Heart of the Matter (17 page)

Read Heart of the Matter Online

Authors: KI Thompson

Tags: #Literary, #Fiction, #General, #Love Stories, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Traffic Accident Victims, #Lesbian, #Women Television Journalists, #Lesbian College Teachers

BOOK: Heart of the Matter
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By midafternoon Ellen had achieved what she had set out to accomplish and decided now was a good time to take a break, even though the museum would be open for another two hours. Kate had worked especially hard, and Ellen decided to make an overture to her. She found Kate working on the laptop, concentrating on Ellen’s notes.

“How’s it going?” she asked, trying to be as friendly as possible.

“Almost finished.” Kate kept her eyes on the screen. “If you’ve got more notes, just put them on top.”

“No more notes. I’m done here. There are a couple of hours left, so if you want to do some research of your own, that’s fine with me.”

Kate glanced up. “It’s not really
my
research.”

“But you’ve taken such an interest in it,” Ellen insisted. She didn’t want to see Kate neglect her work. It had mattered to her.

“What you’ve described so far sounds intriguing.” Kate frowned. Ellen had already decided she couldn’t use the material, so why bother? She was expending a lot of effort on something that was going nowhere. She did find it interesting, but what difference did that make? She had written better stories as a cub reporter.

She shook her head. “There isn’t time for it. Besides, it’s not going to become a book.”

“But that’s the point.” Ellen’s voice rose a notch. “It could be a book. You could write your own book.” Suddenly she saw a possibility for Kate’s future. “You’re a journalist by profession, a writer. You could take any story you’ve ever come across and write a book about it. Stories about people, about their emotions, those are the kinds of things you’re good at.” Kate was taken aback. Writing a book seemed sedate compared with the fast-paced, noisy newsroom she had been accustomed to.

While she enjoyed what she had uncovered in the past few days, the actual work had begun to bore her and she felt restless. She needed contact with people and the energy and unpredictability that entailed, not writing in an enclosed room.

“I don’t know,” Kate said slowly. “Doing this short-term is one thing, but a steady diet of it doesn’t appeal to me.” Ellen didn’t want her to give up so easily. “Well, think about it.

Don’t close the door on the possibility too soon.” She could see it so clearly now. Kate was smart and intuitively knew what would make a good story. Writing suited her perfectly. And she wouldn’t have to leave her condo and be exposed to prying eyes, her one great fear.

At least she would have ample time to readjust to society without having to deal with it on a daily basis.

As they drove back to the hotel Ellen thought about where to go next. She needed to cover quite a few other sites, but intended to visit some such as Chancellorsville and Spotsylvania on the way back to DC. She wanted to travel to the Shenandoah Valley on another occasion and leave the out-of-state research for last.

Glancing toward Kate, she asked, “Have you been to Williamsburg?”

“Isn’t that a Revolutionary-era town?”

“Well, yes, although there was a minor Civil War battle there, too. I thought we’d detour by there since it’s so close and it’s on the way to Norfolk, our next stop. Williamsburg is one of my favorite places, and I’m also interested in the Revolution. It’s an enjoyable sightseeing place, and on our way back from the coast, we could meander along the James River and see some of the plantations.” After leaving the downtown area and merging onto the highway, Ellen drove west, arriving in Williamsburg an hour later. As they immersed themselves in the living history of the Colonial district, Ellen thought again about Kate becoming a writer. The prospect excited her.

The temporary break from work took a little of the edge off their strained relationship, or so it seemed to Ellen. They wandered from shop to shop, exploring the replicas of eighteenth-century products for sale, as well as the shops dedicated to preserving the kinds of trades that had existed. By the time they made it to the capitol building it was getting late, so they stopped in at Christiana Campbell’s for dinner.

Ellen ordered a glass of wine and perused the menu. She was thoroughly enjoying herself, and she loved being with Kate. The sights and sounds of Williamsburg heightened her senses more than she could remember, probably because of her growing feelings for Kate. While Kate had been somewhat subdued, Ellen sensed that she was getting over her earlier hurt feelings. She regretted being responsible for them, but now she could smooth things over.

“So what are you having?” Ellen asked her.

“The chicken sounds good. What’s spoon bread?”

