Title: To Love Again – A Christmas Story

Author: Audrey Higgans

E-mail: audrey.higgans@tiscalinet.it

francescoterranova2@tin.it

Rating: PG 13

Classification: Romance Harm and Mac 

Spoilers: Anything up to season 8 except ‘All Ye
Faithful; particular references to Gypsy Eyes and TRWL

Summary: Christmas has lost its magic for Harm. Can he
stop looking back and forgive himself? Will he ever
learn to love again?  



Disclaimer: JAG, its characters and premise are the
exclusive property of Bellasarius Productions,
Paramount Television and CBS Entertainment. No
monetary gain is appreciated from this endeavor, nor
is any copyright infringement intended. This story is
created purely for recreational purposes. 



Author's note: Christmas is a beautiful season but for
some of us it also evokes a bittersweet feeling
connected with past events in our lives which may or
may not have been resolved in the best of ways. I am
one of those people and I must confess I needed some
cheering up. Writing this helped immensely. I dedicate
this story to all JAG fans, shippers and non. Merry
Christmas to all of you and may God bless you and your
families. A heartfelt thank you goes to my wonderful
beta reader and friend Kim. Feedback is always
appreciated though never expected.

********************************************************************************************************************




“Christmas in Hawaii? Are you kidding?” In her office
at JAG headquarters Lt. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, or
Mac, as she preferred her friends to call her stared
in consternation at Harm, her best friend and partner
for the past seven years, as if he had suddenly grown
an extra head.  



The animated look on Harm’s face changed to one of
hurt and disappointment and he flushed in
embarrassment. “I thought it would be a nice change. I
guess I was wrong.”  



Turning on his heels he left, heading straight for his
office, feeling like a first class fool. What had he
been thinking? Just because he felt the need to
escape, it didn’t mean she had to feel the same way.
The season to be jolly had an uncanny way of making
him melancholy. Only one more week until the dreaded
day and the closer it got the more uneasy he became.
He barged into his cubicle and dumped the airline
tickets he had bought for them both into his
briefcase. Me and my bright ideas, he mocked himself.
Thinking she would jump at the chance of going on a
trip with him just because they had grown closer since
their mission in Afghanistan a few months ago was pure
insanity on his part. Admit it, Rabb, he told himself.
You’re certifiably mad. That’ll teach you to take her
for granted.  



“Harm, are you ok?” Mac stood at the door, her knock
alerting him to her presence. Her pretty features were
distorted into a frown of concern, her tone contrite.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to turn on you like that.
It’s just that I had plans for this Christmas, too.
You know I’m helping out with the children's Christmas
play at the Church of the Angels. And I wanted to
throw a party at my place on Christmas Eve with you
and me, and Bud and Harriet and little A.J. Hopefully,
even the Admiral if he’s not invited elsewhere. I
wanted it to be special.” 



“And what are we going to do? Sing Christmas carols
and pretend we’re all one big happy family?” Harm’s
reply was sarcastic as he stood with his back to her,
staring out the window.  



Mac swallowed hard and lowered her eyes. “Something
like that,” she answered in a small voice.  



For the second time in the space of a few minutes
Commander Harmon Rabb Jr. cursed himself for a fool.
His foot was definitely in his mouth again. It was
becoming a perfected art where Sarah MacKenzie was
concerned. Unlike him she looked forward to this time
of year and strove to make it as cheerful as possible
to make up for what she had never had as a child. He
sighed in frustration as he turned to face her.  



“You know, Mac, I think this madness surrounding the
Christmas season is highly overrated.” He walked up to
her and looked deeply into her gorgeous brown eyes,
ignoring the fact that anyone could see them from the
bullpen. “Come with me to Hawaii,” he urged, his own
eyes wide and pleading, his gaze lingering on her
delicate features. “Let’s leave all these stupid
Christmas traditions behind and just get away from it
all for a while. Can you imagine what it would be like
to just lie on the beach and soak up the sun all day?”
 



He could see she was tempted. He knew she was effected
by his nearness. Did the thought of taking their
relationship forward trouble her, too? She wasn’t that
easy to read although at the moment the stubborn set
of her mouth told him clearly that he wasn’t getting
anywhere.  



“Harm, I happen to love these Christmas traditions.
Spending Christmas in the sun sounds weird to me. It
just wouldn’t be the same. I’d miss putting up the
tree and shopping for presents and building a snowman
with A.J. Well, if it does decide to snow, that is.
And I would miss preparing dinner with Harriet. She’s
going to teach me how to cook spinach cannelloni this
year.” 



“Well, count me out,” Harm responded coldly, ignoring
her plea for understanding as he walked back to his
desk. “Does this mean that you don’t want to come with
me?” 



“Don’t put words in my mouth I didn’t say.”  



He nodded, giving her a blank look as he picked up his
briefcase and proceeded to the door. “Fine. I’ll find
someone else who will,” he replied quietly. “Excuse
me, but I have to be in court in five minutes.”  



******* 



“How on earth did I ever let you talk me into this?”
Mac spoke in a loud whisper as she nudged Lt. Harriet
Simms with her elbow. Casting the other woman an
exasperated glance she turned back to the, as yet,
empty stage. They were seated in the tiny hall located
at the back of the church and the din from behind the
scenes was getting rowdier by the minute. 



“Well, Father Ryley needed some help and I know how
good you are with children, Mac,” the petite blonde
whispered back. She had learned to drop the ‘ma’am’
when she and her son’s godmother weren’t at JAG
Headquarters but her smile was still nervous. “I
thought you wouldn’t mind helping out. He’s been so
nice to us ever since Bud and I lost baby Sarah and I
didn’t have the heart to refuse him.” 



“It’s ok, Harriet. You know me, all bark and no bite.”
Mac smiled back and patted the other woman’s hand
reassuringly. Harriet settled thankfully back in her
seat, wincing when her friend raised her voice without
warning.  



“What the he**** What is going on back there?” Mac
amended, remembering where she was just in time. She
brushed back her bob of silky brown hair in a gesture
of impatience. “You’re all supposed to be on stage
when the curtain rises.” A scuffling sound ensued,
followed by a series of shouts. Shaking her head Mac
climbed up the steps and went backstage.  



“He pushed me.” On Mac’s appearance, a little girl
pointed an accusing finger at the other youngster from
her position on the wooden floor, her big blue eyes
filled with tears. She was wearing a white angel’s
costume which went very well with her long golden hair
but the scowl she had plastered on her face at the
moment made her look anything but angelic.  



“Did not!” The little boy dressed in shepherd’s
clothes answered, his face puckering up. 



“Did too!” the angel retorted hotly. 



“Quiet!” Mac’s marine voice overrode that of the two
children and a group of twenty, unruly six-year-olds
stared up at her with a mixture of awe and
trepidation. Mac took a deep steadying breath and
helped the little angel up, dusting off her costume.
Then she pulled the two children aside and bent down
on her haunches, bringing herself to their eye-level.
“Now, suppose you tell me what happened?” 



“He pushed me,” the girl repeated.  



“You deserved it,” the boy replied, his lower lip
trembling. “You called me a loser.” 



Mac eyed the little girl sternly. “Did you really say
that?”  



“My mommy says the shepherd’s is the worst part to
have in the Christmas play. It’s much better to be an
angel or one of the wise men.” 



“Your mother is a gossip,” the boy said triumphantly,
not about to be intimidated. 



“All right, that’s enough.” Mac tried to keep a
straight face. She’d met the girl’s mother and tended
to agree with the boy but she wasn’t about to tell him
that. “Either you two apologize to each other or there
is not going to be a Christmas play at the Church of
the Angels this year,” she threatened. 



Two sullen pairs of eyes glared at Mac but she glared
right back.  



“I’m sorry I pushed you,” the boy mumbled finally,
looking at the floor. 



“I’m sorry, too,” the angelic look was back on the
girl’s face. Tears trembled on her lashes and with a
tiny whimper she turned tail and ran off to sit in the
corner. 



The dejected little boy looked at Mac, tears welling
up in his eyes. “Why doesn’t she like me?”  



“She does.” Mac wiped the tears with a tissue. She
felt like hugging him but didn’t want to embarrass the
little mite.  



“No, she doesn’t,” he countered. “We were best friends
but then I asked her if she would let me be her
boyfriend and she said she already has one.” 



“Oh, and who might that be?” Mac asked tenderly,
thinking how cute they both were, discussing a
possible boyfriend-girlfriend relationship at their
age.  



“One of the three wise men,” Matthew replied with a
pout. “Mac, could I be a wise man, too? I promise I’ll
be good. Then maybe she *will* let me be her
boyfriend.” 



Mac regarded the little boy for a second. Then she
leaned towards him and lowered her voice to a
conspiratorial whisper. “I think there’s something
your friend doesn’t know.”  



The little boy’s eyes were wide and alight with
curiosity. “What’s that?” 



“Well, when Baby Jesus was born, God told the angels
he wanted the shepherds to be the very first to know.
They had the honor of spreading the good tidings to
the rest of the people. And the wise men only got to
know about it after a very long time.” 



“Really? So God didn’t think the shepherds were
losers?”  



“No, he didn’t, sweetheart. In fact he thought they
were very special,” Mac answered. To her surprise, the
boy laced his chubby arms around her neck and kissed
her on the cheek.  



“Thanks Mac. I’ll go tell her.” He skipped off with a
happy smile pasted on his face and Mac marveled at how
quickly his mood had switched. His dark head was soon
bent close to the little angel’s blonde one as he
shared what he had just discovered. If only things
could be solved so simply between adults, she sighed. 




“Ok guys, let’s try this again.” Mac joined Harriet
once more and they both watched as the children
trooped onto the stage for the final scene of the
dress rehearsal. Mac signaled to Father Ryley who was
patiently waiting at the organ, wrapped up against the
cold in his coat and muffler. The sweet opening sounds
of Silent Night ended abruptly on a sour note when the
poor priest sneezed four times in a row. All the
children burst out laughing. Harriet and Mac hid their
smiles but when Father Ryley blew his nose most
effectively the children laughed even harder and the
two women joined in helplessly.  



“Sorry about that, Colonel.” Putting his large
handkerchief back in his pocket, Father Ryley turned
his watering eyes back to the organ and resumed his
playing.  



