Guarding Hearts
Page 1
Guarding Hearts
Synopsis
Sergeant Bett Smythe and Lieutenant Gale Rains are building a life together, despite the risks in the tightly closeted world of the Women’s Army Corps. When another couple, Captain Kathleen Hartley and Lieutenant Victoria Whitman, invite Bett and Rain to a dinner party, they’re introduced to the lesbian underground on the base.
Kat and Whit have had a turbulent relationship, and as a budding friendship deepens, Kat’s attraction to Rain threatens both couples’ futures. When Whit’s friend is accused of sexually assaulting a recruit, the ensuing investigation impacts them all, professionally and personally.
As the Battle of the Bulge rages overseas, the bounds of love and friendship are tested. Whit will do almost anything to preserve what she has with Kat, but who is the real threat? And can Bett protect her relationship from the very real dangers close to heart and home?
Praise for Jaycie Morrison
Basic Training of the Heart
“There are some great WWII lesbian romances out there, and you can count Basic Training of the Heart among them. It’s well worth a read, and I look forward to seeing what’s next in this series.”—Lesbian Review
Heart’s Orders
“I am so enamored with this awesome story! While I was reading this book I got so caught up in the struggles the characters faced—I felt as though I was experiencing all of the angst, confusion and elation right along with them. There is one thing that I know for sure; this story is going to stay with me for quite some time. These strong-willed women are truly unforgettable, and they will capture your heart and attention from the first page.”—Lesbian Review
“Jaycie Morrison has captured the mood of an era really well in these novels, and the determination of the women who have signed up to the WAC to not only do a good job but to forge a place for themselves in the world…The romances are sweet and gentle, the mood is soft focus despite the harsh realities of the time. An excellent follow up in the Love and Courage Series, I look forward to book three.”—Lesbian Reading Room
Guarding Hearts
Brought to you by
eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com
eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.
Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.
Guarding Hearts
© 2020 By Jaycie Morrison. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13: 978-1-63555-807-4
This Electronic Original Is Published By
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 249
Valley Falls, NY 12185
First Edition: August 2020
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editors: Ruth Sternglantz and Stacia Seaman
Production Design: Stacia Seaman
Cover Design by Jenna Albright
eBook Design by Toni Whitaker
By the Author
Basic Training of the Heart
Heart’s Orders
Guarding Hearts
Acknowledgments
When I first submitted this story in 2017, I knew it needed some work. But I didn’t expect that an assortment of challenges, both personal and professional, would mean that this publication would be three years in the making. So first, to my readers, I truly appreciate your patience. The story is not over, but it will be on hiatus even longer this next time while I experiment with new characters in more contemporary settings. I hope you will make the journey with me.
To the Bold Stokes Books family—thank you. To Rad, for your continued leadership in these difficult times; to Sandy for your incredible insights and amazing patience; and to Ruth, whose skillful instruction and diligence in the craft will be with me always. Stacia, “picking up the slack” doesn’t begin to describe your care and concern for me and this story, and, Cindy, thank you for your thorough and thoughtful guidance. And to all the BSB writers who have inspired and encouraged me, who made me laugh and cry with your skill and humanity—my undying appreciation.
Marti, Joanie, Jeannie, and Millie, your reading and suggestions at various stages helped make this creation better than it would have been. And to my Flat Tire gang—and especially to Cheeks for the title idea—I love you all and miss you. Thank you for letting the bonds of our friendship stretch through the miles and the months until we meet again.
Dedication
The Covid-19 pandemic began to make its appearance just as we were preparing to print this book. Because the events in these pages happened in the 1940s, our present does not affect them, but it makes the idea of the whole country pulling together and sacrificing for a common cause more vivid than it otherwise might have been. While I originally wrote this story to honor the heroes of the past upon whose shoulders we stand, I wish to dedicate this book to the incredible bravery and service of those who battle on the front lines of our present danger—health care workers and the staff who support them, first responders, grocery store clerks, truck drivers, pickers in the fields, and so many others who are behind the scenes and yet continue to make our lives possible in this “new normal.” Never has it been more obvious that we are all in this together.
And to the only person who could make sheltering in place a joy every day and a comfort every night—my darling wife. Even twenty-four hours a day are not enough to show you how much I love you. Happy retirement, sweetie!
Chapter One
At the sound of the restroom door swinging open behind her, she’d hoped…and when she caught sight of the reflection in the mirror, she’d seen it was true. The expression of smoldering desire in those dark eyes was everything she wanted. And feared. Over the objection of her wildly beating heart, she whispered, “We can’t. We both have someone else.”
“All I know is, I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you,” the low voice murmured in response, the words dancing across the bare skin of her neck as the tall form moved in close behind her. “And I’m tired of waiting.”
