Promises to Keep

by Kathryn Shay

  “You want to come in?” She scanned him up and down. “You look different.” He wore jeans with an L.L. Bean jacket, a green sweatshirt underneath, and boots.

  Stepping inside, he said, “I’m going out of town.” He glanced over her shoulder at a pretty starburst teak clock on the far wall. “I was waiting for you to get home, to see if you were all right, before I left.”

  “You’re leaving town?” Her voice quavered. The small show of anxiety made his gut clench.

  “For the weekend. It’s been planned a while. It’s personal.”

  Her arms banded around her waist. “Oh.”

  His hands fisted. “Ludzecky will check up on you.” He looked into the dark house. “Josh out for the night?”

  “Josh went skiing with Heather’s family for the weekend.”

  “What? I talked with him about sticking close to home.”

  Releasing a heavy breath, she shrugged. “I know. I forced the issue. He’d had this ski trip planned for a long time, and was going to let him cancel.”

  “I don’t like you being alone here with Webster on the loose.”

  Her eyes widened. “Do you think I’m in danger?”

  Unzipping his jacket, he said, “I don’t know what to think anymore.” He nodded to a kitchen chair. “May I?”

  “Yes, of course.” She darted a glance at the stove. “Would you like something before you leave? Coffee, maybe?”

  His grin was brief. “I haven’t had hot chocolate in a while.”

  She smiled, then turned, crossed to the box, and bent over to pick it up. Her beige skirt was calf-length, and she wore it with boots and a matching sweater, but the action made his blood pump faster just the same. Returning to the table, she handed him the box. “If you’ll open it, I’ll heat the milk.”

  He removed his coat while she poured milk into a pan. He took a spoon, which lay on the table, and pried open the top of the box. “See, Secret Service agents are good for something.”

  Glancing over her shoulder, she gave him a wry look. “I’m sorry about what I said today.”

  “Which part? That we were bumbling idiots or that we were total incompetents if we couldn’t even protect your teachers?”

  Her face was flushed from the heat of the stove. And from embarrassment, he guessed. “Both. I was upset about Kelsey.”

  Kelsey again. She was so close to the girl. No wonder she was so upset.

  He brought her the chocolate. The milk smelled sweet, and made him remember fixing the drink for Josie when she was little and couldn’t sleep. He set the box down and turned away to squelch the memory of all he’d lost.

  “Kelsey’s okay,” Suzanna said.

  Joe crossed to the doors and, sticking his hands into his back pockets, stared out at the yard. Light snowflakes danced in the wind. “Yes, I know. I called her after you left her house.”

  “You called her?”

  “As a counselor checking up on his colleague.” He shook his head. “Ludzecky was like a caged tiger when he got home. He wanted to storm right over there and see how she was. I calmed him down, then called to see how she was doing.” Joe shook his head. “She asked if she could talk to him. She’s something else.”

  Still stirring, Suzanna sighed. “I know she was worried about his reaction. She says she explicitly told him not to intervene. Of course, she thinks he’s just a kid.”

  Joe faced her. “He shouldn’t have intervened, Suzanna. He could have blown our cover.”

  “Kelsey got hurt, damn it.”

  “She would have gotten hurt if we weren’t here.”

  “But you are here. Luke could have stopped it. And it wouldn’t have blown your cover. He’s already established himself as Sir Galahad.”

  “It’s my fault.”

  She faced him. “Why?”

  “I’ve been on his ass—” Joe sighed. “On him about controlling his behavior.” He rubbed his arm. “I got shot the last time we worked together because he jumped into something like this. I think he misread the situation, though he doesn’t believe he did. In any case, he was formally reprimanded. I’ve tried to convince him to not interfere unless absolutely necessary.”

  Suzanna’s gaze rested on his arm, then her eyes met his. Hers were full of a woman’s sympathy.

  “She’s okay, anyway, isn’t she? Just a swollen knee.”

  “Yes.”

  Frowning, he scanned the room. “Maybe you should go stay with her for the weekend. Help her out.”