******* 



Harm did contact some friends of his over the next
couple of days. They were all very nice about it but
as soon as they heard he was planning to leave on the
twenty-third of the month they all apologized
regretfully, saying that they would be spending
Christmas with their families. One ex-pilot buddy from
his flying days on the Seahawk did say he would have
loved to accompany him but he was getting married on
Christmas Eve. Slamming the phone down in disgust Harm
made up his mind to go to Hawaii on his own. But first
he had to inform his mother he wouldn’t be spending
the holidays in Washington after all. The least he
could do was tell her in person, he decided. Calling
the travel agency Harm made arrangements to leave for
Hawaii from San Diego on Monday.  



By early Saturday morning he was at the San Diego
International Airport and both his stepfather and his
mother were waiting for him there.  



“Frank, mom, you shouldn’t have come all the way out
here.” Harm grasped his stepfather’s hand in a firm
handshake and returned his mother’s hug
affectionately. 



“Well it’s not every day that my only son comes to
stay for the weekend. Is everything all right,
darling?” his mother asked suspiciously. 



“Does there have to be a reason for me to visit my
mother other than the fact that I missed her?” Harm
tried an attempt at humor.  



“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she replied. They
all smiled and it relieved the tension but his
mother’s glance was frankly skeptical.  



“I told Trish there was nothing to worry about but you
know your mother.” Frank clapped Harm on the back.
“Either way, it’s good to see you, Harm.” 



Back at his mother’s oceanfront home in the village of
La Jolla, Harm dropped on his bed and was out like a
light for several hours. He hadn’t slept much on the
plane and the sound of the surf beyond his bedroom
window was soothingly familiar. When he woke up, he
took a quick shower, not bothering to unpack. Donning
a black tracksuit and running shoes he joined his
mother on the patio overlooking the beach at the back
of the house. Frank was nowhere in sight. Harm knew he
was probably being his usual discreet self, giving
them some time to catch up with each other on their
own. 



As he sat opposite his mother, Harm could smell the
salt in the air and hear the cries emitted by the sea
gulls hovering overhead, forever on the lookout for
some unfortunate fish swimming too close to the
surface of the water. The beach stretched before them
in miles upon miles of uninterrupted coastline, the
indigo blue of the Pacific somewhat choppy. Despite it
being so late in the year the weather here wasn’t so
cold, unlike the almost freezing temperatures he had
left behind in Washington. It was pleasantly warm,
though slightly windy as he enjoyed a late breakfast
in the morning sunshine.  



“So, tell me the real reason you’re here,” his mother
demanded, eyeing him sternly. 



This time Harm knew she wouldn’t accept an evasive
answer. He slid his 6’4” frame lower in the wicker
chair, his long legs stretched out before him and
sipped at his orange juice, feeling like a reprimanded
ten-year-old again. His face broke into a lazy smile.
“I never could hide anything from you for long, could
I?” he murmured, his aquamarine eyes glinting with
amusement. 



“Nothing important anyway,” Trish responded with a
fond smile of her own. 



“I’m spending Christmas in Hawaii,” Harm stated
without preamble. 



“Really? That sounds nice. Who are you going with?
Anybody I know?” 



“I’m going alone.” 



“What?” His mother’s dismayed look reminded Harm of
the way Mac had gaped at him when he had invited her
to go with him. “Why on earth would you do that? I
can’t believe you really want to spend Christmas on
your own. Why don’t you ask Mac to go with you?” 



“Mac has other plans,” Harm said a little too quickly.
 



“So, you did ask her but she said no,” Trish guessed
shrewdly. “I take it she doesn’t approve of your
little escapade either.” 



Harm grimaced. Most of the women in his life had often
accused him of being an enigma but his mother had
always been able to read him like a book. He
straightened. His appetite had suddenly disappeared.
“Don’t start, mom.” 



Trish stood up and went to stand beside him as he
leaned on the wrought iron balustrade, his hands
clenching and unclenching the handrail. “Harm, I know
this is a hard time of the year for you because of
what happened to your father but how long is this
personal crusade of yours going to continue? What
about a serious relationship, marriage, a family? What
are you going to do when you have children of your
own? Forbid them to decorate the Christmas tree or to
take part in the school play?” 



Harm’s face flushed a deep red. Trish’s words touched
a raw nerve though he would never admit it to anyone,
least of all to his mother. He’d been thinking a lot
about the future lately, especially a future with one
woman in particular. But was he good enough for her?
She needed someone stable and he was so mixed up
emotionally. How could he possibly hope to impart the
magic of Christmas to his children if he couldn’t even
bear the thought of it himself? Everyone had a right
to dream but he had lost the ability to do so the day
he found out his father was dead. Couldn’t his mother
understand that? 



“I’m going for a walk on the beach.” He didn’t see the
worried look his mother sent his way as she watched
him saunter off, his broad shoulders hunched, his
_expression brooding. He was too preoccupied, locked
in a world of his own.  



God, he didn’t even have a body to mourn properly. His
father was buried somewhere in the silence of the
giant Taiga forest in Siberia. Was it his fault his
father’s plane had been shot down over North Vietnam
on Christmas Eve? 24 December 1969*** the date was
etched in his memory as if it were set in stone. His
mother had tried to make the holidays cheerful for him
after his father’s death when he was six. But to him
it had always been just bearable. Like so many other
children whose fathers were MIA he’d been haunted by
the unanswered questions, the ravaging uncertainty.
Was his father completely lost to them or could he
still be alive? That question had obsessed him into
adulthood.  



He’d finally found a good lead four years ago and, for
the second time, he had gone in search of his father
in Russia with Mac faithfully in tow only to discover
his father was dead. He had died bravely, defending
the honor of a kind Russian woman who had sheltered
him for two years after he managed to escape from a
POW camp. The problem was that even though he couldn’t
pinpoint exactly why, the knowledge of his father’s
fate hadn’t brought him closure. Rather, he had lost
control of his life after that. His quest for his
father had been a driving force inside him for so many
years. But the hope of finding him alive had been
taken away from him. The happy ending he’d envisaged
for so long had only been an illusion and it still had
the power to choke him up each time he thought about
it. And the darned Christmas season had a way of
bringing it all back. 



But this year he swore things would be different. He
had already informed Admiral Chegwidden he’d be away
for a few days. A change of scene was exactly what he
needed. To hell with all of them, he thought angrily.
He was sure it wouldn’t take him long to find some
company if he wanted to, once he was in Hawaii.  



Following this train of thought, Harm broke into a
jog. The jog slowly turned into a run and suddenly he
found himself running faster and faster. He ran on as
if the hounds of hell were after him, pushing himself
to the limit. The dry sand impeded his progress but he
didn’t stop. Sweat trickled down his brow as he
sprinted, temporarily blinding him but he wiped it
away impatiently, his whole body straining towards his
ultimate goal. The muscles in his powerful thighs
protested and his lungs felt ready to burst with the
effort. And as he ran on a wild cry burst out of him
filled with helpless anger and remorse. But the
beating of the surf muffled his shout and Harm
suddenly felt the futility of it all. His heart was
thumping madly as he slowed down to a jog and came to
a standstill. Palms resting on his knees, he fought to
catch his breath, painfully inhaling deep lungfuls of
the fresh salt sea air. He’d managed to tire himself
out physically but his heart was still heavy. Wearily,
he sank down on the sand, staring blankly ahead. No
matter how hard he ran he couldn’t run away from
himself. 



******* 



Driving south from San Diego, the cab traveled along
Highway 75 towards Silver Strand State Beach. As it
neared its destination, the scenic seven-mile stretch
of silvery sand failed to capture Mac’s attention. So
much for thinking Harm had wanted to spend Christmas
just with her. She wondered if he had found someone to
go with him on his damned trip. His words still stung,
even after three days. She supposed she ought to be
flattered that he had wanted to surprise her with the
tickets but she wasn’t, and with good reason.  



They were back to the ‘good friends’ scenario and she
didn’t know how much more she could take of this. Once
again she had slipped into the role of good old Mac,
his buddy, his faithful partner. Waiting for him to
give her a sign that he was aware of her as a woman
and not just as a friend was becoming unnerving. At
this rate they would both be old and gray by the time
he made up his mind to make a move, if he ever did.  



When would she ever learn? She’d thought he was about
to say something more when he’d regarded her so
intensely in his office. But she had dared to
contradict him and, lo and behold, he had clammed up
and left, head held high, his oversized jet jockey ego
bruised. The song lyrics blaring from an old
Carpenters song on the radio in the cab caught her
attention: 

“Are we really happy in this lonely game we play?

Looking for the right words to say.

Searching but not finding understanding anywhere.

We’re lost in this masquerade.”

They seemed so apt. What a pair they made. Both too
afraid to cross the line for fear of ruining their
relationship. And as for whether or not they were
really happy, she knew she wasn’t. She couldn’t fathom
why they kept acting as if there was nothing between
them but friendship. And Harm could be so
exasperatingly dense at times that she had to curb the
urge to shake some sense into him.  



So, what was she doing in a cab on her way to the
Burnett residence in La Jolla after a seven-hour
flight from Dulles? You’re here because you’re worried
about him, came the immediate response. And because
you care. Had there ever been a time when she hadn’t?
Try as she might she just couldn’t put this stubborn,
aggravating, complex, man from her thoughts for more
than a few seconds at a time. From the start, her
feelings for him had gone beyond friendship but he had
always retreated in the face of her clumsy attempts at
drawing him out as far as their relationship went.  



Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She had to exclude the
night of her engagement party a year and a half ago
when they had been celebrating her upcoming wedding to
another man. Luckily enough for all of them, the
wedding had never taken place and Mic, her erstwhile
fiancée, had gone back to Australia. Even he had seen
that her feelings for Harm ran too deep for her to be
able to contemplate a serious relationship with
anybody else. It seemed that the only person who
didn’t realize that was the object of her affections.
She touched her lips as she thought back to the moment
when he had kissed her so passionately before they
rejoined the others at the party. His kiss had shaken
her to her foundations but she suspected it had come
about because he had been facing the very real
prospect of losing her, or so he had thought. There
had been no repeat performance after that, much to her
chagrin. Only a brief kiss under the mistletoe last
Christmas but what did that count for? 



During their latest mission in Afghanistan, Harm had
used the excuse of the cold to get her to cuddle up to
him during the night. A night spent under the stars
after almost being blown away by a landmine. Granted,
their snuggling had only lasted a few minutes and then
all hell had broken loose when the bombs started
falling all around them. But he *had* issued an
invitation, she hadn’t dreamt that up. And later, when
things had quieted down, he had simply pulled her into
his arms and they had fallen asleep until morning in
the dry warmth of a cave he had discovered. It was
crazy but she almost wished they were still back
there. Despite the danger they’d found themselves in
he had seemed freer somehow and more open with her.
Back in Washington he had retreated into himself
again, hiding behind regs and protocol.  



