Heart Of The Matter

She gave him a playful swat and scurried off before Ross could do anything more than rise from his chair. Since Adam didn’t take the empty seat, he remained standing, putting them eye to eye.

Tall, muscular, with an open, friendly smile—the man had been introduced to him, probably, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember if this was Amanda’s brother or cousin.

Adam grinned, almost as if he interpreted the thought. “Adam Bodine,” he prompted. “Amanda’s cousin. That’s my sister, Georgia, pouring out the coffee. My daddy’s the one standing next to Amanda’s daddy. It’s tough to sort us all out.”

“I’m usually pretty good with names, but—”

“But we’re all Bodines,” Adam said, finishing for him. “Amanda tells us you’re fixing to do some articles for the newspaper about the service.”

“The Coast Guard seems important to the community, so it’s a good subject for a series of articles.” That bit ran smoothly off his tongue. “What made so many of you decide on that for a career?”

“Ask each of us, you’d get a different reason.” Adam nodded toward one of the laughing group clustered around the twins. “My cousin Win, now, he’s a rescue swimmer. He always was a daredevil, so jumping out of a chopper feels normal to him. He’d say he’s in it for the excitement. Me, I couldn’t imagine a life that didn’t involve being on the water. My daddy was the same.” He paused, as if he looked deeper at the question. “Bottom line is serving our country, I guess.”

“Patriotism.” He tried not to let cynicism leak into his voice. Maybe he was jaundiced. He’d seen his father wave the flag too many times out of political expediency.

Adam’s gaze met his. “That’s somethin’ we take kind of serious around here. Charleston’s been a military town since the Revolution, and we have more military retirees here than most any place in the country our size.”

“All the more reason to highlight what you do and the effect it has on the community,” he said quickly, not wanting to get on the wrong side of the man. “Financially, for instance. I’m sure many companies in Charleston benefit from having the station here. It has to pump money into the local economy.”

And into someone’s pocket, if his informant was right.

“Sure, I guess so. My uncle Brett’s the one you should talk to about that, though.” He beckoned to Amanda’s father, who veered in their direction. “Me, I just know about cutters and patrol boats.”

Brett Bodine was probably in his early fifties, with a square, bluff face and a firm manner. He nodded, a little stiffly, and Ross wondered again what Amanda had been telling her family about her boss.

“Ross was just asking me about somethin’ I figured you could answer better, Uncle Brett.”

“What’s that?” The man was measuring him with his gaze, and it looked as if he wasn’t impressed with what he saw.

“He’s wanting to know about the base doing business with local merchants, that kind of thing.” Adam took a step back, as if leaving the field to his uncle.

Ross barely noticed. All his attention was on Brett Bodine. In the instant Adam had said those words, the man had reacted…a sudden tension in the erect figure, a flicker of wariness in the eyes, an involuntary twitch in the jaw.

Barely perceptible, unless you were looking. Unless your instincts were those of a trained interviewer, alert for the signs that you’d hit pay dirt.

Brett Bodine recovered quickly, Ross would say that for him. He’d managed a fairly pleasant smile in a matter of seconds.

“I’ll put you in touch with our information officer,” he said briskly. “She’ll be glad to answer your questions.”

She’d be glad to give Ross the canned speech, in other words. “In order to do a series of in-depth articles, I need to talk to the people who are actually involved in the work. Amanda thought you could help me with that.”

The man’s face tightened, as if he didn’t like the reminder that Ross was his daughter’s employer. “Our information office will—”

“Daddy.” Amanda stood next to them, and they’d been so intent on their battle of wills that neither of them had noticed her. “I told you how important this is. You’re not going to fob us off on someone else, are you?”

Us, she’d said. Apparently Amanda considered them a team. Well, if that’s what it took to get him what he wanted, so be it.

Bodine’s deeply tanned face reddened slightly in a flare of temper, but it eased when he looked at his daughter. He shrugged, seeming to give in to the inevitable.

