True Valor (21 page)

He looked over at her, intrigued with the relaxed posture as much as by the question. “Why?”

“I don’t feel guilty for stopping to enjoy it.”

“A touch of guilt over time off? Now that’s no way to live.”

“It goes in streaks.”

“I was going to suggest we go skydiving this weekend, but that might break your safety streak.”

“I’m made to fly the plane, not jump out of it. I saw the pictures in your hall. You’ve got a few jumps under your belt.”

“A few. Rich and I like to go up on our time off.”

“What plans did I just interrupt? Were you planning to jump with him this weekend?”

“Grace, standing up Rich is a pleasure. Good buddies are the kind that conveniently disappear when three is a crowd.”

“Jill and Wolf just disappeared.”

“In this case I think Wolf wanted to kiss Jill without doing it in front of big brother so that I don’t have to show my ingrained protective streak.”

She chuckled. “Probably true. Your sister is good for my cousin.”

“It’s mutual.” Bruce watched Grace as he finished his coffee. “Incirlik shook Wolf up.”

“I know.”

He waited, wondering whether she’d add anything else. She didn’t.

How many Incirliks were part of her makeup? How many close calls and surviving because she did her job with perfection were part of her history? He’d changed because of Ecuador and other similar nights. Grace had her own set of such places and times.

Bruce heard Wolf and Jill before he saw them, his sister laughing. “They look good together.”

“Yes, they do. I’m glad I introduced them.” She smiled. “Someone has to watch out for Wolf.”

* * *

“You don’t have to stay by my side all weekend.”

Bruce—warm, content, and half thinking about dozing—opened one eye long enough to glance at Grace. “I’m perfectly content to shadow you for the weekend. I see no reason to let another PJ have your time. They’ll just tell you stories about me that aren’t entirely true.”

She laughed as she settled back in the patio chair with her plate. The gathering that had ebbed and flowed in numbers over the weekend had come to the hotel poolside to enjoy lunch and have some fun. Jill had invited friends, Wolf had put the word out to other SEALs coming down for the training class, and the PJs had gotten the word through Rich—it was a good group, a diverse mix of Navy and Air Force. There was a miniature golf game in progress on the hotel’s six-hole course; the water volleyball game was in a temporary lull. Grace swam earlier in the day, then changed into shorts and a white top. Bruce was comfortable keeping station in a chair and letting the others flow around him, in no hurry to join in. He was going to talk Grace into coming down to the beach later.

“I’m amazed at your ability to simply relax in the midst of this. You’re not exactly lazy, you just . . . conserve energy,” Grace commented.

“Should I thank you? I think that was a compliment.”

“It was.”

“I choose where I want to put my attention,” Bruce replied.

“You’re watching me again.”

He smiled. “I enjoy watching you.”

A shadow blocked out the sun. “Lunch is over; you ready for that swim?”

Bruce looked up at Wolf, amused. “I thought you learned your lesson last time.”

“Come on, Striker. I want a rematch.”

Bruce looked over at Grace. She just quirked an eyebrow.

He looked back at his friend. “Okay, Wolf; you’ve got your rematch.” He wasn’t above showing off a bit. He got up.

“Rich calls it. The man who swims the farthest before coming up for air wins.”

“Fine with me,” Bruce agreed.

PJs and SEALs suspended the golf game as word spread, and they began assembling at the deep end of the pool.

“Men—they’re nothing but boys at heart,” Jill remarked, making Grace laugh. “Go, Wolf!”

Bruce glanced over at his sister and smiled. “I’m sorry, sis. He’s going to lose.”

“You hate the water,” she replied confidently.

Respect
was closer to the right word, but that was beside the point. Bruce had no intention of losing. He glanced at Grace, who had moved to sit on the end of the nearby recliner, watching them. She was enjoying this. He turned his attention to the pool and the challenge.

He knew Wolf. This was going to be a race measured not in a lap but in how many laps. The shallow end of the pool would be a big problem. He couldn’t kick and keep momentum going through those last five feet, and trying to do so would just cost extra energy. Holding his breath was all about controlling how much energy was needed that would take oxygen. Distance was the bottom line for this race, not speed covering that distance. He’d go with his strength—that push off from the walls. Bruce nodded to himself, deciding that strategy would serve him best.

