Lone eagle

“Do you see yourself settling down eventually?” Clarke asked quietly. These were the first deep insights he'd had into what Joe wanted out of life. They'd never had a chance to talk about it before the war.

“I suppose so, whatever that means. As long as I can keep flying around and building airplanes. I know I have to do that. As long as everything else fits into that, I guess I could settle in. I've never thought much about it.” It was hardly a proposal, or a firm declaration of intention. It was more of a maybe. He had taken a long time to grow up, and obviously had no deep emotional need to be settled with anyone or anything. As he had told Kate, he had never even really cared if he had children. Just airplanes. “It's pretty hard thinking about the future, when you put your life on the line every day, several times a day. When you're doing that, nothing else really matters.” He was flying as many as three missions a day, and every time he took off, he knew he might never come back. It was hard to think beyond that. In fact, he didn't want to. All he could do was concentrate on what he was doing, and the importance of shooting down the enemy. The rest was unimportant to him. Even Kate, at those particular moments. She was a luxury he could allow himself after the important things were accomplished. It was how he thought about his life actually. He had things he had to do, and after he did them, he could allow himself to be with her. But she had to wait until he had taken care of business. And right now, the war was business for him.

“I love Kate, Mr. Jamison,” Joe said to Clarke, as he handed him a glass of bourbon, and Joe took it and sipped it. “Do you think she'd be happy with a guy like me? Would anyone? Flying comes first with me. It always will. She has to know that.” In his own way, he was a genius, he had brilliant ideas about aeronautical engineering, and he knew every tiny piece of his engines intimately. He could fly in any condition imaginable, and had. He knew all there was to know about aerodynamics. He understood a lot less about women, and he knew that, and Clarke was just beginning to understand. Kate's mother had sensed all that about him from the first.

“I think she'd be happy as long as you provided a stable life for her, and cared about her. I think she'll want the same things all women do eventually, a man she can count on, a good home, children. It's pretty basic.” The luxuries they could provide for her, and would through her inheritance, but the emotional sustenance and stability, the security, would have to come from him, if he could provide it for her.

“I don't think that's so complicated,” Joe said bravely as he took a long swig of the bourbon.

“Sometimes it's more complicated than you think. Women get upset by the damnedest things. You can't just throw them in the trunk of a car like a suitcase. If you get their feathers ruffled, or don't provide for them, emotionally or otherwise, things don't go very smoothly.” It was wise advice, and Clarke wasn't sure Joe was ready to hear it yet.

“I guess you're right. I've never thought about it. I never really had to.” He squirmed in his seat again and lowered his eyes. He was looking into his drink and not at Clarke as he went on a minute later. “I don't think I can really think about all this right now. For one thing, it's too soon. Kate and I hardly know each other, and for another, all I can think about right now is killing Germans. Afterward, when the war is over, we can figure out what color linoleum we want, and if we need drapes. Right now, we don't even have the house yet. I don't think either of us is ready to make big decisions.” It was a reasonable thing to say in the circumstances, and true probably, but Clarke was disappointed anyway. He had been hoping that Joe was going to ask him for Kate's hand in marriage. And he hadn't said he wouldn't, but he had admitted that he wasn't ready. Maybe it was better that he was honest about it. Clarke thought that, if Joe had been ready to come forward, Kate would have been thrilled about it. At nineteen, she was more ready to settle down, with Joe at least, than he was at thirty-one.

His life up until that point had been very different. He had been floating around the world, drifting between airstrips, concentrating on flying and the future of aviation. He had lofty dreams, as long as they were about airplanes, but few if any when it came to everyday life. What he needed to do, after the war, in Clarke's opinion, was concentrate more on what was happening on the ground, instead of looking up at the sky all the time. In some ways, Joe Allbright was a dreamer. The question was, did his dreams include Kate?

“What did he say?” Elizabeth quizzed him that night, after they had said goodnight to Joe and Kate, and had closed the door to their bedroom. She had asked him to speak to Joe if he had the opportunity. And to please her, he had come home early from the office to get some time to talk to Joe, before Kate came home from school.

“In few words? He said that he's not ready. ‘They're not ready’ was what he said more precisely.” Clarke tried not to look too disappointed so he wouldn't upset his wife.

“I think Kate would be ready if he were,” Liz said sadly.

“So do I. But you can't force it. He's fighting a war, and risking his life every day. It's a little difficult to convince him that he needs to get engaged.” Since Kate loved him so much, they had both agreed that they needed to do what they could to help her. They would have liked to tie things down before he left again. It was a rare gift that he had come home for two weeks, but Clarke could see now that this time anyway, there was not going to be an engagement. Maybe later. “I don't think he's a settled-down kind of guy anyway, but I think he could be, for Kate's sake. I have no doubt whatsoever that he loves her, and he said so. I believe him. He doesn't fool around, he's crazy about her. But he's also crazy about his planes.” It was exactly what Elizabeth had been afraid of from the first.

“And what happens if she sits this whole war out waiting for him, and he figures out afterward that he doesn't want to settle down? She wastes years, and he breaks her heart.” It was precisely the scenario she didn't want for her daughter, and there was no way to guarantee that wouldn't happen. Even if he married her, he could die, and she'd be a widow, and they both knew it. But maybe in that case, she'd have a baby. At least it would be something. But none of it was something they'd have wished for her. What they hoped for was a husband for Kate, who loved her, wanted to be with her, and had a solid, settled life. Clarke was beginning to think that Joe might always be a little bit eccentric. He was brilliant enough to excuse being a little odd. Clarke wasn't sure it was a bad thing, but it made things a little harder to pin down. His conclusion was that they were all going to have to be patient, which was what he said to Liz, as he repeated the conversation to her. “Do you think he was telling you that he never wants to get married?” Liz was panicked over that, but Clarke was calm.

“No, I don't. And I think he will marry her eventually. I've known other guys like him. They just take a little longer to get into the barn,” he smiled at his wife, “not all horses are as docile as others. And this one is a bit of a wild horse. Just be patient. At least Kate doesn't seem upset about it.”

“That's what worries me. She'd go to the moon with him. She's absolutely head over heels in love with him, and I think she'd agree to anything he wanted. I don't want her living in a tent by the side of the runway in some airport.”

“I don't think it'll ever come to that. We can buy them a house if we have to.”

“It's not the house I'm worried about. It's who's living in it, and who isn't.”

“He'll get there,” Clarke reassured her, and he believed what he was saying.

“I hope I'm still alive to see it,” she said ruefully, as he kissed her.

“You're not over the hill yet, my love, by any means.” But she was feeling tired these days, and depressed over the fact that she was approaching sixty, and she so desperately wanted to see Kate settled and happy. But this was the wrong time. They were at war.

Kate wasn't unhappy at the moment, except for the fact that Joe was away, fighting the war in England. But her mother didn't feel that her future was by any means secure. Joe was like a wild proud bird, and a totally free spirit. And as far as Liz was concerned, there was no predicting what he was going to do when he came back. She was not as sure as Clarke that he could be counted on to marry their daughter. But at least they had tried, and Joe mentioned the conversation to Kate that night too, and she was upset.

“That's disgusting,” she said, looking hurt. She felt as though her parents were trying to force him to marry her and she didn't want that. She only wanted him if he wanted her, and if he wanted to get married. “Why did my father do that? It's like trying to force you to marry me.”

“They're just worried about you,” he said calmly. He understood, although it had made him uncomfortable too. He had never had to explain himself like that before, what he wanted, where he was going and what he was about. “They don't mean any harm by it, Kate. They want what's best for you, and maybe for me too. Actually, I'm kind of flattered. They didn't tell me to get out of their house, or that I'm not good enough for their daughter, and they could have. They want to know if I'm planning to stick around, and if I really love you. And just so you know, I told your father that I do. We'll just have to figure out the rest when I get back from England. God only knows where I'll be then.” But she didn't like the sound of that either. He had always been blown by the wind to the most appealing airstrip. But she didn't want to question him about it. Her father had done enough for one afternoon, and she was really annoyed at him, in spite of Joe's good nature. She was glad that he hadn't been upset by it, and saw no point to the conversation. And she knew that whatever Joe had said that didn't sit right with them, would come back to haunt her, but she couldn't worry about that now.

The time they spent together in September of 1942 was magical. She went to school every day, and afterward he came to meet her. They spent hours talking and walking, sitting under trees and talking about life and all the things that mattered to them. In Joe's case, most of the time it was airplanes. But there were other things too, people, and places, and things he wanted to do. Facing death every day made life even more precious to him. They spent lazy afternoons, holding hands and kissing, and they had already agreed that they wouldn't sleep with each other. As the days went by, it became an ever greater challenge, but they behaved admirably. Just as he didn't want to leave her widowed, if he died, he also didn't want to leave her pregnant when he went back to the war. And if they married one day, he wanted it to be because they chose to, not because they had to. And she agreed with him, although some part of her almost wished that if something happened to him, she would have his baby. But all they could do now was trust the future. There were no promises, no guarantees, no sure things. There were only their hopes and dreams and the time they had spent together. The rest was entirely unknown.

When he left her finally, they were more in love than they had ever been, and knew everything about each other. It was as though they were each the perfect complement to the other, and fit together seamlessly. They were different, but so perfectly matched Kate was convinced they had been born for each other, and Joe didn't disagree. He was still awkward at times, still shy, still quiet now and then, lost in his own thoughts, but she was able to understand that, and she found all his little quirks and mannerisms endearing. And when he left this time, there were tears in his eyes when he kissed her and told her he loved her. He promised to write to her as soon as he got back to England. It was the only promise he made her before he left. And for Kate, it was enough.

6

THE WAR HEATED UP in October that year, and some of the reports were more encouraging than they had been. The Australians and their allies were pushing the Japanese out of New Guinea, and they appeared to be weakening in Guadalcanal. The British were finally wearing down German forces in North Africa as well. And Stalingrad was hanging on against the Germans, though admittedly by a thread.

Joe was flying constant missions, and the one he flew over Gibraltar made history. He and three other Spitfire pilots shot down twelve German Stuka dive-bombers on a reconnaissance mission in advance of the huge Allied invasion campaign known as Operation Torch. The mission had been a huge success.

Joe was decorated, and received the Distinguished Flying Cross from Great Britain, and flew back to Washington to receive the United States Distinguished Flying Cross medal from the President, and this time Kate had ample warning of his return. She took the train from Boston to Washington to meet him, three days before Christmas. They had forty-eight hours before he had to go back to England. But once again, it was a precious gift to them, and one that neither of them had expected. The War Department put him up at a hotel, and Kate took a small room on the same floor. She went to the ceremony at the White House with him and the President shook her hand, and she and Joe posed for a photograph with him. It all felt like something in a movie to Kate.

Joe took her out to dinner afterward, and she smiled at him after they ordered. He was still wearing his medal. And he was more handsome than he had ever been.

“I still can't believe you're here,” she said, beaming at him. He was truly a hero. The ceremony had been a strange mixture of happiness and sadness for Kate, as she realized how easily he could have been killed. Everything about life these days seemed bittersweet. Every day that he lived was a gift, and nearly every day she heard about boys who had died in Europe or the Pacific. The girls she had gone to school with had already lost so many loved ones. So far, she'd been very lucky. She held her breath every day, praying for Joe.

“I can't believe I'm here,” Joe said as he took a sip of wine. “And before I know it, I'll be freezing my ass off in England again.” But here, because the war wasn't as close, things seemed more festive. There were Christmas trees everywhere, carolers, and children laughing as they waited for Santa Claus. There were still happy faces, in contrast to the pained, hungry, frightened ones in England. Even the children there looked exhausted, everyone was so tired of the bombs and the air raids. Houses disappeared in the blink of an eye, friends were lost, children were killed. In England, it seemed almost impossible to be happy these days. And yet, the people Joe knew there were very brave.

Washington looked like a fairyland to him, and to Kate. After dinner, they walked back to their hotel, and chatted in the living room they provided in the lobby. They sat there for hours because they didn't want to leave each other and go to their rooms. And as the night wore on, the sitting room got increasingly drafty, but she didn't think it proper to sit in either of their bedrooms upstairs. Her parents had wanted to come to Washington with her, not just to chaperone her, but to celebrate Joe at his ceremony. But in the end, they couldn't. Her father had important clients coming in from Chicago, and Elizabeth had to be with him. They trusted her implicitly to go alone, and knew Joe was a responsible person. But in the end, they were both so cold sitting in the lobby, he suggested they sit in his room. He promised to behave, and by then Kate's hands were so cold she could hardly move them, and her teeth were chattering. And outside, it was snowing and bitter cold.

They walked up the narrow staircase to their rooms. It was a tiny hotel, and the room rate was dirt cheap for military personnel, which was why they had booked a room for him there. Kate's room was only slightly more expensive. The rooms themselves were simply decorated and tiny, but for two days neither of them cared. All they wanted was to see each other. Seeing him had been the only Christmas gift she wanted, and she hadn't expected to get it. It was the answer to all her prayers. She had missed him terribly since September. And she felt guilty almost to see him. There were women she knew who hadn't laid eyes on their brothers and fiancés since Pearl Harbor. And she had seen Joe twice in the last four months.

If nothing else, because of the size of the rooms, they were warmer than the lobby. There was a bed and a chair in each room, a dresser and a sink, and there was a shower and a toilet in what must have once been a closet. The only place to hang clothes was on the back of the door, but Kate was grateful to have her own bathroom.

Once they got to his room, Joe sat on the bed and she took the chair. He opened a small bottle of champagne he had bought for them when he got to Washington. It was to celebrate his decoration, which dangled from the breast of his uniform.

Kate still couldn't get over the fact that they'd been to the White House. Mrs. Roosevelt had been so kind to her, and looked exactly as Kate had expected. For some reason, she had noticed that the First Lady had lovely hands, and she'd been mesmerized by them. Kate knew she'd remember every detail of the afternoon forever. Joe seemed a lot more blasé about it, but he'd been to some pretty interesting places with Charles over the years, and other things impressed him more. Like extraordinary flying feats, or important pilots. But he was pleased with the decoration anyway, although he was sorry for the men he knew who had died in the course of the missions he'd flown. He would have vastly preferred not to get the medal and to have them come home with him. It made it hard for him to celebrate the event, or be genuinely excited about the medal. He had already lost so many friends. They were talking about it as he handed her the champagne.

The chair Kate was perched on was so uncomfortable that he invited her to sit on the bed with him. She knew they were tempting fate, but she also knew that they could trust each other. They weren't going to do anything foolish just because they were sitting on a bed in a hotel room. And without hesitation, she came to sit beside him, and they went on talking. She only had half a glass of champagne, and Joe had two. Neither of them was a big drinker, and after a while she said she should go back to her room.

Before she got up, he kissed her. It was a long, slow kiss filled with all the sadness and longing they had both felt for so long, and the joy they both felt to be together. When he stopped kissing her, she was breathless, and so was he. They both suddenly felt as though they were starving. It was as though all the deprivations of the past year had finally caught up with them, and they couldn't get enough of each other. Kate had never felt as overwhelmed by desire for him, nor had Joe. He wasn't even thinking as he laid her down on the bed when he next kissed her, and gently let himself down on top of her, and much to her own amazement, she didn't stop him. They both needed to catch their breath and stop what they were doing before they went any further, or they weren't going to be able to, and they both knew it. He was whispering hoarsely to her as he told her how much he loved her, and he meant it. More than he ever had before.

“I love you too,” she whispered breathlessly, all she wanted to do was kiss him and hold him and feel him on top of her, and without thinking, she started unbuttoning his jacket. She wanted to feel his skin, and to nuzzle him. She couldn't get enough of him, and he knew he couldn't restrain himself much longer.

“What are you doing?” he whispered as she opened his jacket, and he started unbuttoning her blouse. Within seconds, he had her breasts in his hands, and leaned down to kiss them. She moaned as he pulled her blouse away and took off her bra, and by then she had taken off his jacket, and he had pulled off his T-shirt, and he was bare chested. The feel of their flesh on each other was hypnotic. “Baby… do you want to stop?” he asked her. He was trying to keep a grip on the situation, but he was losing it quickly. Just looking at her, and feeling her next to him, he could no longer think.

“I know we should stop,” she whispered between his kisses, but she didn't want to. She couldn't. He was all that she wanted. They had been so restrained for so long, and now suddenly all she wanted was to be with him. And as she began to abandon herself to him, he pulled away from her and looked down at her, with all the restraint he could muster, because he loved her so much.

“Kate, listen to me…we don't have to do this if you don't want to….” It was his last effort to save her, but she didn't want to be saved this time. All she wanted was to love him, and be loved.

“I love you so much…. I want you, Joe….” She wanted to make love to him before he left again. After the ceremony that day, she had understood more than ever how ephemeral life was, and how fleeting. He might never come back to her again, and now she wanted to have this with him. He kissed her again in answer to what she had said to him, and he gently peeled the rest of her clothes away, and took his own off, and a moment later they were lying on the bed, their clothes in a heap on the floor beside them. Joe was drawing her exquisite body with gentle fingers, and kissing her everywhere, savoring the moment and the sound and feel of her as she moaned beneath his lips and his fingers. She was kissing him as he entered her, and it only hurt her for an instant, and within seconds she was abandoning herself completely to him. They were both engulfed in passion, and he had never loved anyone as he did her, or given himself so totally. He held nothing back, and it almost frightened him as he felt as though he were going to disappear inside her, his soul blended with hers, his body keening for her. They made love for a long time, and when it was over they were both too spent to move or speak. It was Joe who moved first, as he rolled over carefully on his side, and looked at her more tenderly than he ever had any woman. Kate had opened doors in him he never knew were there.

“I love you, Kate,” he whispered into her hair, and traced a lazy finger down her side, and then covered her gently with the blanket. She was half asleep as she smiled up at him. She felt no shame, no regret, no pain. She had never in her entire life been as happy. She was his at last.

She never went back to her room that night, she stayed with him, and he tucked her into bed and then slipped into it next to her. He wanted to make love to her again, but he didn't want to hurt her. But in the morning, it was Kate who reached for him, and within moments, they found each other, and soared to new heights again. New places had opened in their life together, and new feelings had been born. And when Kate got up and looked at him afterward, she realized that a deeper bond had been formed between them. It didn't matter where he had been, or where he was going now, she knew instinctively that for the rest of their lives, she would be his, and he was irrevocably woven into her. She wouldn't have known how to say it to him, but she knew, as she got into the shower with him, that he owned her. Her soul and the deepest part of her were his.

7

LEAVING JOE IN WASHINGTON was even harder this time than when he had left her in Boston in September. He was part of her now, and he was even more tender with her. It was as though he sensed that she was truly his, and all he wanted was to protect her. He warned her a thousand times to be careful on the way home, to take care of herself, not to do anything foolish. He wished he could have stayed there with her, but he had to go back to England to fly his missions.

