Big Blue Sky
Part One



NAS Whidbey Island
2 Nov 2007
1403

She searched the sky looking for the fighters that were due to land in the next few minutes. A spark of excitement tingled in her breast. This must be akin to the sensation the families experienced waiting for their loved ones to return. For just a brief moment, she allowed herself to play with the feeling that their reunion was personal instead of official.

“There they are, ma’am,” the young petty officer pointed to the barely visible dots falling through a streak of wispy, scattered clouds. His chief had instructed him to escort the JAG officer over near the flight line and make sure she didn’t get hit by jet wash. Somehow, the PO thought, a full bird colonel with the kind of combat ribbons she displayed probably wasn’t all that helpless.

It was difficult to keep his eyes from drifting to the purple heart and Silver Star with valor. Of course, he’d seen these decorations before, but never on a woman, particularly one this beautiful. He wondered if she was the one he’d read about in the Navy Times. Maybe his CO would know

“Will he be first on the ground?” she asked, involuntary excitement mounting, as she watched the planes descend through the unusually blue sky. He wasn’t due on the ground for twelve and a half minutes, but at this rate he’d be down in three.

“No ma’am, not the ‘Old Man’. He never lands ‘til all his people are safely wheels down.”

“‘Old Man’?” her look questioned the wisdom of this misnomer. “You call him the ‘Old Man’? I’ll bet he loves that,” she commented with a bit of a smirk.

“That’s his call sign, ma’am,” the plane mechanic hastened to explain. He sensed a familiarity with the captain in the colonel’s response. “They gave it to him when he took on that group of newbies two years ago,” he smiled, proud of his favorite CAG. “Took them under his wing and made real fighter jocks out of them. Now, except for a couple of veteran groups on the east coast, they’re the best bunch of pilots in the Navy. They’d follow him to hell and back and win,” he beamed at Mac.

His enthusiasm was contagious, but then talking about Harm always had that effect on the people who worked with him. If she had to admit it, she had always felt it herself. Why had she never let him know how she felt? Mentally shrugging off the long gone emotions that had controlled her actions, she placed that poor decision on her list of irretrievable mistakes. It was water under the bridge now.

Waiting and watching patiently as each of the powerful jets lined up with the runway, turned on their bright landing light, and touched down in pairs, she counted the landings until she knew his was next. Checking her mental clock as he circled the field and lined up she realized he was on time to the second. Impressive. He did have these kids trained well.

The scream of idling engines, and the smell of burning jet fuel filled the air as the planes taxied to their parking spot. The pilots alighted, laughing and joking with each other as they walked in from the field to greet their families. She had been taken beyond the secure line where the wives, husbands, children, and others were waiting.

“That’s him ma’am,” the enthusiastic young maintainer pointed proudly. “The one with the stripe and the stars. He’s flying the Navy’s best fighter.”

Quietly, she sighed. “Yeah, but it’s no Tomcat.” The comment wasn’t intended for his ears, but the petty officer glanced quizzically at her. There was definitely some history here.

As his Hornet pulled into line and ground crew rushed to tie it down, a spark of recognition flared in the back of her mind. She had no idea where it came from and decided she must have seen a similar plane on one of her carrier visits. After shutting off the engines and a few minutes of conversation with someone her escort mentioned was his plane captain, Harm climbed from the cockpit. Turning towards the hangar bay where she waited, he strode across the tarmac looking for all the world as though he owned it. Even if he’d had a bag over his head, she would have recognized him by his wide-legged stride. He quickly covered the ground between them with those long, powerful legs.

For a brief moment, there was a rush in her ears and her head spun. She had the impression that like in a movie of this genre, he was moving towards her in slow motion. She wanted to stop time and fill her eyes with his image.

He’d slung his favorite leather flight jacket back over one shoulder. The well-worn fabric of his flight suit molded to his body in the quickening breeze. His aviator sunglasses were perched on the bridge of his nose, almost daring the world to challenge him. He was more toned and tight than she’d ever seen him. An unbidden smile raised the corners of her mouth in subtle appreciation, as his muscles rippled completely in control of every movement. God he was a beautiful sight. Thick, warm liquid moved inside of her just watching him.

He had covered two thirds of the distance between them when his step slowed almost to a stop. Shoving the jacket under his left arm, he reached up and carefully removed his glasses as though he didn’t believe what he was seeing. She looked down the line of resting planes directly into the piercing gaze of his stunning aqua eyes, more striking than ever shining from his well-tanned face.

Sticking the earpiece of his glasses down the front of his suit, he quickened his pace slightly. Their eyes remained locked for what seemed an eternity, until moving with the grace of a huge predatory cat, he came to stop directly in front of her.

It occurred to him that in a perfect world this would be the moment he would take her in his arms and kiss her until neither of them could breathe. But their world was far from perfect. He had never expected to see her again and now here she was. She had never looked more gorgeous, and the lack of perfection in their universe was something he quickly determined to change.

For whatever reason she had just walked back into his life, some power had brought her back to him, and he wasn’t prepared to let her leave again. For just the smallest segment of time, he toyed mentally with what would happen if he scooped her into his arms and carried her away from here. Instead, he cooled his reaction to her, carefully banking the flame of his untimely desires. After a two-year separation it was unlikely she was here for social reasons.

“Mac?” he asked looking down at her. “What are you doing here?”

It put her off for mere seconds before she quickly realized how surprised he must have been to see her. They hadn’t parted on the best of terms. They’d not seen each other or even corresponded for over two years. She didn’t believe he even knew she’d been given command of JLSO Northwest in Bremerton. No doubt, he had someone waiting for him outside. She’d heard more than one story about him and his active social life since she arrived. She needed to deliver her news quickly.

“I’m sorry, Harm. It’s just…I have some news for you. Official news. Your mother…” she began.

“My mother….?” his face went white under the tan.

“No. No, Harm. I’m sorry,” she rushed to fill the void of impending despair. “I didn’t mean to alarm you. Your mother is fine, but she called the office late last night. The Lincoln was in the middle of preparing to enter port and she couldn’t get through to you, so she called my office. She didn’t know what else to do.” Mac was babbling and she knew it, but she hadn’t prepared herself in the least for the impact that seeing him again would have on her.

“Mac, please,” he grasped her upper arm. “Tell me, please.”

“Sorry,” she apologized again, realizing just how upset he must be to do something so out of line in view of a subordinate. “It’s your aunt and uncle, Harm. They were killed in a plane crash yesterday. Well actually, it was almost three days ago. The SAR team just found them yesterday,” she explained quickly.

“My aunt and uncle?” he screwed up his face slightly. “Uncle Charlie and Aunt Joan? They live in Montana,” he added as though that would change the news.

“I know, Harm. Listen, we could go to my office at Bremerton, or wherever you want. I think what I have to tell you will be a shock, and we shouldn’t discuss this any further out here. Besides it feels like its going to rain again,” she looked up at the quickly moving sky. In the few moments since he’d walked from his plane, the ground crew had secured the remaining fighters in his Air Wing and disappeared from the field. With the last flight of planes, a sudden wind had brought darkening clouds. They’d landed not a moment too soon.

He nodded and turned to the petty officer dismissing him with a ‘thank you’. The young man turned smartly and jogged back to the nearby hangar, but not without considering the oddity of the meeting he’d just witnessed between the famous Captain Rabb and one of the best looking Marines he’d ever laid eyes on.

Harm turned back to her, looking down into her eyes. He knew what she had to say. He’d agreed to the terms over two years ago. He just didn’t know what he was going to do about it. He’d never truly expected the need to arise for him to deal with it.

More of a puzzle was why she’d come to bring him this information, instead of sending a junior officer or even a courier. It had surprised him to see her here. He had no idea where she’d gone after she left the Middle East. He’d managed to find out she’d been sent to Germany and eventually back to Bethesda, but discreet inquiries had led to no more information. Speculating would get him nowhere and hope wasn’t something he was allowing himself just yet. However, he perceived something personal in her being here, even if she only intended to soften the blow.

Shaking his head he replied, “Bremerton is too far, Mac. Lets go to the ‘O’ club, we can get some hot coffee and a sandwich while we talk. Im starving, and if I remember correctly this Marine likes to eat regularly, too.” he suggested with a teasing smile. He took her arm more casually now, and turned her to thread their way through the remains of the crowd towards the gate. “Do you have your car?”

She recognized the stalling tactic as pure Harm. He was expecting something, and was delaying the telling of it for a few minutes while he adjusted his mind to receive the information.

“Yes, it’s parked just outside,” she glanced quickly at his hand on her arm. She wasn’t offended, but once again it was irregular, and so unlike Harm.

He glanced down at his hand and then at her expression. “Sorry Mac, but this was somewhat of a surprise. I didn’t mean to be out of line,” he looked a bit awkward.

Reluctantly he released her, but he did so slowly, his fingers sliding softly down the inside of her arm. It was almost like a caress and she responded with a small shiver. He must need the comfort of personal contact to deal with his loss, she told herself. Her quick smile comforted him. “No, it’s okay, Harm. I understand. Were you close to them?” she inquired, trying to soften the terrible news any way she could.

He shrugged graphically, “As close as it’s possible to be when you spend twenty years in the Navy. I saw them about once every two years or so. We were closer when I was a kid. He was my mother’s younger brother. He was about fifteen when I was born but after he went away to college, he spent part of each summer with us. After my dad went missing Charlie joined the Navy and became a pilot, too. He flew Intruders. He reserved his commission after ten years then flew for United for twenty-five more. Charlie retired about two years ago. They had moved to Joan’s family ranch in Montana after her father died.”

“He and Aunt Joan were married a few years after he left the Navy. She was a flight attendant for United, about twelve years younger than him,” he reminisced. “She wanted to keep working so they delayed their family until she was ready to quit. A year or so after she stopped flying they had Shaun who’s fourteen, almost fifteen I guess. A few years later, they had Sam, who’s just twelve now,” he explained conversationally as they walked towards her car.

“Two boys?” she inquired idly knowing this moment of conversation was helping to center him.

“No, Sam’s a girl. Her name is Samantha, but don’t call her that if you want to be on her good side,” he smiled down at her. “And I’d bet my retirement she’s going to grow up to be a lot like you.”

“God, you shouldn’t wish that on anyone, Harm,” her reaction was instant.

“Are you kidding Mac?” he stopped in his tracks. “You’re the toughest, smartest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. Why wouldn’t I want my cousin to be like you?” Then he hesitated as though uncertain if he should continue. Perhaps he’d said too much. Deciding to go for it he glanced briefly off into the distance, focusing on a long ago point in time. “After all, I once told you I wanted my daughter to be just like you, if you recall.” His intense eyes focused back on hers.

“I recall,” she replied awkwardly. This was getting out of hand. Going down memory lane wouldn’t bring back what they’d lost. It would only bring pain. It was time to change the subject.

“Uh, look…I’m sorry. I feel bad breaking it to you like this,” she moved the conversation back on track. “But your mother insisted someone meet you. She didn’t want you to hear it second hand or on TV. There’s still an ongoing investigation. There’s some suspicion it wasn’t an accident.”

“Based on what, Mac?” He understood the distraction, she was throwing chaff. The news media was well-known for exaggerating anything it couldn’t get first hand information about. Maybe she didn’t want to ever go into their past again. Perhaps her being here was purely a product of their onetime friendship, or worse maybe she was just doing her job. Better to keep it simple, he reminded himself. But he knew he didn’t want to keep it simple. Not anymore, not again.

“I don’t know. There isn’t much information available yet. It’s been on all the local news programs. I don’t think they’ve found out about you yet, but when they do you might have a few reporters nipping at your heels.”

She clicked the button to release the door locks as they approached her car. He heaved his seabag and jacket in the back before folding his long legs into the deep blue leather seats.

“Like that’s never happened,” he recovered and flashed her one of his famous flyboy smiles as they fastened their seat belts.

As always, it turned her insides to jelly. She told him when they first met that it had no effect on her, but she’d lied…oh, how she’d lied. It had an effect all right, one that scared the hell out of her. And she’d fought the effect so hard she’d finally convinced him he meant nothing to her. Sadly, a few times she’d almost convinced herself as well.

But that was water under the bridge, too. Certainly, there would be someone waiting to comfort the handsome captain, now sitting in the passenger seat of her new midnight blue Jeep. She needed to get this business over with so he could get home and make his decisions.

Concentrating harder than she needed to, she put the car in gear and headed for the other side of the base.

She pulled into the parking lot of the Officers Club, and he directed her to a reserved space, then waved to the seaman at the door to indicate it was okay.

As he opened the door, he asked, “Okay if I leave my seabag here for now, Mac?”

“Sure,” she answered. “We can get it after we eat and talk. I’ll drop you off at your car,” she suggested brightly. “Or is someone picking you up?” She wasn’t fishing, she really wasn’t, it had formed in her mind as an innocent request for information, but it hadn’t come out that way.

Lifting an eyebrow in silent inquiry, his face changed for just an instant before he masked his feelings. “No, Mac, no one is meeting me.” he offered.

“Oh, I’m sorry, that is, I didn’t mean to pry. I just…your car…I’ll take you to your car,” she finished lamely.

“My car is in my garage, Mac,” he informed her levelly, calculating just what was making her so nervous.

“Right,” she answered drying her damp palms on her uniform trousers. “Of course you wouldn’t leave it parked here. Do you still have the ‘vette?” she tried desperately for a safe subject.

“Yes, I do,” his smile was faint, still off balance. Recognizing there were heavier issues to deal with than this conversation with Mac, he also knew he’d hesitated before and lost her. His mind seriously toyed with the possibility that he might have been given one more chance. She certainly wasn’t acting like someone who didn’t care. She was off balance too. He’d bet his bright red Corvette that she was as affected by this sudden reconnection as he was. If only she hadn’t found someone to be with. He had to find out if she was still free.

He allowed the silence to build and his eyes to rest on her for a moment too long, willing her to look at him. When she raised her eyes to him, he saw things he’d never seen before. They looked very much like things he’d always wanted to see, then she blinked rapidly and they were shadowed again. This wasn’t going to be easy.

“Let’s go in, Mac. I’ll buy you lunch,” he offered softly. Without waiting for a reply he grabbed his jacket from the back and moved from the warm interior into the rain that had started to fall.

“Harm, that’s not…” she started to protest, but he was already out and had closed the door.

She too climbed from the vehicle and looked back at him over the roof. “C’mon, Mac were gonna get wet. I don’t want to melt,” he coaxed. The moment had passed and a lighter mood replaced it as he teased her.

Smiling at the return of comfort, she wondered if there was any possibility of a chance this time. But knowing what she did about the papers in her folder she doubted it. Harm was going to be preoccupied with the fallout from this for quite a while.

“I’m coming,” she schooled her features back to business and reached inside for her folder. Closing the door, she hit the alarm button on her key fob and followed him to the entrance.

He hesitated in order to hold the front door of the club for her, then asked quietly when she passed by him. “Mac if you have time do you think you could give me a ride home after lunch? That is if you’re not busy.” It was a shot, but he was taking it. He didn’t want to let her get away this time, at least not without trying everything he could think of. The more time they spent together the more time he had to read her. He’d just warned himself to keep it simple, but nothing was ever simple with Mac. Even the simplest thing would be complex.

Stopping in mid-stride, she turned to face him, but all she saw in his face was an innocent request, and a very old friendship that had somehow been regained in the minutes they’d been together. It wasn’t everything she would like, but if he didn’t feel that way any more it was her own fault. She’d shot him down pretty hard the last time they were together. He couldn’t possibly know how many times she’d replayed and regretted that decision.

“Sure, Harm. I didn’t know how long this would take. My yeoman knows where to find me. I’ve taken the rest of the afternoon off. Is it far?”

“Over on the Peninsula,” he told her. “It’s a bit of a drive, but it’s pretty and there’s a terrific view from the living room window. The place belongs to Frank. It used to be an old hunting cabin before this area got so civilized. It isn’t fancy, but it is comfortable.”

Nodding, she stepped inside the door and he followed her.

“I didn’t know that Frank hunted,” she commented, mostly for something to say. She would try anything to keep a conversation going. She had no idea where this could lead, but she wasn’t going to fight whatever happened. Even if they passed like ships in the night again, at least this time she hoped they would touch on their way by.

“He doesn’t,” Harm continued as they walked towards the dining room. “His very first boss at Chrysler sold it to him for just enough to buy a couple thousand acres of backcountry in Idaho in the late sixties. Frank used to use it as an executive retreat. More recently, it’s been a family getaway. He gave it to me to use when I got stationed out here.”

Maybe he could get her to stay for coffee when they got home. Maybe even dinner. He was pretty sure the caretaker’s wife would have stocked the kitchen for him. She always did. Re-establishing this contact with her was going to make the news she had for him a double-edged sword.

They were seated by a tall window in the semi-empty room. A waiter brought them a large pot of coffee, then took their order for sandwiches and soup. While they waited for their lunch, she pulled her folder towards her.

With a deep sigh for the news she was about to impart she looked up at him.

“Well, Harm, it looks from the papers your mother faxed that you’ve inherited half a cattle ranch and two children,” she informed him.

“I know,” was his cryptic reply.

End of one

Big Blue Sky
Part Two


NAS Whidbey Officer’s Club
2 Nov 2007
1440

“I know.” The words hung in the air between them.

How many hundreds of times had she heard him say those two words over the years. Hundreds, maybe thousands? Just those two words that spilled from his lips on that special, rounded, three-note, sound wave. And how many times in all those years had she misinterpreted what he’d meant? Every one, until this very moment.

Always, always she had thought the words dismissive. That he was indicating he already had that information and disregarded it, or it no longer was a factor in his decision-making. Oh, how she would have responded differently if she had read his eyes on those occasions, instead of just hearing the words and misreading his inflection.

Now, she understood. What he was really saying was ‘I have that information and I haven’t a clue what I’m going to do with it.’ This was Harmon Rabb Jr., fighter jock extraordinaire and naval lawyer supreme at his most insecure. And she’d never recognized it.

Of course, his thoughts were scrambled. Whose wouldn’t be? He’d just received news that could very likely put a dead stop to his Naval career. How many life-altering situations had hit him suddenly during his adult life, and how often had he been forced to make a decision with no time to think?

For all the comparisons to his skill in flying a jet fighter, making split second decisions in life wasn’t the same at all. You drilled, and practiced, and repeated your skills over and over again in flying, until you could take any given situation and solve it in a fraction of a second. Someone else made the rules, someone else directed your actions and gave the orders. You flew the plane and did the job assigned. Not a simple task, nor one to trivialize, but it wasn’t the same.

Command of a fighter plane was and always would be a group effort. Certainly, keeping the plane in the air, engaging the enemy, and the final decision to push the button rested ultimately with the pilot. But it couldn’t be compared to the isolation of being expected to make a personal decision that would completely alter your life and someone else’s in a split second. There were no practice runs in life. No Top Gun school. No Rules of Engagement.

How unfair she’d been to him. It was a wonder he still spoke to her at all. She shook her head, ashamed she had ever doubted him.

“Im sorry, Mac, I’ll…I’ll have to look into this. I can’t…” he began to gather the papers, misinterpreting her impatience with herself for annoyance with him.

She stilled him with a brief touch to his hand. A gesture that could only last for a second in the midst of this room half full of officers, but it was enough to make him hesitate.

“Of course not, Harm. This must have been a terrible shock. How could you have expected it to happen? Please. Talk to me. Let me help if I can. If I can’t, then just let me listen while you sort out your thoughts and options.” Perhaps it was too bold, too presumptuous, but she didn’t want to let him get away again. If she lost him today, he’d be gone forever. Even if he only remained her friend, she wanted that back as much or more than anything.

He’d said there was no one meeting him, but he hadn’t elaborated. She could be busy, at work, perhaps out of town. None of which would have stopped Mac, if Harm were coming home to her after an extended absence. Nevertheless, it might be a new relationship, something just in the formative stages. Maybe just a flirtation.

‘Stop it,’ she chastised herself. He’s been gone for at least six months. Flirtations rarely ever last long distance for that amount of time. It was either pretty serious before he left, or there really was no one. That was the concept she found difficult to believe. Good grief, look at him. How could a man like him wander around loose all this time without some woman finding a way to get closer to him? Her eyes had locked with his while her mind whirled through these thoughts, willing him to be available. His eyes were equally penetrating, searching for the answers to questions of his own.

There were only two possibilities left, he was either playing an extremely broad field, or he was…no…she couldn’t allow herself that thought. ‘Oh, God, what if he was married?’ Quickly her focus shot to his left hand, hoping to find no ring on his finger.

Harm was the kind of man who would wear a ring. If he’d made that commitment, he would never hide it as some men did. His job certainly didn’t preclude wearing jewelry. He wore his academy ring. He would wear a wedding ring.

Slowly her eyes raised back to meet his and she saw by the small twinkle in their depths that he’d read her thoughts.

“No one, Mac,” he said softly with just the hint of amused lilt. “I said no one, and I meant no one. Not married, not engaged, not even involved.”

She swallowed hard and nodded her head. She’d been busted speculating, and she didn’t care. Now, she had her answer. It remained to be seen if he would ask about her. After all she couldn’t just blurt it…

“You?” He cocked an eyebrow at her, asking the question she wanted to answer. “Is there anyone in your life?”

