Chapter 14: To have and to hold

Oct. 24, 1945

Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton, Oceanside, Calif.

The ink was barely dry on Jim's discharge papers and he wasn't sorry to put the USMC in his rearview mirror. The military had been his choice only as an alternative to being locked up for doing some wild shit in what he'd come to think of as his misspent youth. He wasn't sorry about that choice. It had been good for him and he realized it now.

He would miss the men, the camaraderie and the gut-wrenching adventure that had been his life as a fighter pilot since 1941. He wouldn't miss the regulations and saluting. The last two months had been a study in tedium. Being a ferry pilot was not his cup of tea. And God help him, his final assignment had been with a unit that insisted on playing "Reveille" every damned morning. That had gotten old in a hurry.

Now, the only things he possessed where the uniform on his back and the various items jammed into his duffel. An offer from a buddy waiting in Oklahoma. A little money in the bank. And a dream that a red-haired, green-eyed Army dog handler could make come true.

He stepped onto the street as a civilian for the first time in four years with one thought on his mind – find Sarah.

He hailed a taxi to the train station.

"How may I help you, sir?" the clerk asked from behind the ticket counter.

"I need to get to Cedar Creek, Kentucky, by Saturday," Jim said.

"Where the hell is that?" the clerk blurted. With the influx of servicemen and women returning home from abroad, he thought he'd heard of every podunk town there was. He hadn't heard of this one and sighing, pulled out his United States atlas.

"Damned if I know," Jim returned, thumbing bills off a roll. "Somewhere near Lexington. Just get me to Kentucky and I'll figure it out from there."

Casey had run into him, almost literally, while he was cooling his heels in a bar on Pearl, waiting for the brass to finalize the paperwork that would send him home. Casey was there on leave to visit Dee – whom he had married about five minutes after Japan signed the official surrender papers on the USS Missouri. Well, they had agreed to wait until the war was finished. Over drinks, Casey told Jim that Greg was back in the States now and he and Kate were getting married.

The wedding was in four days, on Oct. 28. Casey and Dee planned to attend, although Dee couldn't leave her post at the hospital for two more days, so they would be arriving at the last minute. Casey invited Jim to travel with them. Jim had declined. He couldn't wait. He was tired of waiting. It was second in line behind being tired of saying good-bye.

He'd taken the first available flight back to the mainland, finished being processed out at Camp Pendleton and had been honorably discharged.

Honorably. Didn't that just beat all? He figured someone higher up the food chain had been willing to overlook a few things early in his career, although once Greg got hold of him, he'd straightened up a little and once Sarah got hold of him, he'd straightened up a lot.

Now all he had to do was get to Cedar Creek, which was apparently in the middle of nowhere. He knew Sarah would be there. There was no way she'd let Kate get married without her.

The clerk consulted the atlas, then thumbed through an assortment of schedules and timetables.

"I can get you on a line that goes to Albuquerque, then Amarillo to Austin up through Little Rock and on to Lexington by Friday afternoon. It leaves at 4 p.m., so you got a three-hour wait. That okay?"

"It'll have to be." Jim paid for the ticket and pocketed it. He should stop and see his family in Fort Worth but there wasn't time. He'd telephoned his mother. She knew he was safely back on U.S. soil and that was going to have to be good enough for now.

"Can I help you with anything else?" the clerk asked, jerking his thoughts back to the present.

"Yeah. There a decent jewelry store anywhere around here?"

The clerk beamed. This was not the first time he'd heard that question in recent weeks.

"Yes, sir, that'll be Stockert and Hoyt, on the corner of Sycamore and Twelfth. Tell them Ed sent you."

"Thank you, Ed, I'm mighty obliged." Jim turned and left the station to find another taxi.

XXX

Oct. 27, 1945

White Oak Farm

Cedar Creek, Kentucky

It was the day before the wedding and the residents of White Oak Farm were in a state of utter chaos. Don French's parents, Harold and Caroline, along with their 20-year-old daughter Helen, had arrived the day before. They were staying at the big house with the William and Audrey Harris. Harold had been instrumental in getting Kate the job that landed her at White Oak after she'd lived with the Frenches in Philadelphia.

Bobbie and Ellen (Morgan) Anderson were staying at the Cedar Star Inn, Cedar Creek's lone hotel, but were spending most of their time at White Oak, helping with wedding preparation. They'd been married six months earlier. Don French and TJ Wiley had shown up the day before yesterday and were also staying at the Cedar Star Inn. Bobby Boyle and Jerry Bragg had called and left a message, assuring Kate they'd be there by Saturday, although with those two, there was no telling where they'd end up and no one was holding their breath. Larry and Dee Casey sent word promising they would be here in time for the wedding, although they warned that they might arrive at the same time the bride was walking down the aisle. White Oak Farm was never going to be the same.

The bride-to-be found Sarah on the receiving end of instructions from Tilly Murray, the Harris' housekeeper, regarding polishing silver for the wedding dinner. Kate tossed a pair of riding breeches at her and said, "Change clothes, we're getting out of here."

"Where do you two think you're going?" Tilly demanded. She was brandishing a bottle of shoe polish and several pair of men's black dress shoes.

"Out!" Kate called over her shoulder as they fled toward the barn.

