Debbie Macomber: Navy Baby

Hannah knew her friends were worried about her, but she’d managed to put on a facade that fooled most everyone. Everyone, that was, except her father, who knew her so well.

“God works in mysterious ways,” Reverend Parker had told her on her way out the door. He’d paused and gently patted her back in a gesture of love.

Until Jerry’s death, Hannah had never questioned her role in life. When others grieved, she’d sat at their sides, comforted them with the knowledge that whatever had befallen them was part of God’s will. The words came back to haunt her now, slapping a cold hand of reality across her face. Several had issued the trite platitude to her, and Hannah had quickly grown to hate such meaningless clichés.

God’s will. Hannah had given up believing all the religious jargon she’d been raised to embrace. If God was so loving and so good, then why had He allowed Jerry to die? It made no sense to her. Jerry was a rare man, good and godly. They’d been so much in love and even though they were engaged to marry, they’d never gone beyond kissing and a little petting. They’d hungered for each other the way all couples deeply in love do, and yet Jerry had always managed to keep them from succumbing to temptation. Now, with everything in her, Hannah wished that once, just once, she could have lain in his arms. She’d give everything she would ever have in this life to have known his touch, to have surrendered her virginity to him.

But it was never meant to be.

Stirring, Hannah woke, rolled over and stared blankly at the wall. Her hands rested on her stomach, which seemed to have quieted. A glance at her watch told her that even if she rushed and dressed she’d still be late for the church service. She didn’t feel like listening to her father’s sermon. It wouldn’t do her any good now. Huge tears brimmed in her eyes and slipped unheeded down her cheeks, soaking into her pillow.

Sleep beckoned her once more, and she closed her eyes. Once again the sailor’s face returned, his dark eyes glaring down on her as they had the night he’d taken her to the hotel room. She’d never forget his shocked, distressed look when he’d realized she was a virgin. The torment she’d read in his gaze would haunt her all the way to the grave. His eyes had rounded with incredulity and disbelief. For one wild second Hannah had feared he would push himself away from her, but she’d reached up and brushed his mouth with her own and then…

She groaned and with a determined effort banished him from her mind once more. She didn’t want to think about Riley Murdock. Didn’t want to remember anything about him. Certainly not the gentle way he’d comforted her afterward or the stark questions in his eyes as he’d pulled her close and held her until she’d slept.

Go away, she cried silently. Leave me in peace. Her strength was depleted, and without effort she drifted into a restless slumber.

Riley was there waiting for her.

Following her conversation with Reverend Parker, Hannah had gone out to the alley where she’d parked the station wagon. To her dismay she discovered that while she’d been inside the Mission House, several cars had blocked her way out of the alley. By all rights, she should have contacted the police and had the vehicles towed away at the owners’ expense, but it would have been uncharacteristically mean.

Since the parade was scheduled to begin within the next hour, Hannah decided to stay in the downtown area and view it herself. There wasn’t any reason to hurry home.

The waterfront was teeming with tourists. Sailors were everywhere, their white uniforms standing out in the crowd, their bucket hats bobbing up and down in the multitude.

Sea gulls lazily circled overhead, casting giant shadows along the piers. The fresh scent of the sea, carried on the warm wind off Elliott Bay, mingled with the aroma of fried fish and simmering pots of clam chowder. The smell of food reminded Hannah that she hadn’t eaten since early that morning. Buying a cup of chowder was tempting, but the lines were long and it was simply too much bother.

Life was too much of a bother. How different all this would be if only Jerry were at her side. She recalled the many good times they’d spent with each other. A year earlier, Jerry had run in the Seafair race and they’d stayed for the parade, laughing and joking, their arms wrapped around each other. What a difference a year could make.

The climb up the steep flight of steps that led from the waterfront to the Pike Place Market exhausted Hannah. Soon, however, she found herself standing along the parade route, where people were crowded against the curbs. Several had brought lawn chairs and blankets, and it looked as if they’d been camped there a good long while.

Vendors strolled the street, selling their wares to children who danced in and out of the waiting crowd like court jesters.

Hannah was amused by their antics when little managed to cheer her those days. She was so caught up in the activities going on around her that she wasn’t watching where she was walking. Before she realized what she was doing, she stumbled headlong into a solid male chest. For an instant she assumed she’d blundered into a brick wall. The pair of strong hands that caught her shoulders convinced her otherwise. His grip tightened to keep her from stumbling backward.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, once she’d found her voice. He was a sailor. One tall and muscular sailor. As nonsensical as it seemed, he had the look of a pirate about him—bold and daring. His hair was as dark as his eyes. He wasn’t strikingly handsome; his features were too sharp, too craggy for that. Then his finely shaped mouth curved into a faint smile, flashing white, even teeth.

“I’m…sorry,” she stammered again, staring up at him, embarrassed at the way she’d been openly appraising him. She couldn’t help being curious. He seemed so aloof, so withdrawn that she felt forced to embellish. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.” She offered him a feeble smile, and when he dropped his hands, she blushed and looked away.

“You weren’t hurt?”

“No…no, I’m fine. What about you?”

“No problem.” His gaze swept over her, and he moved on without saying another word.

Following the brief encounter, Hannah decided it would be best if she stood in one place. She selected a vantage point that offered her a good view of the parade, which was just beginning.

With mild interest she viewed the mayor and several other public officials as they rode by, sitting atop polished convertibles. She lost count of the number of bands and performing drill teams that passed. A fire-flashing baton twirler was followed by a variety of enchanting floats.

Enthralled almost against her will, Hannah stayed until the very end, when it was well past dark. The crowds had started to disperse, and hoping the station wagon was no longer blocked, she headed down the steep hills toward the Mission House. Since there were still people about, she didn’t think there’d be a problem of being alone in a bad section of town. But as she neared the Mission House, she discovered there were only a few cars left parked in the area. Soon there was no one else in sight.

When she first noticed the twin shadows following her she was pleased, naively thinking there was safety in numbers. But when she turned and noted the way the two were closing in on her, with menacing looks and walks, she knew she was in trouble.

As she approached the street on which the Mission House was located, she noted that the pair was still advancing. Quickening her pace, she clenched her purse to her side. An eerie sensation ran up and down her spine, and the taste of dread mingled with a growing sense of alarm filled her mouth.