She wanted this woman too, a fact she’d been unable to hide as they’d gazed at each other during dinner. While her seat at the restaurant table had concealed the racing pulsations between her thighs, she hadn’t been able to hide her trembling hands and the heartbeat in her throat each time their eyes had met. Now she turned, needing to face her, although her eyes were drawn to a wide, sensuous mouth. Unconsciously, she moistened her own lips.
Pleasantly roughened fingertips brushed her face, their warmth radiating directly to her nipples, which had already grown almost painfully hard. A last step and now their thighs were touching, the caress on her cheek a tender contrast to the fury of need racing through her. She’d been bracing herself against the sink, but now her arms were reaching and she was desperate to caress the muscles in that strong back even as she envisioned sliding her hands down to pull harder, kneading her palms into that exquisitely firm posterior.
She could feel her own arousal even as she lifted her face to meet the piercing gaze—that slick heat begging to be touched. She didn’t think she’d ever been ready so quickly. “Please,” she whispered, that one word a jagged sound matching the ache inside, though she couldn’t have said what she was really asking. Hurry? Wait? Tell me you love me?
Their mouths moved toward each other almost in slow motion as the last of her concerns skittered through
her mind—someone else might come in…what about their respective partners…and how long could she hold out after a large hand moved to clench in her hair and their kiss became a bruising, hungry promise of pleasures to come?
The uneven sound of one more quick breath matched the expanding edge of want inside, and she shivered with the unbidden awareness that the consummation of this burning lust between them would be everything, and it would never be enough. In the second before their lips met, she felt, rather than actually heard, the vibration of a groan and she understood this woman knew it all—knew the dirty secrets of her desire, knew exactly how she needed to be taken, knew how she would cry or beg or do whatever it took to convince her not to stop, to make each delicious moment last a little longer, even as they would move faster, harder, together—
Jumping slightly at the sharp bang of a cabinet door closing in the other room, Captain Kathleen Hartley, protocol and publicity officer of the Women’s Army Corps at Fort Des Moines, Iowa, put her hairbrush back on the dressing table. Normally she was calmed by her nightly routine, but tonight her mind had strayed and she knew why. Running a hand lightly over her face, she could feel the blush of shame that always accompanied such arousing fantasies. Her mother’s voice started up in her mind, that shrill screech that would begin with an extended version of her name…Kathleeeen…and then continue with a lengthy scolding for her latest faults—and these days she didn’t know the half of it.
She closed her eyes for a few seconds as her thoughts retreated to the first woman she’d had a crush on—one of her elementary school teachers, Mrs. Ford. She still retained the memory of Mrs. Ford’s willowy figure standing over her, eyes twinkling at some clever thing Kathleen had said or done. Kathleen also identified this as the moment she’d first understood about guilt, as she’d caught herself harboring a secret wish that Mrs. Ford could be her mother. She’d imagined Mrs. Ford doing all the things her own mother never did—talking with her about the lessons to come over some delicious breakfast each morning, greeting her with a warm embrace each afternoon, eager to congratulate her on some outstanding thing she’d done at school, and brushing her hair each night after dinner before tucking her into bed and wishing her sweet dreams. Her guilt had gotten much worse years later when she realized what she wanted from a later Mrs. Ford type was attention of a not-so-maternal kind. There had been many other crushes since then, and her tastes had gradually shifted from sweet and pretty to rugged and dashing, but all had been safe, she realized now. She swallowed, admitting to herself that the subject of her current obsession was anything but.
No, she told herself. It’s not infatuation, really. It’s just…interest.
The heavy clink of liquor bottles from the kitchen brought her back to the present and she stood, smoothing out her nightclothes and fixing her mind on preparations for tomorrow’s dinner. She felt fortunate that her lover enjoyed entertaining as much as she did and they both took pride that, despite the hardships of war, they were able to offer their guests a variety of drinking options and a fine meal served in a formal setting.
She smiled to herself, recalling how that very formality had helped accomplish something she’d been trying to do for months. It hadn’t taken long after she and Victoria Whitman had arrived in Fort Des Moines before an opportunity to attend one of their gatherings was the most sought-after invitation in the small but lively homosexual community in town, as well as among the lesbian officers on the base. Kathleen didn’t consider herself as a snob, but the idea of mingling with enlisted gals in a social setting seemed unwise, at best. The noncommissioned officers she considered on a case-by-case basis. But the one she thought of as the most intriguing sergeant in Fort Des Moines had initially turned her down flat. The rejection hurt, and she’d tried to see her way through it. She’d been careful, calming her initial attraction until their first few encounters had given her a clear sense that the sergeant also enjoyed their interactions, despite Rains’s formal, somewhat distant manner. At that point, Kathleen had confidently disregarded the common assumption that Gale Rains was MTTS (married to the service), and while she’d given no sign of distress when Rains had declined her first invitation, she’d felt it deeply. Echoes of her mother’s perpetual disapproval were magnified at any perceived inadequacy on her part, and she’d pushed herself hard to ensure such failures were rare.
