Navy Husband

New York Times Bestselling Author

Debbie Macomber

www.mirabooks.co.uk

My niece wants me to get married!

I, Shana Berrie, am my sister’s official navy “parenting plan.” That means I’m in charge of adorable Jazmine until my sis returns. But—surprise!—nine-year-olds have lots of opinions, including ones on my love life (or lack thereof). Now she’s trying to set me up with our family friend, Adam Kennedy. Excuse me—Lieutenant Commander Adam Kennedy. So he’s great looking and very helpful (if dictatorial), but I am not in the market for a navy husband.

To Geri Krotow, Navy wife,

with appreciation for all her assistance.

Dream big dreams, my friend.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter One

“This is a joke—right?” Shana Berrie said uncertainly as she talked to her older sister, Ali, on the phone. Ali was the sensible one in the family. She—unlike Shana—wouldn’t have dreamed of packing up her entire life, buying a pizza and ice-cream parlor and starting over in a new city. Oh, no, only someone completely and utterly in need of a change—correction, a drastic change—would do something like that.

“I’m sorry, Shana, but you did agree to this parenting plan.”

Her sister was a Navy nurse stationed in San Diego, and several years ago, when she’d asked Shana to look after her niece if necessary, Shana had immediately said yes. It had seemed an unlikely prospect at the time, but that was before her sister became a widow.

“I did, didn’t I?” she muttered lamely as she stepped around a cardboard box. Her rental house was cluttered with the makings of her new life and the remnants of her old.

“It isn’t like I have any choice in the matter,” Ali pointed out.

“I know.” Pushing her thick, chestnut-colored hair away from her forehead, Shana leaned against the kitchen wall and slowly expelled her breath, hoping that would calm her pounding heart. “I said yes back then because you asked me to, but I don’t know anything about kids.”

“Jazmine’s great,” Ali assured her.

“I know, but—but…” she stammered. Shana wasn’t sure how to explain. “The thing is, I’m at a turning point in my own life and I’m probably not the best person for Jazmine.” Surely there was a relative on her brother-in-law’s side. Someone else, anyone else would be better than Shana, who was starting a new career after suffering a major romantic breakup. At the moment, her life still felt disorganized. Chaotic. Add a recently bereaved nine-year-old to the mix, and she didn’t know what might happen.

“This isn’t a choose-your-time type of situation,” Ali said. “I’m counting on you, and so is Jazmine.”

Shana nibbled on her lower lip, trapped between her doubts and her obligation to her widowed sister. “I’ll do it, of course, but I was just wondering if there was someone else….”

“There isn’t,” Ali said abruptly.

“Then it’s me.” Shana spoke with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, although she suspected it must sound pretty hollow. Shana hadn’t had much experience as an aunt, but she was going to get her chance to learn. She was about to become her niece’s primary caregiver while her sister went out to sea on an aircraft carrier for a six-month deployment.

Shana truly hadn’t expected this. When Ali filled out the “worldwide availability” form—with Shana’s name—she’d explained it was so the Navy had documentation proving Jazmine would have someone to take care of her at all times, ensuring that Ali was combat-ready. It had seemed quite routine, more of a formality than a possibility—and of course, Peter was alive then.

Ali had been in the Navy for twelve years and had never pulled sea duty before now. She’d traveled around the world with her husband, a Navy pilot, and their daughter. Then, two years ago, Peter had been killed in a training accident and everything changed.

Things had changed in Shana’s life, too, although not in the same unalterable and tragic way. Brad—Shana purposely put a halt to her thoughts. Brad was in the past. They were finished. Done. Kaput. She’d told her friends that she was so over him she had to force herself to remember his name. Who was he, again? That was how over him she was. Over. Over and out.

“I don’t have much time,” Ali was saying. “The Woodrow Wilson’s scheduled to leave soon. I’ll fly Jazmine up this weekend but I won’t be able to stay more than overnight.”

Shana swallowed a protest. For reasons of national security, Shana realized her sister couldn’t say any more about her schedule. But this weekend? She still had to finish unpacking. Furthermore, she’d only just started training with the former owners of her restaurant. Then it occurred to Shana that she might not be the only one upset about Ali’s sudden deployment. She could only guess at her niece’s reaction. “What does Jazmine have to say about all this?”

Ali’s hesitation told Shana everything she needed to know. “Oh, great,” she muttered under her breath. She remembered her own childhood and what her mother had termed her “attitude problem.” Shana had plenty of that, all right, and most of it was bad. Dealing with Jazmine’s moods would be payback, she supposed, for everything her poor mother had endured.

“To be honest, Jazmine isn’t too excited about the move.”

Who could blame her? The little girl barely knew Shana. The kid, a true child of the military, had lived on Whidbey Island in Washington State, then Italy and, following the accident that claimed her father’s life, had been shuffled to San Diego, California. They’d just settled into their Navy housing, and now they were about to leave that. In her nine years Jazmine had been moved from country to country, lost her father, and now her mother was shipping out for six long months. If that wasn’t enough, the poor kid was being foisted on Shana. No wonder she wasn’t thrilled.

“We’ll be fine,” Shana murmured, doing her best to sound positive. She didn’t know who she was kidding. Certainly not her sister—and not herself, either. This was going to be another in a long line of recent disasters, or life-changing events, as she preferred to call them.

“So it’s true you and Brad split up?” Ali asked with a degree of delicacy. She’d obviously been warned against bringing up his name.

“Brad?” Shana repeated as if she had no idea who her sister was talking about. “Oh, you mean Brad Moore. Yes, it’s over. We were finished quite a while ago, but either he forgot to tell me or I just wasn’t paying attention.”

“I’m so sorry,” Ali said.

The last thing Shana wanted was Ali’s sympathy. “Don’t worry, I’ve rebounded. Everything’s great. My life is fabulous, or it will be in short order. I’ve got everything under control.” Shana said all of this without taking a breath. If she said it often enough, she might actually start to believe it.

“When Mom told me that you’d decided to leave Portland and move to Seattle, I thought it was job-related at first. You never said a word.” She paused. “Did you move all those plants, too? You must have about a thousand.”

Shana laughed. “Hardly. But yes, I did. Moving was…a spontaneous decision.” That was putting it mildly. One weekend Shana had driven to Seattle to get away and to consider her relationship with Brad. She’d finally realized that it wasn’t going anywhere. For five years they’d been talking marriage. Wrong. She’d been talking marriage. Brad had managed to string her along with just enough interest to placate her. And she’d let him until…

Unexpectedly, Shana had stumbled on Brad having lunch with a business associate. This so-called associate just happened to be a willowy blonde with a figure that would stop a freight train. It was a business lunch, he’d claimed later, when Shana confronted him.

Yeah, sure—monkey business. Shana could be dense at times but she wasn’t blind, and she recognized this so-called associate as someone Brad had once introduced as Sylvia, an old flame. Apparently those embers were still very much alive and growing hotter by the minute, because as Shana watched, they’d exchanged a lengthy kiss in the parking lot and drove off together. She was embarrassed to admit she’d followed them. It didn’t take her long to see where they were headed. Brad’s town house—and she didn’t think they were there to discuss contracts or fire codes.

Even when confronted, Brad insisted his lunch date was a client. Any resemblance his associate had to Sylvia was purely coincidental. The more he defended himself, the more defensive he got, complaining that Shana was acting like a jealous shrew. He’d been outraged that she’d question his faithfulness when she was the one so often away, working as a sales rep for a large pharmaceutical company. He’d been so convincing that—just for a moment—she’d wondered if she might’ve been wrong. Only when she mentioned that she’d followed them to his town house did Brad show any hint of guilt or regret.

He’d glanced away then, and the righteous indignation had been replaced by a look of such sadness she had to resist the urge to comfort him. He was sorry, he’d said, so sorry. It had been a fling; it meant nothing. He couldn’t lose her. Shana was his life, the woman he intended to marry, the mother of his unborn children.

For a few days, he’d actually swayed her. Needing to sort out her feelings, Shana had driven to Seattle the next weekend. After five years with Brad she felt she knew him, but it now seemed quite clear that she didn’t. He wanted her back, he told her over and over. He was willing to do whatever it took to reconcile, to make this up to her. He suggested counseling, agreed to therapy, anything but losing her.

That weekend, Shana had engaged in some painful self-examination. She desperately wanted to believe the afternoon rendezvous with Sylvia was a onetime thing, but her head told her it wasn’t and that they’d been involved for months—or more.

