LITMIR.BIZ

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women.”

      He still smiled, but what he said could be construed as a taste for violence. What kind of fight did he like in his women? The kind that “made” him start swinging punches if his woman didn’t act according to his warped script? Or was she reading too much into this, into him? Maybe he was only trying to get a feel for her boundaries. His ego would love to have a woman he kept at home, but that wasn’t as much of a priority as love and family. That would be the normal way of thinking in a secure man. Abnormal would be he’d resort to domestic abuse to have it his way.

      Eating their dinner was awkward and she was glad when it was over and she had her own car there.

      Cam tried to lighten up the conversation by talking about other things like barbecues and sporting events. He liked going to festivals, too. She didn’t reveal anything else about herself. She wasn’t sure if she was going to see him again.

      He walked her to her Subaru and when he leaned in for a kiss, she allowed a brief one.

      “Thank you for dinner,” she said. “It was delicious.” And it had been.

      “You’re welcome.” He smiled, liking that she’d thanked him. “I’ll call you.”

      She faced her car.

      “I’d like to take you to a movie when you’re free. How about next Wednesday night?”

      “Maybe. I’ll talk to you soon.”

      “‘Maybe’? Did something upset you tonight?”

      She sat in her car, shut the door and started the engine before rolling the window down a few inches.

      He looked concerned. “All that talk about working and having a family didn’t upset you, did it? I’m sorry if it was too soon to start talking about something so serious.”

      “It’s okay. I do like to take things slow.” She meant to keep things neutral for now.

      “I can see that. Otherwise you’d let me pick you up at your house for these dates.”

      “Thanks again.” She pulled out of the parking space and drove away, seeing in her rearview mirror that he stood there watching her. It gave her an uncomfortable feeling. There was something about him that didn’t ring true. In fact, it rang like a warning bell, one of those outdoor warning sirens cities used to signal evacuation during dangerous storms.

      * * *

      Just before noon the next day, Lucy walked into Kate’s room to find her sitting up on the bed. Her eyes were much clearer today and her brown hair neatly combed.

      “Feeling better today?” Lucy deposited a tray of food on the bedside table and moved it over to her so she could reach it easily.

      “Much better. The doctor thinks I should be able to go home in a day or two.”

      “That’s wonderful.” She checked the IV fluids and found their levels right where they needed to be.

      Kate picked up a spoon and investigated the bowl of chicken noodle soup. “But he says I have a long recovery ahead of me. I’ll need some home care and physical therapy.”

      “That’s to be expected after being shot and nearly killed.” Had she imagined the leading tone in Kate’s voice? She went about her usual routine.

      “Yes, I do suppose that’s true.”

      There were more flowers and a bag of cards that the Secret Service had filtered before bringing into the room.

      “It smells like a flower shop in here,” Lucy commented, adjusting a few of the vases that were too close to the edge of the deep window frame.

      “That’s not even the half of it. I’ve had to donate a good portion of the deliveries.” Kate sampled a spoonful of soup. All of her meals were specially made due to tightened security.

      “It’s good to know you’re loved.”

      “Beats being shot.”

      Lucy laughed a little. “At least your sense of humor is returning.” Kate had been shot in the abdomen. She’d undergone major surgery to repair her intestines. The bullet had narrowly missed her right kidney and a major artery. She was incredibly lucky. “Have they caught the man who shot you?”

      Kate put the spoon back in the bowl, her hand a little unsteady but managing the job. The topic appeared to bring down her mood and ruin her appetite. “Not yet. How is Daniel Henderson doing?”

      Lucy had checked on him before coming to the room, predicting that Kate would ask about the Secret Service agent who’d taken a bullet that would likely have finished her off. The gunman had fired four times from a building across the street from her fund-raiser. One had injured her, another had nearly killed Daniel Henderson, and the last two had hit a wall.

      “He’s still in critical condition in ICU,” Lucy reluctantly said. Kate seemed to be attached to the agent.

      Her worried blue eyes met Lucy’s. “Is he going to be all right?”

      “I don’t know. He isn’t improving yet.” She kept her tone neutral.

      Kate turned away with a weak sigh. She may have the outward appearance of healing but she still had a long way to go.

      “He’s in good hands,” Lucy reassured her. “The best doctors at Duke are taking care of him.”

      “Your father?”

      Lucy adored her father and he deserved all of the attention he received. Someday she hoped to earn the same level of respect. “He’s one of them.”

      “You’re a very good nurse, Lucy.” Kate grimaced as she moved too quickly to pick up the spoon again.

      Lucy helped her, handing her the spoon. Why had she said that?

      “Thank you.” She stirred the soup. “I can see you enjoy what you do. And you take the time to do everything right. You don’t miss a thing. You care for your patients.”

      She did care for them. That was what she loved about the literacy program where she volunteered. Helping others gave her a sense of achievement and self-worth. And she met a lot of people. Lucy loved talking to people, the social side of it. She wasn’t one who liked being alone. She lived alone now, and frequently talked to herself. Maybe a dog or a cat was in order so she could at least talk to something with a beating heart instead of her empty home.

      “If it wasn’t your father who inspired you to become a nurse, what did?”

      Realizing she hadn’t responded to Kate’s compliments, and that she had strategically done so, Lucy felt as though she should explain. “It was my father who inspired me. I loved listening to the stories he’d tell. The lives he thought he couldn’t save but did, who the people were. He believes in what he does. He believes he’s making a difference and he appreciates having the talent and the brains to help others.” Lucy smiled fondly. “My father is doing what he was meant to do. He doesn’t do it for the status. He does it because he loves it. And that’s why he’s so good at it.”

      Kate smiled with her. “And you’re the same way.”

      Appreciating that Kate recognized that about her, she said, “You’re being awfully kind.”

      “Kindness has nothing to do with it. My son could learn a thing or two from you.” Kate grimaced again as she tried to sit up straighter.

      “Thad?” Lucy went to help her, adjusting the pillows behind her and the angle of the bed. What could Thad possibly learn from her?

      Kate breathed contentedly, more comfortable now. “Thad is a very good crime scene investigator. Smart. Tenacious. But he’s also bullheaded when it comes to his personal life.”

      Lucy wasn’t sure she wanted to continue this conversation. “I doubt I can help him with that.” Not his personal life.

      “You

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