With Every Breath (4 page)

“I doubt you will find other employment as long as the eloquent Mr. Gertsmann is writing your reference,” Trevor said dryly. He straightened and continued to outline the position as though that note hadn’t just soured the air. “So you will be required to work with tubercular patients. There is no cure for the disease, but I am determined to find one. I am trying to stop it from infecting vital organs once it’s in the bloodstream. I need to measure how the serum I developed affects the proliferation of the bacillus.”

This was going to be a challenge. Trevor was still a cold fish and would be hard to work for. At least fish had hearts beating somewhere in their cold-blooded bodies. With Trevor she couldn’t be certain. For twelve years she’d carried the image of Trevor as he beat her that final day in the classroom, his face as disinterested as if he’d just tied his shoelaces.

“I always wondered something,” Kate began hesitantly. Trevor cocked a brow but said nothing. She braced herself and asked the question that had nagged at her for twelve years. “Why did
you fight to win that scholarship when you knew it was my only chance to go to college? When you were being driven around town in a fancy carriage and had gold cuff links, why did you do that?”

“I wanted the money.”

She choked on her own breath. “Your family was rolling in money! You had tailor-made clothes imported from Scotland. Your own carriage.”

“You asked a question, and I answered it honestly.” There wasn’t the slightest trace of appeasement in his voice or compassion on his face.

“Why did you change your name?”

“Do you want the job or not? If you do, I’ll expect you to be here at nine o’clock on Monday morning.” His voice was as flat and detached as though they were discussing the weather. Even the way he held himself seemed remote. He sat stiffly in the chair without touching the armrests or the back.

She would never land another job as long as Mr. Gertsmann was her supervisor at the census bureau. Trevor’s job sounded important and challenging, but a niggling suspicion took root in her mind. Maybe Trevor was doing this just to get her under his thumb. Back when they were in school, they waged a full-bore battle against each other with every scrap of intelligence they could gather. Sometimes she won, sometimes he did, but they always began the day on an equal footing. That wouldn’t be the case if she worked for him. He could grind her nose into the dust every day if he wanted.

“Why would you want
me
for this job?” she pressed. “I have no medical background, and there are plenty of people in this city who are skilled in statistics.”

“I can teach you the medical knowledge you need,” he said. “What I’m looking for is a lot harder to find. A cure for tuberculosis is nowhere in sight, but with God’s help I
will
find a cure.
It’s going to take decades and promises to be a long, brutal slog, but I will get there in the end.”

Trevor leaned forward. He wasn’t a cold, emotionless man anymore. A spark of electricity flashed in his eyes and transformed his entire face. Urgency and excitement simmered just beneath the surface, seeping into his voice.

“I’m going to need help, and I need someone who is
fearless
. Someone who isn’t afraid to stand up to dragons and battle them day after day. Our results may not show promise for years. Our patients will die. There will be days when you feel so beaten down you’ll want to crawl home and give up. But I’ll need you to get up, dust yourself off, and be ready to wage battle the next day.” He locked eyes with her. “I need someone who wants to win as badly as I do.
That
is why I want you for this job.”

The passion in his voice made her rock back in her chair. It made perfect sense. Blindingly beautiful, perfect sense. She had always been at odds with Trevor, but what if they joined forces? What if they funneled all of that competitive drive toward the same goal, throwing every ounce of their combined passion at one of the world’s deadliest diseases? Trevor rolled a pencil between impatient fingers as he looked at her with that curious gleam still burning in his eyes.

“What of it, Kate? Can I convince you to tear yourself from the joys at the census bureau and take up the crusade against tuberculosis?”

Working for Trevor would be a gamble, but every instinct urged her to take the chance. Though putting faith in her old nemesis was risky and frightening, she wanted this job and was never one to back away from a challenge. “All right, Trevor. I’ll work with you.”

A tiny smile flickered over Trevor’s face before he reverted to his chilly demeanor. He opened a file and withdrew a page.
“Here’s an announcement that will appear in tomorrow’s
Washington Post
. Please review it for accuracy.”

Kate took the paper and read.