Fifteen minutes later, Sarah swung a leg over Possum, a sweet-tempered dapple gray heavy hunter. With Kate mounted on Tuxedo Junction, an off-the-track blood bay, the two girls put the frenzy of cleaning and food preparation behind them. Sarah was thankful for her sister's intervention. Polishing silver didn't rank high on Sarah's list of life priorities but Coretha Harris, the matriarch of the Harris clan, made it clear she would not be serving a wedding meal in her house with tarnished silver and had recruited all hands on deck. Sarah thought if Coretha wanted the silver polished that badly, she could do it herself.

Kate sighed with relief as they turned the horses down the lane that ran along the river. A gust of wind sent a shower of late season leaves cascading onto the water's surface, where they floated in a blaze of garnet and topaz.

"I wanted to elope," Kate said, "but Greg wouldn't have it. He said just for once we were going to do the traditional thing and he was going to marry me in a church in front of God and everybody. He even sent me to Lexington to buy a wedding dress. Told me not to come home without one. I think he was afraid I'd show up at the church in riding breeches otherwise."

Sarah privately thought Greg had a very good point.

"I am so happy for you," she said. "He's a wonderful man. The two of you were meant for each other."

"So what's going on with you and Jim?"

Sarah forced a wry smile. "I don't think we're even in the same hemisphere right now. Seems like it was easier for us to be together in the middle of the war."

"He'll find you, you know."

Sarah reined in Possum and tipped her face up to the late afternoon sun.

"That's what he said when I left Rendova. I'm so tired of saying good-bye, Kate. All I've done for the last two years is say good-bye to people I love."

"Then maybe you should stop."

Sarah made a face.

"Easy for you to say. The Army doesn't exactly ask if it's a convenient time to leave. They just tell you to go."

"Are you going to re-up?"

Sarah made another face.

"I don't know. I only signed on for two years and my enlistment is up next month. There's been noise about starting a real K9 breeding program, they want to build on what they learned from using dogs in the South Pacific and Europe. I could get in on the ground floor if I wanted to."

"Do you want to?"

Sarah looked out over the hills. The blaze of autumn color was starting to fade but the oaks glowed dull copper in the sunshine.

"I don't know. I was never looking for a career in the military – I just wanted to train dogs and look where it sent me. You and Greg, you've got each other, you're going forward, wherever the future takes you. Jim and I . . . I don't know where we're going. I can't see him sticking in the service. I can't see me sticking, either but I don't know what else I would love as much as working with the dogs."

Kate arched her brows.

"Have you two talked about this?"

"Talked? Kate, we haven't seen each other in months. I expect when we do see each other, we'll . . . talk." She remembered his last letter. When I see you again, we have some things to talk about.

"Yeah." Kate grinned, drawing the word out into three syllables. "I know Jim, remember? I don't think there's going to be a lot of talking going on when you two see each other again."

"Smart ass," Sarah muttered and squeezing Possum with her knees, cued the horse into a canter, leaving Kate and Tuxedo behind in a swirl of leaves.

XXX

Jim arrived at White Oak late in the afternoon on Oct. 27. He thanked the farmer who'd given him a ride from the train station, grabbed his gear out of the back of the truck and walked up the flagstone path to the front door of the main house.

Tilly let him in and looked him up and down. Before he had a chance to explain himself, she turned and hollered over her shoulder toward the back of the house, "Sir? I got another one of your boys out here!"

Then Meatball trotted around the corner and let out with a volley of barks that brought everyone scrambling. Greg, the assembled Black Sheep and Danny Harris poured in from the back porch where they'd been enjoying a bottle and staying out of the women's way. Greg pulled Jim into a wordless embrace and there was a great deal of back thumping and hand shaking all around.

"Thank McArthur," Jim said. "There for a while, I wasn't sure he was going to let go of me." He glanced around. "God, it's good to see you all again. Is Sarah here?"

"What?" Greg grinned. "You've been here five minutes and our company isn't good enough? Yeah, she's here. She and Kate went out riding a couple of hours ago. They should be back any time."

He slung an arm around Jim's shoulders.

"C'mon, Gutterman, we got some catching up to do."

The men retreated to the porch.

Tilly Murray watched them go, her dust cloth paused in mid-air. So, that was Miss Sarah's beau. She'd recognized him immediately from Miss Kate's description – tall and dark, broad shoulders and a smile that could have a girl on her back without even trying. My, my, my, she thought. White Oak hadn't seen this many good-looking men in uniform since about forever. She wasn't sure her heart could take much more of it. She set down her dust cloth. They were a thirsty bunch, too. She'd just find another bottle of Old Charter and some more glasses and ice and take it out to the porch for them. Oh, what she wouldn't give to be 30 years younger.

XXX

Jim watched as the horses came up through the orchard at a relaxed walk. Both girls rode with the grace of those who'd spent more time in a barn than a ballroom. As they grew closer, he could see they were having an animated conversation. Sarah had dropped the reins of the huge gray creature she was riding and was doing something with her arms that mimicked – he realized - catching an airborne dog. Then she mimicked falling over. On the porch, Jim shook his head. He remembered that day all too well.

The late-day sunlight glinted off Sarah's hair, which was caught up in a neat French braid. That had to be Kate's doing, he thought. Never in the year and a half he'd known her, had Sarah ever done anything more complicated with her hair than stuff it under a hat. After two months back in the States, it had started to darken again, although the mahogany was still shot through with copper highlights.

The lane curved past the house on the way back to the barn. Sarah was still guiding the horse with her legs, her arms now imitating . . . a dog hitting a bite sleeve? Two dogs hitting a bit sleeve? She was shaking her head and laughing at the same time.

