Backlash

by Traci Hunter Abramson

  “Maybe I should leave you to get some rest.” She looked away, even though she knew he had already seen the hurt in her eyes. “I need to figure out where I’m staying tonight.”

  “Excuse me for interrupting,” a young nurse spoke hesitantly from the doorway. “Senator Whitmore is here to see you.”

  “You can send him in,” Kel told her.

  Marilyn turned back to face Kel, her mind reeling. Why would a senator be visiting her husband?

  The tall man stepped through the doorway. His hair was more silver than gold, his blue eyes direct as he nodded to her. “You must be Marilyn. I’m Jim Whitmore.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Marilyn managed. A senator was visiting her husband and knew her name? Stunned, she moved aside so the senator could come farther into the room.

  “How’s our patient?”

  “I’ll live,” Kel said simply. He hesitantly glanced at Marilyn and then asked, “Do you have any news for me?”

  “Nothing yet,” Jim told him. “I should know more tomorrow.”

  Kel nodded, seeming to accept that he would have to wait for whatever information he thought the senator could give him.

  “Tell me what the doctors have told you,” the senator insisted. Then he listened as Kel gave him the highlights—a week or two in the hospital and another month in rehab followed by intensive physical therapy. Finally, Jim turned to Marilyn. “Did I hear you say you needed a place to stay?”

  “One of the men who brought me up here said they could probably get me a hotel nearby for at least a couple of days.”

  “You’re welcome to stay with me and my wife. Our house is over the border in Virginia, but it’s only about a twenty-minute drive.”

  Marilyn immediately shook her head. “I couldn’t impose like that.”

  “It wouldn’t be an imposition,” Jim insisted. “I assume you will want to stay in the area while your husband is recovering. Or do you have a job you have to get back to?”

  “She works from home,” Kel told the senator. His eyes met Marilyn’s, and she could see the need there. “I’m sure if she could get her computer from the house, she could work up here—that is, if she even wants to keep working.”

  Kel had mentioned this before, the fact that she didn’t need to work. Marilyn had never told him that she had already cut back from four days a week to two. While she was tempted to free herself of that burden once and for all, she wasn’t sure she was willing to give up the extra income or the excuse her work gave her to be on her computer. “I don’t know . . .”

  “Either way, we can have someone go by your house and pick up your computer and some clothes for you,” Jim suggested.

  Someone else go through her things? Without her there? She shook her head. “That’s okay. I would need to pick up my car anyway.”

  “Honey, I know you have to be exhausted,” Kel said softly. “Why don’t you go home with the senator and spend the night. Then tomorrow we’ll have someone take you down to Virginia Beach, and you can pack up whatever you need.”

  She found herself nodding, too overwhelmed to do anything else. “I guess that would work.”

  “Good.” The senator reached over and shook Kel’s hand before turning to Marilyn. “I’ll give you a few minutes alone. I’ll be waiting in the hall when you’re ready to leave.”

  “Thank you,” Marilyn said, pleased to see that he had closed the door behind him. Then she turned to Kel. “Why did you do that?”

  “Do what?” Kel asked.

  “I can’t possibly stay with someone I don’t know for six weeks, maybe more.”

  “Come here.” Kel reached for her and took her hand as soon as it was in reach. “I don’t know if I can get through this without you, and I don’t want you to have to stay in some dinky hotel room for weeks on end.”

  “But . . .”

  “The senator’s house is huge. You won’t bother them, and I’m sure they won’t bother you.” Kel’s voice became persuasive. “Please, Marilyn. I really want you here.”

  She stared down at him, surprised to see the sincerity there. Feeling truly needed for the first time in her marriage, she nodded. “All right. I’ll give it a try.”

  2

  Kel’s comment repeated itself over and over in her mind as Marilyn sat beside the senator in his car. The senator’s house is huge. How did Kel know what the senator’s house looked like? You won’t bother them, and I’m sure they won’t bother you. The way he had spoken suggested that Kel knew the man sitting beside her well, and she had no idea why. And even more, why had he visited the senator regularly, and why had he never invited her to come?

