"Yes...no...Yes," she quickly amended. "I just hope he's been as miserable as I have."

Greg's smile faded. "No question there."

The phone rang once; Barbara must have answered it right away, and within a few minutes she returned to the kitchen, carrying a portable phone. "It's for you."

Greg started toward her.

"Not you, honey," she said, nodding at Ruth. "The call is for Ruth."

"Me?" She was startled. No one knew she'd come here. Anyone wanting to reach her would automatically use her cell-phone number. Her frown quickly disappeared as she realized who it must be.

"Is it Paul?" she asked, her voice low and hopeful.

"It is. He thinks Greg's about to get on the line." She clasped her husband's elbow. "Come on, honey, let's give Ruth and Paul some privacy." She was halfway out of the room when she turned back, caught Ruth's eye and winked.

That was just the encouragement Ruth needed. Still, she felt decidedly nervous as she picked up the portable phone resting on the kitchen counter. After the way they'd parted, she didn't know what to expect or how to react.

"Hello, Paul," she said, hoping to sound calm and confident, neither of which she was.

Her greeting was followed by a slight hesitation. "Ruth?"

"Yes, it's me." Her voice sounded downright cheerful-and more than a little forced.

"What are you doing at my parents' place?" he asked gruffly.

"Visiting."

Again he paused, as if he wasn't sure what to make of this. "I'd like to speak to my father."

"I'm sorry, he and your mother stepped out of the room so you and I could talk."

"About what?" He hadn't warmed to her yet.

"Your calling ruins everything," she told him. "I was going to send you a telegram. My grandmother sent one to my grandfather sixty years ago."

"A telegram?"

"I know it's outdated. It's also rather romantic, I thought."

"What did you intend to say in this telegram?"

"I hadn't decided. My first idea was to say the same thing Helen said to my grandfather. It was a short message-just three little words."

"I love you?" He was warming up now.

"No."

"No?" He seemed skeptical. "What else could it be? Helen loved him, didn't she?"

"Oh, yes, but that was already understood. Oh, Paul, I heard the rest of the story and it's so beautiful, so compelling, you'll see why she loved him as much as she did. Sam helped her look to the future and step out of the past."

"You're avoiding the question," he said.

That confused her for a moment. "What's the question?"

"Do you love me enough to accept me as a marine?"

"I wasn't sending that answer by way of Western Union." The answer that was going to change her life...

"You can tell me now," he offered casually.

"Before I do, you have to promise, on your word of honor as a United States marine, that you'll never walk away from me like that again."

"You think it was easy?" he demanded.

"I don't care if it was easy or not, you can't ever do it again." His abandonment had hurt too much.

"All right," he muttered. "I promise I'll never walk away from you again."

"Word of honor?"

"Word of honor," he agreed.

He'd earned it now. "I'm crazy about you, Paul Gordon. Crazy. Crazy in love with you. If having the marines as your career means that much to you, then I'll adjust. I'll find a way to make it work. But you need to compromise, too, when it comes to my career. I can't just leave a teaching job in order to follow you somewhere."

The last thing Ruth expected after her admission was a long stretch of silence.

Then, "Are you serious? You'll accept my being in the military?"

"Yes. Do you think I'd do this otherwise?"

"No," he admitted. "But what you don't know is that I've been thinking about giving up the marines."

"Because of me?"

"Yes."

"You were?" Never once had it occurred to Ruth that he'd consider such a thing.

"My dad and I have had a couple of long talks about it," he went on to say.

"Tell me more."

"You already know this part-I'm crazy about you, too. I wasn't convinced I could find a way to live the rest of my life without you. One option I've looked into is training. I've already talked to my commander about it, and he thinks it's a good possibility I'd be able to stay in the marines, but I'd be stationed in one place for a while."

Ruth slumped onto a kitchen stool, feeling deliciously weak, too weak to stay upright. "Oh, Paul, that's wonderful!"

"I felt like a fool," he said. "I made my big stand, and I honestly felt I was right, but I didn't have to force you to decide that very minute. My pride wouldn't allow me to back off, though."

"Pride carried me the first week," she said. "Then I went to see my grandmother, and she told me how she met my grandfather at the end of the war. Their romance was as much of an adventure as everything else she told us."

"She's a very special woman," Paul said. "Just like her granddaughter."

"I'll tell you everything later."

"I can't wait to hear it. I'm just wondering if history might repeat itself," Paul murmured.

"How?"

"I'm wondering if someday you'll be my bride."

"That's the perfect question," Ruth said, and it was perfect for what she had in mind.

She closed her eyes and sighed deeply. "I do believe I'll send you that telegram after all."

Yes. Yes. Yes.

Helen Shelton

5-B Poppy Lane

Cedar Cove, Washington

May 9 Dear Winifred, It's time to celebrate-your birthday and my granddaughter's engagement. Yes, Ruth has agreed to marry Paul Gordon, the young man she introduced me to in April. They've decided to have a December wedding in Oregon, where her family lives. Paul is a fine young man and I feel she's chosen well.

Yes, my dear friend, I'll meet you in Seattle and we'll board the ferry for Victoria together. It's been far too long since we've had an extended visit. I'm looking forward to hearing about your granddaughters.

I'm feeling good. Ruth and my sons know all about my war adventures. It was time, as you've been telling me all these years. Ruth has the tapes and is making copies for everyone in the family. She claims this is more than family history, this is history. Maybe she's right....

I'll see you next week.

The warmest of wishes,

Helen

LIBERTY HALL.

Lois Faye Dyer

Acknowledgments.

My thanks to explosives expert Skeeter Burnett

for sharing his knowledge; to Paula Eykelhof,

Meg Ruley and Christina Hogrebe for their

compassion and understanding; and to my

critique group, my children, sisters,