Jim set down his drink and walked to the edge of the porch, resting his hands on the railing. Behind him, the mens' voices faded into the background. Sarah's laughter carried on the breeze as the horses approached. She was close enough he could see her face clearly now. She was relaxed, her face unguarded. The hard-edged veneer of discipline and command he'd seen so often during the war had softened but she still had that slightly wild look that never failed to send a tingle down his spine.

Sarah glanced toward the porch, her gaze sweeping over the men assembled there, hand raised in a casual wave. She was still chatting to Kate. Then he saw her words trail off as her eyes found his and went wide. She dropped her hands to the reins and urged the big horse forward, her face alight.

Jim bolted down the porch steps and vaulted the fence. He caught her as she kicked her feet out of the stirrups and threw herself off the gray into his arms.

"Hey, Red."

"You're back!" Her voice was a fierce whisper.

She hugged him, words incomprehensible as she buried her face in his chest. He tipped her chin up, brushed his mouth over hers, lightly at first, then her lips parted under his in the welcome he'd dreamed about since that morning she left Rendova.

There were kisses and then there were kisses. Her tongue slid over his with a familiarity that would have been more appropriate behind closed doors than standing in the autumn sunshine with half the squadron watching. Not that he was arguing. Some small part of his mind had been afraid her return to the US would have changed her feelings for him, but the emotion radiating from her eliminated any doubt.

He couldn't get enough of her. She smelled like sunshine and saddle leather and horse. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, her body pressed against his. They broke off, both needing air.

"You're here! You're actually here!" Her fingers traced traced his jaw, then slid into his hair. "I didn't know if you'd come, if you were still in . . ."

"I'm out of the Corps, darlin'. Uncle Sam is done with me."

"Welcome home." Her voice was soft. She pulled his head down and kissed him again while the men cheered behind them.

XXX

"I told Michael to put your bag in Sarah's room," Greg said. "Unless you plan on bunking at the hotel in town with the rest of the guys."

"I'll stay here, if she'll have me," Jim said, quirking an eyebrow at Sarah. They, along with Kate, Greg and Joy were sitting in the front room of the gate house after supper, fire crackling in the hearth and glasses of bourbon all around. Meatball snoozed in the middle of rug, where he could monitor everyone, should they decide to move.

"I'll have you," Sarah said. She sipped, studied him where he sat with Joy on his lap. The little girl had made the rounds of all the men after the meal that evening, happily climbing from lap to lap, her dimpled smile proving irresistible. Her eyes were growing heavy now and she was snuggled sleepily against Jim as he sat in a wingback chair near the fire. If he was uncomfortable with the arrangement, it didn't show. Sarah smiled, in complete agreement with Joy's choice. There'd been a lot of nights in the last two months when she'd wanted to fall asleep with her head on his chest, feeling his arms wrapped around her.

There was something different about him now, she thought, something a little more serious, like a man had emerged from the hot-headed fly boy she'd first met. It looked good on him. She'd fallen in love with who he was then, rough edges and all. Maybe because of the rough edges. He'd been so impossibly wrong for her – arrogant and smooth talking and reckless, inviting himself into her life when a man was absolutely the last thing she was looking for. What had Kate said that afternoon so long ago – love finds you when you're not looking. Well, she hadn't been looking and it sure found her. Now what was she supposed to do with it?

Lizzie Murray entered the room, glanced around shyly and located Joy.

"You want me to take her, Miss Kate?"

"Unless Jim and Sarah want to keep her tonight," Kate said with a sly grin. "She can wake them up at 2 a.m., wanting Meatball or a drink or a story or God knows what."

In answer, Jim lifted the sleepy child up to Lizzie.

"If I'm awake at 2 a.m., it's not going to involve Meatball," he said.

Sarah gave him a sideways look.

"You are a bit presumptuous, sir," she said in her best formal voice.

"You said you'd have me." He was laughing now. "I took that at face value."

"That's it. We're going to bed. You kids don't stay up too late." Greg stood. Kate wrapped her arm around his waist.

"Try to keep it down so you don't wake Joy," she said and they left the room. Sarah heard the stairs creak and Greg's warm laugh as they disappeared.

The fire had burned itself out, the logs crumbled into a red glow edged by white ash. Sarah set her glass down.

"C'mere, darlin." The undertone in Jim's voice sent a current of electricity through her. She crossed the room slowly and stood in front of him, holding out her hands. He took them and rose, fingers circling her waist.

"You know Kate had Tilly put me in the room furthest from her and Greg?" Sarah watched for his reaction.

"And why would she do that?" The glint in his eye said he knew perfectly well why.

"She knew you'd come for the wedding and she knew you'd stay here, just like she knew Greg was alive all that time. I swear some days she's psychic."

She took his hand and led him up the stairs to the room at the far end of the hall. She didn't turn on the electric light. The nearly full hunter's moon cast the room in silver. They were barely across the threshold when he pressed the door firmly shut and pinned her against it, his mouth on hers. The kiss was light, an invitation, not a demand. She slid her hands down his back, eyes closed as his scent washed over her.

"I missed you," he whispered.

"What did you miss most?" Her hands were already cradling his hips, pressing him close, feeling his body respond.

"The way you feel." His hands slid under her shirt. She shuddered with pleasure at his touch, warm, rough fingers on her skin.

