No Quarter Given. Lindsay McKenna
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were down-and-out—which wasn’t often. She watched her friend, dressed in a pair of pale green cotton shorts and a white blouse, disappear into another room.
Looking around the quiet apartment, Dana thought how beautiful it was compared to the dorm they’d lived in at Annapolis. They had sent Molly ahead to choose something for the three of them. It was the first time Dana had seen it. The walls were an ivory color to match the carpet. Molly had brought her furniture from Boston and it was bamboo with cushions in pastel peaches, plums and pale greens. Soft, quiet colors, Dana thought, like warmhearted, serene Molly.
Closing her eyes, she released a long, ragged sigh. It felt good to relax, to know she was safe again. In a way, Dana really was glad Maggie wasn’t here. The Irishwoman’s red hair and quick temper would have created instant passion and emotion—two things she’d had plenty of in the past couple of hours. No, she needed Molly’s more tranquil personality.
“Here you go.” Molly came back and sat down facing Dana. Gently she placed the ice pack over Dana’s eye. “Gosh, that looks awful, Dana. Maybe we ought to get you over to the dispensary of Whiting Field and have a doctor look at it.”
Grimacing, Dana held the pack firmly against her eye. “No way, Mol. It’s going to be tough enough going there tomorrow with this black eye. If I can’t get this swelling down enough, the doc might ground me. I don’t want to be grounded for a week waiting for this thing to heal. I’d be a week behind my class. That wouldn’t bode well for me or my chances of getting my wings.”
“You poor dear.” Molly pushed strands of black hair away from Dana’s forehead.
“You got any old recipes from your grandma Inez for black eyes?” Molly was close with her rich and influential Boston family, particularly her twin brother, Scott, who was confined to a wheelchair for life. Molly loved to cook, and had used old-time remedies from her beloved granny to help the three of them through the cold-and-flu seasons at Annapolis every year.
“Let’s see…” Molly glanced around at the stacks of boxes. The room was filled with them. “Grandma Inez put all her remedies in one book. Where did I pack it?”
“Didn’t you number your boxes and what was in them?” Dana smiled to herself, loving Molly fiercely. In some ways, she felt Molly was too soft to have graduated from Annapolis, but she had. Did she have the toughness it would take to get her wings?
Her finger on her chin, Molly scowled. “No…”
“Don’t worry about it,” Dana whispered. “Look, you go ahead and keep unpacking. I’m just going to lie here and regroup, okay?”
“Are you sure? At least let me clean up that arm of yours. It’s awful looking.”
Dana grinned, though it hurt to do it. “Is everything about me ‘awful,’ Mol?”
Laughing, Molly stood. “Of course not! How many times have you come in looking beat-up like this?”
“Never,” Dana agreed. Not since she’d left home at eighteen for Annapolis, she thought, where her father couldn’t reach her.
“I’m allowed to be concerned, then. I just unpacked the bathroom stuff. At least we can clean and bandage your arm.”
It felt good simply to rest and let Molly take care of her. Dana knew she trusted very few people to do that, but Molly had earned her trust over four long, harsh years at the academy. Besides, wasn’t this what the Sisterhood was all about? Hell of a way to test it out, Dana decided wryly.
As she drifted off, almost asleep, Griff’s face suddenly appeared before her. Startled, she woke with a jerk.
Molly turned toward her quickly. “Dana? What’s wrong?”
Scowling, Dana relaxed back into the cushions. “Uh…nothing.”
“You jumped as if someone were attacking you,” Molly chided, sitting back down beside Dana. She arranged the gauze, tape and antiseptic on the floor next to the couch.
“It was nothing. I’m just jumpy after that guy hit me at the airport.” It wasn’t a lie. Dana didn’t like evading her friends, but it simply hurt too much to delve into the reasons behind her defensive, wary nature. They’d accepted her without questions, and she was grateful.
As gently as possible, Molly cleaned the long bloody scrapes on Dana’s arm. “You’ve got to be feeling sore and bruised all over. How about if I draw you a hot bath? I think all you can stand right now is bed and rest. Maggie’s out doing the shopping for us. We can continue unpacking tonight without you, Dana. You really need to rest.”
Tears jammed behind Dana’s closed eyes. “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re Florence Nightingale in this incarnation?”
Molly laughed softly, daubing the stinging antiseptic across Dana’s arm. “Same old Dana: teasing even if you feel rotten.”
“Humor is the only thing that’s saved me,” she told Molly seriously.
“Teasing aside, want that bath?”
“Yes. I stink.”
“I wasn’t going to put it exactly like that.”
“You wouldn’t. You’re too kind, Mol.”
Giggling, Molly bandaged her arm. “Maggie would wrinkle her nose.”
“And roll those big green eyes of hers.”
“She has great body language,” Molly agreed.
“I feel better already.” Dana sighed. With her two friends, she felt a safety she’d never before been able to achieve. She felt encroaching exhaustion. “Listen, I think after a bath, I’m going to crash and burn. Which bedroom is mine?”
“The last on the left. It has a lovely dusty-rose carpet. We’ve already got the beds put together. While you’re getting your bath, I’ll put sheets and a blanket on it.”
“Thanks.” Only Molly would notice such details as carpet color. Dana wasn’t as attuned to such subtleties as Molly or Maggie. No. All her sensory abilities centered on her survival mechanism. Sometimes Dana wished she could ease her guard and enjoy the things her friends did with such relish. Her defensive nature had relaxed some, thanks to them. Still, Dana knew she had a long way to go. She wondered if she’d ever lose her wary attitude toward all men.
After her bath, Dana went straight to her new bedroom. Her face was aching again. The ice pack had helped tremendously, and as Dana settled into her double bed, Molly brought her a second pack.
“Listen, you sleep all you want. We won’t wake you for dinner. Okay?”
Dana put the pack on the pillow and laid her injured cheek against it. “Fine….”
Molly quietly closed the door.
Outside the open window, Dana could hear the cheerful call of birds. Beyond that, she heard airplanes in the distance. She was sure it was the trainers from Whiting Field and nearby Pensacola Naval Air Station. The spring air was humid, and she could smell the ocean in the breeze from the gulf. Just as she slipped into a deep, healing sleep, Griff’s face appeared once again. This time, Dana wasn’t jerked awake. She lost herself in his dove-gray eyes, which radiated that incredible warmth. For the first time in her life, she had felt safe with a man—a stranger she’d never meet again.
* * *
Dana awakened slowly, realizing it was dark in the room. Her head was throbbing, and she sat up groggily, holding her injured, puffy cheek. It felt as if it had grown in size. Damn the man who’d hit her. She took some small satisfaction in the punch Griff had returned. Maybe there was a little justice in this universe.
The door to her bedroom opened quietly. Dana looked up to see Maggie, her long, lean face shadowed by the light spilling into the room from behind her.
“I’m awake,” Dana muttered. “Come on in.”
Maggie