The cab drew up at the address she had provided. Mac
stepped out and stretched her cramped limbs as she
surveyed the white, two-story adobe. It lay sprawled
amidst a green carpet of well-kept turf and a variety
of evergreen trees and shrubs. Whoever tended the
garden obviously did it as a labor of love, she mused.
 



As she made her way across the driveway she admired
the pink jasmine vines and purple bougainvillea that
trailed along the white stone walls and filled the air
with a heavenly perfume. The detached house with the
red sloping roof was a vacationer’s dream. Located a
little off the beaten path in a secluded spot away
from the beach crowds, it discreetly exuded the wealth
and success of its owners. It certainly wasn’t within
the possibilities of her bank account, Mac thought
nervously.  



Swallowing her agitation, she rang the doorbell. She
experienced a moment of panic as she waited, hoping
that by some strange coincidence no one would be home.
That way, she would go back to Washington and nobody
would be any the wiser. Then the door opened and it
was already too late. She found herself facing a
middle-aged man with a distinguished air who she
assumed was Frank Burnett.  



“Hi, I’m…” 



“Sarah MacKenzie! Please, come in.” Smiling broadly,
Frank ushered her inside the hallway and proceeded to
take her jacket and overnight bag. Mac’s stricken face
was a picture since to her knowledge they had never
met before. “I recognized you from the photos I’ve
seen of you and Harm with your godson,” he told her by
way of explanation. “I’ve heard so much about you from
my wife and Harm that I feel as if I know you already.
The others are out in the back.” He smiled down at her
and motioned her to follow him. 



They went through a series of rooms and Mac cast
admiring glances at the oriental carpets on the
polished parquet floors and the beautiful paintings on
the walls. She thought she spotted a Renoir as she
passed. The dark, hand-made, pine furniture in the
poor art style was mixed with a few modern pieces here
and there. There was an understated elegance to the
decor, which gave the atmosphere a certain charm
without being overly ostentatious. They reached a
large glass door and Frank pushed it open. Just then a
phone rang shrilly somewhere in the house.  



“I’ve been waiting for that phone call all morning,”
Frank admitted apologetically. “The garden is just
round the corner beyond the pool area. Trish and Harm
are both working there. Think you can make your way
over on your own? I’ll join you as soon as I’m
through.” 



Putting his mind at rest, Mac proceeded alone. She
followed Frank’s directions, circling a large
kidney-shaped swimming pool along the way, the cool
water reflecting the color of the turquoise tiles.
Reaching an area equipped with pool furniture and
umbrellas she heard the distinct sound of wood being
chopped. As she rounded the corner the sight that met
her eyes left her mesmerized.  



Harm stood with his back to her. With only an electric
blue tank top covering his muscled upper body and a
pair of faded jeans riding low over his lean hips, he
was the epitome of rugged masculine allure. A large
pile of logs lay stacked against the wall close to
where he was working. He must have been at it for some
time judging by the heap of chopped lumber in the
wicker basket near his feet. Mac’s pulse quickened and
her breath caught as she watched in fascination. Harm
swung the axe high into the air and the corded muscles
in his shoulders and arms bunched with the effort.
What she could see of him was glistening with sweat. A
warm, fuzzy sensation started at the pit of her
stomach. She couldn’t help staring as he brought the
axe down in one fluid movement and split the piece of
wood perfectly in half. He bent down to pick up
another log from the pile beside him and seemed to
sense that someone was watching him. 



“Mac?”  



She could swear she caught a glimpse of pleasure in
his surprised blue eyes before the shutters came down
and his classically handsome features took on an
unreadable _expression.  



“I*** you left Washington so quickly I didn’t get a
chance to talk to you***I was worried,” she stated
haltingly, sensing his wariness.  



“I’m fine.” Harm replaced the axe against the wall.
There was a trace of weariness in his tone and Mac
wasn’t sure if it was due to the physical exertion
he’d been engaging in or her presence in his mother’s
home. She was a long way from Washington. 



“This is a mistake,” she mumbled, her uncertainty
mounting. “I*** I should have called you first.” She
was beginning to regret her hasty decision to come
here. Acting on impulse had always been one of her
worst faults. It had landed her in awkward situations
before and the present one was no exception. Harm
avoided her eyes and picked up his discarded flannel
shirt. As he slipped it on, his disturbing gaze moved
to a spot behind Mac’s shoulder and became even more
guarded.  



“Mac, what a lovely surprise! Harm didn’t tell us you
were coming.”  



Turning her back on Harm, Mac braved a smile and
returned his mother’s greeting. “Hello ma’am. Harm
didn’t tell you anything because he didn’t know it
himself. I’m afraid I acted a little impulsively.” 



“Well, I for one am glad you did,” Trish replied
warmly. “And you know I like you to call me Trish.
Your ‘ma’am’ makes me feel ancient.” Removing her
working gloves, Trish took Mac’s hands in hers. “Oh,
your hands are so cold. You need something to warm you
up. A hot cup of tea should do the trick, or would you
prefer coffee?” Linking her arm with Mac’s, Trish
regarded her son who had witnessed their exchange in
silence. “Harm, darling, bring the firewood inside,
will you? I think you’ve chopped enough to last us all
winter.” Turning her amused eyes on Mac she led the
way inside. 



Mac spared Harm a backward glance but a sardonic lift
of one eyebrow was all she received in answer. You
invited yourself over, you might as well deal with the
consequences, his look seemed to say. Then he
disappeared to another area of the house, his arms
laden with chopped wood, and Mac was left alone with
his mother.  



“It’s so good to see you,” Trish exclaimed as she sat
across from Mac on the cream colored sofa in the
spacious living room.  



At least someone seemed genuinely happy about her
arrival, Mac thought. She smiled back and tried not to
show how uncomfortable she felt. “Thank you, Trish.
It’s good to see you, too. Your home is absolutely
lovely,” she added with a sweep of her hand.  



The room was done in soft earth tones, both calming
and pleasing to the eye. The delicate drapes at the
windows, the cushions on the sofa and the two matching
armchairs and even the oriental rug lying in front of
the fireplace were all in mingling shades of green,
beige and soft browns. A huge Christmas tree in a gold
and red theme dominated the room, reaching almost to
the ceiling and a fire crackled merrily in the
magnificent stone fireplace next to it as they waited
for the maid to bring their tea.  



“Thank you,” her elegant hostess said graciously. “I
love a fire in the winter, even if it isn’t that cold
around these parts but, Lord knows, this room is big
enough to get drafty. I can’t believe it’s been over a
year since we saw each other. Let me see, the last
time we met was at the surprise birthday party Harriet
threw for Harm a year ago.” 



“That’s right.” Mac hid a smile as she recalled the
comical _expression on Harm’s face when they had all
jumped up and cried ‘surprise’, following his entrance
into Harriet’s apartment. They had lured him there
with the excuse that his little godson, A.J., was
running a fever and had been asking for him.  



“Remember the look on his face?” Trish’s eyebrows shot
up in amusement and they both smiled.  



“I was just thinking about it, actually,” Mac
admitted.  



Presently, the maid came in with their tea and set the
tray on the low coffee table. Trish had just started
pouring when Harm made his entrance. His dark hair was
still wet from the shower and he had changed into a
pair of black cotton trousers and matching silk shirt.
He strolled lazily towards them, his hands deep in his
trouser pockets. The designer shirt fit his broad
shoulders to perfection, enhancing his sheer male
magnetism. But then he would look good in sackcloth,
Mac thought. The fact that she worked with him side by
side every day at JAG didn’t stop her from
acknowledging how attractive he was. Harm was a
disturbing man, especially in his brooding,
preoccupied state. Slowly, he lowered himself into one
of the armchairs. Lifting one long leg, he casually
placed a foot over his knee, the material of his
trousers stretching across his muscled thighs. Mac
dragged her eyes away from his unconscious sexuality.
No use in mooning over what you can’t have, Mac, she
told herself as she savored her tea. 



“You’ll stay the night, of course.” Trish said after a
while.  



“Oh no, there’s no need. I booked into a hotel here
from Washington.” 



“Nonsense,” Trish continued. “There’s certainly room
enough in this house and anyway, we want you to stay.
Isn’t that right, Harm?” 



Mac turned her eyes to Harm’s. He’d been silent for so
long she was beginning to think he really was mad at
her. His gaze lingered on her pinched face for a
moment and then his face broke into the semblance of a
smile, the first one she had seen in days.  



“Please stay, Mac,” he said huskily. That was more
than enough for her. She smiled back at him
tremulously, visibly relieved. Maybe she had been
right to come after all. The silence stretched as
their eyes locked for a long moment and both seemed
startled when Trish broke it. 



“Harm, why don’t you show Mac to one of the guest
rooms upstairs,” she said softly. “I’m sure she’ll
want to freshen up before dinner.” 



“Good idea,” Harm returned smoothly. He stood up with
his customary catlike grace and Mac followed suit.
They retrieved her luggage and she went after him up a
flight of stairs. The landing, when they reached it,
gave off into a hallway on each side. Taking the one
to the left Harm opened a door and walked inside,
placing her bag on the bed. “Make yourself at home.”
He gave her a flash of even white teeth as he made to
leave. “Dinner’s at eight so you have plenty of time
to relax.” 



He was close. So close she could feel his body heat
and smell his musky cologne. She looked up into his
eyes. “Harm, are you sure it’s ok with you if I stay?”
she asked breathlessly. “I could easily leave if you
prefer to be alone. I don’t want to intrude.” She
didn’t know how beautiful she looked silhouetted
against the late evening light coming through the
window.  



“I’m glad you’re here,” Harm said in a low voice. He
looked down at her pensively. Then he reached out and
lightly caressed her cheek with his finger, making her
heartbeat quicken, a flicker of something she couldn’t
identify in his eyes. She had the distinct feeling he
wanted to say more but he seemed to think better of it
and before she could think of a coherent answer, he
was gone.  

 



****** 

 



Dinner turned out to be an informal affair. Harm
helped Frank barbecue some fresh fish for all of them
while Mac gave Trish a hand with the salads. Harm was
grateful that Frank didn’t probe into the reason for
his somber mood. They ate in the warmth of the living
room, the multi-colored lights of the Christmas tree
bathing the room in an intimate glow. Frank and Trish
both went out of their way to put Mac at ease. The
three of them seemed to have no trouble getting along
and Harm was content to let the conversation drift
around him since his mood wasn’t exactly sociable. He
hardly touched his food but drank more than his share
of the white Chianti his mother served with the fish. 




