Chapter 4: Absence makes the heart . . .
Vella La Cava, VMF 214 HQ
"How'd the track go?" Kate didn't turn from her typewriter. "Did Raider find Jim?"
"Yep, no problem," Sarah said. She dropped the dog's harness and line on the foot of her bunk in Kate's tent.
"How was the lagoon?"
Sarah stared at the back of Kate's head. More than once, she'd thought her sister was psychic.
"What do you mean?"
"You know exactly what I mean." Kate turned, grinning. "I know that trail ends near the overlook and I knew Jim would suggest you come back by the beach and it was a hot day so . . . how was the lagoon?" She took in Sarah's wet hair and rumpled T-shirt. "It looks like you ended up in it and I'd guess you had company."
Freshly rinsed, Raider sprawled in the middle of the floor and fell asleep.
"We did." Sarah's voice was cautious.
"And?"
"It was nice."
"Anything else?"
"Would you stop it!" Sarah said in exasperation. "There wasn't anything else."
"Oh yes there was, Sarah Cameron." Kate pinned her sister with cool gray look. "Are you going to tell me about it or do you want me to start guessing?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." Sarah fiddled with her gear bag, pulling out clean clothes.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about. There are two things that place is good for and swimming is only one of them."
"It was the middle of the day!" Sarah looked horrified.
Kate's grin broadened.
"Is that a problem?"
No, it really hadn't been a problem.
"He . . . we didn't . . . it's none of your business!" Sarah spun to face her sister. She didn't honestly care if Kate knew she and Jim had been . . . what exactly had they been doing? One kiss didn't constitute making out, did it? A little voice in her head said it didn't matter how many kisses were involved if you were rolling around half-naked in the surf with a guy while your mind said no and your body said God, don't stop. He hadn't really touched her . . . at least not anywhere he shouldn't have. . . just his hands around her waist and cradling her hips and then his finger sliding slowly down between her breasts. She closed her eyes and could feel the heat of his body against hers in the water. The memory ricocheted through her with a physical intensity.
Something must have shown on her face. Kate's voice softened.
"You're right, Sair, it's not any of my business and I'm not trying to be nosy." She laughed. "Well, yeah, okay, I'm being nosy. I just wondered if I needed to go kill him for getting out of line with you."
Sarah fixed her with what she hoped was a confident look.
"How about you let me handle it?"
"Better you than me." Kate said cheerfully and turned back to her typewriter. "Give me a minute and we'll go shower at Dee's."
Sarah let out her breath. She'd handle it all right. She'd just keep telling him no. Until she couldn't.
XXX
Greg stopped for a nightcap later that evening. Sarah was telling him and Kate what the K9 teams were doing in the theater when Jim walked in. He looked for an available chair and finding none, dropped onto the floor next to Sarah's bunk. Raider gave him a sleepy stare, then thumped his tail in acknowledgement. Meatball was sitting on Kate's lap, looking smug.
"Come in," Kate said drily. "Pull up some floor and make yourself at home."
Greg passed him the bottle of Scotch they were sharing. As usual, there were no glasses to be found in Kate's train wreck of a tent/field office. Jim drank, then handed the bottle to Sarah, winking as he caught her eye. She gave him a private smile and hoped the heat rising through her wasn't reflected in her cheeks. She tipped the bottle up, allowing herself a very small indulgence, enjoying the tendrils of smoke that lingered in her throat.
"We're still seeing a lot of Japanese infiltration, especially to the north," she continued, shoving thoughts of that afternoon out of her mind. "They drop one or two snipers near Allied bases on islands that are supposed to be cleared. It's nothing large scale but we're losing men and equipment. And we're losing time. The units under fire are pinned down and can't do anything. Pilots can't get to their planes. Engineering companies can't move. One sniper can immobilize a whole base. More often than not, Tojo's been extracted before a patrol can find him. Foot soldiers can walk right by and never see them. That's where my dogs come in."
"Your dogs?" Greg raised his eyebrows.
"Yeah. My dogs." Sarah grinned, emphasizing the plural. "Kinda like Micklin's planes."
"No wonder he likes you," Greg said.
