She gave him another look, one that set his mind at ease. She leaned toward him. “You mentioned a few weeks ago about curing the common heartache. We’ve just done that again.” Two men walked by and she lowered her voice. “I love you, Major Randolph. I never thought I would love anyone again. I was wrong.” She patted his arm. “You may take all the time you need to decide. I already have. And now, where is that attorney’s office?”
His fingers propped together in a steeple, the lawyer heard what both of them had to say without interrupting, writing down his questions to ask when each finished. He sat a long moment, looking at his list, then leaned back in his chair.
“Mrs. Randolph, to your knowledge, your former husband, now deceased, had no living relatives?”
“None.”
He smiled at them both. “Frederick Hopkins’s death renders this court decision void. Nowhere do I see any evidence of another party authorized to step in. I hope you find Thomas. I would certainly advise at least one of you to return to Carlisle and consult with the local authorities. Little boys don’t just disappear.”
“No, they don’t just disappear,” Joe said as they walked back to the hotel. “I’m convinced Nick had a hand in it.”
“We’re putting a lot of trust in a man who showed up from nowhere, thinks he’s Saint Paul, and stole two hundred dollars from your medical fund,” Suzie replied.
Joe put his arm around her, even though it was a forward thing to do on a public street. “I just have a good feeling about Nick Martin. Always have. He was helpful and very much your champion.” He pressed the worry line between her eyes. “And now I’m your champion.”
In shy silence, they ate roast beef far better than government issue in the hotel dining room, with mashed potatoes and gravy.
“Can you make gravy as good as this?” he asked at last. It seemed such an inane filler, “And mashed potatoes?”
“Better,” she assured him, then laughed softly. “Joe, anything I cook will be better than what you’re used to.” She leaned closer. “I fibbed about the nightgown. I did bring one, but it’s just old flannel.”
It was just old flannel, faded from numerous washings. Without her usual armor of corset and stays and petticoats, she looked smaller and almost fragile, but he knew looks were deceiving. She was going to braid her hair before bed, but he stopped her, sat her on his lap and brushed her hair. It crackled in the dry air and turned into a blond nimbus around her face. He took off her spectacles and left them on the bedside table. He touched the dimple below her eye.
“What do you see out of this eye?”
“Not much. Blurry images.” She folded her hands in her lap like the well-mannered lady he knew she was. “The physician said that was all I could hope for.”
“I expect he was right. Magnification from the lens doesn’t make much difference, does it?”
“None that I can tell,” she confided, leaning against him. “It seemed to make my physician happy to think he was doing something, so I didn’t argue.”
“You don’t need to wear spectacles then, do you?”
“Probably not.”
“Then don’t. If you feel eyestrain, then you should wear them.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
His lips were close to hers now. “Yea or nay tonight, Mrs. Randolph?”
“How about hallelujah?”
He grabbed her around the waist, breathing in the wonderful fragrance of her hair, which excited him as much as her softness. Her arms were tight around him, and she kissed him. He wondered at first if she would feel like M’liss. She did, in the basics, but she didn’t. Melissa had been tall and well-built, and Suzie wasn’t. He decided to be as gentle as possible, because he knew Frederick, drunk or sober, hadn’t cared much about the niceties. Joe realized after a mere minute that Suzie was as hungry for him as he was for her.
He wasn’t sure where her nightgown went; probably in the same corner as his nightshirt. He lay on top of her, almost giddy with the feeling, smoothing her hair back with both hands as he kissed her neck and her breasts. She shifted a little, raised her hips, murmured his name, and the mating dance began. He hadn’t forgotten any of the choreography and neither had she. Her breath came as rapidly as his, her hands warm on his back, then caressing him in a way oddly gentle,