Brian and Carley had to be home before eight because of their babysitter, so they left the restaurant first.

Ruth had enjoyed the spicy enchiladas, the margarita and especially the teasing between Paul and Brian. Carley had told story after story of the two boys and their high-school exploits, and they'd all laughed and joked together.

Paul and Ruth lingered in the booth over cups of dark coffee, gazing into each other's eyes. He'd switched places so he could sit across from her. If she'd met him under any other circumstance, there'd be no question about her feelings. None! It was so easy to fall in love with this man. In fact, it was already too late; even Paul's mother had seen that. Ruth knew him. After all the letters and e-mails, all the conversations, she felt as if he'd become part of her life.

"I know what you're thinking," Paul said unexpectedly.

"What am I thinking?" she asked with amusement.

"You're wondering why I find life in the military so attractive."

She shrugged. "Close."

"Do you want to know my answer?"

Ruth was already aware of his reasons, but decided to hear him out, anyway. "Sure, go ahead."

"I like the structure, the discipline, the knowledge that I'm doing something positive to bring about freedom and democracy in the world."

This was where it got troubling for Ruth.

Before she could state her own feelings, Paul stopped her. "I know you don't agree with me, and I accept that, but I am who I am."

"I didn't challenge that-I wouldn't."

He stiffened, then reached for his coffee and held it at arm's length, cupping his hands around the mug. "True enough, but the minute I started talking, you looked like you wanted to challenge my answer."

She hadn't known her feelings were that transparent.

"I guess now is as good a time as any to ask where I stand with you."

"What do you mean?" An uneasy feeling began to creep up her spine. They had only a couple of days before he was scheduled to leave, and she was going to need every minute of that time to concentrate on this relationship.

"You know what I'm asking, Ruth."

She did. She met his eyes. "I'm in love with you, Paul."

"I'm in love with you, too." He stretched his hand across the table and intertwined their fingers.

Her heart nearly sprang out of her chest with happiness and yet tears filled her eyes.

To her astonishment, Paul laughed. "This is supposed to be a happy moment," he told her.

"I am happy, but I'm afraid, too."

"Of what?"

"Of you leaving again. Of your involvement in the military. Of you fighting in a war, any war."

"It's what I do."

"I know." Still, she had a hard time reconciling her emotions and beliefs with the way Paul chose to make his living.

"But you don't like it," he said, his voice hard.

"No."

He sighed harshly. "Then tell me where we go from here."

Ruth wished she knew. "I can't answer that."

His eyes pleaded with her. "I can't answer it for you, Ruth. You're going to have to make up your mind about us."

She'd known it would come down to this. "I'm not sure I can. Not yet."

He considered her words. "When do you think you'll be able to decide?"

"Let's wait until you've finished your training and we see each other again.... We'll both have a better idea then, don't you think?"

"No. I might not be coming back to Seattle. I have to know soon. Now. Tonight." He paused. "I sound unfair and pushy, and I apologize."

"Apologize for what?" she asked. Her hand tightened around his fingers. Already she could feel him pulling away from her, if not physically, then emotionally.

"I've been trained to be decisive. Putting things off only leads to confusion. We've been writing for months."

"Yes, I know, but-"

"We've spent every possible minute of my leave together."

"Yes..."

"I love you, Ruth, but I won't lie to you. I'm not leaving the marines. I've chosen the military as my career and that means I could be involved in conflicts all over the world. I have to know if you can accept that."

"I..."

"If you can't, we need to walk away from each other right now. I don't want to drag this out. You decide."

Ruth didn't want a part-time husband. "I want a man who'll be a husband to me and a father to my children. A man of peace, not war." She didn't mean to sound so adamant.

Paul didn't respond for a long moment. "I think we have our answer." He slid out of the booth and waited for her. They'd paid their tab earlier, so there was nothing to do but walk out the door to the parking lot.

Ruth wasn't finished with the conversation, even if Paul was. "I need time," she told him.

"The decision's made."

"You're pressuring me," she protested. "I've still got two days, remember?"

"It doesn't work that way," he said.

"But this isn't fair!"

"I already admitted it wasn't." He opened the passenger door, and a moment later, he joined her in the car. "I wish now I'd waited and we still had those two days," he said bleakly. "But we don't."

He started the car and Ruth noticed that his fingers had tensed on the steering wheel.

Ruth bit her lip. "Sure we do. Let's just pretend we didn't have this conversation and enjoy the time we have left. You can do that, can't you?" Her voice took on a pleading quality.

"I wish I could, but...I can't." He inhaled deeply. "The decision is made."

They didn't have much to say during the rest of the ride to the university district. When Paul pulled up in front of the rental house, Ruth noticed the lights were on, which meant Lynn was home.

They sat side by side in the car without speaking until Paul roused himself to open the car door. He walked around to escort her from the passenger side. Silently he walked her to the porch.

Ruth half expected him to kiss her. He didn't.

"Will I see you again?" she asked as he began to walk away.

He turned back and stood there, stiff and formal. "Probably not."

