Ann Cristy (Helen Mittermeyer)

by Tread Softly (lit)

  "Clear.. .but, Rafe, I couldn't refuse Ruth Proctor. She's such a nice woman, and life hasn't been easy for her."

  "I could tell that, angel. That's why I want to arrange for a college scholarship for her boy Jerry when he comes of age. I understand from his mother that he's very in­terested in engineering, so if he still feels that way when he finishes high school, the money will be there for Clarkson or any of the other good engineering schools in this state."

  "Oh, Rafe..." Cady could feel her eyes filling with tears as she turned toward him on the bed. "You're such a good man."

  "Good enough for you to keep, my love?" Rafe quizzed her, his voice gruff.

  "Rafe, you're so foolish. Of course I want to keep you. Didn't I show you that all the months you were so ill?" Cady let her fingers trace his chin line, liking the roughness of his stubbled skin.

  "I don't want your pity, Cady. I want more," he mum­bled, his face in her hair.

  "How could you have more? You have all of me now." She felt as daring as if she had just disclosed high-level state secrets.

  "Have I? That's what I want, Cady—all of you, all the time. I can't settle for less. The wanting is stronger every day, my love."

  "Mine, too," Cady breathed, turning on her side to face him on the pillow, mouth to mouth with him, skin to skin.

  "Cady, darling, you're so warm. You make me feel that I'll never be cold again as long as I have you near me." Rafe's breathing was ragged on her face.

  Cady could see the streaks of color run up his neck as his muscles grew taut with need. She could feel her own shivering response as he began the familiar explo­ration of her body.

  "Cady, darling, I need this so. I want it so," he mum­bled, letting his mouth rove her form, his tongue a hot pleasure that fired her feeling for him.

  His hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs lifting to tease her hardening nipples even as his lips moved down her body. His hoarse mutterings of satisfaction increased as his mouth traced a path down her abdomen to her thighs.

  Her body quivered in involuntary reaction to the joy he was giving her, arching toward him like a drawn bow. "Rafe... I... can't believe my feelings," she groaned, her hands digging into him to pull him even closer.

  He gave a husky laugh and tightened his hold on her, but when he leaned back to say something to her, Cady wouldn't release him, nibbling at his chin.

  The heat built in both of them to an intolerable pres­sure. When Cady thought surely she would fly apart, they climaxed together. She felt as if the planet had separated, all the stars in the galaxy had fallen earthward, and only she and Rafe were floating out there in space. They descended slowly back to earth, still clinging to each other.

  "Rafe," Cady mumbled from the tight haven of his arms. "It's more beautiful than ever to me. Is it to you?"

  He chuckled into her hair. "Cady, love, it's you. You keep getting more beautiful." He leaned back from her, letting one finger lift her chin so he could look at her. "When I was in the nursing home, I used to look at you and weep inside, knowing that I could never love you again. That was sheer agony for me. I wanted you so much and couldn't reach out and touch you. When you would lean over and kiss my forehead, I wanted to yell at you to kiss my lips so I could feel your mouth—if only for a moment. My eyes could see you lift my hand and put your lips to it, but I couldn't feel you do it and it tore me apart." Rafe's voice had the sound of ripping cloth as he described his feelings.

  "Oh, Rafe, I hated it when you were paralyzed. I could feel how you hated it, too. That's why I went ahead with the operation." She enclosed his head with her arms, striving to comfort him, wanting him to forget those awful days when he was a prisoner of his own body.

  "If you keep stroking me like that, Cady love, we'll never leave this bed." When Rafe lifted his head, she saw he had that elfin look on his face, the laughter in his eyes not masking the heat that glittered there.

  "I remember on our honeymoon we did that. Stayed in bed all day, I mean." Cady felt out of breath as she looked at her husband. "I don't suppose you could tell Ray that we're too tired to join him for..." Cady felt herself lifted and put aside as Rafe reached for the phone.

  In a few terse words Rafe was through and turning to reach for her again. "So much for that. Now where were we?"

