Captain Wes Masters did not need rescuing—and she was nobody’s savior.

Uncomfortable with her own discomfort, Evyn pulled her cell phone out and punched the icon for contacts. She flicked a fingertip over the screen, scrolling through the list, surprised at the number of names she could no longer put with faces and how many more there were than she’d thought. What had she been doing the last eight years? She could name every one of her postings and list each of her on-the-job accomplishments, but she could barely remember half the women she had known at least well enough to get a phone number.

On the verge of closing the phone to escape any more forced retrospection, she spied a name she did recognize. She even knew her address. Quickly, before she could subject herself to the third degree as to exactly what she was doing, she highlighted the number and pressed Send. Pulling her coat even closer around herself as the heater warred with Mother Nature, she waited.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Louise? This is Evyn Daniels.”

A second’s pause made Evyn’s stomach drop. Then, “Evyn? God, it’s been what, a year?”

Evyn felt her face heat in the cold car. “Maybe not that long,” she said quickly. “I’ve been traveling a lot. Out of town on business. I’m sorry I didn’t—”

“Hey, that’s no problem. I’ve been really busy myself. I landed a spot in one of the repertory theaters here in DC and I’ve been working steadily.”

Evyn searched her memory for some hint of what Louise had told her about her acting career, but all she could remember is where they’d met—a spinoff party from one of the bigger lesbian circuit events—and where they’d ended up. In bed in Louise’s apartment, urgent and sweaty and desperate for fulfillment. The night had morphed into three days, and then Evyn was back on rotation and life went on. And she’d never called, never even looked back. Until now. Feeling a bit like a jerk, she said, “I was wondering—I know it’s short notice—but about tonight. Maybe we could—”

“Tonight?” She heard soft laughter. “Have you looked out the window? This is supposed to keep up all night. My super-exciting plans for the evening are to make some hot cider, sit in front of the television with Netflix and a bowl of popcorn, and turn in early.”

“I guess I can’t persuade you to change those exciting plans?”

“You might, if the evening included dinner, but the weath—”

“I’m already out. Dinner sounds like a good place to start.” Evyn winced at her really bad come-on line. When had she gotten so shallow? She turned her wipers on and watched the thin blades bend and scrape while pushing against the half inch of heavy new snow. The snow was coming down harder now and the sidewalks were empty. Cars crawled by, their headlights dull cataracts behind a curtain of snow. In an hour, the city would be gridlocked. She ought to sack out in the down room in the OEOB instead of going anywhere. At least she’d get to work in the morning. “How about I pick you up in forty-five minutes. You pick the place.”

“I’ve got an even better idea—if you’re really going to come over here, then let’s stay in. I’ll cook.”

“Oh, that’s no fair. I don’t want you to have to work.” Hell, Louise was too nice and she was a jerk.

“I don’t mind, if you don’t mind something simple.”

“Well, sure, but—” Evyn didn’t want to drive home—not because of the storm, but because she didn’t want to face brainless TV and an uninspired frozen dinner or the warmed-up pizza she’d had three days before. So she opted for company—nothing wrong with that on the surface, or there wouldn’t have been if an evening with Louise wasn’t just a way to keep her from sitting around thinking about Wes. And that was enough to push her to say, “Yes. Okay, great. I’d like that. I’ll grab some wine—is that all right?”

“Perfect. I’ll see you soon, and be careful out there.”

“Always,” Evyn said, knowing even as the words left her mouth she was bluffing. Careful wasn’t really part of her modus operandi. She was a risk taker, the first to volunteer, the first to rise to a challenge. She wasn’t being careful around Wes Masters, and she wasn’t thinking about where she was headed. Not smart at all. Good thing she knew better than to let her private affairs bleed over into work. None of that had changed, and she didn’t intend it to. Wes Masters was off-limits and staying that way.

*

A thirty-something brunette in a crisp white shirt and sharply creased navy blue trousers walked out of the AOD’s office with a stethoscope slung around her neck and stopped when she saw Wes. Saluting, she said, “Captain, I’m First Lieutenant Jennifer Pattee, a nurse with the WHMU.”

“Lieutenant,” Wes said, returning the salute. She was in uniform, the lieutenant wasn’t, suggesting the WHMU was geared toward medicine and not military customs. She had no problem with that. “Captain Wes Masters.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The dark-haired woman smiled tentatively. “Welcome aboard, ma’am.”