Mrs. Katherine Livingston has accepted a position at Washington Memorial Hospital as statistical forecaster for the Tubercular Research Clinic. Inquiries regarding the data collected in the study may be directed to her at the hospital’s main office.

She was shocked. “Why on earth would you do this?”

“Public perception is vitally important in this sort of research. We won’t ever make a move in the clinic without keeping the public informed. They can turn against you quickly. People fear tuberculosis like it’s a modern-day plague. We are rarely popular with the local community.”

She held up the page. “And you think this will help?”

“It can’t hurt. It will appear in tomorrow’s paper.”

“You were awfully confident of my response. What if I had said no?”

He flipped open another file and began making notes, his pencil scratching in the silence. “Then I would withdraw the announcement. But you’ve never struck me as a foolish person. Impulsive and overly emotional sometimes, but never foolish.”

He was baiting her, yet Kate refused to fall into the trap. It would be better to score a point. She affected a casual tone.

“If you really want to make an impression on the public, you ought to get an announcement in the
Congressional Record.
It is circulated all over the world and has a cachet no mere newspaper can wield. I can arrange for an announcement if you’d like.”

“You could do that?” Trevor looked impressed.

Anything spoken on the floor of Congress was submitted to the
Congressional
Record
, but members of Congress could also
slip in announcements, and there was a good chance Charlie Davis would do it for her.

“Of course,” she said.

Trevor leaned back in his chair, wiggling a pencil between nervous fingers as he considered her. She could see the thoughts spinning in his head as he weighed a response. He shifted in his seat and began tapping his foot, growing more frustrated by the second. “Okay, I have to admit, that’s pretty good,” he finally said.

She tried not to preen, but these little victories over Trevor were so rare it was hard not to savor them.

“Coming from you, I’ll consider that a compliment, Trevor.”

His expression stiffened. “That’s fine, but when we’re working around other people, you will need to call me Dr. Kendall.”

“You can’t be serious.”

He didn’t even look up from his file as he began collecting papers. “I’m entirely serious. It is my legal name and it’s important to keep a professional distance, so you’ll need to call me Dr. Kendall like every other employee in this hospital.”

He seemed determined to hide why he’d changed his name, but she would figure it out in short order. Besides, she had no desire to advertise their long association to anyone else working in the hospital.

“I’ll see you Monday morning, Dr. Kendall.”

3

S
he didn’t even bother to return to the census bureau. Instead she headed straight home, where Charlie Davis reclined on the sofa in the front parlor with his feet propped on a stool, reading the morning newspaper. As she shut the door, he dropped the paper and rolled into a sitting position.

“How did it go?” A chicken potpie dish, scraped clean, sat on the table beside him. Kate picked it up, as well as the plate that once held muffins and fresh fruit.

“I got the job,” she said as she carried the plates into the kitchen.

Her mother dropped the lid over a kettle. “You did?” Her face lit up as if she were about to levitate. Charlie followed her, batting aside the swinging doors as he followed her into the kitchen.

“You did?” Charlie asked. “Why then do you sound so tense?”

Kate folded her arms and tried to keep the shaking from her voice. “I’ll be working for Trevor McDonough.”

Her mother gasped. “The horrible Trevor McDonough?
That
Trevor McDonough?”

“The very same. Except now he’s calling himself Trevor Kendall, and he won’t explain why he changed his name.”

Charlie and her mother exchanged glances. “That does seem a little odd,” Charlie conceded.

“That boy was always so strange,” her mother said. “I don’t like the idea of you working for him. Not one bit.” The light had faded from her eyes as she picked up a knife to slice carrots. Her mother never forgave Trevor for snatching that scholarship, and if he was smart, he would never set foot in this house. Her mother knew how to hold on to a grudge, and she was fierce in protecting her cubs.

Charlie was more generous. “I always thought you and Trevor McDonough were destined to be either mortal enemies or the very best of friends. You’re too alike to be anything else.”

Her mother dropped the knife. “Kate is nothing like that horrid boy! Everyone likes Kate. She is always smiling and helpful. If that McDonough boy ever smiled, it would crack his face into pieces. I doubt he has a friend in the world.”