And when he left her, it was agonizing for both of them. For the first time in his life, he had held nothing back. He had been vulnerable and strong at the same time, and just as she had, he had given himself to her. Not because he had slept with her, but because he had taken responsibility for her. And leaving now was excruciatingly painful for both of them.

“Write to me every day… Kate, I love you,” he said, before he left her. And when he put her on the train at Union Station, she thought her heart would break as it pulled slowly out of the station. He ran beside it for as long as he could, and then he stood on the platform waving, as she waved at him and tears rolled down her cheeks. She could no longer imagine a life without him, and she truly believed that if he died now, it would kill her. She didn't want to live an hour beyond him. And it reminded her once again of the pain of losing her father, as the train pulled away. Joe awoke feelings of love in her she had never before known. And leaving him brought back feelings of loss she had spent half her lifetime trying to forget.

She sat silently with her eyes closed for most of the trip. It was Christmas Eve, and she knew that he would be on a plane to England before she got home. She wouldn't be back in Boston until late that night, and she knew her parents would be waiting up for her. But she could hardly speak she was so grief stricken when she got off the train and hailed a cab. She could no longer imagine surviving without him. What he had given her, and allowed her to give him, was the glue that would cement them together forever. It had been the final piece of the puzzle. He hadn't asked her to marry him, but he didn't have to. She sensed, just as he did, that the very fiber of their beings had blended and become one.

And when her mother saw her face that night when she came in, as they waited for her in the living room, Kate realized Elizabeth must have thought something terrible had happened. But all that had happened was that Kate missed him so unbearably this time, she couldn't even imagine waiting months or years to see him again, or worse, if something terrible happened. Everything was suddenly different. They had taken down their walls.

“Is something wrong?” her mother asked, looking panicked because Kate looked as though someone had died. Kate shook her head and realized something had, her freedom. She was no longer just a girl in love with a man. She was part of a larger whole, and she felt as though she could not function without him. The past two days had changed everything for her.

“No,” Kate said in a small voice, but she was unconvincing.

“Are you sure? Did you have an argument before he left?” That happened to people sometimes, out of pure tension.

“No, he was wonderful,” and with that, Kate burst into tears and dove into her mother's arms, while her father watched them, looking worried. “What if he gets killed, Mom?… what if he never comes back?” Suddenly all the passion, all the fear, all the longing, all the dreams and needs and excitement and disappointment fused into one giant explosion, like a bomb that had been dropped on her by the fact that he was leaving and going back to England. She could not bear the thought of losing someone she loved again. Just fearing it made her feel like a child.

“We just have to pray that he does come back, sweetheart. That's all we can do. If he's meant to, he'll come back. You have to be brave now.” Her mother spoke gently, looking sadly over Kate's shoulder at her husband, with eyes filled with regret.

“I don't want to be brave,” Kate sobbed. “I want him to come home… I want the war to be over.” She sounded like a child, and her parents ached for her. It was terrible, but half the world was facing the same agonies she was. She was not unique in her sorrow. In fact, she was luckier than most. Others had already lost the men they loved, their sons and brothers and husbands. And Kate still had Joe. For now.

She sat down on the couch with them finally, and regained her composure. Her mother handed her a handkerchief, and her father hugged her. They were both sorry for her. And after her mother had tucked her into bed that night, like a little girl, she went back to her bedroom to her husband. She closed the door with a sigh, and sat down at her dressing table.

“This is exactly what I didn't want for her,” Elizabeth said sadly. “I didn't want her to love him like this. It's too late now. They're not engaged, they're not married. He's made no promises. They have nothing. They just love each other.”

“That's a lot, Liz. Maybe it's all they need. Being married wouldn't keep him alive. It's in God's hands. At least they love each other.”

“If something happens to him now, Clarke, she'll never get over it.” She didn't say it to Clarke, but watching Kate cry that night had reminded her of how bereft Kate had been when her father died.

“She's in the same boat half the women in this country are in. She'll have to get over it, if something happens. She's young. She'd recover.”

“I hope she never has to face that,” her mother said fervently.

But the next morning, Kate was in a somber mood for Christmas. Her mother had given her a beautiful sapphire necklace with matching sapphire earrings, and her father was offering to buy her a two-year-old car he had seen, in perfect condition, if her driving improved. But with gas rationing she had little opportunity to practice, and Elizabeth didn't think it was a good idea. Kate had bought each of them lovely presents. But all she could think about was Joe as she sat silently at Christmas dinner, unable to say a word. She knew he was back in England by then, flying bombing missions again.

For the next several weeks, her spirits never lifted. Her mother was seriously worried about her, and even thinking of taking her to a doctor. She looked tired and pale, whenever she came home for an occasional night from college on the weekends. She seemed to have no social life anymore, and Andy called her at home several times, complaining that he hadn't seen her in ages. All she seemed to want to do was sleep and reread Joe's letters. He sounded almost as depressed in England. It had been hard going back again, and the weather had been foul. They had had to cancel several missions, and the men were restless and bored.

It was Valentine's Day when Kate's mother finally began to panic about her. She had seen Kate the previous day when she came home for Sunday dinner. She barely touched her food, looked tired and pale, and she cried every time she talked about Joe. After she left, Elizabeth told Clarke she wanted to take Kate to a doctor.

“She's just lonely,” he said, dismissing it. “It's cold and dark, she's working hard at school. She'll be all right, Liz. Just give her time. And maybe he'll get another leave soon.” But in February of 1943, he was flying more than ever.

Joe had taken part in the night attack on Wilhelmshaven. He was flying mostly day raids, as the British preferred to do the night flying themselves. But he was nonetheless invited to fly at night with them in the bombing of Nuremberg.

It was another week, toward the end of February, when Kate herself began to panic. She had seen Joe eight weeks before, and she had suspected it at first, and been certain for the past month. She was pregnant. It had happened in Washington when he came home to be decorated at the White House. She had no idea what to do about it, and she didn't want to tell her parents. She had gotten the name of a doctor in Mattapan from one of the girls at school, pretending it was for a friend of hers, but she couldn't make herself call him. She knew it would ruin everything if she had a baby now. She'd have to leave school, and it would scandalize everyone, and even if they wanted to, they couldn't get married. Joe had told her recently that he had no hope of coming home on leave anytime soon, and she hadn't told him why she had asked. She just told him that she missed him. But she would never have wanted to force him to marry her, or even ask him to. But she also knew that if she had an abortion, and something happened to him, she would never forgive herself. Married or not, she would want the baby. Rather than making a decision about it, she was letting time pass, and eventually she knew it would be too late to end it. But she hadn't even begun to think of what she would say to her parents after that, or her embarrassment, when she explained her circumstances to school.

Andy dropped by to see her in the dining room one night, and asked if she had the flu. Everyone at Harvard had been sick, and he thought she looked ill. She had been violently nauseous since early January, and it was nearly the first of March. She had almost decided to go ahead with the pregnancy by then, she knew she couldn't do otherwise, and in truth she wanted it. It was Joe's baby. She was going to wait to tell her parents until she had no other choice. She also figured that if it showed by Easter, she'd have to drop out of school by then. She would have liked to hold out till June and finish her sophomore year, and she could have come back to school in the fall right after she had the baby. But by June, when vacation would begin, she'd be nearly six months pregnant, and there would be no way she could hide it. Sooner or later, she was going to have to face the music. The only amazing thing, as far as Kate was concerned, was that her mother didn't suspect a thing. But once she did, Kate knew, there would be hell to pay, and she knew her parents wouldn't forgive Joe easily.

She had said nothing to Joe about it, although she wrote to him every day. She had debated, but didn't want to upset him, or make him angry. He needed all his wits about him to fly his missions, and she didn't want to distract him. So she was facing it entirely alone, retching on her bathroom floor every morning, and dragging herself to classes. Even her housemates had noticed that she slept all the time, and the house mother asked her if she needed to see a doctor. Kate insisted she was fine, just studying too hard, but her grades were starting to slip, and all of her professors had noticed that as well. Her life was rapidly turning into a nightmare, and she was terrified of what her parents were going to say, when she told them she was having a baby in September, out of wedlock. She was worried that her father was going to try to force Joe to marry her when he came back, but she was not going to let him do that. She knew what a free spirit Joe was, and he had been very clear about never wanting to have children. He might adjust one day, and fall in love with the baby, but she was not going to let anyone put a gun to his head to marry her. The only thing she was sure of in the midst of all her worries these days was how much she loved him, and the other thing she knew was how much she wanted his child. She made her peace with it in early March, and she was even a little excited about it. It was her secret. She had told no one, and didn't plan to anytime soon.

“So what's happening to you these days?” Andy asked her one afternoon, when he dropped by from Harvard. He was having an excruciatingly busy first year of law school, and was feeling utterly swamped. They were walking slowly through Harvard Yard as he talked to her, and his long lanky good looks and dark hair caught the attention of every girl who walked by. They were beginning to look desperate these days, and Andy was getting a lot of attention from the Radcliffe girls.

“You're spoiled rotten,” Kate teased him, and he grinned. He had a beautiful smile, and big dark eyes that were filled with warmth and kindness.

“Hell, somebody has to take care of these girls for our boys in uniform. It's hard work, but someone has to do it.” He was actually enjoying being at home these days, and was getting over being embarrassed by being 4-F. He had explained it so many times that he was no longer as sensitive about it. And there were times when he was secretly glad to be home.

“You're disgusting, Andy Scott,” Kate reassured him. She enjoyed his company, and they had become good friends in the past two years.

He was going to work at the hospital again that summer. She had been dragging her feet about a summer job, because she knew she'd be showing by then, and as an unmarried mother, no one would want to hire her. She was thinking about staying at their house on Cape Cod until she had the baby. And in a few weeks she was going to advise Radcliffe that she would be taking a leave of absence, starting at Easter. It meant she wouldn't graduate with her class. But with luck, it would only cost her one semester. And she would have a great reward for it, if they would take her back. She would have to tell them why she was leaving. She wasn't the first woman it had happened to, and she had made her peace with it. She wondered what Joe would think of it when he found out. She wasn't going to tell him until he next came home, even if that meant her having the baby without his knowing. And she was such good friends with Andy now, she was almost sorry not to tell him. But she knew she couldn't. And he would probably be shocked when he heard. She worried at times now that he would think less of her once he found out. But it was a price she was prepared to pay.

“So what are you doing this summer, Kate? The Red Cross again?”

“Probably,” she said vaguely, but he didn't notice that she was distracted. She looked better than she had in February, and he was trying to convince her to go to a movie with him. She went with him occasionally, more so now that he had given up on her as a potential date, and accepted her as a friend. But she had a paper due the next day, and said that this time she couldn't go with him.

“You're no fun. Well, at least I'm glad you're looking better. You looked like death the last time I saw you.” The nausea was actually beginning to abate, she was almost three months pregnant, and nearly at the end of her first trimester. She was getting excited about the baby, and hoped it would be a little boy, who would look exactly like Joe.

“I had the flu,” she reiterated, and he had believed her all along. He had no reason to doubt her, or suspect she might be pregnant. It was the farthest thing from his mind.

“I'm glad you're over it. Do your paper so we can go to a movie next week,” he said, as he hopped on his bicycle, and waved as he rode off, his dark hair ruffled by the wind, and his brown eyes laughing at her. He was a nice boy, and she had grown very fond of him.

She wondered at times if things would have been different between them if Joe had never existed. It was hard to say. She had deep feelings of affection for Andy but couldn't even imagine feeling for him what she felt for Joe. There was something warm and cuddly and kind about Andy, but he elicited none of the excitement and passion that she felt for Joe. But she knew that one day, Andy would make someone a fine husband. He was responsible and loving and decent, all the things that women looked for in a man. Unlike Joe, who was awkward and vague, and brilliant, and totally obsessed with airplanes, and had no desire to settle down. She had never expected to fall in love with a man like Joe Allbright, let alone have a baby with him, without even being married. Her life had taken several sharp turns recently, in totally unexpected directions. But with his baby growing in her, she had never been more in love with Joe.

She was actually feeling very well that weekend, and not nearly as tired as she had been. She'd finished the work she had to do, and she had three letters from Joe in one day. They tended to arrive in clumps like that sometimes, it had to do with the way the censors sent them, after they cleared them, to make sure that no one gave away sensitive security secrets, or the locations of their missions. Joe's letters to her had never been a problem. He wrote to her about people, and the local countryside, and his feelings for her, all totally safe subjects.

She had been planning to go home that weekend, and at the last minute decided against it. She went to a movie with a group of friends, and saw Andy there with a girl Kate knew from one of her classes. She was a tall blonde from the Midwest, she had a great smile and long legs, and she had recently transferred from Wellesley. She grinned at Andy when the girl turned away to put her cardigan on, and he made a face at her. Kate and the girls she had gone to the movie with all went back to the house on their bicycles afterward. It was the best way to travel around campus and Cambridge. They were almost home, when a boy on a bicycle came whizzing out of nowhere, cut through the group with a holler and a whoop, and hit Kate so hard she went flying off her bike, fell to the pavement, and was knocked momentarily unconscious. By the time the other girls got off their bikes, she was awake again, but a little groggy. And the boy who had hit her was standing next to her looking panicked and disoriented. It was obvious that he was drunk.

“Are you crazy?” one of the girls shouted at him, as two others helped Kate to her feet. She had hurt her arm, and her hip, she had fallen hard on her bottom, but nothing seemed to be broken. But all she could think about as she limped back to her room was her baby. She didn't say anything to anyone, but she went straight to bed as soon as they got back to the house, and one of her friends brought her a couple of ice packs for her arm and her hip.

“Are you okay?” Diana asked in her long, slow southern accent. “These northern boys sure don't have manners!”

Kate smiled at her, and thanked her for the ice packs, but it wasn't her arm or her hip that was bothering her. She had had cramps for the past several minutes, and didn't know what to do about it. She thought about going to the infirmary but it was too far to walk, and she was afraid that might make things even worse. She thought maybe if she just stayed in bed, it would get better. She had obviously shaken up the baby pretty badly. But hopefully, it would settle down.

“If you need anything, just call me,” Diana said as she left Kate, and went downstairs to smoke a cigarette with a boy from MIT who had dropped by to visit. And when she came back an hour later to check on Kate, she was sleeping. Everyone was sound asleep by the time Kate woke up again at four o'clock in the morning. She was in agony, and when she rolled over in her bed to try and get more comfortable, she saw that she was bleeding. She tried to keep quiet, in spite of the pain, so she wouldn't wake the other girls sleeping near her. And she was doubled over in pain as she made her way to the bathroom. She didn't see it, but she left a trail of blood behind her as she walked. Her arm and her hip hurt too, from the encounter with the bicycle, but nothing was as painful as her belly. She could hardly stand.

She closed the door to the bathroom as quietly as she could, and turned the light on, and when she looked in the mirror she saw that everything from her waist down was covered in blood. She was hemorrhaging, and knew what was happening. She was losing Joe's baby. But she was afraid that if she called someone, she might get kicked out of school, or they might call her parents. She didn't know what the consequences would be if the administration found out she was pregnant. She assumed she'd be asked to leave.

This wasn't the way she had wanted things to happen. She had no idea what to do, or who to call, or what was about to happen. But she had no time to think about it, the pains that had awakened her were suddenly so severe that she could hardly breathe. She was being hit by wave after wave of powerful contractions. She was on her knees on the floor, gasping for air, with blood everywhere, when Diana, the southern girl, wandered in for a drink of water and found her on the floor.

“Oh my God… Kate… what happened?” She looked like the victim of an ax murder, and all Diana could think of was that they had to call a doctor, an ambulance, someone, but as she said as much to Kate, she begged her not to.

“Don't… please… I can't… Diana…” She couldn't even finish her sentence, but the girl from New Orleans suddenly suspected what had happened to her.

“Are you pregnant? Tell me the truth, Kate.” She wanted to help her, but had to know what was happening to her. Her mother was a nurse, and her father a doctor, and she had good experience with first aid. But she had never seen as much blood as the pool rapidly spreading around Kate. She was afraid she'd bleed to death if they didn't call someone to help them. Not getting Kate to the hospital seemed like a big chance to take.

“Yes, I am…” Kate choked and admitted she was pregnant, as Diana helped her roll over onto a stack of towels. Kate was crying at each pain now, and biting a towel to stay silent and not make any noise. “Almost three months….”

“Shit. I had an abortion once. My daddy nearly killed me. I was seventeen, and I was afraid to tell him … so I went to someone outside town…. I was as bad as you are… poor baby,” she said, putting a damp cloth on Kate's head, and holding her hand now with each contraction. She had locked the door so no one could walk in on them, but what she feared most was that she would cost Kate her life if she didn't get help for her. The bleeding was horrific. But it seemed to slow a little as the pains got worse. Neither of them was sure what was happening, but it was easy to figure out that Kate was going to expel the baby. There was no way it was still alive with all that bleeding.

It was another hour of excruciating pain before Kate's entire body writhed in agony, and within seconds, she lost the baby. She lost more blood, but as soon as it was out, she seemed to be losing less. Diana was mopping up what she could with towels, and she had wrapped the fetus in a towel and put it where Kate couldn't see it. She was too weak to even be hysterical, and when she tried to sit up, she almost fainted. Diana had her lie down again.

It was nearly seven o'clock, and they had been in the bathroom for three hours, before Diana could help Kate back to bed. Everything had been cleaned up, and once she was sure that Kate was safely tucked into bed, she ran downstairs to the garbage room, to dispose of the towel that held the evidence of what had happened to Kate.

The bleeding was less out of control, and she was still in pain, but it was tolerable. Diana explained that it was her uterus contracting to stop the bleeding, which was a good thing. The earlier pains had been to expel the baby. And if she didn't bleed too much more, Diana hoped that she would be all right. She had already told Kate that if it got any worse she was calling an ambulance and sending her to the hospital, no matter how much Kate objected. And Kate had agreed, she was terrified and too weak to argue, and in shock from losing so much blood. She was shaking violently, as Diana put three more blankets on her bed, and the other girls began stirring.

“Are you okay?” one of them asked as she got up. They had class that morning. “You look kind of pale, Kate. Maybe you got a concussion when that guy knocked you off your bike last night.” She was yawning as she headed for the bathroom, and Kate said she had a terrible headache, and was still visibly shaking as she lay tucked into her bed.

Diana continued to hover over her, and a girl from another room came in to borrow some towels, and looked worried when she saw Kate's ashen lips, and her face, she was the color of chalk.

“What happened to you last night?” the girl asked, and came over to take Kate's pulse.

“She fell off her bike and hit her head,” Diana covered for her, but the other girl knew better. Like Diana, she came from a medical family, in New York, and she knew enough to understand that Kate had more than a headache or a concussion. She was so gray, she looked like she'd lost a lot of blood, and was possibly even in shock.

She leaned her face down close to Kate's ear, and gently touched her shoulder. “Kate … tell me the truth… are you bleeding?…” All Kate could do was nod her head and shake. Her teeth were chattering so hard she couldn't even speak. “I think you're in shock…. Did you have an abortion?” she whispered. Kate had always liked her, and was willing to trust her with the information. She knew she was in trouble. She was feeling dizzy and her body had been so traumatized that she was freezing and couldn't stop shaking, in spite of the stack of blankets Diana had put on her. Both girls were standing next to her bed looking worried sick.

