by Linda Ellen
Steve met her wide-eyed stare for a moment, noting she seemed totally enthralled as she strived to picture and comprehend what he was describing. He continued, “Then, in the HOP, the bag plant, it’s like an industrial garment factory with rows and rows of over 1,500 fabric cutting and sewing machines. That’s where the cotton and silk bags are cut and sewn together. There are large areas where the bags are filled and big conveyors carry the material through the building.”
He paused, visualizing the layout as he had walked through on his rounds. “The explosives are kept in buildings that are situated a safe distance away. And let me tell you – they are very careful. The line bosses take their jobs very seriously and they don’t allow any tomfoolery. None. They’re strict –especially in the powder plant. Each employee is searched before every shift for any kind of matches or lighters. I’ve seen guys get fired on the spot for having one match in the cuff of their pants!”
“Goodness,” she murmured. “But…they’d have to be that strict. Imagine if somebody lit a match at the wrong place and wrong time – the whole thing could go up in a huge fireball!”
The worry in her eyes at that statement made him rush to reassure her. “They’d never let that happen. There are fire crews and firehouses with trucks and hoses positioned within minutes of every building. Safety is the number one item on everybody’s consciousness.”
That seemed to relieve her mind and she asked more questions.
“Well, they call it powder…I’m not sure why, because actually it’s not. Although it’s a bit like putting sugar in a bag to load a charge, the powder is actually pellets, some resembling a small cigarette butt, up to some that are two inches long and an inch in diameter. It depends on the size of the charge.”
“My, but it sounds complicated.”
“It is. But the workers are well trained and they know their jobs inside and out before they’re put on the lines. The amount of ammunition they produce everyday is mind-blowing. Believe me – if America can win the war on the strength of our ammo production alone, we’ve got it in the bag…so to speak.”
They laughed together at that.
“You really know a lot about your assigned post,” she purred in admiration, her eyes shimmering mesmerizingly in the firelight. They pulled him in and almost took his breath away.
He slowly reached out and fingered one of his discarded black checker pieces, wondering what she would do or say if he told her how he was feeling right then—that he was holding himself back from grabbing her and kissing her senseless. “Yeah, well. I didn’t until recently. That’s what comes from being stranded in an ammo factory for two weeks…when your heart wants to be somewhere else.”
“Mmm,” she murmured, her eyes glimmering with what looked to him like…satisfaction?
“And also…the incident with the saboteurs shook me up more than I wanted to admit. It made me analyze what my part in this war truly is. It made me realize I needed to buckle down and get serious…about a lot of things,” he added, a bit on the mysterious side, hoping she would put two and two together.
They settled down quietly then, each with their own thoughts as they contemplated the flames in the fireplace.
The wind continued to sling the rain against the surprisingly tough little cabin, but to the two people inside, it seemed as if they were safely tucked away inside a warm, protected little cave.
Mary June looked over at him and caught his eye. She smiled delicately, and he returned it, thinking that if he had to be stuck in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with a girl, he was sure glad it was her.
Then, the realization hit him right between the eyes. His heart had been dancing all around it, but now there was no denying… He was in love. It had snuck up on him – but sometime over the past few hours it was as if he had taken a leap off the Second Street Bridge and plunged down into deep water. He was wholeheartedly, irrevocably, and unshakably in love. He shook his head in amazement as the magnitude of the revelation rolled over him like a tank, and left him lying there in the mud, staring up at the clear blue sky.
“I’m so thankful we found this cabin when we did…imagine if we were out there,” Mary June gestured over her shoulder with a move of her head, “trying to find a place to get relief from the rain.” She gave a little shiver at the image her statement conjured.
Her words did more than make him shiver – they convicted him, big time. Earlier when they’d had it out on the tracks right before the storm hit, he’d told her he was sorry—but it had been a forced apology. Now…
Feeling the need to make things right, Steve moved the checkerboard out of the way and sat up. Taking one of her hands in both of his, he rubbed her knuckles gently with his thumbs. He slowly lifted it to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss there, before raising his eyes to meet hers.
“Mary June…I truly am sorry for getting us in this predicament. I let the memories of my lousy childhood, and then the flat tire, get to me, and it made me act like a horse’s rear-end. Then, the more you tried to reason with me, the more I stuck my head in the sand, until I was so far down into a hole, I was too ashamed to back myself out and face it—and you. But…I apologize.” He stared straight into her eyes, no teasing or mocking. “You’re right—if we hadn’t stumbled upon this little cabin, and stumbled is the truth of it, ’cause I sure hadn’t remembered it was even here—we’d be in a world of hurt right now. If you’d gotten sick or hurt because of me and my stubborn pride, I’d never forgive myself.”
He silently prayed a quick plea that she would see the veracity of his words.
“Forgive me?”
The connection between his eyes and hers never faltered as he watched her eyes begin to fill.
Mary June lay still, listening to Steve make his humble apology and if she’d been feeling any residual anger, it melted completely away under the intensity and heat of his declaration.
