Diane Pershing - Whispers and Lies

“So what’s up with you and my brother?” Nancy asked finally, but Lou was rescued from having to answer by Will’s reentrance. Announcing she was thoroughly frazzled and exhausted, Nancy said she was going to bed. She gave Lou a quick conspiratorial wink as she left the room, which made her deeply uncomfortable. There was nothing “up” between her and Will.

But he’d kissed her tonight, hadn’t he? So maybe it wasn’t entirely absurd.

And what if he did kiss you? the voice of reason asked her. It was just that. One kiss.

A really nice kiss.

Which he’d broken off pretty quickly.

As he sat down, Will’s cell phone shrilled. He removed it from his pocket, flipped it open, announced, “Will Jamison here.” If he’d been expecting a specific call, this wasn’t it. Lou watched his face as, surprised, he said, “Oh. Hi.”

It was a woman. Lou knew it immediately, from the way he angled his body away from her just slightly and lowered his voice. “Fine. How about you?” He listened again, turned even farther away from her and said, “Yeah.”

Lou tried not to pay attention, really she did, but her imagination easily filled in the blanks. “How are you?” had been followed by “I miss you” and then “When are you getting back?”

Just then, Will said, “Monday.”

Yup, right on the money, Lou thought, and felt a piercing stab of jealousy. She immediately called herself all kinds of names for even feeling that way. Will had an entire life back in Washington she was not part of. He could even be serious about someone, for all she knew. He hadn’t mentioned that little fact, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t so.

She felt her heart sinking at the prospect of Will with someone he really cared about.

No. Not fair. Was she to spend her entire life mooning over a man who would never choose her?

But he kissed me.

Will hung up, smiled. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she said, brightly, then yawned. It was totally unexpected, as was the next one. And like that, she remembered: she was plain wiped out.

“I have to go to sleep, Will. I’ve been up since four.”

“You mentioned that earlier. Why?”

“We had a little rescue operation this morning. A feral mama cat and six little ones living under a house. The only way we could get them was to surround and surprise them in the dark.”

“Did it work?”

“Somewhat. We got two of the kittens and the mama. You saw her today.”

“Ah, the furious feline.” He smiled his crooked smile and, despite herself, her heartbeat kicked up a notch. “Make that the furious, frantic, feral feline. Kind of has a ring to it.”

“The very one.”

“What about the other kittens?”

“They got away.”

“What will happen to them?”

“They weren’t weaned yet, so most likely they’ll die, if they’re not eaten by a predator first.”

Will was startled, not by what Lou said but by the way she said it. Matter-of-factly, with just a hint of sorrow.

“God, that’s horrible,” he said.

“Yes, it is.” He watched as she tried to stifle another yawn. “It’s also the way nature works—the strong and the cunning survive. I do what I can, Will. It’s not much.”

She rose from the table and took her cup over to the sink. Will watched her small body, the dejectedness in her shoulders. She was so tired and so sad; he wanted to comfort her, as Nancy had done at the front door. Put his arms around her. Hug her.

And not just as a friend.

Man, this was strange. The call just now from Barbara—the financial adviser to a prominent member of the House—had reminded him of the kind of woman he was always attracted to. Independent and self-sufficient, with a high-powered career. Worldly, sophisticated, somewhat self-centered and somewhat cynical, like him.

Sure Lou had a career she loved, and she was both independent and self-sufficient. But she was a generous, giving soul who wore her heart on her sleeve. At her core, she was a nester, a nurturer. He’d always preferred women who were neither. It was easier that way to avoid emotional attachments.

Even so, there it was, that attraction he felt for her. Lou represented life. She cared, and cared deeply, about animals and people and all living things. Sure, she covered it up with a quick wit and occasional sarcasm, and sure, there were old scars and recent pain, but the woman was a definite survivor. Like a plant in the presence of the sun, she always sought the light.

That light was damned attractive to someone dwelling in the dark, as he had been till recently.

But it wasn’t only what she represented; it was Lou herself. He liked her, apart from anything else. Which was why he reminded himself to keep hands off for the rest of his time here in Susanville. He didn’t need any involvements, especially with a woman who wouldn’t treat it casually and whose heart he would break. Will knew himself all too well. He might have hated his father, the founder and editor of the town’s single newspaper, for his workaholic nature which kept him from his family. And in his determination not to follow in his father’s footsteps, he might have run away from working on the paper.

But with maturity, he had come to understand that he was just like the old man—tunnel-visioned and driven. Career came first. So he had decided he could avoid hurting others—avoid making them suffer the same destiny as his own family had suffered—by never getting too involved with a woman, thus avoiding the possibility of a family of his own.

At this point in his life, he might have lost his taste for reporting on the world’s pain and violence, but he hadn’t lost his ambition, his need to get ahead, his hunger to be more. It was what drove him, gave him energy and a reason to get up every morning.

He rose, walked over to Lou at the sink. As he gazed into the sad, scared, tired brown eyes of Lou McAndrews—a woman he’d known for years but felt he had met today for the first time—he took her hand, squeezed it comfortingly and smiled. “You go to bed now, get some sleep. You’re safe here. I’ll see you in the morning.”

After a quick moment of hesitation, she nodded and left the room. Will sat some more at the kitchen table, thinking.

Mostly about the calls he’d made earlier from his bedroom, following through on that niggling little notion that wouldn’t go away. He’d punched in Lincoln’s number at his D.C. condo. When no one picked up, he’d left a message. Then he’d tried his Florida home and his cell phone. No answer at either. Will left messages everywhere, asking that Linc call him ASAP. That it was important.

He checked his watch. Midnight. Lincoln had always been reachable before, but he might be out, carousing with buddies or with a woman, might have his cell phone turned off.

Well, he’d done all he could do. It was time for him to go to bed.

Will tossed and turned all night, thinking about not getting through to Lincoln, and going in and out of dreams about Lou, who was spending the night just down the hall in the guest bedroom, probably cuddled up with a small, black cat.

Will wished he were there in its stead.

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