Wolf was stretching, stationing himself at the edge of the deep end, preparing to dive in. Bruce dropped into the water, choosing not to start from a diving position. He heard the puzzled comments and ignored them.

“Ready, gentlemen?” Rich called. “Get set. Go!”

Wolf dove into the pool.

Bruce dropped below the surface and pushed off from the wall.

Wolf had already lost. Bruce knew it. All he had to do was go farther than Wolf, and since he was following, he wasn’t the one spending energy trying to set the pace. Doing just a little bit more than someone else was easy. Out in front, Wolf would have to turn to see where he was.

Wolf made the turn in the shallows as Bruce approached. Under the water, Bruce saw Wolf’s foot strike the stairs. Learning from it, Bruce used his hands to provide his momentum and made his own push from the wall as hard as he could so he would propel past the stairs before the momentum dropped.

It set the pattern for the race. By the second lap, Wolf had set out to increase his speed. By the third lap, Wolf had gained a full lap on him. By lap five, Bruce saw Wolf’s pace slow. Bruce fought the fact his lungs were burning as he approached the wall in the deep end and made certain he put maximum power in the push-off. He was limiting his actual swimming to only what was necessary to keep him straight.

Wolf finally broke the surface for air.

Bruce had been lapped twice; he did his best to put out of his mind the fact he was now the only one swimming. It had been so much easier to follow Wolf. Four more laps. He decided it even as he had to purse his lips in a fight against the overwhelming pressure to breathe. He wanted air, desperately. He’d get air after he accomplished his goal.

He kept swimming.

Under the water, noises were distorted. He could hear several people yelling his name. He finally let himself drift toward the surface after making the turn for lap four. He had won, but that hadn’t been the reason he had determined to stay down for that extra lap. Bruce floated on his back and sucked in oxygen.

“You’re a black manatee.”

He glanced at Wolf and saw the man holding the edge of the pool, breathing hard.

“Energy and desire. I wanted it more than you did,” Bruce replied, timing words for breath.

“You earned it.”

Wolf pulled himself from the pool. Bruce eventually swam to the side and accepted Wolf’s offer of a hand out.

Grace was waiting with a towel and he took it with a murmured thanks. “You held your breath forever.”

He swiped his finger across Grace’s nose, smiling at her.

“Why?” she whispered.

He looked at her, then glanced at Wolf. “He needs to know I can rescue him, no matter what the jam,” he said. “I have to be able to last longer than him underwater if I’m going to be able to help him. Help any of them.”

“Another PJ to SEAL silent message.”

“We depend on each other, Grace. Testing the man beside you during peace time is how you trust him in war.”

“Wolf trusts you.”

“I know. Which is why I had to beat him. I plan to keep that trust.”

“You swam with your watch on.”

He looked down and winced. “Not waterproof either.”

“I was afraid it wasn’t.”

He slid it off and held it up. “My birthday . . . Drop a hint to Wolf to replace it.”

She laughed softly as she took it and dropped it into her pocket. “I can probably manage that.”

* * *

He was a fascinating man. Grace watched Bruce as he maneuvered through the crowded room carrying a pilot’s special for her. She’d chosen the place for dinner, a memory from her days training in Pensacola. The music was loud. The seafood restaurant packed. It was hard to hear. She was surrounded by a mass of Air Force personnel and felt a little like she had invaded enemy territory. Not that the Bear Cubs seemed to mind. Wolf and Cougar could make friends anywhere, and they had found Rich, which was all it took to form a tall tale table.

Wolf was telling Jill some tale and being helped along in the storytelling with great delight by Cougar and Rich. Grace smiled, watching. It was wonderful to see the Bear Cubs enjoying a night of fun.

Bruce was going to turn her life upside down. Grace could feel it. And she couldn’t say she minded. He fit in here, just like he fit around the group this afternoon at the pool, as he had fit in during Jill’s deployment party.

“Are you sure this is your idea of a fun evening out?”

