"I love you," Lindy whispered, "I…I told you before you left that I know my own heart, and I do. Over."

"When I didn’t get any mail, I thought you’d decided to…hell, I don’t know what I thought. Over."

"I’ll write every day, I promise. I’m not going to make the same mistake twice with the mail business. Over."

"Damn good thing. I nearly went berserk. Over."

"I’m really sorry, Rush. I felt terrible when the letter was returned. Over."

"I understand. Over."

They were married and hadn’t seen each other in two months and there didn’t seem to be anything more they had to say.

"I have to go. Over," Rush said, after an awkward moment.

"I know. Goodbye, Rush. Don’t worry about anything at this end. I’m doing okay. Your letters help…. I’m really sorry about what happened with yours. It won’t happen again. Over."

"Goodbye, Lindy. I need you. Over."

The line went dead then and she was left holding the receiver in her hand. A tingling, burning feeling worked its way from her fingers down her arm and through her torso to settle in her stomach. Rush had been so angry with her. She couldn’t blame him for being upset, but once that matter had been cleared up their conversation had remained awkward and stilted. They didn’t have a lot to say to each other. His life was so far removed from hers now that there was nothing to share. He was a naval officer; she worked for an airline manufacturer. Their lives had briefly crossed paths for a three-week span and, when it came time to separate, they’d resisted and held on to each other. For the first time since Rush had been deployed, Lindy wondered if she had done the right thing in marrying him. At that moment it didn’t feel right. Not for her, and from the way it sounded, not for Rush, either.

Lindy leaned back against the headboard and released a slow, agonized sigh. The shaking started then, and she gripped her hands together in a futile effort to control the trembling. She had married a man she barely knew, on an impulse. Doubts whizzed through her mind like buzzards circling a crippled animal, waiting for it to die. The picture was all too graphic in Lindy’s troubled mind. She was stumbling and her family, particularly her brother, were all waiting for her to fall so they could tell her what a fool she’d been.

Lindy shook her head to dissolve the nightmarish image. She was being ridiculous. She loved Rush, and he loved her. He’d just ended their conversation by telling her of his need for her. A man like Rush Callaghan didn’t say those words lightly. The circumstances they were trapped in had led to this negative thinking. These doubts would be gone by morning and she’d feel as strongly as ever about her commitment to Rush.

Swallowing at the hard lump in the back of her throat, Lindy turned off the bedside lamp and lay back down, resting her head on the pillow that had once been her husband’s. Everything was going to work out fine. She’d done the right thing by marrying Rush. They were deeply in love with each other and if there were a few rocky roads ahead, that was to be expected. They’d weather those just fine.

But Lindy didn’t sleep that night.

The tall waiter handed Lindy the oblong menu with the gold tassel. "This is a pleasant surprise," she said, looking across the linen-covered table at her older brother. Her relationship with Steve had gone much better this past month. He rarely mentioned Rush, and she stayed away from the subject of Carol. It wasn’t exactly solid ground they stood on, but stable enough for the two of them to coexist without too many personality problems. The gesture of dinner was a delightful one, and Lindy wasn’t about to refuse. They both needed a break from the humdrum of daily life.

These last couple of days Steve had been almost like his old self – teasing, joking and laughing. If she hadn’t known him better, Lindy might have been fooled. She toyed with the idea of talking to Steve about the doubts that had been haunting her since the ship-to-shore call from Rush. She was terribly frightened that she’d done the wrong thing in marrying him, and she was unsure what, if anything, she could do about it.

"I figure I owe you at least one evening out before I leave," Steve said as a means of explanation for the unexpected invitation.

"You didn’t need to pick the most expensive restaurant in town."

Steve glanced over the top of his menu and shrugged. "What else have I got to do with my money?"

"You could start dating again." She offered the suggestion flippantly, not really meaning it. Like Rush, Lindy had recognized almost immediately that her brother was still in love with his ex-wife.

"I could," Steve answered thoughtfully. "But I won’t."

"I know," Lindy said, understanding perfectly.

"What do you know?"

It was almost as if they were children again, Lindy mused – the way his eyes sparkled with mischief and his mouth quirked with a teasing half smile.

"Well?" he pressed.

"I know you won’t date again."

Slowly Steve set the menu aside, his fingers lingering over the gold tassel. The humor drained out of his eyes. "The lobster sounds good, doesn’t it?"

Lindy didn’t want to introduce a subject that would embarrass or intimidate her older brother. Any mention of Carol was taboo and they both knew it. Sadly she recognized that talking over her fears about her marriage wasn’t going to work, either. She didn’t know what she’d tell Steve anyway. She was scared to death she’d married the wrong man, terrified that everything her brother had accused her of was true.