It was while she sat in Lincoln Park in West Seattle, analyzing the last five years, that she concluded there was no going back. Her trust had been destroyed. She couldn’t build a life with Brad after this. In truth, their relationship had dead-ended three years ago. Maybe sooner; she could no longer tell. What Shana did recognize was that she’d been so caught up in loving Brad that she’d refused to see the signs.

“I was feeling pretty miserable,” Shana admitted to her sister. Wretched was a more accurate description, but she didn’t want to sound melodramatic. “I sat in that park in West Seattle, thinking.”

“In West Seattle? How’d you get there?”

Shana sighed loudly. “I took a wrong turn when I was trying to find the freeway.”

Ali laughed. “I should have guessed.”

“I ended up on this bridge and there wasn’t anyplace to turn around, so I followed the road, which led to a wonderful waterfront park.”

“The ice-cream parlor’s in the park?”

“No, it’s across the street. You know me and maple-nut ice cream. It’s the ultimate comfort food.” She tried to make a joke of it, but at the time she’d felt there wasn’t enough maple-nut ice cream in the world to see her through this misery.

“Brad drove you to maple nut?”

Shana snickered at Ali’s exaggerated horror. After her decision to break off the relationship, she’d grown angry. Okay, furious. She wanted out of this relationship, completely out, and living in the same city made that difficult.

“Actually, West Seattle is a charming little community. The ice-cream parlor had a For Sale sign in the window and I got to talking to the owners. They’re an older couple, sweet as can be and planning to retire. As I sat there, I thought it must be a nice place to work. How could anyone be unhappy surrounded by ice cream and pizza?”

“So you bought it? Shana, for heaven’s sake, what do you know about running any kind of restaurant?”

“Not much,” she said, “but I’ve worked in sales and with people all these years. I was ready for a break, and this seemed practically fated.”

“But how could you afford to buy an established business?”

Shana had an answer for that, too. “I had a chunk of cash in savings.” The money had originally been set aside for her wedding. Saving a hundred dollars a month and investing it carefully, she’d managed to double her money. Just then, she couldn’t think of a better way to spend it. Buying this business was impulsive and irrational but despite everything, it felt…right.

That Sunday in the park she’d admitted there would be no wedding, no honeymoon with Brad. Shana drew in her breath. She refused to think about it anymore. She’d entered a new phase of her life.

“It’s a cute place. You’ll like it,” she murmured. She had lots of ideas for fixing it up, making it hers. The Olsens had promised to help transfer ownership as seamlessly as possible.

“You rented a house?”

“That very same Sunday.” Once she’d made her decision, Shana had been on a mission and there was no stopping her. As luck would have it, there was a house two streets over that had just been vacated. The owner had recently painted it and installed new carpeting. Shana had taken one look around the 1950s-style bungalow with its small front porch and brick fireplace and declared it perfect. She’d given the rental agent a check immediately. Then she drove home, wrote a letter resigning her job—and phoned Brad. That conversation had been short, sweet and utterly satisfying.

“Making a move like this couldn’t have been easy,” Ali commiserated.

“You wouldn’t believe how easy it was,” Shana said gleefully. “I suppose you’re curious about what Brad had to say.” She was dying to tell her.

“Well…”

“I called him,” Shana said without waiting for Ali to respond, “and naturally he wanted to know where I’d been all weekend.”

“You told him?”

Shana grinned. “I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. He was pretty upset. He told me how worried he was, and how he’d spent the entire weekend calling me. He was afraid of what I might’ve done. As if I’d do something lethal over him,” she scoffed. Shana suspected that his concern was all for show, but none of that mattered now. “When he cooled down, I calmly explained that I’d gone for a drive.”

“A three-day drive,” Ali inserted.

“Right. Well, he got huffy, saying the least I could’ve done was let him know I’d made plans.” What came next was the best part. “So I told him I’d made plans for the rest of my life and they didn’t include him.”

Ali giggled and it sounded exactly the way it had when they were girls, sharing a bedroom. “What did he say then?”

“I don’t know. I hung up and started packing stuff in my apartment.”

“Didn’t he try to phone you back?”

“Not for the first couple of days. He e-mailed me on the third day and I immediately put a block on his name.” That must have infuriated him—not that Shana cared. Well, she did, a little. Okay, more than a little. Unfortunately she didn’t have the satisfaction of knowing what his reaction had been. In the past, she’d always been the one who patched any rift. That was her problem; she couldn’t stand conflict, so she’d done all the compromising and conciliating. Over the course of their relationship, Brad had come to expect her to make the first move. Well, no longer. She was finished. Brad Moore was history.

Instead of kicking herself for taking so long to see the light, she was moving ahead, starting over…and, to be on the safe side, giving up on men and relationships. At twenty-eight, she’d had her fill. Men weren’t worth the effort and the grief.

“I never was that fond of Brad,” Ali confessed.

“You might’ve said something.” Shana realized her tone was a little annoyed. In the five years she’d dated Brad, there’d certainly been opportunities for Ali to share her opinion.

“How could I? We just met once, and you seemed so keen on him.”

“If you’d stayed in one place longer, we might’ve gotten together more often.”

Ali’s sigh drifted over the phone. “That’s what happens when you’re in the Navy. They own your life. Now honestly, are you all right?”

Shana paused to consider the question. A second later, she gave Ali her answer. “Honestly? I feel great, and that’s the truth. Yes, this breakup hurt, but mostly I was angry with myself for not waking up sooner. I feel fabulous. It’s as if I’ve been released from a spell. I’ve got a whole new attitude toward men.”

Her sister didn’t say anything for a moment. “You might think you’re fine, but there’s a chance you’re not totally over Brad.”

“What do you mean?”

Again her sister hesitated. “I remember what it was like after Peter died. The shock and grief were overwhelming at first. I walked around in a fog for weeks.”

“This is different,” Shana insisted. “It’s less…important.”

“It is and it isn’t,” Ali fired right back.

“But you feel better now, don’t you?”

“Yes. One day, out of the blue, I discovered I could smile again. I could function. I had to. My daughter needed me. My patients needed me. I’ll always love Peter, though.” Her voice wavered but eventually regained strength.

“I’ll always love Peter, too,” Shana said, swallowing hard. “He was one of a kind.” Her brother-in-law had been a loving husband and father, and her heart ached for her sister even now. The situation with Brad didn’t compare.

“I’ll give you my flight information for this weekend,” Ali said, changing the subject.

Shana had nearly forgotten that she was about to become a substitute mother. “Oh, yeah. Let me find a pen.” Scrabbling through her purse, she dug one up and found a crumpled receipt she’d stuffed in there. Good—she could write on the back.

She was looking forward to some time with her sister. They saw each other so rarely, thanks to Ali’s career. This upcoming visit would be a brief one, but Shana hadn’t seen Ali—and Jazmine—since the funeral.

“You and Jazmine will do just fine,” Ali said warmly. “Jazmine’s a great kid, but be warned. She’s nine going on sixteen.”

“In what way?”

“Because she’s an only child, she’s rather…precocious. For instance, she’s reading at ninth-grade level. And the music she likes is sort of—well, you’ll see.”

“Thanks for warning me.”

“I’m sure this’ll be easy for you.”

Shana had her doubts. “If I remember correctly, that was what you told me when I asked if I could fly off the top bunk.”

“What did I know? I was only six,” Ali reminded her. “You’ve never forgiven me for that, have you?”

“I still remember how much it hurt to have the wind knocked out of me.” It felt the same way now. Despite the assurances she so freely handed out, Shana was still struggling to recover her equilibrium—to reinvent her life on new terms. No Brad, no steady paycheck, no familiar Portland neighborhood. Now, her niece was about to complicate the situation. The next six months should be very interesting, she thought. Very interesting indeed.

She vaguely recalled an old Chinese saying, something about living in interesting times. Unfortunately, she also recalled that it was intended as a curse, not a blessing.

Chapter Two

Alison Karas couldn’t help being concerned about leaving her nine-year-old daughter with her sister, Shana. This wasn’t a good time in Jazmine’s life, nor was it particularly opportune for Shana. Her sister sounded strong and confident, but Ali suspected otherwise. Despite Shana’s reassurances, she’d been badly shaken by her breakup with Brad, even though she’d initiated it. Jazmine hadn’t taken the news of this deployment well, and was reluctant to leave her newfound friends behind and move to Seattle.

