Always Ready (5 page)

She closed the closet on the neat row of uniforms, glad that her captain had sent her clothing and camera bag to her apartment the day she left the hospital. Maybe soon she’d feel like taking pictures again.

She walked to the nightstand and picked up the small, pewter-framed photo of herself and her father. Both wore their dress uniforms. Her mother had taken the picture after Caddie’s graduation from basic training, and it ranked high among her treasures. “I love you, Dad,” she whispered. She brushed back a tear and squared her shoulders.

Mark and Jo-Lynn picked her up right on time, and she dove into the backseat of their decade-old sedan. She was getting used to the awkward cast and moving about without jarring her injured arm.

During the ten-minute drive, she and Mark compared notes on their recent experiences at sea. Though Caddie knew Mark served with Aven, she didn’t mention his name.

Neither did Mark. He launched into a tale of woe about his assignment to inspect a crab fishing boat in rough weather. “One man was seasick all day, from the time we boarded that boat. And I thought I’d have frostbite by the time we got done weighing all the crabs.”

“Didn’t you wear gloves?” Caddie asked.

“Well, yeah, but the cold still gets to you. They did their processing on the deck, and the wind chill was intense.”

“Oh, like Caddie doesn’t know that. It gets cold at sea up here, even in summer.” Jo-Lynn swiveled in her seat and looked at her. “You’re lucky you came home at all, girl. You got a crack on the head and a broken arm. You could have drowned.”

Caddie nodded. “God protected me.”

“Well, I’m glad you weren’t hurt worse. Have you told your mother?” Jo-Lynn asked.

“I called her yesterday. She wants me to come home for a while, but I haven’t decided yet.”

Mark pulled into the parking lot, and they all entered the church together.

“Hey, there’s Aven Holland,” Jo-Lynn whispered as they walked down the aisle looking for a place to sit. “He’s staring at you.”

Caddie glanced over the pews to her left and spotted him. She smiled and raised her Bible a little as a substitute wave. She felt her face flush and wished she could have left the sling and cast back in her apartment.

Aven’s face lit up, and he returned her wave.

She turned her attention back to Jo-Lynn, knowing her face was scarlet by now. “Do you want to sit here?” She didn’t wait for her friend to answer, but scooted into a pew and sat down halfway along the row.

A moment later, Jo-Lynn bent toward her and said, “I think he likes you.”

Caddie opened her mouth to respond, but thought better of it and swallowed. She fought the urge to glance across the aisle and back. The music director walked to the podium, and Caddie resolved to keep her attention on the service.

Afterward was a different story, however. As the people surged into the aisles, Mark made a beeline toward Aven.

In less than a minute, Caddie found herself standing a yard from him as Jo-Lynn and Mark asked him how his trip to Anchorage had gone and if he’d be joining the crew of the
Milroy
when the cutter headed out again Tuesday.

His dark eyes flickered Caddie’s way now and then as they talked, and his smile drew her in, too.

“When the pastor was talking about how the Lord abhors dishonest scales, I was thinking of the boat my crew boarded last Wednesday,” he said.

Mark chuckled. “Yeah, you got a fellow who abhorred the honest ones, didn’t you?”

“That’s about the size of it.”

“I hear they gave you a lot of trouble,” Jo-Lynn said.

“Nothing we couldn’t handle.”

Caddie shivered. Whose adventure had been worse—hers or Aven’s? She was thankful God had brought them both safely to their home port.

Aven wore his uniform today—most of the men did. Probably it was easier for them, especially those who were single, than maintaining a Sunday civilian wardrobe. He was an inch or two taller than Mark, and his short, dark hair lay shiny and clean, parted casually on the left. His shoulders remained straight, even as he relaxed and talked to his friend.

Their conversation turned back to the sermon they’d just listened to. Caddie was mildly surprised but pleased that Aven commented on how the pastor’s message about honesty encouraged him to do his job the best that he could, even when it was hard. He seemed like just the kind of man Caddie could go for, but she didn’t want to make any assumptions. Personal relationships in the military could be tricky.

