Guarding Hearts

by Jaycie Morrison

  Rains had come over to help with the yard as promised and had seemed to enjoy the work. She willingly took on the hardest tasks, and they’d talked easily about the different plants and Whit’s ideas about what she might do in the spring. Rains had volunteered to help again anytime Whit might need her. But Kat, who never had any particular interest in being outdoors before, had fluttered and flitted around them until Whit had handed her a pair of clippers. At that she’d laughed and gone back inside, where she’d made some stew and a salad for their lunch, practically glowing over Rains’s appreciative remarks. Afterward, when Rains was chopping up some fallen logs for firewood, Whit had seen Kathleen watching from their dining room window with a strangely contemplative expression on her face. Overall, her lover had begun to seem distracted and distant in a way she hadn’t been since the trouble had started in Florida, which was why Whit needed to clear her mind and make sure she was reading the signs right.

  She and Kathleen had entered basic training at the same time, but at different bases, so their paths didn’t cross until several weeks after graduation, when Kathleen was transferred to Florida. Whit was attending a house party with a date. At this point she couldn’t even remember the other woman’s name. They’d never been serious about each other; rather, they were both looking for an opportunity to cut loose a bit now that the rigors of basic training were over. When she’d caught sight of the striking lieutenant across the room, Whit remembered her immediately from the awards banquet she’d attended in Chicago with her father. Kathleen Hartley. Who’d have thought she’d join the service? When the woman in question looked her way, Whit nodded, but Kathleen looked away immediately. She clearly didn’t remember that they’d met, but Whit couldn’t help smiling at her each time they were in the same vicinity. Whit felt a little guilty, though she’d been careful not to neglect her date—making sure she had a drink and dancing when she wanted. But in her mind’s eye, she couldn’t lose the image of lustrous auburn hair and striking green eyes. When her date joined the line for the restroom, Whit tried to find Hartley, but had lost track of her. She’d asked three other women if they knew where that redheaded lieutenant was, but no one did. Passing back by, she saw her date was next for the toilet, and the woman who walked out ahead of her was Kathleen. Whit smiled again and Hartley walked right up to her.

  “Do I know you?” she asked, sounding more than a little annoyed.

  “Not as well as you’re going to,” Whit answered, hoping that Hartley was someone who would enjoy a little flirting. Luckily, she was.

  She’d refreshed Kathleen’s memory of their previous encounter, and her demeanor warmed considerably. They’d exchanged information and had several fun dates before things moved to the next level. Once they did, Whit hadn’t wanted to look anywhere else, although they didn’t speak of exclusivity for several more months. Kathleen Hartley was classy and interesting and beautiful. She seemed to enjoy that Whit wanted to hold the door for her and she never once suggested, as one of Whit’s former girlfriends had, that she try to “femme up a little” during the work week. In spite of her upper-class background, Kathleen respected that Whit’s dad was a cop and she seemed to appreciate Whit’s skill as a medic. She’d loved the story of how Whit’s interest in the profession had begun with a high school crush on a young school nurse. Whit told her how her father had thought she might follow in his footsteps by becoming an MP, but one look at the captain in charge of the medical corps and Whit’s mind had been made up. “So this really is a case of you loving your job,” Kathleen had teased, causing Whit to blush slightly.

  In Florida, it was easy to take a girl out without spending a lot of money. Walking on the beach was free, and there were several cheap places to eat close to the base. Kathleen had insisted they go Dutch the first time, but after that, Whit wouldn’t let her pay. Their first kiss was under the stars with their bare feet in the sand and the waves rolling in nearby. It wasn’t particularly soft or delicate, as many first-time kisses are. Whit might have gone that way, but Kathleen’s mouth had pressed against hers, demanding and needy at the same time, and when they’d finally pulled apart, Whit asked, “Where’d you learn to kiss like that?”

  Kathleen had laughed and leaned in to nip at her neck before she’d answered, “In the Army.”

  Their first time in bed, however, had been less than spectacular. Kathleen hadn’t told her she’d made a reservation (and paid for) a room at a nice hotel several miles from the base. When Whit figured out what was going on, she almost came merely by envisioning getting Kathleen naked on a big swanky bed. But Kathleen had been very nervous, even wearing a long nightgown at first, and Whit quickly realized that beyond the kissing stage, she’d had very little experience with women, and apparently her encounters with men had been less than positive as well. Whit was grateful for her anatomy classes and for her more serious relationship with the woman physician she still saw occasionally. The doctor, whose name was Rachel Milligan, had taught her way more than the medical corps about certain aspects of the female body—and the female mind. “Thoughts can create real physical changes in your body, and you can use this to your advantage,” Rachel had told her once when they’d been playing doctor with their true roles reversed.

  “I’m sorry,” Kathleen had said when Whit had first touched her and found her tight and dry. “I’ve never responded well in these intimate settings. I want to, but then I freeze up.”

  “Everyone has a trigger, Kat. We just have to find yours.”

  Kathleen had looked away, biting her lip. “Do you really think so?” She sounded close to tears.

  “You can trust me,” Whit said, bringing Kat’s face back to hers and kissing her softly. “I’m an Army medic.”

