Radclyffe - Oath of Honor

savior.

• 88 •

Oath Of hOnOr

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.”

• 89 •

RADCLY fFE

“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.

v

• 90 •

Oath Of hOnOr

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.”

• 91 •

RADCLY fFE

“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.”

• 92 •

Oath Of hOnOr

“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.”

• 93 •

RADCLY fFE

“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.

v

• 94 •

Oath Of hOnOr

“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,