Debbie Macomber's Navy Box Set: Navy WifeNavy BluesNavy BratNavy WomanNavy BabyNavy Husband

by Debbie Macomber

  “Brand?”

  “Hold on, sweetheart. Romano’s here, and he’s giving me hell.”

  “Giving you hell! Why?”

  Brand chuckled softly. “He seems to think it’s important you know I’ve been behaving like a jealous idiot ever since I got your letter.”

  “You’re jealous? Whatever for?” Erin found this piece of information nothing short of incredible. For all intents and purposes, she’d been living the life of a nun for three solid months.

  Brand hesitated before explaining, “It all started when I heard from your dad. He told me Aimee and her husband had split up and that you two women had gone out on the prowl. Then your letter arrived, and you claimed you’d tried to forget me, and I put two and two together—”

  “And came up with ten,” Erin teased, having trouble hiding her delight. “Let me assure you, you don’t have a thing to worry about.”

  “I can’t help the way I feel,” Brand admitted grudgingly. “No one’s ever mattered to me as much as you. My mind got to wandering, and I couldn’t help thinking…To make a long story short, I guess I’ve been a bit cross lately.”

  Once more the conversation was interrupted by Brand’s friend. “All right, all right,” Brand said. “According to half the men on the Blue Ridge I’ve been acting like a real bastard. Romano insisted I call you and find out exactly what’s been going on before I jump to conclusions.”

  “Were you really jealous?” Erin still had a difficult time believing it.

  “I already said I was,” he snapped.

  “If anyone should be worried, it’s me. You’re the one sailing to all those tropical islands. From what I remember, those native women are beautiful enough to turn any sailor’s head.”

  “I swear to you, Erin, I haven’t so much as spoken to a single woman since we left port. How can I when all I think about is you?”

  “Two and a half more months,” she reminded him.

  “I know. I can’t remember any tour taking so long.”

  “Me either. I’ve got a couple of letters off to you this week, and I baked some chocolate chip cookies. Dad always loved it when Mom mailed him cookies…. I thought maybe you would too. Old habits die hard, I guess.”

  “I picked up something for you while we were in port, but I’d rather give it to you in person. Do you mind waiting?”

  “No.” But Erin noted that neither of them was willing to discuss how long it would be before they’d see each other again. Erin couldn’t afford to fly off to Hawaii, especially after purchasing the piano. And Brand might not be able to get leave.

  “Listen, Irish eyes, I’ve got to go.”

  “I know,” she said, expelling a sigh of regret. “I’m so glad you phoned.”

  “I am, too. Write me.”

  “I will, I promise.”

  Yet both were reluctant to hang up the line until Erin heard Romano arguing with Brand in the background.

  “Hey, Face, aren’t you going to tell her you love her?”

  Romano’s question was followed by a short pause before Brand said, “She already knows.”

  Smiling to herself, Erin relaxed and grinned sheepishly. Yes, she did know, but it wouldn’t have done any harm to have heard him tell her one more time.

  Dearest Erin,

  The cookies arrived today. You never told me you could bake like this. They’re fabulous. I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you’d send me cookies.

  I don’t know what the men think of me. For the first part of the cruise I was an ill-tempered bear, snapping at everyone. These days I walk around wearing a silly grin, passing out cookies like a first-grade teacher to her favorite pupils.

  By the way, you haven’t mentioned the piano lately. Did you know I play? My mother forced me to take lessons for five years. I hated it then but have had reason to be grateful since.

  I’m sorry this is so short, but the mail’s due to be picked up anytime and I wanted to get this off so you’d know how much I appreciate the cookies.

  Miss you,

  Brand

  P.S. The next time you write, send me your picture.

  “Well?” Erin asked for the third time as Aimee reviewed the stack of snapshots. Brand had been hounding her for weeks for a photo. She’d tried to put him off, explaining that she really didn’t take a good picture, but he wouldn’t listen, claiming that if she didn’t send one he’d write and ask her family for a photo. It didn’t take much thinking on her part to realize that her dad would take delight in sending off a whole series of pictures, no doubt starting with naked baby shots. “Which one is the best?”