Earlier in the day, starting when he had first turned onto the wrong road, she had become increasingly sure that Steve Wheeler was not the kind of man that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, even though she had realized weeks before that she had truly fallen in love. Dozens of times during the long afternoon, she’d asked herself, Does he always act like this? Would I have to constantly watch everything I say and Heaven forbid I have the audacity of trying to ‘tell him how to drive’? For quite a while, the only thing she had wanted to do was find civilization, find somebody, and get away from him.
But now…his heartfelt words melted away every ill feeling her heart had accumulated and all of the former surges of attraction and affection came rushing back like a tidal wave.
God help her, but she adored this man! Everything about him drew her like a honeybee to a flower. Tenderness flooded her mind and body as she realized how much she cherished his voice, his eyes, everything about his features, his lips, his hands, even his sense of humor and his penchant for teasing—everything that made Steve who he was. Abstractly, she wondered how she could have ever thought she couldn’t tell him and Gene apart—goodness, they were SO different. Now, she knew what Viv had meant the day she said she would know Gene anywhere, anytime.
Mary June now recognized, looking back over the day and analyzing everything, that Steve truly had watched over her and protected her. During their long march on the tracks, he had even offered countless times to carry her, but she had mulishly refused his help. Yes, she admitted, she had been acting stubborn, too. And what had she griped at him about? His stubbornness. That thought made her almost laugh. Then, once they had found the cabin, he’d worked tirelessly to provide her not only with some measure of comfort and something filling to eat, but he’d kept her warm, dry, safe and content.
Oh but now, he was staring at her as if he were trying to see into her soul; caressing her hand and waiting for her to tell him she forgave him. Of course she did! What normal female would hold a grudge in the face of such an eloquent and heartfelt apology? She answered her own question—women who a
cted like that were termagants, nags and shrews of the worst kind, and didn’t deserve a good man like Steve. Women who acted like her mother…
She shook that thought away and focused again on the gorgeous man holding her hand. Oh, thank You, Lord, for allowing me to meet this wonderful man! And truthfully, she wasn’t frightened or nervous to be there alone with him. She knew at that moment that she could trust Stephen Orville Wheeler with her life – and with her virtue. Instinctively, she sensed that he would never force himself on her; would never do something that she didn’t give him expressed permission to do.
Now, the problem was…did she have the willpower to resist those sky-blue eyes of her corporal? Her corporal? Yes…yes, he’s MY corporal. But after I screeched at him like a fishwife for hours, I just hope he’s thinking of me as his girl…
She stared back into his eyes, hers filling with tears at his gentle confession. She swallowed and softly answered, “Of course, I forgive you. I’d actually done that hours ago…about the time you put the corned beef and beans on to cook,” she added with a light chuckle.
He laughed too, appearing immensely relieved, as if he’d truly thought she was going to say she would never forgive him. Wow, what a day for powerful emotions!
Suddenly, she wished he would kiss her…a thorough kiss, like they had shared on the stern of the Idlewild. But…is that a good idea, considering…?
She didn’t have long to ponder, as he began speaking again.
“Miss Mary June Harriman…I’ve fallen in love with you. And I’m hoping that you are feeling the same way… What say you?”
She didn’t have to think or wonder. With a sweet smile, she whispered, “I do Steve. I love you, too. I think I have…since our blind date at the Brown.”
Their magnetism was just too strong to resist, and seemingly of their own volition, their faces drew near to one another until their eyes slowly closed and their lips met…once, twice, three times…and then, he reached out and swept her closer, placing her on her back next to him as he hovered above, his lips working magic on hers, slanting, invading, conquering, and urging surrender…
Oh that man knew how to kiss! The things he was doing with those lips were completely intoxicating and magnificently passionate. Her whole world narrowed down to just the heat of his mouth, and the smooth face and lips, strong hands, firm chest and broad back of the man plying her with kisses. The warmth of his hands on her face and neck made her feel as if she had been sipping champagne—bubbles and fizz filled her consciousness, and made coherent thought increasingly difficult.
After many minutes of ethereal bliss, Mary June began to wonder again if this was such a good idea…
Did she have the willpower to stop him if he tried to go further?
More to the point…would he obey?
CHAPTER 17
The jeep lumbered along next to the railroad tracks; its two occupants wearing olive green cotton jackets cinched at the waist with utility belts, khaki trousers, and sturdy brown high-top boots. Straps attached to rifles slung over their shoulders and crossed their jacket fronts, and each wore a hard helmet and a black armband that sported the letters “MP”.
They both yawned as the vehicle rounded a curve in the forest, where two pairs of eyes immediately moved from scanning the rails for debris and storm damage to a bit of telltale smoke coming from the well-known abandoned cabin/trespassers hideout to the left. It was common knowledge that the cabin had been used in the past by an occasional hunter who thought he could sneak onto the nether reaches of the base to seek out game. However, only a few had actually been caught in the act.
They glanced at one another and matching grins slowly grew on their faces.
“Wanna break the monotony of track inspecting and have a little fun this morning?” one said to the other.
The driver sent his companion a wink. “Sure, why not? Put the fear ’a God into some trespassers.”
He allowed the jeep to quietly roll to a stop several yards away from the cabin where they silently bailed out and approached the small building.
