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Authors: Roxanne St. Claire

Tags: #romantic suspense military hero astronaut roxanne st claire contemporary romance

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BOOK: Space in His Heart
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“Not exactly what I’d call it,” she said,
directing her attention to Stuart. “I must admit I was pleasantly
surprised. I expected a Quonset hut.” The blue and white bungalow
on Sea Park Road had caught her off guard when she first arrived.
Twice the size of her condo with a striking panoramic view of the
Banana River and its bobbing boats and swaying palm trees, her
temporary home had quickly become one aspect of her new life that
she liked.

The three of them fell in step together as
Stuart explained the housing arrangements. “Riverfront homes are
strictly for VIPs who have long-term assignments at the Cape. But
it’s great for a sailor like you, Deke.”

“I’m taking the boat out tomorrow, as a
matter of fact,” he said to Stuart. “I’ve got to get you and Wendy
and the boys out there again. I enjoyed that last time.”

She stole a sidelong glance at him, noticing
that he had abandoned the flight suit today and wore a pair of
pressed khaki pants and a black pullover that fit snugly on a wide,
solid chest. He certainly didn’t strike her as a river rat or
someone who entertained seven-year-olds on his boat.

“The twins would love it.” Stuart turned to
include Jessica on the conversation. “It’s fortunate for us that
Deke is one of the few astronauts that live here, you know.”

“I live here because my non-flying mission
time is devoted to pre-flight engineering on the shuttles,” he
explained with a pointed look to Jessica. “I still spend a lot of
time at Johnson like most astronauts.”

In other words,
I’m way too busy living in
two cities.

“Convenient for us,” she answered brightly.
“Since the press flocks to Kennedy for launch coverage. By the way,
are you ready for media training this afternoon, Commander?”

He rolled his eyes and then looked at Stuart.
“Didn’t you warn her I don’t train easily?”

Stuart chuckled and put a hand on Jessica’s
back. “Don’t pay any attention to him, Jess. His bark is worse than
his bite.”

“The only bite she’s worried about is a sound
bite,” Deke remarked as they separated.

Not the
only
one.

In her office, Jessica inched the air
conditioner controller down to help eliminate the flush that still
burned her skin after the run-in with Deke. Stuart came back with
coffee and she tried to forget Deke Stockard’s attitude while they
discussed the contents of the press kit and she described some of
the media strategies she had planned. By the time she left for the
NASA TV studio, she had grown even more confident about the
campaign.

Once she
had a chance to phone her friends at the
LA Times
,
People
and
Newsweek
, not to
mention
Entertainment Tonight
and some of the syndicated shows, Deke Stockard and NASA
would make a high
-
impact
entry into the consciousness of America. Whether he wanted to or
not.

* * *

“Son of a bitch,” Deke muttered as he stared
at Jeff Clark standing in his office doorway. “Who the hell does he
think he is?”

“He thinks he’s the person who
single-handedly landed a man on the moon.”

Deke blew out a disgusted breath. “Funny how
history changes over a few decades. Skip Bowker was one of hundreds
of Apollo engineers.”

“Yeah, but he’s about the only one left in
NASA today, so he gets to change history. Anyway, you need to worry
about the present.”

Deke stood up and moved around his desk in
two easy strides, glowering at his friend. “Skip is not having that
meeting without us.”

Jeff followed as Deke strode out the door
into the hallway of the OPF. “Us? What us? I’m going to Skip’s
meeting. You’ll be playing spin the message with the hottie from
Boston.”

Deke froze mid-step and slowly turned to
Jeff. “That is exactly what I don’t want to hear,” he said,
pointing a single finger in Jeff’s face to make a point.

“That she’s a hottie?” Jeff asked, an
innocent smile threatening.

Deke decided to ignore it. “You’re coming to
this media training session as my backup. You promised, Jeff.”

“Yeah, I will. But we better have somebody be
our eyes and ears at Skip’s meeting.”

“I’m going to talk to him,” Deke said. “Is he
at the orbiter?”

Jeff shrugged and looked at his watch. “It’s
lunchtime. Try the pavilion.”

