Oath Of Honor

Chapter Eleven

Evyn shoved her hands in the pockets of her trench coat, hunched her shoulders against the wind, and hurried around the Ellipse to where she’d parked her car. That morning she’d been running late and grabbed the closest street spot she could find, but it felt like a mile now. A light snow had begun to fall, and she brushed the loose powder from her windshield with the sleeve of her coat. Snowflakes melted on her face and neck. She swore she could feel icy snowmelt trickling down her back, although she didn’t actually think it was snowing hard enough for that to be happening. Shivering, she jumped into the front seat, started the engine, and turned the heat on high. Cold air blasted in her face, and she lunged to redirect the vents away from the driver’s seat. The windows frosted over more with every exhalation, and a cloud of steam rolled up around the outside of the windows to envelop her, making her feel as if she might step out of the car and find herself in another world somewhere. Not that far a stretch—seeing as how this world certainly seemed turned upside down in the last forty-eight hours. She’d spent more alone time with Wes Masters than she’d spent with any woman, other than fellow agents, in the last year. She’d spent even more time thinking about her—like right now—than any of the women she’d slept with. Evyn flicked melting snow from her hair and considered going back inside to look for Wes—the storm was picking up and Wes didn’t have a car. How would she get back—damn, she was doing it again, behaving like a player in someone else’s life.

Captain Wes Masters did not need rescuing—and she was nobody’s savior.

Uncomfortable with her own discomfort, Evyn pulled her cell phone out and punched the icon for contacts. She flicked a fingertip over the screen, scrolling through the list, surprised at the number of names she could no longer put with faces and how many more there were than she’d thought. What had she been doing the last eight years? She could name every one of her postings and list each of her on-the-job accomplishments, but she could barely remember half the women she had known at least well enough to get a phone number.

On the verge of closing the phone to escape any more forced retrospection, she spied a name she did recognize. She even knew her address. Quickly, before she could subject herself to the third degree as to exactly what she was doing, she highlighted the number and pressed Send. Pulling her coat even closer around herself as the heater warred with Mother Nature, she waited.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Louise? This is Evyn Daniels.”

A second’s pause made Evyn’s stomach drop. Then, “Evyn? God, it’s been what, a year?”

Evyn felt her face heat in the cold car. “Maybe not that long,” she said quickly. “I’ve been traveling a lot. Out of town on business. I’m sorry I didn’t—”

“Hey, that’s no problem. I’ve been really busy myself. I landed a spot in one of the repertory theaters here in DC and I’ve been working steadily.”

Evyn searched her memory for some hint of what Louise had told her about her acting career, but all she could remember is where they’d met—a spinoff party from one of the bigger lesbian circuit events—and where they’d ended up. In bed in Louise’s apartment, urgent and sweaty and desperate for fulfillment. The night had morphed into three days, and then Evyn was back on rotation and life went on. And she’d never called, never even looked back. Until now. Feeling a bit like a jerk, she said, “I was wondering—I know it’s short notice—but about tonight. Maybe we could—”

“Tonight?” She heard soft laughter. “Have you looked out the window? This is supposed to keep up all night. My super-exciting plans for the evening are to make some hot cider, sit in front of the television with Netflix and a bowl of popcorn, and turn in early.”

“I guess I can’t persuade you to change those exciting plans?”

“You might, if the evening included dinner, but the weath—”

“I’m already out. Dinner sounds like a good place to start.” Evyn winced at her really bad come-on line. When had she gotten so shallow? She turned her wipers on and watched the thin blades bend and scrape while pushing against the half inch of heavy new snow. The snow was coming down harder now and the sidewalks were empty. Cars crawled by, their headlights dull cataracts behind a curtain of snow. In an hour, the city would be gridlocked. She ought to sack out in the down room in the OEOB instead of going anywhere. At least she’d get to work in the morning. “How about I pick you up in forty-five minutes. You pick the place.”

“I’ve got an even better idea—if you’re really going to come over here, then let’s stay in. I’ll cook.”

“Oh, that’s no fair. I don’t want you to have to work.” Hell, Louise was too nice and she was a jerk.

“I don’t mind, if you don’t mind something simple.”

“Well, sure, but—” Evyn didn’t want to drive home—not because of the storm, but because she didn’t want to face brainless TV and an uninspired frozen dinner or the warmed-up pizza she’d had three days before. So she opted for company—nothing wrong with that on the surface, or there wouldn’t have been if an evening with Louise wasn’t just a way to keep her from sitting around thinking about Wes. And that was enough to push her to say, “Yes. Okay, great. I’d like that. I’ll grab some wine—is that all right?”

“Perfect. I’ll see you soon, and be careful out there.”

