The Captain's Lady (29 page)

Why had he done it? Was he coming back? Was he intending on being a husband to her? And what about a father to Rachel? The questions continued to swarm like wasps as she leaned back on the bed cuddling her baby, attempting to squelch the anxiety her baby was picking up from her.

Eric returned later that night. The sight before him struck a deep chord within. Abby was curled up on the bed, fully clothed, cuddling a sleeping Rachel. “M
y wife,"
he whispered to himself.

He wanted nothing more than to lie down beside her and pull all that warm softness into his arms. Only the thought of her earlier rejection still burned deep inside him, a barrier now between them. He was a coward for leaving, but was not prepared to give her that kind of power over him by admitting that he loved her. He did not know when it happened, when he'd fallen in love with them. What did it matter? The feeling was all consuming now.

Then he knew. He'd fallen in love with her the moment he saw her laying on the deck of his ship, battered and bruised. Alone.

This was his wedding night. They should be wrapped in each other's arms. Sharing thoughts. Dreams. Sadness tore through him. He quietly covered them with a blanket, stopping to take a last look, and somehow resisting the urge to lean down and kiss the soft round cheek. He gathered his personal items and left. Eric paused briefly in the passageway before steeling himself, and then headed with determination down to Joe's cabin where he knew there was a pullout couch.

When Abby woke in the morning, she sat up slowly, blinking at the different surroundings. She shot a lingering glance over at the peaceful, sleeping baby. She had put her back in the makeshift cradle at some time in the night after Rachel roused her for a feeding. That was when she'd realized Eric had been there and covered them with a blanket. How long had he stood watching them? Had he thought to wake them, to heave them out of his cabin?

Abby stood up and stretched. And realized something. All his personal items were gone. She dropped back onto the bed. The familiar ache in the pit of her stomach came back, throbbing without mercy, doubling her over with the urge to be physically ill.

Then the hurt turned to anger and she balled her fists at his act of cowardice. Yes, that's what cowards did. They sneaked in under the cover of darkness. Overpowered by the hopelessness of the situation, she slumped down on the bed. There was a sharp knock on the door of the outer office. At first she ignored it. Then, thinking it might be something important for Eric, she got up and hurried to the door of the cabin, to find Petey standing there with a tray.

She stepped aside so he could bring it in. He averted his eyes, asking only where she wanted the tray. The awkwardness of the situation hung in the air, pricking at her nerves. She was embarrassed at being the object of such scrutiny.

She motioned with her hand to the empty round table in the corner. “Over there is fine.” Abby tried to still her shaky hands by tucking the tangled blonde hair behind her ears. Petey hurried to place the tray on the table, turned, and gave her a quick pitying glance. Then he flushed, pausing long enough to ask if she needed anything else.

Squelching the surge of emotion and forcing a bright smile on her face, she shook her head. “No, but thank you,” she said and prayed she would not burst into tears in front of him.

Without a backward glance, he left.

She resented the feeling that she was the object of scrutiny and gossip on the ship. She allowed her imagination to run away with her, wondering in that moment what Eric had told everyone.

Meanwhile, he strode on the bridge of the ship, feeling the vessel's surge of power beneath his feet. Speaking briefly with the operations officer, he reviewed the report from the intelligence officer from the night watch. He was short tempered and exhausted, unable to remain focused. Not even the draw of the expanse of the sea out the large window of the bridge gave him any reprieve from the desolation he was feeling.

A cursory review of the POD was no interest to him as his thoughts wandered back to the awkward moment last night when he dragged his gear into Joe's quarters. Plunking it onto the couch he was unable to miss the startled look on his friend's face.

Eric was not surprised when Joe strode to the door and closed it tight to prevent eavesdropping. “What happened?"

Releasing a heavy sigh, Eric had conceded that he desperately needed to talk to someone. “I should have expected it; it did seem almost too good to be true.” At the puzzled look on his friends’ face he knew he was being cryptic and he shrugged. He'd never been able to express his feelings. That came from years of hiding them so well. All the pain of rejection had built a wall so thick and high around him it was almost impossible for anyone to get in.

