Debbie Macomber Navy Series Box Set. Debbie Macomber
one of them.”
“He is wonderful.”
“You both are.”
Lindy’s nod was decidedly noncommittal. She could feel the emotion gathering in the back of her eyes. How could Steve sound so certain about her and Rush when she was struggling to believe in her own marriage? He made her happiness sound like a foregone conclusion when she was dog-paddling in a mire of self-doubts, struggling to stay afloat. A week before he would have taken her in his arms and comforted her. Tonight he made her sound like Joan of Arc for being so brave and true. There was no justice left in the world. None.
“Attribute my foul mood to the fact that I was shocked by your news. That and a strong brotherly instinct to protect my baby sister. I think the two of you are going to do exceptionally well together.”
With trembling hands Lindy smoothed the pink linen napkin in her lap, hardly able to breathe normally, let alone find words to answer her brother. His original disdain for her and Rush’s marriage had a lot more to do with his own unpleasant experience with nuptial bliss than anything else. Lindy’s greatest fear was that she’d made the same mistake her brother had.
After an awkward moment, Lindy murmured, “I appreciate the apology, Steve, but it wasn’t necessary.”
Her brother shook his head, dismissing her words. “Rush will be good to you, and you’re exactly the right kind of woman for him. I expect you’ll both be very happy.”
“We’re going to try.” The words were squeezed out of Lindy’s throat. If he didn’t stop soon, she was going to embarrass them both by bursting into tears.
“Give this marriage everything you’ve got, Lindy.” He set down the fork and reached for the water glass. “Hold on to the happiness with both hands. Don’t ever let anything stand between you.”
His eyes were so full of pain that Lindy had to look away. She felt certain he must have read all the fear in her eyes. How sad it was that the two of them, who had once been so close, could sit across from each other and ignore what was on their hearts.
Reaching for the menu once more, Steve released his breath in a long sigh. “What do you say we start off dinner with a Caesar salad?”
“Sure,” Lindy answered, forcing herself to smile.
My dearest Lindy,
I feel like a first-class idiot, shouting at you the way I did on the phone the other night. I jumped to conclusions, thinking the worst when I didn’t get any mail from you. Lindy, I can’t even begin to explain what was going on inside me. Jeff tried to tell me there was some logical explanation why you hadn’t written, but I wouldn’t listen. It was as though my greatest fears were hitting me in the face. I couldn’t sleep; I couldn’t eat. In my mind, I was absolutely certain Paul had come back and told you he’d made a mistake and you’d left with him. I know it sounds crazy now, but at the time, it made perfect sense.
From the day when the mail was handed out and I didn’t get any, I’ve been acting like a real ass. Jeff must have gone to the chaplain because the next thing I knew I got called in to talk to him. He was the one who arranged the ship-to-shore call. Thank God he did.
After we talked, I was ready to free-fly. There’s no way to explain how much better I felt. Has anyone ever told you what a sweet, sexy voice you have? And when you told me you still loved me, I nearly broke down and wept. I was so relieved. God, Lindy, I don’t even know how to explain how good it felt to know everything’s all right.
After the things I said to you in my last letter, I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to bag this whole marriage, but I’m hoping to God you don’t. All I can say is, I’m sorry.
Honey, it’s been less than three months and I’m already keeping track of how many days until I see you again. Try to arrange some additional time off in December, if you can, will you? I’m going to take you to bed and I swear it’ll be a full week before we venture out of the bedroom. I guess that tells you how I’m feeling right now.
Before I met you I was this sane, ordinary man who was content with his life and sure of his goals. Two weeks after I meet you, and I’m a completely different person. There’s a wedding band on my finger and I’m thinking about how nice it would be to become a father. I’ve even been toying with the idea of buying a house. What do you think? You can bet I do a lot of thinking about making love to my wife. Mostly I’m wondering what the hell I’m doing on the other side of the world.
I saw something yesterday that drove that point straight through my gut. We got orders to lend assistance to a Saudi oil tanker that had been hit by a Harpoon-type missile. One of our frigates pulled up alongside to help control the fire, and we sent a couple of Sea Kings with fire-fighting equipment and took their injured aboard. It really hit home that there could be trouble here, and this part of the world isn’t sitting around enjoying crumpets and tea. I’m not telling you this to worry you, Lindy. I needed to see that burning tanker to take care of some business matters I should have done a long time before now. If anything happens to me, I want you to know you’ll be well taken care of financially.
I’ve got to close this letter for now, but I’ll write more later. Lots more. I love you, Lindy. It frightens me how much.
Dearest Rush,
Reading your latest letter was the best thing that’s happened to me since our wedding. I’ve been feeling so confused and blue lately. After your letter, I felt like singing and dancing. I love you, husband. I don’t have a single lingering doubt.
Did you hear the shouts of glee all across America this morning? No, we haven’t landed on the moon or captured a Caribbean island. School started and those cries were the happy voices of mothers all over the land. At least, that’s what Sandy and Mary and several of the other navy wives told me today. I’ve gotten to be good friends with several of them. Did you know that Sissy Crawford’s real name isn’t Sissy? It’s something completely different, like Angela or Georgia. The other wives started calling her that because she hates it so much when Bill’s at sea, and she’s so sure everything’s going to go wrong that the women started calling her Sissy in a friendly, teasing way. The name stuck. I don’t know if I should tell you what they’ve been calling me. Actually it’s kind of embarrassing, but by the same token it’s true. Randy. Don’t worry. Susan made them stop. Good grief, we could all call each other that.
As for taking time off in December, you’ve got it, fellow!
It’s been over three months since you sailed…were deployed. Are you impressed with the navy lingo I’m picking up? Three months since we kissed; three months since we made love; three months since I’ve slept in your arms.
And another three to go.
I’ve got good news. I got a raise, which was a pleasant surprise. I’m working out well with Boeing and they seem to appreciate my obvious talents. I decided to put the extra money in a savings account so we’ll have a little something to fall back on when it’s time for me to give up working to stay home with the children. It’s difficult for me to imagine myself a mother when being a wife is still so new. I don’t think we need to rush into this parenting business—do you? I wish we’d talked about these matters before you left. I have no idea how you feel about starting a family. When you asked if I was pregnant, it didn’t exactly sound as if you’d have been pleased with the prospect if I had been.
Anyway, we’re halfway through the tour and we’ve both managed to survive thus far. Susan and I and a bunch of other navy wives are celebrating Halfway Night this weekend. I don’t know if I’m supposed to tell you this, so keep it under your hat because the other husbands are going to get insanely jealous. You, on the other hand, are sure to be cool-headed, mature and reasonable about this sort of thing, and I’m confident it isn’t going to bother you.
The nine of us are carpooling it to a Seattle nightclub to see some male strippers. Doesn’t that sound like fun? Susan and I have been looking forward to this night for weeks. In fact we’ve had the reservations since the first week in