Melody smiled beautifully as she approached the group. “Why, Curt, how are you? And Becky, my, you look lovely in your gold gown. And of course, how are you, Megan?” She went down the line, shaking their hands expertly. Megan Roberts wore a stunning silver lamé dress that complemented the striking color of her unruly red hair that spilled across her proud shoulders. Unlike the other women, she wore little makeup, but she didn’t need it.
Instinctively, Megan moved slightly in front of Becky, wanting to protect her from Melody. Sam hadn’t embellished the truth: Becky wasn’t recovering very well. “Good evening, Mrs. Stang,” she responded coolly, shaking her gloved hand lightly. All around them, soft music emanated from the band, Christmas decorations hung on the walls of the huge room. Megan wasn’t in the Christmas spirit. The O Club held nothing but terrible memories for her. Becky was little more than a frightened rabbit who hated these functions, and Sam wasn’t here. She missed him terribly. A week ago, he and Lauren Porter had to fly to Patuxent River to do some last-minute research on the redesign of the engine. They were supposed to be home tomorrow morning, December 24. At least their Christmas plans wouldn’t be ruined.
“Well, well, well,” Jack said, grinning down at Megan, “we finally get to meet Holt’s lady again. It’s a real pleasure, Megan.” He shook her hand.
Megan kept her face neutral. “Thank you, Captain Stang.”
“Soon to be Major,” Melody reminded all of them, sure that he was going to get early promotion.
“I’m sure,” Megan said, caring less. She knew Sam was up for early promotion, just as Curt was.
“Hey,” Jack said conspiratorially, leaning forward, “you know Sam and Lauren go back a long ways. I’ll bet you’re just a little worried about him spending an entire week alone with her in Maryland.”
“Lauren is such a beautiful woman,” Melody added enthusiastically. “Have you ever met her, Megan?”
Megan stared at the couple, her heart thumping hard, underscoring the fact their attack had hit the target. She could barely respond, her voice tight. “No, I’ve never had the pleasure.”
“Too bad, or perhaps it isn’t. Lauren was promoted early to major a year ago, and we can see why. She’s the head of the Design team on the Agile Eagle. Not only is she a brilliant flight engineer, but she’s very beautiful and poised. Sam Holt has made no bones about her being his favorite flight engineer over at Testing.”
“Easy on the eyes,” Jack agreed. “If Sam has to spend a week in Maryland with someone, he really lucked out getting Lauren.”
“It’s a shame,” Melody said, pointing generally to the left of them, “that Major Ryan Malone is all alone tonight. Lauren is supposedly engaged to him, you know.”
“I don’t know about that, honey. Look who’s coming over to him. That’s Liza Cooper. What a looker.”
Megan watched the entire scene, nauseated. Blond-haired Liza, dressed in a gold-sequined miniskirt that barely hid anything, sidled up to Major Malone. She slid her hand through his arm and smiled winningly up at him.
“My, my,” Melody said to Megan, “I wonder if a similar celebration is going on in Maryland right now? You being an Air Force brat and all, you know how promiscuous jet jocks are. Particularly test pilots.” Then, she beamed at her husband. “All except for Jack. I feel we’re one of the few couples who have found not only true love, but fidelity.”
Nerves raw from the unexpected attack, Megan glared at them. “I really don’t appreciate the innuendos you’ve dropped, Mrs. Stang.”
“Whatever are you talking about?”
Megan zeroed in on Captain Stang. “I despise gossip. Worse, I don’t like people who deliberately try and stir up trouble when the individuals they’re talking about aren’t here to defend themselves.”
Jack frowned. “Megan—”
“It’s Ms. Roberts, Captain.”
Scowling, Jack felt her rage. “We’re not gossiping, Ms. Roberts.”
“No? Coming over here hinting obliquely that Captain Holt and Major Porter are having an affair in Maryland is pretty gossipy. Not to mention, bold.” And stupid. Or was it? Megan recalled a number of times that Sam had said he liked working with Lauren. Not only that, but his voice also softened when he spoke of her. Was there something between them? Fear ate at her. It was true, single pilots were known to play the field. To them, it was a game. Was Sam capable of that? Suddenly, Megan wasn’t sure because she’d never thought about it. Sam seemed loyal to her at all times. Except when he talked in that soft tone of voice about Lauren.