But Ali really had no other option. Ideally, Jazmine would go to either set of grandparents, but in this case that wouldn’t work. After the sudden loss of her father ten years earlier, her mother hadn’t done well. She’d never recovered emotionally and was incapable of dealing with the demands of a young girl. Peter had been an only child and his parents had divorced when he was young. Both had gone on to other marriages and other children. Neither set of paternal grandparents had shown any great interest in Jazmine.

Jazmine wandered into Ali’s room just then and flopped down on the bed with all the enthusiasm of a slug.

“Are you packed?” Ali asked, her own suitcase open on the opposite end of the bed.

“No,” her daughter muttered. “This whole move is crap.”

“Jazmine, watch your mouth!” Ali refused to get into an argument with a nine-year-old. The truth was, she’d rather not ship out, either, but for Jazmine’s sake she put on a good front. This was the most difficult aspect of her life in the Navy. She was a widow and a mother, but she was also a Navy nurse, and her responsibilities in that regard were unavoidable. That was made abundantly clear the day she accepted her commission. When the Navy called, she answered. In fact, she wouldn’t have minded six months at sea except for her daughter.

“Uncle Adam lives in the Seattle area,” Ali reminded her. She’d been saving that tidbit, hoping the news would make her daughter feel more positive about this most recent upheaval in their lives.

“He’s in Everett,” Jazmine said, her voice apathetic.

“I understand that’s only thirty or forty minutes from Seattle.”

“It is?”

Her daughter revealed her first spark of interest since they’d learned of the transfer. “Does he know we’re coming?” She sat upright, eager now.

“Not yet.” Busy as she’d been, Ali hadn’t told Adam Kennedy—her husband’s best friend and Jazz’s godfather—that Jazmine would soon be living in Seattle.

“Then we have to tell him!”

“We will, all in due course,” Ali assured her.

“Do it now.” Her daughter leaped off the bed, sprinted into the living room and came back with the portable phone.

“I don’t have his number.” Ali hadn’t been thinking clearly; their phone directory had already been packed away and she simply didn’t have time to search for it.

“I do.” Once more her daughter made a mad dash out of the bedroom, returning a moment later. Breathless, Jazmine handed Ali a tidy slip of paper.

Ali unfolded it curiously and saw a phone number written by an adult hand.

“Uncle Adam sent it to me,” Jazmine explained. “He told me I could call him whenever I needed to talk. He said it didn’t matter what time of day or night I phoned, so call him, Mom. This is important.”

Ali resisted the urge to find out if her daughter had taken advantage of Adam’s offer before now and decided she probably had. For Jazmine, it was as if the sun rose and set on Peter’s friend. Lieutenant Commander Adam Kennedy had been a support to both of them since the accident that had abruptly taken Peter out of their lives.

It sounded so cut and dried to say a computer had malfunctioned aboard Peter’s F/A-18. He hadn’t had a chance to recover before the jet slammed into the ground. He’d died instantly, his life snuffed out in mere seconds. That was two years ago now, two very long years, and every day since, Peter had been with her. Her first thought was always of him and his image was the last one her mind released before she went to sleep at night. He was part of her. She saw him in Jazmine’s smile, in the three little lines that formed between the girl’s eyebrows when she frowned. Peter had done that, too. And their eyes were the exact same shade of brownish green.

As an SMO, or senior medical officer, Ali was familiar with death. What she didn’t know was how to deal with the aftermath of it. She still struggled and, as a result, she understood her sister’s pain. Yes, Shana’s breakup with Brad was different, and of a lesser magnitude, but it was a loss. In ending her relationship with him, Shana was also giving up a dream, one she’d held and cherished for five years. She was adjusting to a new version of her life and her future. Shana had flippantly dismissed any doubts or regrets about the breakup. Those would come later, like a sneak attack—probably when Shana least expected it. They had with Ali.

“Mom,” Jazmine cried, exasperated. “Dial!”

“Oh, sorry,” Ali murmured, punching out the number. An answering machine came on almost immediately.

“He isn’t there?” Jazmine asked, studying her. She didn’t hide her disappointment. It was doom and gloom all over again as she threw herself backward onto the bed, arms spread-eagled.

Ali left a message and asked him to get in touch.

“When do you think he’ll call?” Jazmine demanded impatiently.

“I don’t know, but I’ll make sure we get a chance to see him if it’s possible.”

“Of course it’s possible,” Jazmine argued. “He’ll want to see me. And you, too.”

Ali shrugged. “He might not be back by the time I need to fly out, but you’ll see him, don’t worry.”

Jazmine wouldn’t look at her. Instead she stared morosely at the ceiling, as if she didn’t have a friend in the world. The kid had moved any number of times and had always been a good sport about it, until now. Ali didn’t blame her for being upset, but there wasn’t anything she could do to change her orders.

“You’ll love living with your aunt Shana,” Alison said, trying a new tactic. “Did I tell you she has an ice-cream parlor? How much fun is that?”

Jazmine wasn’t impressed. “I don’t really know her.”

“This will be your opportunity to bond.”

Jazmine sighed. “I don’t want to bond with her.”

“You will eventually,” Ali said with forced brightness. Jazmine wasn’t fooled.

“I’m not glue, you know.”

Alison held back a smile. “We both need to make the best of this, Jazz. I don’t want to leave you any more than you want me to go.”

Her daughter scrambled to a sitting position. As her shoulders slumped, she nodded. “I know.”

“Your aunt Shana loves you.”

“Yippee, skippy.”

Alison tried again. “The ice-cream parlor is directly across the street from the park.”

“Yippee.”

“Jazmine!”

“I know, I know.”

Ali wrapped one arm around the girl’s shoulders. “The months will fly by. You’ll see.”

Jazmine shook her head. “No, they won’t,” she said adamantly, “and I have to change schools again. I hate that.”

Changing schools, especially this late in the year, would be difficult. In a few weeks, depending on the Seattle schedule, classes would be dismissed for the summer. Ali kissed the top of Jazmine’s head and closed her eyes. She had the distinct feeling her daughter was right. The next six months wouldn’t fly, they’d crawl. For all three of them…

Shana wanted children, someday, when the time was right. But she’d assumed she’d take on the role of motherhood the way everyone else did. She’d start with an infant and sort of grow into it—ease into being a parent gradually, learning as she went. Instead, she was about to get a crash course. She wondered if there were manuals to help with this kind of situation.

Pacing her living room, she paused long enough to check out the spare bedroom one last time. She’d added some welcoming touches for Jazmine’s benefit and hoped the stuffed teddy bear would appeal to her niece. Girls of any age liked stuffed animals, didn’t they? The bedspread, a fetching shade of pink with big white daisies, was new, as was the matching pink throw rug. She just hoped Jazmine would recognize that she was trying to make this work.

She wanted Jazmine to know she was willing to make an effort if the girl would meet her halfway. Still, Shana didn’t have a good feeling about it.

Her suspicions proved correct. When Ali arrived, it was immediately apparent that Jazmine wanted nothing to do with her aunt Shana. The nine-year-old was dressed in faded green fatigues and a camouflage army-green T-shirt. She sat on the sofa with a sullen look that discouraged conversation. Her long dark hair fell across her face. When she wasn’t glaring at Shana, she stared at the carpet as if inspecting it for loose fibers.

“I can’t tell you how good it is to see you,” Ali told Shana, turning to her daughter, obviously expecting Jazmine to echo the sentiment. The girl didn’t.

Shana moved into the kitchen, hoping for a private word with her sister. They hadn’t always been close. All through high school, they’d competed with each other. Ali had been the more academic of the two, while Shana had excelled in sports. From their father, a family physician, they’d both inherited a love of science and medicine. He’d died suddenly of a heart attack when Shana was twenty.

Within months, their lives were turned upside down. Their mother fell to pieces but by that time, Ali was in the Navy. Luckily, Shana was able to stay close to home and look after their mom, handle the legal paperwork and deal with the insurance, retirement funds and other responsibilities. Shana had attended college classes part-time and kept the household going. At twenty-two, she was hired by one of the up-and-coming pharmaceutical companies as a sales rep. The job suited her. Having spent a good part of her life around medical professionals, she was comfortable in that atmosphere. She was friendly and personable, well-liked by clients and colleagues. Within a few years, she’d risen to top sales representative in her division. The company had been sorry to see her go and had offered an impressive bonus to persuade her to stay. But Shana was ready for a change, in more ways than one.