  “No. She was exhausted tonight and just wanted to sleep. Plus her father’s coming tomorrow. Though he’ll get on her about how she got hurt, he loves her and he’ll take care of her.”

  “You could still go over there.”

  She shook her head. Swirls of honey blond hair distracted him. “Reynolds Cunningham and I don’t get along. We haven’t since I ‘got his daughter into high school teaching, for Christ’s sake.’”

  Joe chuckled at her imitation of Kelsey’s father.

  “And he resents my interference in her life.”

  “Tell me about that. Why it bothers you so much that you’re keeping secrets from her.”

  Suzanna turned back to the stove; she stirred the hot chocolate as she filled him in on her long-standing relationship with Kelsey and the young woman’s need for trust.

  “Thanks for sharing that,” he said when she finished. “I understand your issues with the undercover more, now. But I’m sorry, it still has to stay covert.”

  “I know.” Her tone was so resigned, it made his heart constrict. When she finished with the cocoa, she poured it into mugs and brought them to the table. The liquid steamed as she set down the mugs, and he noticed little tendrils of her hair curled from the heat. “Come drink this. You’re probably anxious to get going.”

  God, she was beautiful in the dim light, her hair loose around her face, little pearl earrings peeking out from beneath it. As they sat together, she sipped her hot chocolate delicately. She reminded him of a fragile porcelain doll. Thinking about her tantrum earlier, he knew she was tougher than she looked. Still, her staying alone for the weekend when he wasn’t in town was unacceptable.

  “Where are you going?” she asked, as if reading his mind. “Or can’t you tell me?”

  I can’t tell you. “To my sister’s.” A long pause. “It’s the anniversary of Josie’s death.”

  “Josie?” Her hand slid over to cover his. “Oh, Joe. She was named after you.”

  He nodded and held on to her. “My family’s better. They have strong religious faith, and their church has helped them cope with her death. Still, no matter what, wherever I am, I manage to get home for this.”

  “Home?”

  Briefly he squeezed her fingers, then let go. It felt too good, gave him too much comfort. And he was a man who didn’t take comfort well, had taught himself not to need it. “I guess I see their place as my home, not my brownstone in D.C. I have a suite of rooms at their house.” He smiled. “They live in this sprawling farmhouse on acres of land.” He glanced out the window. “There might even be sledding with my niece and nephew this weekend.”

  “I’ll bet they love having Uncle Joe there.” Her voice was wistful.

  My brother’s in Arizona...Brenda and Kelsey are the only family I have...

  “I think, because Josie and I were close, me being around makes them all feel better.”

  “And you? Do you feel better when you’re there?”

  He studied the chocolate as if it were tea leaves and revealed the secrets of life. “Yes.”

  They drank in silence. Did her thoughts mirror his? That he wished like hell they were here under different circumstances. That he had the right to throw back his chair, drag her onto his lap, and kiss away the worry on her face. He’d slipped up the other night, and called her sweetheart. With a flash of insight, he wanted the right to all kinds of intimacies with her.

  “I wish things were different,” she said softly.

  He couldn’t
let her verbalize it, or he’d do something stupid. “I do too, Suzanna.” Even to his own ears, her name sounded like a caress.

  For a while they sipped the cocoa and made small talk. They she glanced at the clock. “You should go before it gets too late.”

  “All right.”

  The scrape of their chairs was loud, echoing in the silence of so much left unsaid. Crossing to the doors, he rattled them.

  “I’ll turn the alarm on when you leave, Joe. All the doors and windows are wired.”

  “I know.” He pivoted. “Walk me out the front so you can set the security system when I leave.”

  Together they went through the kitchen, down the corridor, to the foyer. The living room was dark, and a tree batted against the window. She jumped back. His eyes narrowed on her.

  “I’m a little skittish, I guess.”

  “Call Ludzecky if you get scared. He’d love to play rescuer, since his pride’s been bruised by today.” That wasn’t enough, though. “And if anything happens, call the police.”

  Suzanna gave him a brave smile.

