Out of the Shadows

by Melanie Mitchell

  Although the main room was simply furnished, it was surprisingly homey and comfortable. The walls were painted the same beige as the outside of the house, and muslin curtains hung at the windows. Two oscillating fans sat on the floor next to open windows and helped cool the room. A laptop computer sat open on the table; several stacks of paper rested on either side of it. The most surprising feature of the room, however, was the shelves of books that lined much of one wall.

  Ben watched Leslie as she looked around, and he was relieved when he saw approval in her expression. He held out his hand to take the plate. “Thanks for the cookies. It was very nice of you to go to all the trouble to bring them out here....”

  His words trailed off. He felt disadvantaged, not really certain how she would respond to him after their last encounter. Awkwardly, he just stood in the center of the room holding the plate of cookies and trying to think of something to say. He chided himself for his inane inability to carry on a simple conversation with her.

  To break the silence, Leslie said, “The other morning you left without giving me the opportunity to thank you again.” She moved past him to the shelves; her back was to him. Scanning the titles of books, she continued, “Ben, we both know that twice now you could have...um...well, taken advantage of me. And you didn’t.” She turned to face him. His stance suggested that he was highly alert. “Ben, I...”

  She stopped, suddenly distracted. For once he didn’t have his usual disheveled look about him, and he had obviously just shaved. Also, this was the first time she had seen him when his hair was not tied back. Down, his gold-streaked hair just skimmed his shoulders and was very thick. She found herself wanting to run her fingers through it, and she was alarmed by the intensity of her reaction. She felt her face redden, and her heart was thumping so hard she was afraid it was audible. Self-consciously, Leslie focused on his lips, idly wondering why she had never noticed how full and expressive they were.

  “I really...don’t know what I was going to say,” was all she could manage.

  He replied with exaggerated gallantry. “It was my pleasure, ma’am. I always try to keep ice cream handy in order to aid damsels in distress.”

  She gave a slight laugh but wasn’t ready to abandon her quest. Deciding to be blunt, she looked down at her hands and asked, “Ben, why did you leave like that and not come back? Was it something I did?”

  He set the cookies on a small table and took her hand. He led her to the cushioned bench and when she was seated, he pulled the rocker forward and sat facing her.

  “Les,” he began. “I’m sorry if you were upset by my leaving early the other morning. And no, it wasn’t anything you did or anything you didn’t do.” His expression was earnest. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure what time people start coming to the clinic, and I wanted to leave while it was still dark, before anyone showed up and saw my Jeep.” He shrugged. “I didn’t want to start any rumors.”

  Ben’s concern for her reputation surprised Leslie, causing her to chew her lip and blink rapidly to hold back tears. When she didn’t respond, Ben continued. “I had to fly out unexpectedly that morning, and I just got back or I would’ve already come by to check on you.” He flashed the half grin that she had first characterized as obnoxious but was now beginning to think of as charming. “Actually, you caught me getting ready. I was planning to drop by this evening.” He stood and walked toward the kitchen, talking as he went. “I even had a mission.”

  He returned carrying a small cardboard box tied with a red ribbon, which he handed to her. The box was heavy. She placed it on her lap and looked up at him with her expression slightly wary. “What’s in it?”

  “Open it.”

  She untied the ribbon, lifted the lid and gave a cry of surprise. Inside were six jars of peanut butter of various brands and sizes.

  “While I was in Nairobi, I stopped at one of the better grocery stores. I didn’t know what kind of peanut butter you like, so I bought a jar of each brand they had. Most were imported from the U.S., but there is one from Germany and one from England. I’ve eaten some of the English peanut butter before and wouldn’t recommend it though.”

  Leslie stared at the box on her lap, struggling again to keep her tears in check. She looked up and saw an expression of sweetness she would have previously thought him incapable of displaying. Her heart missed a beat, and she fumbled out a quiet “Thank you.”

  Ben was uncomfortable with tears. Trying to lighten the mood, he headed for the kitchen. “You know, I haven’t eaten since this morning, and I’m starved. How about some cookies? I have some milk in my refrigerator and several fairly cold cans of Coke. What can I get you?”

  Relieved that he’d changed the subject, she followed his lead. “Yes, cookies sound great. I think I’ll take a Coke. I still can’t drink the milk.”

  He chuckled. “I understand. Believe it or not, I prefer the boiled, raw milk here to the processed stuff back in the States.”

  While he was retrieving the drinks, Leslie examined Ben’s amazing collection of books. From the titles she discerned that he had a passion for history, particularly military history and anything related to aircraft and flying.

  “You have a really eclectic book collection. Where did you get them all?” She pitched her voice so that the words would carry into the kitchen.

  “Oh, here and there,” he called back. “I brought quite a few with me when I came here, but most I’ve just picked up over the years.”

  She moved to the computer and saw that the papers were some sort of writing project. “What are you working on?”

  He had returned from the kitchen carrying two glasses and small cloth napkins.