  Cady felt balloon-light as her husband began to caress her again. Rafe was hers, if only for a short while. The campaign would take him again and there would be other things to pull him from her side when they returned to Washington, but for now he was hers.

  The next day they returned to their lakefront home and prepared for the clambake they were giving for some people who, Rafe informed her, were fence-sitters in the campaign. When the guests began arriving in the early afternoon, Cady was once more gratified by the number of people who approached her and mentioned her work on the Hill.

  "You're an asset to Rafe, daughter." Her father smiled down at her after overhearing some of the guests sing his daughter's praises. "I think Rafe agrees with me." Professor Nesbitt strolled with Cady around the grounds while she stopped and spoke to people or just smiled and nodded.

  "I like to think that I'm a help to Rafe," she said, waving to some children who were riding horseback down the cliff path. She took her father's arm and squeezed it, feeling a sense of deep happiness. "Rafe looks won­derful, doesn't he?"

  Her father followed her gaze, watching Rafe laughing with some men, a stein of beer in one hand, the other hand in its characteristic position on his hip. As though he felt their gaze, Rafe turned, fixing his eyes on them, then smiling, his lips pursing in a kiss as he looked at Cady.

  "He's never looked better." The professor tamped his pipe on his open hand, his forehead creasing as he watched a man approach them. "Cady, is that...?" He squinted.

  Cady looked in the direction her father was staring and started. The medium-tall man with the thinning sandy hair and rather dissipated air was familiar. How could she ever have thought Todd Leacock attractive, she mused as he came closer. More to the point, what was he doing at Rafe's fund-raising clambake? Cady racked her brain as she tried to remember if Todd had ever talked of having political leanings. She could not recall that he had. She shrugged inwardly. Perhaps he had decided to get more involved in politics.

  She couldn't help thinking how poorly he compared to her husband. Like a good politician's wife, she sum­moned up a smile, even though she wasn't glad to see him.

  "Hello, Cady. Professor Nesbitt." Todd's smile had the assurance of someone who assumed he would be welcome.

  Cady stared at him—his receding hairline, his begin­ning paunch—and her smile widened. "Todd Leacock. How are you? I had forgotten that you live near us in Seneca County." She kept her smile as natural as she could, even though she was laughing inside at the young and foolish eighteen-year-old who had thought herself in love with him. Still, Todd had served one purpose. If she hadn't been upset and gone to her room, Rafe would never have come there to soothe her. Just thinking that made her smile more genuine and her handshake more enthusiastic. She was a little puzzled by the smug look that came over Todd's face before he turned to greet her father.

  Cady remembered that the professor had never liked Todd much, so she wasn't surprised when he excused himself and wandered off toward the group surrounding Rafe.

  "Well, Cady, tell me about yourself." Todd put his arm around her waist.

  At once Cady moved away, annoyed. "I'm fine. Very happily married to Rafe, as you can see. How are you?"

  "I'm very happily divorced," he said ironically, as if mocking her. "For a while I worked for a camera supply outfit in the city. Then I opened my own camera shop. I photograph weddings and other events, sell equipment to photo buffs. It's a pretty good business. I like being my own boss." He looked at her for long moments. "I did some work for some associates of your husband when he campaigned in Rochester. I enjoyed that."

  "Sounds good," Cady replied, struggling not to yawn. It had been a long day.


  "I'd like to take some pictures of you, Cady." Todd shifted the camera from his shoulder.

  She blinked. "Why?"

  He shrugged. "Oh, sometimes I write articles for the Sunday supplements, and I think I could sell pictures of you to them. You know, senator's wife, that sort of thing." Todd's smile had a stale charm, Cady thought.

  "All right, but I think the papers and periodicals al­ready have plenty of pictures of me." Smiling into the camera, she looked up, then away. She was rather baffled when Todd went into a kneeling position on the ground and clicked his camera up at her. After several such shots she called a halt.

  "Just a couple more, Cady. There..."

  "No more, Todd. You must have thirty shots of me. No magazine will buy all those." She smiled at him mechanically and began walking away. "I really do have to circulate."