They undressed each other slowly, rediscovering curves and muscle, hearing the soft intake of breath as touches grew more intimate. The familiarity of his body triggered an overwhelming need for reunion, for physical affirmation of things left unsaid.

"Come to bed with me," she whispered, and pulled him down onto the moonlit quilt.

Her body remembered his, his mouth, his hands, the hard need of him entering her. She met him with a fierce possessiveness, the glory of giving herself to him sparkling through her blood like wine.

As he held her on the hot, bright edge of release, she sank her nails into his back and matched his demand, feeling the power surge through him. Her body responded, exploding with agonizing intensity, and his mouth closed over hers as she called his name.

XXX

Greg and Kate were married the next afternoon in the country church at Stone Cross, near White Oak Farm.

It was intended to be a small affair but what with the couple themselves, Sarah, Jim, random members of the Black Sheep and their new wives, plus the Harris family who Kate had been sharing her life with, and all the assorted Murrays who called White Oak home, the little chapel was bursting at the seams with laughter and joy that sunny autumn day.

Bobby Boyle and Jerry Bragg arrived, driving a rattle-trap '36 Plymouth that was smoking like a Corsair after a bad mission. Greg told them to park it far enough away from the church that if it caught fire when no one was looking, at least nothing else would burn up.

It was the third wedding Sarah had been a part of in the last seven months. She'd been on a brief layover on Espritos, headed back from New Caledonia, and stood up with Bobby and Ellen when they were married in February. Raider had curled up under the pew in the small chapel on the base and slept through the whole ceremony.

Her timing had landed her on Pearl, en route back to the States, when Larry Casey and Dee Ryan had tied the knot. Dee had asked her to stand up with them. Don had been there as well, and had been Larry's best man. They'd all gotten uproariously drunk afterward. Those had been no-frills ceremonies with the sound of marching boots and jeep tires outside the window as background to the optimistic music of a borrowed Navy pianist. Both times, Sarah had been in field kit – clean but feeling awkward holding a small bouquet of flowers while still wearing khaki and boots.

Now here she was, in a church decorated with autumn flowers from the Harris' gardens, dressed in a stylishly cut, soft blue wool suit, a white blouse and black pumps. Her hair had been styled and she was wearing makeup for the first time since she couldn't remember when. A green stone wrapped in a filigree of silver wire hung just below the hollow of her throat.

Three times a bridesmaid, never a bride, Sarah thought, watching as Dee straightened a bit of lace on Kate's dress. Dee and Larry had arrived barely an hour ago and Dee had taken all the last minute details in hand, shooing the men out of the church while the girls finished dressing. Through an open window, she could hear them laughing as they shared a bottle.

Sarah thought the simple ivory lace-over-satin gown suited her sister perfectly, emphasizing her slender curves and the soft rose glow of her complexion. The gown had been hanging in Kate's bedroom for a week. Since it was also Greg's bedroom, Dee had expressed concern.

"Isn't it bad luck if the groom sees the bride's gown before the wedding?" she mused.

Kate laughed.

"That's only if he sees me in the gown before the wedding," she said.

"Do you know how many times he's seen her out of her gown?" Sarah sputtered.

"Oh." Dee blushed. "Never mind."

Dee was glowing with her first pregnancy, a tiny bump just starting to show. Bobby and Ellen had arrived with their own obvious good news.

"The doctor says it's twins," Ellen said, resting a hand on the curve of her belly. "They're due in December."

Sarah studied the color in her sister's cheek with a critical eye. She thought Kate was glowing just a little more than the sparkling Indian summer afternoon dictated. Was it possible she and Greg were expecting again? That was fast work, she thought. They'd been together little more than a month. Maybe it was just the joy of the moment, she decided. Every bride looked wonderful on her wedding day.

"I hope it's not something in the water," Jim said quietly in her ear. Sarah jumped. He chuckled and putting an arm around her, led her away from where Dee was pinning up Kate's hair.

"I'm not drinking the water, just in case," Sarah said as they stepped outside. "Do you think she's . . .?"

"I'm trying not to think. But I've seen that look before, Sair, when she was on La Cava, after Greg was shot down, when she told me about Joy. She had that same glow." He shrugged, dismissing it, and let his eyes walk over her. "That color looks good on you." The admiration in his voice sent a warm thrill through her and she realized he'd rarely seen her in anything but khaki.

"Thank you. You clean up nice, too." She ran a hand down his tie. Jim and all the other Black Sheep were in full dress uniform for the occasion and the effect was staggering. She knew Tilly had been laying waste with laundry starch and shoe polish for the last three days and it had paid off. Earlier that morning, TJ had been wandering around without a shirt. When she questioned him, he told her Tilly ordered him to take it off so she could iron it. From the looks of it, she'd worked over a few of the others, too. Ties were snug and smooth, collars crisp and shoes polished to a reflective shine.

Jim wrapped an arm around her waist and they strolled through the sunshine. She thought about all the times she'd seen him in a flight suit, in fatigues, in skivvies, in nothing. She thought about the first time she'd met him, about thinking he wasn't the best looking guy she'd ever seen. She'd changed her mind. That good old boy smile, those dark eyes, the way he looked at her . . . the way his eyes held hers last night, the rough power of his body against her. . . She struggled to get a grip. Hearts really could skip a beat, she thought.

Jim held up a bottle.

"Drink?" he offered.

