CATHY STIRRED, inhaling the smell of bacon frying and the tantalizing odor of fresh coffee perking. Aware of Jim’s arm around her, she lay quietly, simply absorbing his shallow breathing, the wonderful scent of him as a man and the protective warmth of his flesh against hers.
Sunlight poured into the room, making a brilliant rectangular patch of light on the opposite wall near the slightly ajar bedroom door. A sense of happiness smothered Cathy until she thought her heart might burst from elation. Fragments of sleep dissolved slowly and she languished in those cradling moments.
Hearing a dog’s paws striking the wooden stairs, Cathy watched Champ poke his long black-and-white nose through the partially opened door and slip inside. The Border collie wagged his thick, brushlike tail, coming to rest on the rug on her side of the bed. His dark brown almond eyes regarded her solemnly and she smiled, patting the dog’s head.
“Good morning,” Cathy murmured.
She felt Jim awaken, content to allow him to draw her against him. Cathy turned over and nestled her head on his shoulder, a softened smile on her lips. Somewhere in the apple orchard, a rooster flapped and crowed in a jarring stiletto voice.
Jim groaned.
Cathy laughed huskily. “I think he wants us to get up,” she suggested, easing herself out of Jim’s embrace and sitting up beside him. Pain lanced through her thigh and she pursed her lips. As gentle as Jim had been when they made love, her leg had become mildly aggravated.
Groggily sitting up, Jim pushed the pillow up behind him. His eyes were hooded and puffy with remnants of sleep. He pulled Cathy back into his arms, holding her against him, kissing her temple. How many times had he dreamed of doing exactly this? Having her warm and soft, in his arms after a deep night’s healing sleep?
“I suppose so,” he grouched. “That damn rooster always gets right under my window to crow in the morning. All the rest of them stay around the chicken coop to do it.”
Cathy smiled, giving him a hug. “I love it.” She saw some merriment come to his eyes and a partial smile tip one corner of his mouth. She felt languid and yearning all over again for him. His mouth was strong, commanding, yet incredibly gentle and coaxing upon her own.
“You would,” Jim accused her good-naturedly. And then he became serious, studying her upturned face that glowed with an inner joy. “You slept for so long. How do you feel, babe?” Her eyes were sparkling with renewed life—and love—for him. He saw it in the way her lips parted, the way she looked at him beneath her thick lashes and her hand sliding provocatively up across his chest to his neck and jawline.
Leaning up, Cathy kissed him. “Like I’m going to live.” Her heart mushroomed with such joy she thought she might die of happiness. The look in Jim’s eyes made her realize just how much he loved her.
“Dad thought you were sick,” Jim explained as he lingered a long time against her lips. It was hell leaving her soft, sweet mouth. Unwillingly, he eased Cathy away from him and he sat up. Tossing the patchwork quilt and sheet aside, he stood up, naked before her. “I guess it never occurred to him what long days of combat can do to a person. Sleep is the only antidote.”
Cathy nodded and moved to the side of the bed and dangled her legs over the side of it, reveling in the contentment that surrounded them. She hungrily gazed at Jim. He’d lost muscle mass and tone during the coma. And yet, the strength that was inherent to him, internally, was like radiating sunshine around her. He made her feel stable. Jim pulled open a dresser drawer and tossed a pair of faded blue jeans on the bed beside her. Cathy touched them. A teasing smile lingered on her lips as she caught Jim’s warm gaze.
“Is this the dress uniform of the day?”
“That and one of my T-shirts.” He saw a rose flush come to her cheeks. How shy and how vulnerable Cathy really was. He saw her frown as she moved her injured leg. “First, how about a bath?”
She nodded eagerly. “Love one. Besides, my leg has stiffened up and I’ve got to do something to get it moving properly.” Cathy was sorry she had said anything, noticing the frown gather on his forehead. “It’s nothing. Dr. Tucker said it would be a year before I’d get full use of it again. Until then, it gets cranky when the barometric pressure starts to fall.” Cathy stood and opened her arms to Jim as he came over and embraced her. “I’ll be able to tell you when a storm is approaching.”