Over the past six years, she’d found it best to go by the book. Life was less complicated that way. Besides, at twenty-four years of age, she wasn’t sure she wanted to add romantic complications to the frustrations of her career. It was hard enough trying to do everything right when she was on duty—especially when the boatswain watched her every move—and studying the manual and the charts of the waters her ship would sail. Did she have time to think about romance?

Aven looked her way again, and his smile melted the iceberg of doubt in her stomach. If she didn’t have time, she would make time.

“Sounds to me like you guys take way too much flak from those fishermen,” Jo-Lynn said.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Aven replied. “They feel intimidated when we board their boats.”

“Yeah,” Mark said. “Especially when they know they’ve broken the law. We have to expect a little belligerence.”

Aven turned to Caddie. “How’s the arm?”

“It still aches some, but the doctor says it will heal well. I’m off duty for at least a month, though. Physical therapy every day.”

“So, you said you might go home?” Jo-Lynn asked.

Caddie hesitated, hoping the annoying blush would stay at bay. She didn’t want to admit she’d postponed making plans until she knew whether or not she’d have a chance to see Aven again. “I might. Later this week, maybe. Right now I’m taking it easy and getting used to pulling clothes on over a cast.”

Aven smiled. “I hope this hasn’t soured you on Alaska.”

“Oh, no. I’m glad I was assigned here. Sometimes I feel a bit. . .” She struggled for the right word and shrugged. “Inadequate for the job, I guess. But. . .the Lord is always there.”

He nodded solemnly. “That’s right. He’s there for us even when we’re weak.”

Caddie straightened her shoulders a little. She would keep doing her best and focus on God’s promises when she needed help in pleasing her exacting superiors. She had chosen this life, and she needed to do it well.

An image of her father flashed through her mind. He had sailed these same waters and met the same challenges she faced now. Her service was a memorial to her dad. Had she inadvertently added another layer of expectation to her workload? Did wanting to honor Dad increase the stress of her job?

“There are times when I think I make the job harder than it really is.” As soon as the words came out, she regretted voicing the thought.

But Aven’s eyes glinted as he nodded. “That’s easy to do. Especially when we forget who’s really in charge. Remember to rely on His strength.”

“Well, hey, why don’t we go get something to eat?” Jo-Lynn asked.

“Yeah,” Mark said, “if we can find a place that’s not too full of tourists.”

“I know a seafood place,” Aven said. “We might have to wait a little while for a table, but the food is good and it’s not too expensive.”

“Let’s go.” Jo-Lynn herded them all into the parking lot and nudged Caddie toward Aven’s truck. “Go ahead with Aven. We’ll follow you.”

Caddie felt her face warm again, but Aven smiled. “Sure, if you don’t mind my pickup. It’s practically old enough to vote.” He opened the passenger door for her and offered his hand. “Can you manage with that cast? I don’t want you to hurt your arm.”

“Thanks.” As she reached for his hand, her stomach fluttered. His strong, warm fingers clasped hers, and he gave her just enough leverage to make her climb into the cab quick and painless. She wondered if he felt as nervous as she did. If so, he didn’t show it.

Four

The harborside restaurant was crowded when they arrived shortly before one o’clock, but Aven didn’t mind. He used the wait for a table as a chance to learn more about Caddie. She looked terrific in a muted green dress, and her hair seemed shiny and a little poufier than usual. He wondered if it felt soft.

“You like seafood?” he asked.

“Yeah. Do you?”

He nodded. “I’ve seen a lot of salmon lately, though. I’m not sure I want to eat it today.” He eyed her, wondering what to ask next. There were so many things he wanted to know about her.

Mark and Jo-Lynn were conveniently studying a menu on the wall.

“See, they have beef and chicken, too,” Jo-Lynn said.

Aven looked at Caddie and took a deep breath. “So you’re heading home to recuperate?”

“If the doctor says I can and if I can line up physical therapy there.”

