“Yes, perfect.” He sent up a quick prayer that she wouldn’t probe further, but guilt jabbed him. Should he really pray for God to conceal his lack of focus during a sermon? He took a step of courage, into honesty. “Actually, I was distracted.”
Her gaze swung to Arch, and she gave Jim a sympathetic smile. “It’s been quite a week, especially with theGreerincident.”
Jim had failed again. Couldn’t she see he’d been distracted by her, not by his best friend’s heartbreak or even an international naval incident?
Arch was already talking about the injustice of it, funneling his personal anger into the story—how a German U-boat had fired upon the destroyer USSGreerin the North Atlantic, and how theGreerhad fired back with depth charges.
Jim’s own anger hardened into a lump. He knew a fellow on theGreer, and someone had tried to kill him. Why Congress hadn’t immediately declared war, Jim didn’t know, but they hadn’t. No ships had been sunk. No sailors harmed.
Mary clutched her purse to her stomach. “I’m surprised we aren’t at war.”
Jim sighed. “That’s all anyone’s talked about on theAtwood—how many men have to die to tip the balance?”
She gazed up at them as if relaying a confidence. “I’ve heard men at the Navy Yard say we fired deliberately, either to enrage Germany into declaring war on us, or to enrage the American public into calling for war ourselves.”
Some of the sailors did talk about provoking an incident, but talk didn’t mean action, especially when their own lives would be at stake. “I don’t believe that for a second.”
“Me neither.” Mary adjusted her hat, a little straw thing with flowers on it. “Will you be in town long? I know you can’t give me specifics...”
Jim put on his cover. “A bit longer. The Navy’s adding new equipment and loading us up with supplies. New crew members too.”
He and Arch exchanged a glance. They couldn’t say they’d taken on a full load of live ammunition. They couldn’t say they’d soon escort a convoy from Newfoundland to Iceland, with British ships relieving them at the Mid-Ocean Meeting Point. They couldn’t say they might end up in an international naval incident themselves.
A pretty young redhead came down the steps and approached Mary, turning her shoulder to exclude Jim and Arch. “I was so surprised to see you in choir this morning. I was afraid you’d faint.”
Jim’s hands coiled around the hem of his white tunic. She had to be Claudia, the soprano diva Mary avoided.
Mary gave Claudia a stiff smile. “Edith and Bertha prayed with me beforehand.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were angling for a starring role in the Christmas pageant.”
“Oh, never,” Mary said with force.
“Good.” Claudia patted Mary’s arm. “As I’m sure you know, the role of Mary has always been played by a soprano, and you and I are the only ones young enough.”
“Don’t worry. Your role is safe.”
Jim smiled at the sarcasm in Mary’s voice.
“I know, but I’d hate to see you disappointed.” She fluttered a wave at Mary and departed.
Arch tapped Mary on the shoulder. “Why didn’t you introduce us? I’m single now, and she’s my kind of woman. Such kindness. Such sincerity.”
Jim joined Mary’s laughter. Good. Arch was already switching back from melancholy to charm.
Two tiny elderly ladies came out and headed straight for Mary. “There’s our girl,” one of them said, clasping Mary’s hand. “We’re so proud of you, dear.”
Now Mary’s smile was relaxed and true. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Oh, you must meet my friends, Jim Avery and Arch Vandenberg. Jim and Arch, please meet Bertha Wilkins and Edith Wilkins.”
Bertha shook Jim’s hand. “Well, Mary, aren’t you blessed to have two handsome young men fighting over you?”
Mary’s laughter rivaled the pealing church bell. “Not like that, Bertha. They’re my friends.”
Jim winced. Maybe he was the only one who wanted that to change.
Edith peered up at Arch. “Are both you boys single?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Arch’s eyes sparkled.
