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thin soup. It was bland, with no hint of seasoning, just a slight taste of cabbage flavor to the broth. She saw the officer watching her, almost hawklike. “It’s good. Really good,” she lied.
    Unsure, Alec picked up his silverware and began to eat methodically. “While you were showering, I talked to First Captain Denisov, the commander of our destroyer. The seas are calming down, and he anticipates we’ll reach Kodiak in five days.”
    “Good,” Abby said, finishing off the small bowl of soup. She took her fork and moved it through the heaping strands of cut and boiled cabbage. It was dripping in grease, and she hesitated.
    “Is there something wrong with the food?”
    Abby chewed on her lower lip and chanced a look at the officer. “I—well, it’s awfully greasy. You know—cholesterol.”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    She laid the limp cabbage back on the tray and put the fork aside. “In America, half the deaths each year are due to heart attacks because we eat too much meat, and too many other foods with high cholesterol in them. The fat clogs your arteries and gives you heart problems.” She gave a delicate shrug and her voice became apologetic. “I’m sorry, I just can’t eat the cabbage or sausage, Alec. It’s too greasy. And besides that, I’m a strict vegetarian.”
    Frowning, he tried to table his hurt over her decision not to eat the costly and rare meat. “A vegetarian?”
    “Yes. I don’t eat any kind of meat, including seafood. I eat lots of other things, though,” Abby said quickly, seeing that his features mirrored injury. “Rice, bread, any kind of fruits, vegetables, lots of salads, nuts and things like that.” She watched as he grew more distressed. “I’m sorry. I imagine it’s tough to keep lots of fresh fruits and vegetables on board. You’ve done your best to feed me. It’s my problem.”
    “No, you need to eat something.”
    “The soup and bread are fine. Really.” With a slight smile, Abby added, “Did you know half the people in my country are overweight?”
    Alec motioned to her. “That may be so, but you’re too thin.” He was confused by her explanation, thinking Americans had strange ideas about food and health customs.
    Abby looked down at herself. “I know. Susan gets on me about that all the time. But I’m so busy with SOWF matters that I’m constantly traveling. And when I travel, I don’t eat much.”
    Getting up, Alec brought his bowl of soup over to her, plus a thick slice of black bread. “I won’t be responsible for you losing any more weight, then. Here, eat these. The bread is rich and nutritious. I’ll order more if you like.”
    Touched, Abby took his offering without protest. Alec could have rightfully acted rebuffed by her eccentric eating habits, but he didn’t. She watched as he ordered her another large bowl of soup and four more slices of the black bread. Not wanting to appear more ungrateful, she began to eat in earnest, even though the soup was little more than water. If Alec considered the food he ate as an officer good, what on earth did the crew eat?
    After the meal, Abby was pleasantly full. The trays were taken away by a teenage steward with sandy hair. He tried to glance at her inconspicuously, without appearing rude about his curiosity. When he left, Alec grinned.
    “You know you are a celebrity on the ship, don’t you?”
    “No.”
    “There are no women on board, and so when the crew found out we had rescued a red-haired American woman, the rumors began to fly. This young steward will go back to his quarters after his watch and tell everyone how he actually saw you, that you aren’t a rumor at all, but very much alive and beautiful.”
    “I feel very pampered and cared for, Alec. Thanks to you.”
    He smiled and barely tipped his head in her direction. “So, let me show you to your quarters. Captain Stratman has asked that when you feel like it, he’d like to talk to you on the radio. I can take you up to the bridge