It wasn’t until his parents left for an appointment
with some friends of theirs for a game of bridge that
he really let himself relax. The firelight cast
mysterious shadows across the even planes of his face
as he sat on the carpet, his head resting against the
armrest of the couch. With his eyes closed he was
unaware that he looked more vulnerable somehow, more
defenseless.  

 



In the darkened room, he felt Mac’s eyes on him as she
observed him silently from one of the armchairs, her
dark gaze watching over him. It was a good feeling,
knowing she was there. She was one of the few women he
knew who seemed to know exactly when to say something
and when there was no need for words. His thoughts
went back to when he and Renee had been an item. Her
nervous chatter had always grated on his nerves when
he was in one of his moods. With Mac it was different.
The silences between them were never embarrassing.
They’d known each other for too long to feel
uncomfortable even if neither one of them felt like
saying anything. It was all right to just be quiet for
a while. With a start he realized that he was
comparing Mac to his former girlfriend. It was a
dangerous path to follow, one he had been pursuing too
often in the last few months. He sat up straight and
opened his eyes, staring moodily into the fire. 



“I like Frank,” Mac murmured after a while. 



Harm nodded. “He’s a good man.” And a patient one, he
added silently to himself, thinking of the hard time
he had given his stepfather when he’d first married
his mother and become a permanent fixture in his life.
 



“You were awfully quiet at dinner.”  



Harm turned the full force of his perturbed blue gaze
on her and then looked back into the fire. Mac left
her perch on the armchair and sank to sit beside him
on the carpet, gracefully curling her legs up under
her. She touched his arm, her eyes roaming over his
handsome profile.  



“Harm, talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.” 



Harm’s smile was bleak before he spoke. “I don’t know,
Mac. I just feel so lost at this time of year.” 



“Hey, I thought you said pilots never get lost, just
momentarily disoriented.”  



Harm’s lips turned slightly upwards at her teasing and
her smile was triumphant as she placed both hands on
her chest. “Whoa, I don’t believe it. Is that a smile
I see there, Commander?”  



Harm’s mouth flashed wider and he startled both her
and himself when he took her hand in his and brought
it to his lips. “You’re so sweet, Sarah,” he whispered
huskily, his eyes boring into hers.  



The touch and taste of her skin against his mouth sent
an electric jolt all through Harm’s body. Her eyes
were big and brown and soft and he felt a slight
tremor in the hand he was holding. She was so
beautiful, the wine colored top and trousers she wore
outlining her perfect figure, her soft hair falling
forward on her cheek. He wanted to kiss her and lose
himself in her softness. But it wasn’t his place to do
so. Harm swallowed and dropped her hand in confusion,
turning to look into the fire once more.  



“Tell me about your dad.”  



She knew him so well, Harm thought. He settled his
head back once again and with a sigh he gave in to her
gentle probing. “Every time somebody spoke to me about
him they told me what a fine man he was and how I
ought to be proud of him. But for a long time during
the first couple of years after he went missing all I
could feel was anger. I was angry because he didn’t
come back like he had promised to do.” 



“You were only six, Harm. That’s understandable,” Mac
murmured. 



“I remember the gift I bought him the Christmas he
went down,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “It
was one of those hang me up signs you put up in your
room.” 



“What did it say?” she asked curiously. 



Harm glanced at her and smiled despite himself. “I’d
rather be flying.”  



She made a face. “Trust you for that.”  



“I saved up for it for months. Cost me three dollars
at the time. But I wanted it to be my present for him
and I didn’t want mom or anyone else to help me buy
it.” His voice was tempered with sadness. “Everything
was so normal that day, Mac. Mom was up early to
prepare a special dinner. The house was decorated and
we had a Christmas tree and the house was full of
friends and family. I had on my best suit and mom kept
licking her hand and patting my hair with her damp
palm to try and keep it in place.” 



She grinned. “I’ll bet you hated that.” 



Harm raised an eyebrow. “I hated dressing up, period.”
He pulled his legs up and placed his elbows on his
knees, his hands hanging loosely in the middle.  



“And then the doorbell rang. I went to look out the
window and I saw a strange car outside. When I saw the
two men in winter uniforms coming towards our front
door I knew something was wrong. By the time I ran to
my mother’s side they had already broken the news to
her.” He paused as the painful memories washed over
him.  



Mac touched his arm. “Go on.” 



“She fainted.” Harm rubbed his hands across his face.
“Christ, for a terrible moment I thought she was dead.
Then someone came and picked her up and laid her on
the couch. No one really paid me much attention
because they were all concerned about mom’s condition.
When she finally came to she asked for me and then all
I remember is her clinging to me and crying. I felt so
damn scared and helpless.” 



Seeing his distressed state, Mac reached a hand up and
cupped the back of his neck in comfort, gently
kneading the tenseness she felt there. “I’m so sorry,
Harm,” she whispered. 



“I didn’t save him, Mac. If I had tried harder maybe I
could have done more. If only I had known more at the
time.” 



“Don’t go there, Harm.” Mac looked deeply into his
eyes. “You believed he could still be alive for so
many years. You spent your youth looking for him and
your adult life tearing yourself apart traipsing from
one corner of Russia to the other to find out the
truth. I was there, remember? I was with you when you
risked your life to find him. You did everything you
could, Harm. No one knows that better than I do. It’s
not your fault that you didn’t find him sooner.” 



“But if it isn’t my fault then why do I feel so
guilty?” He turned tormented eyes on her and Mac felt
a hand clutch at her heart at the pain she saw there.
“I’ve tried and tried to talk my way around it but at
the end of the day I still feel I didn’t do enough and
that if only I had been smarter I might have found him
while he was still alive.” 



“How could you do that? You didn’t have any leads!”
Mac tried to talk some sense into him as he got up and
went to stand in front of the tree.  



“That’s what makes it all the harder. There is a sane,
conscious part of me that knows there was nothing else
I could do. But the other part, the part that hounds
and torments me still plants doubts in my mind. Am I
going crazy, Mac?” 



Mac got up and moved to stand before him. Tenderly,
she reached up to caress his cheek. “It’s ok, Harm.
You feel guilty because you genuinely loved your
father and wish you could have done more but that
doesn’t make you a lesser person. You’re basically a
good human being.”  



He covered her hand with his and met her dark gaze for
a long moment, pondering her words. Then his mouth
lifted in one of his trademark lopsided smiles. “So,
I’m only basically good, huh?”  



“Well, there’s a lot you still have to work on, but
you’re getting there,” she teased.  



“How is it that you always have a saucy comeback at
the ready?” he asked in amusement, as he moved to put
another log on the fire.  



“I don’t know. I guess you inspire the comedian in
me,” she giggled as she plunked down on the sofa and
stifled a yawn. 



“It’s late,” Harm joined her, draping an arm on the
back of the couch. “Way past your bedtime, marine. Why
don’t you go and get some sleep. We have to be up
bright and early tomorrow morning.” 



“Don’t you mean today? It’s exactly 00.25. And what’s
so special about tomorrow morning?” 



“You’ll see,” he said mysteriously, wiggling his
eyebrows suggestively.  



Mac laughed softly. “That’s not fair. Now I’ll never
get to sleep.”  



“I promise you’ll love it,” Harm returned. Unable to
help himself he tenderly pushed back her hair from her
face. 



“What about you? You need to rest, too,” she murmured
softly. She was so very hard to resist Harm thought as
he looked into her eyes, which were large and luminous
in the firelight. 



“I’ll just sit here for a while and then I’ll be up
myself. Sweet dreams, Mac.” 



She stood up to leave and he glanced up at her from
his position on the sofa. Before he could realize her
intentions, she bent towards him again and for the
briefest of moments her perfume enveloped him as her
soft moist lips settled against his. “You, too, Harm,”
she whispered against his mouth. Long after she had
left, her sweet, intimate gesture stayed with him,
warming his cold heart and making him wonder if maybe,
just maybe there could be a future for them as a
couple. The thought kept him awake far into the night.




****** 

 


“Mac, it’s me. Are you awake yet?”  



Harm’s low voice and the knock on her bedroom door the
next morning woke Mac from a deep sleep she had only
succumbed to after a considerable amount of tossing
and turning the night before. Her internal clock told
her it was barely half past six. Wondering what he
could possibly want with her at this hour, she slid
out reluctantly from the warm cocoon of the bed.
Slipping on a robe over her nightgown, she groggily
made her way to the door. Sure enough it was Harm,
looking devastatingly attractive in blue jeans and a
white polo neck sweater. He also looked very much
awake. As her sleep glazed eyes roamed over the planes
of his face she noticed a tiny nick on his chin.
Probably a result of his early morning shave, she
thought irrelevantly.  



“Good morning, sunshine. You’re not dressed yet,” he
pointed out unnecessarily. 



She winced at his cheerful tone. Belatedly, she
realized the picture she must present. Smoothing back
her tousled hair, she went back to the bed and sat
down on the blue and beige rose-patterned quilt, which
matched the curtains at the window. Hiding a yawn, Mac
pulled the belt of her robe more tightly around her
waist. “Boy, when you say early you mean early.”  



“Are you always this grumpy in the morning?” he
teased, giving her a thousand watt smile as he
strolled into the room. 



She made a face. “No, you’re the one who’s too chipper
for his own good.”  



“We have a date with a boat at the harbor in half an
hour.”  



Her curiosity was piqued. “What boat?”  



“A whale watching boat.”  



“We’re going whale watching?” She jumped up, all
thoughts of sleep forgotten. “Oh Harm, I’ve always
wanted to do that. How did you guess?” She was wide
awake now and bubbling with excitement. Placing her
hands on his arms she turned him round and playfully
pushed him out of the room. “I’ll be ready in no time.
Give me fifteen minutes.” 



Harm nodded, grinning from ear to ear at her
enthusiasm. “I’ll wait for you downstairs. Wear
something warm. It’s cold out,” he warned gently. 



“Yes, sir.” Her answering smile was cheeky but she was
secretly warmed both by the look he gave her and the
concern in his voice.  