Jim kissed her soundly and then gave her a warm pat on her rear. “Wonderful,” he muttered, and then matched her smile. “I’m in love with a barometer. Come on, I’ll get that water ready for you.”
The cast-iron tub sat up on eagle claw brass legs and steam rose lazily into the air as Jim stood in the doorway. Cathy was in more pain than she was letting on and that bothered him. She had gone through six weeks of hell on every level, alone and without his help. Jim stilled the growing inner rage over what Mackey had done to her. Right now Cathy was the focus of his life. He picked up his worn terry-cloth robe of dark blue and placed it on the brass hook opposite the tub.
As Cathy slipped into the water, she groaned with pleasure. She had coaxed her hair into a loose topknot that refused to stay centered on her head. Long tendrils of hair curled in the steam, softening her features even more. She looked up. “Join me?” She stretched her fingers, dripping with water, toward him.
Jim crouched by the tub, caught and kissed her fingers. Taking the washcloth from her hand, he said, “Not this time.” When he saw Cathy’s disappointment, he added, “You’re in a lot of pain with that leg. Give it room to stretch out and relax.” He soaped the cloth, sliding it across her shoulders in lazy circles. “I’ll join you another time.”
“I can’t hide much from you, can I?”
“No, you never could, babe.” Jim met her green-and-gold-flecked eyes that were shining with love for him alone. “And I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
Later, Cathy sat on the vanity chair, wrapped in Jim’s robe as he took his bath. The pleasure of having Jim wash her was an unexpected surprise. She didn’t want to leave Jim, afraid that this was all a beautiful illusion that would shatter as Monday morning drew near. Jim tucked the towel around his waist and turned, bringing her into his arms. He nuzzled her ear. “God, you’re beautiful, Cathy.”
She trembled beneath Jim’s roughened tone. “I love you so much,” she said, and she pressed her lips against his. As she eased away, she looked up into his dark, hooded eyes smoldering with need of her. “I’m afraid, Jim.”
“Of what?” he asked huskily, rubbing her back and shoulders in a caressing gesture.
“That—that this is all a desperate dream I’ve made up. Come Monday morning, when I have to go back, it will shatter.” Cathy closed her eyes, holding him tightly. “I’m afraid this is a figment of my imagination. I’ve finally gone over the edge and whacked out.”
Jim held her. “It’s no dream, Cathy. I’m real and so is what we’re sharing.” His voice lowered and he cupped her cheek and tilted her chin up just enough so that he could look into her darkened eyes. The blush sweeping her cheeks made her just that more enticing to him. “And anyone put through what you have for the last month would be walking on the edge, too. What you don’t realize is how strong you’ve been. You only see your weaknesses. I see your strength.” Jim placed his hand over her heart. “It’s here. That’s your reserve, babe. You live on your emotional highs and lows. That’s the only way you know how to be. And it’s gotten you further and in better shape than it would most people I know.” Jim shook his head. “You’ve been through hell. I see it in your eyes, the lost weight. But your heart is beating strongly beneath my palm. You’re not a quitter, Cathy. You never have been and that’s just one of the many things I love about you.”
Cathy bowed her head and pressed her hand over his. “I remember when I was nine years old I went to a county fair. I always loved horses and I hung around the stalls and the racetrack. There was this terribly underfed and thin black Thoroughbred, Jim. I cried for him because he was pathetically starved and the
owner didn’t care. All he was interested in was racing and winning.
The black was up against six other horses and I’ll never forget leaning over that rail and watching him.” Cathy’s voice wobbled with tears. “He was in last place at the three-quarter pole, Jim. I watched that wonderful horse with a heart as big as a house in his thin chest rally. I watched him flatten his ears against his head and lengthen his stride. His nostrils dilated and you could see blood trickling out of them. I started crying and yelling at the jockey to stop him. But the black just kept lunging forward, overtaking first one horse and then another. I was crying so hard by the time he won the race that I couldn’t see. I wiped my eyes and I saw him stagger and I knew…”
Jim grimaced. “Did he die?”
“Yes. The track announcer said he died of a heart attack.” She looked up at him, her eyes swimming with tears. “I’ve never forgotten that thin, black horse. I cried for months afterward every time I thought of him. I saw myself in him, Jim. I was like him and I knew it.”