“Always,” Evyn said, knowing even as the words left her mouth she was bluffing. Careful wasn’t really part of her modus operandi. She was a risk taker, the first to volunteer, the first to rise to a challenge. She wasn’t being careful around Wes Masters, and she wasn’t thinking about where she was headed. Not smart at all. Good thing she knew better than to let her private affairs bleed over into work. None of that had changed, and she didn’t intend it to. Wes Masters was off-limits and staying that way.

*

A thirty-something brunette in a crisp white shirt and sharply creased navy blue trousers walked out of the AOD’s office with a stethoscope slung around her neck and stopped when she saw Wes. Saluting, she said, “Captain, I’m First Lieutenant Jennifer Pattee, a nurse with the WHMU.”

“Lieutenant,” Wes said, returning the salute. She was in uniform, the lieutenant wasn’t, suggesting the WHMU was geared toward medicine and not military customs. She had no problem with that. “Captain Wes Masters.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The dark-haired woman smiled tentatively. “Welcome aboard, ma’am.”

“Thank you. Are you the AOD?”

“Yes, ma’am. There’s also a nurse, Major Mark Beecher, on duty. He just went to grab us some dinner.”

“Just the two of you?”

“No, ma’am. Colonel Dunbar is the MD on call—he’s backup and in the on-call suite right now.”

“Quiet down here.”

The lieutenant smiled, more widely this time. “Activity varies, ma’am. During the day, when the House is filled with visitors, staff, and legislators coming and going from the Hill, we get quite a lot of activity. In addition, there are several hundred full-time House staffers rotating around the clock, and we render medical care to all of them. Of course, during a State visit—” She broke off abruptly. “Sorry, I’m sure you know all this.”

Wes made a decision on the spot. She’d learned early in life to take lessons from everyone, anywhere she could. On the front line, rank often lost its significance. She was in command of the WHMU, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t utilize every resource possible. “Actually, no. I haven’t been read in on routine around here.”

“Well then, I’m sure Peter—Commander Chang—or Colonel Dunbar will brief you. Commander Chang is off rotation right now. He had duty at the wedding.”

“Yes, I met the commander briefly. If I’m not on-site,” Wes said, “you and the others can reach me by voice or text anytime. I just wanted to get the lay of the land tonight. I won’t be taking call for a few days yet.”

“Care for a tour, then, Captain?”

“I would.”

“This is the clinic area, obviously.” Jennifer pivoted and swept her arm to take in the hallway. “As you can see, four exam rooms, a fully stocked treatment room, and the admitting office over here.”

Wes followed the lieutenant from room to room, noting the treatment room with state-of-the-art monitors, instruments, anesthesia carts, and OR table. Enough to perform emergency surgery. “Are we approved for general anesthesia here?”

“Yes, ma’am. One person on every shift is anesthesia certified. We can handle any medical or surgical emergency that comes our way.”

After they completed the circuit of the clinic area, Jennifer took Wes to a conference room that doubled as a lounge and poured them both steaming cups of coffee from a large stainless-steel urn.

“Thanks.” Wes pulled out a chair at the long wooden table and Jennifer sat opposite her. “What’s the protocol for evacuation?”

“If we needed to transport the president, Marine One would fly him to Bethesda. We also use George Washington and Howard.”

“I want to review the protocols for medical and surgical emergencies. Are they available on a hard drive?”

“On the computer in Dr. O’Shaughnessy’s—sorry, in your office.”

Wes nodded. “I haven’t had the official tour—is that down here too?”

“No.” Jennifer colored. “Sorry. That’s in the West Wing.”

“Then I’ll find it tomorrow.”

Wes rose, disposed of her coffee cup, and picked up her coat. “I appreciate the introduction. How do I reach everyone to schedule a meeting?”

“All of our pagers, phone numbers, and addresses will be in your office. If there’s anything you need, I’d be happy to help you.”

“I appreciate that, Lieutenant. I’m sure you have more important duties.”

“The unit is my duty, ma’am. I’m happy to help.”

“Thanks.”

Jennifer held her gaze, her dark eyes warmer than they had been earlier. “My pleasure, ma’am.”

“Well,” Wes said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jennifer saluted.

Wes returned the salute. “We can dispense with the formalities among ourselves, Lieutenant.”

“Very good. Good night, Captain.”

“Good night.”

Wes followed the course she had taken with Evyn back to the exit. The night was dark, cold, and snowy. Buttoning her overcoat, she wondered briefly if Evyn was somewhere cursing the stormy weather. Wes didn’t mind the snow—especially as it was falling. The pristine coating of white made the world look somehow innocent and hopeful, as if every possibility existed just around the corner. She walked toward Pennsylvania Avenue to find a cab, snowflakes melting on her face. An unfamiliar ache centered in her chest, different from the occasional bouts of restless uncertainty she usually shrugged off with work or a workout. Tonight the storm’s beauty stirred a surge of melancholy, a wish for something she couldn’t define. Uncertainty was a strange and disquieting sensation. She’d always been able to see exactly what the future held for her. She waved a cab down and jogged toward the idling vehicle, determined to throw off the odd mood.