The last time the sisters had been together was at Peter’s funeral. Shortly afterward, Ali had returned to Italy. Although she could have taken an assignment back in the States, Ali chose to finish her tour in Europe. As much as possible, she’d told Shana, she wanted Jazmine to remain in a familiar environment. A few months ago, she’d been transferred to San Diego, but no one had expected her to be stationed aboard the Woodrow Wilson, the newest and largest of the Navy’s aircraft carriers. According to her sister, this was a once-in-a-career assignment. Maybe, but in Shana’s opinion, the Navy had a lousy sense of timing.

“Jazmine doesn’t seem happy about being here,” Shana commented when they were out of earshot. She understood how the girl felt. The poor kid had enough turmoil in her life without having her mother disappear for six months.

“She’ll be fine.” Ali cast an anxious glance toward the living room as Shana took three sodas from the refrigerator.

“Sure she will,” Shana agreed, “but will I?”

Ali bit her lower lip and looked guilty. “There isn’t anyone else.”

“I know. These next six months will give Jazmine and me a chance to know each other,” Shana announced, stepping into the living room and offering Jazmine a soda. “Isn’t that right?”

The girl stared at the can as if it held nerve gas. “I don’t want to live with you.”

Well, surprise, surprise. Shana would never have guessed that.

“Jazmine!”

“No,” Shana said, stopping her sister from chastising the girl. “We should be honest with one another.” She put down Jazmine’s drink and sat on the opposite end of the sofa, dangling her own pop can in both hands. “This is going to be an experience for me, too. I haven’t been around kids your age all that much.”

“I can tell.” Jazmine frowned at the open door to her bedroom. “I hate pink.”

Shana had been afraid of that. “We can take it back and exchange it for something you like.”

“Where’d you get it? Barbies R Us?”

Shana laughed; the kid was witty. “Close, but we can check out the Army surplus store if you prefer.”

This comment warranted a half smile from Jazmine.

“We’ll manage,” Shana said with what she hoped sounded like confidence. “I realize I’ve got a lot to learn.”

“No kidding.”

“Jazmine,” Ali snapped in frustration, “the least you can do is try. Give your aunt credit for making an effort. You can do the same.”

“I am trying,” the girl snapped in return. “A pink bedroom and a teddy bear? Oh, puleeeze! She’s treating me like I’m in kindergarten instead of fourth grade.”

Shana had barely started this new venture and already she’d failed miserably. “We can exchange the bear, too,” she suggested. “Army surplus again?”

Her second attempt at being accommodating was less appreciated than the first. This time Jazmine didn’t even crack a smile.

Ali sat in the space between Shana and Jazmine and threw her arms over their shoulders. “If I’ve learned anything in the last few years, it’s that women have to stick together. I can’t be with you, Jazz. That’s all there is to it. I’m sorry, I wish things were different, but they aren’t. If you want, at the end of this deployment, I’ll resign my commission.”

Jazmine’s head rose abruptly. “You’d leave the Navy?”

Ali nodded. This was as much a surprise to Shana as it was to her niece. From all indications, Ali loved military life and had fit into it with comfort and ease.

“Now that your dad’s gone, my life isn’t the same anymore,” Ali continued. “I’m your mother and you’re far more important to me than any career, Navy or not. I won’t leave you again, Jazmine, and that’s a promise.”

At those words the girl burst into tears. Embarrassed, she hid her face in both hands, her shoulders shaking as Ali hugged her.

Ali seemed to be trying not to weep, but Shana had no such compunction. Tears slipped down her cheeks.

It would be so good to have her sister back again. If she had any say in the matter, Ali would move to Seattle so the two of them could be closer.

“If you get out of the Navy, does that mean you’ll marry Uncle Adam?” Jazmine asked with the excitement of a kid who’s just learned she’s about to receive the best gift of her life.

“Who’s Uncle Adam?” Did this mean her sister had managed to find two husbands while Shana had yet to find one? Ah, the old competitive urge was back in full swing.

“He was one of my dad’s best friends,” Jazmine supplied with more enthusiasm than she’d shown since she’d arrived. “He’s cute and funny and I think Mom should marry him.”

Raising one brow, Shana turned to her sister for an explanation. Ali had never mentioned anyone namedAdam.

“Uncle Adam is stationed in Everett. That’s close to here, right?” Jazmine demanded, looking to Shana for the answer.

“It’s a bit of a drive.” She wasn’t entirely sure, never having made the trip north of Seattle herself. “Less than an hour, I’d guess.”

“Uncle Adam will want to visit once he learns I’m here.”

“I’m sure he will,” Ali murmured, pressing her daughter’s head against her shoulder.

“You like this guy?” Shana asked her. Ali was decidedly closemouthed about him, which implied that she had some feelings for this friend of Peter’s.

“Of course Mom likes him,” Jazmine said when her mother didn’t respond. “So do I. He’s totally fabulous.”

Ali met Shana’s gaze and shrugged.

“Another pilot?” Shana murmured.

She shook her head. “He’s a Supply Officer. You’ll like him,” her sister was quick to say, as if this man might interest her romantically. No way. Shana had sworn off men and she was serious about that.

“He said I can talk to him anytime I want,” Jazmine went on. “I can phone him, can’t I?”

“Of course you can.” Shana was more curious than ever about this man her sister didn’t want to discuss.

Shana turned to gaze at Ali, silently pleading for more information. Her sister ignored her, which was infuriating. Clearly, Adam had already won over her niece; he must be the kind of guy who shopped at the army surplus store.

Chapter Three

First thing Monday morning, Shana drove Jazmine to Lewis and Clark Elementary School to enroll her. Shana had to admit her stomach was in knots. The school yard was jammed with kids, and a string of vehicles queued in front, taking turns dropping off students. Big yellow school buses belched out diesel fumes as they lumbered toward the parking lot behind the building.

Shana was fortunate to find an empty parking space. She accompanied Jazmine into the building, although the girl walked ahead of her—just far enough to suggest the two of them weren’t together.

The noise level inside the school reminded her of a rock concert and Shana felt the beginnings of a headache. Or maybe it was caused by all those students gathered in one place, staring at Jazmine and her.

The school bell rang and like magic, the halls emptied. Within seconds everyone disappeared behind various doors and silence descended. Ah, the power of a bell. It was as if she were Moses, and the Red Sea had parted so she could find her way to the Promised Land, or in this case, The Office.

Wordlessly Shana and Jazmine followed the signs to the principal’s domain. Jazmine was outwardly calm. She gave no sign of being ill at ease. Unlike Shana, who was on the verge of chewing off every fingernail she owned.

“This is no big deal,” Jazmine assured her, shifting the backpack she carried. It was the size one might take on a trek through the Himalayas. “I’ve done this plenty of times.”

“I don’t feel good just leaving you here.” They’d had all of one day together and while it was uncomfortable for them both, it hadn’t been nearly as bad as Shana had feared. It hadn’t been good, either.

When they took Ali to the airport, Shana had been the one in tears. Mother and daughter had hugged for an extra-long moment and then Ali was gone. It was Shana who did all the talking on the drive home. As soon as they were back at the rental house, Jazmine disappeared inside her bedroom and didn’t open the door for hours.

Dinner had been a series of attempts on Shana’s part to start a conversation, but her questions were met with either a grunt or a one-word reply. Shana got the message. After the first ten minutes, she said nothing. And nothing was what Jazmine seemed to appreciate most. They maintained an awkward silence and at the end of the meal, Jazmine delivered her plate to the kitchen, rinsed it off, stuck it in the dishwasher and returned to her room. The door closed and Shana hadn’t seen her again until this morning. Apparently kids this age treasured their privacy. Point taken. Lesson learned.

“This must be it,” Shana said, pointing at the door marked Office.

Jazmine murmured something unintelligible, shrugging off the backpack and letting the straps slip down her arms. Shana couldn’t imagine what she had in that monstrosity, but apparently it was as valuable to the child as Shana’s purse was to her.

“I was thinking you might want to wait a bit, you know,” Shana suggested, stammering, unable to identify her misgivings. “Not do this right away, I mean.” The students she saw in the hallway didn’t look particularly friendly. Jazmine was only nine, for heaven’s sake, and her mother was headed out to sea for half a year. Maybe she should homeschool her. Shana considered that option for all of half a second. First, it wouldn’t be home school; it would be ice-cream parlor school. The authorities would love that. And second, Shana was completely unqualified to teach her anything.

