Catherine's eyes flew to his. It was the only thing they shared, that time together, and although it was entirely selfish of her, she didn't want to give it up. "I realize you have as much right to use the track as
I do, so I'd like to suggest a schedule. Unfortunately the afternoons are the only time I'm free...."
"My schedule if far less restrictive, sir," she said, bolting to her feet. "Don't worry. I'll make an effort to avoid any possibility of us meeting. Would you like me to stop frequenting the Kitsap Mall while I'm at it?"
The telltale muscle leaped in his jaw. Catherine didn't know why she was taking the offensive so strongly. He was only saying and doing what needed to be done, what should have been said long before now.
But she felt as if the rug had been pulled from beneath her feet and she was teetering for her balance.
"You may shop wherever you choose."
"Thank you," she returned crisply. "Is that all?"
"Yes."
Catherine turned to leave.
"Catherine..." He stopped her as she reached his door. She turned back, but he shook his head.
"Nothing, you may go."
Chapter Four
Catherine understood. Conclusively. Decisively.
Commander Royce Nyland, her executive officer, she reminded herself, was shutting her out. Apparently it was easy enough to do. He'd rerouted his emotions so often that barricading any and all feelings for her was a simple matter.
She, unfortunately, wasn't achieving the same level of success. Royce Nyland had invaded her life. As hard as she tried, her efforts to adjust her own attitude had done little, if any, good.
She didn't want to feel the things she did for him, and frankly she didn't know how to deal with them. This was a new experience for her. How was she supposed to block him from her mind when thoughts of him filled every minute of every day?
He'd ordered her to stop, she reminded herself. When a superior officer spoke, Catherine, ever loyal, ever Navy, obeyed. No one had told her it was going to be easy. But then again, no one had bothered to explain how damn difficult it would be, either.
Nothing like this had ever happened to Catherine before, and frankly... Frankly, she didn't want it happening to her now.
Royce didn't want to jeopardize his career. She didn't want to jeopardize hers, either. He had little use for love in his life; she'd lived without it so long she didn't know what she was missing. If he could ignore the empty hole that grew deeper and wider with each passing day, then, she determined, so could she.
Maintaining her daily exercise program became of primary importance to Catherine. Never having liked running in the streets, she ran on the base track at odd hours of the day. She was careful not to infringe on Royce's time, holding on to this small link with him because it was all she had.
Early Friday morning, two weeks after Royce had called her into his office for their latest discussion, Catherine parked her car close to the jogging track.
She'd just finished her second lap when another runner joined her, coming up from behind her, gaining on her easily.
"Good morning."
Catherine's throat constricted. She'd worked so hard not to intrude on his exercise time, running in the early morning hours in order to avoid the possibility of them stumbling into each other.
The immediate sense of unfairness and outrage was nearly overwhelming. Instantly she wanted to confront Royce, shout at him, demand that he leave her alone, but he spoke first. "You're angry."
"You're damn right I am. What are you doing here?" Her voice was low and accusing. Suddenly she felt tired. Tired of pretending. Tired of ignoring emotions so strong she was choking on them. Tired of hiding.
"I need to talk to you."
"So talk." Her nerves were raw, stretched to the breaking point. They had been for weeks.
They jogged half a lap before he spoke. For someone who was so eager to communicate, for someone who'd broken the very rules he'd initiated, he seemed to be having a hard time getting started.
"I had to do it, Catherine," he said with enough force to shake the ground. The words weren't loud, but packed with emotion. "We've both been in the Navy too long, and love it too much to risk everything now."
"I know." Her anger vanished as quickly as it had risen and her voice trembled slightly despite her best efforts to keep it even and unaffected. She wasn't nearly as good as Royce when it came to disguising her emotions.
"What I didn't realize was how damn difficult it was going to be." He said this softly, as though admitting to a wrong-doing, as though it were important she know.
Catherine knotted her hands tightly at her sides. She never expected him to admit it, never dreamed he would. He'd given every indication that pushing her from his thoughts, from his heart, hadn't caused him a moment's concern. Surely he must have known how difficult it was for her. She'd buried herself in her work, repainted her entire apartment, stayed up late listening to Johnny Mathis records in a futile effort to forget Royce. But nothing worked. Nothing.
"Kelly asks about you every night," Royce confessed next.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, knowing that involving his daughter in this had made everything more difficult. "I didn't purposely run into you that day."
"I know. I'm not blaming you, I just wish to hell it hadn't happened. No," he altered quickly, regretfully, "that isn't true. I'm thankful Kelly met you."
"It would have been better for us both if it hadn't happened." Yet Catherine would always be grateful for that one day with Royce and his daughter. It gave her something to hold on to for all the long, lonely nights.