With a whispered endearment, Jim held her. “You were denied so much as a child growing up, Cathy. You were starved in another way. The horse had heart. He ran on it just like you run on yours.” Tenderly, he kissed her. “And like him, you give everything you’ve got, babe. Only—” and he looked deeply into her anguished eyes, framing her face “—you aren’t going to have to run the last of this race by yourself.”
“I—I’ve felt so close to death sometimes, Jim. In the last two weeks since these hearings started, I began drinking. Heavily. I couldn’t take the loss of you any longer. I felt so naked and alone at the hearing. Everyone had something riding on my shoulders.” She lowered her lashes in shame. “I’d drink myself to sleep every night. I’m not proud of that. I’ve never turned to drugs or drinking before to escape.”
With a huge effort, Jim held on to his anger at what they had done to Cathy. “We’ve all done things when we’re in pain, babe. I drank pretty heavily for about three months after Susan’s death.”
“I’ve never done anything like this before, Jim.”
“Don’t be hard on yourself. I’m certainly not going to be.” Jim gave her a small shake, coaxing a slight smile from her. “If you have trouble sleeping from here on out, I’ll take care of that. Deal?”
“Deal,” Cathy agreed brokenly.
“Hungry?”
She rallied beneath his warmth and care. “Starved.”
“For me or food?”
Her laughter filled the bathroom and Jim smiled. He silently promised Cathy that she would get plenty of both, to help her get back on her feet.
“You first. Food second.”
With a wicked grin, he opened the door, allowing the steam to escape. “Let’s give that leg of yours a well-earned rest first? I guess that leaves food as top billing?”
Cathy reluctantly agreed and followed Jim back out into the bedroom. His hair was dark and plastered against his skull. She had an urge to coax a few errant strands off his forehead as he sat down on the bed to pull on his socks. Jim had lost an alarming amount of weight. And then Cathy realized that was because he had lain in a coma for five weeks. He was still pale and must be still recovering from the depths of his own hell. She sat down next to him, slipping her arm across his broad shoulders.
“We both look like POWs,” she muttered.
“We’ll gain back what we lost,” Jim reassured her. He handed her a pair of his socks. “Come on, let’s get dressed. We’ve got the whole day ahead of us.”
Adopting his enthusiasm, Cathy began to dress. “What’s on the agenda?”
He shrugged. “What do you feel like doing?”
Cathy hesitated and held his warm gaze. “Can we go down to the old swing in the apple orchard?”
“Anything you want, sweetheart,” he promised softly.
Chapter 21
THE LATE afternoon air played with her hair, twisting strands across her shoulders as Cathy lovingly applied a fresh coat of red paint to the old swing beneath the apple tree. Between them, they had sanded the entire swing, taking off the flaked or faded paint garnered from the winter before. Cathy looked around her: used pieces of sandpaper littered the grass where she knelt in her paint-splotched blue jeans. Jim approached her with two glasses of well-earned iced tea in hand. Champ barked joyfully and raced toward her. The dog came to a panting halt where she knelt, wagging his tail until she petted him. Satisfied, Champ lay nearby.
“Break time,” Jim said, handing her the sweaty glass. He sat down next to her and examined her handiwork. “Not bad for someone who doesn’t claim to be a very good painter.”
Cathy wrinkled her nose. The sun tea was cold and sweet, with a hint of lemon. She set the glass near the gnarled trunk of the tree. Jim knelt down beside her, placed his tea glass next to hers and drew her into his arms. Cathy grinned and rubbed her hands on the thighs of her jeans before she acquiesced to his embrace.
“I like working with my hands,” she murmured.
Jim maneuvered Cathy until she lay in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder. “I like the way your hands touch me,” he whispered, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Strands of her hair tickled his chin.
“How come you were gone so long?” Cathy asked, settling comfortably in his arms.
Jim lost his smile and eased his fingers through her ginger hair shot through with gold and copper as sunlight lanced through the leaves of the apple tree above them. “I made a phone call,” he hedged.
Cathy heard the evasiveness in his voice, her smile disappearing. “To whom?”
“Colonel Mackey.”
