Smitty climbed the stairs to Kathryn’s apartment and wondered what awaited him upstairs. He wasn’t accustomed to running afoul of her, but ever since Jenny Ryan entered their lives, it had happened far too often for his comfort. Kathryn’s personal happiness was important, but it was only a matter of time before it affected her professional life, and that was unacceptable, for obvious reasons.
“Jenny Ryan,” he groused under his breath as he got to the landing.
What was the kid thinking? Did she really think she could come between them? Smitty shook his head at the notion. That would never happen. They had shared things Jenny couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Kathryn had been angry, that much was certain, but she was not an unreasonable woman. Surely she had to know he was only looking after her best interests? Of course she would. In the light of a new day, everything would be forgiven. Just like always.
He was expected, so he wrapped out his customary knock on the door and let himself in. “Hi ya, doll,” he said cheerfully.
“Good morning, Smitty,” Kathryn offered indifferently as she exited her bedroom and headed to the kitchen.
So much for being forgiven. There was no hi, handsome, no kiss on the cheek, just a dismissive Good—
“Good morning, Smitty,” Jenny parroted, as she came out of Kathryn’s bedroom buttoning one of Kathryn’s crisp white shirts over her skirt.
He glanced at Kathryn’s back and then to the smiling blonde and ground out a slightly off-balance, “Morning.”
He didn’t know why he was surprised to see Jenny. He should have known something screwy was going on when Kathryn ditched his tail the night before. He knew she had a gig with Tommy Wallace in the city, but he hadn’t considered that she would dodge his protection, so he didn’t ask where, expecting just to follow her. He would not make that mistake again.
“What, do you keep him in the cellar, Kat?” Jenny said with a smile.
“There’s an idea,” Kathryn said, as she deposited her cup in the sink.
Smitty took off his hat and tossed it on the kitchen table and glared at her. Jenny noticed something was amiss and looked to Kathryn, who tried to pass it off as nothing, as she offered a smile on her way to the bathroom to brush her teeth.
“Are you still in the doghouse, Smitty?” Jenny whispered.
“Like you didn’t know I would be,” he said sternly.
“What?”
He moved in menacingly close. “Why did you tell her I told you about overseas?”
“Because you did, and I’m not going to lie to her.”
He didn’t like the accusation. “Oh, and I do?”
“Did you?”
She had him there, which made him angry. “Do not play games of manipulation with me. You will not win.”
Jenny was undeterred by his threat and mustered her own menacing glare. “Kathryn is not a game to me.”
Kathryn came out of the bathroom rolling down her sleeve. “Problem?”
Jenny looked to Smitty and tilted her head, letting him decide how it was going to be.
“No problem,” he said curtly.
“Good,” Kathryn said, absorbing the obvious lie as she passed.
Smitty offered a parting glare to Jenny before following his partner into the kitchen. “Rumor has it Forrester is coming back to town this week,” he said casually, knowing the news would shake Jenny from her high horse.
Kathryn appeared unfazed as she emptied the filter cup from the coffeepot and replied with a bored, “Okay.”
Smitty knew she was upset about it because she wiped an already clean counter with the dishrag until she had gathered herself sufficiently and then turned. When she finally looked at Jenny, her tight mouth and creased brow gave her away.
The phone rang, breaking the tense silence, and three sets of eyes snapped to the black unit on the small corner table next to the refrigerator. Taking note of the present company, they all knew it could only be one person. Kathryn dragged the phone and its long cord into the living room.
“Hello,” she cooed sweetly into the handset.
Smitty and Jenny cast glances at each other and then stared vaguely at their feet as they listened to Kathryn’s side of the conversation in the other room. “Oh, Marc, that’s wonderful,” they heard her say.
Jenny wasn’t interested in enduring Smitty’s triumphant smirk, one she was sure was there without looking, so she left the kitchen and headed down the short hallway to the bedroom. She glanced at Kathryn on the couch in the living room as she passed.
“Yes, darling,” Kathryn said into the phone as she tucked her long legs under her while leaning on the sofa’s oversized arm.
