The Gauntlet (21 page)

“Positive.”

His hand felt good on hers, and she smiled slightly. “Thanks for understanding. I wouldn’t make a very good copilot right now, anyway.”

There was so much Cam wanted to tell her, share with her, but he withheld it. Molly had another month of school left, and somehow he had to control his need for her. She was so close to succeeding on her own merits, on her own strength and courage. He didn’t want to interfere in this process that was crucial to Molly’s well-being. Reluctantly, Cam removed his hand.

“Sleep, angel,” he whispered. Cam doubted Molly even heard him. Her eyes were already closed, her lips softly parted. Even now, darkness still shadowed the pale skin beneath her golden lashes.

His mind revolved forward to Martin and to the possibility the pilot had gone into a flat spin on purpose to blow the test and make Molly look bad. Martin wasn’t good at spins. Or was he? Cam shook his head. Fifty percent of the time when a pilot got into a flat spin, it was impossible to pull the aircraft out of it, and a crash resulted. Martin had to be
very
good to purposely put a jet into one and then get it out again.

His emotions seesawed between brutal anger toward Martin if that was so, and a grim determination to protect Molly. Dammit, he loved her. He’d lost one woman he’d loved to events completely out of his control. This time he could control or at least influence the outcome.

Wiping his damp brow, Cam glanced over at Molly. Her head was tipped to one side, and she was sleeping deeply. An ache spread through his heart—an ache so intense and filled with hope that it drove tears into his eyes. His future sat next to him, sleeping the sleep of an innocent.
Sweet God,
Cam thought,
she’s so good and pure.
Despite the punishing military system, Molly had kept her vulnerability and idealism intact. That in itself showed her inherent strength, her ability to survive on her own terms.

The discoveries he was making about Molly were like seeing the light at the end of a seemingly endless tunnel he’d walked by himself for so very long. Each nuance she revealed to him was exhilarating, humbling. A fierce love for her swept through Cam, as startling as it was potent. The future seemed alive with promise, alive with such hope that he wanted to stop the car, drag Molly into his arms and love her.

Cam shook his head, forcing himself to concentrate on the two-lane road. Bright autumn-colored trees and rolling green hills surrounded him. The day was a mirror reflecting the promise and hope that dwelled in his hammering heart. Never had the sky seemed bluer, the clouds whiter or the sun brighter—the color of Molly’s hair.

Scratching his head ruefully, Cam wondered what had happened to him. He was turning into a dreamer, seeing the world from a completely different perspective. How could that be? Cam knew what love— real love—was. He’d felt it, shared it with Jeanne and Sean. Glancing over at Molly, he experienced new sensations, wonderful feelings that sprang from an unknown chamber of his heart that he hadn’t realized existed, until this moment with her.

Relief, sweet and splintering, flowed through Cam, and a huge, nameless weight was lifted from his shoulders. Miraculously, he felt lighter, more free. As he drove on, mile after mile through the countryside that paralleled the bay, he gradually understood what had happened. He’d finally released his family—and it had been Molly’s love that had made it possible.

Cam savored the realization, the hours flowing around him in a cocoon of memories and good feelings. He’d never forget his family. No. They owned a piece of his heart and his memory. He knew that Molly would never feel threatened by that, and that he’d always hold Jeanne and Sean close in a good and positive way.

By the time they reached the bridge that spanned the Chesapeake Bay and would guide them by Annapolis, Molly stirred. Cam divided his attention between driving and watching her slowly awaken. How badly he wanted to see her wake up in his arms some morning after making slow, beautiful love all night. Each of her movements was graceful and unhurried as she stretched and yawned.

“I was dreaming,” Molly said in a sleepy voice, her eyes half open. The spans of the bridge crisscrossed like shadows on the windshield of the car.

“Happy dreams?”

“No…”

“Tell me about it.”

Molly dragged in a deep breath. “They were about my father.” She studied her hands. Several of her fingernails had broken during the ejection. That was how she felt inside presently: broken up. Glancing over at Cam, she saw the softening of his mouth, the tenderness in his blue gaze when it held hers briefly.

“I know his not contacting you hurt,” Cam ventured.

“Do you really think he loves me?” Molly grimaced. “What a stupid thing to ask. I know he loves me. That sounds silly.”

