Speak Easy Speak Danger

by Sharon G Clark

  Surprised, Margaret leaned back. “Uh…”

  “Yeah.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I didn’t say anything. I ran away.” Jo groaned. “Ugh, like a kid, I ran away, and came straight home to the closest people I’ve had resembling a mom and… well, mom.”

  Margaret took Jo’s hand. “Well, that was quite a declaration Tessa released. I probably would have run too.” Margaret had done her version of running when Fiona confessed her feelings. She squeezed Jo’s hand. “How do you feel about her revelation?”

  Jo snorted, then said, “Scared, happy, confused. But—”

  “But?”

  “All I can think about is how I feel when she kisses me. I’ve been a little in love with her since I first laid eyes on her. Tessa makes me feel happy, comfortable with myself just as I am. I want to care for her, do care for her. When I’m not with her, I’m always thinking of her.” Jo met her gaze with a furrowed brow. “Even with all that, I’m afraid it will all fall apart if I say the words aloud. What if it jinxes the relationship?”

  “If you’re using the word relationship instead of friendship, you’re probably in deeper than you’re willing to admit.” Margaret grinned. “If Tessa is truly in love with you, you won’t have to parrot the words back when she speaks them. She’ll give you time to feel them and to adjust.”

  “I ran away. What if Tessa takes my reaction badly?”

  “From what I’ve gleaned from the few times in her company, she’ll recognize you were overwhelmed by the evening. You did bare your horrible past to her, after all. The disclosure is quite ponderous to the average person. Sleep on it, Jo. By morning, you’ll be able to focus better.”

  Jo pulled her hand free from Margaret’s and rose to her feet. “I feel like such a kid right now.”

  Margaret watched the flicker of self-annoyance skitter across Jo’s features. “How so?”

  “This is what I wanted from the moment I saw Tessa. None of the crushes I had before her made me feel the way she makes me feel inside.” Jo shrugged. “Now I don’t know what to do with it other than feel skittish.”

  Margaret smiled. “Love will do that to you. Trust me, kiddo. After a good night’s sleep, you may not have all the answers, but you’ll feel much better.”

  “Thanks, Margaret.” Jo bent and kissed Margaret’s cheek. “Don’t think I’ll get much sleep, though.”

  “Why not? Don’t plan on dreaming about the reveal and her kiss?” Margaret waggled her eyebrows.

  “Nah, gonna beat myself up for feeling selfish with my problems.”

  “You aren't selfish. Why would you think that?”

  “Fiona’s issues are more important. After all, she’s—” Jo rushed to the door, paused. “Do you think Fiona will be okay?”

  Margaret went to her and enveloped her in a hug. “She’ll be fine, honey. Fiona is strong. More than that, she has us.” She flashed a wry grin at Jo. “We’re her best medicine, right?”

  Jo nodded. “You’ll keep me updated? Tell me what Edward shares with you on the matter?”

  “Of course.” When Jo went to her room, Margaret returned to the rocking chair. No matter the prognosis, Margaret would be by Fiona’s side, do whatever was needed. Fiona meant everything to her. But, after her phone conversation with Edward, the ball of dread, currently lodged in her heart, grew heavier.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The long drive from Pueblo to Aurora, outside of Denver, was mostly silent. Not that Margaret could fault Fiona. Her nerves were strained tighter than an over-tuned banjo string, prepared for the worse case, yet hoping for the best-case scenario. They were driving to the former Army Hospital 21, renamed in July 1920 to the Fitzsimons Army Hospital. The name honored Lt. William T. Fitzsimons, the first American medical officer to be killed in World War I.

  She’d managed to get the appointment with one of the premier neurologists with the assistance from her family doctor and friend, Edward Matthews, a couple days after her call to him. Margaret didn’t wish to frighten Fiona any more than she already was, but a feeling deep in her gut—especially after her latest conversation with Edward—warned this appointment might not go well in as far as prognosis.

  Margaret parked the truck in the nearest hospital parking lot and turned off the engine. She glanced at her watch, noting they’d arrived nearly forty-five minutes early. Neither made a move to exit the truck. “I’m sorry, honey. Knowing the diagnosis isn’t worth the strain on you.” She feared the outcome, and hesitated to go inside. The distance required for the drive and the unknown possibilities resulting from this appointment had placed stressful silence between them. “We should go home, forget about this, and take each day one at a time. We’ll call this a field trip or adventure for a day out.”