  "I'll walk with you." He seemed impervious to any hint.

  For the next hour Todd remained as if glued to her side, and Cady was very aware that he was still shooting pictures of her. She could feel her irritation with him growing. All at once, when she had just about had enough, he seemed to disappear. Cady heaved a sigh of relief, because she had been on the point of telling him to get lost no matter what people might think of her. Todd Leacock was a pest!

  The clambake was a success, but by the time everyone was leaving, Cady was exhausted. She looked for Rafe and her father and found them saying good-bye to friends on the front lawn. When the last car finally left, Cady tried unsuccessfully to persuade her father to stay for a snack. He had a class in the morning and was eager to get home.

  Cady noticed Rafe's silence as they walked around the yard, picking up the trash in a desultory fashion. Tomorrow their handyman, Sid Gresham, would tidy the place in earnest. "Is something wrong, Rafe?"

  "Why didn't you tell me that you had invited your old boyfriend to the clambake?" Rafe crumpled a foam cup in his hand before tossing it into the plastic-lined trash barrel.

  "Because I didn't invite him! He used to live near here in Seneca County, but he lives in Rochester now." She shrugged, emptying an ashtray. "I guess he was visiting his folks for the weekend. Who cares?"

  "You don't? Thomas reminded me that he was the one you were going with when I met you." Rafe turned to look at her, a muscle jumping in his cheek.

  "Yes, I couldn't help thinking that was the one good thing Todd did."

  Rafe's jaw worked as though it had a rusty hinge. "And what might that be?"

  "If he hadn't shocked the daylights out of me by being in bed with Marina, I might not have come home when I did. Then a certain congressman might not have come up to my room." Cady smiled at him.

  "I'll send him a Candy Gram." Rafe's voice was still hard, but there was a flicker of blue heat in his eyes.

  "Could that be construed as a bribe, Senator?" Cady felt her pulse jump out of rhythm as Rafe laced his fingers through hers.

  "A payoff, I think," Rafe muttered, his hand still holding hers as he went behind her to press her closer to him. "Maybe we should clean up the bedroom now. No doubt it's a mess."

  "No one was in there," Cady muttered into his neck.

  "Let's check." He leaned back from her, his eyes lasering her. "Why aren't you angry with me for being such a jealous jackass?"

  Cady lifted her free hand and touched his jaw. "I'm waiting until you're three kinds of jackass. Then I'll get mad at you."

  "Long-suffering little thing, aren't you?" His hand slipped under her breast, squeezing in gentle motion.

  "A true martyr," Cady gasped, her body yielding to him. "Senator, I don't think we should shock the neigh­bors, in case anyone should wander by."

  "True." He turned her body but didn't allow her to move away from him. His arm tightened around her waist, he began leading her back to the house. "Election Day is almost on us. Feel the bite in the air. Still, we've had a beautiful autumn so far." He stopped her for a moment, lifting her chin so that he could watch her. "Whether I win or lose, we'll have to leave for Wash­ington right after the election."

  "You'll win. I know it." Cady wrapped her arms around his middle, her cheek pressed to his. She felt his lips on her hair.

  "What I'm trying to say, wife of mine, is that we'll have precious little time alone back in Washington, so let's not waste the hours we have now." Rafe grinned at her. "How would you like to spend the next three days in bed with your husband?"

  "Oh, shucks. I thought you were going to offer me Burt Reynolds." Cady chuckled and pushed against his chest.

  Off-balance for a moment, Rafe wasn't able to stop her when she broke into a run. "Games, is it? Fine with me."

  Cady was running as fast as she could, sure that she could beat Rafe to the house, when she felt something catch her around the waist. She was laughing so hard she couldn't even struggle when Rafe pulled her down on top of him. "How did you catch me? You're in better shape than you should be." Cady scowled down at him as he lay beneath her. They were in a brushy declivity, hidden from the house and the lake but not far from the cliff overlooking the water.

  "Make love to me, Cady." Rafe's voice was hoarse.

