“What an elegant red,” she noted. “Great balance for such a full-bodied cab.”
“How do you know so much about wines?”
“My little secret is that I didn’t start out to be a journalist.”
“Really?”
“I did two years in the viticulture and enology undergrad program at UC Davis.”
“I’ll have to look both those words up next time I get cell service.”
“Let me help you. Viticulture refers to growing grapes. From the Latin word for ‘vine.’ And enology is the science of winemaking.”
“What made you switch?”
“Honestly,” Katie said, “the war. My dad. Your dad. I felt like this country had provided my family so much opportunity. Seeing those freedoms squandered and eroded by pandering career politicians while young men and women who stood up to volunteer to defend the nation kept coming home in caskets made me angry. When Ambassador Stevens, Sean Smith, and your friends Ty Woods and Glen Doherty were killed in Benghazi, I knew I had to do something. Politicians left them to die. Politicians who would never be held accountable. So I transferred to English at Berkeley and then went to Columbia School of Journalism for my master’s. That’s where I started work on The Benghazi Betrayal.” She paused. “Sorry to get so serious.”
“In vino veritas,” Reece said, bringing the red wine to his lips.
“ ‘In wine lies the truth.’ I knew I liked you, Mr. Reece.”
“What do you think of the elk?”
“It’s delicious. I could eat this every night.”
“That’s good because it’s about all we really have available,” the former frogman said with a wink.
“It’s so peaceful, Reece. I can see why you came here.”
“This feels like home. I felt this way in Mozambique until they found me.”
“What did you think about when you were in Africa?” Katie wondered aloud.
“Ah, a lot of things, I guess. I went to Mozambique to die and ended up learning to live again. I found purpose out there, using my old skills to counter the poachers. I thought about my family. And, I thought a lot about the people who had helped me in the U.S. after Lauren and Lucy were killed. I wondered if I’d put them in danger or if the government was going to figure out who had assisted and take legal action against them.”
Katie nodded and gazed into her glass.
“And,” Reece continued, “I thought about you.”
“You did?”
“That might have been the only thing that kept me alive. This sounds strange, but even though I thought I was dying, thinking of you gave me hope.”
Katie swallowed, her eyes misting over as she thought of all he’d been through.
“I thought of you, too, James. It drove me crazy not knowing if you were dead or alive.”
“I’d been living for so long thinking I was a dead man, I didn’t know how to live believing I had a future.”
“And now?”
“And now I’m figuring out that future.”
Katie took a breath.
“Well, this is certainly a good place to do it,” she said, looking around the spacious lakefront cabin.
“I think so,” Reece confirmed.
“Now on to more important topics, like if there is any more Mockingbird Blue?” Katie asked, holding up her empty glass.
Katie moved to the living area as Reece refilled their glasses from the decanter in the kitchen. She sat on the couch, her legs pulled beneath her.
Reece carefully handed her the wine before taking a seat, her knee lightly touching his thigh. They were both aware of the contact and neither made an effort to move.
“Are you going to go back to work for them?” She didn’t have to specify whom she meant by “them.”
“Possibly. I’m connected as a contractor right now. There’s something I need to do, and they might be the only ones who can help.”
Reece didn’t offer more, and Katie didn’t push, instead asking, “When you got quiet out by the fire, what were you thinking about?”
Reece paused. “What I always think about when the sun sets: that somewhere the enemy is out there, planning, getting ready to hit us again, and that there are a select few getting ready to take the fight to them.”
“Do you feel guilty that you are not with them?”
She was extremely perceptive, from a women’s intuition or a journalist’s savvy, Reece wasn’t sure.
“Not really guilt. It’s more like I feel a responsibility to keep fighting.”
She put her hand on his. “You’re safe here, James. Take some time. I’m here to help.”
They each took long sips of wine and stared into the fireplace. Reece broke the silence first. “I don’t know how safe it is. What