The Captain's Lady (10 page)

Positioning the crutch, Abby hobbled slowly through the door. “Thanks again for your help."

She replied with a big toothy grin. “It's no problem, really, ma'am."

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Eleven

Abby leaned back against the stacked pillows while running a brush through the length of her still-damp hair. Peaceful. She felt peaceful, and with each breath immersed deeper in utter bliss. The hot shower had done more to revive her than any nap ever could. Right now, she was amazed how all the aches that yesterday threatened to debilitate her, were today just faint twinges. Smiling she glanced down at the large borrowed t-shirt that hung loosely over her belly. Mary-Jo had helped alter the borrowed dungarees by fitting them with a wide cloth, elastic, and a safety pin across the waist opening. On her feet she wore Mary-Jo's thongs.

She set down the brush on the small table beside the bed, and smiled at the now-familiar lip that kept things from crashing to the floor as the ship rolled on the waves. Tossing the flip-flops to the foot of the bed, she leaned back against the pile of pillows. Abby lifted her hair so it feathered lightly over the top of the pillows and would dry quicker.

While she dressed, Abby and Mary-Jo chatted, and Abby was unable to restrain the urge to bring up the subject of Gail Carruthers. From the way Mary-Jo stiffened at the mention of the woman's name, Abby was sure her instincts had been right.

Mary-Jo pursed her lips and leveled a stern gaze on Abby, her words firm but not harsh. “Don't you pay her no mind, but if you have any problems with her, don't hesitate to say somethin’ to the captain."

Abby was grinning to herself when the door to sickbay jerked open, admitting a confident, and oh-so-male, Captain Eric Hamilton. Her heart beat heavily against the wall of her chest. It took Abby a moment to realize he was not alone. The man behind him was also tall but his hair was darker, his face rounder. She couldn't help noticing that he had the same muscular build. He carried himself in the same confident manner; they could have been brothers.

She tensed, feeling a wave of uneasiness settle in her gut, then Abby glanced away, realizing she'd been staring.

"Ah, there is nothing like a hot shower, to make you into a new man, or in your case, woman.” The remark by Eric was an icebreaker and caused a nervous giggle to escape from Abby.

"You're right, I feel so much better."

Striding purposefully towards Abby, he stopped and remained standing beside the bed. “Abby, I'd like you to meet Lieutenant Commander Joe Reed; he's my first officer or otherwise referred to as the XO. He runs the ship. He knows everything that goes on everywhere."

She looked up at the man standing a few respectful feet away. He nodded and the polite, friendly acknowledgement eased some of the tension, although a nagging concern still pricked Abby's nerves. Why was he here?

As if in answer to her unspoken question, Eric said, “I brought him along to document any details you may remember."

Abby stiffened. It was one thing to talk about personal things in front of Eric, but something else altogether with this stranger here.

"If you would rather not have me here...” Joe said.

His hesitation made her feel silly for the awkwardness that came to thicken the air. Swallowing she responded humbly, “N-no, it's fine, Lieutenant, the captain's right. Best to document things.” Seeking direction, she searched Eric's gleaming eyes for assurance. It was a leap of faith to trust Eric's instincts—not in her nature at all. Silently she prayed she was not wrong for agreeing to this. “It's okay, really.” She spoke softly, but directed the words to Eric, the words conveying,
I trust you
.

This monumental trust placed in him gave Eric momentary pause as a seed of self-doubt tried to take hold. He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze of reassurance, then helped her get comfortable by adjusting the pillows. He then sat in the chair beside the bed, leaning back, putting a respectable distance between them. “Are you ready?"

Nodding once, Abby took a deep breath. “Where do you want me to start?"

"I want you to go back to when you first saw the other guy who was with you and Seyed on the boat and picture him.” Eric spoke softly as he leaned forward, balancing his forearms on his knees.
Keep everything calm and as close to normal as possible
, he told himself. When she looked comfortable, he continued, “Close your eyes.” He waited until she did, a slight smile gracing the pretty face. He flicked a glance at Joe, who, pen poised, nodded. “Now picture him, Abby. Describe this guy in every detail; start with what he looked like. Then go on to your impressions of him."