Laughing delightedly, Melody raised her hands. “Ms. Roberts, we implied no such thing. I’m sure you know of your father’s exploits. They’re still the talk among the single pilots at the O Club. Like father, like daughter? Will Sam Holt run around on you, like your father ran around on your poor, sick mother?”
Pain shattered through Megan and her voice shook with emotion. “When Sam lands tomorrow morning, I’m going to be there to ask if what you’ve implied is true. The only time gossip can do any damage is if there’s no communication between the people involved. And Sam and I know that.”
Jack’s gaze narrowed on her. “Now look, Ms. Roberts, you can’t prove anything.” He grinned at Becky and Curt, who were also frowning. Sweat trickled down from beneath his armpits, soaking into his uniform. Sliding his hand beneath Melody’s elbow, he nodded to them. “Have a good time here tonight. Melody and I have to pay our compliments to General Dalton and his wife. If you’ll excuse us?”
“Merry Christmas to all of you,” Melody added sweetly, gliding away.
Megan stood there, her hand on Becky’s arm. She could feel Becky trembling. “It’s okay,” she told both of them. “This time, they’ve picked on the wrong person.”
Merrill slid his hand protectively around Becky’s waist. “You stood up to them, Megan. I give you credit, but you’ve made some enemies.”
Clenching her teeth, Megan glared at the departing Stangs. “Wrong, they’ve made an enemy of me. I mean it—I’m going to meet Sam and Major Porter at Ops and tell them what happened.”
With a whistle, Curt shook his head. “Wait until Port finds out. She’s going to have Stang’s head on a platter.”
“Right where it belongs,” Megan answered tightly. Worriedly, she returned her attention to Becky. In the last two weeks, she had been slowly recovering, still a mere shadow of herself. Anger toward Curt ballooned, but Megan knew she had no business saying anything. No, the only life she could control was her own, and no one else’s. Looking at Becky’s somber eyes, her waxen flesh, she wondered if she’d look like that some day if she and Sam remained together. The thought was frightening. Tomorrow morning, December 24th, Sam would be back. And she’d be waiting for him.
Sam’s surprise at seeing Megan waiting just inside the glass doors of Ops turned to pure pleasure. As he and Lauren climbed out of their individual cockpits of the T-38 Talon jet trainer, he hungrily sponged in her awaiting figure. She was dressed in a pale pink angora sweater with a cowl neck, black wool slacks and a tan wool blazer. The ache to move those fiery strands of thick, free hair through his hands was almost physical.
Holt waited for Lauren at the bottom of his ladder, thanking the crew chief. The week spent in Maryland with the navy design experts had consisted of grueling sixteen-hour sessions. The five-hour coast-to-coast flight had cost him the last of his physical endurance. All Sam wanted was sleep, and more sleep. Savoring the thought that Megan would be in his arms infused him with desire. First, sleep, and then, after awakening, he’d make passionate, welcoming love with Megan.
Lauren took the flight helmet off, her chestnut hair escaping from the gray skull cap all pilots wore beneath it. Shaking her head, she smiled up at Sam. “Let’s call it a day, huh?”
“Roger that.”
“Is that Megan?” Lauren asked, as they walked toward Ops in the distance.
“You bet it is.”
“Very pretty, Sam. You’re serious about
her, aren’t you?” The wind blew playfully, cool and welcoming.
“She’s special,” Sam admitted, a sudden catch in his voice, surprised at the emotions following on the heels of his disclosure. As they drew closer, he saw Megan’s features were serious and sober, not welcoming as he’d have thought. Automatically, Sam muttered, “Something’s wrong.”
Lauren took the steps quickly. “Oh?”
“Let’s find out.” Sam passed her and got to the door first, opening it for Lauren.
Holt smiled at Megan as she came to meet them. There was a line of tension to her mouth, and he frowned. First, he made introductions, realizing Megan had never met Lauren. The two women smiled and shook hands. Fear gnawed at him. Megan’s eyes were fraught with something, but he couldn’t figure out what.