Once inside, she gave him her hotel address and checked her phone. One message.

“Hey, Wes. It’s Emory. Are you in DC? Call me.”

Wes braced her feet as the cab slid around a corner, and punched in Emory’s number. “Hello, Em? It’s Wes.”

“Hey. Where are you?”

“Right now, in a cab headed to my hotel in DC.”

“You got there just in time for the storm.” Emory laughed. “Listen, Dana is there now on assignment and I’m coming down soon. Let’s get together.”

“I’m not sure what my schedule is yet—”

“Aren’t you the boss? Make sure you’re off.”

Wes laughed. “I think that might be a title in name only. Apparently, I have some on-the-job training to do first.”

“Really? What’s that about?”

“Just routine stuff.”

“Huh, top-secret stuff, right?” Emory laughed again.

“You got it.”

“Well, I want to see you. It’s been way too long.” A moment of silence, then, “I realized the other day how much I’ve missed you.”

Wes’s throat tightened. “Me too. I’ll do my best to make it happen.”

“I’ll text you the when and where, when I confirm with Dana. I thought we’d do dinner and try this great jazz club I read about. Bring a date if—”

“If you don’t mind a third wheel, I think I’ll be stag.”

“Dana knows quite a few single women in DC.”

“Uh, no. I’m fine.”

Emory sighed. “You’re sure?”

“Very.”

“Let me know if you change your mind. It’s never too late for a little romance.”

“For now I’ve got all I can handle with this new assignment. But I’ll do my best to see you when you’re here.”

“Make it so, Captain Masters. See you soon.”

“’Bye, Em.”

Wes slid her phone back into her pocket and turned to watch the storm outside. The streets held only cabs and official-looking government vehicles—black stretch limos, SUVs, and Town Cars bearing emblems and flags of various embassies. She thought about what Emory had said about Dana. Emory had found love, but as much as she and Emory had shared, they were fundamentally different. Emory was brilliant—brilliant and driven—but she also came from an old, privileged family in Newport, Rhode Island. While Wes had been scrabbling for scholarships, Emory had already been part of the social and political world she would eventually join. Wes didn’t begrudge her a single thing—Emory had earned all her acclaim. But her outlook was far more optimistic than Wes’s had ever been.

Emory was wrong this time—sometimes it was too late for some things. Wes had never regretted the choices she’d made or the direction her life had taken. She still didn’t. She just wished she could shake the constant sense that something was missing. She knew that wasn’t true.

*

“This was fabulous,” Evyn said, carrying her plate and an armful of dishes into Louise’s small but expensively appointed kitchen. “I can’t imagine what you’d come up with when you actually have time to plan a meal. Thanks again.”

Louise stacked the dishes on top of the dishwasher, rinsed her hands, and dried them on a bright red towel. She turned, her hips against the counter, and grasped Evyn’s hand, pulling her forward until they were toe to toe, their bodies nearly brushing. “You’ll have to come by again when I can really do it up.”

Evyn’s skin tingled from the heat of Louise’s body so close to her own. She watched Louise’s mouth move as she spoke, captivated by the moist, lush surface of her lips. Her lips were full and red and, as she recalled, very kissable. She raised her gaze and saw that Louise had been watching her, probably reading her mind. She grinned and Louise’s smile widened.

Louise was attractive—shoulder-length pale blond hair, straight and perfectly styled, unlike Wes’s windblown canvas of golden browns and summer highlights. Louise’s eyes were mahogany, completely different than the intense green of Wes’s. They looked nothing alike—Louise was sultry and sensuous, Wes was intensely sexual, physically commanding. And why was she thinking about Wes when another woman was sending her come-and-get-it signals?

She wasn’t just off her game, she was completely without one. True, she hadn’t really thought about any kind of date in weeks, maybe a few months, but it’s not something you would forget. Bicycle riding and all that. She kissed Louise softly. “If that’s an invitation to return, I accept.”

“Good. But you’re not leaving just yet.” Louise tugged Evyn’s shirt free from her pants and slid her hand underneath to skate her fingers over Evyn’s belly.

Evyn’s muscles contracted into a tight knot beneath the teasing caress. Her breath caught. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, a voice warned her off, but she ignored it. She was single, after all, and this was what she knew. Louise scratched her nails rhythmically up and down the center of Evyn’s abs and then dipped her fingers beneath the waistband of Evyn’s pants. Evyn gripped the edge of the counter, her thighs trembling, and kissed her again.

After all, why not?