  “It must be hard seeing your husband lying in that hospital bed,” Jim Whitmore said after driving for several minutes in silence.

  Marilyn nodded, remembering too vividly the rush of emotions she’d experienced when she’d seen the two men approaching her front door. “I’m so glad it wasn’t any worse.”

  “Me, too,” Jim nodded. “From what I understand, my son-in-law was standing next to Kel when he was shot.”

  “Your son-in-law?”

  “Brent Miller.” Jim glanced over at her quizzically. “I assume you know my daughter, Amy.”

  Marilyn nodded slowly. She knew Amy Miller, the Saint Squad’s intelligence officer. But how was it that no one had ever mentioned that Amy was Senator Whitmore’s daughter? Especially since they lived in Virginia, the senator’s home state. Granted, she didn’t spend a lot of time with the other members of Kel’s unit. Being around them always made her uncomfortable and even a little jealous. No matter how much time Kel spent with her when he was home, she always felt like his squad was more important to Kel than she was.

  She tried to push those thoughts aside. “I didn’t think to ask before. How is your wife going to feel about you showing up with a houseguest?”

  “Grateful.”

  “Huh?”

  Jim smiled at her. “Life gets pretty crazy from now until Congress breaks in August. I called to let her know I was bringing you home. She said that she’s looking forward to having someone around the house for a change.” He slowed the car as he approached a stoplight. “Amy is supposed to be arriving sometime tonight or tomorrow, but I don’t expect to see her much while she’s in town.”

  “Amy’s coming?” Marilyn asked, a new crest of unease rising up inside her. She liked Amy well enough, but she found it difficult to really connect with a woman who spent more hours with her husband every day than she did, a woman who understood what her husband did when he was away from home, an understanding that she couldn’t claim for herself.

  “Last I heard. Of course, with her profession, we never really believe she’s coming until she’s standing in front of us,” Jim said lightheartedly. “You know what that’s like.”

  Marilyn simply nodded. She couldn’t count the number of times Kel had shipped out at a moment’s notice, always a different variation of the same story. Their conversations on each of those occasions could have been recorded and simply replayed.

  Can you tell me where you’re going or how long you’ll be gone? she would always ask. His response was always the same. I’m sorry, hon. You know I can’t tell you, even when I do know. Then he would hug her and kiss her good-bye, promising to call or e-mail as soon as he could. “As soon as he could” was sometimes an hour later. Other times weeks went by before she heard from him. A few times it was even longer.

  Marilyn’s thoughts were interrupted when the senator slowed and pulled between two of the oak trees that lined an oversized, grassy lawn. The driveway curved around in front of the enormous house, but the senator pressed the garage door opener and continued straight into the three-car garage. A sporty little coupe was parked on one side of them, and an older SUV was parked in the spot nearest the door that appeared to lead into the house.

  “Come on inside,” Jim said as he climbed out of the car and headed for the door.

  Marilyn followed, her hand tightly gripp
ing the strap of her purse. Not for the first time, she wished she had taken the time to change out of her baggy khakis and simple T-shirt before going to the hospital. She stepped onto the tile floor of the enormous kitchen. Standing in front of the stove was a striking woman, her dark hair swept back from her face with a barrette that gathered it at the base of her neck.

  “You’re home.” Her smile was genuine and welcoming as she leaned forward to kiss her husband. She then turned to look at Marilyn, who awkwardly closed the door behind her. “And you brought me company.”

  “Katherine, meet our new houseguest,” Jim told his wife. “This is Kel’s wife, Marilyn.”

  “Welcome. I am so glad to hear Kel is okay.” Katherine turned the stove down and then crossed to where Marilyn stood just inside the door. “You must be exhausted. Let me show you your room and give you the lay of the land before dinner.”

  “I feel so bad to be imposing like this,” Marilyn managed, as Katherine swept her out of the kitchen and started through a living room that was the size of a small apartment.

