Love Is Elected (18 page)

Kara's eyelashes fluttered nervously, and she looked down at her lap. How did she feel about her marriage now? What were her feelings toward Matt? And more important, what were his feelings toward her? He still found her desirable; she knew that from last night. But he had given her no indication that his feelings went beyond a mere physical attraction. He hadn't said, "I love you," and she despaired that he ever would.

Uncertainty began to well up in her as she reflected on the unnerving twists and turns her life had taken in recent weeks. Yes, she was unhappy. But it was better to keep her turmoil hidden from her Uncle James. He looked too frail right now she decided.

Masking her unhappiness, she gave James a bright smile. "It's okay. Things will work themselves out eventually."

Then, hastily changing the subject, she said, "There's something I've been wanting to ask you. I've never understood your association with Matt. Why does a staunch party-supporter like you align himself with a crusading reformer like Matt?"

Unexpectedly, James grinned sheepishly. "You don't think much of my politics, do you?"

Kara blushed and looked embarrassed. The old man continued. "I had come to the conclusion that my longtime unquestioning support of machine politics was a mistake. I think it's time to clean out the stables, so to speak," he said to her with a rueful smile. "And I think Matt's the man to do it."

A little stab of pride hit her as she heard his words. Yes, maybe Uncle James was right. Maybe Matt was the man to do it. She knew from personal experience, she thought ironically, that when Matt went after something he usually got it.

Just then the nurse came in and announced, "Mr. Barnett needs to rest now." Putting down a tray of medicine, she fluffed up his pillow. "Time for your yellow pills," she singsonged cheerfully. Grinning, Kara took her uncle's hand, squeezed it and then left the room.

As she closed the door she almost bumped into Monica. The slender blonde looked smart and professional in a crisp, white uniform. Kara felt embarrassed when she remembered that she had thought Monica was one of Uncle James' bedmates. How unjust she had been to both of them.

But Monica appeared unconscious of Kara's earlier prejudice, and gave the dark-haired young woman a friendly "How are you?"

"I'm fine now that my uncle is so much improved," Kara returned.

"Yes, I'm relieved too," the nurse agreed. "Now that your uncle's out of the ICU, where they don't allow private duty nurses, I'm back on the case. I feel as if I haven't been away at all. As soon as he sees me he'll probably start complaining about the hospital food and demanding his waterbed."

"His waterbed?" Kara asked in confusion.

"Yes, for his arthritic condition," Monica explained cheerfully, entering the room and leaving Kara in the hall, uncomfortable again at the thought of her assumptions.

As the door closed behind her, Kara rubbed her eyes and suddenly realized how tired she was. Even though her uncle now seemed out of danger, there was no denying that the past few days had been an ordeal, and she felt drained by it.

Heading toward the elevator, she pressed the down button. What she needed was a cup of coffee in the hospital cafeteria before Matt stopped in to see how her uncle was doing.

Quickly she purchased a cup of black coffee and brought it to a small, red formica table. Slumping with fatigue into the hard, plastic chair, she fell into a reverie. Unexpectedly she found herself looking forward to seeing Matt. Perhaps they could work things out yet.

But her daydreams were rudely blown away by the pair of hostile eyes she felt burning the back of her neck. She turned suddenly to see Vera Caldwell sitting at a table directly behind her, chain-smoking. A pile of used cigarettes littered the foil ashtray in front of the reporter, and cigarette smoke wreathed her brilliant red curls. Kara shuddered involuntarily. What was that woman doing staring at her like that?

Crushing out a half-smoked cigarette, Vera pushed back her chair with a scrape and moved toward Kara. Her stiletto heels made sharp, clicking noises on the shiny, tiled floor of the cafeteria.

Without asking, Vera pulled out a chair at the other side of the table and sat down, smoothing out the knife pleats of her black linen skirt. She was outfitted as usual in the height of fashion, and although Kara had dressed carefully that morning, she suddenly felt rumpled and grimy.

"I've been hoping to see you here," the redhead began in clipped tones as she eyed the young woman through long, mascaraed lashes.

"Oh," Kara replied blankly, wondering what the reporter could want with her.

"I'm waiting for an opportunity to interview your uncle, of course," Vera went on. "But I also want to talk to you."

"To me?" Kara questioned. "What about?"

"About Matt, what else?" the reporter retorted, watching Kara intently. Before continuing, Vera slowly lit another cigarette, inhaled and coolly blew out a thin cloud of grayish smoke.

Stifling a cough, Kara demanded, "What can you possibly have to say to me about Matt?"

"I have a great deal to say about him. Matt and I go way back," she said, her eyes narrowing as she looked the younger woman up and down critically. "We've known each other for a long time. We're old and dear friends and I hate to see his life ruined by a foolish marriage. You and I know that Matt was forced into this by your uncle. He would never have chosen to marry a naive little piece of baggage under other circumstances."