She saw the anger banked in his eyes before he was able to veil his reaction. “And?”
Taking a deep breath Jim asked, “Would it bother you if I flew back to D.C. tomorrow morning? You could stay here at the farm and fly in early Monday if you wanted.”
Her heart took a painful wrench in her breast and Cathy sat up, remaining close to him. “What happened, Jim? Something’s wrong.”
Entwining her slender fingers between his own, Jim said, “Mackey’s being evasive as hell over the phone. I told him earlier that I wanted a complete explanation of why he lied to you about my medical condition.” Disgust covered his face as he looked across the lawn and toward the asphalt road in the distance. “He’s hedging and I’m going to find out why. I used to think Mackey was a man of integrity, that quality you’re supposed to expect in a career military officer.” His mouth flattened. “Instead, if I’m reading him accurately, I think he’s used both of us for his own political ambition.”
Cathy opened her mouth in shock. “Jim, he was like a father to me from the time I woke up in the hospital until now. No one could have been warmer. Or kinder.”
Jim snorted softly. “A wolf in sheep’s clothing, Cathy. He’s used your blind trust in others for his own end. Exactly how, I don’t know yet. But I’m going to find out.” He squeezed her fingers. “Will you be all right here? I’ve already talked to Mom and Dad and they’ve promised to keep you company until you join me Monday morning.”
Her heart pounded with fear and she didn’t know why. So often, she could sense something wrong without knowing who or what. Her voice grew quiet but firm. “No, I’m going back with you, Jim.”
He met and held Cathy’s steady gaze. “Look,” he began heavily, “it will be an all-out war between me and Mackey. I’m not going to pretend it won’t be, babe. I don’t want you caught in the middle of it. I don’t want you hurt anymore.”
Cathy loved him for his protectiveness, but this was her fight, too. “Jim, I have every right to confront Mac as much as you do. If what you’re saying is true, he owes both of us an explanation and an apology.”
His grip on her fingers tightened. “He’s going to give more than an apology before I get done with him. I’m going to take a pound of flesh from that bastard for what he’s put you through,” he whispered roughly.
BUCK ARNLEY met them at the airport. Cathy s
tood back while both men embraced one another. She saw the glimmer of tears in each man’s eyes. And then Arnley walked over to Cathy, throwing his arm around her, grinning broadly.
“We’re a team again,” he told her proudly.
A team…the words echoed in Cathy’s mind as Buck drove them to the hotel near the Capitol. The two Marines talked in low voices and Cathy contented herself by watching the Sunday noontime traffic in the drizzle of a summer shower. Was the rain an omen of things to come? she wondered. Had Mac used her? Why had he lied to her? Occasionally, Jim would glance back at her, a worried look in his eyes and Cathy would force a smile for his benefit. She tried to control her churning emotions, nauseous over the forthcoming meeting with Mackey.
When they arrived at the hotel, they became silent, riding the elevator to the fifth floor. Jim halted in the plushly carpeted hall of the hotel room and knocked twice on the white door trimmed in gold. He gave Cathy’s hand a final squeeze. Today, Jim wore dark brown slacks, a crisp white shirt open at the collar and a tan sport coat. He glanced down at Cathy. She looked thin but elegant in a pale pink shirtdress that brought out the slight color in her cheeks. He saw the fear lingering in her eyes. The door opened.
Mackey stared across the threshold at them. As always, he was in his Marine uniform. By the set of Boland’s lean jaw and his compressed mouth, Mackey realized the officer wasn’t going to accept anything but the truth. His gaze moved to Cathy. She looked better and he was sure it was due to Boland’s being alive. Moving aside, he gestured for them to enter.
Cathy tried to still her nervousness, clutching the small white leather purse in her hand after handing Mackey her damp raincoat. She looked around the sumptuous suite, wondering if Mac or the taxpayers’ hard-earned money paid for it. She watched the two men sizing each other up like two wary alpha wolves circling one another. The air fairly crackled with tension and she sat down on the beige silk couch, crossing her slender legs.
“It’s good to see you, Jim,” Mackey said, holding out his hand toward him.
Danger Close (Shadow Warriors) Page 41
