Oath of Honor

Someone needed to remind Americans of the true path. Andrew Powell

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needed to be removed from office. His daughter, who Powell flaunted

in the face of God-fearing people, was a sinner, even more so for her

insistence on pushing her unholy relationship in the faces of good

Americans. Blair Powell was becoming a national icon, and that too

must end. He wouldn’t rest until both were gone.

v

“So,” Evyn said, pushing her empty dishes aside and drawing her

coffee cup nearer, “do you come from a family of doctors?”

Wes carefully placed her fork beside her plate and reached for

her espresso. They’d spent most of the meal talking about the job—the

daily briefings between PPD and the WHMU, coordinating schedules,

protocol when POTUS traveled, security and medical preparation for

potential threats—safe topics. This one wasn’t so safe, and she was

a little surprised that Evyn, who had maintained a cool professional

distance all night, breached the neutral zone into something personal.

“Sorry,” Evyn said with no inflection, “is that a sensitive

subject?”

Wes shook her head. “No, it isn’t. Sorry. I was just thinking.” She

waited while the server cleared their places. “I’m the middle child,

more or less, of four, and the first in my family to go to college. My

mother and father were blue-collar workers. My mother in the garment

industry, my father on the docks. He died in an accident when I was

six.” “Hey, I’m sorry. If this is—”

“No, that’s okay. I have a great family. I grew up in my

grandmother’s house in South Philadelphia with my mother and my

sisters. It was pretty crowded, but it was…” She thought about the

shared bedrooms, the squabbles over the bathroom in the morning, the

big wooden table in the sunny kitchen smelling of home-cooked food,

counters crowded with dishes and everyone jostling for a place at the

table. “It was noisy and warm and full of life.” She smiled. “It was

great.” She looked up from her espresso. Evyn was staring at her as if

she were a stranger. She wondered what she had just revealed and then

realized it didn’t matter. She had nothing to hide.

“You miss them,” Evyn said softly.

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Oath Of hOnOr

“Every day.” Wes’s chest tightened, as much from the tenderness

in Evyn’s eyes as from the memories.

Evyn sipped her coffee. “Okay—not following in the family mold

like me. Why did you want to be a doctor?”

Wes laughed. “You know, I practiced that answer a hundred times

when I was applying to medical school, knowing I would be asked about

it over and over again. I never did have a very good answer. I just knew

I wanted to touch people. Make a difference somehow.” She looked

out across the empty restaurant. They were the last ones at a table, but

the servers hadn’t rushed them and none were in sight now. They were

alone. She hadn’t been alone with a woman in longer than she could

remember. She didn’t date—given her circumstances it wasn’t that easy.

She might not necessarily agree with all the navy’s regulations, but

she followed them. Most women she might have connected with were

below her rank and off-limits. She sometimes thought that might be a

convenient excuse, but then, what did that matter. If she was fooling

anyone, it was only herself. No harm, no foul. And those rare nights

when she was restless and vaguely unsettled, she went for a run until

she was tired enough to sleep.

Wes caught herself up short. This wasn’t a date, even if the whole

evening was something out of the ordinary. Evyn was still watching

her. What had Evyn asked? Oh, the “why a doctor?” question. She

almost gave a stock reply, but the intensity of Evyn’s gaze derailed her.

“Maybe I thought if I made a difference in someone else’s life, it would

make mine mean more.”

“Sounds like you got your wish, then. You’re about to have a

patient whose health affects the whole world.” Evyn paused. “Does

that make the job harder?”

“No,” Wes said instantly. “If and when the time comes he’s my

patient—and hopefully that day never comes—I’ll be taking care of

Andrew Powell, not the president.”

“His office doesn’t intimidate you?”

“No, but Lucinda Washburn does,” Wes said, laughing.

“You and everyone else.” Evyn grinned.

“What about you? You said you always knew what you wanted to

do?” For a few seconds, Wes thought Evyn wouldn’t answer. Sometimes

Evyn’s face closed so quickly it was like watching shutters slam against

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a window in a storm. Then Evyn’s posture relaxed and she smiled, and

the shutters opened once again and sunlight streamed through. “Well,

come on. In my family? Like there was really anything else to consider.

Don’t we all want to grow up like our heroes?”

“So who was yours?”

“Oh, my father, no question. He’s big and blustery and solid and

brave. I didn’t get to be big, but I hope…” Even in the dim candlelight,

her blush was apparent. “Never mind.”

“You hope you’re solid and brave?”

“Geez, forget I said that, will you?”