“N-no, no one, Harm,” she laughed, blushed, and looked away then back. “I sort of swore off men. There didn’t seem to be any favorable percentage in the gamble anymore,” she admitted ruefully.

“Two years is a long time to be alone,” he remarked for no particular reason.

“I was a little busy the first five months and after that…”

“Did it take you long to recover?” he asked, with a significant look at her row of ribbons.

“Not as long as it might have if those fighter jocks hadn’t shown up,” she smiled bravely. The pain was a faintly remembered twinge that only occasionally bothered her when she was cold and tired.

“The Navy is always happy to be of service,” he bowed his head graciously, then quickly hooded his eyes. Had he said too much? Did she catch his slip? He needed to quickly move the conversation in a different direction.

More interested in getting the subject off herself, she let his remark go unchallenged. “So how about you? Two years ‘is’ a long time,” she remarked carelessly.

He gave her a long stare as though calculating the effect of his next words. Then decided honesty wouldn’t cause any future surprises. “I haven't been celibate if that’s what you mean.”

Slightly embarrassed, she nodded quickly, “Im sorry, Harm. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“I almost got married, Mac,” he admitted. ‘In for a penny, in for a pound,’ as Grams used to say.

“Married?” Her mouth went dry.

He nodded seriously. “After I transferred here, before we shipped out, I met someone. We hit it off. Somehow, at the time it seemed like a good idea.” He decided at this point not to remind her that he never expected to see her again.

“What happened?” Curiosity got the better of her. If he wanted to share this with her then she needed to listen. They’d spent way too much time not listening to each other.

“We deployed for six months. She said she’d wait. It turned into seven, then halfway home we were ordered into Japan for re-supply. We had one month in port. There were weekend liberties, but no leave. I couldn’t get back here. I asked her to fly out, she said no, not for just a weekend. The week before we returned to the Gulf she sent me a ‘Dear John’ letter,” he shrugged. “Said she couldn’t live that way.” His smile was one of dark amusement at the clichéd situation.

“What did you do?” she asked, almost more interested in the tale than in the personal element.

“What any sailor does when he gets a letter like that.” He gave her a direct stare, and a raised eyebrow, wondering if she really wanted to hear this. She nodded for him to continue, anticipating what he would probably say. All but the last of it.

“I rounded up a few buddies, and we hit the highest class ‘place’ in town.” He nodded affirmative at her unasked question about the kind of ‘place’. “We stayed shit-faced drunk for three days, and it took three days to get over the hangover after we were back at sea. We were a group of very sick puppies. I never knew it was possible for one human being to throw up so much, or hurt so much, and still live, but I learned something.” He let the thought hang.

“What?” She was disturbed, but not greatly so, at this admission of mortal weakness from a man whom she’d always thought the model of personal military decorum.

He leaned a little forward, looked her squarely in the eyes, and revealed in a low, rumbley, almost secret, voice. “I learned that a three-day drunk could wipe Sandy from my thoughts entirely, but no amount of time or alcohol could wipe you from them.”

She didn’t know what to say. His admission had knocked the air from her lungs and left her speechless. She knew when they parted in DC two years ago that regardless of their words, the expectation of never seeing the other again prevailed. But now here they were, and in spite of that intervening time they found their feelings for the other hadn’t changed and couldn’t be erased. She had no idea what to do next.

Handing his credit card to the waiter, he started to gather the papers together. This weekend would be devoted to some serious thinking. He’d need to schedule a visit to the ranch and that would mean requesting immediate leave. Not really a problem. In the last two years he’d taken a total of two weeks leave. One week on his way out here the first time, when he stopped to visit his aunt and uncle, and one week the last time his ship was in port, to visit his Mom.

“So does your offer still hold to drive me to my car?”

He asked with that cocky sideways smile she found so captivating. ‘Oh hell’ she mused ‘all his smiles are captivating.’

“Your car is in your garage, Harm,” she reminded him, but she couldn’t help the corners of her mouth twitching at the tease.

“I know,” he said again, and this time the lilt in his voice definitely held more certainty, perhaps even a suggestion, or a promise.

“So, you want me to drive you home?” she smiled again, enjoying the flirtation. The fact she’d already agreed to this had nothing to do with what was happening.

“Well, I guess I could walk.” He gave her an artificial pout.

She looked out the window at the darkening sky. The rain poured in sheets, trailing thick rivulets down the panes.

“No, I don’t think so, Harm. I can’t have my hero walking in this stuff. You’d catch pneumonia.” Her joke referred to his defiance of the SecNav to free her from prison, but she stopped at the look of discomfort that crossed his face. It was quickly gone, replaced by another distracting smile this time a serious one.

“You’re the hero, Mac.” He pointed again to her ribbons. “You’ll have to tell me about it sometime.”

“Sometime,” she agreed thoughtfully. It still wasn’t easy to talk about, but if anyone would understand, it would be Harm.

As soon as the waiter returned with his card and the check to sign, they gathered their things together. He held her jacket for her, then slipped into his own.

Stepping out into the late afternoon downpour, he turned to her on the porch and suggested, “Want to let me drive? It might be easier than trying to give you directions in with this rain, and it will be dark before we get there.”

Realizing this was probably a sensible suggestion, she cautioned, “All right, but be careful it’s only six months old.” She hit the button to unlock the car and handed him the keys.

They started towards the SUV, but he stopped her while they were still under shelter. “Wait here on the porch. I’ll go get your car,” he offered gallantly.

“I’ll be fine, Harm,” she smiled and resumed walking. “Maybe sometime when I’m all dressed up,” came out of nowhere before she realized what she’d said.

“You asking me for a date, Marine?” He glanced at her, matching her stride. The look of hope was bare on his face.

“Would you say yes if I did?” she answered his question with a question.

“Yes,” he stopped in the rain, completely oblivious now to the soaking they were receiving. “But only if you let me ask you first,” he smiled his full-blown flyboy smile.

“Always the alpha male,” she shook her head playfully.

“So will you have dinner with me, Mac?” he asked.

“Sure, I’d love to,” she gave him a straight look. “When?”

“How about tonight? At my place,” he offered somewhat nervously.

Her eyebrow went up, not in fear, but in speculation. Was this going to get as interesting as she’d like? Was she getting her hopes too high too quickly? After nine years of an indefinable relationship, and two years when neither thought they’d ever see the other again, who was to say if anything was too quick.

“Are there restaurants out there?” she sidestepped.

“Nope, but I’m sure Frank’s caretakers have stocked my fridge with basic stuff. I may have to shop tomorrow, but there should be enough for spaghetti or an omelet. Meager fare for a first date, but I’ll make it up to you later,” he grinned with only the barest hint of playful suggestion.

“Sounds good to me,” she accepted. She wasn’t entirely certain if he meant he’d make it up later this evening, or at a later time with a better dinner. Either way worked for her. It meant they might finally be headed towards the same somewhere at the same time.

A sudden gust of wind blew the rain against them shaking them from their soggy reverie.

“I guess we better get into the car,” Harm suggested, taking two more long steps. He opened the passenger door for Mac before he hurried around to climb in the driver’s side.

His eyes went immediately to the built-in GPS on the dashboard.

“Hey, look here. A GPS. Is this thing as good as the one in my Hornet?” This was delivered with a sly twinkle in his eye, faintly tinged with simple boyish enthusiasm. He started the car and punched in his address.

“Don’t know. I never found a reason to use it.” He’d come back to her in full fighter jock mode. Everything related to his plane. Shaking her head at his enthusiasm for a simple piece of electronics, she smiled at him indulgently. After spending months in one of the government’s premier fighter jets, a self-contained wonder of modern technology, the fact that he found her new car to be fascinating was the essence of Harmon Rabb.

She reached over and set the heater controls to warm their soaked bodies. No point in catching cold now. This weekend had too many possibilities in spite of the bad news Harm had just received.

She knew the next few days would bring some heavy introspection. He had more information to gather, and a lot of details to work out on the complexities of his future. She hoped he would allow her to help him, but she also recognized that could be asking too much. They’d been separated for two years. There was no way to know if they could find what they’d lost. Only time would tell.

End of two

Big Blue Sky
Part Three


Somewhere on the Western peninsula
2 Nov 2007
1735


He threaded his way through the dripping evergreens along a winding gravel driveway. He had told her it would be difficult to direct her to this place in the waning light of early evening. Her quick smile let him know she was comfortable with the decision. The few lights that winked along the roadway came from houses set too far back to provide landmarks or illumination. The pale early moonlight was completely obliterated by heavy, dark clouds pouring their contents over the landscape.

He was certain her innate sense of direction had correctly kept track of their location. With the assistance of her GPS she should have no trouble finding her way back. They would very shortly be coming to the end of this landmass where the cabin perched above the sound. He no sooner thought of it than he rounded a huge clump of trees and pulled up under the shelter. Frank had added the wide porch and carport years ago, and the wood had weathered so it was no longer possible to tell what part of the façade was really old and what part was not so old.

“Let’s get inside and get warmed up, Mac.” His suggestion was made comfortably, as though these circumstances were perfectly normal.

He wasn’t going to give her a lot of time to think about this. He was a little nervous about the outcome of their last meeting, but he’d spent countless hours on a steel island at sea replaying that final incident and everything else that had happened in their lives. The best he could come up with was on that night she considered his advances to be sympathy and she wasn’t prepared to accept pity for her situation. She’d been on a mission to rebuild herself in her own eyes, and she must have thought all he was offering her was a place to hide.

He grabbed his seabag from the rear hatch of her vehicle, then hesitating for half a second, he considered grabbing hers as well, but wisely, he decided that would be premature. She picked up the file of papers and followed him up the steps. He retrieved a set of keys from a small pocket on the side of his bag and unlocked the door, stepping aside to allow her to enter. It was dark inside, and he reached past her shoulder to flip on a light switch illuminating a short hallway.

“This is the old part of the cabin,” he explained, as he opened a door off the hall and tossed his bag on the floor. Through the opening, she could see a freshly made bed. “Bathroom is in there, too. Across the hall is a small room I use for an office and I keep my workout stuff in there. Back here is the newer part, the kitchen and living room,” he took her arm encouraging her to explore further.

He could see the look of recognition in her face as she glanced around the kitchen. A small smile tickled her lips as she noticed his pots and pans hanging from a cast iron rack over the cooking area. It was reminiscent of his apartment in DC.

“I sort of did a little work rearranging the kitchen after I got here. Made it more cook friendly,” he returned her smile.

“I thought it looked an awful lot like you, Harm,” she nodded approvingly.

“This is the best room though, Mac,” he took the papers from her hands and laid them on the counter, then took two steps down into a room that ran the width of the cabin. In the center was a fire pit with a stone chimney that climbed through the ceiling. A wide wall of windows overlooked the darkening expanse of water, with the lights from the city and naval base on the other side distorted and barely visible through the downpour.

She walked to the window where a comfortable looking seat beckoned her. “It’s breathtaking, Harm. You could just sit here for hours and look at that view.” She turned to him, then quickly back to the vista before her.

“I often do,” his voice rumbled softly, very close behind her. They stood silently for several long moments. She was mesmerized by the view, and he was equally captivated by the fact that she was actually here with him. Somehow, he had to find a way to make her want to stay, or at least to come back soon.

His good manners took hold before his desires could completely control his behavior, and he offered, “Can I get you something to drink?” Then he saw her shiver slightly.

“Good grief, Mac, you’re cold. Your clothes and shoes are soaked. Let me get you something warm and dry.”

“I’ll be alright, Harm,” she protested, but not very forcefully.

“Wait right there,” he held up his hand, and hurried into the bedroom. Returning in thirty seconds, he announced, “There are sweatpants, a shirt, and socks on the bed. Go change, and I’ll start a fire. Go on, I can’t have you catching cold.” He shooed her in the direction of the indicated room.

Too wrapped up in what he wanted from the renewal of their relationship, he didn’t notice that she wasn’t protesting nearly as much as he might expect. In fact, he had just missed the secret smile that crossed her face.

It was just like the times long ago, when their friendship had been good, and firm, and comfortable. It had come back so easily. It only had her questioning if it was too easy, or if it was finally meant to be. Whatever the reason she knew she didn’t want to leave his company soon. Whatever hint of invitation he gave her she would accept.

Moving back into the main room after changing, she found a fire snapping and flickering to a bright blaze in the round hearth. The aroma of fresh coffee gurgled from the kitchen.

“Are you hungry, Marine?” his voice smiled at her. He sounded so comfortable to have her here.

“Not yet, but that coffee sure smells like something I could use,” she answered.

“I’m going to go change into something dry. The coffee will be ready by then. Maybe we can sit and talk for a while,” he suggested.

“Id like that,” she turned to look out the window again.

A few minutes later, she heard him moving about the open kitchen. “You still want your coffee the same way as this afternoon?”

“A little milk this time of the evening, please. Otherwise I’ll be up all night.”

Now that was a concept he felt had possibilities, but he still had a long way to go in reestablishing their friendship. Much as he wanted her and wanted her now, he certainly didn’t expect anything to happen tonight. He had to curb these fighter jock tendencies if he wanted Mac to take him seriously. It had become a habit too easy to slip back into once he’d felt himself abandoned.

Walking up behind her, he handed her the cup of coffee then remained close. It just felt so damned good to be near her again. He watched the serene joy move quietly over her face, the blurred light of the distant city playing on her skin. Did she feel it too? The absolute perfection of the moment? It was as though their spirits had chosen this time to find peace together.

His lips quirked slightly at the corners in response to the poetry of the idea. It was one of those greeting card moments they had so often joked about. Nevertheless, it was here and it was real. He couldn’t let it pass unremarked.

Silently placing his cup on the windowsill, he reached out and touched her shoulder. “Thank you for being here with me. It helps…Mac, I…”

He meant to say more, wanted to tell her how he felt. He no longer worried what her response would be. He just had to tell her. But she had turned and was already in his arms, her coffee cup beside his on the windowsill. He felt her arms slip around his waist and her lips meet his. Not certain who moved first, he only knew he couldn’t move away.

He poured everything he’d ever learned into showing her how he felt about her. He would tell her as soon as he caught his breath, but for now he would show her. A new kiss began where the last one ended, each more passionate than the last, each expressing desires they’d so long and torturously held in check.

As one, their hands roamed, exploring each others backs, sides, arms before they began to slip inside of the others clothing. This wouldn’t stop unless one of them stopped it and the time had finally come when neither had the will nor the desire to stop it. He knew he had to tell her how he felt, make her understand what he wanted from her, but not now, not this minute. For now, he just had to love her.

Slowly, as the kisses progressed, as each piece of clothing was invaded, coaxed from their bodies, and finally dropped they traveled the width of the room. He leaned her against the tall smooth wooden column that held up the roof and kneeled to slide her sweatpants over her ankles taking the thick socks with them. Then standing he scooped her into his arms and carried her up the short stairs.

Leaning back against the wall he let her feet slide to the ground then pulled her into another passionate, needful embrace, before she stooped to slide his jeans down his long muscular legs and toss them aside. With his hands under her arms he dragged her back up his body, nearly losing control as her soft skin slid across his aroused flesh. Step-by-step they made their way to the small bedroom. Pulling away only long enough to throw back the blankets, he wrapped her in another kiss and pulled her down with him. In one motion, he rolled her beneath him and burrowed under the bed covers, continuing to kiss her.

There was more he wanted to do, certainly much more, but he had no intention of rushing it. He finally had her, she was giving herself to him, and he would savor every last moment of their first time.

His kisses were returned with a fervor he had only ever hoped to find in her. Moved by the single desire to give the gift of their long buried love to the other, to express their suppressed emotions, neither fully recognized that the other was offering the same in return. Little mattered in that moment except that they were together. Finally, they had the opportunity to give, and accept the physical rewards for their years of unfulfilled love.

His hands moved over her body, slowly and smoothly stroking her fires. There was no seamless perfection. Their movements lacked the choreography of familiarity. But their desire for the other bore no interference. If he couldn’t kiss her in one place, he kissed her in another. If she couldn’t touch him here, she touched him there. He followed his caresses with his lips as he touched and loved all of her, until neither could bear to wait longer for release.


When they ultimately passed over that last precipice of their passion, with every nerve ending sated by the taste and touch of the other, he gathered her into his arms and held her close. She snuggled against his long body draping her leg over his with her slender arm cast across his middle. Placing his lips gently on her cheek, then her forehead, he felt the after tremors of satisfaction play through her body. He listened to her breath as it quieted, her murmurs of contentment as she relaxed, before falling into an even rhythm of sleep. Only then did he allow himself the luxury of surrendering to sleep as well.

**~**


Several hours later, he slowly drifted awake. He was disoriented, his world felt wrong, but he couldn’t seem to put his mind on what it was. As his thoughts came more into focus he realized something was missing, a few more seconds gave him the answer. Mac. She wasn’t here beside him.

Springing from the bed, he grabbed a robe from the back of the door, but a glance through the window relieved him somewhat. Her car was still parked under the overhang.

Scrubbing his hands through his hair, he listened for sounds and found none coming from the darkened bathroom, so he made his way into the hallway towards the main room.

There, outlined against the sparkling lights of the city across the sound, she stood wrapped in a throw from the couch.

“Mac?” he asked. “What are you doing out here. It’s cold.” He walked up behind her and slipped his arms around her. Gratified she didn’t pull away, he also noticed she didn’t exactly relax against him.

“Mac, talk to me. Are you okay? What happened...?”

“Harm we started something tonight, at least I think we did. Maybe it was just comfort you needed, but...”

“Mac, that wasn’t about comfort, not for me anyway.” He squeezed her gently to punctuate his plea. “Tell me that’s not all it was for you. Please!” He bent his head and kissed a bare spot between her neck and shoulder where the blanket had slipped away

She closed her eyes in relief. Leaning against him, she savored the pressure of his lips. “No, it wasn’t. I was hoping to regain something I’d thrown away two years ago.”

He loosened his hold on her, but didn’t release her. Instead, he turned her in his arms to look into her eyes. His big hands spread across her back and gently pulled her closer. “I think I understand, Mac. You thought then that it was just sympathy, that I was offering you a place to hide. It wasn’t like that you know.”

She looked at him for a minute, stunned by how far apart they were at that time, and how quickly they had come back together this time.

“No, Harm, that’s not what I thought,” she shook her head slowly. “I had a pretty good idea what you wanted. You had been trying to tell me for nearly a year. It was something I was ready to accept, when…when all that happened,” she looked away.

He took her chin between his fingers and turned her face back. “You’re right. I did want you then,” he told her. “If you knew that, then why…?”

“Harm, your next step is a promotion to admiral.”

He scoffed slightly, but wrapped his arms around her again, reaffirming his need.

“No, really, if you want it you could have it. We both know that. There aren’t many people who know about what happened to me. But don’t you think they’d dig a bit deeper into my background…if I was your wife…if you were selected for that kind of promotion? A selection for Flag doesn’t happen in a vacuum, Harm,”

“And you thought I’d rather be an admiral than your husband?” his voice showed his surprise at her conclusion.

“No. I knew I couldn’t be the wife who kept you from becoming an admiral if you wanted to.” She tried to pull away.

“Well, I don’t want to.” He pulled her in tighter against him

“What!?” she tucked her head back looking up at him. In her bare feet, he was tall enough to make this position awkward.

“I don’t want to be an admiral, Mac. All I ever wanted was a good career, and a home and family, preferably with you. Why we could never make that happen was the subject of choice on a lot of nights I spent discussing it with the stern wave,” he smiled ironically.

“Did you ever figure it out?” she asked.

“No, not until about three hours ago,” he replied.

“What was the answer?”

“To the past? Who the hell knows? I was thinking about the future,” he told her.

“The future? What future?”

He could feel her trembling in his arms now. He prayed it was in anticipation of what he was thinking, and not fear that he would suggest it. Maybe it was just the midnight chill in the air. He ought to get her either dressed or back in bed. He certainly preferred back in bed, but they’d skipped dinner. It might be a good time to fix her something to eat.

“What future, Harm?” she asked again, moving slightly in the circle of his arms.

“Our future, Mac. I don’t want to be an admiral, and I’ve given the Navy my two years as an 06. I’ll still fly, maybe go to some advisory position, maybe even be stationed at a flight school. They seem to think I’m good enough,” he smiled with uncharacteristic hubris, “but this was my last time at sea. Unless things escalate dramatically, I’m destined to mostly fly a desk from now on.”

“I’m sick that this happened to Joan and Charlie. But maybe it’s time to give up the Navy and move to a different place in my life. Finding you here just brings it all together.”

“I’m going to Montana, Mac. I’m going to learn how to raise cattle, and I’m going to dust off my teenager skills. Will you come with me?” He asked with his heart full of butterflies, praying he hadn’t misread everything, praying hard that this would be the right time for them. He’d wanted her so much for so long. He wanted to share his life with her, and wanted to share hers. After last night, after finally being close to her, being one with her, he couldn’t imagine ever being apart from her again.

When she didn’t answer, he worried. When he saw moisture gather in her eyes his heart began to sink. “Mac, I…please...” he started.

“Shhh, Harm, don’t talk,” she whispered as she stared into his eyes reading his heart.

It was taking too long. He couldn’t stand it. Taking a deep breath, her name formed on his lips again, just as she breathed a simple, “Yes.”