"Jim Gutterman, are you trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me?" She was scrambling to get her thoughts back in order.

"Darlin', there's no taking advantage of you. I've learned that by now. Casey brought this. He's got a whole case in the back of their car. It's General Moore's wedding gift. He sent his regrets."

Sarah took the bottle and tipped it up. The smoky taste of the Scotch lingering in her throat sent her straight back in time to the South Pacific. She closed her eyes. For just a moment, the bright, cool autumn afternoon vanished, replaced by heat, humidity and the roar of the squadron lifting off. Splashing in the surf with Jim and the dogs. Hot, stolen moments together, the ever-present threat that one of them might not come back from a mission or a patrol. She swallowed, blinked, aware Jim was studying her.

"Got you, too?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said slowly. "Just for a minute, I was back there . . ."

"I know. I can damn near hear Micklin yelling at us for wrecking his planes. College boys!" he mimicked. He took the bottle back and took a swallow. "Ever think you'd see this day?"

"What? Katie and Greg getting married? Or all of us being back in the States? Or – "

Jim turned to face her.

"Sarah, I –" he began. The look on his face was so intense it left her breathless. The breeze lifted heat from her cheeks and sent a shower of dry leaves cascading around them.

High heels clattered on the church steps behind them.

"Sarah Elizabeth!" Dee called out. "Get in here and get your flowers, it's almost time!"

"Better go, darlin'. " Jim picked a leaf off her shoulder. "Casey says it's best never to argue with a Navy nurse and he would know."

XXX

The bells pealed, their joyous music cascading out of the church steeple to roll over the surrounding hills.

After much discussion, it had been decided that as Greg's executive officers, Jim and Casey would both walk Kate down the aisle. Jim escorted Sarah, as maid of honor, to the front of the church, followed by Casey and Dee, who was serving as matron of honor. With both girls ensconced near the altar, the men returned to meet Kate. She took each of their arms and with the pianist playing Pachelbel's "Canon in D," walked slowly to the altar. She kissed each of them lightly on the cheek, then took Greg's arm.

In the front pew, Joy crawled away from Lizzie to sit between TJ and Helen French. As Sarah watched, the little girl wiggled restlessly, then climbed into TJ's lap and settled herself with obvious satisfaction. TJ looked surprised but put his hands around her little waist to kept her from sliding off. Sarah tried not to laugh.

Even Meatball was there, scrubbed to a state of unnatural whiteness and sitting quietly on the floor next to Don, who had a firm grip on his leash. Sarah noticed a small flower arrangement had been affixed to his collar. Leave it to Dee, she mused.

Everything was in place, Sarah thought, as the minister launched into an opening prayer. It was finally happening. Her sister was finally getting to marry the man she loved. She sighed with happiness. It was almost too romantic. In keeping with tradition, she and Dee had made sure Kate had gone into the day with something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.

Kate teased something old should be her favorite pair of leather boots, the ones she'd worn for the six months she was stationed on La Cava.

"She's not serious, is she?" Dee had hissed.

"God only knows," Sarah muttered, rummaging through the small flannel jewelry pouch she'd brought with her. "Here." She held out a small brooch encrusted with pearls and crystals. "It was our Grandma Cameron's. She would have loved Greg." Claire Cameron had been known for having a wild streak that lasted well into her 90s and Sarah and Kate privately joked that Kate inherited her drinking ability directly from her.

They agreed that something new was the set of lingerie Kate had bought to go under her gown. They were a soft shell pink that Sarah said reminded her of a South Pacific sunset.

"Don't ask to borrow them," Kate had said pointedly. Sarah had blushed and said, "I'm a redhead, I don't look good in pink." Kate grinned and Sarah – reading her sister's mind - deliberately added, "Besides, Jim prefers white lace."

When they got to something borrowed, they'd all had a good laugh. Kate had made a specialty out of borrowing clothes for years but was at a loss when it came to her wedding day. Dee loaned her a lace-trimmed handkerchief.

"In all the years I've known you, you have never had a handkerchief when you needed one," Dee said.

Something blue was easier. The lacy garter was woven through with ribbon the shade of Greg's eyes. Kate had slid it over her thigh, then smoothed down the tea-length skirt of her gown just as the bells began to ring, calling for the ceremony to start.

"Who gives this woman to be married to this man?" the minister asked, bringing Sarah back to the present.

"We do!" Jim, Casey, TJ, Don, Bobby Anderson, Bobby Boyle and Jerry called out in a boisterous chorus. Meatball barked. After all, she'd been his girl for nearly two years.

"Dearly beloved," the minister began, "we are gathered here today, in the presence of God and these witnesses, to join this man and this woman in holy marriage . . ."

Sarah looked across the altar. Jim met her eye and smiled. She remembered the first thing he'd said to her that day she'd shown up unannounced on La Cava, Raider at her side.

Your dog isn't gonna bite me, is he?

Her mind sifted through the memories. Returning to La Cava for her first R and R. The shooting match. Walking on the beach with him.

You said I couldn't get you drunk. You didn't say I couldn't kiss you.

And he had. Repeatedly.

"Therefore, if any man can show just cause why they may not be lawfully joined together, let him speak now or forever hold his peace."

Sarah thought anyone stupid enough to get between her sister and Greg at this point deserved what they got.

"We celebrate with them, the love they have discovered in each other and are here to witness their decision to commit themselves to one another. Love is a quality of spirit but marriage is a life's work . . . " The minister's voice faded as Jim held her eyes. He was grinning, sending her mind sailing back through time again.

