Chapter 34

Mac stood in the main terminal at Dulles airport, watching as people walked past her. Harriet stood next to her, blond head swiveling as she searched up and down the long, broad area.

"There it is! I told you I smelled Starbucks." Harriet grabbed her friend's arm, dragging her a step in the proper direction.

Mac chuckled at her antics. "Must be new. I don't remember a Starbucks on this end." She matched her stride to the shorter woman's as they made their way toward the coffee shop. They got into line behind a couple of travelers and Mac got out her purse.

"My treat, Harriet. It's the least I can do after dragging you off to the airport."

Harriet shook her head. "It's fine, ma'am. We're still having a night out, aren't we?" She looked around. "How long did you say the commander's flight was delayed?"

Mac sighed. "Another forty minutes, last I checked." Harm had wrapped up his investigation a day early and changed his flight home. He'd offered to catch a cab rather than take her away from her plans, an offer she was beginning to wish she'd taken him up on. Bad weather over the Midwest had delayed the flight, which she hadn't learned until she and Harriet reached the airport. It was beginning to look like they'd be spending the entire evening there, waiting for Harm's flight to arrive.

Telling herself to make the best of it, she ordered a mocha for herself and a chai latte for Harriet, then the two women found a table off toward the edge of the cramped space.

"Ahhh." Harriet took a sip of her drink. "I love these things."

"You have an unhealthy attachment to all things Starbucks, Lieutenant."

Harriet laughed, unperturbed, and changed the subject. "So, how are things going with you and Harm?"

Mac had to smile. Harriet didn't mess around when it came to girl talk. "Pretty well," she allowed, feeling her cheeks heat. Harm seemed to have grown much more comfortable with touching her recently. It was as if she'd somehow convinced him that it was safe to loosen the reins on his self-control a little bit. But whether that was simply because she'd said 'No', or because she'd managed to convince him that she wouldn't fall apart if he was a smidgen less than the perfect gentleman...

She shook herself out of her thoughts and shrugged at Harriet's questioning look. "Sorry."

"Oh, don't apologize, ma'am. I'm just glad to see you looking happy."

Mac chuckled, looking down. "We're getting there, anyway."

Harriet cocked her head. "Care to be a little more specific? Honestly, Bud and I were expecting a wedding invitation by now."

"Harriet! Harm and I have been dating for, what, five months?"

"So? Don't tell me you actually have doubts about whether he's the right guy." Harriet's face fell by degrees. "Do you?"

Mac shook her head quickly. "Oh, no. Not at all."

"Then... the commander?"

"Harriet!" She caught her friend's hand. "We're o.k. Really. We're just... taking it slow."

Harriet's eyebrows slowly rose as she sorted through all the possible interpretations of that statement.

Mac watched her in amusement. "I can probably tell you to the day when he'll propose, and I assure you it's not going to be for a while yet."

Harriet blinked, looking perplexed. "Why not? If you don't mind my asking, of course."

Mac swirled her coffee in its cup before taking a sip. "It's all right." She sighed softly, sorting her thoughts. "I think... we've both needed the time. He needed to know that I'm willing to wait for him, and I've needed to become convinced that I'm worth waiting for." She flashed Harriet a bright smile. "So we're waiting."

Harriet didn't say anything for a moment. Her blue eyes studied Mac with piercing intensity. "That's good, Mac," she eventually said, with an air of finality that the Admiral himself wouldn't have dared contradict. "Every woman ought to be treated like a lady, but you really deserve it. More than most people I've met." The firm stare faltered as Harriet glanced away. "To tell the truth, it always made me mad to see you acting... cheap. You deserve so much more." Her gaze darted to Mac's, defiant and a little frightened.

Mac pressed her lips together in a thin line. "It's o.k.," she assured Harriet, despite how the word stung. "You're right." She sighed. "Most of my life... I've felt cheap. Like the Marine uniform and the law degree and the officer's code of ethics were all just pretty wrapping paper I was using to try to make myself look like a better person."

"But, Colonel, you're a wonderful person—"

Mac couldn't help an embarrassed laugh. "Thanks, Harriet."

"I mean it, Mac." Harriet stared at her with earnest seriousness. "You're strong and smart and compassionate and you'll do just about anything to help someone who needs it..."

For the first time in her life, Mac didn't feel an overwhelming desire to hide her face in shame at the praise. She met Harriet's gaze.

"I think the caliber of the people who are my friends says more than anything else about the kind of person I am," she returned matter-of-factly and had the satisfaction of seeing her friend blush. She raised her coffee in silent toast.

Harriet chuckled. "Well, shall we go see what the flight schedule is saying?"

#

"Sarah Mackenzie! I'm looking for Sarah Mackenzie!"

Mac looked around in surprise at the sound of an unfamiliar voice calling her name. She and Harriet had taken up station a little ways off to the side of the security checkpoint to wait for Harm, watching as intermittent throngs of people came through. Now, she craned her head to look for the source of the voice and was surprised to see a blond man in his mid-thirties—a businessman by the look of his rumpled suit and garment bag—approach.

"Are you Sarah Mackenzie?" he asked with an engaging smile.