“Oh, you must try it, it’s heavenly.” Kate glanced at her. The way Ellen looked at that moment in the candlelight, her face expressive and alive, took her breath away.

Try as she might, she couldn’t stay angry and was once again drawn in by Ellen’s beauty. She couldn’t really blame her for wanting to write her book the way she wanted to, even if it was rather dull. She had no right to impose her opinion on Ellen’s book and certainly shouldn’t try to change it. Kate recalled her final day in the newsroom, when she had been angry over someone editing her copy without her permission. She had been ready to rip them a new one.

She sighed, recalling her last day at the station. She missed the work and the excitement and knew she’d been good at it—was still good at it. It was where she belonged.

The dinner and the wine helped heal the slight rift in their relationship, and as they left the restaurant, Ellen didn’t want the pleasant evening to end. They meandered down the Duke of Gloucester Street to the car, the shops they passed locked and dark. Ellen inhaled deeply of the smells she always associated with Williamsburg: the lush gardens, the dirt street, the old wooden buildings. At times like these she wished she had been born in another era.

Kate felt Ellen relax and wanted nothing more than to put her arm around her and walk side by side. In fact, she had to make an effort not to. She consoled herself by breathing in Ellen’s scent, floral and feminine, and a warm rush of arousal spread through her.

“We can drive on to Norfolk tonight, get in late, and find a hotel.” Ellen didn’t sound enthusiastic.

“Can’t we just spend the night here?” Kate asked. Ellen seemed so happy at the moment; Kate didn’t want to dispel her mood so quickly.

“Williamsburg doesn’t fit into my budget. The Inn itself is prohibitive, although it wouldn’t be my first preference anyway.”

“And what would be your first preference?” Kate probed.

“Mmm, one of these.” Ellen gestured to a couple of quaint Colonial guest houses nearby. Each had a small plaque indicating its name and an even smaller one stating that it was a guest house.

“They’re separate accommodations, but still part of the Inn.” Kate noticed a small private garden behind each house and perceived the charm that drew Ellen. “Why don’t we just find out if one’s available? My treat.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t.”

“Why not? You’ve been working hard for days. You deserve a break, at least for one night. Tomorrow we can drive on to Norfolk and get back to work.”

Kate watched as Ellen paused and the wheels turned in her head. “Come on,” she said.

The twinkle in Kate’s eyes made the offer doubly hard to resist. Ellen thought about the last time she’d spent the night in Williamsburg, which had been a favorite escape for her and Chris, her partner years ago. Chris had been a grad student in the same program and was as passionate about history as Ellen, the only thing they had in common. She had come to associate Williamsburg with Chris and therefore hadn’t spent as much time here as she would like. It was a pity, since she loved the place and it was so close to DC.

But spending the night again, this time with Kate, took on an entirely new meaning. Not that anything would happen, but she had always considered the place a romantic getaway. She was enjoying herself with Kate, and the pull of attraction was drawing them closer.

“Well, I suppose we could just inquire…” Kate didn’t give her a chance to change her mind. She grabbed Ellen’s hand, turned up a side street, and headed for the Inn and the front desk.

“The upstairs of the Orlando Jones Office is available. It has two twin beds.”

“What about downstairs?” Ellen asked.

“I’m afraid that is booked,” the desk clerk replied, looking up from her computer expectantly.

Ellen frowned. “Are any of the other Colonial houses available?”

After searching again, the desk clerk shook her head. “Sorry, I do have a few vacancies in the taverns, but no other houses.” Kate glanced at Ellen. “What’s wrong with the place that’s available?”

“It’s one room,” Ellen emphasized.

Kate looked quizzically at her. “So?” Ellen’s ears felt warm. She didn’t want Kate to think she was a prude, but she didn’t want her to think she was easy. Just the idea of sleeping in the same room with Kate made her body twitch. She wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing Kate, wearing only a T-shirt, was in the bed next to her.

It finally dawned on Kate what Ellen was implying. They would be sharing a room. Though the notion wasn’t completely unpleasant, perhaps Ellen had second thoughts about being that close. The kiss they shared had been a momentary, spontaneous aberration. Obviously, Ellen wanted to move on and not give Kate any ideas. What did Ellen think she was going to do, ravish her?

“There are two beds,” the desk clerk said helpfully.

