Navy Rules

by Geri Krotow

  “Over there! Don’t you hear him?”

  Winnie followed Krista’s gesture and saw Sam nearly a quarter of a mile away, his front paws on a tree trunk. His yips carried across the field.

  “Is it a bird?” Winnie lifted Maeve to her hip and started walking, Krista behind her. Max followed more slowly. Winnie couldn’t bear to look at the anguish on his face.

  “No, Mom, it’s a cat. It ran up a tree and Sam saw it and went nuts. He even tried to climb the tree after it.”

  “Great.”

  “Down, Momma. Down.”

  “Not right now, Maeve. We have got to get to Sam.”

  “I’ve got her.” Max’s strong hands took Maeve from her hip before Winnie had time to come up with a response. Winnie didn’t hesitate as she broke into a jog.

  “Sam!” The wind tore her words away but she knew the dog heard her. He’d been trained on her voice.

  Good dog that Sam was, he pricked up his ears at her call, and sat down on his haunches by front of the tree.

  The soccer fields abutted a recreational vehicle and RV park, where travelers and tourists kept their homes-on-wheels for a few hours or several days as they took in the beauty of Oak Harbor.

  Winnie’s apprehension was realized when a blue-haired woman scurried across the parking lot, cell phone in hand.

  “Your dog chased my cat up that tree. She’s afraid of heights!”

  Winnie took a deep breath. If the worst thing this woman had to worry about was her cat…

  Stop it. You’d be the same if it was Sam.

  “I’m sorry, we’ll help you get your cat down.” Winnie didn’t ask the obvious: What the hell was her cat doing outside in a strange town? And she didn’t point out that Sam had found, not chased, her cat.

  Winnie looked over her shoulder at the tree and at Sam. Max and Maeve had joined them, and Max’s neck was exposed as he stared up into the branches.

  Her hand itched to stroke his nape, to massage his temples. To tell him she was sorry.

  “What’s your cat’s name?”

  “Henry the Eighth.”

  “We’ll get Henry back down, even if we have to call the fire department.”

  “It’s ‘Henry the Eighth.’ Not ‘Henry.’” The woman’s lower lip jutted and showed the faintest hint of a tremor.

  Are you kidding me?

  “No worries. We’ll get him back in your arms in no time.” Winnie didn’t want another trauma on her hands.

  “Sam!” Sam responded by quickly trotting over and sitting down next to the woman’s feet. He looked up at Winnie with complete alertness. Winnie swore he winked at her.

  Damn dog.

  “Sam, stay.” Winnie turned to the woman, whose expression was already softening even as she tried to keep up a brave front.

  “What’s your name, ma’am?”

  “Dolores.”

  “I’m Winnie. Sam, stay with Dolores.” She conveyed her alpha status through her eyes but also gave Sam an extra pat the head. It was her silent way of letting Sam know that he was under strict orders.

  She went over to Max and the girls. “Where is this cat?”

  “Take a look. He’s to the right of the crow’s nest.”

  Winnie leaned over and Max’s hand was on her shoulder, his voice in her ear.

  “Look up the main trunk. See where the knot is? Now look over to the left. There’s the crow’s nest. See the next branch, on the right?”

  Winnie nodded. She thought she deserved a prize for not reacting to Max’s nearness, especially so soon after she’d blown their relationship to smithereens. She shivered again.

  “Cold?” Max’s taunt was unmistakable.

  “Mom, how can you be cold? It’s hot as heck out here in the sun.” Krista brought her back to reality. She wasn’t alone with Max, and her girls were watching every move.

  “Just from sweating after that run, I guess,” she murmured as she kept scanning the tree. “Oh. Oh, my gosh!”

  “Yeah, he gives fat cat new meaning.”

  Henry the Eighth deserved his name. Even from fifty feet below it was clear that he was huge. A big mass of fluffy white and maybe gray fur splayed out from the boughs of the old tree.

  “How on earth…?” Winnie knew that even the fire department might not be able to get him down.

  “I have someone I can call.” Max continued to balance Maeve on his hip while he fished in his pocket. He made short work of dialing and his Naval Officer voice took over.