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  Next to her, on the hall table, was a bunch of daisies. They suited her perfectly. He glanced up the steps behind her. “Will you take a bath now?”

  She looked away, and he wondered again what she was thinking. “Maybe.”

  “Suzanna, I—”

  Gently, she raised her hand to his lips. His entire body warmed at her touch. “Shh. Go. Your family needs you.”

  So do you, he wanted to shout, feeling more torn than he could ever remember. What if something happened to her when he was gone? Could he live with that? He grasped her upper arms.

  She leaned in close to him, so her forehead touched his chest. “Joe, please, just go.”

  Releasing her, he turned. He reached for the door and clasped the cold knob, but he didn’t twist it.

  Agent Stonehouse warred viciously with the man inside him.

  Whirling around, he looked into amber eyes as conflicted as his must be. “Come with me, Suzanna.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Suzanna couldn’t believe she was sitting in the Callahans’ warm cocoon of a family room in Connecticut at eleven o’clock on Friday night. She was surrounded by Joe; his sister, Ruth, who sat on his right and kept touching his arm; and Al, lounging in a chair and looking eternally grateful to see his brother-in-law. High school senior Mark sprawled at Joe’s feet and ten-year-old Shelly sleepily leaned on her uncle’s shoulder.

  When he’d asked Suzanna to come here, she’d protested, albeit weakly...

  Joe, I can’t go with you. It’s got to be against the rules.

  Mr. Straight Arrow himself had said, Screw the rules. We’ll talk about how to handle my family on the drive up.

  Joe, I–

  Please, Suzanna. I want you with me.

  It was the phrasing that had persuaded her. It was personal, possessive. Like the other night when he’d held her close and called her sweetheart. Neither of them had mentioned that slip.

  “More wine, Suzanna?” Ruth resembled Joe with her green eyes, classic features, and dark hair. Dressed in navy slacks and sweater, she smiled warmly at her surprise company.

  Suzanna tugged at the cowl of the white sweater she’d put on, with black jeans, for the trip. “No, thanks, Ruth. I’m having trouble keeping my eyes open as it is.”

  “Even though you slept on the way up?” Joe teased.

  Delighted at this new side of him, Suzanna smiled. Primarily, she was stunned at the man who came out from inside the agent, though she’d caught glimpses before. She had slept on and off, but overheard the calls he made from his cell phone...

  Ruthie, I’m bringing someone with me. A pause. Yes, a woman, but it’s not like that. Another pause. No, not in my rooms. Make up the guest room. A chuckle. Then, soberly, he said, You can’t ask her anything, not even what she does for a living. She’s connected with the case. Tell the kids. A big-brother sigh. Yes, she’s very pretty.

  Feigning sleep, Suzanna had been warmed by the compliment and nestled into the blanket and pillow he’d provided.

  His call to Ludzecky was equally interesting.

  I’ve got Suzanna with me. Luke reacted; she could hear his elevated voice over the phone. I know, and frankly, I don’t give a shit. Again, a comment. Yes, you could have watched her, Luke. I’d trust you to do that. But it’s complicated. We’ll talk about it when I get back.

  His conversations weren’t the only things that had intrigued her. The closer they got to his family’s house, the more he seemed to unwind. When she’d awakened, they chatted about how to handle her being with his family, but mostly they talked about normal things, like normal people.

  His reaction when they arrived had emphasized the change. Before her eyes, he’d behaved like a completely different man. An honest, passionate, flesh-and-blood man—hugging his sister till Suzanna thought Ruth’s ribs might crack; unabashedly embracing Al; letting Mark make the first move to hug him. And Shelly had not let go of her uncle once in the two hours they’d been here.

  “Somebody else is sleepy.” Al indicated his daughter. “Want me to help you to bed, princess?”

  Joe stood and scooped her up. “I’ll do it.” He held the long-legged child in his arms as he smiled at Suzanna. “You okay?”

  She nodded.

  Mark said, “I’m going up, too.” He was a gangly teenager who took after his soft-spoken father. “Dad, wanna see what I did on our website before I crash?” He and Al were working on a web page for Mark.