Jenny watched with amazement as Kathryn transformed into a pining mistress before her eyes. With a voice sickeningly sweet and her body language vulnerable, she cradled the handset like it was a lifeline to the man on the other end and she would drown without him.
Jenny sensed Smitty staring at her from the kitchen archway, and she gave him what she knew he wouldn’t expect—a smile, as if she were proud of Kathryn’s skilled acting. She continued toward the bedroom to gather her things, surprised that she didn’t find the triumphant smirk on his face that she’d expected. Instead, she found solemn compassion and sympathy.
She circled Kathryn’s room, looking for a wayward earring, and tried to put Kathryn’s submissive image out of her mind. She found the earring behind a bottle of perfume on the vanity, where she had tossed it in a fit of frustration, along with its mate, the evening before. How quickly frustration had turned into the most beautiful night of her life, and how quickly the morning was stealing it away. She looked at her annoyed reflection in the mirror as she listened to the rise and fall of Kathryn’s soothing voice luring Forrester into a false sense of dependency.
Jenny scolded herself for being annoyed, as Kathryn’s forewarning of “Can you handle the business end of my life?” suddenly filled the room, making it hard to breathe. She promised she could, and now it was time to make good. She sat on the edge of the bed, the bed where they made love until the early morning hours, the bed where they held each other, shared their tears, bared their souls, the bed they made just an hour ago with full hearts and affectionate glances as they bathed in the peaceful serenity of their intimate sanctuary.
She closed her eyes and tried to harness the memory—something, anything—to give her the strength she’d need to show Kathryn she was up to the challenges they would have to face. If Kathryn felt half the sense of loss and anger she was feeling at the moment, she would need her to be strong, and that’s what she swore she’d be. For Kathryn. For Love.
She didn’t hear Kathryn hang up the phone, nor did she hear the floor creak as she stood in the doorway, silently watching, but when she opened her eyes, there she was. Jenny stood up, pretending to look for something. “I lost my earring,” she said unconvincingly as she held it up. She was doing the best she could, but Kathryn saw through it.
Kathryn shut the door and crossed the room, gathering her into her arms. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t do that,” Jenny said. “Don’t apologize. I’m okay.” She backed off their embrace and clipped her earrings on, trying to be strong and understanding. “When?”
“Tonight. He’s picking me up at the club after the show.”
Jenny silently cursed the bastard. Disappointment made her movements stiff and abrupt. She scanned the room again to distract herself. “Where the hell’s my watch?”
Kathryn picked it up from the nightstand, but instead of handing it over, she took her in her arms. “I’m disappointed too, honey. You don’t have to play it tough.”
Jenny melted into Kathryn’s chest, exhaling her disappointment. “Now that I’ve got you, I don’t want to let you go.”
“I know the feeling.”
They stood in the middle of the room, lost in the sway of their embrace, enjoying a moment removed from the unrelenting march of time.
The unrelenting march of time made itself known in the form of Jenny’s incessantly ticking wristwatch in Kathryn’s hand.
“I’ve got to go,” Jenny mumbled into Kathryn’s shirt collar.
Kathryn nodded regretfully and pulled back. She cupped Jenny’s face and gazed deeply into her eyes. “I need to see you this afternoon. Will you take a late lunch? I know a place we can go.”
“You just tell me where and when.”
After a self-conscious goodbye under Smitty’s watchful eye, Kathryn gently shut the front door and then moved to the apartment window to watch Jenny step onto the sidewalk and cross the street. Never had she imagined she could be so consumed with another human being, by another human being. Just a few short hours were all they shared, but in those hours, she had found more honesty and more emotional truth within herself than ever before. She was overwhelmed, reduced to tears more than once, and positively dumbfounded by the ease with which her soul entrusted its care to another.
Through it all, Jenny never faltered, never shied away from the raw display of pent-up emotion and relief that came with the dissolution of her carefully crafted defenses. Jenny seemed to thrive on it, to grow stronger, more confident. Kathryn had been freed by Jenny’s compassion and sated by her desire. Love was nothing like she’d imagined. Her fear of feeling exposed and vulnerable proved unfounded, as she felt protected in Jenny’s arms—safe, as promised.