  “It’s Max. I’ve got a bit of a problem down here at City Beach. Huge cat in a very tall tree. Can you help?” He listened for a moment.

  “Roger.” Max shoved his phone back in his pocket.

  His gaze met Winnie’s. All business. “Ten minutes.”

  “Will the cat jump and hurt himself?” Krista asked anxiously.

  “Probably not. I doubt he’ll budge.” He glanced at Winnie as if to imply that Henry the Eighth wasn’t the only stubborn creature around.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  MILES SHOWED UP IN A blaze of glory. He rode into the RV parking lot on his Harley and Max couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. Miles was his own man, always had been.

  He also loved animals and had been known as the dog whisperer in his combat unit. What few people knew about Miles was that he’d lost his working dog when he lost his leg. The dog saved his life—he alerted to the IED but it detonated before it could be disarmed. One step closer for Miles, and he would’ve died in the desert with his beloved companion.

  “Warrant!”

  “Yo, boss.” Miles had left his helmet on his bike, along with his gloves. He strolled up to the group at the base of the tree and raised an eyebrow at Max. “These are a lot of people to disappoint, boss.”

  “You can do it. Your talents are infamous.”

  Miles let out a short laugh and gazed up at the tree.

  Max held his breath.

  “Who are you and what do you think you’re going to do?” An unfamiliar angry voice pierced the silence.

  Max turned to see an attractive brunette with a protective arm around Dolores as she glared at Miles.

  He ignored her. He just kept looking up at the tree as if measuring the firepower of the enemy.

  “Is it your cat, too?” God Bless Winnie, who stepped in to defuse the situation.

  “No, it’s my mother’s cat.” The woman gestured toward Dolores. There didn’t appear to be any family resemblance.

  “I’m Winnie.”

  “Roanna.”

  “This is Max.” She lightly touched Max’s upper arm. “And his friend…”

  “Warrant. That is, Miles.” Max nodded at Miles, who was in his save-the-cat frame of mind and didn’t respond.

  “Who is this guy?” Roanna had apparently observed the same thing they did. Miles was unreachable as he focused on Henry the Eighth.

  “My colleague. We’re both in the Navy,” Max said in an authoritative voice.

  “So am I. Funny, I’ve never seen you around here.” It was a simple statement but her doubt was evident.

  “We’ve both been deployed quite a bit.” Max kept his face impassive. “Miles is an expert dog-handler and has a way with animals.”

  “That’s great, Max, but in case you haven’t noticed, it’s my mother’s cat up in that tree. A dog could never climb that high!”

  “That’s not accurate. A trained combat canine can scale walls and buttresses no man could ever do on his own.” Miles’s voice interrupted them.

  He hadn’t missed a word, and now his gaze was on Roanna. Was Max crazy or did he see them both straighten as they sized each other up? Roanna frowned. Miles held his ground, looking down his nose at a woman nearly a foot shorter than he was.

  “You should know better than to let your cat get out. And maybe we haven’t met because there’s about twenty thousand active-duty folks on the island.”

  Max had only known Roanna for a minute or two but he’d swear she lo
oked like she was going to explode all over Miles. He tried not to grin.

  “My mother is visiting in her RV. I live in town. My dog hates cats, so Henry the Eighth stays in Mom’s RV—if it’s any of your business. And I don’t need a demographic lesson, Warrant.”

  “You can call me Miles. The safety of this animal is now my business. If you want me to help. Or we can call out the fire department and your mother can be presented with a nice bill from the town.”

  “I can afford to pay the bill, but—”

  “Ro, honey, no. Let the man get Henry the Eighth.” Dolores admonished her daughter as no one else had dared to.

  Roanna squeezed her mother’s shoulders. “Okay, Mom, we’ll give it a try.” The look she threw Miles, however, was every bit as icy as her tone had been.

  “With your permission, I’ll make every effort to get your cat down.” Miles met her anger head on.

  She nodded abruptly and Miles turned back toward the tree. Max had no doubt Miles would get the fat cat out, but he had no idea how he’d do it.