Ellen glanced at the woman and blushed.

“We’ll take it,” Kate said emphatically. She pulled out her credit card and slapped it down on the counter.

They parked behind the house and climbed the steps to their room. Although it was relatively small compared to others Ellen had stayed in, the dormer windows and the period furnishings gave the room a quaint charm and she stood admiring it. Once again she felt transported back in time and closed her eyes to relish the sensation.

As Kate unpacked, she surreptitiously observed Ellen, wondering at the strong feeling she appeared to have about the hotel, the town, and history in general. Something about her intensity made Ellen more alluring, as though merely being in the historical milieu made her a totally different person.

“Um, if you need to get into the bathroom first, that’s fine,” Ellen offered.

“No, I’m good, go ahead.” Kate grabbed the hem of her shirt and drew it up and over her head, then tossed it onto the bed she had chosen to sleep in.

She was obviously unconcerned with her effect on Ellen, who looked everywhere but directly at her. Helpless, she dared to peek at Kate’s trim figure, and as she admired it, she noticed several scars she hadn’t seen before. One ran from Kate’s left shoulder down her arm and the other along the left side of her body. During their time traveling together, Ellen had completely forgotten the accident. All that mattered was her work and being with Kate. Seeing the scars rekindled the forgotten memory, and it pained Ellen to imagine what the accident had cost Kate.

Glancing up, she was startled to realize Kate had caught her staring and noticed Kate’s angry expression mixed with hurt. Kate turned her back on Ellen and continued to undress, and once more Ellen looked away from her. She was embarrassed to have been caught staring and wanted to correct Kate’s predictable impression that she had done so because of her scars. She opened her mouth to explain, but words simply failed her. No matter what she said, Kate probably wouldn’t believe her.

Ellen gathered her overnight bag and pajamas and headed for the bathroom. After she finished and returned to the main room, Kate was sitting on her bed, placing a book and a travel clock on the nightstand. Even wearing an old T-shirt and a pair of boxers, she was absolutely stunning. Ellen hoped that the loose pajamas she wore covered as many of her shortcomings as possible.

Ellen sat on the bed next to Kate’s. “Kate,” she began.

Kate looked up from her book to see Ellen dressed in pale blue silk pajamas. She had removed what little makeup she wore, and her freshly washed face made her look even younger. The silk pajamas clung to her curves, inviting touch. Kate could only imagine how smooth Ellen’s skin was underneath.

“I…” Ellen didn’t know what to say. She wanted to apologize for staring, she wanted to apologize for hurting her feelings, and she wanted to say she was sorry for everything that had happened to her. But how could she express something like that and not sound pitying?

“What?”

“I want you to know how glad I am you decided to come with me. I really enjoy having you along and appreciate all you’re doing for me.”

Kate was surprised. Somehow she felt that this wasn’t really what Ellen had wanted to say, but it was nice to hear nevertheless.

“Thanks,” she replied, nonplussed. “But I should be the one to thank you. You’ve done a lot for me, when I needed it most. I owe you a lot.”
I could kiss her right now. I’ve done it a million times
before with other women. I can do it again.

Ellen blushed. “I think you’ve more than made up for it by the torture you’re enduring at my hands.” Being deliciously tortured by Ellen’s hands flashed through Kate’s mind. She even dared to glance at them resting in Ellen’s lap.

“I’ve enjoyed the research, really I have. Some of what I’ve read has been absorbing. I can see why it captivates you so.”

“And I hope you find it enticing enough to continue your research,” Ellen replied. “You have the makings of a very good book on your hands. I hope you don’t abandon it because of me.” Kate realized that Ellen was trying to make amends for their earlier disagreement and waved it off. “Don’t worry about it, Ellen. You were right. I was trying to shape your research in another direction, and that wasn’t fair to you. I came along to help, not make your work more difficult.”

A large weight lifted from Ellen’s shoulders, and the small knot in her stomach finally untied. She sighed and felt like giggling as relief surged through her. “Well, now that we’re back on track, I’d love to see what you have so far. It would be interesting bedtime reading, but it could also help me with my work. That is, if you don’t mind.”

Kate shrugged. “Fine. It’s not as academic as what you’re doing—purely a subjective project.”

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