Eric guided her to recall the smallest details, including the time of each incident. He pulled from her sights, smells, landscapes, objects, persons, and sounds that she may have heard. When they were finished, he gave a gentle pat to the back of her hand, and whispered, “You can open your eyes.” He greeted her nervous glance with a bright twinkle in his eyes.

"I'm sorry I couldn't remember more."

He widened his grin, reached down and picked up her hand that was clutching the blanket in a death-grip. Smoothing the skin on the back of her hand, he attempted to massage the tension away until her fingers were pliant and relaxed. “Are you kidding me, you were very helpful."

Joe, who'd remained standing throughout her monologue, moved forward and stood at the foot of the bed. He tapped the notepad with the nib of the pen. “I'll get right on this.” He gave her a wink to break the tension. “Thank you Abby, you gave us more than you know. We're gonna get this guy.” He said to Eric, “I'll talk to you later."

The hidden message was clear. Their talk would be personal. Or more accurately, it would be about Abby. There were a few uncomfortable seconds as they listened to the retreating footsteps and the door closing behind Joe.

"Did I really give you helpful information?"

He moved over to sit beside her on the bed. He draped his arm around her lower back, snaking it between her and the mountain of pillows. He met the question in those innocent eyes. “Yes, you did, more than you realize."

A curious shadow highlighted her face as she opened her mouth to say something, but he stopped her with a finger to her lips. “Sometimes details we don't think are important are the ones that are the most key. And just so we're clear, you gave us some very helpful stuff."

She couldn't stop the shiver that rattled through her. He began rubbing both his hands up and down her trembling arms. “Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I just don't like having to think about that time in my life. I suppose I need to face my demons though, don't I?"

He pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her head; he rubbed her back in a soothing, comforting gesture. “You did good, girl.” His voice was thick with emotion and he swallowed the awkwardness when she smiled up at him. “I'm real proud of you.” Arousal began as a deep-down ache. It spread from his groin, tensing, hardening. He pulled away, wanting to stand up, to move from her, but then she would notice. To distract himself, he plucked bits of invisible lint from his trousers.

She saw his discomfiture. For a split second Abby thought she'd done something to anger him. Then she spotted the slight rise in his pants near the zipper. Though she'd been a virgin when Seyed bought her, she recognized Eric's arousal and felt a telltale blush creep up her face. The idea he felt that way about her was wonderful.

Leaning forward he kissed her forehead. She was about to ask why he was chuckling but instead covered her face with her hands, because she knew—he'd realized her vulnerability. What was so funny about it?

Abby raised her head, intent on calling him on it. Instead, completely different words came from her mouth. “You make me feel things I never thought possible.” She clapped a hand to her treacherous lips. “Oh, I can't believe I just said that."

She waited, but Eric said nothing. What was he thinking? Was he holding in laughter? Or trying to find the right words to let her down gently?

The minutes ticked by. Still, he said nothing. Instead, with a gentle squeeze on her arm, he stood up. Keeping his back partially toward her, all he said was, “I'll be back to see you later."

He opened the door and stood a bit behind the edge of it. He met her gaze, opened his mouth to say something, then decided against it. Pursing his lips he presented her a stiff smile. Then with a hurried pull on the door, he left.

Part of her wanted to laugh out loud. She'd brought the mighty captain to a wordless departure! Another part of Abby was mortified for what she'd said. Obviously the soul-baring words upset him, chased him away. Despair cut through like a knife plunged deep within her heart. She wrapped her arms around the unborn child and rocked back and forth on the too-soft mattress. Unable to hold back the well of tears she let them spill over her cheeks in a steady stream, chastising her mouth for speaking with such wild abandon.
God dammit, Abby, why would you say that to the man?
Then she chastised Eric for being unable to face her.
Damn you, Eric, how could you turn and run? I thought you were different.
She clenched her fists feeling her energy deplete. It left her body as if a faucet had been turned on. She leaned back, mourning the uncertainty of her future. Then she cursed herself for a fool.