  “We’re here now,” Fiona said, the quiver in her voice indicated the depth of her terror. Margaret slid across the bench seat and clasped Fiona’s left hand in both of hers. Sighing, Fiona squeezed Margaret’s hand. “No, we need to know so that we can prepare ourselves and the family.”

  Margaret nodded. “Okay. We can relax over dinner when we get to the hotel.” She raised their combined hands and placed a kiss on Fiona’s exposed knuckles. “Or get room service and stay in.” Margaret waggled her eyebrows and received a partial smile from Fiona. “We haven’t been alone like this since we were first married. Of course, you were in a coma, so we weren’t alone then, either.” Fiona nodded as if further spoken words would put her over the edge. Margaret’s teasing didn't have the desired effect.

  They took their time to walk from the parking lot to the hospital. It was a beautiful day for May, warm and sunny with a slight breeze. Margaret hooked her arm around Fiona’s, steered them toward the back of the building as per where she’d been told to check-in, and slowed their steps to prolong their entry time. Fiona didn’t object, and the added steps in the outside air calmed them both.

  Calmed until they entered the hospital.

  Margaret expected to see sick and recovering patients, but what she found nearly had her yanking Fiona out of the building. Nearly. They’d entered a large open room painted completely white. The room’s multiple windows opened to allow the light breeze to circulate the inside air. There were numerous couches and armchairs placed around the room. Seven people, five men, and two women, sat staggered about the furniture, some in hospital gowns, others in street clothes. Each had some form of head trauma, leaving all or most sections of their heads shaved, ugly jagged scars present, some displayed sunken flesh where bone was removed or probably crushed due to an injury. Fiona stiffened, a small whimper escaped her tightly pursed lips.

  At the far end of the room was a closed doorway, and beside the door, a section of the wall cut out to provide a reception window. Margaret tugged Fiona toward reception, trying to block the sight and, in some cases, the tormented gazes following their progress. Most had a vacant expression. Two had drool puddling on the front of their chests.

  Her hand was poised to ring the bell sitting on the ledge when a large-boned, blonde woman appeared from behind a row of shelving with manila folders that Margaret assumed were medical files. “How may I help you?” Her nametag read: Schneider, G., and her uniform was nurse attire.

  “Um, yes, we have an appointment with Dr. Wedleby,” Margaret told her. “It’s for Fiona Cavanaugh.”

  Nurse Schneider glanced at them. “Which of you is the patient?”

  Fiona’s body trembled against her, where their arms joined, but she remained silent. “She is,” Margaret said.

  The nurse glanced at Fiona, reached a conclusion, and nodded. “Okay. Well, you’re early, but I can take you back and get you ready for your examination.” She glanced at Margaret. “You’re welcome to have a seat or come back in about two hours.”

  This time Fiona’s response was louder and Margaret loosened the arm holding Fiona’s, moved it to her waist, giving a supportive squeeze. “I’m not leaving he
r. If that’s a problem, tell me now, and we’ll both go.”

  “We only let immediate family members—”

  “I’m her sister-in-law,” Margaret said. She doubted the woman would appreciate it if she announced being the wife or significant other. It wasn’t like their bond was recognized since she’d married Fiona in her guise of Fionn ‘Finn’ Cavanaugh, her deceased brother. “Her brother Fionn, my husband, is unavailable. He died. If this isn’t sufficient to constitute immediate family…”

  Nurse Schneider raised a bushy blonde eyebrow and looked to Fiona for confirmation. “You have no problem with this?”

  “No. I want Margaret to assist with the explanations of my situation, and to hear what the doctor learns from the tests.” Fiona gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I don’t think I can do this on my own. I need her.” Margaret’s heart was ready to shatter, recognizing how much it took for Fiona to acknowledge weakness, let alone to a stranger.

  “Very well, then.” She moved away, then the door beside them opened, and she said, “Right this way.”