"Eric, what are you talking about, what was too good to be true?” Joe leaned against the doorframe, watching with concern.

"I told her I married her to protect her and Rachel. I asked her to trust me. I thought she did, but it's obvious I was mistaken. I have no idea what's wrong, but she pulled away, turned her back on me."

Joe thrust his hands through his hair. “Are you telling me you just walked out? That you didn't stay and work through it? You didn't even tell her how you felt about her?"

Eric could do no more than shrug one shoulder.

"You really can be a stupid ass sometimes. Although I'm no expert on women, it sounds like you probably bungled the whole thing.” Joe stepped close and took hold of his shirtsleeve. “Get up. Go tell her how you feel!"

"She doesn't want to hear anything I have to say."

Over the next few weeks, Eric managed to bury himself in work, the high seas hostilities that had been building for months, with heavily armed speedboats darting near the US ships. They were taunting them. Was Seyed there; was he one of them? He knew the CIA still searched for him. Did Seyed know she was here? Eric was no longer sure of his plan to hide her ashore and pretend she was still aboard. He needed to know she was here, where he could look in on her at night. Although Abby consumed every thought, he fought to immerse himself in each department, even personally taking charge of a few ships’ boarding, to the crew's dismay. He was the captain; he was not to be taking these risks.

Eric avoided Abby, making sure she and the baby had everything they needed, while maintaining a cool distance. Even though, deep down he knew it was an act of cowardice, he just wasn't willing to face her and open up his tormented heart once again. He was not sure he would be able to survive it; although he'd never exposed his heart to her completely, it was more than he ever had, and no way was he giving her the power to hurt him. Part of him urged him to go to her. Talk it through.

But he could not.

No, he thought, it was better this way. She was safe now. He would make sure they were set up in a house and provided for. Then, and only then, would he file for divorce. He would return to the only life that had given him peace; his first love, the sea. It was during one of these discussions with himself that realization hit him. The soothing balm he always found in this life at sea was not there anymore, no matter how long he paced the deck or stared at the dark, churning water. All he felt was this hollow emptiness, deep inside. Hollow emptiness aching to be filled by her softness.

Forget it. It was not going to happen, and the sooner he came to grips with it, the better off he would be.

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Chapter Thirty-Four

It was just over two weeks since they were married. Abby kept herself busy with Rachel, losing herself in her spare time with books that Larry sent to their quarters. Although spacious, this cabin was feeling claustrophobic. Consumed with overwhelming loneliness, most of the time she wanted to pound the walls and scream her frustration. She missed her husband terribly. Where was he? The longing she felt to have him wrap his arms around her and tell her everything would be all right left her feeling more desolate than she'd ever been before.

A quick rap on the door made her heart flip-flop. Leaping up, she ran to the door hoping Eric would be there, but knew deep down he never would have knocked. She was disappointed to see Joe there. But at least it was someone to talk to. Her relief was short-lived, seeing the smiling concern in his eyes.

"Can I come in?” He gestured with his hand. “Can we talk a moment?"

"Oh yes, p-please come in. I'm sorry.” Nervously she stammered, holding the door open until he walked in. “Sit, please."

She frowned as she remained by the door. Her eyes flickered toward Eric's empty desk. But the boundaries were set. She would be trespassing to even consider sitting in that chair.

Joe held out a hand and directed her to the couch. Abby felt awkward as she numbly strode across the carpeted floor and sat down. He followed, sitting beside her in the chair. He leaned forward and braced solid tanned forearms on his knees.

"Eric and I have been friends a long time. I don't know all the details and I don't want to intrude.” She started to speak. He held up a hand to stop her, reached over, and covered her hand with his. “Please, Abby, let me finish."

She paused, just staring at his hand, before giving a reluctant nod.

"I'm pretty sure he has never told you how he feels about you, and unless I miss my guess, I believe you've never told him as well. You do love him, don't you?"