“I guess not,” he said. “We’ll set it up for you to come in and talk in the next couple of days.”

The words sounded right, but again, Ross read the body language, and it said exactly the opposite. Something was going on—something that Brett Bodine obviously knew about.

And something that, just as clearly, Amanda didn’t.

For probably the first time in her life, Amanda was eager to leave the beach house. The party had been lovely, but she couldn’t control the stress she felt at having her boss there.

That was all it was. Surely she’d been imagining the tension she’d thought existed between Daddy and Ross. They didn’t even know each other. What did they have to be at odds about?

She popped her head in the kitchen door, looking for Miz Callie to say her goodbyes and thanks. Her grandmother probably shouldn’t still be putting on birthday parties for the family, but no one had enough nerve to tell her so.

The kitchen was empty, the dishwasher humming, but before she could turn away, Miz Callie came in from the deck.

“There’s the birthday girl. Come here, sugar, and let me give you a birthday kiss.”

“And one to grow on,” Amanda said, smiling, and kissed her grandmother’s soft cheek. For a moment she stood, Miz Callie’s comforting arms wrapped around her, and unexpected tears welled in her eyes.

She couldn’t think of her vibrant, energetic grandmother, the rock of the family, as growing old. It was too soon for that.

She blinked back the tears, knowing what had put that thought into her mind. For months Miz Callie had been obsessed with the idea of righting an old wrong. She kept saying that it must be done before she died; a constant reminder that their precious grandmother might not have too many years left hurt.

Miz Callie drew back and patted her cheek. “Amanda, honey, have you found out anything more about Ned?”

And there it was—the albatross that seemed to be hanging ’round all their necks these days. Ned Bodine, Granddad’s older brother. They’d none of them even known him, except Miz Callie. He’d left long ago, running off in 1942, never in touch with the family again. Every old-timer in the county believed he’d run out of cowardice, afraid to fight in the war.

Amanda’s cousin Georgia, the first one Miz Callie had trusted with her quest, had found out that what everyone believed wasn’t true. Instead, after a sad love story and a rift with his father, Ned had left the island to enlist under a false name.

And there the story ended, as far as they’d been able to discover. How could you trace an anonymous man who could have gone anywhere, used any name?

Miz Callie’s eyes grew suspiciously bright, and she patted Amanda’s cheek again, her hand gentle. “It’s all right, darlin’. You don’t need to say it. I guess it’s too much to hope for after all this time.”

Pain twisted her heart. “We won’t give up. There must be something else I can try.”

She glanced toward the deck where her cousin Georgia stood with her fiancé’s arm around her waist. Matt’s little girl, Lindsay, leaned against Georgia trustingly. Lucky Georgia. She’d not only found the first clues to what had happened to Ned—she’d found love in the process.

Miz Callie shook her head slowly. “Maybe it’s time to give up on learning anything more. The nature preserve is nearly ready to go. Maybe I’d best just make the announcement and be done with it.”

“But Miz Callie, the scandal…” She bit her lip. The family might be satisfied that Ned hadn’t been a coward, but they didn’t have the proof that would convince anyone else. Plenty of folks would be unhappy at Miz Callie’s plan to dedicate the nature preserve she planned for a small barrier island to a man they considered a disgrace to Charleston’s proud patriotic tradition. She had a vision of scores of military veterans marching down Meeting Street in protest. Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines, Coast Guard—they’d all had a presence here at one time or another.

“I reckon we can live down a scandal if we have to.” Miz Callie wiped away a tear with the back of her hand. “I just want to get this done.”

“I know. But a little more time won’t hurt, will it?”

Please. They’d present a brave face to the world if it came to that. The family was agreed. But Miz Callie would be so hurt if folks she’d known all her life turned against her.

A fierce love burned in Amanda. She couldn’t let that happen.

“I’ll work on it. I promise.” She was the reporter in the family, after all. Finding out things was her job. At least it was more important than covering pet shows. “You’ll wait, right?” She looked pleadingly at her grandmother.