She had been too preoccupied the night before and now
she was in too much of a hurry to give the pretty
white furnishings of the guestroom more than a cursory
glance. Her bare feet sank into the sinfully thick,
blue fitted carpet as she padded over to the blue and
white bathroom and took a quick shower. True to her
word, she flung on her red parka over a matching
sweater and a pair of black denims and was ready in
minutes and it wasn’t long before they were on their
way to San Diego Bay in Frank’s gray sedan. The sun
was up but a soft gray mist still hung in the air by
the time they reached the pier.  



Mac was worried that their cruise might be spoiled.
“Won’t it be hard to see anything in this, Harm?” 



“A little fog is normal around these parts at this
time of the day, Mac. Don’t worry. It’ll clear in an
hour or so.”  



There was a hushed expectancy as they stood in the
midst of the small group of early risers who, like
them, were waiting for * Whalesong*, the fifteen-meter
catamaran docked close by, to take them out on the
bay. The slight nip in the air made Mac dig her hands
deeper into the pockets of her parka. Harm noticed and
reached out to pull the zipper of her jacket up
tighter, lifting the collar around her neck to ward
off the chill. It was a thoughtful, intimate thing for
him to do and a shiver coursed through Mac more from
the caring look he sent her way and the brush of his
fingers against her chin and throat than from anything
else.  



There was a strange breathless catch to his words.
“Can’t have you catching cold.” 



Mac met his intense gaze and her heart skipped a beat
at what she glimpsed there. She had to admit his eyes
were his best feature. They tended to change according
to his moods or the color he wore. Right now they were
an intriguing blue-green beneath their fringe of thick
black lashes, and their piercing intensity unsettled
Mac’s piece of mind. His eyes were often shuttered and
mysterious but at times, like now, they seemed to
reveal his innermost feelings and she saw a mixture of
tenderness and something else that gave her foolish
heart reason to hope.  



*I love you*, she thought. God help me, I love you so
much.  



She wrenched her eyes away when a young boy came up to
them with bright yellow slickers to wear and the
moment was lost. But the warm, bittersweet feeling
stayed with her, intensified by the disturbing touch
of his palm against the small of her back as they
boarded. She could still feel the imprint when he took
his hand away. As Harm guided her to a small table
near one of the large windows she was momentarily
distracted when she noted, to her unconcealed delight,
that the *Whalesong* had a glass bottom for underwater
viewing. Shortly after they sat down, Mac felt the
whir of the engines beneath her feet and the vessel
was soon cruising over the dark blue swells.  



She sighed happily. “I just love the ocean, don’t
you?”  



Harm’s grin was a little lopsided. “Don’t tell me
there’s a squid hiding beneath all that semper fi
marine bravado?”  



The table was small and his long legs were stacked
close to hers beneath the small confines as he sat
across from her. Was he as affected as she was, she
wondered? The body heat penetrating through the
barriers of their clothing was doing funny things to
her stomach and she turned her head to peer outside at
the watery landscape to avoid his eyes. Her throat was
dry and her heart was thumping madly in her chest,
preventing her from coming up with a suitably witty
answer. Fortunately for her, breakfast was announced
and Harm got up to get it for them. The silence
protracted as they drank the hot coffee and munched on
the steaming croissants.  



“Aren’t you supposed to book beforehand for something
like this?” Mac pushed her empty cup away and turned
sideways in her chair to avoid further physical
contact with him.  



“I have friends in high places.” His dry humor brought
forth an answering smile from her. “The boat owner is
a friend of mine.” 



“Oh. How do they know for sure we’ll get to see the
whales?” 



“They don’t, but you get another trip for free if
you’re not lucky. The gray whales migrate all the way
from Alaska through these waters from December through
early April. They come here to mate and give birth so
we shouldn’t have too much trouble spotting a few. You
just have to watch out for spouts.” 



Her smile was impish. “Aye, aye, Captain Ahab.”  



Harm raised an eyebrow. “You think I’m obsessed like
Melville’s famous sea captain?” 



She cocked her dark head at him. “Some.” Her voice was
teasing but his face turned suddenly serious and she
realized he was probably thinking about his father
again.  



“You’re probably right.” 



“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.” 



“That’s ok. It’s not your fault if the Christmas
season gives me the blues.”  



They were quiet for a while as they moved to stand by
the windows and stared at the hypnotic trail of white
foam the boat left in its wake. Then Harm changed the
subject to a safer topic.  



“So how’s the Christmas play coming along?” 



Mac rolled her eyes and a smile lit up her features.
“Don’t ask.” 



“That bad, huh?” Harm’s eyes twinkled down at her as
he towered over her by a good seven inches. 



“Yeah. I spend more time trying to keep them from
squabbling over every little thing than anything else.
But when I see them acting out their parts and listen
to them sing in those angelic voices I just forget all
about it. I don’t know why but I always associate
Christmas with children. They’re still innocent enough
to believe and can afford to dream no matter how
impossible or unlikely those dreams may be. I suppose
I like being around them because I hope that some of
the magic will rub off on me.” 



“And what about you, Mac? Do you have impossible
dreams?” 



His softly spoken question caught her off guard but
she didn’t back away from it. Her dark gaze met his.
“I like to think they might come true some day.”  



A shout from one of the passengers caught their
attention when a whale was spotted. Reluctantly, Mac
turned round and walked towards the deck, wondering if
he knew she was talking about their convoluted
relationship. She suspected he did. He wasn’t that
dense. She felt his eyes boring into her back as he
followed her outside.  



They spent the rest of the tour out on deck with the
other passengers, marveling at the beauty of the
immense, graceful creatures and taking numerous
pictures. The light wind whipped at their faces but
they didn’t mind. Protected from the sea spray by the
slickers they wore, Harm and Mac listened with
interest to the running commentary from an experienced
crewman and enjoyed the inspiring opportunity of
seeing these magnificent mammals up close. At one
point a few of the bolder passengers were being
lowered into a small raft for a closer encounter.  



“Can we go?” Mac was practically begging, eyeing the
raft with longing.  



Harm looked skeptical but when she turned puppy dog
eyes on him he relented. “All right, marine. But be
careful.”  



She managed to touch the head of one particularly
friendly whale and her childlike delight earned her a
wide grin and a wink from Harm as he immortalized the
image with his Polaroid. By early afternoon the wind
had picked up and the swells had grown larger. Much to
Mac’s disappointment, the captain announced it was
time to turn back.  



Seeing her crestfallen face Harm tried to cheer her
up. “We can come back, you know.” 



Mac looked up at him, a wistful quality to her smile.
How could she explain that she wanted this wonderful
day with him to last forever without betraying her
feelings completely? 



“How about some lunch, sailor? I’m starving.” 



“I was wondering when we’d get around to that,” he
teased. “Do you think you can wait until we dock or
shall I call the restaurant and have them prepare
ahead?” 



In the end he treated her to a sumptuous lunch of
seafood pasta at a lovely restaurant overlooking the
bay. When they were so full they couldn’t eat another
bite they took a walk along the ocean promenade and
afterwards they took a tour around the famous Birch
Aquarium. Mac loved it all but most of all she loved
the feeling of just being with him outside work and
seeing him so relaxed and carefree. As they walked
down the steps of the aquarium Mac turned to him, her
eyes bright and shining.  



“Oh, Harm, I had a wonderful time.”  



“There’s one last place I want to show you.”  



The sun was low on the horizon by the time they
reached the famous cluster of cliffs known as ‘the
clam’. On their way up Harm kept up a fast pace along
the steep rubble path but Mac had no trouble following
his lead. She noticed several signs prohibiting cliff
jumping and when they reached the point known as ‘dead
man’s’ she could easily understand why. She felt
slightly giddy as she looked down over the sheer drop,
which had to be more than one hundred feet. Far below
them the rough blue seas beat furiously against the
jagged black rocks reaching out above the surface like
giant teeth ready to devour anyone foolish enough to
challenge them.  



A tremor ran through Mac and she shivered. “I’ve heard
of people dying after jumping from up here.” 



“They knew the risks involved but they jumped anyway.
Crazy, huh?” 



Harm’s voice had a melancholy ring to it. Hands tucked
deeply into the pockets of his jeans, he stood facing
the biting wind, protected by his flight jacket. The
light from the setting sun glinted on his proud head,
bringing out the highlights in his short brown hair
and Mac longed to run her fingers through it. He cut a
lonely figure as he stood staring at the horizon. As
she studied his profile a multitude of feelings welled
up inside her, causing a tightening in her chest. She
ached to put her arms around him and comfort him but
he seemed so distant, just beyond her reach as he had
been for the past seven years. The words were out
before she could stop them.  



“And you, Harm? Are you too scared of the risks
involved?”  



There was no mistaking what she was referring to. Harm
turned to look at her and as she had anticipated, his
eyes were filled with sadness.  



“I risked my life looking for my father and what good
did it do me? In the end I lost him anyway. It
wouldn’t work, Mac.” 



“How do you know that?” She moved closer to him and
placed her hands lightly on his forearms, her voice
increasing in urgency. “Why are you so set against our
being together? What is it that’s stopping you? Each
time you touch me or look at me in a certain way I
feel, *I hope*, we’re making progress. But then you
back off and we’re right back where we started. Why
the push and pull, Harm?” She tried to read his eyes
but all she saw there was defeat.  



“I just don’t feel like putting everything we have at
risk for a brief affair. Because that is what it would
be, Mac. I’m a complicated man. So complicated I can
hardly understand myself half the time, let alone
explain to others why I am the way I am. You’d get
tired of dealing with my guilt and my obsessions and
then you’d leave me, just like everyone else has and
things would never be the same. *I* would never be the
same.” 



Mac gripped the lapels of his jacket in her small
hands and pulled him unresistingly towards her so that
their bodies stood flush against each other. Years of
frustration were gaining up on her and her brown eyes
sparkled with anger and hurt as they glared up into
his blue ones.  



“You’ve got it all worked out, haven’t you? Who gave
you the right to make all the decisions? How do you
know I won’t stick by you until the end? Haven’t I
proved that to you over and over? Why do you fight it
so hard? I know you feel this thing between us. Even
now, while you’re in the process of denying it, I can
see it in your eyes.” 



Harm’s hands came up and covered hers where they
rested against his chest, his eyes a cobalt blue.
“Mac, sweetheart, there are so many things you don’t
know about me.” 



“Please, Harm.” She pleaded with him unashamedly,
tears shimmering on her lashes at his endearment. She
was fighting for what she wanted most in her life and
she was past caring that she was probably humiliating
herself one more time.  