“Where’s home?”

“Washington.” She added quickly, “The state, not D.C.”

“Beautiful place to live. Your folks live there?”

“Just my mom, my brother, and sister.”

Did that mean her parents were divorced? Not the best time to ask. Aven nodded and passed his key ring from his right hand to his left. He realized he’d done that about twenty times in the two minutes they’d stood waiting. He wasn’t sure he’d even be able to eat. He shoved the key ring into his pocket. “If you’re going to be in town tomorrow. . .”

“I’m taking her to the Baranov Museum tomorrow,” Jo-Lynn said.

“Oh.”

Mark poked Jo-Lynn with his elbow.

“What?” she asked.

“Aven has tomorrow off.”

“So?” Jo-Lynn looked at Aven and back at Mark. “Oh. Sorry.”

Caddie said nothing, but her gaze never left Aven’s face. Suddenly he wished he was elsewhere. Jo-Lynn could be a nuisance. Of course, he probably wouldn’t have had the nerve to ask Caddie to lunch if Jo-Lynn hadn’t instigated the outing.

“That’s okay,” he said to Jo-Lynn, flashing a glance Caddie’s way. “I wasn’t going to do anything special tomorrow. I just plan to run a couple of errands.”

“Caddie and I could do the museum another time.” Jo-Lynn raised her eyebrows at Caddie with an “up-to-you” expression.

Aven gulped and dared to look steadily at Caddie. “I was going to go look over a dog harness for my sister. She needs a new one and she really can’t afford it, but she heard about someone not far from here who will put together a custom harness at a reasonable price. She called him for an estimate a few weeks ago and decided it was too spendy, but I said I’d check into it.” He looked away. “I thought you might be interested in going along, but. . .”

“Hey,
you
could take Caddie to the museum,” Mark said.

“Oh, no,” Aven said quickly. “Then Jo-Lynn wouldn’t get to go.”

Jo-Lynn waved away his objections. “I’ve seen it three or four times, while you guys were out to sea. I just thought if the weather’s nice, Caddie and I could ride into town and take a look. The Baranov has tons of exhibits from the times when the Russians were here, but I don’t need to see it again.”

“Well. . .” Aven swallowed and turned his attention back to Caddie. “What do you think? We could swing by the harness maker’s shop and then see the museum. If you want to. I mean, it might be fun.” He stopped talking. Why was it so easy to give orders to a dozen seamen—male or female—on the ship without tripping over his tongue, but a simple invitation to a woman came out all mangled? In his years in uniform, he’d had only a handful of bona fide dates. Was it any wonder, when he couldn’t offer a pretty woman a simple sentence without bumbling?

The hostess approached them with a brilliant smile. “Phifer party?”

Mark sprang to attention. “Right here.”

As they fell in to follow her to their table, Caddie tossed a smile Aven’s way, eyeing him from beneath her lowered lashes. “I’d like that. Thanks.”

He barely heard her, but it was enough to send his ego soaring through the roof of the restaurant.

When they reached the table, he pulled out a chair for Caddie. She again smiled at him as she slid into the seat, holding her left arm cautiously away from the edge of the table.

Aven’s stomach settled down. Talking to women on land wasn’t so hard. Why had he anticipated an afternoon of indigestion? He might even order a steak.

❧

When they entered the harness shop the next day, Caddie stopped just inside the door and inhaled deeply. The leather and oil smells reminded her of a saddle shop she’d visited once. A man who appeared to be in his thirties, with his blond hair pulled back in a ponytail and about two weeks’ growth of beard, worked at a raised counter. Aven approached him, and Caddie drifted to a side wall where tooled purses, soft briefcases, dog collars, and leather cuff bracelets hung on display racks.

“My sister, Robyn Holland, called you a couple of weeks ago about a harness,” Aven said.

The owner laid down his tools and nodded. “Yeah, I remember.” He stuck out his hand. “Brett Sellers.”

Aven shook his hand and introduced himself.