She used to think Kathleen Hartley was the hottest piece going, and if Whit’s woman had ever given her the slightest indication of interest, she’d have gladly have overlooked that friendship to play a little grab-ass. But when she first laid eyes on Private Elizabeth Smythe, her opinion changed. From the moment Miriam had seen her sitting out in the classroom during her lecture on munitions and armaments, she’d hadn’t been able to get the blonde out of her mind. Normally she rushed through the talk with barely a pause, but Bett’s rapt expression had made her want to do her best. She’d put everything she had into her words, drawn back to those stunning eyes over and over. She’d gone out of her way to find out the new recruit’s name and had even tried to joke with Rains about what good luck she had, getting the best-looking woman in the whole WAC in her squad. As usual, the stone-faced sergeant acted all official and refused to engage with her in anything resembling conversation. But then, Boudreaux knew why.
Since she’d been in charge of ordnance, there might have been some other officers who suspected she had more than gunpowder on her mind, but at least they had the good sense to mind their own business. Then, about a year ago, she’d gotten a little action from a girl in Rains’s squad. Somehow the drill instructor had gotten wind of it, and she’d acted like some kind of avenging angel, calling Boudreaux out in front of the others and even suggesting combat between the two of them to settle the issue. She might have considered it, but there were stories about Rains, about the knife she carried, and it only took one look at Rains’s body to know that the fitness drills she did with the recruits kept her in top condition physically. So she’d backed off with her tail between her legs, aware that when Donna, her current squeeze, caught wind of what had happened—and she would—it’d be over between them…and it had been. Plus, almost everyone except Whit started treating her like she had cooties or something, and there hadn’t been even a hint of further promotions. But what that Indian bitch didn’t realize was Miriam Boudreaux had her own style of fighting, and when she was ready, Gale Rains wouldn’t know what hit her. And she was ready now, especially after having her suspicions confirmed. Rains had somehow managed to get the choicest morsel for herself, and it was time for her to pay.
Speaking of pay, Lieutenant Boudreaux reminded herself to go by the PX and mail the extra scratch she’d gotten off Rains to her uncle Lucien. She’d gotten a little behind on her payments to the local bokor and there was no telling what kind of curse he’d come up with if she spent that five dollars elsewhere. But first, she went back by the ordnance building, needing to check the schedule for the week. A smile crept across her lips when she saw new recruits were scheduled for a tour tomorrow. By habit, she looked for the drill instructor before she remembered Rains wasn’t a problem in that area any longer. There was a name she didn’t recognize—probably one of the new ones. Perfect. She’d get that itch scratched sooner rather than later, and then she’d get on to the real business at hand.
* * *
“After dinner, I want to talk to you about going over to help Whit this weekend.” Bett stood behind Rain at the stove where she was putting the finishing touches on dinner. They had both changed out of their uniforms, and it seemed like as good a time as any to bring up the subject.
Rain turned to her, a slightly puzzled expression on her face. “All right.”
They ate as a blaze burned brightly, spreading its warmth across the room. Bett reached across the little table to touch Rain’s cheek. “Have I told you how much I love having a fire? It makes the room feel wonderfully homey and intimate.”
Rain smiled but said nothing. Once they’d put the dishes in the sink, Bett took her hand and led her to the couch. She took a breath, having decided to dive right in. Rain had never been one for veiled conversation.
“Do you remember back in basic when I told you Kathleen Hartley was attracted to you?”
Rain blinked. “Yes. When we had our picnic in the grove, and I first showed you my knife. That was same night you pressed yourself against me and said you knew that was how you wanted to be with someone.”
Bett couldn’t hide her pleasure that Rain had added that memory. Nodding, she said, “And here we are. And this is so much more than I imagined at that moment.”
Rain leaned in and kissed her softly. “I’m eternally grateful for your persistence.”
Bett was tempted to kiss Rain back, to let the discussion go to their memories of coming together until they’d be in bed, making love. But there was something very different she needed to say. “Kathleen Hartley is still attracted to you. I could see it at the dinner.”