"When I'm not out hunting . . ." Sarah caught herself. Looking at the tent ceiling, she corrected, "when I'm not doing reconnaissance to neutralize an enemy presence, I'm helping establish new teams. We've got a lot of new dogs coming over but they don't all come with handlers, so they have to be matched up once they get here. That's what I'm really supposed to be doing - training handlers - only I'm working patrols more often than not."
"Sounds like you're never in one place very long, Red." Jim took the bottle and leaned back. Sarah had changed into shorts after showering and the curve of her thigh was pretty much at his eye level. She made a concerted effort to ignore his gaze. When he looked at her that way, she could practically feel his fingers against her skin. While this wasn't unpleasant, it didn't make it very easy to carry on any kind of sensible conversation. Damnit. His head was practically in her lap.
"I'm not," she admitted, wrenching her eyes - and her mind - off the way his hair curled at the base of his neck. "I don't log as much air time as you boys but sometimes it feels like it. They told me Rendova would be the central training base for new dogs coming into the theater and that's where I'd be stationed but it's not really working out that way."
"How's Raider feel about flying?" Kate asked with a shudder. Her aversion to air travel was legend.
"He just likes to go wherever I go," Sarah said. "Planes, jeeps, boats, we flew in a duck once . . . he doesn't really care how he gets there. We even spent a couple of days on a carrier, between the Russells and Malaita. That was not a fun trip. Neither of us are a big fan of the Navy."
That brought a round of laughter and the conversation changed to lighter topics. They passed the bottle until the patter of rain broke things up. The men left for their tents before the sprinkles turned to a downpour. It seemed like it rained all the time these days. Storm season was in full bloom in the South Pacific.
XXX
The next morning, the Black Sheep took off at 0800 for a routine patrol over the Slot. Sarah and Kate were returning from the flight line when one of the com shack personnel intercepted them.
"Sergeant Cameron?" He held out a sheet of paper. "This just came for you."
Sarah took it and read quickly.
"Transport will arrive 0900 on La Cava to pick up you and Raid. Needed on Choiseul. R and R over. Owe you one. Maj. J. Taylor."
Sarah sighed and shrugged at Kate's questioning look.
"No rest for the wicked," she said. "It's time to go hunting."
Raider wagged his tail hopefully. It had been fun to find the man yesterday but he really hoped he'd be allowed to find someone he could bite next time.
XXX
Radio chatter on the way home after the mission had turned to women. There was a fair amount of speculation regarding a new crop of nurses due to be rotated onto La Cava in a few days. Their arrival would necessitate a welcome party, which the boys regarded as a prime opportunity to stake their claims on any female personnel who caught their fancy. They'd found it was best to act fast, before the new girls wised up or the nurses with permanent posting at the hospital clued them in regarding the Black Sheep.
Then things got a little more specific.
"Hey Gutterman, you get lucky yesterday?" Bobby Boyle queried.
"Don't know what you're talking about," Jim returned. He was surprised it had taken them this long to start on him.
"Aw, come on, spill it. You spent a lot of time with Sarah the last couple of days. She looks like she don't mind your company. And the two of you came back yesterday afternoon looking like you'd been baptized and got religion. What'd you do out there that took so long?"
"Why? You writing a book?" Jim was deliberately vague. Any other time he would have cheerfully relived those stolen moments for the benefit of both the squadron's entertainment and his ego but now that he thought about it, he didn't think what had happened on the beach was anybody's business but his and Sarah's.
"We kinda got a bet going," Boyle said. He was the unit's self-appointed bookmaker.
"A bet?" Jim grumbled. "What kind of bet?"
"On you and Sarah, what do you think?" French chimed in.
"What about?" Jim was starting to sense where this was headed.
"We figure it's not really a question of if, it's a question of when. So . . . did you?" Boyle's curiosity carried over the radio static.
"Yeah, Jim, is she a natural redhead?" TJ often said things to his tent mate in the air that he wouldn't say on the ground. He figured Jim had time to get his temper under control before they landed. If not, TJ could hold his own until the other boys pulled them apart. It had happened before.
"Just drop it!" Jim snarled.
"That's enough," Greg broke in. "That's Kate little sister you're talking about. She hears you talking like that and you'll answer to her."
