THE SWALLOWS KNOW

Chapter 1

He felt his eyes drawn toward her as she leaned seductively against the mantelpiece, seemingly detached from the gaiety of those around her. Her clinging black, low-cut dress  caressed her every sensuous curve, its jeweled spaghetti straps glistening on her silken shoulders. The woman appeared to be nearly as tall as he was, and perhaps a little younger--somewhere between twenty-five and thirty, he surmised. The  word sultry flashed into his mind as he quickly looked away; but too late, she had already noticed his stare.

An image crept into his consciousness of a sleek black panther that, were it not for the danger involved, he would have loved to  stroke. His animal instincts warned, however, that danger lurked, as the gorgeous woman smiled coyly over the top of her wineglass, which contained what appeared to be a blush.

Obviously a model or an actress, he concluded as he discreetly  surveyed her shoulder-length blonde hair, deep bronze tan, and magnificent body, enhanced by her expensive-looking attire. Yet, that made no sense. Why would she be here? She must be the wife of one of the ship's officers, or perhaps a  girlfriend; but why would she be standing there all alone?

Be careful, a little voice inside his head warned.

This party was a traditional hail-and-farewell to welcome the cruiser's new weapons officer, Lieutenant Commander Earl  Harris, and to say goodbye to the outgoing weapons officer, Lieutenant Commander Dick Adams. The affair was being held at the home of the ship's executive officer, Commander Claude DeRoche. Since reporting to the ship three days ago, Earl had  both dreaded and looked forward to this occasion. From experience, he knew that these functions provide an opportunity for the departing officer to receive accolades concerning his performance, along with a ship's plaque and other parting  keepsakes. These occasions also afford the transferring officer a chance to relate how he truly feels about the job he is leaving. The newly reporting officer would be introduced, of course, but this celebration was primarily for Dick Adams'  benefit.

Commander DeRoche's home was located in Del Mar, an established, high-cost beach community approximately twenty miles north of San Diego, California. Upon arrival, Earl noticed that the neighborhood and the homes were charming, as  was Commander DeRoche's wife, Donna. She gracefully welcomed the party guests, and Earl felt that she kept him engaged in conversation for exactly the right amount of time. He also sensed that underneath her elegant exterior lived a sad and  lonely woman. Of course, he might be imagining this because of what Dick Adams had told him earlier.

He wished Dick hadn't prejudiced him concerning some of the ship's officers and their wives. Dick's assessment of Commander DeRoche seemed  right on, though. Earl had noticed that the executive officer practically ignored his wife, Donna, and spent his time either flattering Captain Kowalski's lovely wife, Carolyn, or overplaying his role as engaging host to some of the other  attractive wives or girlfriends. Earl briefly wondered which category the gorgeous blonde fit into as he again glanced in her direction. She still stood alone near the fireplace, and he thought she looked sad now.

The cruiser's wardroom  consisted of twenty-four officers, most of whom Earl had met during his short tenure on board his new ship. Tonight he had trouble recognizing many of them since seeing them out of uniform and with their ladies added to his difficulty. Most of  the officers were married, and some of the young, single officers had brought girlfriends to the party. Earl would never have considered bringing a lady friend to this type affair, even if he had a lady friend. To him, the members of a ship's  wardroom are like family and anyone not a member of that family might feel like an outsider at this type function.

Earl frequently felt lonely and out of place on these occasions. Since Barbara Lynn had left him nearly five years ago, he  often found himself the token single guy among his married contemporaries. He had never quite gotten over losing Lynn; he hadn't seen it coming. His first inkling of a problem with his marriage had been when she told him that she was leaving  him; yet apparently she had been considering leaving for a long time. He hadn't even known there was a problem until too late to fix it. Of course, he had been away at sea, including several months on an icebreaker during an Operation Deep  Freeze deployment in Antarctica.

Barbara Lynn had been awarded custody of their daughter, Lynnie, who was three years old at the time of the divorce. Earl realized that he would be at sea too much to provide proper care for his daughter,  but that didn't make it any easier to give her up. He still missed Lynnie terribly and intended to spend as much time with her as possible during this tour of duty. For a long time, he missed Barbara Lynn too, but finally he had accepted that  she simply didn't love him anymore. Fortunately, she and Earl had remained friends, even after she remarried, which made his visitations with Lynnie easier.