“No,” Kate whispered to the girl, whose name was Beverly. “I lost it.”

“Are you hemorrhaging?” She didn't think so, the bed didn't feel damp around her. She was afraid to look.

“I don't think so.”

“I'm going to cut class today and stay with you. You shouldn't be alone here. Do you want to go to the hospital?” Kate shook her head no in answer. It was the last thing she wanted.

“I'll stay too,” Diana volunteered, and went to get her a cup of tea. Half an hour later, all the other girls had gone to their classes, and the two caretakers sat on either side of Kate's bed. She was wide awake, and crying intermittently. The entire experience had terrified and depressed her.

“You'll be okay, Kate,” Beverly said quietly. “I had an abortion last year. It was awful. Just try to sleep, you'll feel better in a day or two. You'll be surprised how fast you get better.” And then she thought of something. “Is there anyone you want me to call?” Obviously, there was another person involved in this, and she didn't know Kate's situation. But Kate shook her head.

“He's in England,” she whispered, through teeth that were beginning to clench. She had never felt as awful in her life, the loss of blood had shaken her entire system to the core.

“Does he know?” Diana asked, as she patted Kate's shoulder and Kate looked at her gratefully. She couldn't have gotten through it without her. And this way, no one would know, neither Radcliffe nor her parents. Nor Joe.

“I didn't tell him. I was going to have the baby.”

“You can have another one when he comes home.” Beverly didn't add “if he lives,” which was what all three of them were thinking as Kate started to cry again. It was a long, lonely day for her, and it was another two days before she felt even halfway human.

Diana and Beverly went back to class the next day, and Kate just lay in her bed and cried all day long. It was Wednesday before she got out of bed, and when she did, she looked ghostly and had lost ten pounds. She hadn't eaten since Sunday, but the bleeding had almost stopped. She looked and felt terrible, and there were dark circles under her eyes, but all three girls agreed, she was out of danger. She tried to thank them for what they'd done for her, but every time she did, she started crying again.

“It's going to be like that for a while,” Beverly warned. “I cried for a month. It's just hormones.” But it wasn't just hormones, it was their baby. She had lost a part of Joe.

No one knew what had happened to her, and they all thought in the house that she was in bed as a result of her bike accident on Sunday night. And she never told anyone anything different. She felt as though she had been on another planet for several days. Everything seemed unreal and different, and the only thing that cheered her up were Joe's letters. But she cried again when she realized that she couldn't even tell him what had happened, and what they'd lost.

She spent the following weekend in bed, studying. She was quiet and pale, and still didn't look well when Andy dropped by on Saturday afternoon. It had been a week since the miscarriage, but she still looked awful. She made her way gingerly downstairs to see him. Beverly and Diana had been bringing her food from the cafeteria all week. And the first time she left her room was to see Andy, as he waited for her in the living room downstairs.

“Jesus, Kate, you look legally dead. What happened to you?” She looked so fragile and pale that he was frightened for her. She was wraithlike.

“I got hit by a bike last Sunday night. I think I had a concussion.”

“Did you go to the hospital to get it checked out?”

“No, I'm okay,” she said, sitting in a chair next to him, but he was genuinely worried about her.

“I think you should see a doctor. Maybe you're brain dead,” he grinned at her.

“Very funny. I feel better.”

“I'd hate to have seen you on Monday.”

“Yes, you would have,” she said, but seeing him brought her back into the world again and she was less depressed when she went back to her room, although she was bone tired. Diana had warned her that she would be anemic for a while, and told her to eat lots of liver.

But by the following week, she seemed more herself, and felt well enough to go back to classes. No one had any idea what had happened to her, and as the weeks went by, she quietly put it behind her. She never told Joe.

8

FOR THE REST OF KATE'S sophomore year, she was busy with school. She got letters from Joe constantly, but there were no leaves on the horizon for him. It was the spring of 1943, and Kate went to see newsreels every chance she got, hoping to catch a glimpse of Joe's face.

The RAF was continuing to bomb Berlin and Hamburg, and other cities. Tunis had been taken by the British, and the Americans had taken Bizerte, in North Africa, back from the Germans. On the eastern front the Germans and Russians had almost come to a dead halt, up to their knees in mud, in the spring thaw.

Kate saw her parents frequently on the weekends, wrote to Joe, and went to dinner or the movies occasionally with Andy. He had a new girlfriend from Wellesley that spring, and was spending time with her. It left him less time for Kate, but she didn't mind. She, Diana, and Beverly had become fast friends after her miscarriage. And that summer she was working for the Red Cross again.

They went to Cape Cod at the end of August, but this time Joe didn't appear to surprise her at the barbecue. He hadn't been home in eight months, since the previous Christmas, when they met in Washington. And she couldn't help thinking, as she took long solitary walks on the beach that, if she hadn't lost the baby, she'd be eight months pregnant by then. Her parents never found out what had happened. And her mother was still talking about the fact that Joe had still made no promises about a future with her. She reminded Kate constantly that she was waiting for a man who had promised her nothing. No marriage. No ring. No future. He just expected her to wait for him, and see what happened when he came home. She was twenty years old, and he was thirty-two, old enough to know what he wanted to do when he returned.

Her mother constantly reminded Kate of it every time she went home, and continued to, as the leaves had begun to turn in late October. Kate was studying for exams, it was her junior year, and the house mother where she lived came to tell her she had a visitor downstairs. Without even questioning it, Kate assumed it was Andy. He was in his second year of law school, and working like a slave.

She ran quickly down the stairs, with a book still in her hand, and a pale blue sweater over her shoulders. She was wearing a gray skirt, and saddle shoes, and the moment her foot left the last step, she saw him. It was Joe, looking tall and incredibly handsome in his uniform. He looked very serious as he waited for her, and her breath caught as their eyes met. He seemed to hold back for an instant, and then without a word she flew into his arms and he held her close. She had the feeling as he held her that he had been through some rough times. He couldn't seem to find the words, but she knew that she not only needed him, but he needed her, as well. The war was taking a toll on everyone, even Joe.

“I'm so happy to see you,” she said, still in his arms as she closed her eyes. It had been an agonizing ten months, worrying about him constantly, losing their baby, never knowing how he was.

“So am I,” he said, pulling away from her finally, and looking in her eyes. It was easy to see how tired he was. He felt as though he was in the air almost constantly these days, and a heartbreaking number of their planes had been shot down. The Germans were getting desperate and hitting hard. He looked at her somberly then, and she realized that he felt awkward with her again. It took him time sometimes to open up with her, and readjust. His letters were so easy and candid with her that she forgot sometimes how shy he was. “I've only got twenty-four hours, Kate. I have to be in Washington tomorrow afternoon, and I'm going back tomorrow night.” He was in the States for meetings involving a top secret mission, and he had been flown in with great difficulty. But he could share none of that with her, and she didn't ask. Something about the way he looked told her that there was very little he could say. And it was even stranger to realize that if she hadn't lost the baby in March, he would have returned to find he had a one-month-old child. But he knew nothing of all that. “Can you leave school for a while?” It was almost dinnertime, and she had no plans. She would have canceled them for him anyway.

“Sure. Do you want to go to my house?” It would be nice to have some privacy, and if they sat in the visiting room at school, they had to adhere to all the college's codes and visiting rules. After ten months, they both wanted more freedom than that.

“Can we be alone somewhere?” He just wanted to relax, and be with her. Even after all this time, he didn't want to talk. He just wanted to look at her, and feel her next to him. He was too tired to find the right words. Kate could sense viscerally how disheartened he was.

“Do you want to go to a hotel?” she asked in a voice no one could hear. There were other people standing around in the hall. He looked at her with relief, and nodded. He just wanted to lie next to her for a while. And Kate's mind raced, as she made plans. “Why don't you call the Palmer House from the phone booth outside. Or the Statler. I'll be back in a few minutes.” She went to the desk to sign out to go home for the night, and she called her mother from the phone in the hall upstairs. She told her she was spending the night at a friend's, so they could study peacefully for exams, and she didn't want her mother to worry if she called. Her mother thought that was sweet of her, and said she appreciated the call. Kate knew it would never even occur to her mother that the story was a lie.

Five minutes later, Kate was back in the lobby again, and Joe was waiting for her outside. She had brought a few things in a small bag, and she had packed a diaphragm. Beverly had given her the name of a doctor, and Kate had gone to him and said she was engaged. After what had happened the last time, Kate wanted to be prepared when Joe came home.

“They had a room at the Statler,” he said nervously.

They both felt a little awkward going straight to a hotel, but they had so little time, and they wanted to be alone. He had borrowed a car, and they talked as they drove to the hotel. She couldn't take her eyes off him. He was as handsome as ever, although he was very thin. And he looked considerably older than he had a year before, or maybe just more mature. There were so many things she wanted to say to him, things she felt awkward putting in her letters to him, and so many things he wanted to ask her.

As they drove to the hotel, they both started to unwind. It was as though they had seen each other just yesterday, and in another sense, she felt as though she hadn't seen him in years. But the odd thing was that after sleeping with him the last time, and then losing their baby, she felt almost married to him. She didn't need a piece of paper, or a ceremony or a wedding ring. No matter what the legalities, she was his.

Joe took a small bag out of the trunk of the car when they got to the hotel, and then parked the car in the garage. He met Kate in the lobby and signed in. They were registered as Major and Mrs. Allbright, and they were treated with considerable respect. The desk clerk had recognized his name. And a bellhop offered to carry his bag upstairs.

“No, we'll be fine.” Joe smiled at him, as the desk clerk handed him the key.

Joe and Kate took the elevator upstairs without saying a word, and she was relieved to see when he opened the door that it was a pretty room. She had expected something depressing and small, not that it mattered to them, but there was something a little tawdry about checking into a hotel with a man. She had never done that before, and it seemed very bold to her. But she was not going to miss the opportunity of spending the night with him, particularly if it was the only night he had on leave. Like everyone else in their circumstances, they were living each day as though it were going to be their last, as well it might be.

There was a moment of awkwardness again between them once they got to the room, but as Joe sprawled out on the couch with a nervous look and patted the seat next to him, she smiled as she sat down.

“I can't believe you're here,” she said with a look in her eyes that told him how much he had been missed.

“Neither can I,” he said. Two days before he had been providing fighter escort cover for bombers over Berlin, and they had lost four planes. And now suddenly, he was sitting in a hotel room in Boston with her, and she was prettier than ever. She looked so young and so fresh and so far from the life he had been leading for nearly two years. They had given him two hours' notice of the trip, and he was lucky they'd given him leave, no matter how brief. On the way over, he had been afraid that he wouldn't be able to see her at all. The night at the Statler was an unexpected gift. And to Joe, at least, it seemed somewhat surreal. They were like homing pigeons that always came back to each other, no matter where they had been. They always found each other, whether in Cape Cod, or Washington, or here, and they would pick up the familiar threads again. Remarkably, no matter how long they'd been away from each other, the same fire and magic was always there.

He kissed her then, without saying another word. It was as though he needed her to comfort him, to soothe the wounds in his soul. He just needed to drink from the peaceful fountain she offered him. It was as though she understood exactly what he needed from her. And in turn, when she was with him, no matter how limited the words, she always knew how much she was loved. It was a perfect exchange.

A few minutes later, he walked over to the bed with her. He felt a little guilty as they undressed. He had planned to take her to dinner, and spend some time talking to her before they made love, but neither of them wanted to be around people or in a restaurant. They just wanted to be alone with each other and what they felt. They didn't even need words.

He kissed her with gentleness and passion as they lay on the bed, and as he undressed her, he realized how hungry for her he had been. Much to his own surprise, there had been no one else. In the ten months that they'd been apart, he hadn't wanted anyone but her. And Kate only wanted him.

She was embarrassed when she left him to go to the bathroom for a few minutes, and he didn't ask her about it until long after they had made love, and lay in each other's arms, sated and quiet, and drifting in their isolated, safe, little world. And feeling shy about it, she told him about the diaphragm, and he seemed relieved.

“I worried about that for months after last time,” he said honestly. “I kept wondering what we'd do if you got pregnant. I couldn't even have come back to marry you,” he said, and she was touched by his words. It was nice to know he thought that way, and had been concerned for her. She had had no idea how he'd react, and she felt safe enough now to tell him what had happened to her.

“I got pregnant last time, Joe,” she said in a soft voice, as he held her close. Her head was on his shoulder, and her hair was brushing his cheek. And he turned his head to look at her.

“Are you serious? What did you do about it?” He looked as though a lightning bolt had just hit them both. It had long since slipped his mind, she'd never said anything to him, and it had never dawned on him that they might have a child by then. “Or… do we … did you…” She smiled at the look on his face. It wasn't so much fear as astonishment. And he wanted to know why she had never told him. She grew immeasurably in his eyes when he realized that, whatever had happened, she had handled it on her own.

“I lost it in March. I didn't know what to do, but I knew that if something happened to you, I'd never forgive myself if I'd done anything about it. I had to have it, if that was meant to be. I was almost three months pregnant when I lost it,” she said, and there were tears in her eyes as she told him. He tightened his grip wordlessly around her.

“Do your parents know?” He could easily imagine that they were furious with him, and justifiably so. He felt guilty as hell knowing what she'd been through.

“No, they don't,” she reassured him, snuggling closer to him. Whatever comfort he hadn't been able to give, he was offering her now. “I was going to leave school in April, and tell them then. There was nothing else I could do. I got hit by a kid riding a bicycle, and I guess that started it. He hit me pretty hard, and it knocked me out. I lost the baby that night.”

“Were you at the hospital?” He looked horrified. This had never happened to him before, although it had happened to many of his friends. But he'd never gotten a girl in trouble before, and he'd always been careful, except with her.

“I was at school, but two of the girls in my house took care of me,” she said discreetly, and spared him the details. She knew he would have been even more upset if he had seen the state she'd been in. It had taken months to feel like herself again. She had lost so much blood, it took a long time to get fully back on her feet. But she was fine by then. Joe was amazed too by the thought that if the pregnancy had come to full term, they would have had a one-month-old child. It was mind-boggling to him.

“You know, it's funny. I thought about it for a long time. I kept thinking you were going to tell me that had happened. I don't know why, but when I got back to England, it was all I could think about, I was so sure. But you never said anything, and I didn't want to ask. I didn't know if anyone reads your mail at school. And then I guess I forgot about it. But for a couple of months, I just had this weird feeling. Why didn't you tell me, Kate?” He looked sad that she hadn't, but he understood. And he admired her for it, more than she knew. She had handled it all herself, and recovered from it, seemingly with no bitterness toward him. He was grateful for that, and touched by how brave she had been. He could sense by the way she spoke of it, that it had been hard for her, in a number of ways.

“I thought you had enough to worry about, without adding that.” He nodded, and pulled her even closer to him.

“It was my baby too.” It would have been, and she was sorry all over again. There was nothing she wanted more than to be with him, and have his child, but it hadn't been meant to be, so far at least. And given what was happening in their lives, it seemed to be for the best, even to her, and surely to him. “I'm glad you're being careful now.” He had brought prophylactics with him too this time. He didn't want to be irresponsible with her, and take a risk. And the last thing he felt they needed was a child to complicate their lives.

They talked about the war for a while then, and she asked him how long he thought it would go on. He sighed as he answered her. “It's hard to say. I wish I could say it'll be over soon. I don't know, Kate. If we pummel the hell out of the Krauts, maybe a year.” That was part of why he was going to Washington, to see if they could speed up the pummeling with some extraordinary new planes. It had been discouraging so far, the Germans just kept coming at them relentlessly in waves. No matter how many Germans the Allies killed, or how many cities and factories and munitions dumps they destroyed, they always seemed to have more. They were a seemingly indestructible machine.

And the war in the Pacific hadn't been going well. They were fighting a people from a culture and on a terrain that was completely unfamiliar to them. Kamikaze planes were bombing aircraft carriers, ships were being sunk, planes were being shot down. And by the fall of 1943, Allied spirits were low.

It seemed to Kate these days that an incredible number of people she knew had died. It was devastating. A number of boys she had met at Harvard and MIT in the past two years were already gone. She was just grateful that nothing had happened to Joe.

They talked a lot that night, which was unusual for him, but they had so little time, so much pulling at them. They didn't have time to unwind, to warm up, to coast along. They just had to be there, and be all they could, in the little time they had. And for the rest of the evening, they both tried not to think about the war.

They made love again late that night, and never went out. They ordered dinner in the room, and the room service waiter asked if it was their honeymoon, and they both laughed. They never spoke of the future that night, or of any plans. All she wanted for him was to stay alive. She couldn't think of what she wanted for herself, she just wanted to be with him, when and where she could, for however long. More than that was like asking for a miracle at this point, a childish dream. She knew her mother wouldn't have approved of it, but she didn't understand. An engagement ring on her finger wouldn't have changed anything, and it wouldn't have kept him alive. And Joe asked nothing of her, except what Kate wanted to give of her own free will, and to the best of her abilities, she gave it all.

They both slept fitfully that night, holding each other and then drifting apart, and waking with a start when they realized that it wasn't a dream, and they were really together.

“Hi,” she said sleepily, as she smiled and opened an eye early the next morning. She had felt his warmth next to her all night, and she could feel his strong powerful legs next to her as she stretched, and he leaned over and kissed her. The night he had spent with her had been a far cry from what he was used to now.

“Did you sleep all right?” he asked, and put an arm around her as she snuggled closer to him. They were lying on their backs, whispering. She loved waking up next to him.

“I kept feeling you next to me, and thinking I was dreaming.” Neither of them was accustomed to sleeping with anyone next to them, and it had kept them from sleeping deeply, no matter how happy they were together.

“So did I,” he smiled, and thought about their love-making the night before. He wanted to savor every moment he spent with her and take the memory of it with him.

“What time do you have to leave?” she asked, with a sad edge to her voice. It was impossible to forget that these were only borrowed hours.

“I have to be on a plane to Washington at one o'clock. I should drop you off at school around eleven-thirty” She had cut all her classes that morning, and she wouldn't have cared about the consequences, nothing would have made her leave him earlier than she had to. “Do you want breakfast?” She wasn't hungry, except for him, and within minutes, as they kissed and his hands began to wander, they found each other again.

At nine o'clock they got up and ordered breakfast. When room service came, they had showered separately, and were wearing the hotel's terrycloth robes. They had orange juice and toast, and ham and eggs, and shared a pot of coffee. It was beyond lavish to Joe, who had been living on military rations for so long he had almost forgotten what real food was. To Kate, it was far more ordinary, but what wasn't was the sheer joy of looking at him across the table. His almost stern, sharply chiseled face looked beautiful to her as he sat drinking his coffee and reading the paper for a minute. And then his eyes moved toward hers, and he smiled.