  Aimee shrugged laconically. “They’re all about the same.”

  “I know, but which one makes me look sexy and glamorous and every lieutenant’s dream?”

  Aimee’s questioning gaze rose steadily to meet Erin’s. “He asked for your picture, you know, not one of Madonna in her brass-tipped bra.”

  “I realize that, but I wanted something special, something that made me look attractive.”

  “You are attractive.”

  “More than attractive,” Erin added sheepishly. “Sexy.”

  “Erin, sweetheart, at the risk of offending you, I’d like to remind you we took these photos with my camera, which cost all of forty dollars. If you’re looking for someone to airbrush the finish, you should have contacted a professional.”

  “It’s just that—”

  “Hey, sweetie, you don’t need to explain anything to me.”

  Erin knew she didn’t, but she couldn’t help feeling a twinge of guilt. Aimee’s divorce was progressing smoothly enough. Matters, however, were starting to heat up now that the attorneys were involved.

  “So have you heard from the sailor boy lately?” Aimee asked with a hint of sarcasm. She sorted through the pictures again and selected three, setting them aside. Falling in love wasn’t a subject that interested Aimee these days. The divorce was proving to be far more painful than she’d ever expected.

  “He writes often.”

  “And you?”

  “I…I write often, too.”

  “How much longer before he’s back in Hawaii?”

  Erin had it figured out right down to the number of hours, although it would do her little good. “About six weeks.”

  Aimee nodded, but Erin wasn’t completely sure her friend had even heard her.

  “This one,” Aimee said unexpectedly, handing her the snapshot. Erin was standing in front of a rosebush in her yard, where all of the photos had been taken.

  She was wearing a dress in a soft shade of olive green, which nicely complemented her coloring. Her sleeves were rolled up past her elbow, and a narrow row of buttons ran down the length of the front. The outfit was complemented by a woven belt and a matching large-brimmed hat that shaded her face.

  “This one. Really?” Erin questioned. It wasn’t the one she would have chosen. Her eyes were lowered, unlike in the other photos, and her mouth was curved slightly upward in a subtle smile.

  “He’ll love it,” Aimee insisted.

  Dearest Erin,

  The picture arrived in today’s letter. I’d forgotten how beautiful you are. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. It made me miss you so much more than I do already. An empty feeling came over me. One so big an earthmover couldn’t fill it. I don’t know how to explain it. I’m not sure I can.

  All I know is I love you so much it frightens me. Somehow, someway, we’re going to come up with a solution to all this. We have to. I can’t bear to think of not having you in my life.

  I’m sorry to hear about Aimee and her husband and hope they can patch things up.

  And no, I haven’t seen any women in grass skirts lately. Haven’t you figured it out yet, my sweet Irish rose? I only have eyes for you.

  Love,

  Brand

  Brand taped Erin’s picture to the wall next to his berth. He’d seen other guys do the same thing and had never understood what led mature men to do something
so juvenile. Now he understood. Love did. The last person he saw when he went to sleep at night was Erin, and she was the first one to greet him each morning. Sometimes he’d linger a few moments extra just staring at her.

  He loved the picture. Just the way she was standing with her back to the sun, bright shreds of light folding golden arms around her. Her eyes were downcast, and she had the look of a woman longing to be kissed.

  Brand ran his tongue around the outside of his lips. It had been so long since he’d kissed Erin he’d almost forgotten what it was like.

  Almost forgotten.

  What he did remember was enough to prompt a pronounced tightness in his pants. Although she was wearing a very proper olive-green dress in the snapshot, the image of her standing in the sunlight reminded him of the morning she’d wandered into the kitchen in her flannel gown. She’d smelled of lavender and musk, and the yoke of her prim gown had been embroidered in satin threads that emphasized her perky breasts. Erin had beautiful breasts, and the sudden need Brand experienced to taste and feel them was enough to produce a harsh groan. His breath fled. It was time to take a cold shower, something he seemed to be doing a lot of lately. He pressed his fingers to his lips and then bounced them against Erin’s pictures, doubting that she had a clue how crazy he was about her.