To her dismay Harm’s _expression changed before her
eyes and his look turned stormy. He pushed her away
from him, his hands grasping her forearms in a firm
viselike grip as he shook her. “You don’t know what
you’re letting yourself in for. Do you know what I did
the day my dad went down over ‘Nam after everyone else
went home? I went crazy. I pushed the Christmas tree
to the floor and tore down all the decorations. Then I
threw my gift for him into the fire. I still feel like
I want to do that sometimes. I go from guilt to anger
and back again. I’ll never forget the look on my
mother’s face when she came into the room and saw the
mess I had created.”  



“And what did she do?” Mac was crying openly as she
took in the self-loathing in his eyes. 



“Nothing,” Harm replied in a husky voice. “She just
took me in her arms and cried her eyes out. The same
way you’re crying, Mac,” he finished defeatedly.  



“And doesn’t that tell you anything?” Mac sighed as
she wiped at her tears in exasperation. “Oh Harm, when
are you going to start accepting that you’re only
human and that you have limits, too? You have
frailties and faults. You don’t know everything. You
make mistakes. You can’t be perfect all the time and
there are some things that are beyond your control no
matter how much you hate that.” 



“But I feel so guilty,” he flung her away from him
almost violently but she knew his anger was directed
at himself and not at her as he raked shaking hands
through his hair. “How do I get rid of that? It eats
away at me like a disease.”  



Mac’s tender heart went out to him. She knew she had
to find a way past his stubbornness. A way to show him
what a wonderful man he really was and how lucky she
was to have met him.  



“That probably stems from the fact that you felt
guilty when you were little, Harm. Somehow you felt
you had to make up for it. And you keep trying every
time you see someone who’s in trouble because in doing
so you feel as if you’re somehow compensating for not
having saved your dad in time. Once you start
accepting that instead of fighting it, you’ll feel
better.” 



“I don’t know, Mac.”  



He looked weary and tired and Mac wanted only to
comfort him and to show him how much she cared. And
she did it in the only way she knew how. Moving up to
him she took his face in her hands and pulled it down
towards her.  



“Why won’t you let me love you, Harm?” she whispered. 




Harm felt as if he were being pulled into the
tenderness of her doe-like eyes. He couldn’t resist
her touch. He closed his eyes and turned his hard lips
into her soft palm and as he kissed it he felt her
tremble. He looked down at her, his incredible eyes
tormented, willing her, expecting her to turn away but
she didn’t. Lost in the moment he bent his face to
hers and gently brushed her lips with his, like he’d
been tempted to do ever since she had come to him. His
kiss was soft, tentative, almost hesitant. Eyes
closed, he gently ran his tongue over the contours of
her mouth. When she linked her hands behind his neck
Harm gathered her close as if she were the most
precious thing in the world, his arms going round her
protectively. Placing his mouth on hers, he increased
the pressure slightly. She moaned right into his mouth
and opened up to him gladly and he slipped his tongue
inside her moist softness, entwining it with hers. A
hungry sound rumbled deep in his chest at her willing
response and he pulled her more closely against him.
Their tongues stroked and probed and explored a
territory that was familiar and yet so new. The
proximity of her soft body against his was the
sweetest form of torture. This was Mac, his friend,
his partner, and she was in his arms. It was a
sobering thought. Cold reality washed over him. Their
friendship was the one thing in his life besides work
that was good, and he hoped, lasting. He couldn’t risk
ruining everything. They had come too far for that.
Slowly, he raised his head and looked down into her
passion filled eyes, at her mouth, soft and swollen
from his kisses.  



“I’m sorry,” he whispered. Then he let her go and
turned away from her.  



“I’m not,” Mac replied boldly, feeling cold and bereft
now that his arms were no longer around her. “It’s
been a long time coming.” 



“Mac, the best thing is for us to remain friends.” 



“Friends?” Mac’s cry was almost hysterical. “You’re
asking for the impossible. Friends don’t kiss like we
just did. They don’t fill your mind to the exclusion
of all else until you feel you’re going crazy with
wanting.” She placed her palm on his back. “Please,
Harm. Why won’t you give us a chance?” 



He whirled round to face her. “Dammit Mac, because I
don’t want to hurt you. Can’t you get that into your
thick head?” 



“It’s too late. You already have,” she said brokenly.
Tears streaked down her cheeks and she made no attempt
to stop them. He started to say something but she
interrupted him, her eyes large and accusing, her
words tearing at his heart. 



“You know something? You’re right. You’re right to
feel guilty because you *are* to blame. But not for
all the things you mentioned. You’re to blame for
crushing a beautiful thing, which could have brought
us both so much happiness, before it even began. What
happened to your heart, Harm? Why isn’t it capable of
love?” 



“You’re wrong about me,” Harm returned, a haunted look
in his eyes. “I do love you.” 



“Do you?” Her voice was cold and empty and it was
almost his undoing. “I don’t think so. If you really
loved me you would trust me to love you back for the
rest of our lives. I thought I knew you, Harm, but
apparently I was wrong. I was wrong to come here and
to keep my hopes up after all these years. Take me
home. I’m going back to Washington.” 



He called out to her as she went down the path but she
didn’t turn back. And as he followed her to the car
the cold and emptiness was upon him again. It lasted
well after he was back in his mother’s home and he
could no longer see the taillights of the cab that
carried the woman he loved away from him. She was gone
and he was alone***again. 



******

Harm placed his luggage near the door and went in
search of his mother. It was time for him to leave. He
still had a couple of hours to go before his flight to
Hawaii but he figured the sooner he left the better it
would be for everyone concerned. He had wreaked enough
havoc to last a lifetime. Not finding Trish anywhere
on the ground floor he walked up the stairs with heavy
footsteps and went down the hall to his mother’s
bedroom. He hated to wake her up so early in the day
but he had no choice. On his way there he passed the
guestroom Mac had slept in. The door was ajar and
without giving it too much thought he slipped inside. 




Memories of the day before washed over him,
bittersweet and poignant. Had it only been twenty-four
hours since he had come to wake her up and take her
out for the day? His smile was sad. He would always
carry the image of her drowsy face with him wherever
he went. That was all he had left. Just memories and
might have beens. They would have to do now that she
had walked away from him. He had definitely screwed up
all his chances this time. And when he got back to
Washington he would probably have to see about a
transfer. It would be difficult for them to continue
working together after this.  



As he turned to leave something peeked out at him from
the place where the duvet on the bed met the carpet.
Crouching down he picked it up and saw it was a
picture of Mac. One of those taken on the boat the day
before when they had been lowered into the raft to get
a closer look at the whales. She must have missed it
in her hurry to leave. She was smiling, enveloped in
the bright yellow slicker, her big brown eyes seeming
to hide some secret delight of which only she was
aware. She looked so happy. He pondered her face a
long moment, then slipped the picture into his pocket
and went to find his mother.  



She was sitting on her bed and looked up when he
knocked. Harm’s brow furrowed with worry when he saw
she was crying.  



“Mom, are you ok? Shall I get Frank?”  



She shook her head. Harm entered the room in alarm and
crossed to sit next to her on the bed. Looking down at
her hands he saw she was holding a picture of herself
with his dad. In the photograph his mother was heavy
with child and there was no mistaking the happiness
and laughter as his parents held on to each other.
They had both been so young and the love between them
was there for all to see.  



Without warning, a feeling of shame knifed through
Harm. All this time he had been concentrating on his
own pain, taking his mother for granted and ignoring
the fact that she must have gone through so much more.
Not only had she had her own pain to deal with at the
time of his father’s disappearance, but she’d had to
find the courage to take care of a little boy of six
as well, and a difficult one at that.  



How hard had it been for her to face each Christmas
with a pretense at cheerfulness while inside her heart
must have been breaking? How hard had it been to deal
with a teenage son who wouldn’t accept that his father
was dead? A son who had harbored so many misgivings
against his kind and generous stepfather because he
saw their marriage as a betrayal. How difficult had it
been for his mother to get on with her life when her
son was always there, reminding her that he would find
his real father someday, somewhere, no matter what, no
matter how hard she tried to bury the past. It had
always been an unspoken battle between them. And each
time he went on another crusade for his father the
wound would be reopened. Until he had been faced with
the inconceivable and that had been the end of it. Or
had it?  



“I’m so sorry, Mom,” he whispered feelingly, his arm
going round her shoulders. 



“Don’t be, darling. It’s not your fault.” Trish wiped
at her tears and leant gratefully against her son’s
strong shoulder.  



“I put you through so much. I was too hard on you,” he
whispered hoarsely. 



There was so much he wanted to say but all that came
out were those two short sentences. His mother and he
had never really spoken about the rift his father’s
disappearance had caused between them. At first he had
been too young to understand and as he got older he
had convinced himself he understood only too well.
Trish was momentarily surprised at his show of
emotion. Her son usually kept everything locked up
inside himself, especially with her. Knowing this was
a rare moment of truth between them, Trish took his
free hand in both of hers, choosing her words
carefully.  



“We all have our way of dealing with grief, Harm. You
were so heartbreakingly young. You handled it in your
own way. You did what you thought was right at the
time. It gave you the strength to grow up and become
what you are today.” 



“I don’t know, Mom. Maybe I didn’t do such a good job
of that after all. I’ve become selfish and unfeeling.”
He found himself repeating the words Mac had thrown at
him. “And I’ve become incapable of love.”  



“Harmon Rabb Jr., that is not true, do you hear me?
And I never want to hear you speak of yourself like
that again.” Harm was surprised at the vehemence
lacing his mother’s words as she looked up at him with
a mixture of fierce love and unforgotten grief.
“You’re a kind and sensitive man. Why else would Frank
and I and your friends love you so much? You’re so
precious to me, Harm. The only part of your father I
have left.” 



Harm’s eyes were moist as he looked deeply into his
mother’s eyes. “Mom, I don’t think dad would like what
he saw if he could see me now.” 



“Why do you say that?” 



Harm hesitated and then it all came out in a rush. “I
always fail the ones I love. I failed him.”  



“Oh, darling.” His mother pulled him in for a hug and
stroked the back of his head. Harm closed his eyes and
pushed back the tears that pricked his eyelids as he
held her close. They hadn’t shared a moment like this
in as long as he could remember. Then Trish pulled
back and put her hands on his shoulders, as she looked
him in the eye, her blue gaze wise and brilliant. 



“Now you listen to me. You did not fail your father.
Do you remember what I told you once when you said you
were scared you would forget what your father looked
like? 



Harm nodded. “You told me to look in the mirror and I
would see him standing there beside me.”  