“Just like real life, isn't it? Who'd know there's a war on.” Except the newspaper was full of it, and none of it sounded good. He put the paper down and smiled across the table at Kate. They had shared a wonderful evening, and whenever he was with her, it was like finding the missing piece of him. It was as though there was a void in him he was never aware of, until he saw her. The rest of the time, other things seemed to fill it. He wasn't a person who needed a lot of people. But this one woman in particular touched him deeply. As few had in fact, or any. He had never known anyone quite like her. It struck him again as he sat across the table, looking at her. Her eyes were so deep and so powerful, there was something so direct and open and unafraid about her. She was like a young doe sniffing the air, and liking what she sensed. She always looked excited about life, and as though she were about to burst into laughter, and this morning was no different. As she put her coffee cup down, she was suddenly grinning at him.

“What are you smiling about?” he asked, with a look of amusement. Her good humor was contagious. By nature, he was far less jovial than she was. It wasn't that he was unhappy, he was just serious and quiet, and she liked that about him.

“I was just thinking of my mother's face if she could see us.”

“Don't even think about it. It makes me feel guilty. And your father would kill me, and I can't say that I blame him.” Particularly after what she had told him about getting pregnant and losing the baby. He knew that the Jamisons would have been horrified, as well they should be. “I'm not sure I can ever face them again,” Joe said, looking worried.

“Well, you may have to, so you'd better get over it.” As she had. Particularly now that she'd seen Joe. She was almost sorry she'd used the birth control device, she really wished she could have his baby. She wanted that much more than she wanted to be married. Because Joe never talked about their getting married, in order to make her peace with it, she was beginning to tell herself that marriage was something old people did, everyone made such a big deal of it, and her friends that got married all seemed like silly children, or so she said. She claimed to Joe at least that all they cared about were the wedding presents and the bridesmaids, and afterward they complained that the boys they'd married spent too much time with their friends, or drank too much, or were mean to them. They all seemed like kids pretending to be adults. But having his baby was a bond like no other. It was real and deep and important, and had nothing to do with other people. Even knowing the problems it would cause for her, she had loved knowing she was having his baby, when she'd been pregnant. She knew then that she would have a part of him with her forever, and probably the best part. She had been hoping she'd have a little boy, and she was going to teach him all about airplanes just like Joe. Kate was always terrified now of losing Joe to the war. And a baby would be a piece of him that would remain forever hers.

Joe could see, as he looked at her, that Kate was having tender thoughts about him, and he reached a hand across the table and took hers, and then lifted it to his lips and kissed it. “Don't look so sad, Kate. I'll be back. This story isn't over. It never will be.” He didn't know how prophetic that would prove to be. But she felt exactly as he did.

“Just take care of yourself, Joe. That's all that matters.” It was up to the fates now. He was over there risking his life every day, and who survived and who didn't was in God's hands. In comparison to that, everything else seemed unimportant to them.

After breakfast, they dressed, and they almost didn't leave the room on time. He was kissing and holding her, and they could hardly keep their hands off each other. But he had to drop her off at school and get to the airport on time. He couldn't be late for his meeting in Washington, or worse, miss the plane. What had brought him back from England was serious business, and important to the outcome of the war in Europe. He loved Kate, but he had no choice but to keep it all in perspective. He had important things to do that didn't include her.

As he drove her back to school, they were both quiet as Kate glanced at him. She wanted to remember what he looked like at this exact moment, to keep her warm in the days to come. She felt as though everything they were doing was in slow motion. And they reached the Radcliffe campus all too quickly. They got out of the car, and she stood looking up at him with tears in her eyes. She couldn't bear seeing him leave again, but she knew she had to be brave about it. The night they had just spent together had been an unexpected gift.

“Stay safe,” she whispered as he pulled her close to him. “Stay alive” was what she really wanted to say. “I love you, Joe.” It was all she could say to him, as she felt a sob strangling in her throat. She didn't want to make this any harder than it was for either of them.

“I love you too… and next time something important happens to you, I want you to tell me.” There was always the chance that she could get pregnant again, even with birth control, it had happened to plenty of others. But he still appreciated the fact that she hadn't wanted to burden him, and he loved her all the more for it. “Take good care of yourself. And say hello to your parents, if you tell them you saw me.” But she didn't plan to. She didn't want them to suspect that she had gone to a hotel with him. She just prayed that no one had seen them entering or leaving the hotel.

They clung to each other for a long moment, praying that the gods would be good to them, and then she watched him drive away as tears streamed down her cheeks. It was a familiar scene these days, like so many others. There were wounded soldiers in every city and town, who had come home from the war injured and maimed. There were little flags in windows to honor loved ones who were fighting somewhere. There were soldiers and young girls saying tearful goodbyes to each other, and screams of joy when they returned. There were small children standing at the graves of their fathers. Kate and Joe were no different than the others, and luckier than some. It was a serious time for everyone, and a time of tragedy for far too many. All Kate knew for certain was that she was lucky to have Joe.

She stayed in her room for the rest of the day, and cut the rest of her classes that afternoon. She didn't go to dinner that night, in case he called her. And he did, at eight o'clock, after his meeting. He was just about to leave for the airport, but couldn't tell her how his meeting had gone, what time his flight was leaving, or where he was flying to, it was all classified information. She just wished him a safe trip back, and told him how much she loved him, and he did the same. And then she went back to her room, and lay on her bed, thinking about him. It was hard to believe they had known each other for nearly three years now, and so much had happened since they'd met in a ballroom in New York, in his borrowed tails and her evening gown. She had been seventeen then, and a child in so many ways. At twenty, she felt very much a woman. And better yet, she was his.

She went home to her parents that weekend, to study for exams, and get away from the girls in the house. She didn't want to see anyone, she had been pensive and quiet since Joe left. Her mother noticed it as she sat silently all through dinner. She asked Kate if she was all right, and if she'd heard from Joe. Kate insisted she was fine, but neither of her parents believed her. She seemed to be getting older and more mature every day. College had seasoned her certainly, but her relationship with Joe had catapulted her into adulthood in an instant. And worrying about him constantly made her look and feel older still. Everyone was growing up overnight these days.

Her parents talked about it that night in their room, but they both agreed that Kate was far from unique in her worries about Joe. Most of the young girls and women in the country were worried about someone, brothers, boyfriends, husbands, fathers, friends. Almost every man they knew had gone to war.

“It's a shame she didn't fall in love with Andy,” her mother said unhappily. “He'd be perfect for her, and he's not even in the army.” But maybe he was too obvious a choice for her, or possibly just too dull. For all his kindness and good breeding, Andy simply could not compare to Joe. Everything about Joe was dazzling and exciting. He was the personification of a hero in every way.

For the next four weeks, Kate kept busy at school. She did well at her exams, despite the fact that she was distracted. She got letters from Joe regularly, and she was both relieved and disappointed to discover three weeks after he left that she wasn't pregnant. She knew it was better that way. Along with the agony of worrying about him, she didn't need the problems that would have created for her.

When she went home for the Thanksgiving weekend, she looked better than the last time they saw her. And she seemed a little more peaceful. She talked about Joe at dinner with their friends, and was surprisingly knowledgeable about what was happening in Europe. And understandably, she had strong opinions about the Germans, and didn't mince words.

In the end, much to everyone's relief, it proved to be a very pleasant Thanksgiving. And she went to bed that night grateful that she had seen Joe only a month before. She had no idea when he'd come home again, but she knew that the closeness they had shared would hold her for as long as it had to. It was hard to believe he'd already been away for two years.

She slept badly that night, in a sleep filled with odd dreams and strange feelings that woke her through the night. She told her mother about it in the morning, and she teased Kate that she'd probably eaten too much chestnut stuffing.

“I used to love chestnuts when I was a child,” Elizabeth said, making breakfast for her husband, “and my grandmother always said they'd give me indigestion. They still do, but I love them anyway.” Kate felt better that morning. She went shopping with a friend that afternoon, and they had tea at the Statler, which made her think of Joe and the night they'd spent there. And by the time she came home, she was in good spirits. But even when she was, she was more serious these days. She seemed more sensible, and not as mischievous as she had been before she went to college. It was as though knowing Joe, or maybe just fearing for him in the circumstances he was in, had turned her further inward. She kept to herself more than she ever had.

She went back to school on Sunday night, and had nightmares again, and as she woke from a bad dream, she could still remember seeing planes falling all around her. The dream had been so loud it seemed real. It made her feel so panicky that she got out of bed and went to get dressed long before any of the others had risen, and she went to the dining room for breakfast very early, and sat there quietly alone.

She didn't know why, but she had bad dreams all week, and couldn't sleep at night. She was exhausted when her father reached her on Thursday afternoon, and Kate was startled to hear Clarke's voice. He had never once called her at Radcliffe. He asked if she'd like to come home for dinner that night, and she told him she had work to do, but the more she tried to get out of it, the more insistent he became, and she finally relented and agreed. It seemed odd to her, and she was a little concerned. She wondered if one of them was sick, and they wanted to tell her. She hoped not.

As soon as Kate walked into the house, she knew something had happened. Her parents were waiting for her in the living room, and her mother had her back to her so Kate wouldn't see her crying. She was devastated for her.

It was her father who told her the news. He felt more capable of it than Kate's mother did. As soon as Kate sat down, he looked straight at her and told her he'd gotten a telegram that morning, and he had called Washington himself to find out everything he could.

“I don't have good news,” he said, as Kate's eyes grew wide. This wasn't about them, she suddenly realized, it was about her, and she could feel her heart pound. She didn't want to hear what he was saying, but she knew she had to. She didn't make a sound as she watched his face. “Joe listed you as his next of kin, Kate, along with some cousins he hasn't seen in years.” Kate's mother had accepted the dreaded telegram, and called Clarke at the office, as she opened it. And Clarke had immediately called someone he knew in the War Department for further details, none of which were good. He didn't waste more time then. Kate was holding her breath. “He was shot down over Germany last Friday morning.” It had been a week, and on Thursday night she had begun having those hideous dreams about planes free-falling through the sky. It had been Friday morning in Europe. “They saw his plane go down, and they have a rough idea of where he landed. He parachuted out at the last minute, and he may have been killed on the way down, or he may have been captured. But they've had no word of him through their underground sources since. There's been no sign of him on the lists of officers who've been captured. He's flying under a different name, but neither the one he's using, nor his real name has shown up. There's some concern that he may be being held secretly, or that the Germans have killed him. I believe he may have been aware of classified information, which would make him of considerable interest to the Germans, if they're aware of who he really is. Joe is quite a prize because of his own history, he's a real plum for them, because he's a national hero.” She was staring at her father dumbly, trying to absorb what he had told her, and for a moment, there was no reaction whatsoever from her. “Kate… Allied Intelligence doesn't think he made it,” he summed up for her. “And even if he did, the Germans won't let him live long. He's probably dead by now, or either the Americans or the British would have heard something about him.” She stared at her father with wide eyes, and was too stunned to speak for a minute, as her mother moved closer to her and put an arm around her shoulders.

“Mom… is he dead?” she asked in the voice of a lost child, trying to understand what someone speaking a foreign language had just told her. She couldn't absorb it. Her heart refused to know. It was like a terrifying echo of the day her mother had told her that her father died. And in some ways, this was worse. She had loved Joe too much.

“They think so, dear,” her mother said softly, aching for her only daughter. Kate was sheet white and looked shell-shocked. She started to get up, and then sat down, as her father looked at her with eyes filled with sympathy and regret.

“I'm sorry, Kate,” he said sadly. She could see that there were tears in his eyes, not only for Joe, but for her.

“Don't be,” Kate said sharply as she stood up. She wasn't going to let this happen to her. She couldn't. Or to him. She didn't believe it, and never would, until they were sure. “He's not dead yet. If he were, someone would know it,” she insisted as her parents exchanged an unhappy glance. It was not the reaction they had expected, or one she had planned. She refused to accept it. “We just have to know that Joe is going to be okay, Mom … Dad… that's what he'd expect of us.”

“Kate, the man landed in Germany, surrounded by Germans who were out looking for him. He's a famous flying ace. They're not going to let him out alive, even if he was alive when he landed. You have to face that.” Her father's voice was firm. He didn't want her deluding herself.

“I don't have to face anything,” she shouted at him, as she ran out of the living room, up the stairs, and slammed her bedroom door.

Her parents looked stunned as they watched her go, and had no idea what to say to her. They had expected her to be devastated, and instead she was enraged at them and the rest of the world. But once in her room, with the door firmly closed, Kate threw herself on her bed and began to sob. She lay there and cried for hours, thinking of him and how wonderful he was. She couldn't bear the thought of what had happened to him, it wasn't possible, it wasn't fair, all she could think of now were her terrible dreams for the past week, and how he must have felt when he was shot down. And he had promised her he had a hundred lives.

It was late that night when her mother finally dared to slip into the room, and when Kate turned to look at her, her mother saw that she had red, swollen eyes. She went to sit next to her on the bed, and Kate sobbed in her arms.

“I don't want him to be dead, Mommy…,” she said, crying like a child, as tears of pain for her only child slid down her mother's cheeks.

“Neither do I,” Elizabeth said. For all her qualms about him, he was a decent man, and didn't deserve to die at thirty-three. And Kate didn't deserve a broken heart. None of it was fair. Nothing had been fair in the past two years. “We just have to pray that he'll be all right.” She didn't want to continue to reason with Kate that he was probably already dead. That would come in time. It was hard enough to accept that he'd been shot down. And if they didn't find him eventually, even Kate would have to accept that he was gone. She didn't have to face it now, it was obviously far too painful for her. Her mother stayed with her until late into the night, and stroked her hair lovingly until she fell asleep, making the little snuffling sobs that come after a child has cried for too long. It nearly broke her mother's heart.

“I wish she didn't love that man so,” Elizabeth said to Clarke when she finally came to bed. He was so worried about Kate that he had waited up for his wife. “There's something between those two that frightens me.” She had seen it the year before in Joe's eyes, and she could see it now in Kate's. It defied reason and time and words, it was like a tie between their souls that even they did not understand. And what frightened Kate's mother now was if the tie proved to be unseverable by death as well. It would be a terrible fate for Kate.

Kate was silent and grim at the breakfast table the next day, and any attempt to speak to her went ignored. She said nothing to either of them, drank only a cup of tea, and then drifted back upstairs like a ghost. She stayed home from school, and for the rest of the weekend, never left her room. Fortunately, she only had one more week of school, before the Christmas break.

But on Sunday night, she dressed and went back to Radcliffe, and never even said goodbye to them. She was like a disembodied soul. She spoke to no one in the house, and when Beverly came to say hello to her and ask if she'd been sick over the weekend, Kate never told her that Joe's plane had been shot down. She couldn't bring herself to say the words, and she cried herself to sleep every night.

Everyone in the house at Radcliffe knew something had happened to her, and it was several days later that someone saw a small article in the newspaper that he had been shot down. Military Intelligence had decided to keep it as low key as they could, so as not to demoralize people at home. They said he was missing in action, and the newspaper was noticeably vague. But it told them all they needed to know. All the girls in her house knew that Joe Allbright had visited Kate.

“I'm sorry…,” some of them whispered as they passed her in the hall. And all she could do was nod and look away. She looked terrible, lost weight, and she looked tired and ill when she went home for the Christmas break. And all her mother's efforts to comfort her were in vain. All Kate wanted was to be left alone, as she waited for news of Joe.

She asked her father to call his contact in Washington again before the holidays, but there was no further news. There had been no sign of Joe, and no word through underground sources. The Germans had not reported capturing him, and in fact had denied it when they were asked. No one identified by the name on his papers had surfaced anywhere. And if they knew they had captured Joe Allbright, they would have said so and counted it as a real victory against the Allies. And no one had seen him escape, or alive since he'd gone down. There was no sign of him anywhere.

There was no Christmas for any of them that year. Kate hardly did any Christmas shopping, didn't want any gifts from them, took forever to open the ones she got, and spent most of her time in her room. All she could do was think of him, where he was, what had happened to him, if he was still alive, if she would ever see him again. She thought constantly of the times they had, and she regretted even more bitterly now having lost the baby they had conceived the year before. She was inconsolable and unreachable, she hardly ever slept anymore, and she was rail thin.

She scoured the newspapers for some word of him, but her father had already assured her that they would be called before anything more appeared in the press. And he suspected that there would never be. He had probably been dead for weeks by then, and was lying somewhere in Germany in a shallow grave. To Kate, the thought of it nearly drove her insane. It was as though part of her very being had been cut away, or some deep internal piece of her that she didn't even know was there had been gouged out. She either lay on her bed, staring at the wall, or paced her room at night, feeling like she was about to explode out of her own skin, and nothing helped. She even got drunk one night, and her parents said nothing to her about it the next day. They were desperate, and had never seen anyone as grief-stricken. She was keening for him, and nothing was going to help her now except time.

When she went back to school, she failed an exam for the first time. Her advisor called her in, and asked if something had happened over the holidays. Kate looked terrible, and in a strangled voice she explained that a close friend of hers had been shot down on a mission over Germany. At least it explained her grades. The woman expressed her sympathy, and hoped that Kate would feel better soon. She was very kind and very sweet, she had lost her own son in Salerno the previous year. But nothing anyone said to her offered any solace to Kate. And when she wasn't feeling devastated, she was consumed with rage, at the Germans, at the fates, at the man who had shot him down, at him for letting it happen to him, at herself for loving him so much. She wanted to be free of it, but she knew nothing would ever free her of him. It was too late.

And when Andy saw her after she got back from Christmas break, at first he felt sorry for her, and then he scolded her. He told her she was feeling sorry for herself, that she always knew it could happen to him. And in Joe's case it could have happened anytime, anywhere, while he did death-defying stunts in planes, aerobatics, or raced. Thousands of other women were in the same boat she was in. She and Joe weren't married, they didn't have kids, she wasn't even engaged. But what Andy said to her only made her furious with him.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? You sound like my mother. Do you think a ring on my finger would make any difference to me? It wouldn't mean a goddamn thing to me, Andy Scott, and it wouldn't change what happened to him. Why is everyone so obsessed with social rituals? Who gives a damn? He's probably in some goddamn awful prison camp being tortured for what he knows. Do you think a ring on my finger would make a difference to them? Of course not. And it wouldn't to Joe. It wouldn't have made him love me more, or me love him more. I don't care about the ring,” she started to sob, “I just want him to come home.” She folded into Andy's arms like a broken doll.

“He's not going to, Kate,” Andy said as he held her, while she sobbed. “You know that. The chances that he'll come home are a million to one.” If that.

“It could happen. Maybe he'll escape.” She refused to let hope die.

“Maybe he's dead,” Andy said, trying to force her to face the truth. More likely than not, he was. Kate knew it too, but she didn't want to hear it from anyone. She couldn't face it yet. “Kate, I can only imagine how hard it is, but you have to get over this. You can't let it tear you apart.” The worst thing was she had no choice. She was doing the best she could, but she was drowning in her fears for him, her own sense of panic and loss. She had no idea how she was going to exist if he was gone. And yet, even at her worst, she had an inexplicable sense that he was still alive. It was as though there were a part of her that hadn't let go of him yet, and she wondered if she ever would. She felt bound to him for life.