"There's a rumor going around," Royce said after a moment. Catherine's heart tripped. The fear must have shown in her eyes because Royce added, "It's not about us, don't worry."
The military abounded with rumors. That Royce thought it important enough to repeat one to her meant something was deeply troubling him.
"I heard by means of the grapevine that I may be sent over to Turkey to work at NATO."
His words fell like heavy stones upon Catherine's heart, each one inflicting a sharper, more profound pain. "Oh, Royce." Her tone was low and hesitant, filled with concern.
"If I am, I'll need someone to take Kelly for me."
Catherine would do it in a heartbeat, but surely there was someone else. A relative or a longstanding family friend. As a single parent, Royce must have completed a parenting plan so there would be someone to take Kelly with as little as twenty-four-hour's notice.
"I spoke to Kelly about the possibility of us being separated last night. I didn't want to alarm her, but at the same time I didn't think it was fair to hide it from her, either."
Catherine nodded, impressed with his wisdom in dealing honestly with his daughter.
"Kelly's lived in Bangor all her life, and I'd hate to uproot her."
"I understand." The ten-year-old had already lost her mother, and if her father were to be given shipping orders to the Middle East, everything that was familiar to Kelly would be stripped from her. The fact he'd been stationed at Bangor this long was something of an oddity.
"Sandy's family lives in the Midwest. She was never close to her mother and had lost contact with her father several years before. She has a couple of stepbrothers, but I've never bothered to keep in touch with them. To be honest, I haven't heard from her side of the family since the funeral."
"Kelly can stay with me," Catherine offered.
They had stopped running by this time and were walking the track, their pace invigorating. The air was cold and clean, and when Royce spoke, his breath created a thin fog in the autumn morning.
"If you can't, my parents will be happy to have her, but they're living in a retirement community in Arizona, and frankly, I hate to complicate their lives at this point."
"I mean it, Royce. I'd love to have Kelly stay with me."
"Thank you," he whispered. His voice was hoarse, and intuitively Catherine knew how difficult it was for Royce Nyland to admit he needed someone for something. Knowing he needed her, even if it was for his daughter's sake, did something to her heart. Her vulnerable heart. Susceptible only to him.
Royce picked up the pace, and they resumed jogging at a leisurely pace.
"How's Kelly taking the news?" Catherine asked, concerned about the grade schooler.
"Like a real trooper. I think she's more excited about the possibility of living with you, something she suggested by the way, than she's concerned about me leaving."
"Typical kid reaction."
"She really took to you."
Catherine smiled, her heart warming. "I took to her, too."
Royce laughed. It was the first time Catherine could remember ever hearing Royce amused.
"What's so funny?"
Royce sobered almost immediately. "Something Kelly said. Hell, I didn't even know she wanted a sister."
"A sister?"
Royce looked away abruptly. "Never mind," he said curtly.
They circled the track once more, their time slipping away like sand between splayed fingers. It felt so good to be with Royce, these moments together were like a rare, unexpected gift meant to be savored and enjoyed. Catherine had trouble keeping her eyes off him. He was tall and lean, his muscular shoulders broad. The sunlight was breaking over the hill, glinting on his thick, dark hair.
They parted at the last possible minute. Royce left first, heading toward the office. Catherine took a hurried shower. She stood under the spray, letting it pelt against her face and tried not to think of Royce being transferred all the way to Turkey.
It would solve one problem; she wouldn't be under Royce's command and if they chose to become romantically involved the Navy would not care. Of course they'd be separated by thousands of miles, but the Navy generally went out of its way to make falling in love difficult.
Catherine arrived at the office, feeling refreshed. She greeted her secretary, poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at her desk. She didn't look for Royce, but lately she'd made a habit of not seeking him out, even if it was only with her eyes.
She was absorbed in her own work for an hour or more when Commander Parker strolled into her office. Catherine had briefly met Commander Parker when she was first assigned to the Bangor station. He was in his mid-thirties, single and something of a flirt. He'd asked Catherine out to dinner one of the Friday nights Royce had seen fit to assign her duty, and she'd been forced to refuse. Apparently he'd taken her rejection personally, and hadn't asked her out since.
"Have you seen Commander Nyland?" Elaine Perkins asked a minute or so later.
"He was on the track this morning," Catherine explained as nonchalantly as she could. "He left before I did and I haven't seen him since."
"Commander Parker's looking for him."
"I'm sorry, I can't help." Perkins left and returned a few minutes later after a flurry of activity from several others. Apparently Royce wasn't anywhere to be found, which was highly uncommon. Catherine worked hard at disguising her growing concern.
The phone rang; Elaine Perkins answered, routing the call. Her hand was still on the receiver when she turned to Catherine. "I didn't know Commander Nyland had a daughter. Somehow I can't picture old stoneface as a parent."