  Dear Erin,

  You don’t know me. At least I don’t think we’ve ever met. I’m Ginger Romano. My husband, Alex, and Brand Davis are both aboard the Blue Ridge. By now you’ve probably heard about Brand’s promotion. He’s been promoted to full-grade lieutenant.

  Brand’s real popular with the guys, and they wanted to do something special for him. That’s why Alex wrote me about you. A few of Brand’s friends decided to get together and throw a surprise party for him to celebrate his promotion.

  Someone thought it might be fun if they hired a woman to jump out of a cake. That’s when Alex came up with a much better idea. They’re going to throw that party, and there’s going to be a woman there all right, but we want to surprise him with you. Everyone went together and pitched in and we have enough for your airplane ticket. You’re welcome to stay at the house here with Alex and me, if you don’t mind kids. We have three, and they’re a handful, but the welcome mat’s out and we’d really be pleased if you could.

  Let me know at your earliest opportunity if it’s the least bit feasible for you to arrive the second week of October. We’ll need to know soon, though, so we can book your flight. Please remember this is a surprise.

  I’m looking forward to meeting you.

  Sincerely,

  Ginger Romano

  “You’re going?” Aimee asked again, as if she still couldn’t believe Erin had agreed to this crazy, spur-of-the-moment plan. “You’re honestly going?”

  Maybe it was a crazy thing to do, but Erin couldn’t resist. She could never have afforded the airplane ticket herself, and this seemed her golden opportunity to spend time with Brand. They’d been apart so many months, and they’d trudged over a mountain range of emotions and doubts.

  She had his picture, but she wasn’t exactly sure she remembered what he looked like. He’d contacted her by phone only one time in the last six months. Was she flying to him? In a heartbeat!

  “I’m going,” she assured Aimee, tucking her curling iron in her suitcase.

  “I don’t suppose you need a friend to tag along for moral support?”

  “I do, but I can’t afford you,” Erin joked.

  “Don’t worry, I can’t afford me, either. Apparently no one can, not even Steve.” She was trying to make light of the facts with a joke, but it fell flat.

  “Don’t worry,” Erin promised, “I’ll be back in time for the settlement hearing. I won’t let you go through this alone.”

  Aimee’s eyes filled with appreciation. “Thanks. I’m counting on you.” She glanced around the bedroom one last time. “Well, it looks like you’ve got everything under control.” Aimee made it sound like a sharp contrast to her own life, and Erin struggled with a sudden twinge of guilt.

  “Hey,” Aimee said with a short, pathetic laugh, “don’t look so woebegone. It isn’t every day you get an opportunity like this. Enjoy it while you can. Play in the sun, relax, stroll along the beach. I’ll be fine…You don’t need to worry about little ol’ me.”

  “Aimee!”

  “All right, all right, I’m being ridiculous. I do want you to have fun. It’s just that I’m going to miss you something terrible.”

  “I’m going to miss you, too, but it’s only a week.”

  Erin glanced around one last time to be sure she’d packed everything she needed. Aimee was driving her to the airport and dropping her off. In less than two hours she’d be boarding the flight. Several hours later, she’d step off the Boeing 747 in Honolulu, where Ginger would be waiting to pick her up. She’d be leaving the cold rain of Seattle behind and disembarking in balmy eighty-degree sunshine.

  Not a bad trade.

  The flight seemed to take an eternity. Several times Erin had to pinch herself to make sure all this was real. She felt like a game-show winner who hadn’t expected anything more than the consolation prize. Yet here she was flying to Brand with seven uninterrupted days of heaven stretching out in front of her.

  The Blue Ridge was due to sail into Pearl Harbor sometime late Wednesday afternoon. The party was scheduled for Thursday evening. Ginger had taken care of most of the details, along with a couple of other navy wives and Lieutenant Commander Catherine Fredrickson, another of Brand’s friends. For the past month, Erin had been corresponding with Ginger, and she liked her immensely.