“I’ll be all right,” Jazmine said just loudly enough for Shana to hear.

Maybe so, but Shana wasn’t completely convinced she would be. This guardianship thing was even harder than it sounded. The thought of leaving her niece here actually made her feel ill.

Jazmine’s eyes narrowed accusingly. “I’m not a kid, you know.”

So nine-year-olds weren’t kids anymore? Could’ve fooled Shana, but rather than argue, she let the comment slide.

Enrolling Jazmine turned out to be surprisingly easy. After Shana completed a couple of forms and handed over a copy of her guardianship papers, it was done. Jazmine was led out of the office and into a classroom. Shana watched her go, forcing herself not to follow like a much-loved golden retriever.

“It’s your first time as a guardian?” the school secretary asked.

Shana nodded. “Jazmine’s been through a lot.” She resisted the urge to mention Peter’s death and the fact that Ali was out at sea. Instinctively she realized that the less anyone knew about these things, the better for Jazmine.

“She’ll fit right in,” the secretary assured her.

“I hope so.” But Shana wasn’t sure that was true. There were only a few weeks left of the school year. Just when Jazmine had managed to adjust, it would be time for summer break. And what would Shana do with her then? It was a question she couldn’t answer. Not yet, anyway.

With reluctance she walked back to her parked car and drove to Olsen’s Ice Cream and Pizza Parlor. She’d thought about changing the name, but the restaurant had been called this for the last thirty years. A new name might actually be a disadvantage, so she’d decided to keep everything the same for now.

Shana’s day went smoothly after her visit to the school. She was on her own now, her training with the Olsens finished. They insisted the secret to their pizza was the tomato sauce, made from their special recipe. That recipe had been kept secret for over thirty years. Only when the final papers had been signed was Shana allowed to have the recipe, which to her untrained eye looked fairly unspectacular. She was almost sure her mother used to make something similar for spaghetti and had gotten the recipe out of a “Dear Abby” column years ago.

There was a huge mixing machine and, following the Olsens’ example, she went into the shop each morning to mix up a batch of dough and let it rise. Once the dough had risen, it was put in the refrigerator, awaiting the day’s pizza orders. The restaurant opened at eleven and did a brisk lunch trade. How much or how little dough to make was complete guesswork. Shana’s biggest fear was that she’d run short. As a consequence she usually mixed too much. But she was learning.

At three o’clock, Shana found herself watching for the school bus. Jazmine was to be dropped off in front of the ice-cream parlor. From noon on, she’d constantly checked the time, wondering and worrying about her niece. The elementary students she’d seen looked like a rough crowd—okay, maybe not the first-and second-graders, but the ones in the fifth and sixth grades, who were giants compared to Jazmine. Shana just hoped the girl could hold her own.

Business was constant—people waiting to catch ferries, high-school students, retired folk, tourists. Shana planned to hire a part-time employee soon. Another idea she had was to introduce soup to the menu. She’d already experimented with a number of mixes, both liquid and dry, and hadn’t found anything that impressed her. Shana was leaning toward making her own from scratch but her experience in cooking large batches was limited.

A bus rolled into view and Shana instantly went on alert. Sure enough, Jazmine stepped off, wearing a frown, and marched inside. Without a word to Shana, she slid into a booth.

“Well,” Shana said, unable to disguise her anxiety, “how was it?”

Jazmine shrugged.

“Oh.” Her niece wasn’t exactly forthcoming with details. Thinking fast, Shana asked the questions her mother had bombarded her with every day after school. “What did you learn? Anything interesting?”

Jazmine shook her head.

“Did you make any new friends?”

Jazmine scowled up at her. “No.”

That was said emphatically enough for Shana to surmise that things hadn’t gone well. “I see.” Glancing over her shoulder, Shana sighed. “Are you hungry? I could make you a pizza.”

“No, thanks.”

The bell above the door rang and a customer entered, moving directly to the ice-cream case. Shana slipped behind the counter and waited patiently until the woman had made her selection. As she scooped chocolate chip–mint ice cream into a waffle cone, she realized something was different about Jazmine. Not until her customer left did she figure out what it was.

“Jazz,” she said, startled, “where’s your backpack?”

Her niece didn’t answer.

“Did you forget it at school? We could run by to pick it up if you want.” Not until the parlor closed at six, but she didn’t mention that. During the summer it wouldn’t be until eight o’clock; she didn’t mention that, either.

Jazmine scowled even more ferociously.

Shana hadn’t known how much fury a nine-year-old girl’s eyes could convey. Her niece’s anger seemed to be focused solely on Shana. The unfairness of it struck her, but any attempt at conversation was instantly blocked.

It was obvious that someone had taken the backpack from Jazmine. No wonder the girl wasn’t in a happy frame of mind.

Feeling wretched and helpless, Shana slid into the booth across from her niece. She didn’t say anything for several minutes, then gently squeezed Jazmine’s hand. “I am so sorry.”

Jazmine shrugged as if it was no big thing, but it was and Shana felt at a loss. Without her niece’s knowing, she’d speak to the principal in the morning and see what could be done. She guessed it’d happened on the bus or off school grounds.

“Can I use your phone?” Jazmine asked.

“Of course.”

Jazmine’s eyes fleetingly met hers as she pulled a piece of paper from her hip pocket. “It’s long distance.”

“You’re not calling Paris, are you?”

The question evoked an almost-smile. “No.”

“Sure, go ahead.” Shana gestured toward the phone on the back wall in the kitchen.

Jazmine thanked her with a faint smile. This counted as profuse appreciation and Shana was nearly overwhelmed by gratitude. Despite their shaky beginning she was starting to reach this kid.

“I’m phoning my uncle Adam,” Jazmine announced. “He’ll know what to do.”

This uncle Adam seemed to have all the answers. She hadn’t even met him and already she didn’t like him. No one could be that perfect.

On Monday afternoon, Adam Kennedy opened the door to his apartment near Everett Naval Station, glad to be home. He’d just been released from the naval hospital, where he’d recently undergone rotator cuff surgery. His shoulder throbbed and he felt so light-headed he had to brace his hand against the wall in order to steady himself. He’d be fine in a couple of days, but at the moment he was still shaky.

The apartment was dark with the drapes pulled, but he didn’t have the energy to walk across the room and open them.

It wouldn’t be like this if he had a wife, who’d be able to look after him while he felt so weak. This wasn’t the first time that thought had occurred to Adam. He’d never intended to be a thirty-two-year-old bachelor.

Adam sank into his favorite chair and winced at the pain that shot down his arm. Leaning his head back against the cushion, he closed his eyes and envisioned what his life would be like if he was married. A wife would be fussing over him now, acting concerned and looking for ways to make him comfortable. Granted, if comfort was all he wanted, he could pay for it. A wife—well, having a wife meant companionship and sharing things. Like a bed…It also involved that frightening word, love.

If he was married now, she’d be asking how he felt and bringing him tea and caring about him. The fantasy filled his mind and he found himself smiling. What he needed was the right woman. His track record in that department left a great deal to be desired.

He’d started out fine. When he graduated from college he’d been engaged, but while he was in Officer Candidate School, Melanie had a sudden change of heart. Actually, she still wanted to get married, just not to him. The tearful scene in which she confessed that she’d fallen in love with someone else wasn’t a memory he wanted to reminisce over, especially now. Suffice it to say, his ego had taken a major beating. In the long run, though, Melanie wasn’t that great a loss. If she had a roving eye this early in their relationship, it didn’t bode well for the lengthy separations a Navy career would demand of their marriage.

The thing was, Adam wanted children. One of his proudest moments was when Peter had asked him to be Jazmine’s godfather. He took his duties seriously and loved that little girl, and he’d felt especially protective of her since his friend’s death. He hadn’t heard from her in a while and wondered how she was doing after the recent move to San Diego. He’d have to get in touch with her soon.

Adam had envied Peter his marriage. He’d never seen two people more in love with each other or better suited. They were about as perfect a match as possible. Adam suspected that fact had been a detriment to him in his own quest for a relationship. He kept looking for a woman as well suited to him as Ali had been to his friend. If such a woman existed, Adam hadn’t found her, and he’d about given up. It wasn’t Ali he wanted, but a woman who was his equal in all the ways Ali had been Peter’s. A woman with brains and courage and heart. At this stage he’d take two out of three. Ali had brought out the best in Peter; she’d made a good man better.