“Every time I look at you, you remind me of him, Harm.
You’re so alike and I don’t just mean physically. You
have his tenacity, his integrity, his dedication to
his work, the same deep love he had for his country,
his family and friends.” 



Harm swallowed, too overcome to speak. 



“Your beloved father is gone, Harm.” The tears in
Trish’s eyes mirrored those of her son. Even after all
this time, she still felt deeply for the daring naval
aviator who had bowled her over in her youth with his
daredevil, vibrant personality. She loved Frank from
the bottom of her heart and yet in a different way.
Even her present husband knew that a part of her would
always belong to Harm’s father.  



“He is gone and no longer feels the pain. But you and
I still do. We probably always will. But it’s time for
you to move on. Just like I did. You cannot change
what you did or didn’t do. No matter how much you
torture yourself with the pain and guilt and doubt,
you can’t bring him back.” 



Harm lowered his eyes, but his mother cupped his cheek
and forced him to look at her.  



“What you can do is stop hurting yourself. Don’t
inflict more pain on yourself for what you could have
done differently. Do you honestly think your father
would want you to torture yourself like this? You
loved him deeply and that means you have a deep
capacity for love that many people don’t. It would be
such a waste to ignore that. Let the guilt go, Harm.
Your daddy doesn’t blame you. He understands because
he knows what’s in your heart without your having to
say anything, the same way I do. And in the end that
is all that matters in this world. How much love we
are able to give.” 



“And if I have nothing to give?” 



Trish sighed as she placed the picture she had been
holding back in the drawer of her bedside table. “You
know that isn’t really the case. I think you’ve been
using that as an excuse to avoid facing the real issue
lying behind it. Believe me, I know. Until now it has
been your alibi, a way to get on with your life but it
isn’t working any more is it?” 



Harm shook his head sadly. “I guess not.” 



“We can’t build a fortress around ourselves and stay
away from love because we’re afraid to lose
everything. You put your heart in your father’s hands
once and he left you. It’s time to risk again, Harm.
To put your heart into someone else’s hands. Frank
helped me to do it and it’s time for you to let Mac
help you do the same.” 



Harm gave his mother a questioning look. “Mac?” 



Trish smiled knowingly. “I’ve seen the way she looks
at you, Harm, and I saw the way she left. She came all
the way down here just to talk to you and see if you
were ok. And after spending the whole day with you she
left without being able to meet my eyes or put two
coherent sentences together. It was obvious you’d had
a quarrel of some sort and that she was upset over
you.” 



Harm stood up and walked to the window looking out on
the beautiful spread of the beach bathed in the early
morning sunshine. “I’m not sure she’ll want to have
anything to do with me after the way I treated her.” 



“I think you’re underestimating her. You owe it to
both yourself and Mac to try and talk to her again.
You have loved in the past and you got hurt but it’s
time for you to open up to what life has to give you.
Before it’s too late.” Trish went to her son’s side
and slipped her arms around his waist. They stayed
that way in silence for a while, lost in their own
thoughts. When the cab Harm had called drew up outside
he bent towards his mother and kissed her on the
cheek. 



“I have to go.” 



It was a short drive to the airport and as he watched
the beautiful scenery Harm felt her words sink in and
with them came a number of mind-boggling questions.
Was he being fair to himself and Mac? By hurting
himself with this terrible addition of guilt was he
doing a disservice to his father’s memory? Could he
really start to forgive himself and move on? He was
still thinking about it when he tipped the taxi driver
and took his place in the queue of people waiting to
check in their luggage. 



“Smoking or non-smoking, sir?” the young flight
attendant behind the desk looked up at him
questioningly when his turn came. 



*“It’s time to risk, Harm. To put your heart in
someone else’s hands. Before it’s too late.”* 

His mother's words nagged at Harm. Was he doing the
right thing or was being foolish by throwing away the
chance of a lifetime? Or maybe he was a fool to think
he could satisfy Mac's needs. He'd always thought of
her as being too good for him. 

 



*“Why won’t you let me love you, Harm?”* 



“Sir?” The young man was beginning to look at him
strangely and the people standing behind him were
beginning to fidget in annoyance. It was then that
Harm made his decision. It was funny but all of a
sudden he knew exactly what he wanted to do. Feeling
more light-hearted than he had felt in a long while he
looked down at the confused young man and gave him a
self-conscious grin.  



“You wouldn’t be interested in passing Christmas in
Hawaii would you? I have two plane tickets I honestly
don’t know what to do with.”  



****** 



Harriet put the phone down and turned towards Mac with
a grim look. “Father Ryley can’t make it to the
Christmas play this evening.” 



Mac nearly choked on the pins she was holding between
her teeth. They had come back from JAG Headquarters a
few minutes ago and she was kneeling behind her
godson’s back in her living room, attaching a pair of
rigid angel’s wings onto A.J.’s costume. He wasn’t
really in the play but that didn’t stop him from
wanting to dress up anyway and as usual Mac gave in to
his demands. She knew she spoiled him rotten but she
didn’t care. She had precious little in the way of
relatives and was very attached to her godson.
Carefully removing the pins from her mouth Mac leaned
back on her heels and gave full vent to her anxiety. 



“What do you mean he can’t make it? We can’t do the
play without him and we only have an hour and
forty-two minutes before it starts.” 



“He’s in bed with a fever. The poor man’s throat is so
hoarse he can hardly speak. You wouldn’t want him to
pass the bug to the children would you?” 



Mac shook her head acknowledging the wisdom behind her
friend’s words. “No, but I was so looking forward to
having the kids sing the Christmas carols towards the
end.” 



“They could still sing them, even without the music,”
Harriet pointed out unerringly. 



“I suppose so.” Mac felt her depression stooping to an
all time low. This Christmas was turning out to be a
total flop on all fronts no matter how hard her
efforts to the contrary. 



“Are you finished with A.J.’s costume? You still have
to change.” 



Mac glanced from Harriet’s elegant attire to the
marine uniform she was still wearing and grimaced
inwardly. Harriet had changed at JAG but Mac was
almost tempted to go as she was. Her usual enthusiasm
for the Christmas season had gone on hiatus ever since
her quarrel with Harm. An image of his stricken face
as he watched her leave La Jolla appeared unbidden in
her mind’s eye and her heart contracted in her chest.
Unreasonably, even as she was stepping into the cab
she had hoped against hope that he would come after
her and stop her from leaving, but he hadn’t.  



“Mac?” 



Harriet’s shrewd blue eyes were watching her closely.
Doing her best to hide her feelings Mac got to her
feet and gave her godson an affectionate pat on the
bottom. “All done, A.J.”  



A.J. did a pirouette and squealed in delight. “Mummy,
look. Auntie Mac gave me wings.”  



They both smiled as he ran around the room doing his
imitation of an airplane and Harriet couldn’t help
admiring Mac’s handiwork. 



“I didn’t know you could sew as well. Is there no
limit to your hidden talents?”  



Mac shrugged modestly. “My mother was a very good
seamstress. I must have subconsciously picked it up
from her. Until she ran off and left me with my
father, that is.” 



Harriet caught the bitterness in Mac’s tone and
wondered what had brought this on. It wasn’t like her
friend to wallow in self-pity. And she hadn’t been
this way before she followed Harm to La Jolla. “Mac,
are you sure you’re ok? You seem upset. Did something
happen between you and the Commander this weekend?” 



“That’s the problem, Harriet. Nothing happened.” 



Harriet opened her mouth to say more but thought
better of it when she saw the discouraging look Mac
sent her way. “I’d better get going. I’ll meet you at
the Church of the Angels in half an hour or so. Don’t
be late.” 



After seeing Harriet and A.J. out, Mac showered and
blow-dried her short hair. Then she opened her
wardrobe and debated on what to wear. Her hand skimmed
over the hangers and fell on a dress she hadn’t worn
in ages. It was in black silk, with a fitted bodice
and a skirt that hugged the hips and flared just below
them to reach below the knees. The boatneck and
tapered sleeves were trimmed with a lining of smoky
gray fur. Deciding that the dark colors matched her
mood she slipped it on, along with sheer black
stockings and a pair of elegant, high-heeled shoes
that showed off her slim legs and trim ankles. Her
only jewelry consisted of a pair of diamond stud
earrings Harm had given her for her last birthday. Her
thoughts turned to him as she put them on. Not that
she had been thinking of anything else since she got
back to Washington. 



Was he thinking of her? Did he wonder what she was up
to like she did about him? He was probably already in
Hawaii by now. She had hardly exchanged two words with
him on their way back to his mother’s house from the
cliffs. And between saying goodbye to his parents and
packing her few belongings and calling for a cab time
had flown and before she knew it she had been leaving
his house, the distance between them yawning larger
and larger as the cab carried her to the airport.  



Tomorrow was Christmas Eve and it should have been a
happy time for all of them. But she knew without a
doubt that the ache that tore at her heart would never
leave her, no matter how hard she tried. No matter
what new men might come into her life, her heart
belonged to one handsome naval officer with a pirate’s
smile. She told herself she would survive. That much
she knew from the difficult things she had been
through in her past. Her mother’s abandonment, her
father’s alcoholism, her own fight against the same
weakness and now this. Oh yes, she would continue to
exist despite the pain. But of all the difficult
moments in her life this had to be the worst. She had
offered her heart to Harm on a silver platter only to
have it rejected once again.  



And yet, she didn’t regret it. She was glad she had
finally told him she loved him. It had set her free,
somehow. Free to accept that he didn’t want her and
that she would have to face a future without him. But
what a bleak future it had turned out to be. A lump
formed in her throat as she envisaged the tedium of
endlessly long days without his devilish grin to look
upon. She couldn’t face the agony of working by his
side day after day knowing he would never be hers.
Tears pricked, threatening to start falling. It was
such a waste. Why couldn’t he love her enough to trust
her with his heart? They could have had so much
together. But it was no use shedding tears over what
could never be. She had gambled her heart and lost.
Her dreams had been crushed before they had time to
blossom into reality. 



Realizing she was running late, Mac made an effort to
pull herself together. Blinking away the moisture in
her eyes she placed a small blob of hair gel in her
palms and smeared it on the sides of her head,
slicking her hair back behind her ears. Then she
applied a light touch of makeup. The effect was
dramatic. Spraying on some perfume she slipped on her
gray coat and picked up her black sequined handbag.
Giving herself one last look in the mirror she squared
her shoulders and left her apartment.  