  “He’s got to be almost sixty feet up,” Max murmured, keeping his eyes on the cat, not revealing that he was having a conversation with Miles.

  “Yeah, he’s in a pickle all right. But I’ll get him down.”

  Miles was dressed in a T-shirt, leather jacket and jeans. He shed his jacket and put his arms around the tree.

  “It’s sturdy enough. Wait here, will you?” He didn’t glance at Max but went back to his bike and opened the storage compartment.

  “What’s he going to do? Pull a trampoline out of there for the cat to jump on?” Winnie’s comment made Max smile but Winnie didn’t know Miles.

  “I’ve learned never to underestimate him.”

  “Uncle Max, is he going to shoot the cat down?” Krista’s voice carried and before Max could respond, Roanna and her mother visibly jerked.

  “No, no, he’s not going to do anything of the sort,” Max reassured everyone.

  “Sam, Sam!” Maeve held her hands out to Sam, who’d obediently taken his position at the foot of the tree in a down-stay.

  “It’s okay, honey.” Max jostled to maintain his grip on the child.

  “I’ll take her. You help Miles.” Winnie took Maeve from him and walked away, then she let her down to run off some steam.

  Miles walked up with an assortment of climbing equipment.

  “You rappel?”

  “And climb.”

  “Since—” Miles had never mentioned rock-climbing with his prosthetic device.

  “Yes, since I lost my real leg. But this one is just as good.”

  “Okay, whatever you say.”

  “Watch my back, will you, boss?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Krista can you take Sam away from here? I don’t want any extra commotion.”

  “But I want to see him get the cat!”

  “I hear you, Krista. But I’ve got to stand guard for him and I can’t take Sam. Your mother has Maeve.”

  “Oh, all right. C’mon, Sam.” Krista’s sulky teenage expression would have been comical if Max wasn’t so annoyed by her initial refusal.

  She’s a kid, not a sailor.

  He let out a breath. And this was Miles’s show, not his. Hell, if it’d been up to him, he’d have sided with Roanna and called the Oak Harbor fire department.

  He chanced a quick look at Winnie. She was standing several feet away, swinging Maeve between her legs. But she glanced up as if she felt him watching her. Winnie’s eyes met his and after a moment she smiled.

  * * *

  WINNIE WASN’T SURE WHAT to think about Max’s friend Miles. They were both in the Navy and she assumed they’d known each other when they were in the war. But Miles didn’t act like the kind of guy either Max or Tom would have hung out with. Miles or “Warrant” seemed a lot more relaxed and ready to let life roll whichever way it needed to. She didn’t bother to ask if Miles was indeed a “Warrant” in the Navy—a Chief Warrant Officer. It didn’t matter.

  She liked his smile and his practical manner. He was attractive—downright hot. A fact that Roanna hadn’t missed, if her surreptitious glances were anything to go by.

  While Miles went to work assessing how to rescue Henry the Eighth, she played with Maeve.

  And watched Max.

  He caught her staring at him and she sucked in her breath.

  “Wheeeee!” Maeve squealed as Winnie swung her up and then back down. Winnie was grateful for the excuse to look away from Max. But not soon enough… He smiled back at her.

  Her stomach fluttered—the type of flutter that always preceded her bouts of anxiety. There was no longer any reason to panic, though. He knew Maeve was his daughter and had accepted it, reveled in it. Most of the time, he even appeared to have forgiven her.

  His manner with Krista was miraculous. He could stop a teenage sulk in midstride and even elicit a giggle.

  He’d kept their relationship where it needed to be, except for his comment today.

  Max fit into their family too easily… .

  As she swung Maeve down low again, her eyes caught Max’s sneakered feet. She straightened up and held Maeve close. Maeve twisted to see him.

  “Daaaad!”

  Winnie’s heart stopped or felt as if it did. Then it started back, thumping like Sam’s tail on the hardwood floor.

  Max’s reaction was equally surprised but full of a joy that she’d never witnessed in him before.

  “Maeve, honey! Yes, I’m your daddy.” He reached out his arms and Winnie let go as he scooped her up.

  “Well, she knows who you are, no question.”