A sense of sadness came over him as he thought about Peter. Adam had a couple of younger brothers, Sam and Doug, and the three of them were close, but Peter and Adam had been even closer. They’d met in OCS, Officer Candidate School, kept in contact afterward and later were stationed together in Italy. During weekend holidays, Peter and Ali had him over for countless dinners. The three of them had sat on their balcony in the Italian countryside drinking wine and talking well into the night. Those were some of the happiest memories of his life.

Then Peter had been killed. Adam had been a witness to the accident that claimed his best friend’s life. He still had nightmares about it and experienced the same rush of horror, anger, frustration he’d felt at the time. He’d gone with the Casualty Assistance Counseling Officer to tell Ali that her husband was dead. In his heart, he’d promised Peter that he’d look out for both Ali and Jazz but the Navy hadn’t made it easy.

Ali was currently stationed at the hospital in San Diego and he was in Everett. He phoned at least once a month to check up on them and Jazmine called him every now and then when she needed to talk. He always enjoyed their conversations. Peter would be proud of both the women in his life, he mused. Jazmine was a great kid and Ali was a wonderful mother.

Adam noticed the blinking light on his answering machine. He knew there were more messages than he had the patience or endurance to deal with just yet. He’d leave it until morning when he had a fresh supply of energy.

He sighed. He wasn’t used to feeling like this—despondent and weary. Coming home to an empty apartment underlined a truth he didn’t want to acknowledge. Lieutenant Commander Adam Kennedy was lonely.

He stared blankly across the room, half toying with the notion of a romantic relationship with Ali. It didn’t take him more than a second to realize it wouldn’t work. He loved Ali—like a sister. Try as he might, he couldn’t seem to view her as a marriage prospect. She was his best friend’s widow, a woman he admired, a woman he thought of as family.

Yet…he wanted what she’d had, what she and Peter had shared, and the deep contentment their marriage had brought them.

By morning, he would’ve forgotten all these yearnings, he told himself. He’d lived alone so long now that he should certainly be accustomed to his own company. When he was at sea, it was a different story, since he was constantly surrounded by others. As a Supply Officer he was normally stationed aboard the Benjamin Franklin. Unfortunately the Franklin was currently headed toward the Persian Gulf. Until his shoulder healed, he’d be twiddling his thumbs behind some desk and hating it.

After a while Adam felt better. His head had stopped spinning and the ache in his shoulder wasn’t quite as intense. It would be easy to close his eyes and sleep but if he slept now, he’d spend the whole night staring at the ceiling.

A wife.

It was something to consider. Maybe he should resume his efforts to meet someone, with marriage in mind. The time was right. His parents wanted more grandchildren and he was certainly willing to do his part. According to Ali, he was an excellent candidate for a husband and father. She’d tried any number of times to fix him up, but nothing had ever come of her match-making efforts.

A wife.

He relaxed and smiled. He was ready. All he needed now was the woman.

Chapter Four

Lieutenant Commander Alison Karas had been assigned as senior medical officer aboard the USS Woodrow Wilson. As much as she wanted to be with Jazmine and as difficult as it had been to leave her daughter with Shana, Ali was determined to fulfill her duty to the Navy. During her twelve-year career, she’d never been stationed aboard a ship. Before Jazmine was born, she’d done everything in her limited power to get such an assignment, but it hadn’t happened.

So far, she’d served in a number of military hospitals. And now, when she least wanted sea duty, that was exactly what she got. Still, she loved the Navy with the same intensity her husband had.

Her quarters were shared with another woman officer. There hadn’t been time to exchange more than a brief greeting before they’d each begun their respective assignments. The crew was preparing to set out to sea. Within a couple of days, the jets would fly in from Naval air stations all over the country. It was standard procedure for the F-14s to link up with the aircraft carrier.

Unlikely though it was, she hoped for an opportunity to watch, since the pilots’ precision and skill were so impressive. Pilots were a special breed, as she well knew. Peter had wanted to fly jets from the time he was in grade school, according to his mother.

She smiled sadly at the thought of her husband. The pain of his loss remained sharp and—as always—Ali hoped he hadn’t suffered. There must have been a moment of sheer terror when he realized he wouldn’t be able to recover. She tried not to think of that.

Trite as it sounded, she’d learned that life does go on. It hadn’t seemed possible in the beginning, when she’d been blinded by her grief. She was surprised to discover that everything continued as it had before. Classes were held in Jazmine’s school; the radio still played silly love songs. People drove their cars and ate meals and bickered with each other. Ali hadn’t been able to understand how life as she’d once known it could go on as though nothing had changed.

Jazmine was in good hands. Shana would look after her well. Ali needed to reassure herself of that several times a day. Leaving her daughter had been traumatic, but for Jazmine’s sake, Ali had tried not to let her emotions show. Before she returned to San Diego, they’d talked, and Ali had a heart-to-heart with Shana, too.

She was still a little worried about Shana, but once they’d had a chance to really discuss the situation, Ali accepted that this impulsive change in her sister’s life was probably the best thing she’d done in years. Shana needed a fresh start. The ice-cream parlor was charming and would undoubtedly be a big success. Jazmine had a bit of an attitude, but that wouldn’t last long. And it helped that Adam was close by. The biggest disappointment of her stay was that they hadn’t been able to reach him. Once he checked his messages, she knew he’d get in touch with Jazmine.

Ali found her daughter’s suggestion that she marry Adam downright amusing. Ali thought the world of her husband’s best friend, but there was no romantic spark on either side. What was particularly interesting was the fact that Jazmine seemed ready to discuss bringing another man into their lives.

Despite that, Ali had no intention of remarrying. She hadn’t mentioned that to either her sister or Jazmine because it sounded too melodramatic. And both of them would argue with her. But a man like Peter only came around once in a lifetime, and she wasn’t pressing her luck. If, by chance, she were to consider remarrying, she was determined not to fall in love with a Navy man. She’d already had one Navy husband and she wasn’t going to try for two.

Ali had never removed her wedding band. After all these years, that ring represented perhaps the most significant part of her life. And although shipboard romances were strictly prohibited, it was a form of emotional protection, too. As far as her shipmates knew, she was married and that was the impression she wanted to give.

After spending her shift in the sick bay checking supplies, Ali went to the wardroom, where the officers dined. Two other women officers were in the room but their table was full and they seemed engrossed in conversation. Sitting alone at a corner table, she felt self-conscious, although she rather enjoyed watching the men and women as they chatted. In a few weeks, she’d probably be sitting with one of those groups. Life aboard a carrier was new to her, but eventually it would become familiar and even comfortable.

Just as she was finishing her dinner, the group that included the other women was joined by Commander Dillon. Ali read his name tag as he walked past her table. He acknowledged her with a stiff nod, which she returned. From the reception he received, it was clear that he was well-liked and respected by his fellow officers. She had no idea what his duty assignment might be.

Without being obvious—at least she hoped she wasn’t—she studied Dillon. He was tall and lean with dark hair graying at the temples, which led her to believe he must be in his early to midforties. His most striking feature was his intense blue eyes. To her chagrin, she found herself looking at his ring finger and noticed it was bare. Not that it meant anything. Wedding rings were dangerous aboard ship, although she chose to wear hers. More than once Ali had seen fingers severed as a result of a wedding band caught in machinery.

As soon as she’d finished her coffee, Ali went back to her work space at the clinic and logged on to the Internet to write Shana and Jazmine a short note. Her sister and daughter would be anxious to hear from her after her first full day at sea.

Sent: May 19

From: Alison.Karas@woodrowwilson.navy.mil

To: Shana@mindsprung.com

Subject: Hello!

Dear Shana and Jazmine,

Just checking in to see how things are going with you two. It’s a little crazy around here and I’m still finding my sea legs. Not to worry, though.

Hey, Jazz, I was thinking you should help your aunt come up with ideas for ice-cream sundaes. Remember how we invented our own versions last summer? Hot fudge, marshmallow topping and crushed graham crackers? You called it the Give Me More Sundae. Not bad.

Shana, be sure to look over Jazz’s homework, especially the math. Okay, okay, I’ll stop worrying. Send me an e-mail now and then, okay? I’m waiting with bated breath to hear how you two are surviving.