She and Andy went to dinner at the cafeteria, and he forced her to eat. And that weekend he insisted that she come to watch him at a swimming meet against MIT. She actually had a good time, in spite of herself, and forgot her miseries for a short while. And everyone was excited when Harvard won.

She waited for him afterward, and they went out to eat, and then he took her back to the house. She looked better than she had a few days before, and he felt sorry for her when she told him that she'd had a dream about Joe. She was convinced he was still alive, and Andy was sure her mind was playing tricks on her. She wasn't willing to accept the possibility that he had died when he was shot down.

Eventually, it became a sore subject with her, whenever the topic came up with family or friends. People would tell her how sorry they were to have heard about Joe, and then she would insist that he was probably in a German prisoner of war camp somewhere. In time, people stopped mentioning it to her at all.

By the time summer rolled around, Joe had been gone for seven months. His last letters to her had come a month after he had been shot down, and she still read them at night, and lay in bed for hours, thinking of him. Everyone said she had to let go of him, that he was gone, but her heart refused to open and release him like a bird from a cage. She kept him deep within her, in a secret place in her heart. She knew it was a place where no one would ever go again, and she knew they were right when people said she had to get over the tragedy, but she had no idea how. He was like a color she had become, a vision she had seen, a dream she had had, and there was no way to separate herself from him now.

Her parents urged her to go on a trip that summer, and after much arguing, Kate finally agreed to go. She went to visit her godmother in Chicago, and from there on to California to see a girl she knew who was going to Stanford. It was an interesting trip, and she had a good time, but she always felt now as though she were only making the motions, and not living her life anymore. It was a relief finally when she came home on the train. She had three days to herself to stare out the window and think about him, all that he had been, and hopefully still was. But even she was beginning to think now that he was no longer alive. By the time she returned to Boston at the end of August, he'd been gone for nine months. And no one had heard anything about him, or seen him in any of the prisoner of war camps. Both Washington and the RAF had finally agreed that he was dead.

Kate didn't go to Cape Cod that summer. It had too many memories for her, even though she had only seen him there twice. She came home from California just in time to start her senior year at Radcliffe. She was majoring in history and art, and had no idea what she was going to do with it. Teaching didn't appeal to her, and there was no other career path that held any particular lure for her, nor did anything else.

She saw Andy a few weeks after they got back, he was starting his third year of law school, and had almost no time to see her anymore. He loved it, and was working too hard. Several of her friends hadn't come back to school that fall, two of them had gotten married over the summer, and another girl had moved to the West Coast. Another had gone to work to support her mother, her father and both her brothers had been killed in the Pacific the previous year. It seemed to be a world supported and staffed by women, bus drivers, mailmen, all the jobs that had previously been done by men were being performed by women. Everyone had gotten used to it, and Kate teased her parents and told them she was going to be a bus driver when she grew up. Unfortunately, there was nothing else she wanted to do more.

She was twenty-one years old, and soon to become a graduate of Radcliffe. She was intelligent, beautiful, interesting, fun to be with, and well-informed. By all rights, her mother insisted, if there hadn't been a war on, she would have been married and had kids by then, if not with Joe, then with someone else. But she hadn't even been on a date since he died. Several of the boys from Harvard had asked her out, a couple of the excessively brainy ones from MIT, and even a nice boy from Boston College, but she turned all of them down. She had no interest in anyone, and she still expected to get a call from Washington, telling her that Joe was still alive, or even from the visiting room downstairs that there was someone waiting for her. She expected to see him as she got on buses, walked around corners and crossed streets. It was impossible to adjust to the idea that he had vanished into thin air, that he no longer existed anywhere on the planet, and no matter how much she loved him, would never come back to her. The whole concept of death was incomprehensible to her.

The holidays meant very little to her that year, although they were less painful than they had been the year before. She had calmed down a lot, and was warm and kind to her parents, but when her mother urged her to go out, Kate would either change the subject or leave the room. Her parents were beginning to give up hope, and her mother had confided to Kate's father that she was afraid Kate would be an old maid.

“I hardly think so,” he laughed at Elizabeth. “She's twenty-one years old and there's a war on, for God's sake. Wait till the boys come home.”

“And when will that be?” Elizabeth asked with a mournful look.

“Soon, I hope.” But there was no sign of it yet.

Paris had been liberated finally in August. Russia had prevailed against the Germans, and Russian troops had moved into Poland. But the Germans had increased their bombing raids over England since September. And their offensive in the Ardennes Forest was going badly for the Allies. And the Battle of the Bulge over Christmas had cost a vast number of lives and disheartened everyone on the home front.

It was the last day of the Christmas vacation when Andy Scott dropped by the house with a group of friends, and convinced Kate to go skating with them. They were driving to a nearby lake, and her mother was relieved when she saw her leave with them. She was still hoping that Kate would pay more attention to Andy one day, but Kate always insisted that she had no romantic interest in him, he was just a friend. But they had gotten noticeably closer year by year, and Elizabeth hadn't entirely given up hope. She thought he would have been the perfect husband for Kate, and Kate's father didn't disagree, but he thought that was best left up to Kate.

They spent a wonderful afternoon skating on the lake, falling down, skating backward, pushing each other over. The boys organized a mock hockey game, and Kate skated in graceful circles in the middle of the lake. She had loved figure skating as a child, and was fairly good. And afterward, they all went out for hot toddies, and then went for a long walk in the crisp night air. Kate fell back from the group after a while, and Andy joined her. He was happy to see her looking better and finally having some fun. She said Christmas vacation had been okay, although she admitted that she hadn't done much, and he noticed that for once, she hadn't mentioned Joe. He hoped it was a turning point for her.

“What are you doing next summer?” he asked her calmly, as he tucked her mittened hand into the crook of his arm. He had shining dark hair, and deep brown eyes, and he was wearing earmuffs and a warm scarf from their outing to the lake.

“I don't know, I haven't thought about it,” she said vaguely, as the vapor from their breath swirled ahead of them in the cold night air. “What about you?”

“I had kind of a fun idea,” he said as they followed the others, “we're both going to graduate in June,” she from Radcliffe and he from law school. “My father says I don't have to start work till September at the law firm. I was thinking it might be fun to go on a honeymoon.” She was nodding as she listened, and then frowned as she looked at him.

“With who?” Her breath caught for a minute. There was a funny look in his eyes as they stopped walking, and he looked down at her.

“I was thinking maybe you,” he said softly, as Kate let out a long sigh. She had thought they had put all that behind them. She had treated him like a brother for years. But Andy had always had a crush on her. And like her parents, and his own, he thought it would be a good match for both of them.

“Are you kidding?” she asked hopefully, but he shook his head, and she leaned her own against him.

“I can't do that, Andy, you know that. I love you like a brother.” And then she smiled up at him sadly. “It would be incest to marry you.”

“I know you've been in love with Joe,” he said honestly, “but he's gone now. And I've always loved you. I think I could make you happy, Kate.” But not the way Joe had. Joe had been passion and excitement and danger. Andy was hot chocolate and ice skates. They were both important to her, but in different ways, and she felt certain that she would never feel for him what she had for Joe. They had stopped walking by then, and the others were far ahead, with no idea of what was happening behind them.

“I don't think it would be fair to you,” she said honestly, snuggling close to him as they started to walk again. He had been wanting to ask her all day, and hadn't had the opportunity he wanted at the lake. He'd gotten too busy playing hockey with their friends. And she had gone off to skate by herself. She was very solitary these days. “I still can't believe that he's gone and never coming back,” although she had begun to try the idea on for size recently, and it didn't feel good, and probably never would.

“You weren't even engaged to him, Kate. Lots of people have romances with other people before they get married. Some people even break engagements when they meet someone else,” he grew more serious then, as he looked at her. “There are going to be a lot of women in your position after the war. There are widows even younger than you, and some of them have kids. They can't just lock themselves away for the rest of their lives. They're going to have to live again, and so are you. You can't hide forever, Kate.”

“Yes, I can.” She was beginning to think that what she'd had with Joe had been so unusual and so special that it would sustain her for the rest of her life, and there would be no one else.

“It's not good for you. You need a husband and kids and a good life, and someone who loves you to take care of you.” What he was saying would have been music to her mother's ears, but not to Kate's. She wasn't ready to think about anyone else. She was still in love with Joe.

“You deserve better than someone who's in love with a ghost.” It was the first time she had admitted to anyone that Joe might be dead, and Andy thought it was a first step.

“Maybe there's room in our life for a ghost.” Andy felt certain that Kate would eventually let go of Joe one day.

“I don't know,” she answered, sounding vague. But so far, she hadn't actually said no.

“We don't have to get married next summer, Kate. I just said that to see what you'd say. We can take as long as you want. Maybe we could just date for a while.”

“Like real people?” she asked, as she looked at him, but she couldn't imagine being in love with him. To her, even at twenty-three, he still seemed like a kid. Joe was exactly ten years older than he. And they were very different men. Kate had been drawn to Joe from the moment she met him, he was like an explosion of light in her heart. Andy had always seemed like a cuddly person and a good friend. It was what her mother said husbands were supposed to be.

“So what do you think?” he asked hopefully, and she laughed. It was like having a boy ask you if you wanted to see his tree house, or go on a first date. She couldn't take him seriously.

“I think you're crazy to even want me,” she said honestly.

“And?” he asked expectantly, “what about you?”

“I don't know. I can't imagine what it would be like going out with you. Let me think about it.” She had been trying to fix him up with her housemates for the past three and a half years, but Andy had always been more interested in her. “It sounds like a crazy idea to me,” she said most unromantically, but he wasn't discouraged. Things had gone better than he expected, and he looked pleased. He had been trying to get up the courage to ask her for months, but he'd been afraid it was too soon. But now it had been over a year since Joe had disappeared.

“Maybe not as crazy as you think,” Andy said softly. “Why don't we just see how things go for the next few months?” he suggested, and she nodded. She had always liked him, and maybe her mother was right.

But that night, after he took her back to her parents' house, it depressed her thinking about it. Even letting Andy talk to her about it seemed like a betrayal of Joe, and thinking of Andy only made her miss Joe more. They were not only different, they existed in different worlds. Everything about Joe was exciting, fascinating, mesmerizing. She had always been enthralled by his flying tales, and flying with Joe had been one of the high points of her life. But beyond what Joe said to her, and what they did together, there had always been a powerful, almost irresistible unspoken attraction between them. It was a kind of chemistry that neither of them could have explained. And she had none of that with Andy Scott. Instead of a bright light burning somewhere deep within her, all Andy represented in her mind was a comfortable warm place. It would have been a huge adjustment to make. And when she saw him at school again a few days later, she started to say as much to him.

“Sshhhh!” he said firmly, putting a finger to her lips. “I know what you're going to say. Forget it. I don't want to hear it. You're just scared.” But the trouble was she wasn't in love with him. She had said nothing to her parents about what Andy had said to her. She didn't want to raise her mother's hopes, or have her go crazy about it. Kate wasn't sold on the idea yet herself. Far from it, she was having cold feet about even dating him. She felt silly going out with him. “Just give it a chance,” he continued. “How about dinner on Friday night? And we could go to a movie on Saturday.” Suddenly, she felt as though she were being asked to go steady by a high school kid. He was bright and kind, and friendly and solid, but having stayed home while everyone else went to war, he also seemed less mature in Kate's opinion, certainly than Joe.

In spite of herself, she got dressed for dinner on Friday evening. She wore a black dress her mother had given her for Christmas, high heels, a little fur jacket, and a string of pearls. And she looked very pretty with her shining auburn hair when he came to pick her up, wearing a dark suit. He looked like every senior's dream. But not Kate's.

They had a lovely time at an Italian restaurant in the North End, and he took her dancing afterward, but somehow, no matter how hard she tried, she just felt like it was a joke. She would much rather have been eating at the cafeteria with him, as they always did. But she didn't say it to him.

Andy was very circumspect when he took her home at the end of the evening, and he didn't kiss her. He didn't want to scare her off, and he was very sensible about the fact that it was too soon. And the following night, he took her to see Casablanca again, which was more relaxed, and they went out for hamburgers afterward. Kate was surprised at how much fun she had. It was actually enjoyable going out on a date, and it was easy being with him. But for her at least, it wasn't exciting or romantic being with him. He was just a friend, and she couldn't imagine, or not yet at least, feeling more than that for him. But at least she was making the effort to give it a chance.

It was Valentine's Day before he finally tried to kiss her. Joe had been gone for fifteen months, but Joe was all she could think of when she felt Andy's lips on hers. He was handsome and sexy and young, and he was an attractive young man in many ways. But she felt as though there were something terribly wrong with her. It was as if everything inside her, in her heart, in her head, in her soul, were numb. When Joe's light went out in her, everything in her had gone dark. Her heart had left with him.

Andy appeared not to notice, and for the next few months, they went on a date once a week, and he kissed her when he brought her home. He never tried to go further than that, which was a relief to her. She knew that Andy would never expect her to risk her reputation, and she suspected that he had no idea that she had ever made love to Joe. He told her he loved her constantly, and she loved him too, in her own way. Her parents were ecstatic that she was going out with him, but she kept insisting that it wasn't serious yet. And when her father looked into her eyes, it almost broke his heart. He could read all too easily what was and wasn't there. All he saw was immeasurable pain. It was like looking into a bottomless pool of grief. The fact that she chatted and smiled and had begun to laugh again didn't fool him.

And when her mother was rhapsodizing about Andy one day, when she and Clarke were alone having dinner at the house, he tried to discourage her. He thought that what she was doing was dangerous for Kate.

“Don't push them, Liz. Let them find their own way.”

“They seem to be doing fine. I'm sure they're going to get engaged.” But what did that mean? he wondered to himself. That she had been profoundly in love with one man, and had to be married to someone, anyone, to replace him, whether she loved him or not? To him, it seemed an abysmal fate. He and Liz had been married for thirteen years, and he was still in love with her every day. He didn't want anything less for Kate.

“I don't think she should marry him,” Clarke said sensibly.

“Why not?” Elizabeth looked incensed. She didn't want him to spoil anything.

“She's not in love with him, Liz,” he said quietly. “Look at her. She's still in love with Joe.”

“He was never right for her, and he's gone, for Heaven's sake.”

“That doesn't change how she felt about him. She may not get over it for years.” What he was beginning to fear most was that she never would. And marrying Andy might only make things worse, particularly if she did it to please them. It might break her spirit entirely, or fill her with despair. In that case, she was better off alone, no matter how nice a boy Andy was. “Just leave them alone, and let them figure it out,” he urged, and Liz shook her head as she looked at him.

“She needs to get married and have kids, Clarke. What do you expect her to do when she graduates in June?” She made marriage and children sound like occupational therapy, which was upsetting to him.

“I'd rather she get a job than marry the wrong man.” He was very firm.

“There is nothing ‘wrong’ with Andy Scott.” She was beginning to wonder where her husband got his crazy ideas. Maybe he had been a little dazzled by Joe Allbright too. But however dazzling he had been, Joe Allbright was gone. And Kate had to go on with her life.

In spite of her parents' arguments and concern over her, Kate continued to go out with Andy every weekend, and do her best to feel more than just friendship for him, but it was an uphill fight. And by spring, everyone's attention was riveted on England and France and Germany. The tides were beginning to turn.

U.S. troops were winning the Battle of the Ruhr in March, and had taken Iwo Jima in the Pacific. Nuremberg had fallen to the Allies in April, just as the Russians reached the suburbs of Berlin. Mussolini and his cabinet members were executed at the end of April, and the German armies in Italy surrendered the following day, just two weeks after President Roosevelt's death. Harry Truman had been made President by then. Germany surrendered on May 7, and President Truman declared May 8 V-E Day.

Kate and Andy followed the news avidly, and argued about what they read. The war meant more to her than it did to a lot of girls her age, because it had cost her so much. And others were constantly holding their breath, praying that their men would come home. By then, nearly two years after he'd been shot down, even Kate had lost hope that Joe would turn up at the end of the war. He had been gone for seventeen months, and everyone had come to assume he was dead, even Kate. His files were closed, although his flying records still stood, and would for a long time.

Kate was in class on V-E Day when she heard the news. The door was open, and a teacher came in with tears streaming down her face. She had lost her husband in France three years before. All the girls stood up and cheered and embraced each other. It was over… finished … done… the boys could come home at last. All they needed now was victory in Japan, but everyone was sure it would come soon.

Kate went to see her parents that afternoon, and her father was jubilant. She and her father talked about it for a while, and then he noticed the profoundly sad look in her eyes. It was easy to see what had crossed her mind, and there were tears in her eyes when she looked up at him. He instantly understood, and touched her hand.

“I'm sorry he didn't make it, Kate.”

She nodded at him. “So am I,” she said, with tears rolling down her cheeks as she wiped them away. She went back to the house where she lived a little while after that, and lay on her bed, thinking about Joe again. He was always there, somewhere, close to her. He was never far. And when one of the girls came to tell her Andy was on the phone, she told her to tell him she was out. She just couldn't talk to him. Her mind and heart were too full of Joe.

9

GRADUATION WAS ANTICLIMACTIC after the victory in Europe, and Kate looked wonderful in her cap and gown. Her parents were proud of her, and Andy was there. He had talked to her about getting engaged that week, and she had asked him to wait awhile. He was going to travel around the Northwest that summer, and go to work for his father in New York in the fall.

She went to his law school graduation after hers, which was understandably quite small. But it was very dignified, and she was happy for him. She had gotten him to agree to wait until the summer to discuss marriage with her again. And to Kate, it felt like a reprieve.

But once he left on his trip in June, she found that she missed him more than she would have thought, and she was relieved to find that she actually had feelings for him. She was never sure exactly what she felt for him, and she knew that it was because of Joe. The power of her emotions still felt dim, as though all the power had been turned off in her. But it was slowly coming back. And she was grateful for Andy's kindness to her, and his patience. She knew she had given him a hard time, and by the end of June, she was actually anxious for him to come back. He called her as often as he could, and sent her postcards from everywhere. He was heading for the Grand Tetons and eventually Lake Louise. He had friends in Washington State, then he was going to San Francisco on the way back. And from what he was telling her, he was having a great time, but he missed her a lot. And she was surprised to see how much she missed him. Kate found herself actually thinking about getting engaged to him in the fall, and maybe getting married the following June. But she knew that, if nothing else, she needed another year. And she was working full time for the Red Cross again.

There were hordes of young men coming in from Europe every day, and hospital ships bringing the wounded in. She had just been assigned to working on the docks, helping the medical personnel wade through the men who came off the ship, and sending them off to hospitals where they would spend the next several months, or even years. Kate had never seen people so happy to be home, no matter how damaged they were. They knelt down and kissed the ground, they kissed her, and anyone near at hand if their mothers and sweethearts were not there. But although it was exhausting work, in a way it was a happy job. Many had injuries that were horrifying, yet all of them still looked so young, until you saw their eyes. They had all seen too much. But they were thrilled to be home. Just watching them limp off the ship or embrace their loved ones constantly brought Kate to tears.