“What?” He didn’t believe his ears

“I said, yes. I’ll come with you.”

He was stunned. The answer he’d hoped for left him stunned.

“Harm, say something,” she prodded gently.

“I…I can’t,” his lips closed over hers. He pulled her up against him, holding and supporting her. It was all he could think of to do, just kiss her, and kiss her more. To taste all the ways Sarah MacKenzie’s mouth, and lips, and tongue, tasted under his. He abandoned her mouth for a moment working his way along her face, nibbling her ear, running his tongue down her neck slowly, and then returning to her lips. His hands loosened their grip and began wandering over her back, finding no satisfactory resting place. She felt too delicious. He couldn’t pick just one. She’d just agreed to be his for all time. Making love to her now would be an entirely different experience. Earlier it had been tentative, passionate, almost desperate, this time there was something new added. The desperation was gone, and in its place a permanence and confidence in their future that would give a whole new meaning to their pleasure.

He scooped her into his arms and started back for the bedroom, stopping several times to kiss her again before they reached the bed.

Just as he kneeled to lay her down, in the middle of a strong passionate kiss, her stomach growled. Trying hard to hold the kiss, the laugher that bubbled up from deep inside weakened his grip. He didn’t want to stop the kiss. He didn’t want to drop her, but laughter sapped his strength. They tumbled in a heap on the bed, both of them rolling against each other in uncontrolled merriment. It was good. It was a release of all the strong, heavy emotions that had closed about them for hours, and it made the last elements of their world perfect. When he finally regained himself, he looked over at her.

“Your timing sucks you know that, Marine?” He started laughing again. She couldn’t control her amusement either.

“Yeah?” she giggled, tears of amusement running from her eyes. “Well, you’re not the one that had a six foot four inch, two hundred pound man land on top of you,” she laughed some more.

“You’re okay, aren’t you?” he was instantly concerned.

“I’m fine,” she giggled again. “But I think you’d better feed me now.” She rolled over draping herself against him, her lips closing on his.

His arms automatically went around her, but instead of covering her, he pulled them upwards standing her on her feet. “Put on something warm, I’ll have a nice hot omelet and toast ready in ten minutes.” He kissed her on the nose, shoved his feet into his sox, and winked at her.

“Harm,” she called as he reached the door. “Do omelets come with dessert?”

He looked her partially covered body up and down very slowly. She shivered at the depth of suggestion in his eyes. “They do now,” he growled, and slipped through the door.

End of three

Big Blue Sky
Part Four



Somewhere on the peninsula
03 Nov 2007
0718

It far surpassed any previous experience, this discovery of waking up next to Sarah Mackenzie. His past had held many thrilling moments. However, this was the one he’d waited his entire lifetime for.

Lying awake for nearly twenty minutes now, he’d indulged in the simple joy of watching her sleep on his shoulder. Only discovering a minute or so ago that he was unconsciously stroking her skin with the side of his thumb, he’d stilled the movement not wanting to awaken her. He’d been demanding last night, he knew that, and he would spend the rest of his life making it up to her, but once he’d found her again he hadn’t been willing to accept any outcome that included losing her.

“Why’d you stop?” she murmured sleepily.

“Hmmm?” his reverie was broken when her words tickled the side of his neck.

“Why’d you stop? It felt good.”

“Didn’t want to wake you,” he admitted lazily.

“Mmmm,” she accepted. “Too late,” but her sleepy voice held a smile.

“Sorry,” he spoke without conviction.

“I’m not, besides I wasn’t really sleeping. I just didn’t want to move,” she rolled slightly so she could look up at him.

“It feels good doesn’t it?” he agreed. “Was it too fast, Mac? Did I push too hard?”

She raised her sleep-tousled head and looked at him. “You backing up?” she questioned.

“No, but I’ll give you room,” he looked into her eyes and offered without very much sincerity.

“I’ve had room. I’ve had years worth of room, Harm, unless….” She laid her arm on her chest and rested her cheek so she could watch his face.

“Don’t, Mac. I didn’t mean it that way,” he nestled her a little closer. “The minute I saw you on that airfield…I didn’t need to know why you were there. I had no idea what the real reason would be…but I knew I needed to have you back, and this time for good. I wouldn’t have accepted ‘no’ easily, unless you were with…” he couldn’t complete the gut-wrenching thought.

She raised her head, staring at him hard for several long minutes. It seemed an eternity to Harm. He’d not wanted to offend her. He certainly didn’t want her to think she was just a conquest. He’d always avoided having her think that, most likely to the detriment of their relationship, but he had to tell her all of it.

“When I walked across that flight line and saw you there, I felt like…well there are a lot of time worn phrases, but none describe how I truly felt. I needed to have you this time Mac, not just have you, but I wanted you. Is this making any sense?” He hesitated at her serious stare.

A slow smile began at the corners of her mouth, widening her lips before it spread to her eyes. There was something in that smile, but what?

“Mac, say something.”

“Harm when you walked towards me, it was all I could do not to throw myself into your arms. Standing there and making official small talk was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I decided right that minute when you took off your glasses and looked at me that way that if you gave me the slightest opening, the faintest invitation, I’d be on it so fast both our heads would spin. I didn’t want to lose you again, either,” she admitted.

“Do you know how difficult it was to figure out a way to ask if you were alone?”

“Yes. I was trying to ask the same thing,” she admitted.

“You did it better.”

“Sure I did. You caught me looking for a ring on your hand. Not real subtle,” she laughed at the silly antic.

“It worked. It made me think maybe we weren’t so far apart.”

“Funny isn’t it? It took two years of being apart to bring us closer than ever in just a few minutes.”

“We’ve always done things the hard way. Let’s not do that any more, Mac,” he suggested.

“Oh, I don't know, Harm,” she stretched languidly beside him. “Doing things he hard way isn’t all bad.”

“You think not?” He moved over her, slipping his arms under her shoulders and catching her wrists over her head. Then ever so slowly he lowered his lips to cover hers. Her entire body responded, arching and moving under him. There was no doubt he’d met his match with this woman. He’d learned that long ago in the courtroom and under fire. Now she matched him again in a most personal way. The thought darted through his mind whether they would have trouble getting to work on time when they started living together permanently.

He pulled back slightly as the fullness of that notion hit him. “Don’t go, Mac,” he breathed. The formless invitation held a faint plea. He still couldn’t believe this wasn’t all a dream. That he wouldn’t wake up to find it wasn’t real and she’d never been here with him at all.

“Go where, Harm?” she looked puzzled.

“Anywhere. Stay here, with me. I don’t want you to go.” He no longer worried she’d go to someone else. He just didn’t want to waste another minute alone.

“What are you talking about? I’m not going anywhere.”

“No, I mean from now on. Stay with me here at the cabin. Don’t go back to your apartment. I don’t want…I won’t be able to sleep alone. Not now, not after last night,” He shook his head to clear his thoughts. “I’m sorry, it’s your decision too, it’s just that…”

“Harm I don’t want to go. I guess I’d rather stay, if you’re sure.” She glanced at him uncertainly, then asked somewhat pensively. “It is soon…so sudden…are you sure?”

“Yes. I’ve never wanted anything more,” he looked straight down at her. “Are you?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Good,” he breathed his relief. Then taking another deep breath he continued in a dizzying buzz of words, “We’ll go get some of your stuff later, then we’ll move the rest of it when we get back from Montana. You’re coming with me to the ranch aren’t you? Will you be able to leave the office?”

“Okay, okay, yes, and I think so, Harm,” she smiled up at him, laughing lightly as she fired back answers to his nervous barrage. “Now, power down, flyboy,” she murmured seductively. “Where were we before we got distracted?”

“I remember,” his voice rumbled in his chest. He began another kiss, a sweet gentle kiss at first, whispering against her lips, “But I think what you have in mind will require more power, not less.” Then he continued the kiss, allowing their slow burning passion to increase of its own will. They didn’t stop for further conversation. Breakfast was late on Saturday morning. On the other hand, they’d had breakfast at one in the morning, so maybe lunch was just a little early.

Much later, after they ate, showered, and dressed, they made tea and sat on the wide couch in front of the window. They needed to go over the papers Mac had brought and the ones Harm retrieved from the lockbox in his small office.

Harm was familiar with the basic terms. They would have the guardianship of his twelve-year-old cousin Samantha, his almost fifteen-year-old cousin Shaun, and half share in a 100,000 acre cattle ranch, a family held corporation. The other half was secured in a trust for Shaun and Samantha, administered by their maternal grandmother who lived on the ranch.

Apparently, though an active participant in the day-to-day running of the operation, at seventy-two Elizabeth Brookes simply couldn’t take on the full responsibility for the family corporation and the upbringing of two teenagers. Hence the terms of the will. When each of the children turned twenty-one they would receive twenty-five percent of the shares, but Harm would retain the majority share. He knew at some point in the future he’d divide his shares equally with Shaun and Samantha, but for now, this was how Charlie and Joan wanted it secured.

There was something very disturbing about the suspicion that Charlie and Joan’s plane crash wasn’t an accident. Harm needed more information, as much information as possible before he headed out there, but first he had to get his ducks in a row. Monday would be crucial. They would both request emergency leave, and as a courtesy inform their respective CO’s of their personal arrangement. Then, Harm had to call Charlie’s attorney to arrange for settling the will. The legal technicalities would take a while even with the exacting attention to every detail they had given to the agreement. By Tuesday morning, he and Mac would be on their way to Montana.

The remainder of the weekend went according to a loose plan. It was surprising how easily they managed to dovetail their lives after such an abrupt and unexpected reunion.

On Saturday afternoon they made the trip to the BOQ at Bremerton for Mac’s clothing and personal items. Harm was dismayed that she hadn’t taken a place of her own, her rank and position entitled her to a comfortable house on base, but she brushed it aside telling him it just didn’t seem as important as it once was. He knew this wasn’t the entire truth, but the fact that she’d agreed to stay with him gave him no reason to argue a point that had become moot.

One thing that did interest him was a large polished ebony wood case waiting to be loaded into the back of her Jeep. The initials GH where inlaid near the handle in white oak.

“What’s this, Mac?” he hefted the rifle case.

“Sniper rifle,” she answered abruptly, and continued loading her boxes and bags.

“You qualified as a sniper?” he was stunned.

“Indirectly,” she answered. “It was given to me by a young man who can’t use it any more.”

“This have something to do with what happened over there?” he tried again.

“Yes,” she looked squarely at him. Her eyes held his, her soul asked not to be questioned. Not now. Not yet. She wasn’t ready.

“I see,” he nodded. Then added more softly, “When you’re ready, Mac. I’ll be here.”

“Thanks.” She turned to climb behind the wheel of the car. She needed the distraction and the concentration of driving. She hoped it would prevent more questions. But Harm understood. The time wasn’t right. She’d tell him when she wanted to tell him, when she needed to tell him, and not before. He was a warrior, too. He knew how she felt.

On the trip back to the cabin, they shopped for just enough fresh groceries to make their meals until they left on Tuesday. They planned that if for some reason Mac couldn’t come with him, she would still stay at Harm’s place. Her evening commute would be time consuming, but she, too, wanted the closeness of being there. She could use the time to move the remainder of her belongings from the small storage unit she was renting, until everything was moved to the cabin. After what had happened in DC two years ago, she’d never replaced the furniture Bud had sold for her. In addition to her clothing, she only had a dozen or so boxes of books, some personal mementos, and her treasured fossils.

On Sunday afternoon they went to the gym at Whidbey for a workout. They laughed over the perceived necessity for more exercise. After all, they’d indulged in more physical activity the last two days than either had seen in a while. But they decided a structured routine was still required. They were pleasantly surprised to find that after a good shower and dinner, the trip to the gym hadn’t dulled their desires, but had instead enhanced them.

Harm’s premonition proved valid on Monday morning when it was only the discipline of her inner Marine that managed to keep them on time.

Mac’s resolve proved valuable in the face of the pseudo-honeymoon atmosphere that surrounded them. Their reunion and rapidly developing relationship had overwhelmed Harm, at least to the point that his only other thoughts were for the trip and his new responsibilities. It wasn’t until they were almost late that he realized he hadn’t prepared either of his cars. They would have to drive together and once they got down the hill they were going in opposite directions.

There was nothing he could do but call the Wing Commander’s office, explain he needed an appointment, and that he would be late arriving at the base due to car trouble. He’d explain what the trouble was to his CO in person.

He only had time to drop Mac at her office in Bremerton then turn around and head for NAS Whidbey. There was a message waiting for him to report ASAP upon arrival. This didn’t bode well for his relationship with the wing commander.

They were exact opposites, and it had proven to be no attraction. WC Jameson was as straight and by-the-book as they came. He’d married his high school sweetheart immediately after flight school, and they’d produced a new Jameson every second or third time he was home on shore duty for the next fifteen years. In his personal life he was the pilot’s equivalent of Bud the family man, but where Bud was a gentle accepting soul, amused by and secretly admiring of Harm, Jameson was impatient, judgmental, and disapproving.

Standing at attention in front of the desk, Harm was uncomfortably aware his boss would cut him no quarter.

“Car trouble, Rabb?”

“Uh, yes, sir. I had to drop off a friend and use her car. It took extra time.”

“Were you too busy this weekend to prepare your own car?” His boss asked caustically.

“Something like that, sir,” Harm admitted, though he knew it would probably get him a reprimand.

“Do you think you could find the time from your personal activities to report punctually from now on?” his boss looked for an answer, disdain dripping from his voice and features.

“Sir, that’s what I needed to see you about,” Harm answered.

The only response was a raised eyebrow.

“I’ve had some rather bad family news this weekend. I need to request an emergency leave. I need at least two weeks, sir.”

“Go on,” Jameson waited to be convinced this wasn’t some fabrication to give Rabb time for his extracurricular activities. From the stories he’d heard, a movie of this pilot/playboy’s life would have to be sold in a plain brown wrapper.

“My aunt and uncle were killed in a plane crash last week.”

“Sorry to hear that, Rabb,” the words were sincere in spite of his feelings about his CAG. “Uh…have a seat,” he relented stiffly.

“Thank you, sir. I have to go to Montana to deal with the situation and find a way to care for my wards.”

“Wards?” he sat upright. This didn’t sound like anything Jameson would have anticipated.

“My two young cousins, sir. Their grandmother may not be able to see to their care. And then there’s the ranch.”

“Cousins? Ranch?” his CO repeated dully. This did not sound like the Harmon Rabb he knew about.

“Yes, sir. Two years ago my aunt and uncle named me their guardian. Also there’s some other family business I have to see to. I’m really not certain how this will all play out, but I have to go check things out.”

“Someone left you in charge of two children?” WC Jameson was now somewhat aghast.

“Actually they’re teenagers, sir.” Harm had quickly figured out what the WC’s problem was and decided to play it very straight.

“Even better,” his boss commented acerbically. “Will you be bringing them back here?” That would cut into the Captain’s voluntary activities while ashore.

“I’m not sure, but I doubt it. They’ve been on that ranch since they were very young. I wouldn’t want to uproot them. I’ll try to find someone who can help with them. Barring that…” Harm let the thought hang with a shrug.

“Are you considering retiring, Rabb?” The Wing Commander eyed Harm with concern, as he relaxed back into his chair. Despite his Don Juan tendencies, Rabb was a fine leader, a brilliant pilot, and an excellent instructor.

“It’s one possibility, sir. The timing may depend on Colonel Mackenzie though.”

“Mackenzie? The JLSO in Bremerton? What does she have to do with this?”

“Well that’s the other thing, sir. Mac and I are seeing each other…actually more than seeing each other.”

“You’re what?” his boss came up out of his chair this time. “Look Rabb, its one thing to toy with single women who hang out in bars waiting to be picked up. It’s quite another to mess with a valuable officer.”

“You’re absolutely correct, sir,” Harm responded in his most respectful tone. “That’s why I’m not messing with her. I intend to marry her,” he looked his boss square in the eye. His voice was pure military protocol, but his eyes told the wing commander that jumping to conclusions based on gossip might not be the best way to run a command.

WC Jameson sunk back into his chair. He might have occasionally allowed his judgment to be swayed about his officers based on random gossip, but he had to admit this time he’d been had. Nothing in the stories he’d heard had warned him this man was capable of giving up his career for his family, or that he was so deeply involved with the Marine JAG they were planning to be married. The last he’d heard of marriage was the nasty breakup between Rabb and a friend of his wife.

“How long has this been going on?” Protocol was out the window now. They both had the measure of the other. Their conversation was by mutual consent off the record.

“Technically, eleven years. We used to work together at JAG HQ, but never could quite get started on anything personal. We haven’t seen each other for two years. This time…well, this time it’s right, sir,” Harm beamed. If nothing else, the look of pure joy on Harm’s face told his CO where the pilot’s heart was.

“I see, and I suppose this two year separation would account for…” even off the record admitting he listened to gossip was more than Jameson could own.

“The stories you’ve heard?” Harm picked up. “Yes, sir, I suppose it would. Although, I believe the reports of my prowess are greatly exaggerated.” Harm answered with a brief sardonic smile that finally relaxed his boss.

Chuckling, the Wing Commander quickly revised his assessment of the tall CAG. “They often are,” he allowed. “Well, Rabb, I have to admit this morning has been a complete surprise to me. I’ve learned a valuable lesson too.”

“Sir, I…”

“Don’t worry, Rabb, I think I had it coming. I need to move my office at home away from the room where my wife holds her teas,” he shook his head. “Those women are dangerous. So when do you need to start leave?”

“Immediately, sir,” Harm replied, relieved this had sorted itself out. If he came back to the base until Mac and he could begin terminal leave, he didn’t want there to be issues with his boss.

“Request granted, Captain, keep me informed. My condolences to you and your family, and good luck. Teenagers are difficult enough when you’ve raised them. Stepping in at this point is going to be a handful.”

“I’m well aware, sir. This isn’t the first time Mac or I have cared for abandoned or orphaned children.” Harm risked another glance at his boss. He couldn’t miss the opportunity to see the look on his face at that revelation.

“Seriously?”

“Yes, sir. We’ve done this before. I think we’ll figure it out. At least these kids aren’t strangers.”

“All right, Rabb. See you when you get back. If anything changes in the meantime let me know,” he dismissed the biggest surprise he’d ever had in his life.


End of four

AN: Okay this is going to be a little confusing because I forgot to date the second part of the last chapter and kind of raced over Sunday altogether. Just to get everyone on the same page Harm’s conversation with his CO took place on Monday morning, as does Mac’s.

Thanks to all for your support I'm so glad you like the story.

Big Blue Sky
Part Five

JLSO Northwest
Bremerton, Washington
5 Nov, 2007
Monday Morning

When Mac reached her desk, the first thing she did was place a call to General Cresswell.

“Good morning, sir.”

“Morning, Colonel, what can I do for you?”

“Well, sir, I need to request two weeks leave…emergency leave,” Mac explained.

“Emergency leave, Colonel? What’s the emergency?”

It’s actually Captain Rabb, sir.”

“Rabb? What happened?” The General had hoped they might bump into each other when he secured this well deserved billet for her. He certainly didn’t want to hear anything had happened to make that a bad idea. “Is there something wrong with the Captain, Colonel?”

“No, nothing, sir. I mean the Captain is fine. It’s a family emergency for him. He just lost his aunt and uncle in a plane crash.”

“I see…I think,” he rummaged for her reasoning. “And how does his family emergency become your problem, Colonel?”

“It’s…ah…well…the Captain and I are seeing each other, sir. And he wants me to help him sort out some of the issues involved.”

“What kind of issues? And how long has this been going on?” he was fairly certain the Abraham Lincoln had just made port.

“Um…three days, sir, and it involves two teenagers and a cattle ranch.” It seemed the more she spoke the worse this sounded.

“Three days?”

“Yes, sir,”

“Two teenagers?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And a cattle ranch?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m just certain, Colonel there’s some way this all makes sense.”

“Yes, sir. If I may explain…”

“No, please don’t, Colonel. I’m just not sure I want to know. Permission granted. Call me when you return.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Mac?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Was I right?” He smiled into the phone.

“Yes, sir, you were. Thank you again, sir.”

“Give the Captain my condolences and good luck, Mac,” he replied as he punched the button to hang up. The General turned his swivel chair and stared out of his tall window. He just loved it when a plan came together.

At 0930 hours, Colonel Sarah Mackenzie responded to a return call from the base CO’s yeoman, and within minutes stood in front of his desk.

“Have a seat, Mac. Two weeks emergency leave?” he raised his eyebrows.

“Yes, Captain. It’s sort of a family emergency,” she explained to the senior officer. Though their rank was the same, Harry Black was on his twilight tour and deserved the extra respect. “I have the office covered with the addition of a new attorney. My XO can handle things in my absence and he has my cell number.”

“I see. I didn’t realize you had close family,” he asked conversationally. “And I’ve told you before to call my Harry in here.” Unfortunately, with the arrival of the carrier and its air wing this weekend the gossip lines had worked overtime. His wife had been pleased to inform him that the fleet’s lothario had been spotted several times with the JLSO commander.

It was none of his business, but she was a top-flight officer. She’d served well in the newly created command the past eighteen months, and he wouldn’t be pleased to see her hurt.