“No, not silly at all.”

“I feel abandoned, Cam.”

“I know. But—” he smiled gently “—you’ve got me, plus your friends Dana and Maggie. You aren’t alone.”

Molly reached out, sliding her hand across Cam’s. It was such a natural response. His long, strong fingers wrapped around her hand, and some of the pain fled from her heart. “Friends are so important to me. I don’t know what I’d have done without all of you through the past five years.”

“Your father loves you, Molly. He just doesn’t realize it yet.”

She couldn’t keep the hurt out of her voice. “I’m so angry at him, Cam. I nearly died out there yesterday. He could’ve called. He would’ve flown down to see me if I was really important to him.” Her eyes mirrored her anguish as she looked out the window, not seeing the beauty of Maryland. “He’s got Scott so wrapped around his finger that he didn’t call, either.”

“It’s a messy, complex situation,” Cam agreed quietly. “I think the only thing that will help will be time and keeping the lines of communication open, Molly.”

“Oh, sure. Once I get back to my apartment, I’ll call him and say, ‘I’m okay, Father. I almost died out there, but I’m fine now.’”

“Your father has too much pride. It’s a very expendable emotion, Molly. Don’t wear it like he does. Do whatever it takes to let him know you love him and Scott. I know it’s hard, but it’s the only option you’ve got unless you want to close up the way he has. That could last years. I’ve seen it happen in other families. Is that what you want?”

“No,” she muttered. Rubbing her temple, she said, “I don’t want to talk to him. I’m too emotional right now. I’ll write a letter instead.”

Cam nodded. “Letters are fine. I’m proud of you, Molly. I really am.”

She managed a slight smile. “Nobody said living was supposed to be easy, did they?”

“Sometimes it’s more a can of pits than a bowl of cherries.”

Laughing, Molly wanted to throw her arms around Cam’s shoulders and kiss him. There was such care and love in his eyes as he glanced over at her. Her heart beat painfully hard beneath her ribs. Yes, she loved Cam. Nearly losing her life had forced Molly to rip away the blinders and admit the truth. Did he really love her? A part of her thought so. Another part didn’t know. Time, she cautioned herself. They had to have time.

“I’m going to take you over to your apartment and then go over to TPS for a while,” Cam told her. In another hour and a half, they’d be home.
Home.
What would it be like to have Molly at his house? It would be a home then—not the empty shell it was now.

“You’ve got work to do?” Molly asked in disbelief.

“Well,” Cam hedged, “I have to get this accident report filed and on the commandant’s desk by Monday. Now, don’t go looking scared, Molly. You’re in the clear on this. No grades will be given to either student. I’m sure the commandant will want the test repeated.”

“By Martin and me?” she demanded, her eyes widening.

“Not if I can help it,” Cam answered grimly. No way in hell was he going to let Martin get at her again. On Monday, Cam would learn the commandant’s decision.

* * *

“It appears to be a fluke in the test,” Captain Rawlins told Cam and Vic, who stood at parade rest in front of his desk. He placed the file in front of them. “Schedule Martin and Rutledge to fly on Wednesday. They’ll also have to fly again on Friday with different students. I expect Rutledge to have her next test-flight program ready for Friday, Vic.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Captain,” Cam said tensely, “I’m going to step out of line and say that I don’t feel it’s in Martin’s or Rutledge’s best interests to have them fly together again.”

Rawlins looked up. “Oh?”

Cam squirmed. He couldn’t prove Martin had done anything wrong on that flight. To stand here and accuse him of such would be stupid and foolhardy. Rawlins would want proof, and he had none. “Sir, there’s a real personality conflict between them. Vic will validate that—”

“Yes, sir, there is,” Vic chimed in.

Scowling, Rawlins sat back in his leather chair, scrutinizing them. “That won’t wash, Cam, and you know it. If you want, check Martin out on spin tests before you send them up if you’re worried about his performance. If he screws them up, let’s reassess his capabilities.” He jabbed a finger at him. “But that’s the only scenario where I’ll reassign Rutledge to another pilot so she can complete the necessary spin-test requirement for graduation. Understand?”

Disheartened, Cam nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll go up with him this afternoon.”

“Good. Dismissed, gentlemen.”

Out in the hall, Vic walked at his shoulder. “You’re worried about something, Cam. What is it?”