Love ya.

Ali (That’s Mom to you, Jazz!)

It wasn’t much of a message, but Ali was tired and ready to turn in for the night. As she started back to her quarters, she met Commander Dillon in the long narrow passageway. She nodded and stepped aside in order to allow him to pass.

He paused as he read her badge. “Karas?”

“Yes, sir.”

“At ease.” He glanced down at her left hand. “Your husband is Navy?”

“Yes, sir.” She looked self-consciously at her wedding ring. “He—” She’d begun to explain that she was a widow, then stopped abruptly. Rather than make eye contact, she stared into the bulkhead.

“This is your first time aboard the Woodrow Wilson?” The question was casual, conversational in tone.

She nodded again. “This is my first time on any ship. I’m wondering how long it’s going to take before I get used to it.” She laughed as she said this, because being on an aircraft carrier was so much like being in a building. Every now and then, Ali had to remind herself that she was actually aboard a ship.

Commander Dillon’s eyes narrowed slightly as he smiled. “You’ll be fine.”

“I know I will. Thank you, sir.”

That very moment, an alarm rang for a fire drill. All sailors were to report immediately to their assigned stations. A sailor rushed past Ali and jolted her. In an effort to get out of his way, she tripped and fell hard against Commander Dillon, startling them both. The commander stumbled backward but caught himself. Instinctively he reached out and grabbed her shoulders, catching her before she lost her balance and toppled sideways. Stunned, they immediately grew still.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, shocked at the instant physical reaction she’d experienced at his touch. It had been an innocent enough situation and meant nothing. Yet it told Ali a truth she’d forgotten. She was a woman. And, almost against her will, was attracted to a man other than Peter.

He muttered something under his breath, but she didn’t hear what he said and frankly she was grateful. Without another word, they hurried in opposite directions.

Ali’s face burned with mortification, but not because she’d nearly fallen into Commander Dillon. When her breasts grazed him and he’d reached out to catch her, he could have pulled her to him and kissed her and she wouldn’t have made a single protest. Her face burned, and she knew she was in serious trouble. No, it was just the close proximity to all these men. At least that was what Ali told herself. It wasn’t the commander; it could’ve been any man, but even as that thought went through her mind, she knew it was a lie. She worried that the commander might somehow know what she’d been feeling. That mortified her even more.

The scene replayed itself in her head during the fire drill and afterward, when she retired to her quarters. Once she was alone, Ali found a pen and paper. It was one thing to send Jazmine an e-mail but a letter was a tangible object that her daughter could touch and hold and keep. She knew Jazmine would find comfort in reading a note Ali had actually written.

When Ali had first started dating Peter, they’d exchanged long letters during each separation. She treasured those letters and savored them all, even more so now that he was gone.

On the night of their wedding anniversary last year, while Jazmine was at a slumber party, Ali had unearthed a stack and reread each one. She quickly surrendered to self-pity, but she had every reason in the world to feel sorry for herself, she decided, and didn’t hold back. That night, spent alone in her bedroom, grieving, weeping and angry, had been an epiphany for her. It was as if something inside her—a wall of pretense and stoicism—had broken wide-open, and her pain had gushed forth. She believed it was at that point that she’d begun to heal.

Oh, she’d cried before then, but this time, on the day that would have been her twelfth wedding anniversary, she’d wept as if it was the end of the world.

By midnight she’d fallen asleep on top of the bed with Peter’s letters surrounding her. Thankfully Jazmine hadn’t been witness to this emotional breakdown. Her daughter had known the significance of the date, however, and had given her mother a handmade anniversary card the following afternoon. Ali would always love that sweet card. After she’d read it, they’d hugged each other for a long time. Jazmine had revealed sensitivity and compassion, and Ali realized she’d done her daughter a grave disservice.

All those months after Peter’s death, Ali had tried to shield Jazmine from her own pain. She’d encouraged the child to grieve, helped her deal with the loss of her father as much as possible. Yet in protecting Jazmine, Ali hadn’t allowed her daughter to see that she was suffering. She hadn’t allowed Jazmine to comfort her, which would have brought comfort to Jazmine, too.

Later that same day, after dinner, Ali had shared a few of Peter’s letters with Jazmine. It was the first time they’d really talked about him since his death. Before then, each seemed afraid to say more than a few words for fear of upsetting the other. Ali learned how much Jazmine needed to talk about Peter. The girl delighted in each tidbit, each detail her mother supplied. Ali answered countless questions about their first meeting, their courtship and their wedding day. Jazmine must’ve heard the story of their first date a dozen times and never seemed to tire of it.

Once Ali’s reserve was down, not a night passed without Jazmine’s asking about Peter. As a young child, her daughter had loved bedtime stories and listening to Ali read. At nine she suddenly wanted her mother to put her to bed again. It was so out of character for her gutsy, sassy daughter that it’d taken Ali a couple of nights to figure out what Jazmine really wanted, and that was to talk about her father.

In retrospect Ali recognized that those months of closeness had helped prepare Jazmine for this long separation. Ali didn’t think she could have left her with Shana otherwise.

Shana. An involuntary smile flashed across her face as she leaned back in the desk chair. These next six months would either make or break her strong-willed younger sister. She’d taken on a lot all at once. Buying this restaurant on impulse was so unlike her. Shana preferred to have things planned out, down to the smallest detail. Not only that, this new venture was a real switch for her after her sales position.

If there was anything to be grateful for in Shana’s sudden move to Seattle, it was the fact that Brad Moore was out of her life. Ali had only met him once, during a brief visit home, but he’d struck her as sleazy, and she hadn’t been surprised to hear about his duplicity. Ali wondered how he’d managed to deceive her sister all this time, but whatever charms he possessed had worked about four and a half years longer than they should have. She supposed that, like most people, Shana had only seen what she’d wanted to see.

Before she returned to San Diego, Ali and Shana were able to spend a few hours together. Jazmine was asleep and the two sisters sat on the bed in Shana’s room talking.

She’d seen how hurt Shana was by Brad’s unfaithfulness. In an effort to comfort her sister, Ali had suggested Shana try to meet someone else as quickly as possible.

Her sister hadn’t taken kindly to the suggestion. In fact, she hadn’t been shy about sharing her feelings with regard to the male of the species. Shana claimed she was finished with men.

“You’re overreacting,” Ali had told her.

“And you’re being ridiculous.” Sitting with her knees drawn, Shana shook her head. “The absolute last thing I want to do now is get involved again. I was ‘involved’ for the last five years and all I got out of that relationship, besides a lot of pain, is two crystal champagne glasses Brad bought me. He said we’d use them at our wedding.” Not that he’d actually given her an engagement ring or set the date. “Those glasses are still in the box. If he’d thought of it, he probably would’ve asked for them back.”

“You feel that way about men now, but you won’t always.”

Shana frowned. “You’re one to talk. I don’t see you looking for a new relationship.”

“Okay, fine, neither of us is interested in men.”

“Permanently,” Shana insisted.

Ali had laughed then and said, “Speak for yourself.”

Funny, as she reviewed that conversation, Commander Dillon came to mind. It was unlikely that she’d see him on a regular basis; with a crew of five thousand on this ship, their paths wouldn’t cross often. Ali wasn’t entirely sure why, but she felt that was probably a good thing.

Chapter Five

The next few days were intense for Shana. She insisted on driving Jazmine to school, and every morning she joined the long line of parents dropping off their kids at the grade school. If Jazmine appreciated her efforts to build a rapport between them, she gave no indication of it. The most animation she’d witnessed in the girl had been after Monday’s lengthy telephone conversation with her uncle Adam.

Shana, her aunt, a blood relative, was simply Shana, but Adam Kennedy, family friend, was Uncle Adam. The uncle part was uttered with near-reverence.

Okay, so she was jealous. Shana admitted it. While she struggled to gain ground with her niece, Jazmine droned on about this interloper.

Tuesday afternoon, the school bus again let Jazmine off in front of the ice-cream parlor. Her niece had dragged herself into the shop, as though it demanded all her energy just to open the door. Then she’d slipped onto one of the barstools and lain her head on her folded arms.

Wednesday afternoon, Shana watched the school bus approach and the doors glide open. Sure enough, Jazmine was there, but this time she leaped off the bus and hurried toward the restaurant.