A lone tear traced its way down her cheek. She reached up and swiped roughly at it, then offered a quick nod as she met his kind eyes. Suddenly all her pent-up misery began spilling out. Joe pulled out a handkerchief and shook out the folds. Blowing her nose softly, she drew a shaky breath, biding time so she could speak. “He only married me to protect us,” she whispered and gestured toward the bedroom where Rachel was sleeping. “I don't know why he did it and it hurts to feel like such an obligation."

Abby was struck with a gnawing doubt as puzzlement furrowed his eyes. Then, just as quickly they narrowed with a cutting sharpness, scrutinizing her. “You do realize why he wanted to protect you, don't you?"

She was catapulted down a blind road, confused as to what was really going on. Maybe she'd been wrong. She'd presumed he felt only pity for her. When she looked back up at Joe, there was some spark of knowing that shimmered on his face, in his eyes, his demeanor as it reached out to her.

Needing to know, she found herself merely shrugging her shoulders.

With a deep sigh, he propped his elbow on his knee, cradling the rounded chin in the palm of his hand. “Abby, do you know anything about Eric's childhood?"

She tensed and then leaned forward in interest. “Some. Well, not much."

Joe had the most amazing eyes. Funny she hadn't noticed before. Those eyes were studying her now. “I have to tell you that, as his friend, I'm privy to some of the things about you as well. Your backgrounds are so similar; it does not surprise me there was a connection between you two. You see, Eric was abandoned at a young age and spent almost his entire childhood bouncing from one foster home to another, in and out of Juvenile Hall, until he joined the Navy. He has never had a serious relationship with any woman."

Abby stifled her surprise. Yes, he spent most of his time aboard ship, but she'd assumed that in port—

"Over the years as he's kept that wall of stone up around his heart. He's afraid of being rejected ... by you. Don't look so surprised. You must've sensed this.” Joe shrugged. “And when you turned your back on him I know he felt you'd rejected him."

Joe sat up straight now; the light blue eyes though, maintained contact with hers. “Instead of him staying and talking things out, he did the only thing he felt safe doing, putting the wall back up ... to protect his heart."

Her mouth fell open. Her tongue sputtered unintelligible words; her hands waved frantically in the air. “But that's not true, I didn't reject him. I was hurt that he didn't tell me he loved me ... that he'd married me out of pity, some sense of obligation."

"He'll probably kill me for telling you this, but I'm asking you to reach out to him, to bridge this gulf between you. Please, Abby, make the first move. I've never seen him look at another woman the way he looks at you and I can honestly tell you, I feel you two belong together. But you need to help him."

Going on pure instinct, she allowed the words to sink into her heart. His private confidence gave her mind clarity. “Joe, why
did
he marry me? No, don't look at me that way; he admitted it was to protect me. If it wasn't pity for me having nothing to go back to, what was it?"

Joe's face hardened. “That, you'll have to get out of him yourself. And if he's not able to tell you, please don't take it as a rejection. He loves you so much he'll do anything to protect you. Just remember that ... will you?"

She felt her heart leap with joy. Then she swallowed a lump of sudden anticipation and gave a quick nod. “This is hard for me, too, but oh yes, I'll do it."

Except this lack of experience left her unexpectedly at a loss. She rose and began pacing, thinking. She stopped in front of him as a thought hit her. “Joe, could you get him here? I mean, I haven't seen him since he walked out. He hasn't even come to see Rachel,”
but I've dreamt that he's been here while we've been sleeping
.

"I'll get him here; do you have something in mind?” Joe propped his foot across his knee, a smile lighting his face.

Smiling sweetly, the idea took form and she filled him in on the plan. For the rest of the afternoon, she couldn't stop beaming. Her face began to hurt from all the happiness and unexpected hope. Rachel whimpered and she went to pick up the baby. She unbuttoned her shirt. “Oh Rachel, we're going to get him back. You're going to have your daddy. I promise."

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Chapter Thirty-Five

Although her breasts had filled out from nursing Rachel, Abby's otherwise shapely self gradually reemerged. It was a little more than a month since she'd arrived here. It almost seemed like another lifetime. The fears that had plagued her were still there, but not in a paralyzing way. They'd morphed to just a dull ache.