“Sam, Major Porter, I need to speak to both of you for just a moment.” Mouth dry, Megan dove in, repeating what had been said by the Stangs at the Christmas ball the night before. She saw Sam’s eyes narrow with fury. The major’s reaction was far more volatile.
“That gossiping son of a bitch!” Lauren cursed fiercely under her breath. “I’ve had it with him!”
Eyebrows raised, Sam slid his arm around Megan’s shoulders. He wanted to reassure Megan of his love. She lifted her chin, her eyes mirroring gratefulness for his action. “Easy, Port,” he cautioned. Only a skeleton crew was on duty over the holidays, but Sam didn’t like the prospect of her words floating around to the wrong ears.
Clenching her flight gloves, Lauren glared around the quiet lounge area. “I don’t care, Sam! Stang has tried so hard to keep everyone on edge. This is my project, and I’m sick and tired of him trying to undercut my authority and keep my people upset! I’m going to do something about it.” She started to leave, but caught herself, and turned on her heel toward Megan.
“Thanks for telling me this, Megan. Ryan and I have some talking to do. You’ve saved us from a potentially serious rift in our relationship.”
“You’re welcome, Major.”
“Hey, Port.”
She turned slowly, her jaw set. “Yes?”
“Have a good Christmas despite this, huh?”
A slight smile dissolved some of the tightness around her lips. “I’ll try. And merry Christmas to the both of you. See you on the twenty-sixth.”
Sam watched Lauren stalk off, and then devoted all his attention to Megan. He didn’t want to kiss her in front of the crew, so took her into a side room where reports were written. Closing the doors, he set his duffel bag and flight case on the table.
“Now, it’s your turn,” Sam murmured to Megan, and settled his hands on her shoulders. He saw her eyes thaw and grow warm with welcome. With a groan, Sam growled, “I didn’t sleep well without you. I had a hell of a time paying attention to the design efforts. All I could think about, dream about, was kissing you, Red. Come here….”
It was easy to be drawn into his arms, to lean against his hard male body and feel his mouth capture hers in a heated welcome that drove the cold fear from the pit of her stomach. Megan inhaled his masculine scent, a faint odor of sweat, and felt the sandpapery growth of his beard against her cheek. With a slight moan, she surrendered to his exquisite assault, wrapping her arms around his neck, and gloried in his joy at seeing her once again.
Reluctantly, Sam broke contact and smiled into Megan’s lustrous green eyes. The words I love you were almost torn from him. He swallowed them. It was too much, too soon. If Megan knew how he really felt about her, she’d run. Placing several small kisses on her brow, cheek and nose, Sam whispered, “I know what it cost you to come here today.”
Megan nodded, content to rest her head against his shoulder, the beat of his heart beneath her palm. “I can remember swearing I’d never set foot over here. I hated Ops so much.”
“Because you hated what it stood for,” Holt said.
“Yes, a place that meant more to my father than we did.” More of the terror was draining from her, Sam’s arm strong and protective around her.
“You came because you wanted to find out if there was any truth to the Stangs’ gossip.”
Megan looked up. “Sometimes you amaze me with your perception.”
Grinning carelessly, Holt brushed another kiss to her brow. “Hey, I’m just being my old test-pilot self.”
“Humph.”
Sam saw the devilry in Megan’s eyes, a flood of relief flowing through him. “I keep telling you I’m different. You keep denying it, but it’s the truth.” He guided her to the chair and she sat down opposite him. Gripping her hands, which were cold and white, he said softly, “Red, there’s no one but you. I promise you that. Ever since I saw you, every other woman pales in comparison beside you.” He smiled gently, running his thumbs across the backs of her hands. “Even Lauren. Okay?”
“I feel so stupid, Sam. Last night, when Melody hit me with that, and then dragged my father’s name into it, I lost it.” She gripped his warm, strong hands, holding his warm blue eyes. “I’m sorry. Am I forgiven?”