Heavy traffic on the Beltway thwarted her attempts to
get to the church well ahead of the time when the play
was scheduled to start. There was barely half an hour
to spare by the time she finally found a suitable
parking space near the back entrance. As she locked
her car, it started to snow. Soft white flakes swirled
around her, settling on her eyelashes, her shoulders
and hair. Praying that her high heels wouldn’t betray
her she made a dash for the back door across the
sleet-covered sidewalk.  



Once safely inside she hung up her coat and made her
way to the tiny room behind the stage. She could hear
a deep male voice singing ‘The First Noel’ and was
even more puzzled when she heard music in the
background. Maybe Harriet had found a substitute for
Father Ryley. Her warm smile froze on her face when
she opened the door and looked inside. Sitting on a
low stool, lazily strumming a guitar, was Harm. All
the children, including A.J. were in their costumes,
seated obediently at his feet. Following him with
enraptured eyes, they listened to him sing, completely
taken in by the rich timbre of his voice and his
gentle manner and when he finished the stanza they all
joined enthusiastically in the chorus.  



Mac’s heart beat so loudly she was sure everyone else
in the room must be aware of it. He looked so
wonderful. He had shed the jacket of his dark blue,
three-piece suit and rolled up the sleeves of his
white shirt. With a twist to her insides she noticed
that he had loosened his tie and opened the two top
buttons of his shirt as he often did when he was
feeling relaxed and easy. She watched as he led the
little girl who was to do the solo part through the
rhythm of the Christmas carol, singing softly along
with her when she seemed to falter. The little girl
smiled up at him trustingly. He had the children in
the palm of his hand and Mac felt a rush of pride as
her gaze ran over him. She knew without a doubt that
he would make a wonderful father some day.  



“Mama, look. Auntie Mac’s here.” 



Following little A.J.’s declaration, the music stopped
abruptly and all eyes turned to her. “I***I’m sorry
I’m late***The traffic***” For once in her life Mac
didn’t know what to say.  



“Mac, the Commander was already at the church when I
got here and he volunteered to help us. Isn’t it
great?” Harriet came towards her with a nervous smile
on her face, hoping she hadn’t overstepped her
boundaries but by the look on her friend’s face she
had done the right thing. Mac, however, continued to
gape at her. Hiding her smile, Harriet turned to the
children. “Come on children, we’re done rehearsing.
It’s time to go backstage.” 



One by one the children stood up and followed Harriet
out of the room. A.J. lingered but Harriet came back
and took him with her. There would be time enough to
be with his godparents when they had sorted out their
differences. Right now they needed to be alone.  



“Hi.” Harm stood up and placed the guitar against the
wall. His whole face seemed to tense as he rolled down
his sleeves and buttoned his cuffs and it pained Mac
to know that it was because of her.  



“You didn’t go to Hawaii?” she croaked.  



“No. I thought you might need a little help here. I
hope you don’t mind.” 



Mind? She was so happy to see him she was on the verge
of tears. She had to fight herself to keep from
running to him and throwing her arms around his neck.
How could she mind him being here in front of her when
she had honestly thought he would never want to speak
to her again? 



“You look beautiful.” Harm caressed her with his eyes
from the tip of her dark head to her elegantly shod
feet and back again. The words weren’t very original
but coming from him they meant so much.  



“So do you.”  



“Thanks.” Her response elicited an endearing reuful
grin from Harm.  



Just at that moment Harriet popped her head in, her
glance apologetic. “Hey, you guys, I’m sorry to
interrupt but we have a full house and we’re due to
start in five minutes.” Giving them one of her knowing
smiles she left and once again they were alone. 



“Would you help me with this?” Harm indicated his tie.
It was a lame excuse but he wanted her to come closer
and she looked very much like a deer in the
headlights, ready to flee at the slightest
provocation.  



“Sure.” Mac moved towards him and took the tie in her
hands. She kept her eyes on the strong column of his
throat as she fumbled with the buttons and pushed the
tie up around his collar. He was so tantalizingly
close. Of its own volition, her traitorous gaze slid
to his mouth. Too late, she realized it was a mistake
and her heart leaped as she contemplated the full,
sensual lower lip.  



For God’s sake Mac, get a grip, she told herself. If
she weren’t so tense she would find it funny. She was
having licentious thoughts about her partner in a
church!  



She was almost finished when Harm caught her hands in
his larger ones and gently planted a series of kisses
on the tip of each finger. Her heart in her mouth, her
senses tingling, Mac looked up into the gorgeous
aquamarine eyes she loved so much, her own eyes wide
and questioning and the tenderness she saw there took
her breath away. Ever so slowly, his head bent towards
hers. Mac closed her eyes ecstatically, anticipating
the inevitable.  



Briefly, Harm’s gaze rested on her face, turned up to
him so trustingly, so sweetly. And, when his mouth was
only a hair’s breath away from hers, he slipped his
arms around her and pulled her towards him, his mouth
capturing hers in a deep, demanding kiss. Mac leaned
against him weakly, trembling with emotion. This was
it, she thought. This was how it was meant to be
between them. Their breaths, their hearts and their
minds mingling in one shimmering whole. His lips were
warm and soft against hers and she couldn’t have
resisted him if she tried. Her hands rested on his
chest and she could feel his violent heartbeat
thundering under her palm just as wildly as hers as
she kissed him back with all that was in her.
Lovingly, unwittingly, her hands went up around his
broad shoulders and she held on to him tightly, hardly
able to believe he was really here. And Harm kissed
her as if it was the last thing he would ever do. With
bold, passionate strokes he explored the soft interior
of her mouth, cerishing the taste and feel of her. His
kiss expressed all the repressed emotions that had
been lying latent, just beneath the surface for so
many years - his admiration, his respect, his
yearning, and his love. It was a moment of intense
revelation for both of them and it left them both
shaken and humbled. It was quite some time before Harm
finally lifted his head. Reluctantly, he drew back and
dropped a kiss on the tip of her pert nose.  



“We’re going to have to continue this later,” he
whispered huskily against her mouth, his gaze filled
with passionate tenderness.  



Letting go of her gently he picked up his discarded
jacket and slipped it on. Picking up his guitar, he
held out his arm to her and flashed her his dangerous
smile. “Let’s go, Sarah. Your audience awaits.” 



The play went off without a hitch. Well, almost, if
you left out the fact that two of the shepherds forgot
their lines and one of the angels tripped on her dress
and almost dragged the manger and the small statue of
poor Baby Jesus down with her. But to the audience of
doting parents and relatives it was perfect. And when
the children finally gathered on stage a hushed
silence fell. From the wings Mac watched as Harm drew
out the first notes of ‘Silent Night’ on his guitar
and nodded to the soloist who immediately started
singing.  



Her sweet, angelic voice rang high and true,
reverberating in the small hall and tears glistened in
many of the eyes following the show. There was
something infinitely magical about children singing
Christmas carols but to Mac the magic lay in the
figure of the man playing the guitar so beautifully.
He was seated just below the stage where the children
could see him. At times his dark head was bent towards
the instrument, at others his glance focused on the
children as he urged them along. Twice during the
performance his gaze looked straight into hers and he
flashed her his debonair smile and Mac’s heart swelled
with happiness and love. Harm was in his element, the
enchantment catching up with him, too, as he took them
all through a series of popular carols from ‘Zion’s
daughter’ to ‘Little Drummer Boy’ and ‘Away in a
Manger’ and many more besides. The final crescendo
ended with a lively chorus of ‘Joy to the World.’  



When the final note sounded there was a moment of
absolute silence. Then the hall erupted in a cacophony
of sound as the audience got to their feet and clapped
enthusiastically, asking for an encore. The children
beamed with delight and looked to Harm for guidance.
He nodded and with a boyish grin he gave them the
timing. It was clear he was having the time of his
life. Soon after they were all singing ‘Hark! The
Herald Angels Sing’ with the audience joining in at
the end.  



All in all, the evening was a huge success. Mac had
her hand pumped by so many enthusiastic parents so
many times that by the time they were finished with
her it ached. Taking advantage of a lull in the
general confusion when everyone else seemed to be
otherwise occupied she slipped quietly out of the hall
and made her way to the back door. Slipping on her
coat she stepped outside. It was still snowing and
everything was blanketed in white, from the sidewalks
to the cars and the lampposts. The street was deserted
and Mac shivered from the cold and wrapped her arms
around herself.  



She wasn’t too surprised when a pair of large warm
hands caught her from behind and slipped around her
waist drawing her close against the tall, lean frame
of the man standing behind her. Harm bent over her and
pressed his clean-shaven cheek to hers and she slid
her hands over his forearms, hugging him to her
lovingly.  



“Running away?” His words had a vulnerable ring to
them.  



“From you? Never,” she replied fervently as she turned
in his arms, her tender look chasing away his fears.  



He mouth lifted roguishly. “That went well, don’t you
think? We make a great team.” 



“We always have,” she replied her fingers trailing the
shape of his lips, her eyes devouring him.  



Harm’s voice turned a shade huskier. “Mac, sweetheart,
I’m ready to take you up on your offer if it still
stands.” 



Mac took his face between her hands. “Oh, it does. I
can hardly believe you’re here.”  



Her words warmed and calmed him and he smiled down at
her lovingly. “Anything’s possible at Christmas,
right?”  



“Oh Harm, just tell me you need me. That you always
will, no matter what.” 



Looking into her eyes Harm saw all the missing pieces
in his life falling into place. “I do Sarah. I need
you to love me. I need you like the air I breathe. But
are you sure you can put up with me? I told you
before, I’m complicated.” 



“Deliciously complicated,” she whispered against his
mouth, her hands sliding to rest on his shoulders “And
I want to spend the rest of the time we have together
unraveling you, my love.” 



“That might take a long time. Got any plans for the
rest of your life?” 



“I can’t wait for the rest of my life. I love you,
Harm.” 



“Sarah…” The husky whisper of her name on his lips and
the flame of love in his eyes told her all she needed
to know. Mac wrapped her arms around his neck and
pressed her cheek to his with all the tenderness
inside her. Tightening his embrace Harm lifted her off
her feet and twirled her round amidst the falling snow
and they both laughed with the sheer happiness of
having found each other at last. Then he slid her down
along his strong body and she melted into the sweet
dominance of his tender kiss. And somewhere up above
in the quiet, starlit sky, Harmon Rabb Sr. looked down
upon the couple and smiled.  



THE END

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL OF YOU!!!

Thanks for reading

Audrey