“Nothing,” Cam muttered, keeping his personal feelings tightly controlled. Rawlins had given him a way out. He’d take Martin up in an F-14 this afternoon and make him do spins until he was airsick, if necessary. But if Martin passed the examination, Cam was helpless to stop the test from being reflown.

* * *

Martin walked cockily across the apron from the hangar, helmet and duffel bag in hand. He grinned over at Cam.

“You look a little green, Captain Sinclair. Did my spins get to you?”

Cam shook his head. Darkness was coming over the air station as they walked to the waiting van that would take them back to Ops. “Your spins were acceptable, Mr. Martin.”

His smile widened. “So I go up with Rutledge on Wednesday. Is that it?”

Climbing into the van, Cam nodded. “That’s right.” After he got back to TPS and changed into civilian clothes, Cam was going over to visit Molly. He felt sick inside, helpless to protect her when his gut was telling him Martin was up to something. But what?

* * *

Molly smiled and stepped aside to allow Cam into her apartment. He had Miracle with him, and she leaned over, hugging the dog affectionately.

“This is a surprise,” she said, closing the door. Cam wore a pair of ivory corduroy slacks and a cranberry flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The shadow she saw in his eyes lessened her smile. “What’s wrong, Cam?”

There was no sense in scaring Molly or making her worry about his unproved suspicions. “Nothing.” He forced a smile. “You look pretty.” Molly wore a dark blue turtleneck and a plaid wool skirt that grazed her ankles. She looked old-fashioned, beautiful and incredibly delicate as she stood before him. Cam tried to separate his feelings from his reason for coming over. It was almost impossible. Molly’s blond hair lay in mussed abandon around her shoulders, her green-and-gold eyes alight with such happiness that Cam wanted to crush her in his arms and hold her forever.

“Thank you. Come in. I was just making some lemon tea from my grandmother’s old recipe.”

“I like your grandmother. I’m just sorry I never got to meet her,” Cam said, following Molly in the kitchen. Everywhere he looked the decor was Oriental. Instead of stainless-steel bowls, Molly had copper ones that hung from various hooks around the modern kitchen stove in the center of the room.

“She’d have loved you,” Molly told him, meaning it. Pouring the tea into two delicate china cups, she handed one to Cam. “It’s been quite a day. Everyone with the exception of Martin was really glad to see me at school. I got pats on the back, handshakes and congratulations.” Molly laughed and moved to the living room and sat down on the couch. Cam sat on the overstuffed chair nearby.

“Anybody who survives an ejection is looked upon with respect,” Cam informed her.

“Heck of a way to earn respect.” Molly laughed, curling her feet beneath her, and smoothed out the wrinkles in the plaid skirt.

“You’ve changed those guys,” Cam said seriously, sipping the fragrant, tart tea.

“At first they thought I was a joke because I was a woman invading their strictly male territory.”

“Yes. But after five months, with hard work, savvy and your own brand of statesmanship, you’ve changed their minds.”

Molly grinned and watched Miracle come and lie down between them, resting her head on her paws. “My womanly diplomacy, you mean.”

“Exactly. TPS is better off because of your presence here. A gentler spirit has made the men realize there’s more than one way to approach and solve problems.”

“You mean,” Molly suggested, “I’ve taught them you don’t need to bang heads, curse and outshout the other person to get your point across.”

Cam nodded.

“What’s bothering you?”

He moved uncomfortably. “You have to fly with Martin on Wednesday.”

Molly frowned and compressed her lips. She held the cup between her slender fingers. “I guess I knew that in my heart. There’s no reason why the commandant wouldn’t order us to repeat it, is there?”

“No….” And then Cam told her about retesting Martin on spins earlier that day. He saw some of the worry leave Molly’s eyes.

“Want to take a look at my Friday test? It’s a really good one.” Molly got up and went to her office and got the printout. She spread it across the coffee table, and they knelt beside each other, checking her test. Cam devoted his attention to her mathematical figures, and the complexity involved in it.

“Looks good,” Cam congratulated.

“At least I won’t have to fly it with Martin. I hope I get Dalton. He’s really a top pilot.”

Cam smiled. “See? You’re already behaving like a test-flight engineer. You’ve got your favorite pilots picked out.”