Deke strode into the warm November sun and
used the five minutes it took to get to the Headquarters pavilion
to calm his temper and stay focused on what mattered: Skip Bowker
was vague to the point of deception about the inspection
process.

He saw the familiar gray head buried in a
book, remnants of a brown-bag lunch half-eaten in front of him.

“Hey, Skip.” Deke sat down on the bench
across from him and waited for the older man to finish chewing and
slowly fold a dog-eared corner of his novel.

“Deke,” he said with a nod, turning the book
face down. “Thought you were off to the TV studio today.”

“I may have to change that,” Deke said, “if
I’m going to miss something important in the meeting this
afternoon.”

“Nope. Just routine review of inspection
logs.”

Deke clenched his teeth to keep from lashing
out a retort. No matter how old and irrelevant Skip seemed, he
still deserved respect. And he still called the shots in Safety
& Logistics.

Leaning back, Deke picked an imaginary piece
of lint from his khakis and spoke softly. “Nothing’s routine these
days, Skip. And February thirteenth isn’t too far off.”

Skip snorted a little. “Don’t you hate when
they pick those unlucky numbers for launch dates?”

“I’m not superstitious.” Deke knew as well as
Skip that the date had everything to do with the earth’s orbit and
timed encounters with the space station and nothing to do with
serendipity. “But I am cautious. And concerned.”

“You should be a little more like your
namesake,” Skip said, his grin baring slightly yellowed teeth. “I
knew Deke Slayton personally when he was in the Apollo program and
a bigger thrill-seeker you never met.”

Deke angled his head in acknowledgment. Skip
loved the fact that Deke’s parents were such space fans that they’d
nicknamed their firstborn son after an Apollo astronaut. But he
wasn’t here to talk about history.

“I don’t find anything about safety control
thrilling, I assure you.”

Skip waved a thick-fingered hand. “We’re in
good shape, Deke. Been through that bird fifty times myself. We
won’t have any trouble meeting that date.” When he squinted into
the sun, Skip’s creases deepened and the bright light emphasized
the age spots around his mouth.

He suddenly looked less of a legend who knew
the earliest astronauts and more like a weary old man.

A rush of sympathy surprised Deke. “I know if
anyone can get that shuttle ready to fly around the world and up to
the station, it’s you,” he said softly.

Skip looked like he might roll his eyes.
“Cool the flattery, Stockard. You’re the next big thing around
here. What do you want? I’m not changing my meeting time.”

Sympathy was wasted here. Deke leaned on the
concrete tabletop. “I’ve been living in
Endeavour
’s
fuselage, Skip. There’s got to be more worn insulation than what we
found in there.”

“Nope, we got it all. There isn’t any more.”
Skip crunched an empty bag of chips and shoved the remainder of a
baloney sandwich into a paper bag. “You’re searching for phantom
problems.”

“I’ve looked at
Columbia
, too,” Deke
continued. “I saw evidence of electrical arcing between exposed
wires and one metal screw head that’d seen about twenty-two
missions. What if one of the backups had failed? That second
computer was the only thing that saved that ship.”

Skip shook his head. “It wouldn’t have
exploded.”

“But they could have had to land manually,
dead stick, without a computer,” Deke insisted. “Which could be
just as dangerous.”

“We can’t do anymore wire harness
inspections. The space station equipment is nearly packed.” Skip
winced as he stood up to drop his trash into a nearby container.
“You just worry about your own mission on
Atlantis
in
May.”

Deke watched Skip fight his arthritis as he
tried to straighten his back.
Maybe it’s time to pack it in,
Pops, and let the young blood do your job.

Standing, he picked up the book Skip had left
on the table. “I know you don’t want an astronaut anywhere near
your domain, but let me just fill you in on a secret. You’ll get
sick of me when
Atlantis
is in the sling.” Deke smiled to
cover the edge in his voice. “I’m a real bastard when I have to fly
the damn thing.”

“You’re a real bastard when you don’t.” The
strained smile didn’t soften the insult. Maybe Skip’s renowned
jealousy of astronauts wasn’t just NASA folklore. Maybe he really
did resent the fact that he never got to go up.