She continued to gaze out the window until Jenny disappeared from sight, and she realized that nothing had really changed. Her guilt still lurked just below the surface, and her past still shaped her future, perhaps even condemned it. But somehow things were different. She was different. Braver. Stronger. Hopeful. Loved.
She heard Smitty move behind her and her mood quickly shifted, as she was brought back to the present and what lay ahead. She turned to face him with fury in her eyes. “You didn’t have to say that in front of her.”
Smitty held out his hands as if clueless. “What?”
“That Forrester was coming back to town.”
“Well,” Smitty said indignantly, “she’d better get used to it. You’ve got a job to do.”
“She doesn’t need to be reminded of my job, and neither do I.”
“Kat—”
“Couldn’t you give us just one fucking morning to be happy?” she shouted, eyes gone grey in anger. “Is that too much to ask?”
Smitty balked at her intensity, and the curse, which she knew he could count on one hand the number of times he’d heard come out of her mouth since he’d known her. She regretted that her outburst revealed how serious things had become with Jenny.
“I’m sorry, Kat, but she’d have to know sooner or later.”
“She certainly didn’t need to hear it from you.”
Kathryn would have spared Jenny the news until after their midday rendezvous, hoping to spend as much unspoiled time as possible with her before they had to face the reality of their responsibilities. Their time together was always precious—with a war raging, everyone’s was—but never before had she felt the pressure more acutely than when she watched Jenny walk away from her, taking with her the fragile calm before the storm.
“Don’t shoot the messenger,” Smitty argued in his defense.
Kathryn collected her things and headed out the door. “Don’t give me any ideas.”
“Okay,” Smitty began, unable to stand the silence any longer as they rode to the training center on Long Island, “I made that crack about Forrester out of spite.”
Kathryn was unimpressed by the confession.
“I did it to knock her off her high horse, not to hurt you.”
Why he thought that would appease her, she had no idea, but he was digging a hole he’d never get out of.
“I just didn’t realize—”
“Now you do,” she interrupted sharply.
Disparaging remarks about Jenny and lectures about the pitfalls of their relationship were unnecessary and beyond repetitious. Did he think her so fickle or incompetent? She could handle Forrester blindfolded—a look here, a touch there, a tender word, a well-timed tear. He was putty in her hands. Loving Jenny wouldn’t change that. One thing had nothing whatsoever to do with the other.
His lack of faith in her stung, and his jealousy was pointless. They were professionals in a dangerous business. She didn’t have the energy or the inclination to entertain his sophomoric indulgences or his doubts.
To hell with his misgivings. And for the moment, to hell with him.
Kathryn sat in Colonel Forsythe’s office for a one-on-one conversation about her request for field training.
“I’ve looked over your request, Kathryn,” Colonel Forsythe said gently, flicking the corner of the folder under his hand with his forefinger.
She straightened in her chair as the contemplative flicking stopped and he took a final look through her file and then closed it.
“What makes you think you’re ready for this?”
“I can do this. I can.”
He stared at her, waiting for a better explanation.
“I’ve been in the field and I know how to impart that knowledge to others. We’re always shorthanded on agents in the specialty ops, and I know my experience is valuable.” She could see she wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know. He wanted something deeper, more personal. She appreciated his position and gave him what he wanted. “The nightmares have stopped, and I haven’t had a flashback in—” She glossed over her recent breakdown with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I don’t know how long, and I’m ready. I’m not going to fall apart, I’m not going to screw up, and I’m not going to risk the safety of those kids on some reckless scheme that—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” the colonel interrupted as he held up his hands. “I’m not asking you to defend yourself, Kathryn. I know you’re ready. I want to know why you think you’re ready.”
She paused, sorting out her answer. “I’ve been away too long. Hiding. It’s about time I pulled my weight again. I owe them that.”