Grace laughed at the hopeful tone under that question as she took the glass Bruce offered her. “It’s not so bad. They are all just a bit younger than I remember.”

“Seasoned crews normally hang out at the restaurant down on the pier.”

“I’ve been there. Quieter, sedated, not as much fun.”

He settled beside her at the small table and tugged over the basket. “Better munchies, sports TV you can hear, thicker menus . . .”

“Your age is showing.”

He smiled. “A little.”

She smiled back at him and clicked her glass with his after sampling it. “Not bad. Not exactly on recipe but pretty good.”

“Give me enough time to practice.” He nodded to the other table. “Think I should go rescue Jill? She’s like a little piece of china among that crowd of guys.”

“Remove her from the center of attention? You wound me. Wolf is keeping good care of her.”

“It’s the principle of the thing.”

“Sure it is.” She rather liked seeing this side of the man; Jill would always be his little sister. “I like you, Bruce.”

He winked at her. “It’s mutual, Miss Grace.”

She blushed at the intensity of being watched again. “We could invite Bear and Kelly over to join us.” They were at a table across the way.

Bruce nodded. “We could. And Bear would give me his silent look that suggested I shouldn’t. He’s trying to talk her out of going windsurfing tomorrow.”

“Why? Kelly’s good at it.”

“He’s not.”

“Oh.”

Bruce smiled. “Exactly. Kelly’s good for him. He’s just enough of a legend in the SEALs that marriage was perfect. It added a touch of marshmallow.”

She caught a swallow going down the wrong direction and laughed. “Marshmallow?”

“Kelly’s definition.”

“What if I take pity on you and we go look at the sailboats?”

“They’re all moored up.”

“Walk, Bruce. Simple stuff. Nothing complex.”

“So I’m a little slow on the hints.”

She got up and picked up the glass. “I’ll help you learn. Go tell Wolf where we’re going or he’ll have to play curious cousin and come find me.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re a bit in awe of him?”

“Wolfy? He’s just . . . persistent.”

“If we’re going to check out sailboats, what if I find someone around here who has one we could take out for a few hours?”

“First weekend here and you’ll spoil future ones. Just a walk. Can we pick up Emily later?”

“I knew the real attraction for the weekend was my dog.”

They left the restaurant after stopping to say good-byes to new friends and old.

Bruce offered his hand and Grace accepted.

“My ears are still ringing.”

Grace laughed and squeezed his hand.

“Do you sail?”

“Some. I’m not very good at it.”

“No need to be in order to enjoy it. We could go fishing some weekend, scuba diving.”

“I’d enjoy those enormously.” She didn’t push a conversation, content to simply walk with him, and he didn’t rush to fill the silence either. It had been a long time since she let herself enjoy a night like tonight. Work seemed so far away—Norfolk, flying, the race to keep up with schedules and plans. “Could I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why did you buy a very old dog?”

He smiled. “There’s a story in that.”

“Is there?”

“I wanted a dog. I ended up at the pound. Emily was one of those dogs who didn’t show much emotion at seeing someone but had that patient gaze and an assumption that I’d come to her.”

“Did she?”

“You think I’m making it up?”

“No. Just find it fascinating that you chose an old lady dog instead of an in-his-prime collie or shepherd.”

“I wanted a dog that would like sitting on the back patio. Those are rare. Why haven’t you ever had a pet?”

“How do you know I haven’t?”

“Fish do not count as pets. And I know because I was curious enough to find out.”

She found it fascinating that he would admit to something that simple. “Pets take . . . space and time and remembering to feed them and vet visits and worrying about things like heartworm and fleas.”

“Yes. And?”

“Admit it, you were just ready to have a pet.”

He hugged her. “I’ll work on you. Cat or dog?”

She couldn’t figure out an answer to that. She’d never thought about it.

“Oh, we have a problem here. Fuzzy with attitude? Friendly and lazy? Yappy and excited to see you?” he asked, hopeful.

She laughed at his classifications. “Not a terrier. I know that much.”

“See? You just moved a step toward a pet.”

“Bruce, you’re going to change my life.”

He rubbed his thumb along her shoulder blade. “Probably.”

“Enjoy doing it too.”

“Absolutely.”