  Tessa quietly made her way into the shop, so she didn’t inadvertently startle Jo. Not that it would have mattered. Jo’s concentration appeared to be anywhere but on the task of sanding the display case in front of her. It took a moment before Jo’s vision shifted in recognition of her presence with a softly spoken, “Sorry.”

  “You okay?” Tessa asked.

  Jo shrugged and then scrubbed both hands across her face. “Yeah, preoccupied, I guess.”

  “Care to share?” she asked. “I can be a good listener, promise.”

  Jo managed a small smile. “I don’t doubt it. At least you haven’t been so far. A bad listener, that is.” She dropped the barely used sandpaper strip on the display’s top and clasped Tessa’s hand in one of her own, tugging Tessa with her onto the floor. They leaned back against the display case, Jo gently draped an arm over Tessa’s shoulder. Tessa allowed Jo to pull her into an embrace. She relished these moments in Jo’s arms, her cheek pressed against Jo’s chest.

  “This is between us?” Tessa nodded. “Fiona and Margaret left early this morning to see a brain specialist at Fitzsimons Army Hospital in Aurora.”

  “About her headaches and the bouts of blindness?”

  Tessa felt rather than saw Jo’s nod. “Much as I’m praying for a positive diagnosis, I find I can’t be too hopeful.” Jo pinched roughly at her nasal bridge with thumb and forefinger. Tessa wondered if Jo attempted to staunch the onslaught of tears. “It will kill Fiona to go blind permanently. She’ll think she can’t protect and care for us. Sometimes I want to yell at her to knock it off, but Fiona will see herself as a burden.”

  “Is that why you’re worried, because of Fiona’s feelings of self-worth? Well, lack of them, anyway.”

  “What if it’s worse than we imagine?” Jo asked. “It has me scared.”

  “When do they return?” Tessa asked. She placed a hand on Jo’s thigh and rubbed the pad of her thumb in small circles. Jo and Fiona weren’t blood sisters, but there was no denying the familial strength of their bond. A bond she found herself a bit jealous and a lot envious of, especially when thinking of Jo during the long hours that Tessa lay alone in bed at night. If she could keep Warren from interfering, Tessa hoped to be included in the Cavanaugh family unit. She loved, even if she didn’t respect, her brother. Tessa loved Jo even more. She’d found she had a stronger bond with these women than she ever did with her flesh and blood relations.

  “Tomorrow, sometime, barring anything we haven’t planned for in our discussions about this visit.” The statement caused Tessa to chuckle. Jo had explained some of the dynamics in their house. She wished for the same in her own, knew it would never happen.

  “The family night discussion?” she asked.

  Jo chuckled. “You probably think they’re corny, huh?”

  Tessa shook her head. “Quite the opposite, Jo. Knowing you all talk about stuff, then come to agreeable conclusions is wonderful. In my family, first with my parents and now Warren, I’m told how I should act and feel, what I will do for the sake of the family, like it or not.” She gave a weak smile. “I’d give anything to be part of a family like yours.”

  She felt the warmth of comfort and care as Jo’s hand covered hers. “You are part of our family, at least from the Cavanaugh side of the matter. You mean a lot to us, to me.”

  Twisting her hand, palm up, Tessa weaved her fingers between Jo’s. “Thank you, Jo, that makes me feel nice inside.” Jo gave a quick squeeze of their joined hands. She hoped Jo didn’t just say the words to make her feel better. There was such comfort in her mind, her body, and her heart when she was in the presence of Jo. When Tessa wasn’t with her, thoughts of their time together, even the silent moments, brought peace to Tessa. However, as mature as she tried to be, Tessa’s head couldn’t get away from one nagging question: Why?

  “Why what?” Jo asked.

  Tessa hadn’t realized she posed the question aloud. “Nothing,” she said, shaking her head and pasting on a smile. She could feel the smile was awkward, fake, by the stiffness.