She’d waited to mention the situation until Whit’s schedule returned to normal. The Fort Des Moines medical staff switched day and night shifts every fourteen days, alternating two on, two off. It had been hard on her lover at first, and Whit, who was normally quite even tempered and thoughtful, had been somewhat irritable and even complained, on occasion, about odd things like indigestion or difficulty in concentrating. So Kat tried to make sure parties or important discussions happened when Whit was on days, when their schedules meshed, or on Whit’s days off between her shifts. Concerns about a drill instructor who’d declined to visit her home seemed shallow and petty against all the death and destruction of war and everything the women of America were doing to work toward their country’s victory, and she told herself that was another reason for her reluctance to bring up the matter. But when they finally talked about it, Whit had thoughtfully suggested that the sergeant’s refusal was most definitely not a personal slight, but more likely shyness or even insecurity on Rains’s part.
Kathleen wasn’t surprised that Whit could relate to Sergeant Rains on some level since, unlike her own moneyed background, Victoria Whitman came from a solidly working-class family. Even though she’d been an only child, Whit described herself as “the kid who went everywhere and made friends with everyone.” She’d told Kathleen how her comfort with the various ethnic neighborhoods of Chicago had only increased when she’d taken over the job of delivering for the pharmacy when Bobby O’Hara had broken his arm racing bikes on an icy hill with some of the other boys. It wasn’t hard for Kat to imagine little Whit as a regular visitor to the drugstore for penny candy or, on special occasions, a soda, but her lover insisted that what she’d loved most was watching Mr. Cleary prepare various home remedies and compounded concoctions for his customers. She’d absorbed every word as the pharmacist talked his way through each process, adding, “If old Jack Cleary was surprised that a girl would be interested in such things, he never let on.” Whit described her disappointment when Bobby healed enough to get his old job back, but by the time she finished high school her visits to the pharmacy slowed considerably as other pursuits became more important. Unlike many other girls, she never outgrew her tomboy ways, and as such, Kathleen knew Whit would have been totally out of place in the world she’d inhabited during that period—a realm of grand openings, galas, and fancy banquets. Perhaps their dissimilar backgrounds made them an unlikely couple, but in their time together, Kathleen admired the occasional flashes of what Whit referred to as her “street smarts,” while Whit had come to appreciate many of the finer things that Kathleen enjoyed.
“There’ll come another time,” Whit had assured Kat that night when they’d first talked of Sergeant Rains in their bed. “And she’ll say yes.”
As it turned out, Whit was exactly right. The unsociable sergeant had seemed different…more relaxed, somehow…when she’d come back from a week’s leave following a dramatic altercation with an MP, and shortly after that she’d been promoted and put in charge of the motor pool. Now a lieutenant, Gale Rains had unexpectedly approached her when she’d brought in Whit’s jeep, asking for some fine dining guidance. A few days later, they’d been practicing in the mess hall when Bett Smythe walked in. It hadn’t taken Kathleen long to detect the electricity between the two women, and she’d promptly invited them both to her pre-holiday dinner party. Normally, she’d have to be much better acquainted with someone, or the guests would come with an endorsement from someone she did know well. But the expectation that Rains might now accept her invitation made it worth the gamble. Interestingly, though Bett seemed delighted by the opportunity, she deferred
until she could speak to Rains privately, making Kat wonder who held the power in their relationship.
Driving home, she’d pondered further on the two women she’d invited to her home. Bett was absolutely gorgeous, well-educated, and quite probably a step above even Kathleen’s social status. They might become friends, but she wasn’t the type Kathleen was attracted to. Gale Rains fit that bill to a T. Even in winter, Rains had the coloring of someone who spent a great deal of time in the sun, with dark hair over deep black eyes in a face that wasn’t classically beautiful but whose angles and lines spoke of determination and strength. She had a reputation for toughness, tempered with fairness and even sensitivity. Physically, Rains’s height made her somewhat imposing, and she had a way of moving that indicated power beyond her tightly muscular conditioning. Even while engaging in casual conversation on the sidewalk of Fort Des Moines, she seemed constantly alert, completely aware of her surroundings and of everyone in them. And then there were the stories about her and that knife. Kathleen shivered lightly at the thrill of a dangerous woman.
Not that she was looking for anything beyond occasional dinner companions or possibly friendship, she prompted herself as she made her way to the bed and slipped under the covers. It had been a great relief when she and Whit had both been assigned to Fort Des Moines after their Florida base had closed, since her lover knew her in ways no one else ever had. Once, she’d been so frightened by the needs that only Whit could fill she’d almost sabotaged what they had, but after they’d weathered that storm, she gained a clear understanding of the boundaries that held their relationship together and she’d been very careful not to cross them again. This wouldn’t be any different.