No Quarter Given

Dana squeezed fresh lemon into her tea and sat down with Maggie. Her friends were both still in flight suits. She was glad she’d changed into a pair of yellow shorts and a sleeveless white blouse earlier. “It’s a start.”

Molly was sitting at the mock-up. She looked toward them. “Is Turcotte married?”

Dana shrugged. “I don’t know….”

“Intriguing question,” Maggie said. “You know Manny’s a real gossip. I’ll ask him to do some snooping around for us.” She jabbed a finger at Dana. “I asked my IP today about Turcotte and he got real tight-lipped. All he’d say was that he was tough as hell. I think if we give you our experiences this week in the cockpit, we can help you prepare to start flying with Turcotte next week.”

“Not only that,” Molly added excitedly, “but you’re going to blow him away when you have cockpit start-up and shutdown procedure down pat. He won’t expect you to know that, Dana.”

“Probably thinks I’m out getting a tan, partying and playing around,” she agreed.

Maggie got up. “Well, it’s my turn to cook, ladies. How about Swanson Hungry Man frozen dinners?”

With a groan, Dana laughed. “At the academy, we had three squares a day over at the chow hall. Here, we’ve got to get into the routine of fixing our own meals. What a drag. Are we spoiled?”

The laughter lightened the kitchen, and Dana got up and out of Maggie’s way. They had set up a roster of duties. Each woman had her own particular chore to complete each day. The camaraderie was binding, just as it had been at Annapolis. They were a family, believing deeply in one another and relying on each other’s abilities.

Moving to her bedroom, Dana changed into her swimsuit, and pulled on jeans and a blouse over it.

“Going to swim in the gulf?” Molly asked, poking her head around the open door.

“Yes. It’s the only way to get rid of tension, as far as I’m concerned.”

Frowning, Molly leaned against the doorjamb, her arms crossed on her chest. “It’s really tough luck drawing the Turk. I’m sorry, Dana. Maggie and I have super instructors. Neither one is a screamer. Our first flights were nerve-racking but exciting. I got a 2.1 and Maggie got a 2.2.”

“Somehow, I don’t think it will be wonderful for me next Monday. Griff’s not interested in teaching me how to fly. He only wants to see me fail.” Grimly she pressed her lips together as she picked up her colorful towel. “I’m going down to the beach for at least an hour.”

“Okay. Be careful. I hear there are a lot of sharks and jellyfish in the water around here.”

With a laugh, Dana slipped past Molly. “I grew up on the Pacific Ocean, remember? I’ve had my brushes with sharks and been stung by enough jellyfish to become one. I’ll be okay. See you in an hour or so….”

* * *

Griff walked the lonely beach on Santa Rosa Island, hands deep in the pockets of his ragged cutoffs, his bare feet sinking deeply into the sand. The gulf was glassy smooth at this time of the evening, with the tide moving out. Hunter’s Point was his favorite getaway spot, a place where he could think without being distracted by a lot of tourists crowding the long sandbarlike island that stretched endlessly in a slight crescent, parallel to the Florida coast. The white sand met the blue-green water, the waves small and frothy. His shoulders fell and relaxed as he allowed the lap of the water and the cry of the sea gulls to take away his tension. It had been one hell of a day.

Scuffing his toes into the damp sand, Griff watched as the sun, low on the horizon, dipped behind towering cumulus clouds. His mother would have commented on what looked like the face of a dog in the clouds. Carol wouldn’t even have noticed it. What would Dana have said? Disgusted with his meandering train of thought, Griff spun around, allowing his chin to drop toward his chest, introspective.

Dana. What was he going to do about her? This morning, she’d displayed the kind of eagerness that he liked to see in a student, but didn’t often get. Her melting blue eyes haunted him. He knew she was in pain from the black eye. Having collected a few shiners in his seven-year naval career, Griff knew they ached like a son of a bitch for at least a week. It hurt to talk, to chew food and to smile. Dana wasn’t a complainer as Carol had been. If Carol cut her finger slicing a tomato, she acted as if he should take her to an emergency room.

Mulling over the comparison, Griff stopped and turned, facing the ocean. The horizon was turning a peach color, the sun behind the clouds lining it with blazing gold edges. He’d seen gold flecks in Dana’s eyes when he’d begun teaching her about the walk-around. Did gold mean she was happy? With a groan, Griff rubbed his face and tried to erase Dana from his mind and heart.

A movement caught his attention. Squinting, he saw a lone woman about half a mile up the deserted beach. His heart thudded. It was Dana. Wading into the ocean in a dark blue one-piece bathing suit, she didn’t seem aware of his presence. Hunkering down, Griff rocked back on his heels and watched her. He was sure she hadn’t seen him. She had left a bright, flowery print towel on the beach and was moving her arms in warm-up motions. That’s right, she’d been the captain of the Annapolis swim team, he remembered. Quirking his mouth, Griff hated the thought that his brain had retained everything in Dana’s file.

She was incredibly slender, Griff observed almost with alarm. So small and graceful as she leaned down, cupping the water and sluicing it across her body. Her thighs were curved and firm, the calves tightly muscled and slim. His gaze ranged higher, to her small waist and breasts. Women would probably die of envy for her waist, Griff thought. It couldn’t be more than eighteen inches. He sat down in the sand, enjoying the sight of her economical movements. Warming up before swimming was to be applauded.

When Dana dived into the water, Griff’s breath lodged in his throat. She reminded him of a sleek, shining dolphin. When Dana resurfaced, she was nearly a quarter of a mile out to sea. She had incredible lungs to swim that far without air. Griff kept forgetting she had captained the swim team. With each stroke, she moved farther and farther out across the rose-colored mirror of the gulf, tiny ripples forming around her with each clean, slicing stroke. Shading his eyes even though he wore aviator sunglasses, Griff could barely keep Dana in sight. Worry nagged at him. She was a good mile out from the coast.