“Thank you. Are you the AOD?”

“Yes, ma’am. There’s also a nurse, Major Mark Beecher, on duty. He just went to grab us some dinner.”

“Just the two of you?”

“No, ma’am. Colonel Dunbar is the MD on call—he’s backup and in the on-call suite right now.”

“Quiet down here.”

The lieutenant smiled, more widely this time. “Activity varies, ma’am. During the day, when the House is filled with visitors, staff, and legislators coming and going from the Hill, we get quite a lot of activity. In addition, there are several hundred full-time House staffers rotating around the clock, and we render medical care to all of them. Of course, during a State visit—” She broke off abruptly. “Sorry, I’m sure you know all this.”

Wes made a decision on the spot. She’d learned early in life to take lessons from everyone, anywhere she could. On the front line, rank often lost its significance. She was in command of the WHMU, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t utilize every resource possible. “Actually, no. I haven’t been read in on routine around here.”

“Well then, I’m sure Peter—Commander Chang—or Colonel Dunbar will brief you. Commander Chang is off rotation right now. He had duty at the wedding.”

“Yes, I met the commander briefly. If I’m not on-site,” Wes said, “you and the others can reach me by voice or text anytime. I just wanted to get the lay of the land tonight. I won’t be taking call for a few days yet.”

“Care for a tour, then, Captain?”

“I would.”

“This is the clinic area, obviously.” Jennifer pivoted and swept her arm to take in the hallway. “As you can see, four exam rooms, a fully stocked treatment room, and the admitting office over here.”

Wes followed the lieutenant from room to room, noting the treatment room with state-of-the-art monitors, instruments, anesthesia carts, and OR table. Enough to perform emergency surgery. “Are we approved for general anesthesia here?”

“Yes, ma’am. One person on every shift is anesthesia certified. We can handle any medical or surgical emergency that comes our way.”

After they completed the circuit of the clinic area, Jennifer took Wes to a conference room that doubled as a lounge and poured them both steaming cups of coffee from a large stainless-steel urn.

“Thanks.” Wes pulled out a chair at the long wooden table and Jennifer sat opposite her. “What’s the protocol for evacuation?”

“If we needed to transport the president, Marine One would fly him to Bethesda. We also use George Washington and Howard.”

“I want to review the protocols for medical and surgical emergencies. Are they available on a hard drive?”

“On the computer in Dr. O’Shaughnessy’s—sorry, in your office.”

Wes nodded. “I haven’t had the official tour—is that down here too?”

“No.” Jennifer colored. “Sorry. That’s in the West Wing.”

“Then I’ll find it tomorrow.”

Wes rose, disposed of her coffee cup, and picked up her coat. “I appreciate the introduction. How do I reach everyone to schedule a meeting?”

“All of our pagers, phone numbers, and addresses will be in your office. If there’s anything you need, I’d be happy to help you.”

“I appreciate that, Lieutenant. I’m sure you have more important duties.”

“The unit is my duty, ma’am. I’m happy to help.”

“Thanks.”

Jennifer held her gaze, her dark eyes warmer than they had been earlier. “My pleasure, ma’am.”

“Well,” Wes said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jennifer saluted.

Wes returned the salute. “We can dispense with the formalities among ourselves, Lieutenant.”

“Very good. Good night, Captain.”

“Good night.”

Wes followed the course she had taken with Evyn back to the exit. The night was dark, cold, and snowy. Buttoning her overcoat, she wondered briefly if Evyn was somewhere cursing the stormy weather. Wes didn’t mind the snow—especially as it was falling. The pristine coating of white made the world look somehow innocent and hopeful, as if every possibility existed just around the corner. She walked toward Pennsylvania Avenue to find a cab, snowflakes melting on her face. An unfamiliar ache centered in her chest, different from the occasional bouts of restless uncertainty she usually shrugged off with work or a workout. Tonight the storm’s beauty stirred a surge of melancholy, a wish for something she couldn’t define. Uncertainty was a strange and disquieting sensation. She’d always been able to see exactly what the future held for her. She waved a cab down and jogged toward the idling vehicle, determined to throw off the odd mood.

Once inside, she gave him her hotel address and checked her phone. One message.

“Hey, Wes. It’s Emory. Are you in DC? Call me.”

Wes braced her feet as the cab slid around a corner, and punched in Emory’s number. “Hello, Em? It’s Wes.”