Swimming with him in the lagoon, tumbling down onto the wet sand, half in, half out of the water, his mouth on hers.

One of these days, darlin', you're gonna get tired of telling me no.

She felt the heat rising in her cheeks. Jim arched his eyebrows. His grin got wider. She pulled her gaze away, to where Kate and Greg were starting their vows. The love they shared was nearly tangible. Had they ever imagined this day would come, Sarah wondered. Life was full of so many wonderful surprises.

"I take you, Katherine Christine Cameron, to be my wife . . ." Greg's voice was clear and low.

Waking up to find Jim sitting by her bed in the hospital after she'd been shot.

Honestly darlin', I'm not sure you should ever be left unattended.

". . . to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse . . . " Kate's answered quietly. "As long as we both shall live."

His hand stroking hair off her cheek, his voice unusually gentle, in their bed on Espritos.

Is that why you were biting your lip the whole time?

She felt herself flush hot and choked back a strangled cough. Why had her mind chosen that particular memory? Dee shot her a quizzical look. Sarah gazed demurely down at the bouquet she was holding and willed the color to fade from her cheeks. She chanced a sideways glance at Jim. He had given up any pretense of decorum and was grinning broadly.

"By the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. What God has joined together, let no man put asunder. You may kiss the bride." The minister was beaming. If the Empire of Japan hadn't put them asunder, Sarah rather doubted anything else stood a chance.

Greg pulled Kate into his arms and kissed her with a thoroughness that had the Black Sheep cheering and the minister looking slightly alarmed. If he knew half the things the bridal couple and their attendants had done, the poor man would have stroke, Sarah thought. The pianist began playing "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring," and the newly married couple swept down the aisle. Jim offered Sarah his arm and they followed.

XXX

The Harris' pulled out all the stops for the wedding dinner and the party lasted for hours. They pushed the furniture back and rolled up the rugs in the main house. Light and music spilled out into the autumn evening as the Black Sheep danced with everyone from Kate and Sarah to old Coretha Harris, who had a tendency to squeeze backsides when she thought no one was watching.

One at a time, the boys scooped a giggling Joy into their arms and whirled her around the impromptu dance floor until Lizzie took the little girl, sleepy and un-protesting, off to bed. TJ and Helen were enchanted with each other. Don rolled his eyes and pretended not to notice.

There were toasts to Greg and Kate, to Bobbie and Ellen and Casey and Dee who were recently married, to Danny Harris and Laura Halvorson who were soon to marry, to the Black Sheep and to Jim and Sarah, just because it seemed like the thing to do.

Kate sat on a chair and hiked up her skirt, then Greg slid the garter off her leg amidst much whistling and cat calling. He flipped it over his shoulder and TJ grabbed it in mid-air before it sailed into the punch bowl. Kate tossed her bouquet and the girls did a little strategic maneuvering to make sure Helen caught it. Around 3 in the morning, someone made a final toast to Meatball and everyone stumbled off to bed.

Ellen and Dee poured Bobby and Casey into their cars, along with several of the other Black Sheep and headed back to the hotel. TJ and Don linked arms with Greg, Kate, Jim and Sarah and they staggered, en masse, back to the gate house. After a number of lewd suggestions regarding sleeping arrangements, TJ and Don crashed downstairs in the parlor, while the couples found their rooms.

Sarah fell asleep within minutes of tumbling into Jim's arms, music still spinning through her mind.

XXX

Greg and Kate left late the next morning. They were headed to Niagara Falls for a brief honeymoon, then back to Washington, D.C., to meet with Brigadier General Moore about Greg's next posting. It looked like he wasn't ready to part company with the Marine Corps quite yet.

Joy stayed behind with the Murrays. The little girl was used to her mother's nomadic way of life and had been raised in such a circle of loving caregivers, she understood the people she loved sometimes left but they always came back.

After watching their car pull onto the main road at the end of the lane, Sarah put down her coffee mug. Turning to Jim, she said, "Let's go riding. I'm tired of listening to that racket." Don and TJ's snores could be heard through the closed parlor door, where they still sleeping off the previous night's excess.

"Darlin', I haven't been on a horse in four years." His voice managed to convey doubt and interest at the same time.

"They still work the same," she said. "I bet Michael has some boots you can borrow."

When further protests failed to discourage her, Jim gave up and went to find suitable trousers. Sarah thought he'd given in rather easily and wondered if he found having time on his hands as odd as she did. After the war years, time to oneself, to do as one pleased, without anyone telling you to do something else, was a tremendously guilty pleasure. She'd miss that when she returned to Cat Island, she thought.

After helping them tack up Possum and Tuxedo, Michael handed Possum's reins to Jim. Jim scratched the big gray horse comfortably on the neck but eyed the hunt seat saddle with distrust.

"I don't suppose ya'll got a real saddle around here," he said.

"You'll do fine. You've got a good seat." She winked as Michael gave her leg up onto Tuxedo. "Kate says Joy could ride Possum by herself, so I expect you'll manage."

"A nice ass is not the same thing as a good seat," he said, gingerly settling himself into the saddle.

They took the lane that edged along the paddocks and wound between the fields. Jim quit complaining about the saddle after Sarah pointed out if he could land an 8,000-pound Corsair on the rolling deck of an aircraft carrier he could probably stick on a 1,000-pound horse that wasn't going to leave the ground.