Kate grabbed an apple and leaned against the counter, a long-buried memory rising to the surface.

There was only one time Kate tried to befriend Trevor. It was shortly after he’d arrived at their school, and his Scottish accent was so thick it made him a target for mocking. If Kate had been on the receiving end of that kind of teasing, she would have laughed and corrected their accents, trilling her words in a lovely Scottish brogue until she forced them to laugh alongside her. Not Trevor. He just withdrew even more. While most students played games during their lunch break, Trevor walked off behind the school to stare moodily into the distance. If he hadn’t been so unfriendly, people would have invited him to play, but Trevor made it tough. One day Kate persuaded Nathan to ask Trevor to join a game of kickball with the rest of the boys. Nathan was the friendliest person ever born, but when he invited Trevor to the game, Trevor just glared at Nathan and stormed off behind the school.

Nathan looked at Kate and shrugged before joining the other boys. Kate was mortified on Nathan’s behalf, but she’d seen enough temper tantrums from her little brothers to know hurt feelings when she saw them.

She followed Trevor around the back of the school. He was sitting on the ground, gangly legs sprawled before him, with his head braced in his hands as he stared at the dirt. “Why are you so unhappy?” she asked.

He startled, scrambling to his feet. Had he been crying? It was impossible to tell because before she could get a good look, he kicked dirt at her. “I’m not unhappy,” he said and then ran off into the woods.

They didn’t see him at school for the rest of the week. He must have caught trouble for it at home, because after that, Senator Campbell’s fancy carriage arrived every morning to drop Trevor off and retrieve him at the end of the day. Everyone knew that Trevor’s guardian was the senator from Maryland, and that bought him a certain level of respect. His academic brilliance was another point in his favor. But during the entire four years of school, Trevor never made a single friend.

Her mother loaded a plate with fresh bread and a thick wedge of smoked Gouda cheese. “Fetch the kettle,” she said. “We need to talk about this.”

Ten minutes later they were at the dining table. They had been joined by Sergey Zomohkov, a diplomat from Russia who had been living with them for the past three months. Mr. Zomohkov rarely rose before noon, but he and his wife usually stayed awake until at least two o’clock in the morning.

“The job sounds perfect,” Kate said. “I’ll finally have a chance to do something really important. It means working for Trevor, but I am used to dealing with cold fish. I’ve prepared fresh herrings for the past decade.”

Her mother looked ready to pull her hair out. “But you will be quitting a safe job to work for a man you barely know.”

Of course, Kate
did
know Trevor. He was so tightly stitched she was surprised he didn’t squeak when he walked, yet there was no denying he was the smartest person she’d ever met. And in a strange way, she enjoyed their rivalry at school. Just knowing Trevor was in the classroom made her try harder, study longer. Already she could feel the anticipation to test her skills against him rising to the surface.

The Russian diplomat smacked his hand on the table, rattling the china. “Why does this old rival want to work with you?” he demanded. “Maybe now that you are a widow, he hankers for you?”

Kate shuddered. “I will need a bucket of bleach to scrub that mental image from my mind.”

“Why else would a man want a woman to work in his office?” Mr. Zomohkov asked. “Men have desires. Men have—”

“Stop!” Kate pleaded. The last thing she wanted polluting her mind was Trevor’s manly desires. The very idea made her shudder.

Her mother nodded. “Mr. Zomohkov is right. There is something odd about Trevor McDonough . . . or whatever he is calling himself these days. He’s always been peculiar.”

She could not quite believe it, but she was going to defend Trevor. “Tick says the surgeon general knows Trevor. That he spent years trying to lure him to Washington. Apparently, Trevor is a very famous medical researcher.”

She was about to tell them about the fancy awards Trevor had hanging on the wall in the hospital, but the diplomat’s wife made her appearance. She was a large woman, with a triple strand of pearls around her thick neck, even at noon. The woman smiled and nodded at everyone, her pin curls bobbing with each
nod. She didn’t speak a lick of English, which made dining a challenge, but her husband was always willing to translate for her.