“I don’t, Harry. It’s a friend’s family. Captain Rabb, the Abe Lincoln’s CAG, just lost his aunt and uncle in a plane crash. He has to go to Montana to see to some family business pertaining to their loss. He’s asked me to accompany him.” She knew she didn’t have to explain, but she liked the base CO. He’d been very supportive since she arrived. They’d developed a professional friendship and she felt his intentions were benign.

“Captain Rabb?” he questioned, less surprised than disturbed. “Are you friends, Mac?” he struggled to keep his voice neutral.

“More than friends, sir. That’s the other thing I needed to make you aware of. The Captain and I have established a relationship. There’s a good possibility it will become permanent.”

“A permanent relationship? That sounds serious. Are you sure about this, Mac? The captain has quite a reputation. I wouldn’t want to see you hurt. He works pretty fast and I understand, and doesn’t stick around long.” His comments were completely out of line and he knew it, but he didn’t want her falling victim to Rabb’s charms.

Mac hesitated for a moment before replying. She knew of Harm’s reputation, but since she’d been transferred here, he was either out to sea or when in port he had worked at Whidbey when they weren’t conducting exercises. She worked out of Bremerton. Their paths hadn’t crossed. Her initial response had been to tell Harry Black it was her personal life and none of his business, but something, perhaps the feeling he had her best interest at heart stayed her.

“I’ve known the captain for eleven years. We served at JAG Headquarters together for nine years. Two years ago, we were separated by duty assignments. When we met again last Friday, on official business, we found that the separation hadn’t changed how we felt. The captain, that is Harm, has always had an undeserved reputation where women are concerned, I can assure you he’s an honorable man,” she defended.

“Humph,” the captain grumped. “I’ve always trusted your judgment, Mac, and I don’t intend to change my opinion now, just be careful. I’m not sure your captain is the same man you knew two years ago,” he warned. As far as Captain Harry Black was concerned if half of what he’d heard of Rabb was true the man would make Casanova look like an amateur.

“Good luck, Mac, and extend my condolences to Captain Rabb if you will,” he smiled at her. “Just don’t stay away too long. You’re a valuable officer, I’d hate to have to break in a new JAG.” His smile and comment was reminiscent of something she’d heard in the distant past. Only now, she realized that when Harm had said it he’d actually meant something completely different.

“I will. Thank you, captain” she accepted his concern only faintly troubled by his attitude. Harm had been honest with her about his social life. She also believed he was being honest about what he wanted for their future. On the other hand, he hadn’t been specific. But if she was going to even consider spending her life with him, she had to trust him. Rumors and gossip in the face of what she knew about him after nine years as partners would not easily shake her faith.


JLSO Northwest
Bremerton, Washington
Early evening

As Harm left the building that morning he’d walked to Mac’s car whistling to himself. He’d known there’d been gossip, he’d heard it occasionally. Some of it was true, but even he’d been surprised at the enormity of his reputation. He’d laughed as he considered that even as a twenty-three year old jet jockey fresh out of flight school, he would never have been able to keep up with the stories being told about him.

He’d been permitted to start his leave immediately, and after checking with Mac about the success of her request for leave, he’d run one important errand then headed back home. First thing he’d done was to call his Mom. He needed to find out if she had any more information.

What he found was that she had problems of her own. Frank was back in the hospital after a setback following his triple bypass. Though Frank had always seemed low key at home, he hadn’t risen to a VP at Chrysler without possessing the deadly type ‘A’ personality. Nearing seventy-five, his body was now paying the toll.

Torn between his two newest responsibilities and being there for his Mom he was silently berating himself when she read his mind and told him she’d be fine. She had promised to call if she needed him. Knowing his Mom she would will Frank healthy again. Harm knew she was a strong woman, but from time to time, he was newly amazed over how strong she actually was.

He’d then contacted the investigating agency on the crash to find out what was happening. At this point they were either unable or unwilling to add anything to the sparse information he already possessed. In frustration he had gone out to his garage, taken his Lexus out of mothballs, and serviced it in readiness for the trip. Sometimes working with his hands, doing mundane tasks, allowed him to sort out his thoughts and options when stuff started coming at him.

It was 1715 hours when he walked into the JLSO to pick up Mac. She had spent the day arranging with her XO to take over in her absence. He took in the surroundings as he passed through to her office. His pride in her accomplishments had always been strong.

He hoped she would be able to leave soon. They would have to hurry, they still had to pack the Lexus for the trip. The Corvette would have been more fun, but this time of year they risked weather that was better suited to four-wheel drive.

Mac had tried to convince him that her Jeep was not only newer, but it had that GPS beckoning to help them find this ranch in the middle of nowhere. Harm declined. He had only been there a few times, and on each of those occasions, he’d been picked up at the airport and flown to the ranch by his uncle. However, the area could be rough and he’d rather use his eight-year-old car than her new one.

A very young yeoman with short curly red hair and a nose full of freckles greeted him as he paused at her desk.

“May I help you, Captain?” she couldn’t hide a twinkling smile behind the mask of duty as she stood to give him proper courtesy.

“Yes. I’m Captain Rabb, Colonel Mackenzie is expecting me,” he replied waving her back to her seat.

“Oh, yes, sir. Colonel Mackenzie is on the phone right now. Would you like a cup of coffee while you wait? I’ll be happy to get it for you,” she indicated the break room to the side of the office. So this was the infamous Captain Rabb. The man was not only extremely handsome he just oozed a sincere charm. A charm she readily admitted she would not be immune to even with their age difference.

“No, thanks. I’ll be fine,” he replied more politely than she expected.

She returned to her seat and watched the good-looking captain from the corner of her eye. Monday morning gossip, and the look on the colonels face this morning, had combined to tell her that this man had captured her CO’s rather closed off heart. The idea brought a smile to her face. She sincerely hoped for the colonel’s sake that his reputation had been exaggerated. She was fiercely protective of Colonel Mackenzie, as were the rest of the staff.

Harm turned half away from her. Perusing the bookshelf nearby with its ever-present supply of law books, he was not entirely oblivious to the speculation in those sparkling green eyes. Good Lord, had the entire northwest Naval establishment awaited his return from the sea duty to give them something to do?

Less than a minute later, he glanced up and noticed the light go off on her phone console. Just then, a somewhat husky voice greeted him from behind.

“Captain, I didn’t realize you knew I was stationed here. Are you here to give me more tutoring?” The tone barely hovered between respectful and flirtatious.

Harm froze, turning slowly to confront the piercing stare of Lieutenant Susan Allan.

“Uh, no. I didn’t know, Lieutenant,” he replied. “I’m here to…” his voice faltered. She was behind him. He could feel her. The look on the lieutenant’s face verified it.

“Colonel,” she greeted her new CO. “This is Captain Rabb, ma’am. We were stationed together on the Abe Lincoln. He was very helpful when I had questions about rules of engagement. He has an amazingly long memory,” she gushed. Harm felt his neck redden and his collar tighten at the underlying familiarity in the young woman’s tone. This was not going well. It was the last thing he had expected to encounter.

“Uh…Mac,” he turned towards her. “Colonel,” he stumbled further.

“The captain and I are old friends, Allan,” Mac placed the flirtatious young officer firmly back in her proper box. “Did you have a question about something?” Her tone was dismissive.

“Oh. Oh, no, ma’am,” she centered herself. “I just wanted to say hello to the captain. I guess I’ll get back to my desk.”

Mac nodded, and the young blonde officer scurried away in defeated acceptance. It was more than apparent to her who the captain belonged to. No wonder he’d always been the model of perfect manners with her.

“Mac...I…that wasn’t,” Harm started.

“Not here, Harm,” she turned back into her office. Mac’s young yeoman watched the exchange with wide eyes, and decided wisely to place the encounter in her ‘none of your business’ file.

As Harm walked through the door, Mac closed it firmly behind him. “Mac,” he started again, “that wasn’t…I mean…”

“Don’t. It’s not necessary,” she stopped him.

“What do you mean?” He felt the cold chill of impending loss.

“I mean, Harm, we’ve been apart for two years.”

He nodded agreement.

“And we never really expected to see each other again, that’s been established.”

He nodded again.

“I don’t want you to feel you have to explain every moment of those two years to me. It wouldn’t be normal if you hadn’t dated occasionally, or even frequently,” she allowed. Her tone was serious. Her eyes affirmed that it wasn’t an issue she intended to explore.

“You didn’t.” It was a statement.

“I didn’t for different reasons. In time I may have, but it wasn’t time for me yet. Whatever happened in the past is in the past, if all you said about us this weekend is true,”

“Yes. It is.”

“Then let’s forget it and get on with our lives,” she suggested.

“Just this, Mac. Nothing happened with Susan. Okay?” he looked at her intensely

“Okay,” she accepted, but didn’t want to discuss it.

“She was having a little trouble with her threat assessments and recommendations.” He couldn’t let it drop there. He’d take his lumps for the thing’s he’d done, but he didn’t want this hanging between them. Mac might have to work with Lieutenant Allan for a while.

“Several times,” he continued, “Captain Orson, the Lincoln’s CO asked me for a second opinion. I tried to demur, it was no longer my position, but he took me down a peg informing me that anyone on board his ship who had information he needed was in the proper position to give it. A couple of times I gave him a different answer than Lieutenant Allan. She found out. At first, she was angry. Then she came around and asked me to help her understand better. She’s bright enough and she had the technical side, the book side, but she hadn’t the experience to apply it. We would meet in the coffee room, or the JAG office between my missions, and I’d give her examples and run test scenarios for her. She caught on quickly, but I think maybe she might have been looking for something else as well.”

“You think?” Mac cocked a curious eyebrow at him.

“Mac, please,” he worried. “I didn’t do anything to encourage her.”

“Harm? Do you ever look in the mirror?”

“Of course,” he puzzled over her question.

“No, I mean really look. You don’t have to ‘do’ anything to encourage women.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you have any idea why women come on to you?”

“Probably the wings,” he shrugged. “And the dress whites,” he added trying for a joke. “Most of them go for it…the uniform. Except you, that is. You never were impressed.”

“Don’t believe it, flyboy. I just wanted to see if there was anything else in the package, and by the time I found the substance…well by that time there was so much else that had happened.” She shrugged, mentally tallying all the roadblocks, the other women, the other men, everything that had interfered with any chance they ever had of a relationship.

“This isn’t one of them, Mac,” he read her thoughts, needing her to believe it.

“I know that, Harm. I just wanted you to understand it didn’t matter if it was. It’s the past. We can’t change the past. We have to go from here.”

“Then why did you want me to come in here,” he didn’t follow her reasoning. He’d expected a scene full of hurt feelings and recriminations.

“Because you looked so damned uncomfortable. I wanted you to have a minute to regroup. It wasn’t something you could do out there. Feel better now, sailor?” she smiled.

“Yeah. Thanks, Mac. And thanks for understanding.”

“Let’s go, flyboy. We have a lot of work to do. My XO’s got the con.” She reached up and quickly brushed his lips as she passed him.

They walked out the door, and she closed it, locking it behind her. “Good night, Brady,” she directed at her yeoman’s sincere smile.

“Good night, ma’am,” the young woman grinned impishly through her attempt to remain neutral. Her curiosity overcame her training as she watched them cross the office.

Harm followed Mac only half step behind her. With an expectant grin, he asked in a voice that signaled the return of her cocky flyboy. “So you’re saying the dress whites did work?”

She returned the smile over her shoulder, continuing to walk to the front door with an indulgent shake of her head. “Yes, Harm,” she answered in a low voice meant only for his ears. “They worked.”


End of five

Big Blue Sky
Part Six

Hours later
Harm’s cabin
Somewhere on the peninsula

He leaned against the bedroom doorway, watching her fold and pack their clothes. Dressed in a faded t-shirt and old blue jeans, he crossed his arms and cocked one bare foot against the other. He’d just finished cleaning up the kitchen and still had the soft dishtowel draped over his shoulder.

She was attacking her chore as though their luggage would have to stand inspection before they left in the morning. He hadn’t seen that kind of precision since his days at the Academy.

There’d been a slight reticence to her throughout dinner. She hadn’t been cold or distant just more...distracted, and as she finished the laundry and began loading their bags she’d become very quiet. Not just the quiet of working in another room, but withdrawn into some mental process that now appeared to consume her. She hadn’t even noticed him standing there watching her.

“Penny for your thoughts”

“Oh,” she startled slightly. “I didn’t realize…”

“Sneaking up on a Marine isn’t an easy thing to do,” he smiled trying to lighten the moment.

“I guess I was somewhere else just then,” she admitted.

“Want to share?”

“It’s not important, Harm. Just mind wandering, you know…” she waved her hand dismissively.

“Maaac, talk to me,” he said in that way he had.

“Its nothing, Harm, really,” but he knew now she had something bothering her and it was important. Important enough for her to avoid it, and important enough for him to find out what it was.

He walked over to her, took the pile of harshly structured underwear from her hands, and put it down. “We’re not being deployed, Marine,” he smiled turning her towards him.

“Now tell me. What’s bothering you so badly you have to torture our clothes?”

“Really, Harm, it’s just some random thoughts,” she prevaricated.

“Don’t you want to go with me?” he thought he’d clear things in order of importance

“Of course I do. Why would you think that?”

“I don’t, but something’s bothering you, and if you won’t tell me then I guess I’ll have to dust off my cross examination skills.” He smiled slightly, still trying to keep this light, but the more they talked the more he worried. Then an idea hit him.

“Mac is this about what happened…this afternoon…at your office? About Lt. Allan?” he wondered. He had thought she believed him about that relationship, or lack of one.

“No. No, Harm, not really.”

“Are you sure? You thought something had happened didn’t you?”

“You said it didn’t. I believed you.”

“Perhaps…but before I told you that… Mac, how long have you been here? Stationed here I mean. You never told me.”

“Eighteen months.”

“I see,” he nodded. “And in that eighteen months has anyone mentioned that I was stationed here too?”

She shrugged with one shoulder as though avoiding an answer. “I knew that, but it was the only duty Cresswell could find that fit my rank,” she excused. She’d never clearly understood why she’d been picked for this plum assignment.

“I’m not saying you followed me, Mac, although I could wish you had. I wish you’d called me.”

“It didn’t really appear you needed my company,” she looked away.

“So, you heard the stories, too.” This was the crux of the matter.

“It hasn’t anything to do with now,” she looked at him squarely, showing she believed and trusted in him from this point on.

“But you did hear about before.”

“Harm…you told me you hadn’t been alone when we talked Friday afternoon. I understood that.”

“And I haven’t been. I’ll admit, I deserve some of what’s been said, but let me tell you what’s going to happen by the time we get back, Mac.” He tilted her chin up, looking into her eyes. She nodded slightly to show she was listening. Since she didn’t resist, he let go and placed both hands on her shoulders.

“That little scene in your office this afternoon? Your yeoman, or someone else who witnessed that will tell a friend…say…in the motor pool, then he’ll tell someone who works in…maybe…the commissary, then she’ll tell someone who works…possibly…on the piers, and by the time we return the story will be all over the base, the shipyard, and most likely Whidbey and Everett, that I took you both home tonight. It’s been happening that way ever since I moved here.”

Her eyes were wide now, and a little shocked.

“Harm, that’s just wrong. Why would people do that?”

“Beats me, Marine,” he shook his head in bewilderment. “It’s like someone is keeping some cosmic scorecard, and every time I speak to a woman it’s marked down as a conquest. I can’t believe some of the stories I’ve heard. Even if I were prone to bragging, I wouldn’t tell them,” he finished with exasperation.

She smiled now a little more relaxed. “Well…they do seem a little exaggerated. I didn’t really believe more than about half of them.”

“Exaggerated!! Mac as a cocky jet jock fresh from Pensacola, I couldn’t have kept up with twenty percent of what they say about me,” he burst out.

“Really?” she deadpanned. “And here I was looking forward to my share of that action.”

His eyes widened and he looked a little panicked, then she giggled.

“I’m kidding, Harm, although the story about the triplets was a really good one,” she teased more.

“Triplets? What are you talking about? Mac, you know that’s not my style.”

“I know, that’s what made it so good,” she was tormenting him now. “Cheerleaders, I heard.”

“Oh God! The Seahawks game,” he rubbed his face with both hands. “Mac, I went with a friend who’d been in college with one of the players. We had a locker room pass after the game. The girls were in the hallway below the stadium. They were hugging and kissing everyone because the team had won. I was just….handy,” he excused.

“Oh dear, is that all?” she pouted in mock disappointment, “and here we all heard you took them home for the entire weekend.” Unable to contain herself further, she fell onto the bed beside their bags in a burst of laughter.

Harm moved the bags to the floor, reclining beside her, waiting for her to finish. He had a little trouble not chuckling at the ridiculous story himslef.

When her laughter subsided, he asked, “You done now, Marine?”

Nodding, she stifled another giggle before turning serious.

“So is that nonsense what’s been bothering you his evening?”

She looked down and away, then answered still facing the wall. “Harm I told you, I believe in our future, the past doesn’t matter. Real or exaggerated it’s none of my business.”

“Probably not, if you want to be technical about it, but this is a permanent relationship we’re building here, Mac. Part of that has to be trust. I want this to go all the way. That means forever with rings and marriage, and anything else fate wants to give us. I don’t want our future haunted by ghosts of the past. If there’s anything you need to know, ask me. If I want to know something, I’ll ask you. Fair enough?”

“Fair enough,” she nodded, but still didn’t meet his eyes.

“So, tell me what’s bothering you?” He was patient but insistent.

Taking a deep breath she finally admitted, “Sandy.”

“Sandy? That was over more than a year and a half ago,” he wasn’t angry just puzzled.

“Not when it was over, when it started.”

He thought a minute. “Oh, I see. Why did I go to her so soon?”

She nodded picking at her fingernails. She knew that only weeks before he’d loved her, he’d told her so their first night.

He covered her hands with his to stop the nervous movement. “In a word, Mac? Mic,” he admitted.

Her eyes met his. “Mic?” Then she saw. “Australia…when you said no, and I…”

I didn’t say ‘no’, Mac. I said ‘not yet’. There were lots of things...”

“I know,” she stopped him. “I found that out later. Too late, almost,” she admitted. “But at the time…”

“You thought I was telling you something permanent, something negative, in Sydney,” he suggested.

“Yes, I did, and two years ago you believed we’d never see each other again.”

“I did. I’m not proud of what I did. It wasn’t until later I made the connection and realized why I’d done it. If I searched deep enough I guess I was trying to find a way to break it off even then. However when she did, I wasn’t ready to admit it.”

“But you said when you got the letter you…”

“…went on a three day drunk? Yeah I did, but it was wrapped in a lot more than just being publicly dumped in front of an entire shipload of buddies.”

“How did they know? I mean, email is private.”

“Oh, no, not this one. She addressed it to me care of the ships general email system. By the time it got to me…well, let’s just say it wasn’t private any more.”

“She did that? Wow!! What did you say to her? What did you do?” Her eyes widened at the anger behind the act.

“Nothing, that’s just it. I haven’t a clue where that came from. I’d made a few phone calls to the NAS Whidbey JAG office, but I still don’t see…” he trailed off with a shrug.

“What about, Harm? That was before I was here.”

“I know,” he evaded her question.

“What about?” She insisted.

“I needed to check on an old friend,” he told her cryptically. “I’d heard the person was injured.”

“How many?”

“How many what?”

“How many calls, Harm?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged again as she eyed him closely. “A dozen, maybe two,” then he sighed, giving up. “Thirty-one, I made thirty-one calls, Mac, before someone finally was able to tell me you’d been released from Bethesda. But no one could tell me where you’d been reassigned.”

She looked at him for several long hard seconds. He’d been checking on her. How this woman found out was beyond her, but if there was someone with a leaky mouth in her command she’d find out. On the other hand this entire region seemed to be populated with leaky mouths, and most of her staff had rotated out and been replaced by now.

“I imagine that would do it if she heard about it,” she agreed. “I’m sorry, Harm. I didn’t really want to make you go over this again, it was just that one question. I see now how it could have happened.”

She shied away from further discussion. Her uncertainties had been assuaged, and she certainly didn’t want to go near a subject that would bring up her time in Iraq. She wasn’t ready to address it yet. Not with Harm, not with anyone. They’d made her see another psychologist, but that was as far as she wanted to relive it.

Relieved to brush the subject aside, she didn’t question how he’d found out that she’d been wounded in action. She let the subject drop.

“C’mon, I’ll finish the packing, you go get ready for bed. We have to be up at ‘o dark thirty’ in the morning. I want to be on the road by 0700.” He pulled her upwards and nudged her towards the bathroom.

A few minutes later, she returned to find the bags closed and stacked by the door. Harm was already in bed and the only light left on was the one by the bed. She turned off the light switch, and in the cool darkness, she slid between the sheets into his warm comforting arms.

End of six

Big Blue Sky
Part Seven


Brookes Ranch
Western Montana
Wednesday, 7 Nov 2007
1045 hours

Harm turned the Lexus into the front gate of the ranch and slowed the car to a stop. Just inside the fence, to one side of the road, the young girl sat bareback on her palomino paint. His cream-colored mane and tale moved with the breeze, his eyes matched the blue of the sky.

Her face might have been carved of stone, and Harm would have bet that she’d still not shed a tear for her loss. Her body was held so tight that stress cracks were nearly visible in her demeanor. She was at the same time both hard and fragile. The slightest touch would cause her to crumble.