  "We can't—not here. You'll catch cold."

  "We're hidden from the wind here and the sun is warm... so is the ground," Rafe muttered, loosening her sweater and lifting it so he might caress her breasts with his lips. "Did I ever tell you that I love your breasts?"

  "You may have mentioned it." Cady snuggled closer, loving the crisp softness of his bare chest against her.

  Rafe sheltered her with his body when her clothes were removed. Cady felt safe and protected. Their hands on each other were sure yet hesitant as they both strove to control their own feelings and give the other satisfac­tion. Heat burned through the control like a blast furnace gone mad.

  Cady felt wild, protective, loving, giving, wanting. Rafe's skin was as precious as platinum, and when it touched her it turned her to gold. They were alone in the inferno, cool in the middle of a fiery eye, serene in their love, calm in the center of the storm.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Rafe was reelected! The celebration had a Mardi Gras flavor, delighting Cady. Rafe had deserved to win. He was the best man for New York. Cady knew that and was happy when other people said the same thing. When they returned to Washington, Rafe's staff was elated and gave a small party to welcome him back.

  The weeks after their return were busy ones for both of them, but Rafe and Cady tried to make time for each other every day. Cady felt exhilarated by their growing closeness. The marriage wasn't over, after all—on the contrary, it was better than ever.

  She was in the rose garden of their home in Virginia one afternoon, snipping what would be the last roses of the year. It was the end of November, and there was a damp chill in the air. She had just cut a partly opened bud from the Peace rosebush when Trock walked up to her carrying a package. Cady stopped what she was doing to watch the two dogs who had been following her turn to greet the attendant with soft barks and wagging tails.

  "You've even won Hobo to your side, Trock." Cady smiled at him and took the proffered package, not looking at it. "Did you ever think these two would become friends?" She looked down at the bull terrier sitting side by side with the Doberman, their tongues hanging out of their mouths as though they were grinning at her and understood what she was saying.

  The two animals were quite a contrast. The bull terrier was snow white now, almost all the scars healing nicely though the gash on his nose still had a redness to it, and his slanted eyes had a contented intelligence. Cady's research on the breed had revealed that despite their abil­ity to fight ferociously, they were gentle animals, good as pets for both adults and children.

  At first the two male canines had given each other a wide berth. There had been a hostile wariness in their manner, especially on the part of the Doberman, who resented the intruder to his home. Gradually his reluctant acceptance gave way to a cautious camaraderie that grew every day.

  Trock watched
the two dogs in silence for a time. Then he inclined his head and patted each animal, his facial muscles moving in the semblance of a smile. "Maybe not at first. Graf was determined not to let any­one disturb his domain, but when he found Hobo equally determined, they both backed down. Dogs are smarter than people." Trock took a deep breath, making Cady smile. He was not a man who liked speeches, and he would open up with no one except Cady or Rafe. He pointed to the parcel in her hand. "They said it was special delivery." Then he frowned at Cady. 'You've been out here long enough in the cold. I'll walk the dogs a bit. You take the flowers and go inside."

  Cady looked down at the brown-paper-wrapped article in her hand. She turned it over to see if there was a return address. There wasn't. She shrugged, lifted the small pile of flowers into her basket, pocketed the rose snips in her coverall, and strolled to the library door. She set the package on Rafe's desk and carried the flowers to the kitchen, where the housekeeper took them from her and said she would wash them and bring them in a vase to the library if Mrs. Densmore would like to arrange them there.

  Cady took her time showering and shampooing her hair. Her thoughts were on Rafe and the quiet dinner they would have together this evening. Bouillabaisse was one of his favorites, and Cady decided that they would also have New York State champagne and the French rolls that Rafe was addicted to.

  She dressed with care. Rafe's tastes were uppermost in her mind as she donned a silky wool dress in a light purple that was one shade darker than her eyes. Her medium-heel slings were a brown kid and even more comfortable than sneakers. All at once she remembered the flowers that the housekeeper had put in the library to be arranged, and she hurried from the room and down the stairs.