  “Don’t be silly.” Katherine waved away her concerns as effortlessly as her husband had done at the hospital. “We have plenty of room, especially now that the kids are all out of the house. Besides, I love to cook, and I hate to eat alone. Hopefully your schedule will work out that you’ll be home for dinner every once in a while.”

  Marilyn followed Katherine into the front entryway where a large picture of the Washington D.C. Temple hung on the wall facing the front door. They moved past the stairs and what appeared to be Jim’s study as they entered a long hallway. Finally, Katherine opened a door at the end of the hall.

  “If this room doesn’t suit you, you can take one of the upstairs bedrooms, but I thought you would like your privacy,” Katherine told her. “It’s always a bit awkward at first staying with someone when you’re used to living on your own.”

  Marilyn felt a little wave of relief and nodded. She stepped inside the room, barely managing to keep her jaw from dropping open. An antique four-poster bed filled the center of the room. A loveseat was angled in the corner near the window, a small desk occupying the space opposite of it. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

  “The bathroom is through there.” Katherine waved to the door on the right and then nodded at the slim laptop on the desk. “You’re welcome to use the laptop there. It has Internet access and the basics. Our son Charlie left it here when he got a new one last year. If you have your own, we can move it out of your way.”

  “No, this is perfect,” Marilyn said, offering Katherine a small smile. “Really.”

  “Well, I’ll let you get settled in while I go finish fixing dinner,” Katherine told her. “And like I said, please make yourself at home.”

  * * *

  Kel stared at the television screen, waiting for the next segment of the news to come on. He hated not knowing what was happening. He hated knowing that if he did get any information off of the news about the impending terrorist attack, it would mean his squad had failed.

  Shifting in his hospital bed, Kel absorbed the pain that shot through his leg and took a deep breath to steady himself. He still couldn’t believe that he was here, wounded. He had gone over the mission in his mind so many times, trying to figure out what he had done wrong and what he could have done to avoid the bullet that had put him here.

  The mission into Nicaragua had been risky, but this wasn’t the first time he had been on a mission that was a little dubious in nature. Everything had gone perfectly until the gunfire had started, until Seth and Vanessa had been unable to slip out of the fortress undetected. Still, his squad had reacted quickly, and they had succeeded in accomplishing their mission. But now his squad was out there fighting to protect their country without him.

  He closed his eyes, panic enveloping him as he considered what it would be like to have to stay out of the action for long, to not know what was happening or what threat was taking place that he might have been able to stop. Please don’t let this end my career, he prayed silently.

  Unwilling to let the doubts take over, he pushed that thought aside and watched the news headlines come on. It only took a few minutes for Kel to realize that the terrorist attack he was worried about wasn’t yet public knowledge. If everything went the way he hoped, the public would never know about the threat in Arizona or the possibility of the nuclear power plant located there turning into a nuclear weapon.

  He trusted his men implicitly, and he prayed that they would be able to do their job well enough to avoid disaster.

  The elite five-man unit from SEAL Team Eight, known as the Saint Squad, had been under his command for the past five years. Their nickname had come from the fact that all of the members of his squad belonged to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. They were an oddity in the teams, both in how they lived and in how they fought. Yet, everyone knew that their unit was special in ways no one could quite define.

  Kel could rattle off the Saint Squad’s impressive success rate, but the numbers wouldn’t matter if they failed when it counted most. A successful attack on the nuclear power plant outside Phoenix would likely affect the entire western United States. He prayed that his men would be inspired and somehow manage to put a stop to Akil Ramir’s plans.

  He was pretty sure that if Marilyn hadn’t been present when the senator arrived, he could have gotten an update. As it turned out, he had been unwilling to risk upsetting his wife to get the information he so desperately wanted.

  Kel rubbed a hand over his face, wishing he understood his wife. He thought of the first time he’d met her, the way he had asked her to dance on a whim. She had seemed a bit out of place, like she wasn’t quite sure what to do around so many people. Perhaps he had been drawn to her because he knew what it was like to feel vulnerable.