Rain made a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a snort of disbelief. “Bett, that can’t be right. Kathleen is with Whit. They seem very happy together.”
“Beloved, you wouldn’t see this because you have a kind of tunnel vision when it comes to love. You think everyone who is with someone is as committed as we are.”
“I disagree. I didn’t sense that with Miriam Boudreaux and Sara Vernon. I didn’t see any such feeling between them.”
“Right, okay, perhaps I’m speaking too broadly. But I’m telling you it is possible to be with someone, to be happy with them, even, but meet someone else to whom you are powerfully attracted. And I believe that’s what’s happening with Kathleen. And you don’t see it because you like her.” Before Rain could protest, Bett added, “I understand you like her as a friend, but that’s very different from how she feels about you.”
Rain began rocking slightly, quiet for a long moment. Finally, Bett took her hand, relieved when Rain entwined their fingers and squeezed lightly. “I don’t know much about matters of the heart, other than what I’ve learned from you.” Rain’s voice was earnest. “And I find it very hard to imagine a situation in which I could feel the way I do about you while also feeling an attraction to someone else. In the times I’ve spoken with Kathleen on base and even at her home the other night, I had no sense of anything beyond friendship between us.”
Bett smiled sadly, loving Rain’s innocence even as she feared that was exactly what made her susceptible to an expertly calculated approach like Kathleen Hartley’s. This was not what she’d expected when she thought of forming friendships. Would there always be some attraction—even if unacknowledged—between particular members of a lesbian group? Could couples remain friends, even if such interest existed between them? “When you are over there this weekend, will you be mindful of what I’ve said?” She didn’t have to ask for a promise. Rain’s word was all she needed.
Nodding, Rain reminded her, “I’m going to be working with Whit. I might not even see Kathleen.”
“You will,” Bett said quietly. “I guarantee you will. Then or even sooner.”
* * *
Years of practice during her mother’s constant lecturing had made Kat capable of keeping her expression pleasant, even when she wanted to scream. So it took very little effort for her to listen calmly to Whit’s story of Miriam Boudreaux’s desire for revenge on Gale Rains. Then Whit had added, in a casually offhand way, Miriam’s accusation that she’d noticed Kat having some inappropriate interest in Rains. They’d both laughed, and then Kathleen had turned serious. “I really think that’s the last straw, Vic. Surely you can see she’s only saying that to make sure you stay on her side in this.” The bitter taste of omission turned her stomach, and she spoke even more sharply. “What has Boudreaux ever done for you, other than claim to be your friend? All she’s ever done is take. She’s been here a half dozen times at least and never once contributed anything to our party, other than drunken tirades. Bett brought a very nice bottle of wine on her first visit. And I’m quite sure she’s never offered to help you with chores, like Rains did.” Whit inclined with her head in the way Kat knew meant she agreed, even though she wasn’t pleased about it. She softened her tone. “You can’t pretend this is okay, Miriam’s intention to hurt Gale somehow.”
“No, but I’ve got a feeling Gale can take care of herse
lf,” Whit murmured, obviously trying to stay neutral.
“Not if she doesn’t know what’s coming. Look, if you can’t stall Miriam until Saturday when you’ll see Gale and can warn her, I’ll tell her tomorrow.” When Whit’s face showed a flash of misgiving, Kathleen added, “We already agreed to meet to discuss the dining experience from the party. I’ll find a way to work it into the conversation.” She rose from her seat at the table and went to stand behind Whit, putting her hands on her shoulders. “Unless you’d rather I didn’t see her. If there’s anything about my acquaintance with Gale that makes you uncomfortable, I won’t go. How you feel is a thousand times more important to me.” She bent and kissed the top of Whit’s head, hating that she was misrepresenting her feelings this way, even as she tried not to hold her breath.
“Maybe it would be best for you to talk to her,” Whit said slowly. “Then I’m not betraying a confidence and you’ll rest easier.”