They rode aimlessly, with no particular destination in mind, easy with each other's company. The sun was bright and the autumn air sparkled like cider. Jim proved to be a more than competent rider and when Sarah cued Tuxedo for more speed, he and Possum matched them stride for stride as they thundered along the river.

They slowed as the track skirted the edges of fall-tilled fields, then rode through bare trees up into the low hills that fringed White Oak Farm on the north.

Sarah reined to a halt in a clearing on the ridge that overlooked the small valley below. The houses, barns, paddocks and schooling arena of White Oak sprawled in a tidy geometric design. The surrounding fields were a patchwork quilt in shades of brown, stitched together with the dark lines of fencerows. In spite of the midday sun, she felt a chill. Winter was coming. She didn't know where she'd be spending it.

Restless, she slid off Tuxedo and heard Jim do the same behind her, his boots hitting the ground with a soft thump. He groaned.

"God, Sarah, I'm not going to be able to get out of bed tomorrow morning."

She looked over her shoulder, laughing at his expression.

"That'll be an awful problem, now won't it?"

She inhaled deeply. The scent of freshly turned soil and decaying leaves hung on the air. Jim's hands were warm on her shoulders and she leaned back into his embrace.

"Sair, I've got a job waiting for me. Eddie's father-in-law wants me to come on as a pilot with McGivern Air, little place called Sand Spring, near Tulsa. Eddie's already there. They need me as quick as I can get there, they've still got a lot of late fall air seeding to do."

She turned to him, biting her lip.

"So you'll be leaving soon?"

"By the end of the week, at the latest."

She pulled away. Damnit to hell. Good-byes again. She took a deep breath, forced her shoulders back as she tried to gather her thoughts.

"Sarah."

Something in his voice made her turn around. Her eyes went wide.

Jim was down on one knee. He reached out and took both of her hands. Tuxedo's reins slipped from her numb fingers and the big red horse stood patiently, ears flicked forward with interest.

"I'm tired of saying good-bye to you." Jim's voice was rough. "I like waking up with you. I can deal with you beating me in poker. I don't mind that you can outshoot me. It scares me a little but so do some other things you do. I'm getting used to picking dog hair off everything I own when I'm around you. I don't know if you plan to stay in the Army but if you do, that's okay with me. We'll figure it out."

That good old boy's smile was back, the one that had been trouble since the first night she met him. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. Her heart was doing something completely erratic in her chest. Jim slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small jeweler's box. As he opened it, a ray of sunshine struck the round central diamond flanked by two smaller stones set in an Art Deco band. They sparkled like captured fire between his fingers.

"Sarah Cameron, will you marry me?"

Her heart was pounding against her ribs like a hammer. She was going to pass out if she didn't get more oxygen. The last two years flashed through her mind, a whirlwind of sensation and emotion. How many times had they kissed each other good-bye? If they had a song, it would be the sound of Corsairs and transport planes warming up in preparation to leave. The thought of spending the future together was an overwhelming dream, filled with unspoken promises.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice choked. "Yes!"

Jim slid the ring onto her unresisting finger where it blazed in the sunlight. He stood up.

"I knew one of these days you'd get tired of telling me no," he said, grinning.

Behind her, Tuxedo butted her gently in the back, shoving her into Jim's waiting arms.

XXX

The printed notice was so small, Colonel Thomas Lard almost missed it. In fact, he was in the process of throwing out that issue of Stars and Stripes when two familiar names leaped off the page at him from what passed as the paper's social column. Sitting in his quiet office on the base at Pearl Harbor – nowhere near an airstrip, thank God - sipping a mug of coffee and enjoying the current air of post war civility, he was trying to decide if he should go to a late luncheon or play golf.

But there they were, two names guaranteed to jar him out of the comfortable complacency of the morning: Cameron and Gutterman. He felt the ghost of his ulcer twinge. The only name missing in that unholy triumvirate was Boyington and Lard knew he'd already married the older Cameron girl. That had been a match made in . . . well . . . he didn't know where. He shook his head and read on.

Cameron, Gutterman wed

U.S. Army Captain Sarah Cameron and USMC Captain James W. Gutterman were married Nov. 28, 1945, in the First United Methodist Church at Sand Springs, Okla.

The bride was instrumental in the success of the first K9 scout units deployed in the Solomon Islands in the second half of World War II. She was honorably discharged from the Army and has been retained as a civilian consultant with the newly founded K9 defense program based in Fort Sill, Okla.

The groom flew with VMF 214, the highly decorated Black Sheep Squadron, as well as VMF 149, the Fighting Gryphons, where he is credited with leading that squadron to numerous, critical air victories in the later days of the war. He is currently employed as a pilot with McGivern-Gutterman Air Services in Sand Springs.

By God, he'd married her. That renegade Black Sheep had married K.C. Cameron's little sister. Both of those girls had been a law unto themselves. That probably explained how had they ended up with such regulation-defying pirates like Boyington and Gutterman.

Lard sipped his coffee and shook his head. There were some things he would just never understand.

EPILOGUE

Six months later

Sand Springs, Oklahoma

The puppies were seven weeks old. There were nine of them. Sarah told Nova she'd outdone herself for a first litter. They chased anything that moved and they bit like little alligators. Sarah loved each and every one of them. She'd held them the first minutes after they came into the world, recording their weights and kissing their noses before returning them to their watchful mother.