That effectively ended the conversation. There were some grudging acknowledgements and the topic changed to trading Aussie wine and silk stockings for vintage Scotch with the Seabees on Guadalcanal.
XXX
"Sarah asked me to thank you for showing her a good time while she was here," Kate said to Jim. She was walking back to the Sheep Pen with the pilots after the squadron returned. She still wasn't sure how much of a good time Jim had shown her sister but she'd agreed to pass along the message. Sarah and Raider had left on the transport for Choiseul three hours ago.
Jim scratched his head.
"Did she leave you a good-bye kiss for me?"
"Absolutely not!" Kate tried to look offended but couldn't help smiling. Jim would never change. "You'll have to collect it yourself, next time you see her. Maybe you can charge her interest."
"Not sure when that's going to be," he mused, more to himself than anyone else.
"Aww, let it go, James," Bob Anderson said. "Saturday, the new nurses arrive and you'll have the opportunity to collect all the kisses a man could wish for. Just think of those lovely young beauties, all alone in the world, needing male guidance to help them along the way . . ." he wandered off, still extolling the virtues of the pending nurses.
Greg snagged Jim by the elbow as Kate and the other men flowed around them into the Sheep Pen.
"Free advice is usually worth what you pay for it," he said quietly, "but don't take that girl for granted, Jim. I don't know how much the two of you plan on seeing each other, but if she's anything like Kate, I'm guessing there's a whole lot more to her than just a pretty face."
For once, Jim didn't have anything smart-assed to say. He didn't have anything to say at all. He didn't know how much they were going to see of each other either. He wasn't sure how much of him she wanted to see. Judging from her reaction the previous afternoon, she was what he'd call a definite maybe. He followed Greg inside for a drink, wishing he could have said good-bye to her before she left. Her and that damn dog.
XXX
The highly anticipated new nurses arrived on Saturday afternoon. By 1900 hours, the traditional welcome party at the Sheep Pen was primed to kick off.
Jim lay on his bunk, watching TJ knot his tie. The scent of soap and aftershave hung on the warm evening air.
"You'd better get cleaned up or you'll be late," TJ observed. "All the good ones will be taken."
"Maybe I'll come up later."
"What's with you? You feel all right?" TJ ran a comb through his hair.
"I'm fine. Just not in the mood for it." Jim picked up a tattered copy of Stars and Stripes.
"You really got it bad for her, don't you?" TJ said. "Sarah, I mean."
"No," Jim snarled. "I don't got it bad for nobody. I just don't feel like being in a crowd tonight. Besides, I thought you had a thing going with Jeannie. Won't it piss her off if you're chasing after the new girls?"
"That thing with Jeannie was kind of a one night deal. All she wanted to do was talk about you. I had a hard time shutting her up. Finally managed though." He edged toward the door, unsure how Jim was going to receive that bit of information.
Jim shrugged indifferently. TJ let out his breath.
"You won't know what you're missing," he tossed over his shoulder as he left the tent.
Jim spent 30 minutes trying to read a newspaper he'd already read half a dozen times, then tossed it on the floor. He hadn't lied to TJ, not entirely. He really didn't feel like being in a crowd tonight. And he really didn't care what TJ, or anyone else, did with Jeannie McDowell. Which was probably a good thing because he realized, in hindsight, she didn't either.
He'd read about the ongoing sniper raids on Choiseul and wondered if Sarah and Raider were still there. He wondered what they were doing tonight. He was glad she had that bad ass dog to take care of her, although he didn't doubt for a minute she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. She was nearly as bad ass as her dog but he could still see the uncertainty in those green eyes when he'd rolled her onto her back at the lagoon. She hadn't fought it but she hadn't yielded either, he thought, remembering the curves of her body pressed against his.
That train of thought wasn't taking him anywhere he wanted to go. Grumbling, he finally pulled on a clean uniform and headed for the Sheep Pen. A couple of drinks wouldn't hurt and it sure as hell beat laying around here feeling sorry for himself. Or worse. Maybe he could find a poker game to take his mind off her. Poker made him think about betting and that made him think about Boyle's stupid bet. When, not if. He wasn't so sure they weren't still at if. And nothing was sure as hell going to happen with the two of them on two different islands, a couple of hundred miles apart.