Uncertain, Mac nodded.

"Then this is for you." He produced a long-stemmed red rose from behind his back and extended it toward her.

"Uh..." Mac had no idea what to make of the entire encounter.

The businessman chuckled. "I'm also supposed to tell you that waiting is overrated."

"What?"

He laughed again, showing perfect, if slightly coffee stained teeth. "Waiting is overrated. You're supposed to know what it means."

Slowly, Mac reached out to take the rose. She sniffed it out of pure habit, meeting the man's eyes over the petals. "Thank you." She didn't know what else to say.

"You're welcome. Now, as much as I'd love to watch this all play out, I have an appointment to keep. It was nice meeting you, Ms. Mackenzie." He gave her a friendly nod, then he was gone.

A moment later, a round grandmotherly woman stepped up to her. She, too, held a red rose in her hand, which she extended toward Mac. "Here, dearie. This is for you."

Mac accepted the rose, suspicion rising as quickly as the heat in her cheeks. "Ma'am, did a tall, Navy commander happen to put you up to this?"

The woman winked. "Don't let him get away, dearie. That one's a keeper."

Beside Mac, Harriet started to giggle. Mac glanced at her as the unknown woman stepped aside.

"Not a word, Harriet," she warned, her lips twitching.

Harriet mimed turning a key in front of her own mouth, her eyes dancing.

The next person to bring her a rose was a young woman with bright pink streaks in her hair and a ring in her nose. She looked Mac over with grudging approval. A mother with two young children followed her. She handed Mac the rose with a quick smile and an apology as the baby in her arms grinned toothlessly, red petals clenched in either chubby fist. An older couple stepped up a moment later, each carrying another rose.

More people approached her, until Mac was shaking her head in a combination of laughter and disbelief. As the pile of roses in her arms grew larger, she began to search the oncoming stream of people, looking for a distinctive figure.

"I swear, Harriet, he conned an entire airplane full of people into helping him embarrass me."

"Actually, miss, it was only the front third or so. He didn't have enough roses for the entire flight."

Mac blinked in surprise at the uniformed man who materialized in front of her. It took her a moment to realize his uniform was that of an airline pilot. He was a bit shorter than Harm and about fifteen years older, but carried himself with the same kind of confidence she associated with her flyboy.

"And I don't think the commander is trying to embarrass you."

Mac accepted the rose the captain held out to her, smiling abashedly. "I know. Thank you." She indicated the flower in her hand.

He grinned, waving her off. "I'm always happy to help out a fellow Naval aviator."

With a wink, the captain walked over to join a gaggle of stewards and stewardesses from the same airline who waited with the growing crowd around Mac.

Three roses later, she spotted Harm. He strolled down the causeway like he didn't have a care in the world, the gold wings on his Class A's glinting in the overhead lighting. He carried his briefcase in one hand and a single long stemmed red rose in the other. His cover was tucked in the crook of his arm.

He slowed as he approached, his carefree expression settling into something more intense. His eyes met hers, seeming to spear straight through her.

Mac didn't let him have the first word. "Hey, sailor," she said when he was still a couple of steps away.

His smile appeared like magic. He flourished the rose, its wine-red color perfect against his navy blue lapels, then laid it on top of the huge bouquet she now held.

"Hello, Sarah." For a moment, his gaze flickered to the side and he inclined his head. "Harriet. I hope I haven't ruined your evening out."

Harriet laughed. "No, sir, I think you've made my entire day."

He turned his attention to the younger woman just long enough to wink. Then Mac lost herself in his gaze once again.

"Are you ready for this?" Harm asked, his eyes laughing.

"That depends on what you're planning to do." Mac wasn't frightened, exactly. But she was still having trouble catching her breath.

His smile deepened. "Then I suggest you brace yourself, Marine."

As she watched, Harm set his briefcase down, balancing his cover atop it. But rather than straightening, he sank to one knee in front of her.

Mac's gasp was drowned out by Harriet's, but she couldn't spare any attention for the lieutenant. Her entire world consisted of Harm's face and the diamond ring he produced from somewhere on his person. She knew what was coming, and still the words sent her heart straight into the clouds.

"Sarah Mackenzie, will you marry me?"

The roses landed in a heap at her feet. "Yes." She mouthed the word more than said it because her voice refused to function. Harm understood well enough, however, and his grin grew huge. He stood and slipped the simple solitaire onto her finger.

At that moment, Mac couldn't have described the diamond ring she wore to save her life. Nor did she look at it now. There would be plenty of time for admiring later. Instead, she threw her arms around her sailor's neck and leaned into his kiss. Around them, the crowd of people—rose-bearing strangers, passersby, and one very excited Navy lieutenant—burst into applause.

Mac was laughing in a combination of joy and exhilaration as they separated. "'Waiting is overrated'?" she asked curiously, cocking one eyebrow at Harm.

He chuckled, looking down. "Yeah." His shrug was guileless. "I didn't want to wait another year and a half."

Mac reached up to cup his cheek, the diamond on her hand winking gently. "Neither did I." She let the weight of the moment, the depth of her feelings for this man, settle on her. "But I would have."

"I know."