Gail was very quiet on the ride back to the Peleliu.
Sly didn’t like that. Something was wrong.
Nor had he liked the way the Chief Steward aboard the Bush had hugged her goodbye. No salute or handshake. Instead he had hugged her tightly and she had rested her head on his shoulder.
He wouldn’t ask.
It was her business.
But damn it! Wasn’t it his as well?
He just couldn’t figure out how to start that conversation. So, they rode in silence back to their boat, picked up the falls from the davits, and latched them to the Zodiac boat fore and aft. The winch lifted them aloft by those lines until the boat was tucked back in its cubbyhole high on the outside of the hull, close beneath the Flight Deck.
Sly offered a hand to help her out of the boat, just for an excuse to touch her. To confir