  He hadn’t expected to dance with her for the rest of the night, but once they had started talking, he hadn’t wanted to stop. Marilyn understood him in a way no one had before, at least not since he had lost his family. She was sensitive, humble, and unassuming. He appreciated her natural beauty and the fact that she wasn’t constantly worrying about fixing her makeup or messing with her hair.

  While they were dating, he felt a void being filled, a void he hadn’t fully recognized before. The only difficulty he had encountered during their courtship was when he had met Marilyn’s mother, Barbara. He could still remember that first meeting.

  “So you’re in the navy?” she had asked in a voice that was sugar coated and shallow.

  “That’s right, ma’am. I’m a Navy SEAL.”

  She had looked over at her daughter, bitterness tainting her words. “Well, I suppose someone has to do those jobs.”

  Marilyn had been embarrassed by her mother’s comment and the subtle and not-so-subtle insults that had followed. Clearly still hurting from losing her husband many years before, Barbara made sure Marilyn knew she didn’t approve of her dating anyone who chose to face danger as a regular part of their job. So accustomed to her daughter following her advice, Barbara had seemed genuinely surprised when Marilyn had defied her and decided to marry Kel anyway.

  Despite Barbara’s obvious disapproval, everything had been great between Kel and Marilyn while they were dating and after they were first married. He had taken her to the temple, and they were active in church, but somehow the perfect life they dreamed of always seemed to be just out of reach. The children he had expected to bless their lives had never come, and their hope for a family of their own continued to dim as time passed.

  Although the constant separations had been difficult on both of them, especially on Marilyn, Kel could appreciate that they were both willing to fight through the challenges to preserve their marriage. Marilyn had trained as a legal transcriptionist so that she could work at home. Her job gave her the flexibility to take her work with her when she was able to accompany him on temporary assignments. Those assignments didn’t happen often, but when they did, Kel often felt like he was
able to see glimpses of the woman he’d married, the woman willing to go out with him and look for adventure.

  A knock came at the door a second before it opened. Kel glanced toward the door, expecting to see an orderly with his dinner. Instead, it was the doctor who walked into his room. “I just got off of the phone with a young woman asking about you.” The doctor looked at him quizzically. “Amy Miller?”

  “And?”

  “She said to tell you that she’s coming home and that your boys are going fishing,” Dr. Pollard told him. “Do you know why she insisted I tell you this right away?”

  Kel nodded. He understood perfectly. Amy coming home meant that she was coming to work at CIA headquarters, which was practically down the street from her parents’ house in Virginia. His boys “going fishing” translated to the rest of his squad going to Arizona in search of the mole who was feeding information to the terrorists they were currently trying to stop. Keeping his face solemn, he told the doctor, “Thanks for the message. I really appreciate it.”

  “Get some rest,” Dr. Pollard said now. “Tomorrow we’ll see if we can get you up and moving.”

  “I’ll try,” Kel agreed, though he didn’t know how he was supposed to sleep when he should be working beside the rest of his team.

  3

  Marilyn sat down at the round table in the kitchen, grateful that Katherine Whitmore had chosen to eat here rather than in the massive dining room around the corner. Jim had been on a business call in the study when she had emerged from her room and made her way back to the kitchen, but right after she came in, Jim followed.

  She wasn’t sure exactly what she expected, but when she saw the simple meal Katherine had prepared—meatloaf and mashed potatoes—she was pleasantly surprised. She thought that a senator would expect fancier fare than this. Then again, she supposed she would have expected the Whitmores to keep a household staff rather than to see Katherine fixing her own meals.

  They all sat down to eat, Jim blessed the food, and immediately Marilyn felt the awkwardness surfacing. She hated it, this difficulty she had always struggled with to make conversation with people. Taking a little breath, she forced herself to ask one of the many questions that had been building up inside of her. “I never thought to ask how you met my husband.”