Again, he glanced toward the ravishing creature who still stood alone near the  fireplace. Suddenly he felt drawn toward her, and without thinking, he began moving in her direction. From what Dick Adams had told him, he surmised that this woman might be Sylvia Reynolds, the wife of the ship's navigator. Earlier in the  evening, Earl had noticed Lieutenant Jerry Reynolds, but he hadn't yet seen the two of them together. Glancing across the room now, he spotted Jerry talking with a group of other young officers.

As he made his way across the crowded living  room toward her, Earl saw Commander DeRoche approaching the woman. DeRoche smiled, exuding charm, and Earl thought he noticed the woman cringe slightly at the man's advance. Earl stopped and discreetly watched their interaction, trying to put  aside any prejudice from Dick Adams' warnings about the personalities involved. He noticed that she was no longer smiling. Suddenly she turned away, in anger it appeared. After uttering some parting remark that Earl couldn't hear, DeRoche left  her alone.

Earl continued moving toward her. As he approached, with no idea what he would say, she smiled warmly and said, "Hiiii. You must be the Earl, right? Welcome aboard. I'm Sylvia."

 Yes, this must be Sylvia Reynolds--Mrs. Sylvia Reynolds, his little voice confirmed.

Her smooth voice and slight southern accent matched everything else about her, and her deep azure eyes expressed more than did her words. Earl felt  warm all over and feared his voice might falter as he said "Hello, Sylvia," and offered his hand in greeting. "Nice to meet you."

Very nice, his little voice asserted, and he agreed completely as she placed her  warm hand into his. She made no effort to withdraw her hand, so he continued to hold it, feeling a strange tingling sensation, as if he were receiving energy through her touch. Or was he imagining this?

"Yes, you too," she said,  squeezing his hand ever so slightly. She then placed her left hand over their joined hands and he noticed the ring: a large pear-shaped diamond set in an intricate antique-looking gold band.

A wedding ring? Perhaps . Not wanting to stare, he quickly averted his eyes.

"So tell me about the Earl," she continued. "Is he married?"

A mischievous smile graced her lovely face as she slowly released his hand. Taken aback, thinking that  she definitely got right to the point, he mumbled, "No . . . well, yes--I mean he, uh . . . I was, but it didn't work out."

He felt terribly foolish as she giggled and said, "Oh, I'm sorry." Then she smiled, lowered her  eyes and softly added, "Well, not really. Sorry it didn't work out, sure, but not sorry that the Earl's available." She quickly placed her fingers to her lips and blushed. "Oh, no! I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry. Please  don't get the wrong idea." Then she shook her head and grimaced. "Oops, sorry . . . shouldn't have said that either. Please forgive me. I seem to talk way too much after I've had a little wine."

"Oh, that's okay," Earl said. "I'm harmless."

She smiled, held her empty wineglass aloft and he quickly took the glass to refill it. Upon his return, he thought he detected a change in her countenance. She appeared more  serious now and when she spoke, the tone of her voice sounded almost pleading.

"I'm sorry, Earl. Please forgive me. I didn't mean anything. I hope you and I can become friends. I need a friend . . . really, I do. Would the Earl be my  friend?"

He thought he detected a trace of sadness in her voice now, or could that be part of a planned performance? She seemed slightly inebriated, and Earl again reminded himself that he must be careful. Already he felt out of  control; had felt it since the moment their eyes met.

"Well, uh . . . I guess so. Sure, why not. Are you here alone, Sylvia?" Quickly he chided himself for posing a question to which he was nearly certain he already knew the  answer.

"Alone? No, I'm not here alone. I'm with the Earl, silly man." She giggled again. "Oh, you mean . . . well, I'm Sylvia Reynolds. You know the renowned navigator, Lieutenant Jerry Reynolds, don't you? Everyone  does."

"Yes, I've met Jerry." Earl glanced across the room toward where he had seen Lieutenant Reynolds earlier, but he didn't see the lieutenant now. "I hear he's one of the most competent officers on the ship."

She lowered her eyes and said softly, "Yes, I'm sure he is."

After a moment, she looked up, smiled radiantly and assumed a cheerful attitude. "Well, tell me more about yourself, Earl Harris."

"What would you like  to know, Sylvia Reynolds?" He found himself mimicking her light-hearted banter.