Kate spent hours with them, holding hands, smoothing brows, taking notes for men who had lost their sight. She got them into ambulances and on military trucks. She came home filthy and tired every day, but at least she felt she was doing something useful with her time.

She came home very late one night, after a long day working in a packed hospital ward. Because she was so late, she knew her parents would be concerned. But the moment she walked in and saw her father's face, she knew something was terribly wrong. Her mother was sitting on the couch next to him, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. Kate didn't know who, but she suspected instantly that someone had died. She felt a chill run down her spine.

“What's wrong, Dad?” she asked quietly as she walked further into the room.

“Nothing, Kate. Come and sit down.” She did as she was told, and smoothed her uniform. There were stains all over it, and her cap was askew. It had been an incredibly long day, and she was hot and tired.

“Are you okay, Mom?” she asked gently, and her mother nodded, but didn't say a word. “What happened?” She looked from one to the other, and there was an interminable pause. She had no living grandparents, no uncles or aunts, so she knew it had to be one of their friends, or maybe one of their friends' sons. Some of the wounded hadn't survived the trip home.

“I got a call from Washington today,” her father said, and it meant nothing to Kate now. All her bad news had come and gone. It gave her great compassion in the work she did. She knew what it was like to lose the person you loved most. She was watching her father's eyes for a clue to what had upset them so much, as her father hesitated and went on. “They found Joe, Kate. He's alive.” She was so stunned that his words hit her like a rock, and she couldn't make a sound.

“What?” It was all she could say. Her face had gone dead white. “I don't understand.” She felt as though she were going into shock. It reminded her of the night she had lost their child. “What do you mean, Dad?” Even after hoping for so long, it no longer seemed possible to her. Kate had finally come to believe Joe was dead. And now, hearing the words she had given up hope of ever hearing, her mind reeled, and she was completely confused.

“He was shot down just west of Berlin,” her father said, as tears rolled down his cheeks. “He had a problem with his parachute and badly damaged both his legs. He was hidden by a farmer, and then eventually tried to make his way to the border, but he was caught and taken to Colditz Castle Prison near Leipzig. He had no way of contacting anyone before that, and from what the War Office told us before, we know he was carrying identification with a false name. They were afraid to let him fly over Germany with papers showing his correct name, because it would have been even more dangerous for him,” her father said, wiping away his tears, as Kate stared at him. It was almost beyond her comprehension, as she tried to concentrate on what was being said. She felt as though she herself were being brought back from the dead, not just Joe. “He was kept in solitary confinement, and for some reason the Germans did not report him on their list of prisoners, even under the alias he had used. No one knows why, they may have suspected the name he was using was in fact not correct, and they tried to torture any information he had out of him. He was in Colditz for seven months, and then finally escaped. He had been in Germany for nearly a year by then. And this time, he made it all the way into Sweden and was trying to board a freighter when he was caught again. He was shot that time, and very badly injured. They think he was either delirious or unconscious for several months, and then put in Colditz again. He had been using false Swedish papers, which is why he didn't turn up on the list of American prisoners again. I'm not sure they even knew who he was. They found him in solitary confinement in Colditz weeks ago, but he wasn't able to tell them who he was until yesterday. He's in a military hospital in Berlin now. And Kate…,” her father's voice drifted off for a minute as he tried to control his voice, “he seems to be in pretty bad shape. They said he was barely alive when they took him out. But somehow, God bless him, he's managed to hold on till now. They think he'll make it, barring any complications. He has managed to stay alive and unidentified for all this time. His legs are still badly damaged, and had been broken again. He still had bullet wounds in his legs and arms. He's been in hell for all this time. And if they can get him well enough to travel, they're going to put him on a hospital ship in two weeks and bring him home. He should be here sometime in July.”

Kate still hadn't said a word and, like her father, all she could do was cry. Her mother was looking at her in despair. She knew, without being told, that Kate's life was about to alter radically. Andy Scott and everything he had to offer her had just vanished in a puff of smoke. And no matter how much Kate loved Joe, her mother was sure that because of it, he would destroy her life. But it was obvious to both of them how much he meant to her, it had been impossible to overlook for the past two years. All her father wanted for her was her happiness, whatever it took, and whatever that meant to her. He had always had a deep respect for Joe.

“Can I talk to him?” she asked finally, her voice barely more than a croak, but her father doubted that she could call. He had written down the name of the hospital for her, but communications with Germany were worse than sketchy these days.

She tried calling late that night, but the operator said it was impossible to get through. She sat in her room instead, looking out at the moonlit night and thinking of him. All she could remember now was how sure she had been for so long that he was still alive. It was only in the past few months that she had actually begun to believe he was dead.

She felt as though she were moving underwater for the next few weeks. She went to work on the docks every day, and in the Red Cross facility between ships. She went to visit men in hospitals, wrote letters for them, helped them eat and sit up and drink. She listened to a thousand painful tales. And when Andy called, she sounded vague when she talked to him. She didn't want to tell him on the phone that Joe was alive, and she didn't know what to say. She had tried so hard to talk herself into loving him, and she might have one day, but in the face of Joe coming home, she could barely talk to Andy anymore. But it didn't seem fair to ruin his trip by telling him while he was away.

She went to work at five in the morning the day Joe's ship was due in. She knew they were expected at six o'clock when they came in with the high tide. They had been just offshore the night before, and had radioed in. She wore a clean uniform and her cap, and her hands were shaking when she pinned it on. She couldn't even imagine seeing him. It was all beginning to seem like a very strange dream.

She took the streetcar to the docks, reported in to her supervisor, and checked their supplies. There were seven hundred wounded men on the ship, and it was one of the first from Germany. The others had been coming in from England and France. There were ambulances and military transport vehicles lined up all along the docks, and they would be sending the men to military hospitals over a range of several hundred miles. She had no idea where they were going to be sending Joe. But wherever it was, she was going to be there with him as much as she could. She had never been able to get to him by phone in Germany in the past few weeks, and she'd been told that even a letter wouldn't make it in time. They had had no contact at all since October, nearly two years before.

The ship steamed slowly in, and the decks were lined with men, on crutches, wearing bandages, and you could hear them shouting and screaming and whistling and see them wave long before the ship reached the dock. It was a scene she had seen often by then, and it always brought tears to her eyes. But this time, she stood watching them, straining her eyes, scouring the decks for him, but she doubted if he was in any condition to be standing up. From the sound of it he would be one of the men on stretchers lying flat on the deck. And she had already spoken to her supervisor about going on board.

“Anyone you know?” Usually, the volunteers waited for the men to be unloaded on the dock, but now and then they went on board to lend a hand. But the retired nurse in charge of the volunteers could see how anxious Kate was. With her dark red hair framing her face, she had never seen anyone as pale and still standing up.

“I… my… my fiancé is on board,” she said finally. It was too complicated to explain what he meant to her and where he had been for two years. It was easier to just tell her a diplomatic lie.

“How long has it been since you've seen him?” she asked Kate, as they watched the ship come in. She had already given Kate permission to go aboard.

“Twenty-one months.” And then she looked at the young woman with her enormous dark blue eyes. “We thought he was dead until three weeks ago.” The woman could only imagine what that must have been like for her. She had lived through her own private hell, she was a widow and had lost three sons.

“Where did they find him?” she asked, more to distract Kate. The poor girl looked like she was about to break in half.

“In Germany. In prison,” she said simply. The nurse could only guess at the kind of damage that had been done. “He was shot down on a bombing raid,” Kate still had no idea what kind of injuries he'd had. She was just grateful he was alive.

It took them over an hour to berth the ship, and then one by one the men came down the gangways to land. People were cheering and crying and there were countless tearful scenes being played out on the dock. But this time, Kate wasn't crying for them, she was crying for Joe, as tears streamed down her cheeks as she watched. It was another two hours before she could get on the ship. They were ready to unload the stretcher cases by then, and she went up with a group of orderlies who were going up to take them off. She had to fight to control herself, and not shove her way past them, and she had no idea where to find him on the huge ship. She saw quickly that the orderlies on the ship and the crew were bringing out men on litters and laying them on the upper deck. And she carefully threaded her way amongst wounded and dying men. There was the stench of sick and sweating bodies heavy in the air, and she had to struggle not to gag.

Some of them reached out to her, tried to grab her hands, and touch her legs. And she had to stop every few feet to talk to them. No matter what she felt, she couldn't just walk by. She had been walking a cautious path among them, careful not to step on anyone, and she stopped for what must have been the hundredth time when a man with no legs reached up and took her hand. He had lost half his face, and she could see from the way he turned his head, that his remaining eye was blind. He just wanted to talk to her and tell her how glad he was to be home, and she could tell from his accent that he was from the Deep South. She was still bending down talking to him, when a hand behind her gently touched her arm. She finished talking to the southern man, and then turned to see what she could do for the man who had touched her arm, and he was lying there, looking up at her with a broad smile. His face was thin and pale, and there were small scars from beatings he had sustained from the Germans, but in spite of that she knew who he was. She fell to her knees next to him, and he sat up and took her in his arms. There were tears rolling down his cheeks, as they mingled with hers. It was Joe.

“Oh my God…” It was all she could say.

“Hello, Kate,” he said quietly in a shaking but nonetheless familiar voice. “I told you I had a hundred lives.” She was crying so hard she couldn't talk to him, and he gently wiped the tears from her face with a roughened hand. He had lost an incredible amount of weight, and she could see as she sat back and looked at him that both his legs were in casts, they had reset them in Germany, but the doctors weren't sure yet if he would walk again. His captors had broken them during interrogations and shot him in both legs when he tried to escape. He had hung on to the merest thread of life, and he had come back to her. Kate couldn't even imagine the condition he'd been in, it was hard to believe that it could have been worse than what she saw now, but she knew that it had.

“I never thought I'd see you again,” he said softly, as the orderlies carried his stretcher off the ship, and Kate walked beside him, holding his hand, as he used the other one to wipe his eyes.

“Neither did I,” she said, as her supervisor spotted them, she had been crying silently as she watched them reach the dock. It was a scene they had all seen now a thousand times, but this one touched her particularly because she liked Kate so much. Someone deserved to win in all this, she told herself. There had been enough tragedy in the past four years.

“I see you got your guy. Welcome home, son,” the woman said, and patted his arm. He had a death grip on Kate's hand. “Do you want to ride in the ambulance with him, Kate?” They were sending him to a VA hospital just outside of Boston, and it would be an easy commute for her to visit him. The tides of fortune had finally turned. And Kate knew that, whatever else happened to them, she would be grateful forever for the gift of Joe's life.

She got in the ambulance, and sat on the floor next to him. She had brought a bar of chocolate for him in her purse and she handed it to him as the ambulance pulled out. There were three other men riding with them, and she divided up another bar of chocolate among the three of them, and one of them started to cry.

They had all been in Germany, two of them had been in prisoner of war camps, and the fourth man had been caught trying to escape into Switzerland. He had been tortured for four months and then left to die. They had all gotten nightmarish treatment while in German hands, but in each case, civilians had saved their lives, except for Joe, who had been hidden by a farmer at first, but then had simply hung on to life while in prison, until he was found.

“Are you okay?” Joe was looking her over like a mother hen. He had never seen a sight as beautiful as her hair and her skin and her eyes, and the other three men riding with them couldn't take their eyes off her. They just lay on their litters and stared at her, while Joe held her hand.

“I'm fine. I always thought you were alive,” she said in a whisper as she sat close to him. “I just knew you weren't dead, in spite of what everyone said.”

“You're not married or anything, I hope,” he laughed and she shook her head. But if he had taken much longer, it might have been a close call. “Did you finish school?” He wanted to know everything. He had thought of her a million times, and fell asleep thinking of her at night, and wondering if he'd ever see her again. For her sake, and his own, he had refused to die.

“I graduated in June,” she filled him in, but after all this time, there was too much to say. There were eighteen months to fill in, and it would take time. “I'm working for the Red Cross as a volunteer.”

“No kidding,” he laughed through painfully cracked lips that she had already kissed several times, and he knew with utter certainty that there was nothing in life as sweet. “I thought you were just a friendly nurse.” He couldn't believe it when he saw her standing next to him on the ship. He hadn't even been able to contact her before they sailed. And it was fortunate that they had shipped him to Boston and not New York. At least here she could visit him every day.

She stayed with him while they settled him in the hospital, but after that she had to ride back to the dock with the ambulance and finish work.

“I'll come back tonight,” she promised him. And by the time she got back to her parents' house after work, and borrowed their car, it was after six o'clock. It was nearly seven when she got to him, all clean and neatly tucked into clean sheets by then, he was sound asleep. She sat next to him, without disturbing him, and she was surprised when, two hours later, he stirred. He turned, grimacing painfully, and then sensed her watching him, and opened his eyes.

“Am I dreaming? Or am I in Heaven?” he said with a sleepy smile. “That can't be you sitting there, Kate…. I never did anything in my life to deserve this.”

“Yes, you did.” She gently kissed his cheeks and then his lips. “I'm the lucky one. My mother was afraid I'd be an old maid.”

“I figured you'd have married that kid Andy by now, the one you always said was just a friend. Guys like that always wind up with the girl when the hero dies.”

“Guess not,” she said cryptically, “the hero didn't die.”

“No,” Joe said, rolling on his back with a sigh. His legs were encased in heavy plaster casts. “I never thought I'd get out of that prison again. I was sure they were going to kill me every day. I guess they were having too much fun to let me die.” They had tortured him mercilessly. She couldn't even imagine eighteen months in the hell he had known, or how he had survived, but thank God he had.

She stayed with him until after ten o'clock, and then finally went home, more because she could see how tired he was than because she wanted to leave. And they were going to give him medication for the pain in his legs. He was dozing off again when she left, and she stood for a minute, looking at the strong, distinct face that she had dreamed of a million times.

And when she got home, her father was waiting up for her.

“How is he, Kate?” he asked, looking concerned. He'd still been at the office when she came to pick up the car.

“He's alive,” she beamed, “and in surprisingly good shape. His legs are in casts, and his face is a mess.” He'd had hair to his waist when they fished him out, but they had cut it at the hospital in Germany. Joe said he had looked a lot worse then. “It's really a miracle he's with us, Dad.” He smiled at the look on his daughter's face. It had been years since he'd seen her smile like that. It warmed his heart to see her happy again.

“He'll be flying again in no time, if I know him.” Clarke smiled.

“I'm afraid you may be right.” They still had to see about his legs, and maybe operate again, and there was a chance he would have a limp. But there were far worse fates. He had come back from the dead, and whatever was left of him would be enough for her.

Her father looked serious for a moment then. “Andy called when you were out. What are you going to say to him, Kate?”

“Nothing till he gets back.” She had been thinking about it on the way home, and felt badly for him. It was just blind luck, and she hoped he would understand. “I'll tell him the truth,” she said honestly. “As soon as I tell him Joe is back, he'll know. I'm not sure I could ever have married him, Dad. He knew I was still in love with Joe.

“So did your mother and I. We hoped you'd get over it, for your sake, if he was gone. We didn't want you to pine for him for the rest of your life. Will you two be getting married now?” he asked. It seemed pretty obvious to him that they would, after all they'd been through. It was clear to him at least that they were bound together for life.

“We didn't talk about it. He's still pretty sick, Dad. I don't think it's a big issue at the moment.”

When Clarke Jamison went to visit Joe the next day, he could see why not. He was shocked at how terrible he looked, it was worse than he'd imagined. Kate had seen so many wounded men by then that it hadn't startled her as much as it might have otherwise. She had actually expected him to look worse than he did.

Joe was thrilled to see him, and they talked for a long time. Clarke didn't ask him about his experience in Germany, he thought it was best not to talk about it, but eventually Joe told him what it had been like, and about getting shot down. It was an incredible story, but Joe was in amazingly good spirits in spite of it. And his eyes lit up when he saw Kate. She had come to visit him while her father was still there. He left them to each other a few minutes after that, and Kate inquired about his legs. The doctors had examined him, and thought that things looked hopeful. They'd done a good job in Germany of setting his legs.

For the next month, Kate visited him every evening after work, she sat with him every weekend, and rolled him into the garden in his wheelchair. He called her the angel of mercy. And when no one was looking, they kissed and held hands. By the time he'd been home for two weeks, he was threatening to leave the hospital and take her to a hotel, and she laughed at him.

“You wouldn't get very far with those on,” she pointed at his casts. But she was as anxious to get her hands on him as he was on her. They had to content themselves with clandestine kisses for the time being. He wasn't well enough to go anywhere, but with each day he was better able to move his legs, in spite of the casts. And when they took them off four weeks after he arrived, much to everyone's amazement, he started walking. He could only take a few steps at first, and he was on crutches, but the prognosis was very good.

Both her parents had come to see him by then, and her mother had brought him books and flowers. She was very pleasant to him, but the day after their visit, she cornered Kate in the kitchen, with an earnest look in her eyes.

“Have you and Joe talked about getting married yet?” she asked pointedly, as Kate sighed in irritation.

“Mom, have you seen the condition he's in? Why don't we get him on his feet first?”

“You cried over him for two years, Kate. And you've known him for nearly five. Is there some reason you two aren't making plans, or is there something I don't know here? Is he married?”

“Of course he's not. He's not going anywhere. I just don't think it's important. He's alive, that's all I wanted, Mom.”

“That's abnormal. And what about Andy?” Kate sat down with a serious look in answer to her question.

“He's coming home this week, I'll tell him then.”

“Tell him what? There doesn't seem to be anything to tell him. Maybe you'd better give it some thought before you decide you can't see him anymore. Kate, mark my words, as soon as Joe is on his feet, he's not going to be heading down the aisle with you, he's going to be running for the nearest airstrip. All he did was talk about planes yesterday. He's a lot more excited about flying than about being with you. Maybe you'd better face that, before it's too late.”

“It's what he loves, Mom.” But her mother was right. He was already talking constantly about flying. He was dying to get in an airplane, almost as much as he wanted to go to bed with her, but she couldn't say that to her mother.

“How much does he love you, Kate? I think that's a far more relevant question.”

“Can't he love both? Does he have to make a choice?”

“I don't know, Kate. Can he love both? I'm not sure he can. One may be exclusive of the other.”

“That's crazy. I don't expect him to give up flying. It's his life. It always has been.”

“He's nearly thirty-five years old, and he's just spent two years damn near dead. If he's going to settle down and get married, and have a family, I'd say this would be a good time.” Kate didn't disagree with her, but she didn't want to pressure him. They hadn't talked about it yet. Kate just assumed it would happen eventually. She wasn't worried about it. She might as well have been married to him anyway, they were totally devoted to each other. He had no interest whatsoever in other women, just in airplanes.

