TWENTY-FIVE

Deborah Jordan was struggling with the urge to call. It had only been twenty-four hours since she and Ethan had separated at Hawk’s Nest. Ethan was at a job interview at a tech company in Denver, while Deborah remained at her family’s Rocky Mountain mansion. As she sat next to the phone, she thought about her feelings for him, how surprised she was at the overpowering impulse she felt to contact him. But the logical part of her mind also thought back to her mother’s advice, even though she would have been slow to admit she had been listening.

What do I really know about Ethan?

Deborah had been with him as he packed to leave. She asked him directly about the scar on his cheek and his broken nose. Ethan was just as direct: “A barroom brawl with a Marine. Not proud of it, but there it is. I spent some time in the brig.”

She couldn’t resist a smart-aleck crack: “Just tell me that the Marine didn’t win …”

Ethan guffawed and shot back, “Roger that!” But then, in a moment of honesty he added, “The other guy was a lot smaller.”

Almost instantly Deborah had regretted her joke, proof of how mixed up she felt about Ethan.

Deborah had been quick to offer to drive him to Denver. She was glad he accepted. When she got back to her family’s house, she was already sorry he was gone.

She thought back to their last few moments when she dropped him off. He had pulled his bag out of the backseat of the car as Deborah stood next to him. He smiled and gently put his hand behind her neck. He bent forward. She wanted a kiss on the lips. She got a kiss on the forehead instead.

“Take care of yourself, Deb. I want to see you again soon … if that’s okay.”

She blurted out, “Anytime. Please call me. I need … would like a call. All right? Call me.”

He headed into the hotel but didn’t turn around again. In just seconds he was out of sight.

It was now a day later and he hadn’t called.

On the other hand he was probably absorbed in his job interview. Or whatever.

Deborah sat next to the phone in the great room of the lodge. She had gone riding that morning, through the pasture and down to the river and back. Her big gelding, white with brown spots, used to be her delight. But today riding him just wasn’t the same.

She pulled her little Allfone out of her pocket to make sure it was turned on. Then she gazed back at the phone on the table.

A voice came from behind her. “You can’t make it ring by staring.”

It was Cal.

“Real funny.”

“You aren’t going gaga for this guy are you?”

“Cal, let’s not go there.”

“Whoa, touchy.” Then Cal added, “You see the footage on the news last night, with Dad getting the Medal of Freedom?”

Deborah’s heart sank. She’d been so absorbed with Ethan that she forgot about her dad.

Cal shook his head. “You didn’t see it, did you? … So is Dad going to offer him a job?”

“Don’t know. I hope so.”

“Funny how he refused the request from his own son.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I asked Dad to bring me into the Roundtable somehow and help him and Mom out. Nothing big.”

“What’d he say?”

“Too much risk, which I find ridiculous after what he and I have gone through.”

“I can understand his concern.”

“Oh, really? How?”

“The Roundtable deals with some sensitive information. National security stuff. Highly controversial. There are people in Washington who don’t like what he’s doing. Besides — ”

“What …”

“Let’s be honest. Until recently, you couldn’t be bothered with the kind of issues Dad and Mom deal with: politics, national defense, freedom. You wanted to be an artist.”

“So? I’ve changed my major — and my interests.”

“I respect that. So do Mom and Dad. But this highlevel intelligence stuff, you think you can just jump right into that?”

“Oh, so here we go. You’re the almost-graduate from West Point, and I’m just a nerd at Liberty University. Is that it? Well, there’s only one person in this room who’s gone face-to-face with a terrorist. And you know exactly who that is.”

“I’m not trying to downplay what you went through, but let’s be objective. I’m majoring in defense and strategic studies at one of America’s most prestigious military academies. I’ve studied military history, strategy, counterinsurgency. Up to now your biggest decision was whether to paint in watercolors or acrylics.”

“Ooh, two points sis. Shot right to the heart.”

“Forget it. This discussion is stupid. Besides I’ve got my own professional plans with Dad.”

“Right. I’m sure. Like what?”

Deborah hesitated. There was a part of her that wanted to keep this to herself. But something made her say it. Maybe even flaunt it. “Before he and Mom took off for Washington, I overheard Dad on an international call. Defense guys in Israel are interested in his RTS system. And if he goes to the Middle East, I have every intention of going with him.”

Cal laughed out loud. “Do you really think you can just tell him like that, that you’ve invited yourself along for the ride? This is a guy who won’t even let his own son play fetch-and-carry for the Roundtable, and you think he’ll take you along to a weapons meeting?”

Deborah had had enough. She stood up and threw Cal her potent older-sister look and a final retort to match: “We’ll see, won’t we?”