  “Oh, that... Well... Here.” He handed her a glass of cola and picked up the plate of cookies. Uncovering it, he passed it to her, then snagged one for himself and took a bite. “Well, wow. Great cookie! I haven’t had one of these in ages. Here, sit down.” He pointed to a chair and, after she was seated, he plopped down on the edge of the cot and sipped milk.

  Not willing to be distracted, she persisted. “Are you writing something?”

  She got the impression that he would’ve preferred to hide the papers and shut the laptop. “Uh, yeah.” He took another bite of cookie.

  “Okay...what?” Her tone suggested that she wasn’t going to let the subject drop.

  He fidgeted with his cookie. “Hmm...well, you see...”

  “Tell me!” she insisted, grinning at his discomfiture.

  He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Okay. But you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

  “I promise. Cross my heart.” She continued to grin.

  He sighed again and said under his breath, “It’s my doctoral dissertation.”

  She blinked and leaned forward. “Your dissertation?” She could not have possibly heard correctly.

  He rubbed his forehead and nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Your dissertation?” she repeated. “You’re getting a PhD?” Her tone was incredulous.

  “Yeah, I am,” he huffed. “And you promised not to tell anyone.”

  She responded with a puzzled frown. “You’re kidding, right?”

  He sighed a third time and reached across to the table to pick up a stack of papers. The pages had been lying facedown, and when he turned them over, he took the top one and handed it to her. She read,

  “Development and Application of

  Aerial Reconnaissance and Surveillance

  Throughout the Twentieth Century”

  A Dissertation

  By

  H. Bennett Murphy

  Submitted in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy

  Department of History

  Graduate School of Arts and Sciences

  Georgetown University, Washington, D.C.

&nb
sp; Leslie read the title page again. She blinked and looked up at Ben, who was watching her with an odd expression. A hundred questions and comments popped into her mind. She went with the most pedantic. “Bennett? I assumed your name was Benjamin.”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, most people do. Bennett’s a family name.”

  “Oh.” She read the page a third time and then looked back at him. “So what does the H stand for?”

  His lips quavered as he struggled to keep from smiling. He shook his head. “Nope. Not telling.”

  “What? Come on. You’ve gone this far.”

  He actually grinned before removing all expression from his face. He gave an exaggerated sigh and answered, “Okay—Herman. And if you ever tell anyone, I will find you.”

  She bit her lip to keep from giggling, but the effort failed. “Herman? Your parents actually named you Herman?”

  Feigning vexation, he repeated, “It’s a family name.” He chuckled then; his green eyes were shining.

  She gave up trying to control her reaction and burst out laughing. Ben’s stomach clenched at the sound, and his own smile vanished. The room seemed to close around them, and he sat mesmerized. He absorbed her laughter and watched the mirth in her beautiful eyes—he couldn’t imagine ever growing tired of it. He ached with the need to make her smile, to make her laugh, to keep her happy.

  The sudden seriousness in Ben’s expression confused Leslie, and she sobered. “Oh, Ben, I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have teased you. It’s just that...well...” Guiltily, she tried to stifle her mirth. She shook her head in disbelief. “You just don’t look like a Herman.”

  “Honey, for the record, I’ve never forgiven my parents.”

  Leslie took a sip of her Coke. “So tell me about the PhD.”

  He shrugged and finished off his second cookie before explaining. “I think I mentioned that I started graduate school when my wife and I moved to Washington. I had pretty much finished my coursework when we divorced.” He picked up his glass and swallowed the remains. He hesitated a bit, then added, “Then there were some problems with my commission. The air force and I parted company, and I ended up here. By that time, I was starting the dissertation. It’s pretty much complete now. I’m just doing final edits.”

  “Well, wow. I’m impressed. So you’ll be Dr. Murphy... Dr. Herman Murphy.” She smiled. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist.”

  He was compelled to touch her then, but he settled for just taking her hand. His heart quickened when her fingers laced with his. They sat for a few minutes without saying anything, and then Ben broke the silence. “Les, I was serious. I need you to keep this a secret. I know my request sounds odd, but it’s important.”

  “Why? I think it’s fun and interesting.” She smiled at him again. “For goodness’ sake, Ben, it’s impressive!”

  Not wanting to spoil the mood, he attempted to joke his way through the issue. “Hey, if word got out, it would ruin my street cred.”

  “Your street cred?” She looked puzzled.

  “You know—my credibility. How I’m perceived.”

  “This is about your reputation?” Her smile vanished.

  He felt another twisting in his gut when he realized she was disappointed in him. His enjoyment of the discussion vanished, deflating like a burst balloon. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth. Once again, he buried the emotions that were threatening to erupt with increasing regularity. His voice carried an edge when he answered, “Yes. It’s important that I maintain my reputation.”

  Leslie looked at their joined hands and nodded. “Okay. I understand.” Her eyes rose to meet his. “It’s no problem, Ben. I can keep your secret.” She gently squeezed his hand and then let go. She rose and walked to the bookcases, appearing to study the titles. “Do you have any fiction?”

  He managed to cover his own disappointment and gestured to one of the bookcases. “That’s the fiction. You’re welcome to borrow anything.”