"You mean this is it? This is goodbye...as if I meant nothing...as if we were strangers?" She felt outraged that he could just leave her like this, without a word. It was unkind and unfair...and life wasn't that simple.

"Is there anything left to say?" he asked.

"Of course there is," she cried. She didn't know what, but surely there was something. Hurting and angry, Ruth gestured wildly with her arms. "You can't be serious! Are you really going to walk away? Just like that?"

"Yes." The word was devoid of emotion.

"You aren't going to write me again?"

"No."

This was unbelievable.

"Call me?"

"No."

She glared at him. "In other words, you're going to act as if you'd never even met me, as if I'd never mailed that Christmas card."

A hint of a smile flickered over his tightly controlled features. "I'm certainly going to give it my best shot."

"Fine, then," she muttered. If he thought so little of her, then he could do as he wished. She didn't want to be with a man who didn't care about her feelings, just his own.

Nine.

True to Paul's word, Ruth didn't hear from him after their Tuesday-night dinner with Carley and Brian. The first day, her anger carried her. Then she convinced herself that Paul would contact her before he left for Camp Pendleton. Not so. Paul Gordon-correction, Sergeant Paul Gordon, USMC, was out of her life and that was perfectly fine with her. Only it wasn't.

A week later, as she sat in her "Theories of Learning" class, taking notes, her determination faltered. She wanted to push all thoughts of Paul out of her mind forever; instead, he was constantly there.

What upset her most was the cold-blooded way in which he'd dismissed her from his life. It seemed so easy for him, so...simple. She was gone for him, as if she meant nothing. That hurt, and it didn't stop hurting.

Ruth blinked, forcing herself to listen to the lecture. If she flunked this class, Paul Gordon would be to blame.

After class she walked across campus, her steps slow and deliberate. She felt no urge to hurry. But when her cell phone rang, she nearly dropped her purse in her eagerness. Could it be Paul? Had he changed his mind? Had he found it impossible to forget her, the same way she had him? A dozen more questions flew through her mind before she managed to answer.

"Hello?" She realized she sounded excited and breathless at the same time.

"Ruth." The familiar voice of a longtime friend, Lori Dupont, greeted her. They talked for a few minutes, and arranged to meet at the library at the end of the week. Four minutes after she'd answered her cell, it was back in her purse.

She was too restless to sit at home and study, which was how she'd spent every night since her last date with Paul, so she decided to go out. That was what she needed, she told herself with strained enthusiasm. Find people, friends, a party. Something to do, somewhere to be.

Although it was midafternoon, she took the bus down to the waterfront, where she'd met Paul the first night. That wasn't a smart idea. She wasn't up to dealing with memories. Before she could talk herself out of it, Ruth hopped on the Bremerton ferry. A visit with her grandmother would lift her spirits in a way nothing else could. Besides, if Helen felt strong enough, she wanted to hear the rest of the story, especially the role her grandfather had played.

As she stepped off the foot ferry from Bremerton to Cedar Cove, it occurred to Ruth that she should've phoned first. But it was unlikely her grandmother would be away. Even if she was, Ruth figured she could wander around Cedar Cove for a while. That would help fill the void threatening to swallow her whole.

The trudge up the hill that led to her grandmother's house seemed twice as steep and three times as long. Funny, when she'd been with Paul, the climb hadn't even winded her. That was because she'd been laughing and joking with him, she remembered-and wished she hadn't. Alone, hands shoved in her pockets, she felt drained of energy.

Reaching 5-B Poppy Lane, she saw that the front door to her grandmother's duplex stood open, although the old-fashioned wooden screen was shut. The last remaining tulips bloomed in primary colors as vivid as the rainbow. Walking up the steps, Ruth rang the doorbell. "Grandma! Are you home?"

No one answered. "Grandma?"

Alarm jolted through her. Had something happened to her grandmother? She pounded on the door and was even more alarmed when a white-haired woman close to her grandmother's age came toward her.

"Hello," the older lady said pleasantly. "Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for my grandmother."

The woman unlatched the screen door and swung it open. "You must be Ruth. I don't think Helen was expecting you. I'm Charlotte Rhodes."

"Charlotte," Ruth repeated. "Helen's spoken of you so often. It's wonderful to meet you."

"You, too," Charlotte said, taking Ruth's hand. "I'm happy to make your acquaintance."

Ruth nodded, but she couldn't help blurting out, "Is anything wrong with my grandmother?"

"Oh, no, not at all. We're sitting on the patio, talking and knitting. Helen's counting stitches and asked me to get the door. She assumed it was a salesman and my job was to get rid of him...or her." Charlotte laughed. "Not that I'm much good at that. Just the other day, a Girl Scout came to my door selling cookies. When I bought four boxes, she announced that every kid comes to my house first, because I'll buy anything. Especially for charity."

Ruth grinned. "I think my grandmother must be like that, too."

"Why do you think she sent me to the door?" Charlotte joked. "Your grandmother's decided to knit a Fair Isle sweater. It's her first one and she asked me over to get her started."