  The hardest part was keeping the fact that Erin was in Hawaii a secret until Thursday evening.

  * * *

  “I don’t know where the hell she could be,” Brand told Romano Thursday morning. “I tried phoning every hour all night. She didn’t mention she was going away.”

  “Maybe something came up.”

  “Obviously,” he barked. Brand was in a sour mood. For days he’d been looking forward to phoning Erin. It was the first thing he’d done when he’d walked into his apartment. The anticipation of hearing her voice was the only thing that had gotten him through those last few weeks. Rarely had he ever been more restless or more ready for a tour to end.

  Each night for three weeks he’d dreamed of listening to the soft catch in her voice when she realized it was him on the line. For the first time in six hellish months he could speak to her freely without someone standing over his shoulder the way Alex had in the Philippines. He hoped that when they spoke this time they might accomplish something.

  At the very least they could discuss what they had to do to see each other again.

  For several long months he’d thought of little else but being with Erin again. Yet, when the time arrived, she was gone. Vanished. No one seemed to know where she was.

  Brand had gone so far as to contact her family. Casey didn’t sound the least bit concerned, claiming Erin often had to travel out of town on business trips. But, now that Brand mentioned it, Casey did seem to remember Erin saying something about flying off to Spokane sometime soon.

  If that was the case, she hadn’t bothered to tell Brand.

  “How about going out for a couple of beers?” Romano suggested late that same afternoon.

  “Ginger’s going to let you?” he asked disbelievingly.

  “She won’t care. Bobby’s at soccer practice, and frankly, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

  Brand didn’t know what had gotten into his friend. Usually Alex couldn’t wait to get home to his family, and once he was back, he spent plenty of time with the youngsters. Brand had always admired the fact Romano was a good family man. He hoped when the time came he’d be as conscientious a husband and father.

  Brand considered his options. It was either hang around his apartment all night, hoping Erin would contact him, or visit the Officers’ Club and talk shop with a few old friends. The second option was by far the
most appealing, yet something elemental tugged at his heart. He hated the thought he might miss Erin, if she should happen to call.

  “Well?” Romano pressed impatiently. “What’s your choice?”

  “I don’t suppose one beer would hurt.”

  A twinkling light flashed in Alex’s sea green eyes. “Nope, I don’t think it will, either.”

  As soon as Brand had fastened his seat belt, Romano started the engine and drove past the Officers’ Club and outside the navy compound. “Hey, where are we going?”

  “For a beer,” Alex reminded him, doing his best to hide a grin.

  Something was up. Brand might not have a whole lot to do with Navy intelligence, but he didn’t need a master’s degree in human nature to determine that something was awry.

  “All right, Romano,” Brand insisted, “tell me what’s going on here.”

  “What makes you think anything is?”

  “Let’s start with the fact you’re free the second night we’re in port?”

  “All right, all right, if you must know, the guys went together and planned a small party in your honor, Lieutenant Davis.”

  Amused, Brand chuckled. He should have known a long time before now that his friends wouldn’t let that pass without making some kind of fuss. “Who’s in on this?”

  “Just about everyone. Only…”

  “Only what?”

  “There’s one small problem, if you want to call it that.” Romano hesitated. “It’s a little bit embarrassing, but the guys wanted to make this special, so they hired a woman.”

  “They did what?” Brand demanded.

  “Someone got the bright idea that it would be fun to see your face if they rolled in a cake and had a woman leap out of the top.”

  Brand slowly shook his head. “I certainly hope you’re kidding.”

  “Sorry, I’m not. I couldn’t talk them out of it.”

  Brand set his hand over his eyes and slowly shook his head. He should be amused by all this. “A woman?”

  “You got it, buddy.”

  Brand mulled over the information and chuckled. There wasn’t much he could do about it now, but he appreciated the warning. “Whatever happens, don’t ever let Erin find out about it, understand?”