Music and light spilled out of the Sheep Pen and the party was in full swing when he walked in. Jim helped himself to a beer and leaned on the bar, surveying the room. The new crop of nurses seemed to have been accounted for. TJ was slow dancing to a fast song with a pretty blonde. Anderson was seated at one of the tables with a curvy brunette on his lap. She was feeding him pretzels while he quoted obscure poetry. It even looked like Bragg had found companionship with a short, stacked strawberry blonde who was hanging on his every word. Greg and some of the guys had a poker game going. Kate was throwing darts with Boyle and French. From the look on their faces, they were getting their butts handed to them.
"It's good to see you again, Jim," said a voice at his elbow. He turned to see a girl with a lush figure and wavy brown hair cradling an empty whisky glass. She smiled up at him. "Buy a girl a drink?"
Jeannie McDowell. He recognized the look in her eyes, the one that said she had him square in her sights. Clearly she'd gotten over being angry at him and didn't appear very broken up that things hadn't worked out with TJ, either.
"Uh, sure." He turned, reaching for a Scotch bottle behind the bar. He tipped a generous splash into her glass and handed it back to her.
"I missed you last weekend," she said. Her scarlet lips curved into a pretty pout.
"I was around."
"But you were too busy with that silly old poker game to have any time for me." She lowered her lashes and gave him a demure gaze. "I've really missed you."
Jim realized detachedly that her calculated look didn't have nearly the same effect as when Sarah did it. The smoky heat Sarah generated with a casual glance could make his socks roll up and down, whether she intended it that way or not. Jeannie's version reminded him of a feral cat stalking prey.
"I see that didn't stop you from leaving with Wiley last Saturday," he said, returning his gaze to the room in general. "My wingman, Jeannie? Really?" He didn't even try to keep the disgust out of his voice.
"Aww, Jim, can we forget about that?" She slipped her arm through his and leaned her head against his chest. "Sometimes a girl just needs some . . . company . . . you know?"
She stood on her tiptoes and let her tongue flick along his earlobe.
"Maybe we could go somewhere and talk about it," she said softly.
Jim knew exactly what Jeannie meant by talking and he wasn't in the mood for it. At least not with her. Although if he were being honest with himself, he considered it for about two seconds. She was a guaranteed good time, no doubt about that. She'd proven it more than once and in a variety of interesting ways. With sudden clarity, he realized it would be nice to have feelings for a girl that lasted beyond a tumble in the dark.
Jeannie sipped her drink and ran her tongue suggestively along the rim of the glass, never taking her eyes off him. Her blatant invitation left nothing to the imagination. He wondered what in God's name he'd ever seen in her beyond her complete willingness to do anything he wanted. And she'd done it with a proficiency that suggested she'd done it before. A lot. Now that he thought about it, that wasn't nearly as appealing as it used to be.
He shifted, finding her touch more annoying than arousing. His movement wasn't lost on her. Before he could think of a way to distance himself from the situation, those feral cat's eyes blazed. If he was looking for trouble, he'd just hit the jackpot.
"So it's true then, what the other boys said," she flared.
"I dunno. What'd they say?" He sipped his beer, wishing he was anywhere else.
"That you're involved with that Army dog handler." Her words dripped scorn. She was not used to men saying no to her, especially after she'd said yes to them. She wasn't going down without a fight. Which would be a first, Jim thought.
"Got a problem with that?" He could see this was headed downhill fast. He should have skipped the beer and gone straight to whisky.
"A dog handler?" Jeannie switched back to being coy. "Really, Jim, you can do better than that. What's she got that I don't?" She stepped into him again, pressing her breast against his arm and running her tongue over her upper lip.
For once, he didn't say the first things that came to mind. Class. Self-esteem. Drop dead gorgeous legs. The kind of kisses that drove the thought of every other woman he'd ever pursued straight out of his mind and slammed the door behind them.
Instead, he said the second.
"She knows how to say no."
To her credit, Jeannie didn't hit him. Her laugh was low and husky.
"That doesn't seem like your type of girl at all. You liked it when I said yes," she purred. "And you made sure I said it . . . so . . . many . . . times." Her index finger traced the muscle of his forearm.