  It took a few tries, but they figured it out. Once they’d been together enough times that Kathleen could be completely honest with Whit, she’d admitted getting most excited when imagining other people in intimate situations. “Like two women having sex?” Whit had asked, already a little excited herself. Kat had nodded, clearly embarrassed. “Especially if there’s a chance they might get caught,” she murmured. Fuck yeah, Whit thought, before launching into a completely fabricated story about an attractive young recruit who’d stopped by the office because she wanted to see what the inside of an ambulance looked like. “Did you show her?” Kat was already squirming slightly on the bed, but Whit deliberately didn’t touch her yet. She could already tell how this seduction would need to go.

  And sure enough, once she’d understood that conservative, proper Lieutenant Hartley only needed permission to become aroused by simply hearing about particular individuals and / or envisioning behaviors in which she would never actual physically participate but obviously enjoyed imagining, Kat had come alive in her arms. Sometimes they would share their fantasies; other times, they wouldn’t say a word. “All I ask,” Whit had told her, “is that you’re aware of exactly who you’re with when you come. You don’t have to call my name, but I want to know that you know.” Kat had done that for her, with a look or nails down her back or a hand through her hair, and it had been more than good. They’d had almost a year of sneaking time in one of their rooms in the officers’ quarters, or finding motels that didn’t ask any questions, before they were able to get into one of the off-base apartments.

  Whit had expected things between them would really get going then, but after only a few months, the announcement had come about the base closing and everyone being transferred. Kat had become preoccupied and withdrawn, and their erotic evenings had dwindled and then all but stopped. Whit took an early lunch one day and stopped midway through the food line to watch as a slightly older man, Captain Griggs, who had been brought on to help with the transition, was very clearly hitting on Kat. His outstretched hand on the table was barely an inch from touching hers and his eyes drifted back and forth from her face to her bustline as he spoke.

  That someone else found Kathleen Hartley attractive was not unusual. What was different, th
ough, was Kat’s reaction. She was leaning toward him, smiling with her head tilted and lips parted slightly, very clearly interested…or giving a damn good impression of being interested. Whit couldn’t help wondering if this was the cause of Kat’s recent indifference. She was concerned her lover wasn’t doing anything to discourage this advance and even more distraught at the idea that Kat seemed interested in trying out her now-familiar sexual ease with a man.

  That evening they’d had a terrible fight, and Whit had made it clear she’d have nothing else to say until Kathleen saw the error of her ways. They’d both slept—or pretended to sleep—rigidly on their own sides of the bed, careful not to touch. They spent their time in the apartment in different rooms, the stillness between them growing. When she saw Captain Griggs walking with Kat across the base that third morning, Whit returned to the medical office and called Rachel Milligan. She knew it was wrong, using Rachel that way, but by that time she just wanted Kat to hurt the way she was hurting. She and Rachel scheduled a date.

  As evening fell, Whit wrote a note for Kathleen on her dressing table, telling her not to expect her back at home that night. She knew she sounded childishly angry, but it was the only way she could disguise her deep hurt over the probable futility of the gesture. Her only comfort was that, unlike a rejected housewife, at least the Army would give her someplace else to go if…or when…Kat decided to have a go of it with Griggs. Sometimes the Army was a pain in the ass, but right then its presence was something dependable, unlike the woman she’d thought of as the love of her life, and she was grateful. She’d been finishing her hair, almost ready to leave, when Kat came into the bedroom. Whit had been more than surprised when Kathleen looked up from reading her note and broke their silence, asking, “Where are you going?”

  “Out.”

  Kathleen’s eyes narrowed. “With whom?”

  “What do you care?” Whit spat, trying to move past her.

  Kat’s hand grazed her shoulder with unexpected gentleness. “Please wait, Vic. Can we talk for a moment?” Blushing slightly, she gestured toward the bed.

  Realizing there wasn’t anywhere else for both of them to sit, Whit swallowed hard, both moved and annoyed at Kat’s use of her pet name. She shrugged, hoping it looked unconcerned. “Sure.”

  Kat had talked without stopping for almost fifteen minutes—expressing her admiration for Griggs’s gentlemanly ways and explaining how his age put her in mind of early memories of her father. When she tried to justify not rejecting his attraction to her by saying he could well have been her husband, Whit’s fists clenched.

  “You don’t have a husband. Only an ex-husband,” she growled.

  Kat stiffened. “Yes, I know. Being with Griggs is…familiar. Safe. That’s all I’m trying to say.”

  “And I’m not? After all this time?”

  “No, I mean—yes, of course you are. I meant…familiar like my world used to be. Before the war, before the Army.” Kathleen’s voice sounded strained, like she was desperate to make her point. “When I knew…or thought I knew…what to expect out of life.”

  Whit wasn’t having any of it. “So this fucking around you’re doing is all about nostalgia?”

  Kathleen lowered her head, clasping her hands on her lap. “I’m not fucking around, Whit. I’m simply spending some time with someone who gives me a sense of security. Someone who reminds me of when life was simpler.”

  “At the cost of your relationship with me? Someone who had planned to be there whether things were simple or not.”

