Free Through Waters Deep by Sarah Sundin Page B

giant puppy, bounding around with his tongue hanging out. No wonder Mary wasn’t interested in him. A quiet soul like her would prefer a man of suave sophistication.
    Did he want her to be interested in him anyway? Sometimes when she smiled up at him, he wanted to draw her close. Her gentle ways soothed him, intrigued him, balanced him.
    He’d never imagined himself with anyone but a perky blonde, but now he longed for Mary’s company. Strange. He’d have to wait and see what happened.
    Jim entered the forward boiler room and shed his navy blue jacket. Heat pressed in, and the roar of the machinery assaulted his ears. At some point he’d have to do his turn down here with the “black gang” in the engine and boiler rooms, but he wouldn’t volunteer.
    Working his way through the maze of pipes and cables, he kept a respectful distance from the hot steam pipes.
    Up ahead, Arch studied a gauge and made a note on a clipboard. His blond hair curled around his forehead.
    â€œHey, Curly!” Jim called.
    Arch shot him a withering glare and jammed his cover over the disobedient locks. “What’s the matter? Assistant gunnery officer has nothing to do in peacetime?”
    â€œNothing to shoot but the breeze.” Jim gave him a jaunty smile and a sheet of paper. “But I do have an important memo from Durant. Jim Avery, assistant messenger boy, second class.”
    Arch smiled, skimmed the message, and slipped it onto his clipboard. “Ah, soon they’ll give us both plenty to do.”
    â€œI know. Got a practice loading drill at 1500 hours.”
    â€œIt’ll be a busy month. Glad we’re coming back to Boston, though. Good home port.”
    â€œDoes Gloria like it here?” A drop of sweat broke free from Jim’s hatband.
    â€œSure. She likes her job well enough.” He marched down to the next gauge. “But she’d follow me anywhere. I’m quite a catch, you know.”
    Jim winced at the cynicism in Arch’s voice. How many times had they been through this? “You don’t think she loves you only for your money, do you?”
    â€œI don’t know.” Arch peered at the gauge and adjusted a valve. “Thought she was different, but all she talks about lately is money, shopping, how wonderful it is to buy nice things.”
    â€œBecause of her job or because of you?”
    He shrugged. “Does it matter?”
    â€œLook, we’re coming out of the Depression. Most of us had to scrounge and save and do without. She sounds like every other American girl with a good paycheck right now.”
    â€œI’m sure that’s all it is.” His tone contradicted his words. “Say, you don’t think we’ll see any action this month, do you?”
    Jim laughed. “Along the New England coast?”
    â€œWe’ll be in this war before the end of our cruise, mark my words. You heard the news—Germany says escorting convoys is an act of war. And here we are committed to escorting convoys in the near future.”
    â€œYeah. The Battle of the Atlantic’s really heating up.” Steam hissed overhead. Jim shuddered at the thought of the thousands of men who had perished the past week in the sinkings of the British battlecruiser HMS Hood and theGerman battleship Bismarck . The war at sea had claimed many ships, many lives, and now the US Navy was skipping right into the middle of it.
    Arch dashed to the source of the hissing steam and tightened a valve. “Gloria might need to find another checkbook to raid, because we’ll be at sea longer than a month.”
    Even if Congress declared war that day, they’d have to return to port in a month to restock. But correcting Arch when he was in a mood like this would only waste words. “See you later, buddy. Off to pretend to fire my guns.”
    Back up topside, Jim took a bracing breath of cool air. The deck rolled gently beneath his feet. Far to