Shana stopped and stared. No, it couldn’t be. But it was. Jazmine had her backpack. From the size and apparent weight of it, nothing seemed to be missing, either.

The instant Jazmine stepped inside, Shana blurted out, “You’ve got your backpack.” It probably would’ve been better to keep her mouth shut and let Jazmine tell her, but she’d been too shocked.

“I know.” Jazmine dumped her backpack on the floor and hopped onto the barstool with a Bugs Bunny bounce, planting her elbows on the counter. “Can I have some ice cream?”

Taken aback, Shana blinked. “Who are you and what have you done with my niece?”

“Very funny.”

Shana laughed and reached for the ice-cream scoop. “Cone or dish?”

“Dish. Make it two scoops. Bubblegum and strawberry.” She paused, her face momentarily serious. “Oh—and thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Bending over the freezer, Shana rolled the hard ice cream into a generous ball. “Well,” she said when she couldn’t stand it any longer. “The least you can do is tell me what happened.”

“With what?” Jazmine asked, then giggled like the nine-year-old she was. “I don’t know if you noticed or not, but I was pretty upset Monday afternoon.”

“Really,” Shana said, playing dumb.

“Two girls cornered me in the playground. One of them distracted me, and the other ran off with my backpack.”

Shana clenched her jaw, trying to hide her anger. As Jazmine’s legal guardian, she wanted these girls’ names and addresses. She’d personally see to it that they were marched into the principal’s office and reprimanded. On second thought, their parents should be summoned to the school for a confrontation with the authorities. Perhaps it would be best to bring in the police, as well.

“How’d you get it back?” Shana had given up scooping ice cream.

Looking more than a little pleased with herself, Jazmine straightened her shoulders and grinned. “Uncle Adam told me I should talk to them.”

Wasn’t that brilliant. Had she been asked, Shana would’ve told Jazmine the same thing.

“He said I should tell them it was really unfortunate, but it didn’t seem like we could be friends and I was hoping to get to know them.” This was uttered in the softest, sweetest tones Shana had ever heard from the girl.

“They fell for it?”

Jazmine’s eyes widened. “I meant it. At first I thought they were losers but they’re actually pretty cool. I think they just wanted to see what I carried around with me.”

Frankly Shana was curious herself.

“Once they looked inside, they were willing to give it back.”

“You’re not missing anything?”

Jazmine shook her head.

“Great.” Muttering under her breath, Shana dipped the scoop into the blue bubblegum-flavored ice cream. The bell above the door rang, but intent on her task, Shana didn’t raise her head.

“I’ll have some of that myself,” a male voice said.

“Uncle Adam!” Jazmine shrieked. Her niece whirled around so fast she nearly fell off the stool.

Hearing his name was all the incentive Shana needed to glance up. She did just in time to watch Jazmine throw her arms around a man dressed casually in slacks and a shirt. From the top of his military haircut to the bottom of his feet, this man was Navy, with or without his uniform. His arm was in a sling and he grimaced when Jazmine grabbed hold of him but didn’t discourage her hug. From the near-hysterical happiness the girl displayed, a passing stranger might think Shana had been holding Jazmine hostage.

“You must be Ali’s sister,” he said, smiling broadly at Shana.

She forced a smile in return. She’d been prepared to dislike him on sight. In fact, she’d never even met him and was already jealous of the relationship he had with Jazmine. Now he was standing right in front of her—and she found her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. He seemed to be waiting for her to reply.

“Yes, hi,” she said and dropped the metal scoop into the water container, sloshing liquid over the edges. Wiping her wet hand on her white apron, she managed another slight smile. “Yes, I’m Ali’s sister.”

On closer inspection, she saw that he was tall and apparently very fit. Some might find his looks appealing, but Shana decided she didn’t. Brad was just as tall and equally fit—from spending hours in a gym every week, no doubt admiring himself in all the mirrors. Adam’s hair was a deep chestnut shade, similar to her own. No. Not chestnut, she decided next, nothing that distinguished. His was plain brown. He might’ve been considered handsome if not for those small, beady eyes. Well, they weren’t exactly small, more average, she supposed, trying to be as objective as she could. He hugged Jazmine and looked at Shana and—no.

But he did. He looked at Shana and winked. The man had the audacity to flirt with her. It was outrageous. This was the very man Jazmine wanted her mother to marry. The man whose praises she’d sung for two full days until Shana thought she’d scream if she heard his name one more time.

“I’m Adam Kennedy.” He extended his free right hand.

She offered her left hand because it was dry and nodded politely. “You mean Uncle Adam.” She hoped he caught the sarcastic inflection in her voice.

He grinned as if he knew how much that irritated her. Okay, now she had to admit it. When he smiled he wasn’t ordinary-looking at all. In fact, some women—not her, but others who were less jaded—might even be attracted to him. That she could even entertain the remote possibility of finding a man attractive was upsetting. Wasn’t it only a few days ago that she’d declared to her sister that she was completely and utterly off men? And now here she was, feeling all shaky inside and acting like a girl closer to Jazmine’s age than her own. This was pathetic.

In an attempt to cover her reaction, Shana handed Jazmine the bowl of ice cream with its two heaping scoops.

“Uncle Adam wants one, too,” Jazmine said excitedly, and then turned to him. “What happened to your arm?” she asked, her eyes wide with concern. “Did you break it?”

“Nothing as dramatic as that,” he said, elevating the arm, which was tucked protectively in a sling. “I had a problem with my shoulder, but that’s been taken care of now.”

Jazmine didn’t seem convinced. “You’re going to be all right, aren’t you?”

“I’ll be fine before you know it.”

“Good,” Jazmine said; she seemed reassured now. Taking Adam by the hand, she led him across the restaurant to a booth.

Shana could hear Jazmine whispering up a storm, but hard as she strained, she couldn’t hear what was being said. Working as fast as her arm muscles would allow, she hurriedly dished up a second bowl of ice cream. When she’d bought this business, no one had mentioned how hard ice cream could be. She was developing some impressive biceps.

She smiled as she carried the second dish over to their booth and hoped he enjoyed the bright teal-blue bubblegum ice cream. After she’d set it down in front of him, she waited. She wasn’t sure why she was lingering.

Jazmine beamed with joy. Seeing her niece this happy about anything made Shana feel a pang of regret. Doing her best to swallow her pride, she continued to stand there, unable to think of a thing to say.

Her niece glanced up as if noticing her for the first time. “I was telling Uncle Adam about my backpack. He’s the one who said those other girls just wanted to be friends. I didn’t believe him, but he was right.”

“Yes, he was.” Shana might have been able to fade into the background then if Adam hadn’t chosen that moment to turn and smile at her. Ignoring him would be easy if only he’d stop smiling, dammit.

“The girls gave it back?” Adam’s gaze returned to Jazmine.

Her niece nodded. “Madison asked me to sit next to her at lunch today and I did.”

Adam reached across the table and the two exchanged a high five. “That’s great!”

“Can I get you anything else?” Shana asked, feeling like a third wheel. These two apparently had a lot to discuss, and no one needed to tell her she was in the way. Besides, she had a business to run. Several customers had come in; at the moment they were studying the list of ice-cream flavors but she’d have to attend to them soon.

“Nothing, thanks.” He dipped his plastic spoon into the ice cream. Then, without giving her any warning, he looked at Shana again and their eyes met. Shana felt the breath freeze in her lungs. He seemed to really see her, and something about her seemed to catch him unawares. His brow wrinkled as though he was sure he knew her from somewhere else, but couldn’t place her.

“How long can you stay?” her niece asked.

Adam turned his attention back to Jazmine.

Shana waited, curious to know the answer herself.

“Just a couple of hours.”

“Two hours!” Jazmine didn’t bother to hide her disappointment.

“I’ve got to get back to base for a meeting.”

“Right,” Shana said, diving into the conversation. “He has to go back to Everett. We wouldn’t want to detain him, now would we?” She didn’t mean to sound so pleased about sending him on his way, but she wanted him out of there. Shana disliked how he made her feel—as if…as if she was on the brink of some important personal discovery. Like she’d told her sister, she was off men. For good. Okay, for a year. It would take that long to get Brad out of her system, she figured. Now, all of a sudden, there was this man, this uncle Adam, whose smiles made her feel hot, then cold. That wasn’t a good sensation for her to be having. It contradicted everything she’d been saying—and it made her uncomfortable.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.