"Why, everything! Like, what's a good-looking guy like you doing in a place like this? Now there's a line you guys use to pick up the girls, right?  Think it'll work for me?"

Obviously, she must be kidding. Or is she, he wondered?

Of course, he should walk away, right now. Every fiber of his being resonated: Get away before it's too late. It might already be too  late, though; he knew it and he imagined that she did too. Everything he had heard about Sylvia Reynolds, the navigator's wife, about Commander DeRoche, the executive officer, and about Captain Kowalski's virtuous expectations, spelled trouble  for him if he allowed this encounter to take its course. From the moment he first saw her standing there looking so forlorn, he knew where this encounter could and probably would lead if he allowed it to continue.

Of course, none of this  mattered. He couldn't just walk away from this remarkable woman; the attraction was already too strong. Looking into her deep blue eyes, he extended his hand. She smiled, set her wineglass on the mantel, and placed her warm hand into his. Then  he led her across the room to a less crowded area, and immediately she melted into his arms. As they began swaying to the soft music from the stereo, he felt some stares, since no one else was dancing. He also felt Sylvia Reynolds--nearly all  of her--as she rested her head on his shoulder and easily maneuvered into a close embrace. Her warm body so close to his stirred a fire deep within, a feeling he had almost forgotten. Suddenly, he again became that silly teenager at a  sophomore dance, as best he could remember those feelings from so long ago.

As they danced, her warm breath caressed his neck and the subtle, sweet aroma of her essence enveloped him. His hand rested on her back, his fingers extending just  above the cut of her dress. As he lightly touched her warm, soft skin, intense heat passed between them. Must be the wine, he rationalized; yet, he knew why he burned within. The music, the wine and her fragrance had hypnotized him to the  point that he no longer cared about anything else. Amazingly, he found himself willing to risk his career for this woman, the wife of a junior officer in his new command.

Walk away before it's too late, his little voice again  insisted. Yet, he was captivated, her magnetism holding him suspended like the proverbial fly awaiting the spider's next move. He was her prey, and she was obviously aware that she could have him whenever she wished. It might be a long time  before it happened, but he already knew that eventually it would happen. He must restrain these thoughts! After all, he never fooled around with married women; and if he allowed this to continue it could jeopardize his career before his tour  of duty on USS Kerrington ever officially commenced. He continued to rationalize that he was simply being polite to this beautiful woman; yet, he only hoped that no one else could read his thoughts, as he was nearly certain Sylvia Reynolds  already had.

What could he be thinking? Was he willing to put his career on the line for another man's wife, whom he had only just met? How ridiculous, logically; yet, he knew that logic wasn't a primary factor in this encounter. So drawn  was he to this woman that no matter how strongly he might fight his feelings, he continued to fantasize that the day would come when he would have Sylvia Reynolds, and the consequences be damned. Even worse, he was nearly certain that she felt  the same, and this scared Earl Harris more than he cared to admit.

* * *

What is happening to me? Must be the wine, Sylvia Reynolds rationalized, although she'd only had a glass and a half. Suddenly, being held by this  man, a stranger--yet not--felt so wonderful and she found herself melting at his touch. There was something about the look in his eyes, a kind of sadness that she felt she understood. His manner, the way he talked, and especially the way he  held her, made her feel warm all over. She could feel her heart beating fast against his chest and wondered if he felt it too.

Sylvia was aware that the other wives already disliked her; she wondered what they would think now. No doubt,  they would think she was coming onto this man simply because he bore a similarity to a younger Robert Redford. Little could they know or understand that her attraction to him had practically nothing to do with his good looks. Except for how it  might affect Jerry, though, she almost didn't even care what they thought of her. The other wives already considered her a flirt and a tease, and of course, DeRoche's advances perpetuated that image. The Roach--she didn't want to think  of that loser right now. Finally, she had met someone whom she felt she might come to trust, and this at the same time excited and frightened her. She must be careful not to scare him away, though, after experiencing only a few minutes of this  wonderful closeness that she hadn't felt for such a long time. What must he be thinking already, though? Assuming he was the type man that she believed him to be-and she was seldom wrong about these matters-then he must be feeling some concern  about what was going on right here in front of everyone. Of course, all they were doing was dancing; what could be wrong with that?