“Hi, Harm,” she greeted solemnly.

“Hi, Sam.”

“Who is she?” The slight inclination of her head targeted Mac.

“She’s a very good friend.”

“Is she your wife?”

“No.”

“Then she can’t sleep with you, Grammie won’t allow it. She can sleep in the bunkhouse.”

Something in Mac stirred. The child had waited for her cousin. Possibly the last pillar of strength left in her world, and he’d come with an interloper. Sam needed to distance them from each other. Her resentment was outrageous and overwhelming. And perfectly understandable.

Mac was startled from her thoughts by Harm’s reply.

“Is there a preacher around?”

The child eyed him for a moment. “In town,” she shrugged.

“Will he come out here?”

“If Grammie calls.” Her resentment was growing as the seconds passed.

“How about it, Mac?” he turned to her. “Can’t have you sleeping in the bunkhouse.” There was a sublime ridiculousness about this conversation, but Harm was treating every phrase with the utmost sincerity.

“Harm we can’t plan a wedding in two weeks,” she was dismayed, though she understood what was happening.

“I’m not talking about a wedding, Mac. A wedding is a party. We’ll have that later. I’m talking about getting married. It will solve a lot of things, starting with any further paperwork. No sense changing things again in a few months.”

“Are you going to argue all day, or are you coming to the house?” the brittle child challenged, her patience at an end.

“Mac?” Harm pled with his voice and eyes. She understood and responded, but in a different way than he expected. Climbing from the car, she addressed the child.

“My name is Mac. I guess you’re Sam.” She walked around the front of the car. Slowly but steadily she approached the girl on the horse. Holding out her hand so the horse could get her scent, she stroked his neck with a firm hand. He barely moved with the breath he took, but suddenly gave a great huffing sound and a small shake of his head before returning to his statue like pose.

“Yes,” was the only answer.

“What’s his name?”

“Frankie.”

“Interesting name.”

“Grammie named him after some old singer because of his eyes,” her voice changed slightly. The horse was obviously a soft spot with the child

“He’s beautiful. I’ve never seen a paint this color.”

“He’s different,” Sam allowed, curiosity creeping in about this stranger who knew paints.

“Would you like to ride up to the house with Harm? Maybe you have things to talk about. I could ride Frankie back for you,” Mac offered.

“He might not let you,” Sam resisted with a small motion of one shoulder.

“Does he do that often?”

“Not really,” she backed away abruptly. “He’s really very sweet. I…I don’t have his saddle.” She threw up another roadblock, but Mac could see her weakening.

“I can ride bareback.” She could feel Harm’s eyes questioning her.

“Really?” The young girl hovered somewhere between impressed and disbelieving.

“Yes. I can. If he’ll let me. Do I just follow this road?”

“Yes.” She wavered a moment longer then slid to the ground. “Show me,” she challenged.

Mac stepped close to the horse, stroked his sides and back gently but firmly, then grasped the reins and a handful of his mane, and sprang to his back. It wasn’t easy; fortunately, Frankie wasn’t a tall horse. She’d not done it in years and only sheer determination allowed her to succeed.

The child stepped back and looked up at her with grudging admiration.

“Does he respond to leg pressure?” Mac questioned her.

Nodding, Sam backed towards Harm’s SUV still watching this strange woman who seemed to know things. Mac flexed the horse’s neck to judge resistance, then walked him in a tight circle in each direction. Frankie responded beautifully.

“I’ll go on ahead. You follow when you’re ready,” she told Sam, then watched as the girl ran around the car and climbed in beside Harm. Mac turned Frankie down the road and nudged at him with her body movement. As the horse stepped into a smooth canter Mac glanced back, then looked quickly away only seconds after she saw Sam collapse into Harm’s arms, sobbing against his neck.

It wouldn’t have been fair to make the little girl release her grief in front of a stranger. She and Frankie would ride ahead and wait at the house. Harm and Sam would be along in time.

“What do you think Frankie, should I marry the man?” The beautiful gold and white animal gave another rumbling huff. “Yeah, I think so, too,” Mac replied, as she and the animal continued towards home. She didn’t need to work at it, he knew the way to his barn.

Mac and Frankie fell to a walk as they approached the sprawling old ranch house that had obviously seen many additions over time. Harm told her it had been in Joan’s family for over one hundred and twenty years. She was still more than two hundred feet away when the front door banged open and a teenage boy sailed off the porch heading straight for her. A medium sized dog with a tightly muscled body jumped up and followed quickly at his heels. Sliding to a stop at Frankie’s head, he took hold of the horse’s reins and challenged her.

“What are you doing with Frankie, and where’s Sam?”

“She’s with Harm. I think she needed to talk to him,” Mac explained, not wanting to give up Sam’s need for comfort.

“Oh. Yeah.” Shaun Reed pulled back slightly. “She’s been waiting for him. Wouldn’t even let Grammie comfort her. She’s wound up so tight she’s ‘bout to break,” he shook his head in a good imitation of what Mac imagined the adult reaction had been in the last few days.

“Who are you?” He remembered his challenge a little too late for his sense of protection.

“Colonel Sarah Mackenzie. I’m a friend of Harm’s,” she informed him.

He digested that information, “I guess they’ll be along soon. I’m Shaun. You can help me put Frankie away until they get here.”

“Shaun?” a wiry older woman called from that porch. “Who’s that with Frankie?”

“Harm’s friend, Grammie. We’re going to put Frankie away. Sam’s with Harm.”

“Nonsense, young man. Where are your manners?” she started across the yard. “Guests don’t take care of the horses.”

“Sorry, Grammie. This is Colonel Sarah Mackenzie. She’s a friend of Harm’s,” he repeated the explanation with the introduction.

“Pleased to meet you, Colonel. I’m Elizabeth Brookes.” To Mac’s practiced eye the older woman also looked ‘wound pretty tight’.

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Brooks. Please call me Mac. Everyone does.”

“Okay, Mac, you call me Beth,” the woman told her with a warmer look. “Sam’s with Harm?”

Mac just nodded

Gail returned the nod. “She’s needed him. Glad he could get here so soon.”

“We’d have been here sooner, but he only flew in Friday afternoon, and his ship docked Saturday evening…”

“You did the best you could, and I thank you for it. She was inconsolable, wouldn’t let it out.”

Mac swallowed a small lump in her throat for the child, for both of them really, and turned to Shaun as he started to lead Frankie away.

“I’d really like to help Shaun with Frankie, if you don’t mind Mrs.…Uh…Beth. After all,” she glanced at the boy, “I rode him, and I should see to his care. Harm and Sam will be along in a while, but not soon, I think.”

The woman nodded her assent. Shaun could probably use someone to talk to as well. Someone not immediately affected by this sudden loss.

“I’ve got cold drinks in the house when you’re done,” she replied turning abruptly away.

Mac fell in step beside Shaun, the dog padded quietly behind. They walked in silence across the yard and around behind the house to a small horse barn in back.

“Does he stay in the barn all the time?” she asked to make conversation more than anything.

“Naw, he stays mostly in that pasture beside the barn.”

Mac glanced up and saw at least three other horses in a pasture that looked like it might be about ten acres. There were a few trees and some sparse grass that the animals nibbled at lazily.

“You in the Army?” he eyed her curiously.

“Marines,” she shook her head, hiding her amusement at his surprise.

“Marines, huh?” He cocked an eyebrow at her somewhat like Harm when he found something hard to believe, then wisely decided she wouldn’t be likely to lie. He was trying very hard not to be impressed. After all, he was almost fifteen.

They had reached the open door of the barn and Shaun led Frankie inside tethering him to a ring on a post. He rooted around in a small room beside the door and returned with a worn nylon halter and several brushes.

“You know how to put this on?” he asked Mac.

“Let me try,” she offered. Taking the piece of equipment, she slipped it around Frankie’s neck, and fastened it, then tied the lead rope to the same ring on the wall. Quickly, with a practiced hand, she slipped the headstall off the horse and gently removed the bit from his mouth before bringing the soft halter up over his nose and around the top of his head, re-tying it in place.

Turning to Shaun, she saw by his look that he approved of her ability to handle a horse.

“We don’t really have to tie Frankie. He won’t go anywhere, but I wanted to see if you knew what to do,” he admitted matter-of-factly.

“I’ve been around a horse or two,” her lips twitched briefly. “Do I pass?”

“Yes, ma’am, you sure do,” he smiled sheepishly. He handed her a brush and they began working on opposite sides of Frankie, brushing the dust from the horse’s coat. “We have to take special care with his mane and tail,” he cautioned Mac. “Sam won’t have him getting tangles. I remember once when she was sick, she threatened Mom…” he stopped cold and Mac waited. “She…uh…threatened to get up…out of bed…and…and…uh…go…go…brush… Mom did it for…for three…days…” Silence ensued for several long minutes.

“It’s hard ma’am, real hard.” His voice shook when he finally spoke.

“I know it is, Shaun. We can’t change it. I’m sorry,” she spoke so softly it was hard to hear, then she walked a few steps and looked around Frankie’s neck. Shaun was standing, leaning his head into the animal. The movement of his shoulders was the only indication that he was crying.

“Shaun?” she said softly. She half expected him to turn away and she would have left him to his privacy, but instead he turned towards her and came into her arms. This fourteen-year-old boy, so close to being a man, but not quite, not yet. When he finally regained himself, he looked up at her. “You won’t tell?” he asked.

“No, Shaun, I won’t tell. Let’s put Frankie to bed, shall we?”

He turned away and dried his face with his hand. When he turned back, he was the stoic teenager again. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“You’re welcome,” she accepted seriously. To diminish his thanks would be to diminish his grief, something she could never do. It wasn’t the same circumstances, but she knew what it was like to lose a parent. She couldn’t begin to understand what it was like to lose them both at the same time.

Together they led Frankie to his pasture, took off his halter, and turned him out into the field. The horse took off at a run and circled the field before stopping at the fence-line closest to the front yard.

Standing on the bottom rung, leaning over the top, was Sam. Harm walked slowly across the yard towards Mac.

“Did you brush his mane and tail?” Sam called.

“Course we did, Sam,” Shaun called back, in a voice that indicated the question was just dumb.

“I’ll tell Grammie you’re here,” he spoke to Harm after a brief manly hug. Then with a shy look at Mac, and a returning look of encouragement from her, he headed to the house.

“Everything okay?” Harm asked, reaching out and gently taking her arm.

“Just fine. You?” She looked up at him.

He turned to glance at Sam then back at Mac. “It will be, in time.”

“Yeah,” she replied. “Let’s go in, we’re expected for cold drinks.”

Slipping his arm around her waist, he guided her towards the house. “You didn’t answer my question. You want to get married, or you want to sleep in the bunkhouse?” he chuckled.

“I’m not sure,” she answered impishly. “I haven’t seen the bunkhouse.”

End of seven

Big Blue Sky
Part Eight


Brookes Ranch
Western Montana
Thursday, 08 Nov 2007
0715

The early light cast long shadows across the landscape. Warmed by the sun, the moisture from last night’s rain swirled a low-lying mist, sending wispy tendrils to dance among the folded hills. Harm stepped onto the wide porch and let his eyes play across the vista before him.

He’d been kicked out of the kitchen this morning for the first time he could ever remember. Beth told him to go find Billy that they had more important things to do than cook eggs. Harm figured that in time Mac would want another of his omelets, but for now, he’d go along with the established way of the ranch. She’d smiled at his discomfort and shooed him out according to Beth’s edict.

As he scanned the pastures, he spotted the ranch foreman walking towards the house. The weather would turn cold soon, and the cattle had to be brought down from the higher pastures quickly. Billy had made that very clear last night.

Billy was an anachronism, a man out of his time. Though he’d flown for the newly formed Air Force as a very young man in Korea, he preferred a way of life that allowed him to tend the land and animals. Once he’d stepped out of that last government plane, he never set foot in one again. The back for a horse, or the front seat of a pickup was as far from the ground as he cared to be. To Harm he looked like he’d walked directly out of a Tom Selleck western.

With a large high crowned cowboy hat, and a plaid flannel shirt topped by a leather vest with a neckerchief, wearing Levis of an indeterminate age, he was the quintessential cowboy. He sported a flowing mustache and slightly shaggy hair that had very likely been trimmed with a tool he’d found in the horse barn. Everything about his wiry five foot six frame was functional down to his well-worn boots. Though much shorter than Harm, he carried himself with a confidence that made them more than equal. This was a simple, direct man who was at home on the wide open spaces of a cattle ranch. He gave no grief and took none from anyone.

The very moment he started talking about the land and the cattle, Harm knew this was the ally he needed. A lesser man would have resented the intrusion of this newcomer who in the old days would have been named a ‘dude’ or a ‘tenderfoot’. But Billy had no need to feel threatened. His knowledge gave him more power than he cared to deal with, and sharing the knowledge only increased his value.

From his direction of travel, it looked like Billy had been down by the bullpens this morning. It was a series of six, individual, single animal pastures with stockade like fencing to secure the large and sometimes difficult breeding animals. Harm would need to find a diplomatic way of insisting he be called whenever something was happening. It was the only way he would learn. Division of duties could be established later, for now he needed involvement.

Harm smiled and nodded as the man strode towards the porch.

“Get kicked out of the kitchen, Captain?” He asked with a knowing twinkle in his eyes.

“How’d you know?” Harm chuckled.

“Your uncle liked to cook. Beth is just establishing her territory. She never liked him in the kitchen, said he just made a mess she had to clean up.”

“I know how to clean up my own messes,” Harm defended himself.

“I’ll bet you do,” Billy eyed him. “Kinda surprised your wife didn’t stick up for you though.”

“She never misses a chance to bust my chops,” Harm smiled.

“She’s a Marine,” Billy shrugged and opened the door. “Coffee,” he nodded walking into the aroma.

Harm shook his head in disbelief, and followed.

His wife. He liked the sound of that. A week ago he’d been unattached to anything in the world except the Navy, now as the result of a family tragedy he had reconnected with Mac and been blessed with a wife, two kids, and a cattle ranch. Not a bad week’s work even if he hadn’t a clue what to do with any of them. It would be both fun and challenging to learn.

One of the first things Mac had asked Beth when they settled in the living room with drinks yesterday morning was whether there was anyone available to marry them.

“There’s a church in town,” Beth answered somewhat taken aback. “We can call the preacher’s wife and see when it’s available, or if you just want we have a JP. He has to be there anyway. He issues and signs the license. How long you planning on staying?” She knew they were both on active duty. There hadn’t been time to change their status so they would have to return soon, and that was another problem that needed to be dealt with.

“We have two weeks leave,” Mac replied.

“Not much time to plan a wedding,” Beth commented.

“We weren’t exactly thinking of a wedding,” Mac took Harms hand. “For right now, we just want to get married.”

“You asking me to marry you, Marine?” Harm grinned from ear to ear.

“You have any objections, Flyboy?” She cocked her head at him.

“Not me,” he responded.

Beth looked upon the interchange amused, but puzzled. Their brand of humor was similar to Charlie’s, but on a much deeper level.

“You mean now, Colonel?” she asked incredulity dripping from her words.

“Yes, ma’am, now. This afternoon if possible.”

Beth sat back in the chair staring hard at Mac. She’d never heard of such a thing…unless…her eyes dropped to Mac’s mid-section.

“Oh, no, Beth, nothing like that,” Mac caught the eye movement. “We just thought…”

“…that is…” Harm continued.

“I told them about the rules, Grammie,” Sam spoke up.

“Rules? What are you talking about, Samantha?” Beth gave the child a stern stare.

“You know. What you told me two weeks ago, about people sleeping together when they aren’t married.”

“Samantha, I was referring to that terrible movie you were watching. You needed to know that wasn’t the right way to behave.” Beth was stunned at the child’s temerity. “Look, Harm, Mac, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“I don’t understand, Grammie. Why is it wrong for the people in the movie, and wrong for me, but alright for them?” the young girl asked impatiently.

“Samantha Jean, go to your room. We’ll settle this later.”

“Pardon me, Beth, but I think she’s right. It isn’t okay, nor should it be,” Harm interceded. “I have to admit, we…uh…we didn’t give it enough thought before we arrived, but Sam has a point. It’s not right, not in your home.

“Look we can accommodate you both, you don’t have to do something you don’t want to do,” Beth excused.

“I think we do, don’t we, Mac?” Harm turned to her as if she were the only one in the room.

“Yes,” she returned the look. “We do.”

Vaguely Harm heard Beth’s voice, “Your mother won’t forgive you if she misses this.”

“My mother won’t forgive me if I let this woman get away again. She’ll throw us a party when Frank gets better,” Harm smiled into Mac’s eyes, blessing the sudden impulse that had sent him shopping Monday morning. Those rings on her finger should permanently still the gossip when they returned to Washington.

Beth just stared, there was obviously history here she knew nothing about. Given their determination, phone calls were made and a time was set for 7:00 pm that evening. Then Beth informed Mac in no uncertain terms that she would not be married in this house wearing Levis. Loading Mac and Sam into her truck, she hurried them off to the closest town twenty-five miles away to find a suitable dress.

It turned out to be faintly reminiscent of the dress Mac had worn in Russia. Harm couldn’t remember what color it was, only that she looked beautiful. In Russia, he’d wondered what would happen if he pulled on that little string tie at the neckline. Last night he’d found out.

They had made love for hours to the soft music of rain on the roof. It surprised him how fresh and alert they both were when the sun came up this morning.

“Coffee,” Mac smiled up at him interrupting his thoughts.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks,” he blushed slightly, and wondered if everyone in the room knew what he was thinking, what they were thinking when they looked at each other. He didn’t dare raise his eyes to find out.

Concentrating hard on the contents of his cup, he heard Billy say something about one of the bulls just before Beth stuck a plate of food in his hand and shoved him gently towards the large table. Chuckling softly to herself, she handed another to Harm, then dished up breakfast for Mac, the children, and herself. This was all accomplished with quick skill, and everyone was seated before the first tendril of steam had risen from their food.

During breakfast, Billy started telling Harm about the problem with one of the bulls that would require the further attention of a vet. He’d been struck by a rattler earlier in the year and though he’d recovered from the infusion of venom easily, it had left a bad patch of skin on his leg that refused to heal.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d call me whenever there’s a problem,” Harm began. “I can’t learn if I’m not involved.”

“Don’t worry Captain, this coddlin’s only gonna last for today. Figured you deserved one day for your honeymoon,” Billy grinned.

Harm was flustered by the fact that he actually felt himself blushing. Across from him Mac stifled a small chuckle, and Beth even mustered a genuine smile.

Once he recovered he asked, “So what can we do? Hasn’t the vet looked at it?”

“Oh yeah, several times. He can’t figure out what else to do, but we either cut his leg off, which won’t do much good, or he dies from the continuing infection. Bull that big can’t stand on three legs, and he’s too old and tough for anything but expensive hamburger. Besides, it will be a big loss to the ranch and the breeding program. He’s our second best breeder, and came from some pretty special bloodlines.”

Though intensely curious, Harm was overwhelmed by his first problem as part owner in the ranch. He knew nothing about cattle except that Mac loved her steaks and hamburgers, and even less about medicine, particularly veterinary medicine.

Suddenly Shaun chimed in with a surprising bit of information. “We can still try the poultice and wrap Joe suggested. Can’t do any harm, we’re already talking about putting him down.” This suggestion was made both defensively and hopefully. Harm got the idea this conversation had taken place before and Shaun was looking for a new ally.

“Who’s Joe?” he asked.

“Local Indian,” Billy responded, biting into his last piece of toast.

“Native American?” Harm responded not wanting to foster prejudice among the children.

“Yeah,” Billy smiled benignly. “One of them. He’s a good man, runs the local feed store. He was out here the day it happened. He was talking to Shaun about this old time remedy his grandfather taught him years ago,” Billy snorted. He’d lived his entire life depending on vets and traditional medicine, and didn’t have much patience with the recent turn towards finding ‘natural’ or ‘old’ cures for things. Vets had always worked for him, but in this case he was stumped. Though it went against his grain, he was bordering on willing to give it a try.

“So what’s this about?” Harm turned to Shaun.

It was then that Harm discovered Shaun’s goal to be a veterinarian with a special emphasis on genetic research. He had ambitions of breeding cattle that didn’t require supplements. They would have an inbred hardiness to common diseases. But his secondary interest revolved around the idea of using ‘natural’ or ‘holistic’ medicines, and he never missed a chance to speak to Joe.

Joe’s father had been a mechanic, owning a local garage until he died at eighty-five. Joe’s grandfather had been what is commonly known as the ‘medicine man’ of the tribe, but modern ways had left little interest in his knowledge among his offspring. Except for Joe. He’d spent hours as a child, and then as a young man absorbing every thing his grandfather had to teach him. Shaun had become a believer years ago, when Joe had cured his puppy of a long forgotten disease that the vet’s had said was incurable.

Harm listened to Shaun as he related the information he’d received from Joe. “But we’ll have to call him to come back out. I remember most of the ingredients, but I don’t remember the proportions. I usually write this stuff down when he tells me, but I was sort of mad that day and forgot,” he looked down, then bravely met first Harm then Billy’s eyes. His anger had been at Billy and his father for dismissing the suggestion out of hand when it could have done no harm and might have helped.