Andy came to the house to see Kate the day he got home. He had just gotten off the train from Chicago, after spending the last weeks of his vacation in San Francisco. He was a little disappointed that she hadn't met him at the train, but he also knew how hard she was working. It was a hot day, and she looked thoroughly wilted when she got home. They had unloaded two ships that day. Andy looked thrilled to see her, far more than she did him. He knew instantly that something had happened while he was gone.

“Are you okay?” he asked when her parents left them alone. Her mother went upstairs to her dressing room, and she cried when she thought of what Kate was going to say. She knew it was going to crush him, but Liz knew that Kate had to be honest with him. And she was of no use to any man now, except Joe. She adored him.

“I'm fine, just tired,” she said, brushing her hair back. He had tried to kiss her when her parents left the room, and she seemed uncomfortable and awkward with him. She knew she couldn't wait any longer. “No, I guess, I'm not fine… or I am… but we're not.”

“What does all that mean?” He looked worried, and he already sensed some of what was coming. But she knew that the news that Joe was alive, and home again, was going to stun him, almost as much as it had her.

She turned to face him bravely then, she hated hurting him. But she had no choice. Fate had dealt them a tough hand, and Joe an extremely good one. It obviously wasn't meant to be for her to be with Andy. They both had to accept that. But it would be easier for her to accept than for him. All her dreams had just come true, and Andy's were about to end. And as he looked at her, he knew, even before he heard the words.

“What exactly happened while I was gone, Kate?” His voice sounded strangled as he asked.

“Joe came home,” she said simply. That said it all for him. It was over between them. He had no illusions about what she felt for him.

“He's alive? How did he manage that? Was he in a prisoner of war camp?” It seemed impossible that the War Office had thought he was dead for nearly two years, and now he was back.

“He was in prison, under a false name, and he escaped and was caught again. They never knew who he was. It's a miracle that he's alive, although he's pretty badly wounded.” All Andy could see in her eyes was what she felt for Joe. There was nothing for him.

“And where does that leave us, Kate? Or do I even need to ask?” The love in her eyes when she spoke of Joe told the entire story. “I guess I don't need to ask, do I? He's a lucky guy. You never stopped loving him for a second the entire time he was gone. I always knew that. I figured you'd get over it in time. It never occurred to me that you might be right and he could be alive. I thought you just didn't want to face his being dead. I hope he knows how much you love him.”

“I think he loves me just as much,” she said softly. She hated the look in Andy's eyes. He was being gentlemanly, but he looked devastated by what he'd just heard.

“Are you getting married?” Andy wanted to know, and wished she had told him before he'd gotten home, although he understood why she hadn't. It would have been an even bigger shock hearing it on the phone. But he had spent the whole summer thinking about her, and planning their engagement and subsequent marriage. He'd been planning to pick out a ring for her as soon as he got back to Boston.

“Not for the moment. Eventually, I guess. I'm not worried about it.”

“I wish you luck, Kate,” Andy said nobly, “both of you. Offer Joe my congratulations.” He only hesitated for a moment then, and she reached out a hand to him, but he didn't take it. He walked quietly out of the house, got in his car, and drove away.

10

JOE LEFT THE HOSPITAL two months after he'd arrived, on canes, with stiff legs, but they were coming along. The doctors thought he might be walking normally by Christmas. No one could believe the recovery he'd made, least of all Kate. It still seemed like a miracle to her that he was with them.

Two days after he left the hospital, he got his discharge papers. They had already spent an afternoon at the Copley Plaza Hotel by then. She couldn't get away for an entire night, now that she was living with her parents. And he had accepted their kind invitation to stay with them. But he was well aware that he couldn't live with them forever, and he wanted privacy with Kate.

Joe had already called Charles Lindbergh long before he left the hospital, and he was planning to go to New York to see him. His mentor had some interesting ideas he wanted to discuss with Joe, and there were some people he wanted him to meet. Joe was going to stay in New York for several days, and then come back to Boston.

Kate drove him to the train on her way to work the week after he'd gotten out of the hospital. It was the end of September by then, and the war was over. Victory in Japan had finally come in August. The nightmare had ended at last.

“Have fun in New York,” she kissed him before he left the car. She had found a way of sneaking into his room at night without waking her parents. It was too hard for him to get to her. And they both felt like mischievous children as they whispered in his bed every night.

“I'll be back in a few days. I'll call you. Don't pick up any soldiers while I'm gone, please.”

“Then don't stay gone too long,” she warned, and he wagged a finger at her. She still couldn't believe how lucky she was, how lucky they both were. He had been wonderful to her. Even her mother had finally relented. Despite the fact that he loved flying, he was a good man, and a responsible person, and it was obvious to everyone how much he loved her. Her parents were expecting them to get engaged any day.

She hadn't heard from Andy again since she'd told him Joe was back. She knew he was in New York by then, working for his father. And all she could hope was that he was feeling better, and he'd forgive her someday. She missed his presence in her life. It felt like losing her best friend. But she still wasn't convinced that his warm friendship would have been enough to make her love him as a husband. Things had obviously worked out the way they should.

She waved as Joe hobbled off toward the train. He was getting around surprisingly well, and was very independent. She drove off to work, thinking about him, and for the rest of the day, her mind was occupied with the men she was helping there.

She had hoped he would call her that night, but he didn't. He called her instead early the next morning.

“How's it going?” she asked him.

“Very interesting,” he said cryptically, “I'll tell you about it when I get back.” He was rushing off to a meeting, and she had to go to work. “I'll call you tonight. I promise.” And this time, he called her. He'd been in meetings all day with the men that Charles Lindbergh had introduced him to. And much to Kate's delight, Joe made it back to Boston by the weekend. And she was more than a little bowled over by what he had to say.

The men Charles had introduced him to wanted to start a company with him, to design and build the most advanced airplanes. They had been buying land since the beginning of the war, had remodeled an old factory, and they even had their own airstrip. They were setting up the entire operation in New Jersey, and they not only wanted Joe to run it, but to design and test the planes. He was going to wear a lot of hats at first, but eventually when things settled down, he would run the whole operation. They wanted to put up the money. He would be the brains.

“It's the perfect setup, Kate,” he said with an ecstatic grin that warmed the chiseled face. Nothing made him happier than airplanes. But she had to admit it sounded perfect for him. “I get fifty percent ownership, and if we ever become a listed company, I get half the stock. It's a sweet deal, for me at least.”

“And a lot of work,” she added. But the entire project sounded as though it had been tailor-made for him.

Joe explained it to her father that night, and Clarke was extremely impressed by everything Joe said. He knew of the investors by name, and said they were very sound. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for Joe.

“When do you start?” he asked with interest.

“I have to be in New Jersey a week from Monday. It's not a bad place. It's less than an hour from New York. I probably won't leave the factory much at first, and we have to make some changes to the airstrip.” His mind was already spinning with everything he was going to do. His own expertise was going to serve him well, and Clarke agreed with Kate enthusiastically, it was perfect for him.

And as Clarke congratulated him, Kate's mother spoke unexpectedly, and startled them all.

“Does this mean you two will be getting married soon?” she asked, and as Joe looked at Kate, there was silence in the room.

“I don't know, Mom,” Kate tried to fob her off, but her mother had long since gotten tired of waiting for Joe to come up with the idea himself. As far as she was concerned, it was time to ask him directly about his intentions toward their daughter. Kate was blushing when she answered her mother. And Joe looked equally embarrassed, and didn't know what to say.

“Why don't you let Joe answer the question. It sounds like you've landed yourself a wonderful opportunity with this job, not just for work temporarily, but for a real future. What are your plans now for Kate?” She had waited for him for two years, and loved him for another two before that. It had been five years since they met, long enough, as far as Liz was concerned, to not only figure out his intentions, but declare them to her.

“I don't know, Mrs. Jamison. Kate and I haven't discussed it,” Joe said, avoiding her gaze, and Kate's. What her mother was saying was making him feel trapped, in spite of all he felt for Kate. Her mother was treating him like a wayward, irresponsible child, and not a man worthy of respect.

“I suggest you give it some thought. It damn near killed her when you got shot down. I think she deserves a little recognition for her loyalty and courage. She waited a long time for you, Joe.” Listening to Elizabeth Jamison was like being told he was a naughty boy. And all he could feel was anger and guilt. Hearing her made him want to run away.

“I know,” Joe said calmly. “I didn't realize marriage was that important to her.” She had never said anything to him about it, and they were having a great time sneaking into each other's bedrooms at night. But the burden of guilt her mother was forcing on him weighed heavily on him, although nothing showed.

“If marriage isn't important to her,” Liz said, as her husband watched her with amazement. She had stolen the show for the moment, but he didn't disagree with her. It was just a more direct approach than he would have used, if he had chosen to broach the subject with Joe. “If it isn't important to her, Joe, it should be. And maybe it's time we reminded you both of that. Maybe this would be a fine time to announce your engagement.” He hadn't even asked her to marry him, and he didn't look overly happy to be pressured by her mother, but he could also appreciate their point of view. There was no question in his mind that he loved her, and maybe they needed to know that. But he didn't feel ready to do as they wished. His freedom was something he had to be willing to give, not something they could take from him. And he had a firm grip on it still.

“If you don't mind, Mrs. Jamison, I'd rather wait to get engaged until I get my feet wet in this new job, and get the project well in hand. It's going to take a little time, but then I'll really have something to offer your daughter. I thought by then, we could live in New York, and I could commute to New Jersey.” He had already been planning ahead. But he hadn't even started the job yet. And he wasn't ready for marriage. Kate knew that. And she could also see the look of panic in his eyes. What her mother was saying was making him want to run. Joe was not a man you could push or force into a cage.

“That sounds reasonable,” Clarke stepped in then. It was beginning to sound like the Spanish Inquisition, and he gave his wife a sign that he felt the conversation should end. She had made her point, and everyone got it. And what Joe said made sense. There was no real hurry, and he needed to establish himself. He had undertaken an enormous job.

The evening broke up shortly afterward, and later that night, Kate was irate when she joined him in his room.

“I can't believe the way my mother behaved at dinner. I apologize. My father should have stopped her. I thought she was incredibly rude to you.” Kate was furious with her, which in turn allowed Joe to be magnanimous toward Kate.

“It's all right, sweetheart. They care about you, and they want to be sure I'll make you happy, and that I'm a serious guy. I'd have done the same thing if you were my daughter. I just didn't realize how much a concern it was to them, right now at least. Have you been worried about it?” He put his arms around her and kissed her as he asked her. He didn't look as nervous as he had when Kate's mother had been grilling him.

“No, I haven't been worried about it. And you're much too generous. I thought she was disgusting. I'm really sorry.” Kate looked deeply chagrined, which was a relief to him.

“Don't be. My intentions are honorable, Miss Jamison, I promise. Although, if you don't mind, I'd like to take advantage of you in the meantime.” As he slipped her nightgown off, she giggled. The last thing on her mind at that particular moment was marriage. She was divinely happy just being with him. All she wanted was his love, not a leash.

The scene in her parents' bedroom was a little less romantic. Her father had been scolding her mother for taking the bull by the horns.

“I don't see why you're upset,” she told Clarke. “Someone had to ask him, and you wouldn't.” It was an accusatory tone he had learned not to react to over the years.

“The poor boy just returned from the dead moments ago. Give him a chance to get on his feet again, Liz. It's not fair to push him so soon.” But she disagreed with him. She was a woman on a mission, and she would not be swayed.

“He's not a boy, Clarke. He's a thirty-four-year-old man, he's been back for two months, and he's seen her every day. He's had ample opportunity to propose to her, and he hasn't.” That spoke volumes to her, if not to Clarke.

“He wants to get set with his job first. That's entirely reasonable and respectable, and I approve.”

“I wish I were as sure as you are that he's going to do the right thing. I think once he gets into a plane again, he's going to forget all about marrying her. He's obsessed with airplanes and not nearly as interested in marriage. I don't want her hanging around forever waiting for him.”

“I'll lay you a wager tonight that they're married in a year, maybe before that,” Clarke said confidently, as his wife glared at him, as though he were to blame. But he was used to it.

“That at least is a bet I will enjoy losing,” she said, as he smiled at her. She was like a lioness defending her cub, and he admired her for it, but he wasn't nearly as sure that Kate and Joe had enjoyed it. Joe had looked particularly awkward while he was under attack, and more uncomfortable than Clarke had ever seen. It had made Clarke feel sorry for Joe.

“Why don't you trust him, Liz?” Clarke asked her as he got into bed with her. He knew she didn't, she made no secret of it, although she admitted that she liked him, but not necessarily for Kate. Liz would have been much happier if Kate had married Andy. In her eyes, he would have been a much better husband than Joe.

“I think men like Joe don't marry.” She explained to Clarke. “And if they do, they botch it. They don't really know what marriage is. It's something they do in their spare time when they're not playing with their toys or their friends. They're not bad guys, but the women in their lives are less important to them. I like Joe a lot, he's a decent man and I know he loves her, but I'm not sure he'll ever pay attention to her. He's going to spend the rest of his life playing with his airplanes, and now he's going to get paid to do it. And if it's a success, he'll never marry her.”

“I think he will,” Kate's father said firmly. “And at least he'll be able to support her. In fact, he might wind up making quite a lot of money, from what he said. I don't think you're right, Liz. I think he can manage both a wife and a career. He's a bright guy. In fact, sometimes I think he's brilliant. He's a genius with airplanes, and God knows he can fly them. He just has to come down to earth once in a while to keep her happy. They love each other, that ought to be enough.”

“Sometimes it isn't,” she said sadly. “I hope it will be, for them. They've come through an awful lot, they deserve some happiness now. I just want to see Kate settled with a man who loves her, a nice home, and some kids.”

“She'll get there. He's crazy about her.” Clarke was sure.

“I hope so,” she said with a sigh as she slid down into her bed, and cuddled up next to her husband. She wanted Kate to be as happy as she was, and that was a lot to ask. Men like Clarke Jamison were rare.

But in his room, Kate was lying in Joe's arms, happy and sated, and pressed up close to him, as they drifted off to sleep together.

“I love you,” she whispered, and he smiled sleepily in answer.

“I love you too, sweetheart…. I even love your mother.” She giggled, and a moment later they were fast asleep, as were Liz and Clarke. One pair lovers, the other married. It was hard to say who was happier that night.

11

WHEN JOE LEFT for New Jersey, he promised to have Kate come down to spend the weekend with him after he settled in. He thought it would take him a couple of weeks, but it was a month before he found an apartment. There was a hotel nearby where she could stay, where he had been living for the past month. But the truth was he had no time to spend with her. He was working night and day, and staying in the office until well after midnight. And he was working weekends too. Sometimes he even slept in his office on the couch.

Joe was hiring people, setting up the factory, and redesigning the airstrip. He never seemed to come up for air, but the aeronautics industry was beginning to get interested in what he was doing in a major way. The whole plant they were setting up was going to be highly innovative, and there had already been several articles about it in business sections and trade papers. He barely managed to call Kate at night, and it had been six weeks since he left Boston when he finally let her come to see him for a weekend. He looked exhausted when she arrived. And when he explained to her all that he'd been doing, Kate was enormously impressed. It was a fantastic operation, and Joe loved the fact that when he explained it to her, she understood it all.

They had a wonderful weekend together. They spent most of it at the plant, and even got some flying time in a brand-new plane he had designed. When she got back to Boston, she described it all to her father. He was dying to see it too. People in the business world were beginning to realize that Joe was making history with his ideas.

Two weeks later, Joe came up to spend Thanksgiving with them. But he was having problems with the factory, and on Friday morning he had to go back. He had responsibilities he'd never had before, and an entire industry was resting on his shoulders. Sometimes it felt like the whole world. Joe was handling it well, but it left him no spare time to play, or even call Kate much of the time. And by Christmas, in spite of her enthusiasm about his work, she was complaining to him. She had seen him twice in three months, and she was lonely in Boston without him. And every time she said it to him, he felt consumed by guilt, but there was nothing he could do.

Kate was beginning to think her mother was right, and they should get married. At least they'd be together then, instead of miles apart. She said as much to Joe when he came to spend Christmas with them, and he looked surprised.

“Now? I'm home about five hours a night, Kate. That wouldn't be much fun. And I can't move to New York yet.” Marriage still didn't make sense to him.

“So we'll live in New Jersey. At least we'd be together,” Kate said reasonably. She was tired of living with her parents. And she didn't want to get her own apartment in Boston, if they were going to get married. She felt as though she were living in suspended animation, waiting for him to set up his business, and have time for a life. But it was no easy task for him. He had taken on a mammoth project, and he was only just then beginning to realize how much time and effort it was going to take to do it right. In three months, he had barely scratched the surface. He was working a hundred and twenty hours a week, or more.

“I think it's silly for us to get married now,” he explained to her on Christmas Eve, after he snuck into her bedroom. To Kate, it was beginning to seem like a crazy way to live, and a frustrating way to see each other. She felt like a child, still living with her parents. By then, most of her friends were married. Those who hadn't gotten married before or during the war, were all getting married now, and having babies. She was suddenly anxious to get started or at least live with him. “Just give me time to set this up, and then we'll find an apartment in New York and get married. I promise.” A year before he'd been in prison in Germany, being tortured by the Germans. And suddenly he was running a major empire. It was an enormous adjustment for him. And he didn't want to get married until he had time for her. He thought it wouldn't be fair to her otherwise. But neither was this.

He spent a wonderful Christmas with her family, and managed to spend three days in Boston. Kate and Joe went flying again, and they even spent an entire day in bed in a hotel, and by the time he left, Kate was feeling better. He was right. It made more sense to wait until he had a good grip on the business. Kate understood that. Things were winding down at the Red Cross, so she decided to look for a job. And she found something she liked right after New Year's. She had spent New Year's Eve in New Jersey with Joe, and it made her realize again how lucky they were. The year before she'd been crying for him, thinking he was gone forever. She would have given anything then for what she had now, even if she seldom saw him. At least they had a whole life ahead of them, and a rosy future once they got married.

January was difficult for both of them. She was adjusting to a new job in an art gallery, and he had a terrible battle with the unions. For him, the entire month was a nightmare, and February was worse. He didn't make it up for Valentine's Day, in fact he forgot it completely. They had failed to get their final permit for the airstrip. It was crucial for them, and he had to spend three days romancing politicians and lobbying petty officials to get it. He only remembered that it had been Valentine's Day when she called him two days later, crying. They hadn't seen each other in six weeks by then, and he promised to make it up to her, and suggested she come down again for the weekend.