"That's before I figured out how often you were saying it. Me? Wiley? Who's next? Are you working your way through the Black Sheep?"
She hit him then.
Her palm connected with his cheek in a stinging slap. His head rocked back but he held his ground. He realized awkwardly she could probably say the same thing about him and the nursing staff. He wasn't that bad, was he?
It wasn't the first time a girl had slapped him. It was, however, one of the more spectacularly public times. Pretty much everyone in the Sheep Pen was staring. A few of the men chuckled. A few of them looked sympathetic. Kate was watching with a faint, knowing smile.
Jeannie whirled and stormed away.
"Don't let the door hit you on the way out," he called.
Jim caught Greg looking his way. His CO lifted his glass and smiled. Jim sauntered across to the table where Greg and a couple of other Black Sheep who had steady girls were playing cards. He felt better than he had since Sarah left a few days ago.
"Deal me in," he said, pulling out a chair. "I got nothing better to do."
Greg shoved a bottle in his direction.
"How about a little wishful drinking?"
Jim poured whiskey into a canteen cup.
"Yepper," he said. He knew exactly what he was wishing for.
XXX
Rendova, 137 Infantry HQ
A week later
Sarah pulled off her boots and collapsed on her bunk with a groan. She wanted to sleep around the clock. The more Japanese infiltrators she and her dogs flushed out, the more they sent. The K9 patrols were stopping them, though. The dogs were nothing short of amazing.
She and Raider had been rotated out, sent back to Rendova to rest and, judging from the amount of paper work waiting for her here, fly a desk for the next month. She opened an eye and looked at the desk in question. None of the paperwork had gone away. She closed her eye.
She'd made sure Raider was comfortable with food and water and left him in the spacious kennel behind the tents. With multiple K9 units on the base, the men had built a series of secure kennels for the dogs. The handlers - her included – preferred to have their dogs with them most of the time but it was occasionally necessary to have a break.
Sarah knew after she fell asleep, Raider could round up half the Japanese Imperial Navy and drive them through her tent without her waking up. He was not the sort of dog who could be left to his own devices without collateral damage. After seeing to his creature comforts, she'd showered and grabbed a quick bite. Now, all she wanted was uninterrupted sleep.
"Cameron?" It was Eddie McGivern, one of the sharpshooters in her unit. His Oklahoma drawl reminded her a whole lot of Jim and for a disjointed moment she expected him to call her darlin' and say something totally inappropriate that would make her laugh.
"Cameron? You awake?"
Reality pushed in. Not Jim. She groaned and swung her feet off the bunk, shoving herself upright. It didn't seem right to have a conversation with one of the men while laying flat on her back. Plus there was the very real possibility she would fall asleep in mid-sentence.
"What is it, Eddie?"
"Mail call. This came while you were gone. It got mixed in with some of my stuff." He held out an envelope. She was ready to tell him to put it on her desk with everything else growing there when the handwriting caught her eye. It was from Kate.
"Thanks!" She took the letter.
"Glad to see you back. Good hunting?"
"Yeah, it was. Hey, how about target practice tomorrow?"
Eddie laughed at her.
"Sure thing but you don't look like you'll be awake 'til Tuesday at least."
"Tuesday then." He left and Sarah ripped open the envelope. Kate's familiar looping hand filled the page.
Dear Sarah,
I think of you every day and pray for your safety and Raider's. There's not much new going on here – same war, different day. Greg says hello and wants to know when you can come back and negotiate some things for him with Micklin. He thinks the two of you are cut from the same cloth. I have no idea if that's a good thing or not.
Jim was distraught (she'd drawn a smiley face near the words) that you left without giving him a proper good-bye kiss. So watch out the next time you see him. I might have suggested he charge you interest on that missed kiss.
And when will that be? Sarah wondered. Nothing about their relationship could even be remotely considered steady. So far, the time they'd spent together had been more accidental than anything else.
There was an amusing little interlude at the Sheep Pen last night. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. One of Jim's old flames showed up and was practically drooling over him. I know her by reputation and it's not a good one. I wasn't close enough to hear exactly what Jim said to her but he looked less than enthusiastic and then she smacked him a good one and left.