He kissed her fingers. “There’s nothing to forgive, Red. You did the right thing—you perceived a problem, and you brought it to me to talk about. I told you before, with communication, we can make this work between us. Any doubts now that we’ve been put to the test?”
Megan shook her head, dread dissolving around her. “No…no doubts.”
Sam squeezed her hands. Come the twenty-sixth when he saw Stang in Design, he’d set him straight about his wife verbally attacking Megan. It wouldn’t happen again.
“Let me complete my flight records, and then we’re out of here.”
Megan watched as he pulled a pen from the sleeve pocket of his flight suit. The report before him was painfully neat, no ink smudges, no misspellings. Test pilots were graded on such things. “Sam?”
“Hmm?” He kept on writing.
“When you saw me at the doors, what was your first thought?”
Lifting his head, the pen hovering over the report, he returned her thoughtful gaze. “Well, I could say something flip like you couldn’t wait to jump my bones because you missed me so much.”
“But you won’t, will you?” His honesty with her was the crux of everything good between them. Megan had to have his real feelings.
Setting the pen aside, Sam folded his hands above the report. Brows drawing downward, he said quietly, “At first, I was happy as hell you’d come. I thought you were trying to overcome your fear of this place, of my job. But then, when I got close, I saw your face, and I got afraid, Megan. My first thought and feeling was, ‘My God, you’re going to tell me it’s all over, that this isn’t going to work out between us.’ I knew you had to go to that Christmas party over at the O Club alone, and I didn’t like it. I wanted to be there with you—for you.” Taking a deep breath, he added, “I got scared. Real scared. I thought I knew what fear was, but I’ve never experienced this kind of gut-wrenching fear before. And—” Sam paused “—I didn’t want to come up those stairs. I was too afraid to find out what had you so upset.”
Reaching out, Megan slid her fingers between his hands. Her heart mushroomed with such an incredible array of emotions, that all she could do was stare across the table at him. Words choked up in her throat, and she bent her head, trying to get past the lump.
“If,” she rasped, “it makes you feel any better, I was afraid, too. Afraid that the Stangs were right. Lauren is beautiful. I stood there teetering between the joy of seeing you again and the terror that you had something going with Lauren.” Looking around the light blue room, Megan added, “And you’re right, I had to face another barrier of old fear by deciding to come over here.”
Sam picked up her hand, placing a kiss on it. “That’s just one of many things I like about you—even if you’re scared to death, you overcome it.” Watching her lips part, and seeing the vulnerability in her eyes, Holt couldn’t ever imagine himself with any another woman. “And as for worrying about me straying…well, it just isn’t going to happen
.”
“It could, Sam.”
He nodded. “Yes. But honey, we can’t live our lives on possibilities. We can’t be Chicken Little always running around shouting the sky is falling in.”
The need to love him, to be in his arms and a part of his sensitiveness, moved gently through Megan. “Funny how we all have our fears, isn’t it?”
“Yes. It’s how we handle them that counts.” Sam squeezed her hand and reluctantly released it. “Give me five minutes and we can go home—together.”
Leaning back on the dark blue aluminum chair, Megan waited. Sam looked so tired. Exhausted was a better word. “I want you to come over to my apartment to sleep. I got a tree. We can decorate it tonight after you wake up.”
Grinning, Sam asked, “Does that include dinner in the invitation, too?” He loved good home-cooked food.
Megan colored slightly. “Yes. And don’t laugh, but I spent all morning making pierogies for you. We’ll have them tonight. On Christmas day, we’ll have the traditional turkey and dressing.”
Delighted, Sam laughed. “God, I don’t believe this! Polish food! At last! I really miss my mom’s cooking.” In that instant, Sam wanted to simply take Megan into his arms and hold her—forever.
16
The instant Sam stepped into Megan’s apartment, whatever tension he carried fell away. They had stopped over at his house, and he’d picked up some clean civilian clothes, his robe and a few toiletry articles because he was staying over for two days. Lifting his nose, he inhaled deeply.
“Pierogies…” And then, Sam smiled over at her, and loved her fiercely for her thoughtfulness. “I never thought I’d get them again unless I went home for a visit.”
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