“So at this point the bull is pretty much a write off?” Harm asked Billy.

The cowboy shrugged with acceptance, he knew where Harm was going with this thought. “The vet’s coming in a couple hours, but I don’t expect him to have made any startling new medical discoveries since the last time he was here.”

“So there’s nothing else useful we can do with the bull?” Harm queried further.

“Not unless you like hamburgers,” Billy grinned a bit sardonically.

“Mac does, but I doubt even she can eat that many,” Harm smiled in return.

“I figure it’s pointless not to allow Shaun to try his remedy. I gotta admit we’ve tried everything else.” Billy graciously surrendered. “If he succeeds, we’ve got a prize breeding bull and a new treatment. If he fails, well, we still have hamburger.” The smile that followed was genuine. He had done his best and he’d been defeated. He only worried now that if the ancient remedy had been capable of working that he’d waited too long to apply it.

“We’ll give it a try Shaun,” the foreman spoke to the young man as a contemporary although one of lesser rank. “The Captain’s right, we have nothing left to lose. I’ll call Joe after breakfast and ask him to come out when he can. I’m fairly certain he doesn’t want to share his family secrets with me,” Billy commented ruefully.

“Thank you, sir,” Shaun replied seriously, with no hint of triumph. He, too, worried that they had waited too long. His biggest fear though, was that Joe would come while he was in school and he would miss everything.

A few minutes later Shaun and Sam scrambled from the table and tumbled upstairs to collect their books. They were returning to school today for the first time since their parents went missing.

“I’m worried about them,” Beth confided to Mac. “Neither one of them has dealt with this much. It’s too soon for them to go back. There’s no closure.”

“It will take time,” Mac reassured Beth. “We’re all here for them, but they have to do it in their own way.”

“Maybe, but shutting it out isn’t good,” the grandmother insisted.

“No more so for adults,” Mac prodded gently. “Sometimes you have to set it aside for a little while, to get your strength back so you can deal with it. Once the authorities release the…uh…release Charlie and Joan we can have the funeral. Then everyone can get the closure they need. I just hope that’s before Harm and I have to return.” She turned pleading eyes on her new husband, willing him to do something.

“I’ll call today,” he promised.

“Good,” Beth abruptly rose from the table and collected her dishes to put in the sink. She was so obviously still struggling with her own grief.

Mac’s eyes met Harm’s in another silent conversation then she rose. “I’ll do that Beth.”

Beth just nodded placing the items back on the table. “I have to take the kids to the bus-stop out on the road,” she wiped her hands and excused herself. “I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes.”

“Take your time, I’ll take care of this,” Mac told the woman as she walked to the door.

Beth turned, “Maybe I’ll go see Donna for a while. She’s an old friend, lives down the road.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Mac agreed then turned back to clear the table. Beth wasn’t quite ready to let go of her feelings in front of virtual strangers either. In the background, Shaun and Sam raced for the old truck in some obvious contest for a favorite seat.

“I’ll help,” Harm rose with his plates and a few others.

“It’s okay. Don’t you need to go with Billy?”

“We’ll go in a minute, Colonel,” the foreman addressed her. “I know how to clean up my messes too.” The twinkle in his eye, and Harm’s grin, told her that they had already bonded in some way.

Twenty minutes later, after a quick call to the feed store in town, the three of them were headed across a pasture towards the bull pens. The sun was still warm on their backs, but promised cooler weather soon. They were halfway across the pasture when they heard the sound of hoofs thundering in their direction. Harm’s first thought was that one of the bulls was loose. He spun in place and stepped in front of Mac, facing whatever threat presented itself.

Billy watched with amusement as Harm’s protective instinct warred with his complete ignorance of the behavior of large western-bred animals. Mac tried to step from behind Harm to assess the threat. She at least had some experience from her time in Arizona. It wasn’t much, but it might serve them better than Harm’s childhood spent around dairy cattle.

Fifteen feet from them two horses and a huge steer came to an abrupt standstill, watching them with curiosity. The younger of the two horses broke ranks and walked forward until he could nuzzle Harm’s shirtfront.

Charmed by the colt, Harm reached out and stroked his neck as he’d seen Mac do the day before. There’d been a pair of cantankerous, retired draft horses on his grandmother’s farm, but nothing for riding. He’d learned to ride in California with his high school buddies, but those horses were impersonal, stabled, riding stock.

“The grey is ‘Shortie’ and this is her foal. Sam named him ‘Willy’, and that’s ‘Baby’,” Billy indicated the steer dismissively. The well trained mare slowly followed her foal when Billy reached a hand out to her. Finally, the steer approached quietly and nudged Mac’s hand to be petted.

“Baby?” Harm’s eyes grew a little wider.

“He was Sam’s first project. He was orphaned. She had to hand feed him and she got too attached. She couldn’t let him go. Charlie let her keep him for a pet.” Billy’s tone indicated he didn’t much approve. “After that she accepted she shouldn’t make pets of them. This is a ranch, the cattle are a crop same as if we raised corn. Sooner she learns that the happier she’ll be.”

He turned and headed for the fence. “Let’s go, we have work to do, then we need to talk about getting those steers out of the upper range.”

He couldn’t fault the captain’s bravery, but he had a lot of work to do teaching the man how to handle livestock. Later this morning, they’d start by checking out his riding skills.

End of eight

Big Blue Sky
Part Nine



Brookes Ranch
Western Montana
2230 Thursday

He leaned against the doorjamb with his arms crossed, watching her brush her teeth. It was becoming a typical pose as he discovered he loved to watch her even when she did the most mundane things. As she rinsed her mouth and toothbrush, then reached for a towel, he caught her eyes in the mirror. The open book on the quilt told him she had waited a while before preparing to go to bed. He’d been on the phone for almost forty minutes.

The look on his face gave her pause. She patted her mouth dry and asked without turning, “What is it? What did you find out?”

“They have released Charlie and Joan’s bodies. They’ll be at the funeral home in the morning. We can have the service Saturday afternoon,” he recited a little more clinically than she might have expected. Something else was going on.

“And?” she prompted.

“And they think they know how it happened,” he responded cryptically.

She just waited, not moving, still holding his eyes in the mirror.

“Rustlers,” he stated without elaboration.

“Rustlers?! What do you mean rustlers?” she was stunned. She leaned her hands on the counter top, rooted to the spot.

“Just that. Rustlers. Apparently, Charlie and Joan made a wide path when they flew from the ranch, to check the herd before continuing on their trip. They must have discovered the rustlers at work. No one knows for certain what happened, but they suspect Charlie tried to buzz the herd to scatter the cattle while Joan made the rather abrupt call for help. Best guess is before she could finish the call they were both severely injured by rifle fire. The fuselage was riddled with bullet holes. Charlie apparently survived for a few minutes and kept the plane in the air, but he soon lost consciousness and that’s why they crashed so far into the hills.”

He walked up closer behind her, but his arms were still crossed defensively. Something in his eyes was telling her that Harm wasn’t fully dealing with this on a personal level. He was reporting details as though he were talking about a case. In fact, she’d seen more emotion from him on some of his cases.

The only response she could think of was confusion, exasperation, and near disbelief. “Harm this isn’t John Wayne or…or Hopalong Cassidy. This is the twenty-first century. Rustlers is the best they can come up with?”

“Hopalong Cassidy, Mac?” he took the odd turn and distracted the conversation. She’d discovered by now that Harm needed time to deal with heavy issues. It had been a quick lesson, but she recognized the tactic and let him go.

“Yeah…you know…the old TV show.” She didn’t care to delve into her personal past, but if it helped him sort his thoughts, she’d go along.

“How do you know about Hopalong Cassidy, Mac?”

“I…well…when I…a friend used to let me come over and watch TV with him when I was a kid. They had cable, we didn’t. We used to get together and watch all the old westerns on a special channel they had. They were on for a couple of hours every afternoon after school,” she admitted sheepishly.

“I guess that accounts for the cowboy pj’s,” he watched a blush lightly color her cheeks. “I always wondered where that came from. Were they your hero’s, Mac?” he asked gently.

“Sort of,” she shrugged. “You know white hats, mighty steeds, fighting for right, virtually indestructible hero, all that.”

He gave a small, self-deprecating snort. “Well I have a white hat, but I’m not sure about the hero part. And Billy won’t even let me near the mighty steeds on the ranch,” he referred, defensively, to his riding lesson that afternoon.

She held his eyes in the mirror wondering about the body language of this conversation. “You have it all, Harm, and if a fighter jet isn’t a mighty steed I don’t know what is. You’ve always been my hero,” she admitted, a slight mist filming her eyes.

He looked surprised then colored slightly. “Really?” he asked, somehow uncharacteristically, needing the reassurance.

“Really. Shall I list the reasons? All the instances and exploits over the years,” she challenged him lightly.

“No,” he shook his head still embarrassed but pleased. “No, but thank you. It means a lot coming from you,” he admitted. “You’ve always sort of been my hero too, although I never actually gave you a category or alter ego. It was always just you.”

“Maybe a pedestal is a hard place to start a real relationship from,” she ventured

“Maybe so, maybe that was it,” he shrugged.

“Maybe that’s why it worked this time. We didn’t have time to get back into all that,” she suggested, reaching for the bottom of her t-shirt. She’d been about to shower when he walked in.

“That could be. Whatever the reason I’m glad we got it right this time,” his suddenly shaky voice told her. Stepping into her space, he helped her pull the shirt over her head.

“Me too.” She reached behind her to undo her bra and found his fingers already on the clasp. Meeting his eyes in the mirror, she saw a need different from their previous private moments. She felt the garment loosen, the straps fall from her shoulders, and his hands slide beneath her arms replacing the fabric covering her breasts. She leaned back against his broad chest and sighed as his lips came down on her shoulder.

In only seconds his grasp became tighter, his embrace rougher, his mouth on her skin more demanding. He pulled her around in his arms capturing her lips, then turned their bodies as one, and backed her the few steps against the wall of the small bathroom. Pressing into her, his entire frame tensed with a different kind of longing. His fingers jerked at the buttons on her Levi’s, and his hands slipped inside squeezing her rounded bottom, pulling her into him. He wouldn’t hurt her, she knew that, but she was puzzled by this sudden desperate hunger. She accepted his kisses and returned his urgency, knowing this wasn’t an ordinary passion causing him to thrust against her.

Though his movements seemed more distressed than angry, she slid her hands up his chest pushing slightly, pulling out of the kiss, and searching his face. There was hollowness there, almost an emptiness. Fear, despair, and loss fought for dominance in his soft green eyes, turning them barren and distant.

“Mac, please,” he whispered harshly. “I can’t…I can’t lose you too.”

His hands were steel on her as she searched for the answer, then suddenly she knew. “It just hit you didn’t it?”

He could only nod. He looked as though he was about to break.

“Oh, Harm,” she murmured soothingly, and pulled him tightly against her. He fell into her embrace, scooping her into his arms. Their showers forgotten for the moment, he made swift strides to the bed taking her down and pulling her against him.

“It’s okay…it’s okay,” she whispered over and over as his body tried to merge with hers through clothing and skin, as his lips devoured hers seeking to assure himself she was real, and alive, and here with him.

“Please,” he gasped again.

“Harm, it’s okay…I won’t ever go anywhere…it’s okay.” She kissed him again, then again, pulling him tighter, wrapping herself around him, answering his distress, until finally she felt the tears spill from his eyes, wetting her shoulder, and she felt the sobs wrack his body. He’d held it so long, been so strong for everyone, and now it was his turn.

“I…can’t…lose you,” he struggled for each trembling breath, pulling her closer, holding even tighter if that was possible.

“Never, Harm. You’ll never lose me.” The phrase finally took its true meaning.

Slowly, after long minutes, the tremors stilled, his desperation subsided, replaced by a softer need and a deeper desire. Gently they pushed away the remnants of their clothing until nothing was left but their skin. Softly and carefully, he loved her as though she was the most precious thing on earth. She drained him of his anguish and desolation, as he poured his hurt and sorrow into her, entrusting her with his soul and his sanity.

It was an awesome responsibility to have the care of another person’s heart. He had hers as well, but the time had not come yet to entrust him with her inner demons. His need was now, hers would follow later. This fear of loss may have always been at the center of Harm’s uncertainties. He’d lost his father as a young boy. Other losses had followed certainly, friends, buddies.

Now his aunt and uncle were suddenly gone, and by a violent hand that would still threaten all he held dear. There was fear for Frank’s health as well, and in a not too distant past, he’d thought he’d lost her. She wasn’t certain which level, which time of Harm’s life she was comforting, perhaps all of them. This may have been simply the final straw that brought all of his losses to the forefront. No single doubt shadowed her mind that he would rise stronger for the fact he’d opened himself to her, and allowed her to share this moment of need.

For more than an hour, they lay tangled together in a tight ball, giving and taking the comfort of loving, physical contact, until the night chill raised a shower of tiny goose bumps on their damp bodies. Then together they rose, showered, and burrowed beneath the deep covers to sleep away the anguish and exhaustion in each other’s arms. Another wall had been breached, another pillar forged to support their evolving love.


Friday Morning


Harm’s head jerked restlessly, and his hand moved to shelter his sleep-swollen eyes as a bright shaft of sunlight slipped over the windowsill, pierced the curtains, and slammed into his face.

His body rolled, seeking the comfort of his wife. She’d been there for him all night. He’d awakened several times to find quiet tears streaming down his face. She merely snuggled closer, and held him tighter, until he returned to his restless sleep.

But now he found her side of the bed empty and the sheets cold. Had he upset her last night? His response to all this had initially been rough, but she’d seemed to understand. He thought he’d made it up to her. She said she’d never leave him. Why then was she gone?

Of all the things about being married to Mac he would forever hate it would be waking up to find her not there. Yet he knew as long as they were active military there was no way to guarantee it wouldn’t happen repeatedly. Was he being at all reasonable?

Rolling to a sitting position, he watched his shadow crawl down the wall and realized why she was gone. The morning was late it must be 0800 or later. Their world stirred at 0530 on the ranch. She must have risen to protect the sleep she knew he needed.

He stumbled to the bathroom and sloshed huge amounts of cold water over his face. Overall, he had to admit he felt better, stronger, for allowing her to share his burden. He had to find out now if it had been too heavy of a burden to lay on her so soon in their relationship. He studied his eyes in the mirror, honestly asking himself that question, and came up with a resounding no.

If their roles were reversed, he would have given her what she needed. He could credit Mac’s love with no less. They had felt the power of their reconnection with that first look on the flight line. Whether others thought this was too fast or not, they were both certain in the deepest part of their hearts, there could be no other option. That they would be together forever, and be there for each other through anything life put in their path.

He wouldn’t underestimate her love, and he prayed she would never have reason to underestimate his.

Pulling on his jeans, he buttoned the fly, slipped into socks and boots, and pulled a fresh t-shirt over his head. He opened the bedroom door while in the act of dragging a flannel shirt over his muscled arms, and rolled up the sleeves as he descended the stairs.

She couldn’t have gone far. He would find a way to thank her, but first he had to find her.

End of nine

Big Blue Sky
Part Ten

Brookes Ranch
Western Montana
0815 Friday

He heard the soft unusual sounds when he reached the bottom of the stairs. They were coming from the room to the rear of the house behind the kitchen. It was a general-purpose room, actually once a porch, then later screened in, and finally finished as a family room. Most activities took place here rather than in the more formal living room in the front.

He poured two cups of coffee from the pot that was gurgling the end of its brewing cycle. Someone must have finished off the breakfast coffee and started a new one. The only person he knew that might make use of that much caffeine was his Marine, and judging from the aroma, she was the one who had brewed it. Note to self, only pour half a cup, and finish it off with milk.

Walking towards the doorway, he saw she was deeply engrossed in her task. He didn’t want to startle her, but the slight movement of her head gave him reason to believe she was aware of his presence. He sat the cup near her and surveyed the table. It was covered with various types of firearms. Several obviously belonged to the ranch, but there was a very special looking rifle laying to one side.

It had just been cleaned, and she was starting on another.

“Thanks,” she said softly as the cup clunked gently against the table.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Sure,” she flashed him a small distracted smile. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “All but the last,” he added ruefully.

“What do you mean?” she looked up.

“You weren’t there when I woke up. I don’t think I’m ever going to like that.”

“Oh Harm, I was trying…”

“I know, Mac, and I appreciate it. I appreciate your help last night, too.” He glanced sideways, and saw her duck her head in acknowledgment. They were okay he decided. “You should have awakened me though. I was supposed to help the kids clean the stables this morning.”

“No way, sailor. You needed to sleep it out. The extra treat of shoveling manure can wait another day,” she grinned at him. “Billy came looking for you, but I made a vague excuse and he accepted it. He did say that Joe would be back this afternoon to check on the bull. I don’t think he dares return until Shaun gets home from school though.” Her eyes twinkled.

Once Shaun had won his point, he’d taken full charge of the task of making the bull healthy once again. If belief in the Native American methods held any sway over medical science, he would succeed on sheer will alone. In that, Harm decided, he was very much like his Aunt Trish.

He surveyed the table then picked up the custom-made rifle. He knew by looking at it this must be the one that came from the ebony case, but if he’d had any doubt, the nearly imperceptible stiffening of her frame as he touched the weapon told him all he needed to know.

“I won’t break it, Mac, but if you’d rather…”

“No, it’s okay, Harm. Sorry,” she tucked her head more closely over the weapon she was cleaning. Stepping to the window, he checked the gun to assure himself it was not loaded. Bringing it to his eye, he looked through the expensive scope, sighting at the unoccupied hills in the distance.

“Whoa, this is quite a rifle, Marine. It has terrific balance and that scope is fantastic.”

“It’s custom made,” she stated the obvious, but volunteered no more.

“I see,” he replied, setting it carefully back on the paper that protected the table top. The fact she was cleaning the guns was telling him something. None of the weapons looked like they’d been neglected. Quite the contrary, even a couple of very old rifles and an antique shotgun looked in top shape.

“He used it in competition,” she offered cryptically.

“Was he good?”

“Very. I saw the scrapbook his mother brought.”

Harm nodded. He wouldn’t ask for more than she wanted to share.

“He had just been assigned to the SWAT team in his hometown. Then his guard unit was called up. He was so young Harm.” Her voice quivered slightly.

He gave her a moment to recover.

“He was only twenty-three…a degree in criminal justice…he wanted to be a good cop…make a difference.”

“And now he can’t.” He tried to make it a statement. Not demand any information.

She shook her head. “His shoulder was shattered. They repaired it…he can function normally, but he’ll never fire a weapon again.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Why this one, Mac,” he asked softly.

Her eyes came slowly to meet his. “You mean because there were sixteen others?”

He nodded again.

She shrugged. “Some were killed outright, a few weren’t injured at all, most were wounded too badly to fight back,” she shrugged as her voice slid away.

“You were wounded Mac, and so was he. You fought back.”

“We couldn’t give up, Harm. I mean we had to do something. God knows what they would have done to us if we’d stopped fighting. They wanted that truck,” she remarked needlessly.

“I know,” he responded with his signature reply. “You were in a bad situation, you did what you had to do. In a few more minutes…” he stopped. He’d said too much. He could hope she hadn’t caught it, but then he looked into her eyes and they both knew.

“It was you, wasn’t it?”

“Mac, I…I’m sorry.”

“For what, Harm?” she asked gently. She knew that he couldn’t mean he was sorry for saving her. She wasn’t even going there.

“For…I don’t know…I mean I’m glad we were there…so close.”

“So am I, Harm. I hoped it was you, even knowing the chances were virtually non-existent,” she admitted.

“Why? I mean why me? We didn’t exactly part on the same page, and well, there are plenty of flyers in that part of the world.”

“Remember that night we spent in the desert?”

“You mean when…”

“Yeah, that one. My first thought when I saw those planes coming was that we were all going to be blown to hell without any help from the other side,” she smirked.

“We aren’t all that bad, Mackenzie,” he chided.

“Well, I knew you weren’t, and somehow I prayed in those few seconds it would be you, all the while knowing it was an impossible wish. I don’t know how you got there so fast, or how you found us, but I held my breath and prayed hard. Somehow, afterwards, I never quite believed anyone but you could have made that shot.

“There were four of us, Mac,” he reminded her.

“And you trained all of them, didn’t you?”

Silently he nodded studying her reaction with his wide aqua eyes.

“Two of them missed,” she challenged.

“No one missed, Mac.”

“Their bombs fell a mile down the road,” was her objection.

“When my wingman and I rolled out of our dive to check the terrain we saw another group crossing over to get behind you. I sent the other two after them.”

“Rolled out…there were more?” she verified. She’d never before realized that roll had an actual purpose.

He only nodded.

“I knew they were trying to spread out to breach our cover, but I didn’t know…we didn’t have a prayer did we Harm?”

“Sure you did, Mac,” he smiled quietly in an attempt to comfort her trepidation, “and an AWACS plane answered it.”

“How…how did you get there so fast?”

“We had just finished a shift flying CAP and were heading back to the carrier. When command got your call, we just happened to be about five minutes away. Pure coincidence Mac, nothing more.”