  “Yes, she does, don’t you, sweetie pie?” Max looked at Maeve as if memorizing her every feature.

  Winnie smiled in spite of herself. After all that Max had been through, after all they’d been through together, he deserved this happiness.

  She just didn’t want his happiness to involve any emotional risk on her part.

  Impossible.

  “Well, should we go see how Miles is doing?” she suggested.

  “Since I told him I’d have his back, yes, we’d better.”

  * * *

  KRISTA SCRATCHED SAM behind the ear. “We’ve both been told to stay away, Sammy.” She loved Sam. He understood her moods. Unlike Mom, who acted like she was supposed to stay young forever. Or even Uncle Max, who said he wanted to get to know her and be there for her, but really, who was he kidding? If he hadn’t found out that Maeve was his kid, he wouldn’t be hanging out with them.

  Sam barked.

  “It’s okay, boy. We’ve got to wait it out.” She looked in the direction Sam had barked. That friend of Uncle Max’s had climbed halfway up the tree to get the stupid cat.

  Krista sighed. “I don’t think the cat’s stupid, not really. I just wish he hadn’t gone up there. You found him, didn’t you, boy? Good dog.”

  Krista loved how Sam leaned his weight against her as they sat and watched the show.

  Uncle Max and Mom were standing near each other. She saw their lips moving, so she knew they were talking. But she couldn’t tell from their gestures or positions what the conversation was about. Maeve was sitting on the ground.

  “If Mom wasn’t so stupid, Sam, she’d see that Uncle Max is perfect for our family.”

  Sam panted in the sunshine, his coat shiny and clean.

  “Are you hot, boy? Let’s get you some water.” She stood and walked Sam over to the park’s dog water fountain. Sam drank straight from the fountain, noisily lapping up the water.

  Krista wanted to walk closer to the scene, but she couldn’t take Sam over there. Not until the cat was down and back in the arms of that old lady.

  Krista felt sorry for the woman. She looked confused and very angry at Sam.

  “You didn’t chase him up there. Nope, you just noticed he was there. You actually saved him.” She had a sudden thought—maybe Sam could bring their family together. Uncle Max wasn’t seeing him for therapy an
ymore, but he and Sam were buddies now.

  “You need another guy in the house, don’t you? Fat chance of that with Mom around.” She sat down next to him again and they waited.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  WINNIE STOOD BESIDE MAX, Maeve in her arms. Maeve wanted to be with Max, of course, but since Max was Miles’s backup, it wasn’t an option.

  She shielded her eyes with her free hand and looked up into the branches. Miles had shimmied up the tree without a problem, as though he did it every day.

  Thank God for military training.

  If Henry the Eighth didn’t make it back to his owner in the next few minutes Winnie was afraid there’d be a medical emergency. Possibly two—Henry’s owner would stroke out and her daughter would assault Miles, then probably come after Sam.

  “You’ve got it. I’m right here, holding steady.” Max had a set of rappelling ropes in his hands and his eyes never left Miles.

  Winnie held her breath as she watched Miles loop his rope around a thick bough and pull it tight. Now he could make a grab for Henry the Eighth.

  The cat stared down at him as if to say, “Come one inch closer and I’ll go even higher.”

  This could be a long afternoon.

  “How can we be sure he knows what he’s doing?” Roanna fretted next to her mother.

  Winnie offered her a smile as she extricated Maeve’s hand from her curls. “He sure knows how to climb a tree. I’m guessing he’ll be able to bring your cat, er, Henry the Eighth—” she glanced at Dolores “—back safely.” She didn’t really know if it was true but it seemed like the appropriate thing to say.

  “He’s my baby.” Dolores started mumbling again, and Roanna put an arm around her.

  “It’s okay, Mom. We’ll get him down.”

  Winnie blew hair off her face. She understood the woman’s fear. If anything happened to Sam she’d be devastated. Even though she’d gone through the greatest loss of her life when Tom died, Sam was still a member of their family.

  “I hope you’re right.” Roanna’s voice was infused with anger as she shot Winnie a scathing look.

  Winnie bit her lip. “C’mon, Maeve, let’s go see what Krista and Sam are doing.”