Kara gasped. She felt Vera's words pierce her heart. The reporter had said exactly what Kara had feared herself. How could someone as young and unsophisticated as herself ever hope to earn the love and respect of a polished man of the world like Matt? It was true, she thought, hating Vera for having said it out loud. Kara tried to lift the coffee cup to her lips but her fingers were shaking, so she quickly set it back on the table.

Vera's green eyes watched Kara's trembling hands with satisfaction. "You know what I'm saying is the truth," she pressed her advantage. "You're not the right woman for Matt and you never will be. At best, he'll only tolerate you and seek consolation in the arms of another woman," Vera added with a knowing smile.

Kara felt another twinge of pain. She feared that Matt had already done that. In fact, she wondered if the sleek journalist before her was the woman. She remembered the image of Matt's dark head next to the reporter's red curls at the reception. And then there were those television news broadcasts showing Matt and Vera deep in discussions on Maryland politics. What had they discussed, she wondered, when they were not on film? Or had they wasted time on words at all?

Vera's voice interrupted her thoughts. "I don't know what your plans are, but I recommend you divorce Matt immediately after the election. I know that's what he wants."

"How could you possibly know?" Kara parried, mustering every bit of courage she could.

"Because," said the reporter smiling triumphantly at her victim, "Matt told me so." Kara stiffened while Vera twisted the knife a little deeper. "Matt has told me that your marriage is nothing more than a joke and that he wishes he'd never set eyes on your uncle's cabin. He feels trapped," she said with a haughty air, "but I intend to set him free. If you don't agree to a divorce after the election, I'll make sure the details of your little plot to entrap him are leaked to the press. You and your uncle will be the laughing stocks of the whole state."

"If you write a scandalous story about Matt, he'll hate you," Kara countered, trying to rally.

"Oh," said Vera with a complacent smirk, "I wouldn't be that stupid. Do you think I'd write the story myself? All I have to do is drop a hint in the right ear and someone else will do it for me. You're the one Matt will blame, not me."

"But I'd let him know who was behind all the gossip."

Vera laughed. "He'd never believe you." Crushing out her cigarette, the redhead stood up and looked down at the tiny brunette. "Just think it over," was her parting shot as she turned and walked out, the sounds of her thin heels echoing on the hard floor.

Kara's mind was in a whirl. What could she do? she wondered in desperation.

Kara huddled in the hard, plastic cafeteria chair. Vera's threat kept echoing in her mind. Had Matt confided in Vera about their marriage? It certainly sounded as if he had. And that meant Vera's statement must be true. He must have no real feeling for me, Kara told herself hopelessly. The reality of that was a crushing blow. In the back of her mind she had allowed herself to hope that Matt was beginning to care for her. It had been something she had clung to, she realized, in the face of all evidence to the contrary. But now there could be no more doubt. There was no reason even to hope.

She didn't know what to do next. What I need is someone to talk to, Kara told herself. Could she unburden herself to Uncle James? No. She dismissed the idea at once. Even though he was making good progress, he was still too sick to worry about her problems.

Well then, what about Matt's mother? Kara eliminated that option too. She needed someone who would be impartial. And Mrs. Jordan was too involved in the situation for that.

The only alternative was Jill. Perhaps she could go down to Georgetown and have a long talk with her old roommate. Maybe she could even stay with Jill, she reasoned. The idea lifted her spirits. It would be just like old times when they used to exchange girlish confidences into the wee hours of the morning. And, anyway, there was no way she could think clearly with Matt around, that was for sure.

Kara glanced at her watch. It was one o'clock. Matt would be at the hospital soon. She didn't want to meet him, didn't want to be confused by his magnetic virility.

After she had told her uncle she would be away for a few days, Kara hastily scribbled a note for Matt, explaining that she had to get away and think. She left it at the nurse's station, with instructions to deliver it to her husband when he arrived.

The ride from downtown Baltimore to Georgetown took almost two hours. And Kara's nerves were on edge when she parked her yellow hatchback in front of the red brick town house she shared with Jill.

Thank goodness I still have my key, she thought, as she opened the door and stepped into the small living room.

The room was dark. Kara realized Jill would still be at work. Maybe I'd better call Jill and warn her I'm here, she thought. Picking up the phone, she dialed the office.

"Gee, Kara," her former roommate exclaimed. "It will be good to have you back for a while, even for a few days. But I've been roped into working overtime, so don't expect me until seven or so."

"Oh, that's all right," Kara reassured her, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. "We'll talk this evening."

Feeling somewhat at loose ends, Kara fixed herself a cup of tea, took off her shoes and lay down on the sofa to relax. Before she knew it, she had dozed off into an exhausted but fitful sleep. Her uncle's illness had taken a heavy toll on her reserves of energy. And the upsetting scene with Vera at the hospital had left her as limp as a wilted flower. Her emotions about Matt had never been more confused. And sleep was a welcome refuge.