Colonel Forsythe smiled sympathetically but disagreed. “You haven’t been hiding, you’ve been healing. You do more than your part, and you don’t owe those boys anything. You did nothing wrong.”
“I didn’t die. That’s what I did wrong.”
He was silent for a moment and turned his focus to the file under his folded hands. “That’s a tough call, Kathryn.”
“Yes, sir, it is.”
She appreciated the fact that he didn’t have a blanket denial for her statement. He could be counted on to deal with the reality of any particular situation. She failed at her first responsibility on that fateful mission, and it cost those boys their lives. No one could dispute that.
“Moving on.” He opened the folder in his hands again, but Kathryn sensed he really wasn’t looking at it.
“We realize you’ve had idle time in the past,” he said, “and while it’s true Forrester has been conducting most of his activities elsewhere of late, we feel your plate is full at the moment, so I’m denying you active field training.”
Kathryn took the blow in silence and turned her focus to the corner of the large oak desk, as her bitter disappointment smoldered like the cigarette butt in the ashtray.
“Understand, your abilities are not being questioned here. It’s a matter of priority. We’ll review your request again when your current assignment has reached an end.”
“The war could be over by then,” Kathryn complained, suddenly faced with the realization that she may never see action again, which meant no opportunity to exorcise her guilt.
Colonel Forsythe looked up, understandably confounded by her complaint. “Then so be it, and amen.”
Kathryn realized how absurd her protest must have sounded and mutely nodded as she looked down and wondered where she got that smudge of dirt on her knee.
“You’re very important to us, Kathryn,” the colonel said, “and you’re doing exceptional work with Forrester. You should be proud of your service.”
She resisted, releasing a disgruntled chuckle as she brushed off her slacks.
“That being said,” Forsythe continued, turning his attention to the open file in his hands, “you are an experienced operative, and as you’ve pointed out, that’s a precious commodity around here.”
She raised her eyes, a slow, hopeful smile forming on her lips.
“We’d like to have you sit in on some specialty training with our next class. There will be two instructors to take care of the bulk of their preparation. It won’t require a lot of time on your part. Impart your experience, that sort of thing. You know the routine.” He paused as he closed the folder. “Situation permitting, of course. Forrester is still your number one priority.”
“Of course.” Kathryn did her best to suppress a grin.
He slid the folder across his desk in her direction. “Here is the proposed team. They’re heading to the Farm in D.C. for basic, but we expect them to make quick work of that.”
She reached out and pulled the folder to her. “Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t thank me yet, and don’t get excited by the eighth name on the list.”
She opened the folder and quickly scanned the first page. Number eight: Jenny Ryan. She knew her breathing caught, and she did her best to mask her rising panic as she handed out a levelheaded protest. “You promised to keep her out of this.”
“I told you I wouldn’t get her into anything she wasn’t ready for. I also told you I would oversee her training. She was slated for Branson’s team upon her return, but when you put in, I thought you might like to evaluate her. I know I can count on you to give a fair and unbiased assessment of her abilities.”
“How do you know she’ll pass basic?”
Forsythe leaned back in his chair and lit a cigarette. “Do you think she’ll wash out?”
She gathered herself quickly. It wouldn’t be wise to be so transparent about her feelings for her new student. “No, sir. I’m sure she’ll do a fine job.”
He grinned proudly and tossed his spent match into the ashtray. “Our thoughts exactly. She’s a very creative young woman. We’d like to see how that translates into spur-of-the-moment decisions.”
Kathryn held her tongue. She had been the recipient of many of Jenny’s spur-of-the-moment decisions and knew she was quick on her feet, which didn’t bode well for keeping her out of harm’s way.
“We have no specific plans to utilize her in the field right now. We just want to see what she’s capable of.”
“Of course. I understand.” It was the beginning of a path to danger that would not end until the agent was dead or the war was over.
“Her instructions are in the folder. I thought you might like to deliver the news to her.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.”
“Thank you, Kathryn.” He extended his hand. “Welcome back.”
“Good to be back, sir.” She grasped his hand firmly and smiled, not sure she meant it anymore.