he’d write them. Henry would want to know how he was doing.