She relaxed a bit, although a new kind of tension seemed to take her in its grip. Even in her deepest wish that the pilot was Harm, she’d never believed he’d come looking for her. She knew whoever those pilots were, it was sheer coincidence they were in the right place at the right time. She’d learned to deal with the fact the intel had been scrambled and they’d been caught unprepared by the ambush, but now to learn it was far worse than she’d ever guessed…it would take time for her to assess this information…to compartmentalize it and work past it.

“You didn’t know,” he guessed.

“About the second unit up the road? No, we had no idea. I guess if we’d somehow made it past the first, we would never have had a chance anyway.”

Harm came to squat down beside her chair. “Look at me Marine, there’s always a chance. As long as you’re alive and you’re fighting, there’s always a chance. You did what you had to do and you did it well. Your friend as well,” he indicated the rifle. “I got hold of the after action report. If the two of you hadn’t fought as you did, no one would have had a chance. Remember Marine, the people who pinned that medal on you knew the entire story, and they don’t give those medals out frivolously.

“Did you know it was me down there, Harm?” She had to ask, unlikely as it was.

“At the time, no. Looking back…I felt something…a need to get this one more perfect than ever. I didn’t know why I felt that way.” He stood and took a few steps rubbing his hand over his sleep-tousled head. “I never allowed my team to do sloppy work. Just a feeling…it was vague. It wasn’t until the next day, back on the ship, that we heard who was down there. When I heard the JAG was a woman, and she fought alongside the men displaying extreme valor, I pulled a few strings and found out it was you.”

“I tried everything I could think of to get a pass to come find you.” He gazed through the window into the distance, remembering those painful, helpless moments, “but the Captain informed me that wasn’t going to happen, and you would be on your way to Germany before I could get there anyway. Within the week we were sailing for Japan. That’s when we had the layover for supplies and were sent back out again.”

“And that’s when you made the thirty-one phone calls?” she glanced at him from under her lashes. Not seductively, but stealthily, to try to see what was passing over his face. His life as he had lived it up until then, had changed because of those calls.

“Yes, I did, and even if I had known then what the outcome would be, I would have still made them, Mac.”

He turned to look at her, telling everything he had suffered when she’d made him go away. It was all there in his eyes. The look in her eyes, the look she returned to him, told him that if she hadn’t been cleansed by that firefight, she could never have come back to him. She had required the fresh start. It had been impossible for her to live her life in a straight line from that day she was released from prison.

They held the gaze for almost too long. Something more needed to be said, but she wasn’t ready for the emotion of more. It wasn’t her time yet. Finally, her eyes dropped back to the handgun she was cleaning. She began polishing it furiously, desperately needing to distract this conversation.

Carefully, he stepped up to her and laid his hand gently over hers. “When you’re ready, Marine,” he said to her then stepped back.

She paused for a moment, he understood, really understood. She wanted very much to share her feelings with him. Not the details, he had the details, but the feelings as each of those events occurred, but she couldn’t, not yet, not now. She wasn’t ready.

Taking a deep breath, he turned away, then back. “So why are you preparing the arsenal Mac?”

He was almost certain he knew the answer. He had deliberately couched his question in light terms, but he needed her to talk to him about this. If it was bothering her on a deep level, he had to know where her head was. There was every possibility they might have to confront the people who had killed his aunt and uncle.

“They’re still out there,” she answered. He had expected that. “They still threaten this ranch, our new family, and us. I can’t allow that,” she told him brusquely.

“Mac, it’s not even likely we’ll see them. The sheriff has a team of special investigators working on this. This isn’t the first ranch they’ve hit. They might not even come back,” he tried to brush aside her concerns.

“They’ll be back, Harm. I feel it. And I’ll be ready for them.”

“Hey now, there’s two of us here. There won’t be any riding out to meet the enemy alone,” he tried to keep it light. He’d almost lost her in a firefight once, he wasn’t at all certain he wanted her near this one of it occurred. But she was having none of it.

“Harm, don’t.” She put the gun down, stood up and looked at him square in the eye. “I’m a good shot, probably better than you,” she declared. “I’m not going looking for trouble, but if it comes looking for me I won’t ‘hide in the parlor with the womenfolk’.” she mimicked a line from an old western movie. “Don’t even think about trying to keep me out of this.” Hands on her hips she nearly breathed fire in defiance of any idea he might have of leaving her behind.

“Okay, okay,” he raised his hands in surrender, then flashed the smile that always melted her heart. “We always did work better as a team. We came through a lot when we had each other’s back. We’ll come through this too, if it happens.” Anyway, if he had her beside him it would be easier to keep an eye on her, and she was right, she was a better shot. There was no doubt in his mind, he couldn’t think of anyone he’d rather have at his back.

She relaxed immediately at his reassurance, and smiled in return. “So, how about some breakfast, sailor?”

“I can make it,” he offered. “You’re busy.”

“I’ll make it, Harm. It’s not a problem.”

“C’mon Mac,” he peeked around the doorway. “Beth isn’t around right now. Let me fix us an omelet. Then we’ll go check on that bull, and see if Billy will let me ride a real horse today,” he bargained.

Her answer was another smile, this one surrendering to his wishes with a deep chuckle.

End of ten

Big Blue Sky
Chapter Eleven

Brookes ranch
Western Montana
9:30 Friday


Right after breakfast, Harm called the funeral home, giving instructions for the service according to the sparse wishes expressed by Beth. A normally strong woman, she simply couldn’t take on the task of planning a third funeral in ten years. Her husband, Ben Brookes, had come in from feeding the cattle one evening ten years ago, and dropped dead on the porch. Joan’s older brother Rod, had died in a far off desert less than a year later, after returning to duty following his fathers’ funeral. Now she’d not only lost her daughter, but her beloved son-in-law whom she saw as the family rock.

She was accepting Harm, but warily. He had the distinct idea if he wasn’t able to resign his commission soon he would have two teenagers living with him in Seattle, and Beth would be in a rest home somewhere. There was no indication she wouldn’t recover her strength, but she needed time, and she couldn’t take much more stress.

Harm returned to the family room to find Mac. She had completed her morning task and replaced the weapons in the gun safe. He approached with as much of a smile as the circumstances would permit.

“I called Mom,” he announced.

“How’s Frank?” was Mac’s immediate concern.

“He’s doing fine, but they won’t be able to travel. He wants Mom to fly up alone, but she’s torn. She doesn’t want to leave him.”

“That’s understandable,” Mac agreed.

“Yeah. I told her she should stay with him. We’d represent the family,” he comforted, pulling her into a gentle hug. “She is sending the flowers though.”

“That’s nice.” Mac’s voice was somewhat muffled against his chest.

“All the flowers,” Harm corrected.

“All??”

“Uh huh. She said it was the least she could do. I told her that Beth had asked for yellow roses and white snapdragons, and she said her florist would have them on a plane this afternoon. She uses him for every opening at the gallery, has for years. I guess he appreciates her business,” Harm’s mouth quirked ruefully with his words.

“I can imagine,” Mac gave a soft smile in return. “That’s very generous of her.”

“She feels bad she can’t come. It made her feel better to do this. So, I accepted graciously and told her to take care of Frank. We can hold a small memorial or something when they’re able to get up here.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Mac agreed.

They stood comforting each other for another minute or two, then with a deep sigh Harm suggested, “Shall we go find Billy and see what he has in store for me today?”

“I’d like that,” she agreed with a bit of tease in her voice.

They walked across the yard and down the slope of the valley to the bull pens, but Billy couldn’t be found. Aron came out of one of the pastures and greeted them warmly. “Captain, Colonel, what can I do for you?”

A large man with a friendly demeanor and a strong back, Aron was perfectly capable of performing any task he was given. Though, except for routine chores, he simply didn’t possess the capacity to figure out what that next task should be.

“We were looking for Billy,” Harm answered. “He wants to give me another riding lesson.”

“Well, I don’t know,” Aron thought hard, scratching his head, then replacing his hat. “I think he said something about rounding up some help with the cattle for Monday. He could be up at his house, or he might be in the office in the barn.”

“We’ll take a look. Thanks, Aron.” Harm and Mac turned as one and headed back to the barn.

Billy wasn’t in the office and they decided not to bother him at his house. Harm glanced toward the pasture that held the ranch horses, and a devilish gleam twinkled in his eyes.

“What do you say we go for a ride?”

“Where?”

“Anywhere,” he shrugged. “We’ve hardly seen any of the ranch.”

“I thought you had an appointment with Billy,” she cautioned, narrowing her eyes.

“I do, but he’s obviously busy. We’ll catch him later.” The adventurous little boy in Harm was operating on full engines.

“Harm, if you ride all morning, then Billy puts you through your paces later, your gonna be one sore cowboy tonight.”

“Well, then,” he took her arm, pulled her close, and whispered suggestively, “I guess you’ll just have to give me a massage.”

“You’re a devil, you know,” she punctuated her words with a soft swat on the arm.

“I know, and I know something else, too.”

“What’s that?”

“You love me for it.”

She stopped and looked up into his mischievous eyes. “You’re right about that, flyboy.”

“Let’s go. I see a horse out there I’m just itching to ride,” he indicated a gorgeous gaited palomino moving gracefully across the pasture.

“I don’t know, Harm, he looks like a handful,” she answered warily.

“C’mon, Mac. I’m a better rider than either you or Billy give me credit for.” Grabbing a couple halters from inside the tack room, he turned towards the pasture, leaving Mac to catch up.

“Besides, I want to check out the ranch. We haven’t been out much, if I’m going to run this place I need to know where stuff is,” he explained as she hurried to catch his long legged stride.

They spent about two hours roaming between the various pastures. The valley portion of the ranch had been cross-fenced, with tracks in between the grazing areas wide enough for farm equipment to pass.

One large pasture was obviously the nursery holding the cows with their young offspring. On the opposite side, they found the currently pregnant cows that would produce next year’s crop. A third pasture farther out held heifers that were in their resting cycle, and those too young to breed, but were being reserved to add to the ranches stock. The steers from this same yield were the ones that remained in the hills. They needed to be brought down, quickly as winter was fast approaching. The cattle for this year’s market had been rounded up and shipped much earlier in the fall.

They’d ridden across the narrow waist of the valley discovering the layout of things then up and down its length before riding back into the yard. Leading their horses into the barn, they found Billy with two other horses, haltered and tied to a post. He was half finished saddling one.

“Better put up that showpiece and get your mount saddled, Captain. If you’re going to participate in the roundup as anything but a spectator you have to know how to ride one of these cutting horses.”

“Why won’t this one work?” Harm asked. He was rather fond of the image he had of himself mounted on the tall, showy, golden, gelding.

“Real purty horse, but Nugget’s not much good for anything ‘cept parades,” Billy scoffed. “Ben used to ride in a drill team. He had another horse that he took to parades and rodeos, but it was getting too old to work. He was starting that one when his heart gave out. Beth wouldn’t let us sell him. Shaun and I finished him, and he rides him some, but that one’s not a cutting horse. Doesn’t have a drop of workin’ blood in his body, even though he came from the same stallion as that little paint of Sam’s,” Billy finished the detailed explanation for no particular reason.

“Now that little grey quarab mare the Colonel is riding is a heck of a cutting horse, but she’s too short for you. This one here will work better.” He pointed to a well muscled, broad-chested, sixteen hand tall, deep red sorrel gelding that stood quietly tethered to a post. “He’s tall enough, but he has the moves for cutting cattle.”

Harm didn’t quite understand, but he was eager to learn. He quickly did as he was instructed, brushed Nugget out, and led him back to the pasture.

When he returned, Mac had brought an appropriate saddle from the tack room, a different style from the one they’d used for their morning ride. Harm groaned inwardly at more time in the saddle, but knew it was his duty to learn as much as he could as quickly as possible, and it had been his idea. With the thought of Mac’s earlier promise, a secret smile slipped across his face. Giving his back a cursory rub, he followed Billy out of the barn into the large arena.

Climbing only a little stiffly into the saddle he turned to his mentor, “What do I do now?”

“Not much,” Billy sniffed. “It’s sorta like a dogfight from the back seat of one of your jets, only lower to the ground. Where’d you two get yourselves off to anyway?”

“We couldn’t find you, and no one knew where you were, so we rode out to investigate,” Harm smiled disarmingly.

“Sorry about that, Captain. I should have let you know. I was up at the house phoning around. We need a few extra hands for Monday. We’ve left those steers up there too long as it is, and weather’s turning, they’re predicting a storm by Wednesday. Those cattle have to come down now.”

Harm nodded his agreement to the plan only because it sounded logical. He was still learning and would save his questions for later.

When Harm had settled comfortably in the saddle, Billy adjusted his stirrups properly, then took him and his mount through a half an hour of exercises. He demonstrated the moves the horse would make while working.

“Hang on, Captain.” Billy had only time to warn him, before Aron let five calves out of a gate at the far end of the ring. Needing no cue, Rusty took off after them, penning them at one end of the enclosure.

Giving Harm a little time to get used to the quick movements his horse was making, Billy showed him how to head the horse to a selected steer, and then stay out of its business.

“A good cutting horse knows what to do, Captain,” Billy instructed. “Once he‘s been given his target, leave him alone and just stay with him. He’ll do the rest.”

By the time they were finished, Billy pulled a broad grin and pronounced, “You’re not quite ready to rodeo, but good enough to be useful. At least I won’t have to make you ride drag.” Laughing at his own joke, he turned his mount over to Harm and Mac and excused himself to go make some more phone calls. He still had to line up two more hands for Monday’s roundup.

Harm and Mac brushed the horses, and while he led them out to the pasture where the other ranch horses spent their days, Mac finished wiping down the saddles and headstalls. It had been a good ride, and Harm felt more confident than ever he could become a useful addition to a whole new way of life. He returned to the barn just as Mac carried the last saddle to its rack and pushed at the tack room door.

A glint of mischief lit his eye, and he made his move.

“Harm, what are you doing?” Mac protested, more curious than alarmed.

He scooped her around the waist and pulled her between the haystacks, pushing her back against the high stacked bales.

“I remember something someone once said about a roll in the hay.” He smiled suggestively, then brought his lips firmly down on hers, leaning full against her with his hard body. He supported himself with his hands placed against the baled grass at each of her shoulders.

“Harm we can’t, not here, not now,” she protested weakly, as his lips retreated.

“I know,” he accepted, then raised an expressive eyebrow. “In the first place, this stuff isn’t as soft as it’s rumored to be.” He lifted one hand and examined the sharp indentations in his palm.

“Of course we could always…” he demonstrated, wrapping his hands around her waist and turning her so his back was to the hay. “There that’s better for you,” he whispered nibbling her ear and returning to her mouth for another kiss. She melted against him wondering what had gotten into her sailor. In all the years she’d known him he’d been practically ascetic on the subject of PDA, and now he was compensating wildly.

“Uh, Harm,” she didn’t want to discourage his attentions, but there were so many things to consider here.

“I know, Mac,” he replied, his forehead touching hers. “But it seemed like fun to just act like teenagers for a minute when no one was looking.” His smile was sheepish, almost embarrassed for the notion.

“It’s not such a bad idea, cowboy. After all, the kids are still in school, and I doubt most of the ranch hands spend much time in the haystack.” Stepping back, she moved sideways so they were behind the tons of baled grass.

“There now, no one can see us, even if they come into the barn,” she smiled, moving her body close against him.

“I like the way you think, ma’am,” he replied giving it a broad western twang and recapturing her mouth yet again.

This time his hands roamed her back, seeking the comfort and closeness of touch, dipping just below her beltline, but not too far. He brought them back up her sides just missing the edges of her breasts before wrapping her again in his deep embrace. He was fairly certain most teenagers got away with much more on a casual date than he was doing with his own wife, but a lot of those kids had no respect for each other and he would never compromise Mac. He cared for her too much. On the other hand stealing a kiss when no one was looking was sort of fun.

Dimly, he heard a voice from somewhere outside.

“Captain, Colonel, you in there? Joe will be here in about forty-five minutes. Captain? Now where the devil did they go, dammit, they left the tack room door open,” Billy muttered as he shut the door firmly and threw the bolt.

They heard his footsteps recede, and looked at each other with a combination of light guilt and impishness. Harm was the first to speak.

“Busted,” he ventured.

“Yep,” she agreed.

“This would have been more fun than tending a wounded bull,” he remarked ruefully.

“No doubt.”

“Duty calls,” he heaved a deep breath. Kissing her once more for good measure, he took her hand as they slipped quietly from behind the haystack.

They just had time to get to the kitchen for half a sandwich and a glass of tea before they saw Joe’s truck pull into the yard. Looking out the kitchen window, he saw Shaun race across the yard toward the bull pens.

“Let’s go,” he nodded, and cocked an eye at Mac

“Right behind you,” she replied.

“I think this is going to be a lot harder than being a fighter jock, Mac.” Harm chuckled uncomfortably as they walked across the yard and down to the bull pens. His gait was somewhat altered by the stiffening muscles in his back and legs.


Later that evening

Harm was sipping a cup of coffee, his foot propped on the wooden seat beneath the front window next to the old fireplace, when he saw the truck pull into the yard. Behind him, Shaun was reciting to his grandmother and sister the events of that afternoon.

“And Joe says he’ll make a full recovery, Gramma,” the young man declared proudly. “Another week or so and we might have lost that bull, but we caught it just in time. I can’t wait to get to college and start testing some of these remedies, to see just how they react with the damaged and diseased tissue,” he referred to his lifelong desire to attend a top class veterinary school.

“A lot of people think it’s just believing hard,” Billy offered. “That the animal would have mended on his own in time.”

“You know that’s not true in this case, sir,” Shaun objected. His tone was respectful but firm. This success had given him confidence in his beliefs. “The vet had done everything he could. He was recommending we put that bull down. Now it’s on its way to good health again. Believing may work on humans, but I can’t see how it would work on cattle.”

“Now, Shaun…,” Beth remonstrated.

“Someone’s coming,” Harm remarked. Putting down his cup, he shoved off the stone wall, heading for the door. Billy was one step behind him. Mac, due to where she’d been seated in the room, was one step behind Billy. Beth and the children stayed where they were, confident whoever it was would be invited in.

The man at the door wore the uniform of the County Sheriff. Tom Borden had been one of the volunteer guests at Harm and Mac’s impromptu wedding, and he hated bringing bad news to this family so soon, but they needed to be warned.

“Come in, Sheriff,” Harm held out his hand.

“Well, I don’t know,” he cautioned. Looking warily through to the living room, he was uncertain of the effect of his information on Beth. Everyone who knew her was aware of her suddenly withdrawn, almost fragile demeanor, since the loss of Charlie and Joan.

“Come on in, Tom,” she called with a welcoming wave. “It’s going to worry me more to wonder, than to hear what you have to say.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he obeyed, stepping inside as Harm and Billy stepped back and returned to their places.

“Have a seat, would you like a cup of coffee?” she inquired graciously in spite of her concern.’

“Yes, ma’am, I would. That would go down real nice. It’s getting cold out there, and I have a few more calls to make.”

“Fine. Sam, go get the sheriff some coffee, you know how he likes it,” she instructed her granddaughter. “Then both of you scoot upstairs and do your homework.”

Her instructions were followed, but not without the attendant grumblings and groaning that order always elicited from teenagers. “Go on, now,” Beth reiterated. “If it’s anything you need to know, I’ll tell you at breakfast.”

Once she heard their doors close upstairs, she turned back to the sheriff, “What is it Tom?” She stiffened preparing for bad news. Her instincts told her this wasn’t a social call.

“It’s the Parsons. They got hit today.” He gave the news straight and clean.

“Dead?” She went white.

“No! No, nothing like that. Sorry, Beth, I should have thought before speaking,” Tom Borden apologized. “But they got hit for twenty-five head.”

“Good grief, that’s half their crop,” Beth exclaimed.

“Twenty-five head?” Harm asked automatically. A year’s crop for this ranch was between four and five thousand animals.

“Boutique farming, they call it,” Billy explained pronouncing the word ‘bootik’. “Their herds are smaller, but they grow them organically. Everything goes to a high-end specialty market of exclusive restaurants and expensive stores. They make about twenty-five to thirty percent more per head than average.

“Organic?” Harm questioned. “Organic beef?” It was something he’d never heard of. But then, he’d never been that fond of beef. What had been served since he’d been here the last few days was better than any beef he’d ever had except in that ‘place’ in Japan.

“Sure. You’ve heard of organic fruit and vegetables, organic milk products.”

“Yes, I have, but…”

“Well these people raise their cattle the same way, no chemical supplements or steroids, no pesticides on their food supply. Some of them even raise their own feed to ensure their product is pure. Matter of fact almost anything that comes from any farm in the US is being raised organically by someone, fish too, if they’re farm raised. Some people are willing to pay more for it, but it’s also more work for the farmers and ranchers. In the end they don’t clear a lot more money, but for some it’s worth the effort,” he shrugged expressively.

“What about us?” was Harms next question.

“Don’t know, maybe we could be certified if we wanted to look into it. It’s on Shaun’s mind,” he allowed. “We’re kinda unique. We have the best pasture around these parts, and enough of it to raise our own feed and graze the cattle all summer. Ben’s great-great-grandfather got here first, and staked out his claim on the best land. When the cattle out grew the land, he acquired more. He fought some nasty range wars to hold the ranch, and bought out everyone who wanted to sell, but in the end he left a large, stable, operation behind.”