One gave the other a nod as they gripped their rifles. The first raised the butt of his gun and pounded on the door, shouting, “You are trespassing on government property! Come out with your hands up!” followed instantly by the other shouldering his way through the unlatched door.
The MP’s came charging in, their weapons aimed and ready just as a squeal burst forth from the lips of a female wearing what looked like a man’s faded flannel shirt. As one, she and a man in uniform bolted straight up from where they had been laying spoon-fashion on a mattress in front of the fire, with the man on the outside as if to help keep her warm. An old patchwork quilt covered most of their torsos.
Their arms had wrapped around one another as two sets of wide eyes stared back at the intruders who had so brusquely awakened them from sleep.
The two MP’s, their rifles trained on the intruders in the cabin, let their mouths drop open as they blinked at the soldier. Then, they looked at the girl, and back at him.
Finally, the soldier who’d had the brilliant idea of scaring the crap out of some unfortunate interlopers asked hesitantly, “Sergeant Banks? Sir, what are you doing here, with—” He sputtered to a halt and let his gaze flick to the girl and back again, and all four people in the cabin were embarrassingly aware of what he didn’t say.
Steve shook his head and relaxed, releasing a soft laugh. He realized the MP thought he was Gene and that he was there in the cabin cheating on his fiancée. Obviously, the soldier knew his identical brother personally, and had seen Viv.
“It’s okay, men. I’m not Sergeant Banks. I just look like him.”
The MP’s gaped at one another before turning back to Steve. “You can say that again, Sergeant.”
“Actually…” Steve threw back the quilt so they could see the stripes on his shirtsleeve as he politely corrected, “It’s Corporal. Corporal Steve Wheeler. I…I haven’t quite risen to the heights my brother has…yet. This is Miss Mary June Harriman.”
“Oh yeah,” the second MP uttered quietly as he tipped his helmet at Mary June and then nudged his partner. “I remember hearing how the sarge found out he has two long-lost brothers. This must be one of them.”
At that, the two lowered their guns and loosened up as they watched the couple on the mattress make themselves presentable. Not that they were undressed. They had slept the night in their clothing, but as the early morning air had chilled, and their fire had burned down to practically nothing but embers since the last time Steve had thrown another log in the midst, they had snuggled together under the quilt.
Now, Steve could tell by the looks on their faces that the two men couldn’t help but speculate what had gone on during the long night. He figured each one was silently snickering as they imagined what they would have done, alone with a dish like Mary June…
The second soldier suddenly grinned as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. “You’re the one that nabbed that ring of spies across the river at the powder plant, right? Great job, that.”
Then the first MP volunteered, “We were inspecting the tracks for damage or debris after yesterday’s storm and saw smoke coming from the cabin, so we thought we’d come and roust out some trespassers.” Then with a snicker and a tip of his hard metal hat, he added, “Beggin’ your pardon, Miss Harriman.”
“It’s all right, Jenkins,” Having taken note that both were corporals, Steve addressed him by the nametag on his uniform. “I can’t tell you how glad we are to see you,” he turned his head to smile at his companion. She smiled back with relief and affection. Then, he turned back to the men and quipped, “You, uh…wouldn’t happen to have a gas can with you?”
The men looked at one another and back at Steve. “We do, at that.”
Steve smiled as he reached for his shoes and hastily put them on, then rose to his feet and leaned down to help Mary June stand. “Come my dear,” he crooned. “The cavalry has arrived.” Then he looke
d at her disheveled hair and down at her borrowed shirt and amended, “We’ll wait outside while you change.”
He gathered his jacket, cap, and his discarded tie, and followed the other men out the door, sending her a jaunty wink as he backed out and pulled it shut. Knowing the men would be able to see in the window by the door, he motioned them toward their waiting jeep.
“So, Wheeler, seems you had a good ol’ time in the storm last night, eh?” the one named Jenkins commented, elbowing Steve with a ribald laugh.
Nearly to the vehicle, Steve swung around to face them both. Leveling a look squarely in the eyes of first one and then the other, he said firmly, “Let me set you guys straight. We were on our way to Elizabethtown, to a family dinner with my brother—Sergeant Banks. Took a wrong turn, and ran out of gas,” he paused and sent a piercing sky-blue look at the second soldier, whose name tag read Stengler, just as the corporal opened his mouth to make a wisecrack. The man clamped his lips shut. Steve continued, “So when I realized we were on the back side of Knox, we were walking the tracks to get help when the sky opened up and started dumping rain. In seconds, she was soaked, so man, let me tell you, the lady and I were thanking God when we stumbled on that cabin.” His emphasis on a certain word spoke volumes and the MP’s gave him a nod of understanding when he added, “Once the storm made the temperature drop, it became a mighty chilly night and we had to do what we could to get dry and stay warm. And that’s all we did.”
Steve glanced back at their home away from home, picturing how Mary June had insisted they clean up after they had eaten their fill the night before. She’d made him get water in the big pot and they’d washed their dishes and straightened up for, in her words, the next lost and weary travelers who stumbled upon the place. With a fond smile, he informed their rescuers, “My companion for the evening is the best friend of Sergeant Banks’ fiancée, by the way. Both are girls above reproach, if you get my drift.”