Later that afternoon in the captain's cabin, Eric and Joe reviewed the information that they had garnered from Abby. Eric remained standing, but Joe flopped in the chair in front of the desk and leaned back, propping an ankle over a knee. “I filled Edwin in on our talk. Abby's nice, by the way."

Eric scowled as Joe threw him a sly grin, but then went on without waiting for a response. “They suspect the guy is part of the ring responsible for the sabotage that occurred on one of the British Destroyers last month. Edwin confirmed that he was the one that arrived on Kish Island, and right now, they're tracking his whereabouts. He said he couldn't reveal anything else right now. But, he did say they suspect the plan changed when Abby clubbed this guy over the head, and then disappeared on the dinghy."

As Eric listened, he felt confident that it was the right decision to keep her close. A sick feeling stirred in his gut when Joe hinted at something Edwin said in passing at the end of the conversation: “The CIA may try to get a hold of Abby to talk to her."

Vaulting across the room, he braced both hands on the desk and glared icily at Joe. “No way in hell are they going to get their hands on her."

His blood pressure soared; he heard the reverberating thump of his heart against his ribs, and its forceful echo in his ears. Once the CIA got their hooks into her there was no telling what would happen. They were not beyond using her for their own means. “They'll have to go through me if they want her!"

Joe closed his eyes and looked away briefly, before speaking. “Eric, get a grip. You and I know damn well that if the CIA wants her, they'll find a way to get her. Right now, we're just getting the heads up so we can be prepared. You know it could mean your career if you interfere. Are you willing to put all that on the line for this girl?"

In reply, Eric fixed a dark look on him. Anger pulsed in his temples as he clenched his fists, battling a burning desire to hit something.

Joe sighed. “Hopefully it won't go there, but you need to be prepared. Just what do you think you can do to protect her anyway? It's not like you're married to her."

Eric's mask slipped at the insane accusation. But was it insane? The question of that kind of commitment haunted him. It would be a life-changing event. It could ruin his life. It could improve his life a hundredfold.

Joe tightened his grip on the arms of the chair, meeting his gaze, brown eyes widening. “Oh no, you're not thinking what I think you're thinking. Are you thinking about marrying the girl?"

Faced with the conscious realization of where his words were leading, Eric shoved his fingers through his hair, turned and paced six feet away. And stopped. Before now he was not willing to say it aloud; hearing Joe speak it gave a voice to the repressed feelings.

He turned and remained standing where he was. “I will do what I need to do to protect her."

Eric forced a composed façade then closed the distance to his friend. Eager to change the subject he waved a dismissive hand. “Look, we don't even know if things will get that far. So do me a favor and drop it.” He almost added,
and keep it quiet
. He would have said those words to anyone else, but Joe was the soul of discretion.

Eric began pacing the floor again, hands linked behind his back, hyper-aware of the eyes burning into his spine.

"I've never seen you like this. You have never been this drawn to a woman. Please explain to me why you would want to tie yourself to this young, and don't forget, pregnant, lady?"

Eric winced at the more-than-accurate description. “Yeah, I know. She's young..."

"And pretty."

Eric shot him a glare. “There's something about her.” He threw up his hands, palms up. “I can't explain it. I've never been this drawn to a woman.” He heard his tone soften. To cover it, he leveled an honest gaze at Joe while sucking in a deep breath. How to explain that it was more than likely he was finally being honest with himself?

He dropped his hand to his sides. “I don't know if it's because of what's she's been through, but we have a connection I can't explain. She wants and needs my protection. We have similar pasts, a lot more in common than even she knows yet. I had the admiral's aide dig into her past. He came up with more than I expected. It's personal and it's private; I haven't shared it with anyone."

"Nothing bad, I assume."

"No. Just a lot of things in conjunction with my life.” He remembered the painful tightening he'd gotten in his chest while reading the detailed report.

She'd been raised by the paternal grandmother who'd passed away last year, of heart failure, at the age of 79;, the mother, Jean Carlton, a heroin addict, whereabouts unknown, had abandoned her daughter as an infant of three months. Abby's birth certificate clearly stated: father unknown. There were no known relatives. She did not go to college. Instead, after graduating high school, she took a job in a local bookstore off South Main Street in Seattle.