Sarah had been running around the yard, letting the puppies chase her and bite the soft rag she was dragging. Now, she sat with her back against the old cottonwood tree as they tumbled around her, snarling in mock battle, thrashing the rag and making occasional forays after the black and white tomcat who was perched on a porch railing.

Most of them would be leaving in a week or two, after she'd done the final temperament testing and structural evaluations. She'd take them to Fort Sill, where they'd be paired with handlers who would start laying the foundation for the Army's new military working dog program. The offspring of two proven – and decorated -working war dogs, the Army had been delighted to negotiate a contract with her to supply puppies from this and future litters, as well as her training skills and knowledge, to the fledgling program.

She was already researching bloodlines of American and European dogs who'd proven themselves during the war. If Eddie could spare him for a day, she and Jim planned to drive up to Stillwater soon to look at a Belgian malinois who'd served in France and Germany. His owner might be willing to provide stud services for a puppy in return, the next time she bred Nova.

Sarah looked at her watch. Jim would be home soon and she really ought to get supper started, but the soft heat of the late spring day made it pleasant to just sit here with the puppies and let her mind drift. She let her hand rest across her belly, a smile curving her lips.

She really needed to tell him but she hadn't figured out how to do it yet. They'd talked about starting a family but put it off amidst the upheaval of moving to Oklahoma and Eddie and Jim's partnership as they took over the air service from Eddie's father. She'd been traveling to consult at Fort Sill and they'd bought a small acreage just outside of Sand Springs.

Then there'd been the unexpected breeding between Raider and Nova. While Sarah would have preferred sticking to purebred bloodlines, she'd be the first to say both of the dogs brought a lot of desirable qualities to the table and Alsatian/Belgian crosses were not unheard of in the working dog community.

The dogs had taken advantage of human error at a critical time. Jim had unwittingly let Raider into the fenced exercise yard without realizing Sarah had already turned Nova out while she'd gone to the barn to feed their two saddle horses and the chickens. By the time Jim had found her and said, "Darlin', we got a problem," it was too late. Sixty-three days later, Nova delivered what Sarah had started calling the Black Sheep litter – nine reckless, bold, brawling puppies who took trouble to new heights.

There'd been a lot of new life this year. Kate had delivered Gregory James eight months after their wedding, confirming both Sarah and Jim's suspicions of that day. Bobby and Ellen's twins – girls – had come in December, and Casey and Dee's baby boy was born just a month ago. It might not have been something in the water but the post-war optimism for a bright future was swelling maternity wards from coast to coast.

It had been two months now and she was sure. She knew exactly when it had happened, two days after the puppies were born. She remembered making love while a late-season storm hurled sleet against the windows, remembered covering Jim's hand as he reached for the drawer in the bedside table.

"No," she'd whispered, "not this time."

He hadn't argued, just smiled and said, "Whatever you want, darlin'."

She'd been mildly surprised two weeks later when she missed her first period. She hadn't expected it to happen quite that fast but had been elated when she missed the second month, confirming what she suspected. She was sure Jim would be as happy as she was, but she just wasn't sure how to tell him. It was going to have to be soon. She was already noticing subtle changes in her body.

One of the puppies found a stick and enticed the others to chase him. This ended up in a brawl, during which the stick was captured by the female puppy Sarah had absently started calling Reveille. While the rest of the litter was snarling and wrestling, Rev captured the prize and took it away to chew. She looked like Nova and acted like Raider and Sarah was hard pushed to stay one step ahead of her in terms of puppy training.

From the front of the house, she heard Raider woof as a pickup turned into the lane. The slam of a vehicle door was followed by a volley of barks. Sarah closed her eyes and could see the big shepherd in her mind's eye – every tooth in his mouth showing, tail lashing, leaping ecstatically. Raider loved welcoming Jim home and made a show of it every day.

Jim stepped through the gate into the back yard and was immediately mobbed. Raider, wisely, stayed on the other side of the fence. His collective offspring were a little overwhelming, even to him.

"Dear God, Sarah, they're like a feral pack!" Jim laughed as Rev dropped her stick and immediately attached her teeth to his pants leg. He pried her loose and scooped her up. Two others immediately attached themselves in her wake, growling fiercely.

"Consider their parents. Help me up," she said, pushing puppies off her lap with one hand and raising the other. He pulled her easily to her feet. Reveille had started tugging on the collar of his work shirt. Sarah took a deep breath. No time like the present.

She reached out and gripped his free hand, placing his rough palm against her still-flat belly.

"There's something you need to know."

His face broke into a slow smile, the same one that had captured her unsuspecting heart two years and countless thousands of miles ago. He kissed her, a slow, hot promise which was exactly how her condition had started in the first place, she thought, her heart pounding.

"Darlin', I wondered when you were going to tell me."

THE END

Thank you for sticking with me to the end of this tale. I never intended for it to be this long. When I started, I thought it would be fun to write a quick romance between Jim and Sarah and that would be that. Yeah. Ninety-thousand-odd words later, it's done.

I've had a tremendous amount of fun playing with these characters, in this universe, and am glad you were along for the ride with me. I don't claim to be an expert on the USMC, WWII, firearms or anything military – but that didn't stop me and thank you for overlooking or gently correcting the worst of my errors.

I'm publishing this on Memorial Day weekend 2016. Please take a moment to remember the veterans – human and canine – who have given their lives to protect our country and our freedoms.