But that didn’t explain his vague answers or
the holes Deke kept seeing in what logs he could find. Someone was
screwing around with the whole inspection process, but he couldn’t
believe Skip would do that deliberately. Especially since he had to
know a little about the drama unfolding on the space station.

“Since I can’t be there today, Skip, why
don’t you forward me the latest logs?”

“Just get what’s in the system. It’s all
there.”

Deke remembered the frustration he’d
experienced earlier in the day when he’d attempted to do just that.
“I tried. Couldn’t get in.”

“Really?” Skip looked surprised. “Somebody
must have deleted your password.”

“Imagine that,” Deke said dryly.

Skip nudged Deke with his elbow. “Better get
goin’, Deke. They’re waiting for you in hair and makeup.”

Before he could respond, Skip lumbered
through the doors of the Headquarters building, leaving Deke stuck
with muttered curse in his throat and the tattered paperback still
in his hand.

He turned it over and looked at the cover.
The Spy Who Came in from the Cold
. Good God. Somebody ought
to break the news to Skip that everybody was on the same side
now.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Four

Jessica relished the chill of the studio,
rubbing her arms as she watched a skeleton crew set up a camera and
lighting just as her subject sauntered in, precisely on time. An
entirely new set of goose bumps rose on her skin.

“Hello again, Commander Stockard.” She
intentionally locked her arms together in front of her but gave him
her brightest smile. He nodded and gestured toward a man who’d come
in with him.

“Miss Marlowe, this is Major Jeff Clark.”

“Have you come along to offer moral support,
Major?” Jessica asked as they shook hands in greeting.

He responded with a quick smile that lit his
clear blue eyes. “Please, call me Jeff. I’m happy to provide moral
support if needed, but it seems I’m being recruited as the
B-Team.”

An uneasy feeling crept through her. The rat
was going to try to arrange his own
redundant system
. She
shot a challenging glance to Deke. “We haven’t discussed a backup
plan.”

He spared her a look. “We haven’t discussed
any
plan.”

“Commander Stockard.” She didn’t even try to
hide her exasperation. “Please. We really can’t succeed without
your cooperation.”

“You have my cooperation, Miss Marlowe.”

“Just Jessica is fine.” How did he know it
was
Miss
, anyway?

“I’m here, at your service.” He indicated the
studio with a mocking sweep of his hand. “It seems prudent that we
have another astronaut trained to do… this.”

“Are you planning to go somewhere, Commander
Stockard?”

“At some point, I’ll be traveling about a
million miles. In my business, there’s never any guarantee that I
come home from work.”

The solemn tone in his voice caught her off
guard. She realized that for all the background information she had
gleaned from his profile, she really knew very little about this
man.

Only the biographical sketch of his
thirty-seven years, which she had just drafted into a short article
for the press kit. His impressive education included “distinguished
graduate” of the U.S. Naval Academy, a master’s in aeronautical
engineering from MIT, and top of his class at the Navy Test Pilot
School. She knew he had been based on an aircraft carrier in the
Gulf War and was decorated several times and that he’d been on one
mission to Mir, the old Russian space station. Other than that, he
remained a mystery.

“I’m sure NASA prefers that you do come home
from work, Commander,” she finally responded, realizing that she’d
been staring a moment longer than necessary. “Of course I’ll train
you both together. Why don’t we start with a mock interview? Major
Clark, would you like to be victim number one?”

“Hey, I thought I was backup.” He nudged Deke
and winked at Jessica. “No, you let Harrison Ford here take center
stage.”

When Deke settled in a chair across from her
and clipped on a mike, Jessica explained she would be interviewing
him as though he were on a morning talk show.

“Let me set up a hypothetical situation for
you. You’ve been in the news a lot lately and you’ve been vocal in
your support of the International Space Station, Alpha—”

“I know what it’s called.”

“And you’ve been spending quite a bit of time
with, oh, Gwyneth Paltrow.”

He raised an eyebrow and shot the other
astronaut a look.

Jessica signaled the cameraman to roll tape,
then leaned back and took on the voice and pose of a talk-show
host. “Commander Stockard. You must know there are rumors and
whispers running rampant about NASA’s next big announcement. Are
you planning to marry Gwyneth?”

BOOK: Space in His Heart
10.43Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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