Kathleen nodded. “And what will you say to Miriam?”
“I’ll try to keep her calm. You know how she blows hot and cold. In another day or two she may be on to something else.” Whit shifted, sighing. “I’ve got to get ready for work.”
Kat eased her arms down to Whit’s chest and bent to kiss the back of her neck. “Thank you for dinner. I’ll see if I can leave a little bit late tomorrow. Maybe you’ll come home with another good story for me?”
Whit grinned. “Maybe I will, little Kitty.”
* * *
Despite her best intentions, Kathleen couldn’t make herself wait for Whit to get home the next morning. Instead, she wrote a sweet note, thanking her lover for being such a wonderful person. She’d had to rewrite the message after realizing her last sentence about not deserving Whit’s love made her sound guilty or at least remorseful, attitudes that were unlike her as a rule, and exactly the type of sentiments that were likely to make Whit suspicious.
All the way to the base, she practiced various ways of telling Rains she might be in danger from Miriam Boudreaux, and by the time she arrived at the motor pool, she’d just about convinced herself that this warning was her sole purpose for being there. She arrived just as Lieutenant Rains was completing the morning assignments with her drivers, and seeing the line of enlisted women so attentive and respectful of their officer made her feel a swell of pride, as if she had some stake in Gale Rains’s accomplishments.
The secretary noticed her first, motioning her to a chair near her desk. “If you can wait, the lieutenant will be with you in a moment, Captain.”
“That will be fine. There’s no need for me to interrupt,” Kathleen assured the woman.
Rains dismissed the drivers, and the roar of engines blocked out any other sound for a few moments. Moving toward one of the bays where a dark-haired PFC in coveralls was lifting the hood of a jeep, Rains felt eyes upon her and turned back suddenly, finding Kathleen Hartley smiling in her direction. She started to smile back but stopped herself as she remembered Bett’s words of warning. Captain Hartley rose and extended her hand. Rains took it, because it would have looked strange if she hadn’t. In that quick moment of touching, though, she felt nothing other than what she’d always felt with Kathleen—the warmth of an unusual friendship that had formed between them. Unusual, partly because Rains had never made friends easily and, before Bett, had been content in her solitude. She’d given it some thought last evening as Bett had gotten ready for bed, remembering the first time she and Kathleen had spoken, after their initial meeting. Why had she been willing to talk to the captain about the big moon that day? Whites generally didn’t care about natural events of that kind, but she could tell she had Hartley’s full attention, and that was…what? Exceptional? Gratifying? Flattering?
“Forgive me for intruding, Lieutenant, but could I speak with you for a moment?” Before Rains could answer, she added, “If this isn’t a good time, perhaps we could schedule a lunch.”
Rains considered the options. If they met during lunch, there would be others around, and their presence might make it harder for her to read Kathleen’s true intentions, as she’d told Bett she would. But thinking of Bett’s worries settled her mind. “Early lunchtime would be best,” she said and Hartley nodded.
“The mess hall at 11:15?”
“Yes,” Rains agreed. “Let me walk you out.”
Kathleen nodded and her expression remained serious as they walked toward the parking lot. Rains tried to hide her concern with a tease—something she’d only recently learned to do. “If this is about the ice cream fork—” she said, relieved when Kathleen laughed.
“No, I’m afraid it’s more problematic than that,” Kathleen answered, her expression sobering quickly. “But I don’t want you to worry.” She touched Rains’s arm briefly and Rains wondered if Kathleen made the gesture so frequently that she’d stopped noticing. Was that because it truly didn’t matter or because in some part of her, she liked it? “Just don’t open any packages that might come in this week,” Hartley went on. “Not until we talk, all right?”
“Packages?” Rains asked, her mind unprepared for this new topic.
“Yes. I’ll explain at lunch.” She turned and walked toward her car, the sleek Alfa Romeo that Rains remembered first seeing when they’d had one of their utensil practices. There was something about the automobile that fit Kathleen Hartley perfectly, and Rains smiled to herself as Hartley’s hand flitted a quick goodbye wave out the window. Looking beyond the base in the direction of Bett’s building, Rains wondered if that was the kind of thing friends noticed about each other, or if her lover was right to be worried. Perhaps this was the danger she’d been warned of in her dream?