Her biggest concern was that she’d accepted Rush’s proposal on the rebound and her marriage was based on emotional insecurity. Two weeks wasn’t sufficient time to know a man well enough to commit her life to him. Even the regrets Rush had prophesied were beginning to come true. There were days when she had to struggle to remember what her husband looked like. A thousand unknowns haunted her. His phone call had only served to remind her how arrogant he could be, and the letters from him that had followed were filled with his angry frustration at not hearing from her.

Although Steve seemed more open than he had been, Lindy didn’t feel she could discuss her doubts. Her brother was struggling with his own problems.

"Then lobster it is," she said, forcing her voice to sound airy and bright.

Steve picked up his butter knife and slowly ran the blade down his long fingers. "I wanted to take you to dinner for another reason, too."

"I’m a rotten cook and another night of my special enchiladas with homemade salsa was more than your stomach could tolerate?"

"Close," Steve answered, and chuckled. But his eyes quickly sobered and he lowered his gaze. "Actually I owe you an apology, sis."

"Oh?" This was a major surprise.

"I was wrong to come down on you and Rush the way I did." He lay the butter knife down and reached for the salad fork, absently stroking the tines. Every mannerism revealed his regret at the way he’d chastised her earlier. "If I’d gone out and handpicked a husband for you, I couldn’t have found a better man than Rush Callaghan."

Lindy’s gaze rested on the delicate floral design of the place setting.

"You saw what you wanted," Steve continued, "and went after it. It takes a special kind of woman to do that, Lindy, and although I’ll admit I had my fears, you’ve managed to calm every one of them."

"He is wonderful."

"You both are."

Lindy’s nod was decidedly noncommittal. She could feel the emotion gathering in the back of her eyes. How could Steve sound so certain about her and Rush when she was struggling to believe in her own marriage? He made her happiness sound like a foregone conclusion when she was dog-paddling in a mire of self-doubts, struggling to stay afloat. A week before he would have taken her in his arms and comforted her. Tonight he made her sound like Joan of Arc for being so brave and true. There was no justice left in the world. None.

"Attribute my foul mood to the fact that I was shocked by your news. That and a strong brotherly instinct to protect my baby sister. I think the two of you are going to do exceptionally well together."

With trembling hands Lindy smoothed the pink linen napkin in her lap, hardly able to breathe normally, let alone find words to answer her brother. His original disdain for her and Rush’s marriage had a lot more to do with his own unpleasant experience with nuptial bliss than anything else. Lindy’s greatest fear was that she’d made the same mistake her brother had.

After an awkward moment, Lindy murmured, "I appreciate the apology, Steve, but it wasn’t necessary."

Her brother shook his head, dismissing her words. "Rush will be good to you, and you’re exactly the right kind of woman for him. I expect you’ll both be very happy."

"We’re going to try." The words were squeezed out of Lindy’s throat. If he didn’t stop soon, she was going to embarrass them both by bursting into tears.

"Give this marriage everything you’ve got, Lindy." He set down the fork and reached for the water glass. "Hold on to the happiness with both hands. Don’t ever let anything stand between you."

His eyes were so full of pain that Lindy had to look away. She felt certain he must have read all the fear in her eyes. How sad it was that the two of them, who had once been so close, could sit across from each other and ignore what was on their hearts.

Reaching for the menu once more, Steve released his breath in a long sigh. "What do you say we start off dinner with a Caesar salad?"

"Sure." Lindy answered, forcing herself to smile.

My dearest Lindy,

I feel like a first-class idiot, shouting at you the way I did on the phone the other night. I jumped to conclusions, thinking the worst when I didn’t get any mail from you. Lindy, I can’t even begin to explain what was going on inside me. Jeff tried to tell me there was some logical explanation why you hadn’t written, but I wouldn’t listen. It was as though my greatest fears were hitting me in the face. I couldn’t sleep; I couldn’t eat. In my mind, I was absolutely certain Paul had come back and told you he’d made a mistake and you’d left with him. I know it sounds crazy now, but at the time, it made perfect sense.

From the day when the mail was handed out and I didn’t get any, I’ve been acting like a real ass. Jeff must have gone to the chaplain because the next thing I knew I got called in to talk to him. He was the one who arranged the ship-to-shore call. Thank God he did.

After we talked, I was ready to free-fly. There’s no way to explain how much better I felt. Has anyone ever told you what a sweet, sexy voice you have? And when you told me you still loved me, I nearly broke down and wept. I was so relieved. God, Lindy, I don’t even know how to explain how good it felt to know everything’s all right.

After the things I said to you in my last letter, I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to bag this whole marriage, but I’m hoping to God you don’t. All I can say is, I’m sorry.