I don't know what you did to him, little sis, but you sure made an impression. I've ever seen that boy tell a girl to leave him alone. On second thought, please DO NOT tell me what you did to him. (Another smiley face.) That is more than I ever need to know.
In any event, he still drinks as much as ever and he and Boyle had a knock-down, drag-out fight when they got back from a mission a few days ago. You'd think somebody Boyle's size would have better sense than to piss off somebody Jim's size but apparently he didn't. It took Greg, Casey and Anderson to break it up. No idea what it was all about and Greg changes the subject when I ask (I haven't given up), but it's all water under the bridge now and no one has tried to kill anyone lately. You know what those guys are like.
Kate went on for a few more paragraphs about the weather (stormy), the missions (dangerous) and the 214's battle with Colonel Lard (never ending). She signed off with admonitions for Sarah to be careful and suggested perhaps her next R and R could sync with the Black Sheep's on Espritos so they could see each other again.
Sarah set the letter down. Her mind was restless now, not inviting sleep. Yeah. She knew what they were like. Why in the world was she letting herself get involved with one of them? It wasn't like Jim was the best looking guy she'd ever met. He wasn't homely, either, just kind of on the cute side of plain.
So what was it about him? She couldn't put her finger on it. She really did think he had a nice ass and she wouldn't mind putting her fingers on that. Crap. It was easier to deal with those thoughts when he was nowhere around and she could think about risky behavior without having to take any action on it.
He had that good old boy charm going for him. That smile and those dark eyes that lit up when he saw her. The way he looked at her made her heart skip a beat. It made her feel like she was the only girl he saw, no matter who else was around. Like she was something he valued beyond whatever they happened to be doing at the moment. Which was probably a good thing because what they'd done so far had been pretty limited in scope. She knew better than to think any kind of relationship worth having could be based on a roll in the hay. Or beach.
Sometimes she'd caught him looking at her like Raider looked at a particularly tasty bone the cook had saved for him. She was very familiar with that look, too. It was impossible to work around men for as long as she had and not know the difference.
Sometimes it was a combination of both and that spelled trouble.
She got up and prowled around her tent. Opening a trunk, she pulled out a sketch pad. It was one of the few leisure pursuits she had time for here. Flipping to a blank page, she propped the pad atop the mess on her desk and picked up a pencil. Her hand began to transfer her thoughts onto the paper.
She liked the way she felt when they were together – a little reckless, a little more willing to push the envelope of caution. Or whatever passed for caution in a war zone. Kate had always told Sarah she was the sensible one. If this relationship kept going, her sister might need to re-think that, Sarah thought dryly.
Her fingers worked independently of her thoughts, graphite strokes creating a familiar image on the page. Hair, curling at the temples. Flight suit, rumpled and open at the neck. Stubble shadowing his jaw. That easy going attitude that promised a good time. All she had to do was say yes.
There hadn't been that many men in Sarah's life. True, she was surrounded by them – her CO, the boys in her unit, other dog handlers, the pilots at 149, the Black Sheep on her random visits to La Cava. Good lord, you couldn't swing a cat without hitting a man. But romantic entanglements had been practically nonexistent. Before Jim, she hadn't been interested and even if she was, she didn't have time. She was either training new teams, out on patrol, swamped with paperwork or sound asleep. That pretty much summed up her life.
On the rare occasion when she had time for social interaction, men were put off by a girl who could out shoot them on the range and beat them at the poker table, no matter pretty she was. Not to mention she was accompanied 95 percent of the time by a dog who didn't like anyone.
Which brought her full circle back to Jim. He didn't seem to mind any of that. He was even okay with Raider after the dog had effectively put an end to whatever it was they'd been doing that afternoon on the beach. Was he a romantic entanglement? A convenient opportunity? Their afternoon on the beach had certainly been a convenient opportunity. If Raider hadn't decided to stick his big nose in the middle of it, things might have ended a lot differently.
She was still sketching without conscious thought. Eyes, dark, echoing the invitation of that lazy smile. One of these days, darlin', you're gonna get tired of telling me no.
She was still thinking about that as she closed the cover of her sketchbook and toppled onto her bunk, asleep before she hit the pillow.