Chapter Six
Kathleen chose not to sit at the officers’ table for this conversation. Instead, she’d picked a more private four-top located in the kind of no-man’s-land between the White and Negro sections of the mess hall. Rains entered the mess hall and acknowledged her with an almost imperceptible nod. Kat liked it that Gale wasn’t given to showy mannerisms. That was probably why her private fantasy—the part where the normally quiet lieutenant cried out her name as she pleasured her—was so incredibly enjoyable.
She shook herself back into the moment as one of the Negro officers approached. Lieutenant Antigone Marshall ran the grounds crew, which was one of the most fully integrated units, and judging by the immaculate condition of the base, she was very good at her job. Lieutenant Marshall teased her on the protocol of sitting away from her usual place and Kathleen laughed. They chatted until Rains joined them, and Kathleen was pleased when the two lieutenants greeted each other warmly. It occurred to Kathleen that Rains was a kind of no-man’s-land herself—half white, and therefore under suspicion by those of color, and half Sioux, so different enough to be a target of some bigotry. She was proud that both women found her approachable. Most of the colored women kept to themselves, doubtlessly not wanting to risk the rejection or outright hatred that accompanied some people’s prejudices. And having Gale as her friend was still quite an accomplishment, even though Rains’s reputation for being standoffish and reserved had faded somewhat in recent months. Gesturing at the table, Rains invited Marshall to join them. Kathleen held her breath, hoping her disapproval wouldn’t be obvious.
Marshall hesitated as if she wanted to say yes before a sad smile flitted quickly across her dark face. “Thank you, Lieutenant Rains. Maybe another time. Enjoy your lunch.” She nodded at Kathleen. “Captain.”
“Nice to see you, Lieutenant Marshall.” As Rains sat, Kathleen gestured at Marshall’s departing form. “We’re both from Chicago, you know.” Rains shook her head. “I saw her out with the grounds crew one day and complimented her on their work. Once we discovered our common Chicago roots, we had a great talk about the city. It practically made me homesick.”
Rains inclined her head. “It’s good you are not one of those people who are uncomfortable talking to someone different.”
Kathleen warmed inside, and this was unlike the us
ual spike of attraction she’d always felt around Rains. She imagined this was what someone in the motor pool must feel like when their demanding lieutenant praised their work. “I suppose that’s one of the things I enjoy most about entertaining,” Kat mused. “Making new friends who are different from people I already know. But before I get swept away by your compliments, let me talk to you about something other than our fine dining practice for a moment.”
Rains tried not to be distracted by Kathleen’s mention of compliments. Had she unknowingly been flattering her? Was this what worried Bett? Did such conversations with Hartley reveal some hidden desire on her part? When she heard Boudreaux’s name, she refocused on the current discussion. Hartley was cautioning her as she repeated some of the boastful remarks Miriam had made to Whit.
“A truly deadly person doesn’t threaten,” Rains interjected. “They simply act.”
Kathleen sighed. “I wish I could believe that, but I’m worried. First, you bested her at cards and second, she believes there was something going on with you and Sara afterward.” She nodded, certain of her point. “Miriam’s hurt and she’s jealous. That makes her dangerous.”
“Sara did speak with me,” Rains acknowledged. “She said she was interested in…uh, my skill with cards. But I think she called it ‘mind over matter.’ I told her I wasn’t sure I could really explain, but she asked if we could meet for lunch sometime and talk then. She also told me Miriam was very jealous, so she would not tell her about any plans that we made.” A quick flash of emotion crossed Kathleen’s face, but Rains wasn’t sure how to read it. Was she worried? Offended? Angry? “I asked if having a third person might not make it look less suspicious, and she agreed. She said she would call me, but she hasn’t yet.”
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