  Jo must have realized it, too. She shifted, stared directly at her, Jo’s expression serious. “Please don’t do that to us, Tessa. Don’t let us keep secrets, even if we think we’re protecting each other. Fiona tried to protect Margaret from worry by not telling her the truth. It hurt Margaret more, even if Fiona hadn’t intended her silence in that way.” Jo frowned, then looked startled. “Um, you know how I feel about you, right? You know I treasure our relationship as more than simply a girlfriend?” Tessa felt Jo’s body go rigid, right before she tried to pull her hand free. “Oh, golly, what have I—”

  Tessa squeezed their joined hand, used her other to latch on to Jo’s elbow, and pull her body back against her. “Stop, Jo, please.” Tessa breathed in deeply, slowly expelling the breath. “You’ve been in my heart and my head since your first hello and introduction. I know most people believe we’re wrong to feel the way I feel for you, another woman, especially after such a short time, but I can’t stop my heart. I want us to be together for all time.”

  “Then, I don’t understand your question. Tessa, I want what Fiona and Margaret have with one another, even if they can’t announce it like most people in love. And I don’t care for the secrecy that involves, but we can live in a cave if it means I spend the rest of my life with you. Yes, we barely know anything about each other, but I want to learn everything. We haven’t known one another for very long, know I’m still considered a kid, but I believe my heart and my heart wants you.”

  Tessa felt the tears building. “I want you, too. It’s just that…” After Jo’s announcement, Tessa’s fears felt so stupid but unavoidable. Mentioning it now would belittle her in Jo’s eyes, wouldn’t it?

  “No secrets and no fears, Tessa.”

  Focusing on their clasped hand, Tessa said, “I don’t understand what you see in me.” She didn’t want to see whatever expression the comment generated.

  Jo was silent for such a long time, Tessa couldn’t help herself. The tension of waiting for a response was tight in her chest like a fist squeezing her heart. Against her better judgment, she lifted her gaze to Jo’s face. Jo’s expression was honest confusion, a puzzle she was giving her best to solve.

  After what seemed forever, but probably less than a minute, Jo asked, “What don’t I see in you? You have a quiet, patient soul. You’re tender, talented, beautiful,” Jo quirked a corner of her lip. “You have pretty good taste in women. How you’re single, I don’t understand, but no complaining if it means I get to spend time with you.”

  The words, spoken with passion, even a touch of teasing, warmed Tessa’s cheeks. How could she be any less honest? “You’re the beautiful one, Jo. Anyone, man or woman, would love to have you interested in them. I’m homely and destined to be a spinster.”

  “That’s where I’m confused, honey.” Jo pulled Tessa against her chest. “My eyes, m
y heart, see only beauty when regarding you. Maybe others, even you, don’t understand what I see, but isn’t my opinion and, believe it or not, judgment, important to you too?”

  “Thank you for liking what you see, Jo. Guess I’m a dope, forcing a compliment to make me feel better.” Tessa could tell Jo meant them from her tone, even if Tessa didn’t believe them toward herself.

  Tessa felt the vibrating rumble of contained laughter in Jo’s chest before she released it in a hearty laugh. “Is that what was happening? Fishing for a compliment? I thought this was about distracting me from worry over Fiona. No matter, it worked.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Three days had passed since the dinner with Warren when Tessa heard the noise from the outside stairwell. She might otherwise have missed the sound if she weren’t still awake with worry for Jo, Margaret, and Fiona, replaying in her head. There the sound was again. The rattle as if someone were trying to get the door open. Her heart thudded in her chest with panic.

  Someone was trying to break into her home. Was it the same person murdering women in Pueblo? Her first thought should have been to call her brother or to call the police. She hadn’t realized who she dialed until the sleep-heavy voice of Jo answered, “Hello?”

  “Jo, someone is trying to break in,” she whispered into the receiver.

  “Tessa? Okay, honey, I’m coming. The new lock should hold until I get there but find somewhere to hide until I arrive.” When nothing else was said, Tessa realized Jo had hung up.

  Quiet as she could, and careful not to move too quickly and announce her location, Tessa made her way to the bedroom, grabbed a hat pin off the dresser, and crammed herself as far back into the armoire as she could squeeze, and then closed the door.

  Tessa had no idea how long she waited or what she waited for, other than to hear Jo’s reassuring voice. But she couldn’t hear anything. Hidden away, time, and sound shut off from her. She wondered if she should open the armoire door to check if the intruder had left, but fear had her worried that she’d walk right into the arms of a killer.