  Kathleen looked up with tears in her eyes. “You say that’s true, Whit, but what will we do if we don’t get transferred to the same place? And we’ve never talked about our lives when the war is over. How is this”—she gestured between them—“ever going to work out? What will my parents say when we’re still living together in five or ten years? What would your father’s reaction be?”

  Stunned, Whit blinked. Had this all started because Kat was anxious about their upcoming transfers? And could it be true that they’d never talked about the future? Had she taken for granted that Kat knew how she felt, that she would do anything to be with her? To stay with her? Was this Griggs business about Kat going back to a man to make her life easier, or just to ensure she went someplace she wanted to be within the Army system? “You’ve already tried getting married to please your parents,” she said gently, not wanting Kat to feel defensive. “And you shouldn’t worry about our transfers. You’re great recruiting material and I’m in a high need area. The Army will take care of us, and when the war is over, we can figure it out, don’t you think?” she asked, trying to breathe normally as her heart strained to hear the answer.

  Kat sniffed against the moisture in her eyes. “Do you?”

  Her judgment was still colored by the remains of her anger. Was Kat playing coy or protecting herself? Figuring she didn’t have much to lose, she put it all on the line. “Hell yes, goddamn it. Can’t you tell? Don’t you see that’s why I’m so hurt?” She recalled Kathleen’s accusation during the height of their earlier argument. “This isn’t about me trying to control where you go and who you see. It’s about me trying to make sure we keep it good between us. I love you, Kat. I want us to be together and to stay together. Who knows what the world will be like when this is all over? Maybe so many men will get killed that no one will give two women living together a second thought.”

  Kat gaped at her, aghast for a few seconds. “You don’t—” Her voice was a whisper.

  Whit cut her off. “No, I don’t really mean that. And that’s not the point anyway. The point is, we can make it work if both of us really want to.” She stared into Kat’s eyes, willing her to agree.

  “I want to.” Her voice was subdued, but there was a firmness in the words that made Whit’s heart lift.

  She brought Kat’s hand to her lips, letting her breath warm the delicate fingers. “So do I, little Kitty. More than anything. I’m sorry if you didn’t know that.”

  “No.” Kat sounded tense. “I should have talked to you instead of letting my doubts run away with me. I do that sometimes. When I’m really afraid or unsure, I clam up. I didn’t mean to hurt the one person I care most about. I’m sorry.”

  “What about Griggs? Do you really like him?” Whit was almost whispering, trying not to betray her panic as she waited for her lover’s answer.

  Kat had lifted her chin slightly. “Captain Griggs means nothing to me. It won’t really matter to me if I never see him again. But I’ll never be happy without you.”

  Those words had been enough, even after her heart had almost broken. They’d fallen into each other’s arms and everything else had been forgotten.

  The only thing that diminished her memory of their restored passion was her guilty recollection that she’d stood Rachel Milligan up that night. She’d gone by her office the next day, knowing a phone call wasn’t nearly enough of an apology. When the doctor agreed to see her, she expected anger and accusation. Instead, there were tears in Rachel’s eyes when Whit entered the examining room, a reaction Whit had never seen her close to before, even when she’d lost a patient.

  “I’m so sorry, Rachel. I’m such a heel.”

  “And I’m being stupid,” Rachel muttered to herself as she blew her nose. “I can’t believe I thought there was a chance for us.”

  “I wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to speak to me again.”

  “That would probably be best.” She busied herself tidying the already spotless room. Then she stopped. Her back to Whit, she added, “Unless you’re here to tell me that you’re breaking it off with her.”

  “No.” Whit owed her former lover honesty and as gentle a let-down as she could manage. “We’re going to give it another shot.”

  There was a pause and Whit could see her taking deep breaths. Finally, she said, “Get out.”

  She hadn’t seen Rachel Milligan since, although she had written her a short note, telling her of her transfer to Iowa and wishing h
er well.

  Whit had chosen Fort Des Moines because of the reputation of their medical corps. Kathleen had requested the same placement, and for a while they’d fretted over whether it would happen. At one point, Whit had almost suggested Kathleen talk to her father, wondering if perhaps he could help things go their way. But it had all worked out, including finding their wonderful home, and Whit had relaxed, figuring they’d weathered their bad patch and it would be smooth sailing from here on. Kat’s position over protocol and PR had even included a promotion, and they’d had several exciting sessions of Captain Hartley issuing orders to Lieutenant Whitman. But now Kat was acting like she had when Griggs had first come into the picture—reserved and a bit cool. Why? What was different? What had changed?

  She thought back to the last party again. The only new additions were Bett Smythe and Gale Rains, but they were clearly together. Then Boudreaux’s warning echoed in her head, and she remembered the way Kathleen had acted when Rains was over doing yard work. But whenever they engaged in a fantasy featuring individuals from couples they knew, she was always the one who was involved. From that alone, it seemed Kat didn’t see herself in the role of a homewrecker, someone who would sacrifice her own relationship to interfere with a committed twosome. Perhaps she should see how her lover reacted to a fantasy involving herself and Rains. She glanced at her watch, a first-year anniversary gift from Kat. Shit. Time to go in.