“I see,” Harm mused, then suddenly switched subjects. “But the Parsons weren’t hurt?” he turned back to the sheriff. There were more important issues before them than his continuing education in the cattle industry. However, he filed the information away for another time.

“No, thank God,” the sheriff exclaimed. “But I thought you should know. I hear you still have that herd in the upper pasture. Just thought I’d warn you.”

“Sheriff, tell them we’ll help,” Beth leaned forward placing her hand on the peace officer’s arm.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He knew she was referring to the old-time ranchers’ way of looking out for each other whenever something bad happened. People had flocked to help her when Ben died, before Joan and Charlie could get here, and again when her son Rod was killed. Now they’d done it again until the Captain and the Colonel showed up. Mostly, in Beth’s case, it had been emotional support and some chores, rather than financial aid, but the Brooks’ had always been first to step up when tragedy befell anyone else. Once again, Beth was leading the way.

“Absolutely,” Harm parroted Beth’s sentiments, as they rose with the sheriff to walk him back to the door. This time only Billy and Harm accompanied him. Harm out of courtesy, and Billy because he had a sneaking suspicion that was soon satisfied.

Sheriff Borden turned at the door his hat in his hand.

“Your ears only, gentlemen,” he spoke low. “I have word they will hit you soon. Watch out,” he warned.

Before Harm or Billy could question him further, he placed his hat squarely on his head, and stepped through the door heading for his truck.

End of eleven

“Mount up, Annie Oakley,” Harm smiled at Mac, motioning her into the plane when Shaun finished his explanation. She had already brought the rifles from the car, stowing them behind the seats, while they’d gone through the piloting technicalities.

“Right there with you, Wild Bill,” she replied with a grin, climbing into her side of the cockpit.

Shaun’s face registered his uncertainty with their gallows humor.

“We’ll be okay,” Harm reassured the young man with a solid hand on his shoulder. “Get back to your grandmother and sister. The sheriff will be there shortly and we’ll all be home soon.” Harm smiled as if he actually believed this, and as a result, Shaun almost believed it too.

Harm fired the engine on the plane then watched as Shaun turned the car and pulled it away from the hangar entrance. Taxiing to the runway, he checked the windsock. Good, the wind was from the west. He could take off, make his loop, fly over the herd, and turn back to land from the east just as they’d planned. It should work perfectly.

Once he was airborne, he headed west for several miles before making a wide turn. He set his course to look as though he were heading for the small local airport southeast of the ranch, then flew high over the valley, gently losing altitude as though in a landing pattern.

Everything was nearly exactly as Shaun had suggested. The large truck was nosed into the lower part of the valley. A dual cab pickup with a four-horse trailer and a standard pickup with another two-horse trailer were parked nearby. Harm could just see the top of the ranch truck with its attached trailer pulled into a steep tree-lined draw northwest of the meadow.

“If those trucks were full when they arrived, they could have a dozen men and six horses down there,” Harm observed. He concentrated on keeping the plane on its disinterested course. It was imperative the men didn’t suspect the reason for their presence.

“I only see seven men and four horses but the others might be in the trees looking for strays,” she suggested, staring intently out the window.

“Maybe,” Harm agreed. “But Shaun didn’t really think they’d go that far,” he reminded her. “He was pretty sure they would just take what was easy to catch. It sounds reasonable.”

“Perhaps,” she mused. “But if they can’t take them all, then I think they’d want to take the best they could find. It may be taking a bit of work to cut the best from the herd.”

“Mmmm,” was his noncommittal reply. He doubted she was any more convinced of that than he was. It was unlikely those men had brought only four horses, it was very likely there were sentries posted somewhere. They would have to be alert for an ambush.

He flew out several more miles over the eastern hills before circling back and setting the plane down in the pre-designated field. They climbed from the plane cautiously, listening closely to their surroundings. After a moment or two of stillness, the few remaining birds in the forest resumed their calls. Nothing was moving. It was mid-afternoon and the shadows were deepening. In another hour it would be dusk, darkness would fall soon after. They didn’t have much time to get into position.

Mac pulled the small notepad from her pack and consulted her drawing and its indecipherable symbols. It apparently meant something, but only to her. She wanted to get her bearings before they started. There was something she had noticed on the map in the hangar. Pointing ahead and slightly to their right she indicated the place where she thought they should enter the forest.

Moving warily, they quickly headed for the tree line and the ridge that would place them above the rustlers. It wasn’t easy to move silently through the forest. There were a lot of downed branches, but they picked their way as carefully as possible stepping from one large rock to another wherever they could.

Reaching the edge of the upper tree line, they could see the high pasture as it gently climbed the slope and wandered away among smaller hills. Below and to the left was a corner of the truck just visible over the ledge. Dropping to their bellies, they crawled crab-like on knees and elbows to the edge of the escarpment.

She had chosen this spot because the huge piece of rock offered more protection than the open forest. Looking over the edge they could see the land slant away sharply below them. It looked as though at some point in the recent past erosion had caused a catastrophic slide of dirt and trees resulting in the exposure of the massive granite shelf.

It wasn’t a straight drop to the valley floor but it was steep. A man could pick his way down carefully but a slip would send him tumbling dangerously into the pile of rocks and rotted tree trunks below. For a horse and rider, the route would be suicide. Half a mile away the truck sat silently accepting its load of bawling steers. Two men on horseback were cutting their choice from the nearby herd. Another on horseback stood by to control runaways, as two men on foot used cattle prods to load the animals into the truck. A mounted rider waited beside one of the pickups undoubtedly supervising, and the last man sat on the hood of the same truck.

“I don’t see anyone else,” she offered in the barest whisper.

“Doesn’t mean they aren’t there somewhere,” Harm returned.

“Hmmm,” she agreed. “What now?”

“Too many for us to take.”

“We could shoot them,” she suggested, only half-serious.

“Can’t.”

“They’re rustlers, you can shoot rustlers,” she protested. Her shrug played the word game, withholding the smile that teased her lips. After all this was serious.

“Nope, you can hang rustlers, but you can’t shoot ‘em, and that’s only in Texas, this is Montana.” His reply was given as though reciting from the cowboy manual.

“What’s the difference?” she insisted looking at him oddly.

“Texas was a country before it joined the union. They do things different in Texas.” He allowed the barest smile to tickle his right dimple.

“How do you know that?” she challenged.

“XO on the carrier. Never failed to have a ‘Texas’ story whenever he had an audience,” he flashed a quick grin.

She smiled back. The interchange had released a little bit of their tension.

“I guess we just watch them?”

“Yeah, for now. The sheriff should be here soon.”

He would have been happier taking action but they were sorely outnumbered and they didn’t know where everyone was. He still had a feeling at least two of them were out there somewhere in the trees. He was equally certain Mac felt the same way. He could sense it in her tension.

“What if they try to leave?”

“Then, my dear, we shoot out their tires,” Harm smiled and turned towards her. “What do you say we take cover and watch each others backs? I’m not convinced there aren’t a few more of them.”

“Good idea, I think you’re right. Too bad though, it would have been fun taking them down.”

Harm knew the harsh comment was meant as more tension release. Like him, Mac would take necessary action when needed, but she’d never shoot first.

She looked around assessing their location. It was just as she’d imagined from the topo map. The rock ledge where they lay formed a shelf on the south-southeast rim of the bowl. Farther up on the east and northeast side the wall fading softly into the hills was covered by trees. To their left the ledge came to an abrupt halt where a huge slab of granite held back the remainder of the tree-covered hillside. The ridge continued south of the cattle truck where it ended abruptly spilling through what was currently a dry wash. The rocky streambed and narrow path eventually came out in the valley below, near their plane.

In the spring, each meadow would turn first into a shallow lake then to rich grassland. As the snow receded over the spring and summer, it would bring plenty of new grazing land for the cattle until the cycle completed itself with the snowfall next winter.

A gate across the opening to the valley kept the cattle up here until they were ready to be moved down to the ranch. On Monday morning, they would travel through three descending valleys until they came out onto the wide flat plain occupied by the main ranch.

The path had taken Aron about two hours to negotiate, but it would take the cattle two days. It was dangerously narrow and they had to keep the progress slow. If anything caused the herd to run, they’d lose them in the dry streambed.

“There,” she pointed to her right about ten feet away, and then turned to her left pointing about twenty feet. To the north side was a rock nearly the size of a pickup surrounded by several smaller ones. To the south stood slabs of granite of various sizes, broken from the larger cliff face. The tumbled stone had been washed clean and smooth over time by rain and melting snow. “Tuck your back against that granite cliff and scoot down between those pylons,” she gestured to the left. “I’ll go over here and find myself a hole beside that boulder. That way we can see each other’s position… oh…and watch out for snakes,” she tossed out casually.

“Snakes!” His eyes became saucers, “Maaac!” His hiss was no more than a whisper.

“Yeah,” her voice deadpan, she shrugged. “Mostly rattlers.”

“Rattlers?” This time he came as close to squeaking as possible for a man with his level of testosterone.

“Relax, Harm, I’m just kidding, they’re all hibernating now anyway.”

“Hibernating? You’re sure?”

“Yeah. Pretty sure,” again her shrug spoke volumes.

“Maaac!”

“Okay, I’m sure, I’m sure. Shaun and I talked about them last week when we were discussing the bull’s progress. Honest, Harm, I was just kidding.”

He looked at her and ‘humphed’ before slowly moving to his cover. However, he did look around carefully before settling himself. As he shifted his gaze to check her position, he saw a small, satisfied smile curve her lips. She’d gotten him back for giving up her decorations to the family. He wasn’t sure why she’d not wanted it known, but it was her business. However, the fact that she’d evened the score by tormenting him instead of becoming angry showed him she understood his reasons for letting the information slip. They would be okay.

They lay in hiding for more than fifteen minutes. Nothing moved but their eyes as they constantly reassessed their surroundings. In a quick flash, it happened.

“Harm!” she cried as a tall brown tanned man with curly red hair mounted the rock over Harm’s prone form. She rolled and swung her rifle around.

“Mac!” Harm’s warning came at the same instant, as he leveled his firearm at a place above her head.

Five shots rang out in quick succession almost too close to count. As the echoes repeated off the hills, Mac heard a sickening thud then another. Craning her neck, she looked over the edge and caught sight of a body tumbling down the rocky face of the hill. The man above Harm had disappeared almost as quickly as he had appeared.

“Mac, look,” Harm warned gesturing towards the valley. His voice sounded strained, but the men below were headed in their direction. She had no time to analyze it.

Quickly she adjusted her rifle to defend their position, but almost instantly, the men turned once again and fled towards the two pickup trucks. In another half minute, Mac realized why. The man who had supervised the loading and the other who had watched for runaways were high tailing it for the dry wash. Climbing the hillside to circumvent the gate they disappeared through the opening. Above them, inside the line of trees, the red haired man mounted his horse and followed.

There was little chance they could overlook the plane parked in the valley below. Very likely, the thieves would realize there were only two of them and return.

“Don’t let them get away, Mac,” Harm ordered. “Shoot the tires.” The two men below them had rushed their horses into the trailer, and the truck was being backed around for an escape.

Once again, Mac drew careful aim, then pulled back as she saw the flashing red and blue lights reflected off the hills to the west where the ranch road came into the valley. The cavalry had arrived and not a moment too soon.

“C’mon, Harm, let’s get down there.” She turned to him just in time to see him wipe his hand over his face and head. The hand came away covered in blood. Another spot of red soaked the arm of his shirt.

“Harm!” she cried. Scrambling to her feet, she hurried to his side.

“I’m okay, Mac. It’s nothing,” he protested, but his voice didn’t sound very convincing.

“Oh, god, Harm! You’re hurt, your head, your arm.” She leaned against him and he winced, “Oh no, your leg too.”

Quickly she peeled off her shirt and stripped off her t-shirt. She reached for the knife sheathed on Harm’s hip, and sliced the garment into strips. First, she bound the wound on his head, as it was bleeding the most, then his upper arm. Finally, she wrapped a piece around his thigh. He would have a scar that would match her own was the stray thought that entered her mind.

As she worked to staunch the flow of blood, a depressive sense of déjà vu overcame her. This is what it had felt like in Iraq, only much worse. A comrade in arms shot down while fighting at her side. Only this time, it was the man she loved, and she could find no way around the fact that she was at least partly responsible for Harm’s injuries.

‘How?’ she tormented herself with the question. She couldn’t find and answer for it. She knew exactly where she’d aimed, but there’d only been five shots. The man above Harm had fired at her. Harm had fired at the man above her. That only left three shots, hers, and two others obviously fired by the man who had stood over her. How had she missed so badly? How could she have fired so wildly that she hit Harm instead of the man she’d aimed at?

Unlike Iraq, there were no Navy fighters to take out hidden attackers, no med-evac choppers to airlift them out of here. Somehow, she had to get help for Harm, but if she left him, the men might return and he would be helpless. If she didn’t leave him, he might die in her arms. There was absolutely no way she could carry him.

‘Think,’ Mackenzie, she cautioned herself. ‘Take deep breaths,’ she forced calm, using a technique taught her by her therapist. The ability to assess the situation and find a solution was returning when a movement brought her from her self-recriminations. She raised her rifle at the sound.

“Whoa there, Colonel. It’s me, Billy.”

“Billy. How…where…Harm’s hurt, help me.” She pleaded as the older man walked up through the trees.

“Hand me that last piece of your t-shirt there,” he instructed. “Then you better get dressed. We’re about to have company.”

As she struggled to pull her forgotten shirt back on, Billy stepped to the edge of the rock ledge and tied the piece of cloth to his rifle. Then he fired one shot in the air.

Instantly he was caught in the harsh glare of high-powered lights from the police vehicles below.

“Who’s there?” Sheriff Borden called over the loudspeaker on his patrol car. “That you, Billy?”

“It’s me sheriff, got a wounded man up here. We need some help.” Billy continued to wave his arms in surrender, but apparently, through some trick of acoustics his voice traveled to the men below.

The sheriff didn’t have to give orders. Two men detached themselves from their large vehicle and started up the side of the hill. One carried a medic bag and the other a lightweight stretcher.

In minutes, they were gently moving Mac aside so they could tend to Harm.

“He’ll be okay, ma’am,” the medic reassured Mac a few minutes later after he and his partner had place Harm on the stretcher under protest. “But we need to take him to the hospital in town.”

Mac nodded numbly. She wanted to object, wanted to insist Harm be flown to a state of the art facility, wanted to go with him. Mostly, she wanted to know how she could have shot the man she loved, but she gathered herself, stood up, and passed her rifle and Harm’s to Billy. He holstered his weapon and secured the others to his saddle with rawhide ties. The med bag was positioned between Harms legs and an IV bag secured to the top of it. They each took one corner of the stretcher and carefully picked their way down a game trail to the emergency vehicle. Billy’s horse followed several yards back.

End of thirteen

Big Blue Sky
Epilogue



Brooke’s ranch
Two and a half years later

Mac sat at the antique roll top desk in the den. She was balancing the books, and a look of satisfaction crossed her features. The changes they’d adopted over the last three years had proved very profitable. It had taken more than one heated meeting where everyone had spoken up. Finally, a blending of Shaun’s fresh approach based on his research into very new ideas, and Billy’s tried and true, combined with some ideas that Harm had come up with through observation had produced very satisfactory results.

She was really going to miss Billy. She could always count on him when it came to pulling something fun on Harm. Nevertheless, he could also be relied upon to have an answer for every problem. The die-hard cowboy was a walking encyclopedia of ranching knowledge.

It was time for him to retire though. His brother had a fishing boat in the Florida Keyes and Billy needed to get away from long hours in the saddle and the brutal Montana winters. He would be leaving as soon as the Spring roundup was finished.

The discussion had taken place at the turn of the New Year, and Harm had been searching with no luck since then for a suitable replacement. One of the senior cowhands asked to interview for the job, but when he found out all the responsibilities expected of him, he decided he liked the job he had just fine. Even the generous salary offered didn’t sway him.

Beth had returned to her habit of a morning ride to check the livestock. Losing every adult family member in less than ten years, then almost losing her grandchildren had hit her hard. For a few months, Mac and Harm had been deeply concerned for her health. They had no idea what to suggest to bring her out of the depression. Until Sam mentioned that Gramma didn’t ride anymore. They waited patiently for the right opportunity.

One morning in May she appeared in the barn while Harm readied his horse. She mentioned somewhat wistfully that she’d been riding since she was five years old and she missed it. Harm and Mac conferred silently, then Harm offered to saddle a horse for her and take it slow, if she wanted to come along. Her answer had been a disdainful sniff before she turned and stomped off. Shrugging to each other, Harm finished his preparations with a fervent wish that Mac could ride along, yet knowing there was good reason why she couldn’t.

Two minutes later Beth appeared back in the barn with one of the cutting horses walking about six feet behind her. She’d brought him in with only a length of soft rope. “I can saddle my own damn horse, and you better try to keep up with me,” she informed Harm.

After that, she was once again as much a fixture in the pastures as in the house. Harm found his skill as a rider and rancher much improved by watching and listening to her. In some ways, she was even better than Billy. She’d been born and raised to the life that Billy had adopted as an adult.

Mac leaned back in the big oak desk chair as she let her mind wander. Slowly her hand traveled over her small rounded belly. The doctors weren’t sure how it happened or why she was still able to conceive, but aside from some special precautions she experienced no problems.

She roused from her momentary reverie when she felt a warm presence against her back. His hands molded themselves lovingly around her shoulders. Her head came to rest on his hard, flat stomach. Ranching kept Harm as trim and tight as flying. Looking up she gazed into two pairs of aqua eyes. One loving, but faintly concerned, the other, a slightly darker shade, was happily amused. The second pair belonged to their young son who was perched on Harms shoulders.

“What’s up, Harm?” she asked, curious about the look on his face. Usually nothing interfered with the proud grin he wore whenever he was near his two-year-old son.

“Uh…nothing, not really. I think I might have found our new foreman.”

“Really? That’s great.” She knew how much Harm had worried about finding the right man.

“Well, maybe…that is, if you approve,” Harm vacillated.

“Why wouldn’t I approve, Harm. Is he qualified?” she stood up and turned to face him pushing the chair away.

“Well…I think it’s someone you know, only…well…not really,” he explained.

“Now that just doesn’t make sense, Harm. I’m fairly certain my background doesn’t include personal relationships with any cowboys,” she made light of his nonsense.

“No, but you have met this man before in another role. I wasn’t sure if it would bother you having him around. It’s up to you, Mac. Beth has met him, but the final say is yours.” Harm wouldn’t allow anything to upset Mac in her second pregnancy. The doctors cautioned that this must be the last for the safety of both the mother and any possible child.

Lifting his son off his shoulders he told him to go find Gramma. They both hesitated to watch as he streaked off towards the kitchen. Luke never went anywhere if not at a dead run. They had searched their minds for a name that had no possible connotations or connections with anyone they had ever known yet would give their little man a good solid positive self-image.

“Harm you just aren’t making any sense,” Mac picked up the thread. “Where is he?”

“In the living room,” Harm motioned to the tall slender man standing in the center of the room. He held his hat in his hands somewhat the same way that Harm had always held his uniform cover. Sunlight glinted off the neatly trimmed flaming red hair that curled around his head. Then he turned to look at her and Mac was startled off balance by the clear blue eyes. Harm reached out and took her arm to steady her.

“That’s just what I was afraid of,” his brow darkened.

“Harm that’s… that is, I mean…I…that’s…it’s….his hair is shorter, his eyes are blue now, and his skin is somewhat lighter, but I’m sure…”

“It is, Mac. His name is Robert MacGowan. He was an investigator for the Agriculture Department. When you met him as ‘Red’ he was working undercover.

Apparently, the man had a diverse family tree, and he’d made interesting use of it in altering his appearance.

“But he was here at the house with the Casey’s…”

“Trying to make sure no one got hurt,” Harm explained.

Mac looked hard at the man who was now looking back. His clear blue eyes were troubled, but free of guilt, as her mind fast played through the events of that night.

“If you don’t feel comfortable I told him this interview could go no farther. Mac, I don’t want you upset,” Harm reassured his pregnant wife.

“No…no, Harm, it’s okay, I think. That’s exactly what he did. That explains the third bullet in the man called Graney. One was yours, one was Billy’s, and one was ‘Red’s’. He also tried to get Don Casey out of the house after…after I…that is…so that’s why he just left the barn. The job was handled. I had taken care of it,” she worked it out in her mind.

“He knew about you…about both of us. He was trying to preserve his cover as long as he could, but he would have stepped in, I’m certain of it after talking to him. He said he almost didn’t send his resume, but he needs a place where he can work, and be with his family. He retired from the government at the end of the year. He knows the business, Mac,” Harm added.

“Let’s go,” she told Harm, starting for the living room.

“Robert, this is my wife, Sarah Mackenzie Rabb…” Harm introduced, catching up with the determined woman.

“Call me Mac,” she extended her hand. “It would appear we share a little secret, Mr. MacGowan,” she smiled.

“I go by Rob,” he took her hand. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am. I’d appreciate it if this doesn't get around. There’s some out there who take exception to the time I helped them spend in jail,” he smiled in return.

“It’s a concept Harm and I are perfectly familiar with, Rob. Welcome to Brookes Ranch,” Mac answered sincerely. She leaned contentedly back against Harm and looked up at him as he slipped his arm around her waist.

End