The dance ended too soon, yet perhaps not soon enough. Sylvia then heard Captain Kowalski's booming, John Wayne voice, and she tried to concentrate on what the captain was saying.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, if I could have your attention, please." A hush spread quickly across the room and Earl released Sylvia and backed away to  listen. "It's time to welcome our new officer and say goodbye to our old friend, Dick Adams. Come on up here, Dick."

Dick Adams walked toward the captain who stood near the front of the room and Captain Kowalski continued,  "First, let me say what a fine job Dick has done for us. As sorry as we are to see him depart, we wish him well in his new duties at the Pentagon. I'll let you say your piece shortly, Dick, and I'm sure some of your colleagues have a few  things they'd like to say to you."

The captain then looked toward Earl and added, "But first, let me welcome to the Kerrington family a fine officer about whom I've heard nothing but good reports . . . Lieutenant Commander Earl  Harris. Earl, come on up here so everyone can greet you."

Sylvia watched as Earl proceeded to the front of the room and stood next to Dick Adams. She thought he looked as if this were the last place he wanted to be right now. Or was  she imparting feelings that he might not be experiencing? Not likely, she quickly concluded as the captain continued.

"Earl is coming to us from the Naval Postgraduate School in Monterey, where he earned a masters degree in Computer  Science. I'm sure he'll teach us a lot about all those computers we have on the ship. Earl, welcome aboard. We look forward to having you as a member of the wardroom. I think you'll discover this to be a fine group."

"Thank you, Captain," Earl said softly.

The captain paused, smiled slightly, and added, "I see you've already met Sylvia Reynolds."

Sylvia felt her face flush, and as Earl glanced in her direction, she noticed that he  suffered from a similar problem. She tried to smile reassuringly, realizing that the captain obviously had noticed what had been going on between her and Earl. Should she interpret his remark as a mild reprimand?

 Of course, what else could he mean?

"Sylvia's our best welcoming committee of one, as I'm sure you noticed," the captain added, displaying no discernible emotion. "Anyway, welcome, Earl."

Captain Kowalski then  turned his attention to Dick Adams. "Now, as is our custom, Dick, I'm going to turn the floor over to some of your cronies. I'm sure they have a few things they'd like to say."

Earl stepped aside and began discreetly making his  way back toward her as some of the officers began relating humorous episodes that had occurred during Dick's tour. The ship's supply officer, Lieutenant Commander Stan Waters, was speaking now, talking about some significant experiences that  he and Dick had shared. Jerry had told Sylvia that Stan and Dick were good friends, and she imagined Stan hated to see Dick leave. All the officers seemed to like Dick, as did Sylvia, although she didn't know him well. Several of the officers  presented him with gag gifts, conveying in a safe and clever manner their real feelings for him.

When everyone who wanted to speak had finished, Captain Kowalski presented Dick with an engraved ship's plaque, and then it was Dick's turn to  make his parting remarks. He began a passionate speech about how much he had enjoyed his tour on Kerrington, and how he hated to leave all his friends. Sylvia detected sadness in his voice as he struggled to say farewell to a group of people  for whom he obviously cared deeply.

Earl finally made his way back to where Sylvia stood leaning against the dining room doorjamb. Just the thought of his nearness made her warm all over. She wondered if Dick Adams had told Earl about her.  Probably he would have; and it wouldn't have been anything good. Dick might also have warned him about Commander DeRoche, and about Captain Kowalski's attitude concerning the exact situation that seemed to be developing here tonight.

 Or has already developed, she concluded.

She mustn't allow these feelings to continue. This was far too dangerous, both for her and for Earl. But primarily for Jerry's sake, she had to force herself to walk away from this situation, and  she must do so now, before it went any further.

Glancing around the room, she finally located Jerry and signaled with a touch of her finger to her wrist, indicating it was time to leave.

Sylvia extended her hand. "I have to say  goodnight now, Earl Harris. Again, welcome to Kerrington, and thanks for making this evening more bearable for me." She then leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

As she turned and walked across the room toward where  Jerry stood, Sylvia could feel Earl's eyes following her. When she reached Jerry, she took his arm and they proceeded to locate their hostess, Donna DeRoche, to make their dutiful parting remarks. As they walked arm-in-arm across the crowded  room, Sylvia couldn't resist a quick glance back in Earl's direction. As expected, he was watching her every move. She caught his eye and smiled, then they each quickly looked away.