They had a great time while she was there. She helped him organize his office, and he even managed to take her out to dinner. He stayed at the hotel with her, and she went back to Boston on Sunday night smiling and happy. She enjoyed it so much, she wanted to come down every weekend, which sounded good to him. He was lonely and he missed her, but he also knew he had to work eighteen hours a day, even on weekends, just as he did on weekdays. He felt terrible about Kate, but for the moment, there was nothing he could do. He felt as though he were on a constant merry-go-round, trapped between feeling guilty about Kate and running a business that devoured his every waking hour. And the worse he felt about Kate, the less time he seemed to have. It didn't even make sense to him. Finally, in desperation, three weeks later, he let her come down for a week, so they could be together. And he was surprised by how smoothly things went when she helped out in the office. He only caught glimpses of her all day, but she seemed blissfully happy. And at least they could sleep together at night, and have breakfast together at the coffee shop in the morning. The rest of the day's meals he ate at his desk or on the run. The only time he actually sat down to dinner at a restaurant was when she came to visit him in New Jersey, and then he felt guilty for the time it cost him. He felt like a man being pulled in ten thousand directions at once. And he was.

Things didn't even begin to fall into place until May. And by then, she quit her job, and came down to work for him for the summer. It worked perfectly, and although she kept a room at the hotel for the sake of respectability, she stayed at his apartment with him. She had never been happier in her life, and he had to admit it suited him too. She was no longer complaining about not seeing him. It seemed like the perfect arrangement, to them, if not to her parents. They weren't pleased about her visiting Joe in New Jersey, but she was twenty-three years old, and she told them she stayed at the hotel. She had the room at the hotel in case they called.

Joe had been home for a year by then, and neither of them ever talked about an engagement. They were far too busy thinking about his work. It was only when he took a week's holiday and went up to the Cape with them, that her father took him aside, and had a serious talk with him. It had been nearly a year since Liz's last outburst. And she was furious by then with both Joe and Kate. She had begun to suspect what their living arrangements were, and she disapproved vehemently, if she was right. What if Kate got pregnant? Would he even marry her then? She fumed every time she looked at Joe. And more than ever, Kate's mother made Joe feel like a wicked child. Whenever he saw her, it made him want to run. She was like a constant guilt machine, spewing at him, even when she didn't say a word. She didn't need to anymore. And Kate felt torn between her parents and Joe.

By then, Clarke wasn't happy either, it had gone on for too long, and he said as much to Joe as they took a walk on the beach in Cape Cod. Joe had flown up from New Jersey in a beautifully designed plane that his company was making. They were pulling in huge money. Joe's life was in a far distant place than it had been in a year before, when he was taken off the hospital ship in Boston. He was becoming a very rich man. But he was too busy to breathe. And Clarke was worried about both of them. He was fond of Joe.

Joe took Clarke up in his new plane, and they agreed not to tell Liz, who was even more furious now that she knew that Kate often flew with Joe. Despite his history as a flying ace, and his years as a war hero, she was still convinced he was going to crash and kill them both. She had been beside herself when she discovered that Joe was giving Kate flying lessons. Kate had slipped and told her inadvertently. But Joe was confident about how capable Kate was. He had taught her well, although she hadn't had time to qualify for her license yet. She was too busy working for him.

Clarke was vastly impressed by Joe's fabulous new plane, and afterward on the way back to the house they stopped at a roadhouse for some beers. It was a hot summer day, and Joe was happy with his plane. But Clarke had a lot on his mind, his daughter's happiness, his wife's sanity, and he wanted to offer Joe some fatherly advice. It was why he had gone flying with Joe, although he had enjoyed the plane.

“You're working too hard, son,” he began. “You're going to miss out on life, and at the speed you're moving, you could make some important mistakes that will cost you in the long run.” Joe recognized instantly that he was talking about Kate, but he also knew that all was well with them. It was her mother who was in a constant frenzy about the status quo.

“Things will settle down in a while, Clarke, the business is young,” he said confidently.

“So are you, but you won't be for long. You should enjoy it now.”

“I am. I love what I'm doing.” He did, and it showed. But he also loved Kate, and Clarke knew that too. Enough so that he felt justified violating a promise he had made to Liz years before, to not talk about her late husband's suicide, or even that Clarke wasn't Kate's father, to people who hadn't been around then. When Clarke had adopted Kate, Liz had told him she didn't want John Barrett's suicide hanging over Kate like a dark cloud for the rest of her life. But Clarke knew better than Liz that in a silent way it had anyway. And he thought that Joe should know. It was an important piece of who Kate was, and couldn't be ignored. It wasn't fair to her, or even Joe. And Clarke thought it might open Joe's eyes, and his heart, if he knew.

“There's something about Kate I think you should know,” Clarke said quietly after they had finished their second round of beers and switched to gin. He knew that Liz wouldn't be pleased if they both came home drunk, but at the moment he didn't care. He had made up his mind about telling Joe, and needed to steel himself for the task.

“That sounds mysterious,” Joe said with a grin. He liked Clarke, and for his entire life, he had been more comfortable with men. Kate was the only woman he had ever felt open and easy with, and even she frightened him sometimes. Particularly when she got wound up about something, which fortunately, was rare. But when she did, any sense of intensity or criticism drove him away. He'd never explained it to her. He thought telling her when she frightened him might make him even more vulnerable. After his early years with his cousins constantly telling him how worthless he was, any hint of that in the years since made him want to run. It was the button Kate's mother pushed in him, with unpleasant results every time.

“It is mysterious,” Clarke confirmed to him about Kate. “Not so much mysterious as dark. And I don't want either Liz or Kate to know that we talked about this. I mean that, Joe,” he said fervently on their second gin. Clarke was beginning to feel tight, and Joe was grinning a lot. He always got expansive when he drank. It took some of the pressure off him.

“So what's the dark mystery?” Joe asked with a boyish smile. He was growing ever more fond of Clarke, and always had been. He thought he was a good man. They respected each other and had from the first.

“I'm not her father, Joe,” Clarke said quietly, suddenly sober again. He had never in thirteen years said those words. And as he looked at Joe, the younger man's smile faded as their eyes met.

“What does that mean? It doesn't make sense.” He looked worried now. He could sense something ugly lurking near.

“Liz was married before. For a long time. Nearly thirty years. We've only been married for fourteen. Feels like forever though at times,” he said with a grin and Joe laughed. But he also knew how much Clarke loved Liz. He had to, to put up with her. “Her husband was a friend of mine, he was a good man, gentle, kind, from a great family. His brother and I went to school together, which was how I met John. He lost everything in the crash of'29, not only his own and his family's, but all of the money of the people whose investments he handled, and some of Liz's fortune as well. Fortunately, her own family had kept a tight rein on most of hers, and they were luckier than John. Most of her money was intact after the crash. But John lost it all.” It was a story Clarke didn't want to tell, and Joe was suddenly afraid to hear. “It damn near killed him at the time. He was the most honorable man I knew, and it destroyed him on the spot. It took him two years, locked in a bedroom upstairs, sitting in the dark. He tried to drink himself to death, but it didn't work. So he shot himself in ‘31. Kate was eight when he died.”

“Was she there? Did she see him do it?” Joe looked horrified at the image Clarke had conjured for him, but the older man shook his head.

“No, thank God. Liz found him. I think Kate was in school. It was all over by the time she got home. But she knew how he died. I had known Liz and John and Kate for years and years, all of Kate's life, and most of John's. I did what I could for them afterward, with no other motive, I might add, except to lend a hand. Liz was in shock. I had lost my own wife several years before. Eventually things developed between Liz and myself, but I think I fell in love with Kate even before I fell in love with Liz. She was a terrified, heartbroken little girl after her father died. I never thought she'd be the same again. She was eight then. I married Liz a year later, and adopted Kate a year after that, when she was ten. It took me another two years to bring her back from the cave she'd been hiding in since John killed himself. I don't think she really trusted me, or anyone else, for years, particularly men. And Liz adored the child, but I'm not sure she really knew how to reach out to her, she was too shocked by his death herself. There was a terrible moment when Liz got sick right after we got married. It was nothing more than a bad case of influenza. But you could see Kate panic. She was terrified to lose her mother. I'm not sure Liz really understood it. It's taken Kate her entire life to become the woman she is now. Strong, confident, happy, funny, capable. The woman you love was a terrified, broken little girl for a long time. I think for years she was afraid that I would abandon her in some way too, like her father. Poor bastard, he couldn't help himself. He didn't have the stamina to survive what happened to him, no matter how much money Liz had. It destroyed all his self-respect, his manhood, his pride. But when he killed himself, he destroyed Kate, or damn near.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Joe asked suspiciously, still looking shocked by what he'd heard.

“Because it's an important part of Kate. She loved her father and he adored her. And then she came to love me. And now you. You went off to the war and she thought you were dead for nearly two years. It would have been a tragedy for any girl, but it was more than that for Kate. It opened all her old wounds again, I could see it in her eyes every day. It was a kind of loss that could have destroyed her this time, if she weren't as strong as she is. And then, miraculously, you came back from the dead. Life was kind to her this time. But there's a broken piece in her that you need to see, if you're going to love her. Every time you leave her, or reject her, or make her feel abandoned in some way, you remind her of everything she's ever lost. She's like a wounded doe, you need to be gentle with her, and give her a good home. If you're kind to her, she'll be good to you forever, Joe. But you need to know about that broken piece. She's like a bird with a broken wing, no matter how well you think she can fly. You have to be gentle with that wing…. She's the most beautiful little bird I've ever seen, and she'll fly farther than anyone for you. Just don't frighten her, and you won't, if you know what she's been through.” Joe sat in silence for a long time, pondering Clarke's words. It was a heavy dose of reality to be sharing on a summer day over a couple of gins. But he was right, it was an important piece of Kate, and it explained a lot to him. There was a sense of panic about her when he was away from her. She never expressed it openly, but when he left her to go somewhere, he could always see it in her eyes. And that look of terror had frightened him at times. It was like the shadow of the leash he had fled from all his life.

“What are you saying to me, Clarke?” Joe asked, but more important, he was wondering why.

“I think you should marry her, Joe. Not for the reasons Liz wants for her. She wants pomp and circumstance and respectability, a big party and a white dress. I want to know she's got a good home. She deserves it, Joe, more than most. Her father took something from her that none of us will ever be able to give back. But you can, not entirely, but enough to make a difference for the rest of her life. I want her to feel safe and to have the comfort of knowing you're going to stick around.”

Listening to him made Joe want to scream “what about me?” Marrying her was exactly what he feared most. A leash. A cage. A trap. No matter how much he loved her, and he did, the marriage itself was an enormous threat to him. More than Clarke could ever suspect.

“I'm not sure I can,” Joe said honestly, with the assistance of the gin.

“Why not?”

“It feels like a trap. Or a noose around my neck. My parents deserted me in a different way. They died and left me to people who hated me. They were rotten to me, and whenever I think of marriage, or families, or getting tied down, it just makes me want to run.”

“She'll be good to you, Joe. I know her well. She's a good girl, and she loves you more than life.”

“That scares me too,” he said honestly, “I don't want to be loved that much.” Clarke watched his eyes and saw fear peering out at him. A deeper fear than he'd ever seen there before. “I'm not sure that I can give her the love she needs and wants. I don't want to disappoint her, Clarke, or let her down. I couldn't stand the guilt if I failed somehow. I love her too much to do that to her.”

“We all fail at some time. We learn from it. She's good for you. You'll teach each other, even if it hurts sometimes. Love heals a lot of wounds. Liz has healed a lot of mine.” It was a side of her Joe had never thought of before, but he was willing to believe Clarke. She had obviously been through a lot. “You'll be a lonely man one day if you don't let someone love you, Joe. It's a high price to pay for letting yourself run.”

“Maybe so,” Joe said noncommittally, staring down at his glass.

“You need each other, Joe. She needs your strength, and knowing that you won't run out on her, that you love her enough to marry her. And you need her strength too, and her warmth. It's cold out there alone. I was there for a long time after my wife died. It's a sad life. A girl like Kate won't let you be sad, if you let her in, even just a little bit. She'll make you mad as hell sometimes, but she won't break your heart. She may scare the hell out of you, but she won't break you, you're a lot stronger than you think. You're not a kid anymore, no one can do to you what your cousins did. You're a man now, Joe, they're gone. They're just ghosts. Don't let them run your life.”

“Why not? It's worked so far, hasn't it? I'd say I have a pretty good life.” Joe smiled cynically.

“That's my point. You'll have a better life if you share it with her. You'll be a sad man if you lose her one day. And you might. Women are funny that way. They leave when we least expect them to. You can lose anyone if you try hard enough. She won't leave you though, unless you force her to. She loves you too much. Grab her while you can. For both your sakes. I want this for both of you. Trust me, son. It will be good for you both. And if you give her a chance to grow up, you'll have a good woman on your hands. I think now she's probably afraid that sooner or later you'll run out on her.”

“I might,” Joe said, looking Clarke squarely in the eye.

“I hope you don't. But even if you do, I hope you'll be man enough to come back and give it another chance. It's rare to see what you two have. You won't get away from each other now, no matter what you do, or how far you run. What you've got runs too deep and it's too strong. I see it in your eyes, and hers. You'll both lose if you run. The kind of love you two have is for life, Joe. Whether you're together or not.” It was a life sentence of sorts to Joe, and yet behind his own fears, even Joe sensed that Clarke was right and what he said was true.

“I'll think about it,” Joe said quietly, and Clarke nodded. There was nothing more he could say. He had spoken from the heart, out of love for both Kate and Joe.

“She still has some growing up to do. Give her a chance, Joe. And don't tell her what I told you today about her father. I think she's ashamed of it. She'll tell you herself one day.”

“I'm glad to know.” Although in truth it complicated things for him. Knowing how she felt about her father's suicide, and what she perceived as his abandoning her, put an even greater burden on Joe. It didn't seem fair somehow. He had his own problems from the past. And yet one thing Clarke had said he knew was true. Joe had never loved anyone as much in his life, nor had Kate. And he could easily believe that what they shared would not come again. But the irony was that he had a need to run away, to flee, to be free, and she had a need to hang on for dear life. It was like a tug-of-war to see who would win. And yet, he sensed that if they could each relax their grip, it could work between them. But knowing what he did of her now, he wondered if she ever would. And could he? If nothing else, learning the dance with each other would take time. And Clarke knew that too. But they both had lots of it. They were young. The only question Clarke had was if they were both wise enough to stick with it long enough to make it work for both of them. He could only pray that they would be. They had too much to lose if they were not.

Joe drove them back to the house, although he'd had a lot to drink. And Clarke confessed that he was properly drunk. Liz noticed it as soon as they walked in, but she didn't say anything. And Clarke walked over and gave her a hug. And for once, Joe was relieved to see that she didn't scold either of them, she just laughed and brought two cups of steaming coffee out for both of them, as Clarke accepted one regretfully and said that he hated to spoil a good drunk, and then winked at Joe. A deeper friendship had formed between them that afternoon, and Joe knew that whatever happened between him and Kate, he would always have a soft spot for Clarke.

Joe and Kate took a walk down the beach after dinner that night. They were going back to New Jersey the next day. And Joe surprised her when he put an arm around her and kissed her with a tender look in his eyes. What Clarke had told him that afternoon had changed things in a subtle way. Joe was still afraid of being strangled by a commitment to her, and yet at the same time he wanted to protect her not only from the world, but from herself. He could still sense the lonely child in her, whose father had committed suicide. No matter how bright the outer trappings were, he could see in her now the bird with the broken wing she had been as a child. And in some ways, it made him love her more. She had grown strong, and she flew well, as far as the world was concerned, but within, she was still a frightened little girl. Just as he had once been a lonely little boy. They had found each other by fate, or destiny, drawn to each other for some deep reason that was perhaps meant to be from the first. He could still remember how she had dazzled him the first time they met. Maybe it had been meant to be after all.

“You sure got my father drunk today,” she laughed as they walked down the beach hand in hand.

“We had a good time.”

“That's nice.” Listening to her, he wondered if she'd turn into her mother one day. And if she did, what it would be like for him. And yet, in spite of his own fears, it was hard to ignore the wisdom of Clarke's words. A lot of what he had said had touched Joe's heart.

“I think we ought to get married one of these days,” Joe said casually, and Kate stopped in her tracks and stared at him in surprise.

“Are you still drunk?” She wasn't sure if he was serious or not.

“Probably. But why not, Kate? It might work out fine.” He didn't sound totally convinced, but for the first time in thirty-five years, he was willing to give it a try.

“What made you decide that? Did my father put the heat on you today?”

“No. He told me I'd lose you one of these days, if I don't get smart. And maybe he's right.”

“You're not going to lose me, Joe,” she said softly as they sat down on the sand, and he pulled her close to him. “I love you too much. You don't have to marry me.” She almost felt sorry for him. She had come to understand how much his freedom meant to him.

“Maybe I want to marry you. How would that be?”

“Wonderful,” she said, smiling at him, and he had never loved her more. “Very, very wonderful. Are you sure?” She was stunned. It had finally come.

“Sure enough,” he said honestly. Clarke had made a lot of sense. He saw something in them that Joe saw too, when he was brave enough to look. A love that was both powerful and infinitely rare. “I don't think we should rush into it or anything,” he said cautiously “Maybe in six months or a year or so. I need time to get used to the idea. Why don't we keep it to ourselves for now.”

“That's fine,” she said quietly. They sat together without saying anything for a while, and then they walked back to the house hand in hand.

12

THEY WENT BACK TO New Jersey to work side by side, and things changed subtly between them as soon as they decided to get married. Kate seemed to feel more confident and more secure, and Joe liked the idea for a while. They talked about plans they were going to make, the house they were going to buy, where to go on their honeymoon. But after several conversations, Joe started to look irritated when she talked about it. It was a nice idea, but too much of a good thing made him nervous.

He didn't have time to think about getting married. They were talking about building a second factory, and his business was exploding into new levels, and to new heights almost every day. By the fall, marriage was the last thing on his mind.

Things there were busier than ever for both of them. So much so that they didn't go to Boston for Thanksgiving, but managed to spend a week with her parents between Christmas and New Year's. By then her mother was so upset about their not being engaged that no one dared to mention marriage anymore. It had become far too sensitive a subject. But Kate was also beginning to realize that as long as she lived with him, there was no particular rush for them to get married. Joe had so much on his plate that she didn't want to press him about their plans. He was just too busy. And too frightened by the commitment he'd made. She could sense it: As soon as he'd proposed to her, he started to back away.

Kate didn't say anything about it until spring, it was 1947 by then, and she was beginning to wonder if he really did want to get married. She mentioned it once or twice, and he was always too preoccupied to discuss it with her. She had just turned twenty-four, and Joe was thirty-six, and the most important man in aviation. The business he had helped start a year and a half before had turned into a gold mine. He took her father up in one of his newest planes when he came to visit them. She was still keeping up the myth that she was staying at the hotel, and her father was discreet enough not to press them about it, but he was worried about her. And Joe seemed to be spending all his time either in meetings or in the air. He had given her a real job by then, she was handling PR for him, and earning a sizable salary. But it wasn't money she needed, the Jamisons had more than enough for her. As far as they were concerned, she needed a husband. Clarke was certain by then that his conversation with Joe the summer before had fallen on deaf ears, and Liz was pressing Kate to come back to Boston to live with them. By summer, Joe had not said a word about their getting married in months.