  She went to the spot he had indicated and discovered an eclectic collection. Charles Dickens, Herman Melville and Mark Twain were interspersed with books by Tom Clancy, Michael Crichton and Stephen King. “Where’s the romance section?” she inquired, trying to recover the light mood.

  He reached past her and pulled out a copy of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. “This is it...the whole romance section.” He grinned. “And for the record, I have read it.”

  She chuckled softly and took the book from him, laying it aside after caressing the spine for a moment. She pulled out what appeared to be a very early edition of The Great Gatsby and flipped through it before replacing it on the shelf. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer. About all I have to read at the clinic are an excellent collection of medical and nursing books and some of Mama Joe’s books on missiology. They’re nice for reference, but not particularly entertaining.” She indicated the books with her hand. “Other than Pride and Prejudice, do you have recommendations?”

  With that prompting, Ben proceeded to pull out several books and place them on the table in front of Leslie. He briefly explained the plots of a couple she was not familiar with and teasingly chastised her for not having read some of the classics.

  Leslie glanced outside and noticed the position of the afternoon sun. “I should get back to the clinic in case anyone comes in later.” She picked up the selection of books, and Ben followed her to the door carrying the peanut butter. The pair stood looking at each other for a heartbeat before Leslie put her free hand on his shoulder. Standing on tiptoe, she kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Thank you for a lovely visit. It was one of my most enjoyable since I came to Kenya... And Ben,” she said, continuing to look at him steadily, “thank you again for being there for me during the hard times.”

  Although he tried to refrain from reaching out to her, he could not keep his hand from caressing her hair. “Leslie...”

  Instead of verbalizing his thoughts, he leaned down to gently touch her lips with his. It was not a passionate or demanding kiss, but its simplicity, coupled with the longing in his eyes, was devastatingly effective in melting her final resistance. She had been attracted to him for a long while—probably from the very beginning—and finally acknowledged that the attraction had grown to something warm and enticing. But, in the recesses of her mind, she feared giving in to the feelings. She was afraid to love, and she was even more fearful of loving Ben.

  He pulled back and grinned at her. “Next time I’ll expect peanut-butter cookies.”

  His teasing words allowed her to put aside her pensive musings, and she managed an easy smile. “You’ve got a deal.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  DURING THE NEXT few weeks, Ben and Leslie saw each other fairly regularly. Sometimes Ben would stop at the clinic in the early evening and stay for supper. One day they went to the Merdians’ for dinner, enjoying time with the active family.

  Another day, they took an afternoon and drove through the great Tsavo wildlife park, spending hours watching the herds of elephant, Cape buffalo and zebra. Ben spotted a small pride of lions in the tall grass, and the great cats did not stir even though he drove within twenty feet of them. For a long while, they watched rambunctious cubs rolling over tolerant mothers who lounged in the tall grass, completely ignoring the pair in the Jeep.

  On the third Sunday in May, as was her habit, Leslie went to church. She sat near the front and, trying not to be obvious, she occasionally turned her head to look through the sea of faces, hoping to spot Ben. She’d learned that he always came to the service when he was in town, but he routinely arrived late and left early, standing at the rear of the structure to avoid attracting attention. That Sunday she didn’t spot him so she was surprised to find him waiting for her.

  He caught her arm as she walked out of the tent into the bright sunshine. His gaze swept over her as he pulled her to one side
. She was wearing a simple, pale blue cotton dress that buttoned in the front from the conservative neckline nearly to her ankles. At the sides were thin ribbons that tied in the back, accentuating the smallness of her waist. A large tortoiseshell clip held her wavy brown hair on top of her head. She looked softly radiant.

  “Hi,” she said, smiling up at him. “I looked for you inside.”

  He smiled back. “I was in the far corner—trying to keep a low profile.”

  Her smile faded at his quip, and she said, “Oh. I see.” The more involved Leslie became with Ben, the more troubled she grew. His persistence in maintaining his hard-drinking, womanizing, ne’er-do-well persona goaded her—and because of it, she couldn’t completely trust him.

  A brief look of something that appeared to be pain flickered across his face, and she saw his jaw twitch. The moment passed, and he reached out to touch her hand. “Look, Leslie, I have an errand to run in Mombasa. If you’re not busy, I was wondering if you would come with me.”

  She looked at his hand lightly holding hers. Despite her concerns, she was drawn to him by a force that was becoming impossible to resist. Her cautious nature—coupled with her ongoing worry about his activities—warred with her desire to be with him. She sighed inwardly as her better judgment lost the battle. “I’ve not been to Mombasa yet. I can’t be gone long, though.”

  “It’s just for the afternoon. The flight is only about an hour and a half. We can have a late lunch at one of the nice hotels, and I’ll have you back by dusk, I promise.”

  There was nothing Leslie needed to do at the clinic, and she’d been dreading being alone. Flying to the coastal city for a few hours would be a fun way to spend the afternoon. Besides, she reluctantly acknowledged, she could spend the rest of the day with Ben.