  Al yawned. “Yeah, then I’m turning in.” He stood and smiled at Suzanna. “They keep you young. See you in the morning.” He crossed to his wife and kissed her soundly on the mouth. “Don’t stay up all night with Joey. You won’t enjoy the rest of his visit.”

  Joey.

  “I won’t.”

  And then she and Ruth were left alone. Suzanna, the mystery woman, and Joe’s very close sister.

  “He’s never brought anybody here before, you know.” Ruth had her brother’s no-nonsense way about her, though she relaxed back onto the beige couch.

  Suzanna shook her head. The other woman’s honesty called forth her own. “I don’t know, Ruth. I don’t know much about him.”

  “Would you like to?”

  “You mean about how you grew up and everything?”

  Her face shut down quicker than a door slamming in your face. “No, we never talk about how we grew up.” She brightened. “I mean other things.”

  “I’m not sure he’d want me to know more.”

  “Because you’re part of the case.”

  “Yes.”

  “So you’ll be out of his life after whatever he’s doing with you is over?”

  Pierced deeply by the thought, Suzanna nodded. “He’s different here,” she said quietly.

  “Never seen him in jeans?”

  “Not just that. He’s softer, more vulnerable.”

  Ruth said quietly, “I worry so much about him. I hate the Secret Service lifestyle. All the agents live such a lonely existence.” She swallowed hard. “And, of course, I live in terror that something will happen to him.”

  It was a fear that Suzanna hadn’t allowed herself to entertain. But reality came crashing in—an unwanted guest at a very private party—and she admitted, for the first time since this whole thing began, that Joe—and Luke, too—were risking their lives in Fairholm.

  I’ll die protecting them.

  Oh, God.

  “Well, no story.” Joe’s voice was a deep rumble from the doorway. “She fell asleep without asking.”

  Ruth laughed, and Suzanna tried to cover the horrible realization she’d just had by yawning.

  “Tired?” he said solicitously.

  Don’t stay up all night with Joey. These two needed time together.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.”

  “Come on, I’ll take you to your room.”


  No, he couldn’t do that. It was too intimate. Just as showing her his suite earlier had been.

  His own private space was different from what she’d expected. Lightly stained oak walls. A huge bed with Indian print covers. A den off that, and a bathroom, all decorated in soft browns and greens which highlighted his cat eyes.

  She stood. “I can find the way this time.”

  “Good night, Suzanna,” Ruth said.

  “Good night, Ruth.” She faced Joe, and her insides turned soft. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

  She was halfway up the steps when she remembered she’d left her purse by the couch. Backtracking, she made it to the doorway unseen when she heard Ruth say, “This is so unlike you, Joey. What’s going on?”

  “You know I can’t tell you that, honey.”

  “I don’t mean the undercover work. I mean her. You’re breaking every policy in the Secret Service handbook by bringing her here.”

  “I am. And I could get called on the carpet for it.”

  “Are you that worried about her safety?”

  “The truth?”

  “Nothing but...like we agreed.”

  “It’s more than the case. I wanted her with me.”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t answer that. I won’t.”

  “Joey—”

  “No, honey, drop it. Let me just enjoy this weekend with you and the kids. And her. I need it.”

  “Okay.” Quiet. “I need it, too.”

  Suzanna pivoted, abandoning the purse. Her heart was racing as she quietly crept back to her room. Though the guest accommodations were homey, and the bed comfortable, it took her a long time to fall asleep.

  o0o

  Suzanna was awakened by squeals and laughter. She turned over in her bed, trying to block out the sound. But it kept up, grew louder. When she came fully awake, she heard voices outside her window—high, feminine shrills and low, masculine shouts.

  Sleepily, she glanced at the clock and was startled. When was the last time she’d slept until 10 A.M.? Burrowing into sunny yellow pillowcases that smelled faintly of detergent, she listened to what was happening outside. The sounds reminded her of Josh and Lawrence and how they used to play outdoors in the winter. An acute pang of loneliness ambushed her.