"I can take care of myself," she retorted with a calm equal to his.
"I’m not so sure," Joe said. "You’d better watch your step."
"Oh, I will," she promised with frigid politeness. "But I can assure you that Shawn is a perfect gentleman, although it’s nice to have you do my worrying for me."
Joe stopped, confronting her. "Look, Laura, I only want what’s best for you. I always have." He hesitated, and their eyes locked. "You above anyone else should know that."
She knew that Joe cared, and she wouldn’t belittle his advice. She just wished he would act more like a jealous suitor than a big brother who was only looking out for her welfare.
Later, as she climbed the stairs to her room, Laura frowned. The day had started out so light and airy and had ended dark and stifling. What had caused it? Certainly not Joe and Shawn, at last meeting one another face-to-face. What was it, then? Perhaps, Laura conceded, it was herself. She was confused and muddled. One day she was in love with Joe and the next day with Shawn. How could that be? Could you be in love with two men at the same time? She knew, though, that her Saturday night dances with Shawn were more romantic than the Friday night movies with Joe. But Joe was so kind and so steady. Although Joe held her hand and brushed her lips with a kiss, he still treated her like a kid sister. Her anger flared again. Watch her step with Shawn, indeed! She was sixteen, and her mother had been married at seventeen.
Chapter Ten
The dance hall was lit by colored lanterns, and the overhead fans gently wafted the streamers trimmed with silver stars back and forth. The army dance was one of the most beautiful and festive that Laura had ever attended. She knew her beaded emerald dress enhanced her wide green eyes, and as she went back to the table after doing the two-step with Shawn, she felt as light as the plume that swung in her headband. She had chosen not to pin her hair back but let it fall over her shoulders.
Suddenly Shawn rose on tiptoe, plucked a sparkling star from a streamer, and tucked the piece of glitter in her hair. "Your eyes shimmer more than the star," he said as he held out her chair.
Breathless, she sank down while Shawn ordered two colas. "Oh," she said, fanning herself with her lace hanky, "that was fun. You’re a wonderful dance teacher, Shawn."
He reached over and stroked her cheek. "And you’re a wonderful student — quick, agile, and graceful. What’s more, I’m the envy of the regiment." Jerking a thumb over his shoulder he said, "Did you see the captain back there? He’s been watching you all evening!"
She glanced in the direction Shawn indicated and noticed a tall soldier, with many ribbons across his chest, staring at her. Hastily she averted her eyes.
"You make the war recede in the distance," she said, laughing. "Every time I’m with you I forget everything. It’s hard to believe that on Monday the routine will start all over again and I’ll go back to drills, knitting, and suffragists' meetings."
"The suffragists." Shawn snorted, shooting an eyebrow upward. "They certainly aren’t helping the war effort." He took her hand. "They are the laughingstock of the guards at the White House. What do those women hope to accomplish?" He leaned back, his blue eyes glittering but with a grin splashing across his face. "They’d be better off staying at home, keeping a good man happy." The blue of his eyes darkened while he lightly caressed the inside of her wrist.
As his fingers slid up her arm, she felt her blood tingle, longing for those firm lips to kiss her. But she wouldn’t let Shawn sway her into denying the suffragists and belittling what Miss Paul was trying to do. She knew better than to discuss the suffragists with him, because he always mocked their activities, refusing to see what they stood for. She had tried before to explain, and unconsciously, she lifted a shoulder, realizing it was useless. Gently she withdrew her hand. It was necessary to show him that she wouldn’t be influenced by his touch, although every time he came near, her knees weakened. She mustn’t let her feelings for Shawn block out her beliefs.
Clearing her throat, she switched to another topic. "I’ve read that the flu has reached a few army camps in Massachusetts. I hope Washington will be isolated from it."
Abruptly Shawn leaped up. "Hear that music? No more talk of suffragists or influenza." He offered her his arm. "Let’s see how well you remember the steps to the foxtrot."
Forgetting how Shawn closed his mind to unpleasant subjects and how much it annoyed her, she rose and, laughing, followed him onto the dance floor. The fast-paced number sent her feet flying to keep up with him. The thumping rhythm matched her racing blood.
Twirling her out and back, they danced apart, and she kept her eyes glued to Shawn’s. His wide smile and flashing white teeth entranced her. How trimly his dress uniform fit his muscled, lean body. If he thought she was the prettiest girl here, she was positive he was the handsomest soldier.
On the way home she thought that April was her favorite month, for she loved cherry blossom time when the small trees burst into thousands of snowy white blossoms. Tonight, in the moonlight, the sight was particularly spectacular.
"Shall we stop and take a walk?" Shawn asked, slowing the car.
"I can’t," she said reluctantly. "It’s almost midnight and Mom will be waiting for me."
Groaning, Shawn pressed his boot to the accelerator and sped forward. When they reached home, a light in the parlor indicated that her mother was indeed sitting up. The tower clock at the university chimed twelve bells, and she grinned with satisfaction. "Right on time."
On the steps Shawn brushed her cheek lightly, then firmly pulled her to him, kissing her lips. With a motion she couldn’t stop, her arms twined around Shawn’s neck. His desires were her desires, and she couldn’t obtain enough of his warmth and love.
All at once an upstairs window banged closed and she guiltily stepped back. Was it Joe at the window above? Had he seen their embrace?
Taking a shaky breath she whispered, "Good night, Shawn."
"Good night, sweetheart." He pulled her back and his gaze pinned her to him, but he didn’t kiss her again. Instead he said in a husky voice, "Next Saturday?"
"I’m not sure," she lied, knowing that there was a suffragist meeting scheduled. "Call me." She didn’t want to start another argument.
He studied her face, then brushed back a fallen lock of hair. "Be careful, darling. There will be a lot of suffragist arrests during the month of May. The rumor is out that President Wilson is tired of having his limousine flanked by fanatical women every time he drives through the gates."
She stiffened, turning to open the door. "Thanks for the warning, but I hope I am arrested!" she retorted tersely.
"Don’t be ridiculous," he snapped, grabbing her wrist and holding it in a viselike grip.
With one hand on the doorknob she tried to twist free but was no match for his strength. Confronting him, she said coldly, "Please let me go!"
He dropped her wrist and said gently, "Oh, Laura, please. I only told you for your own good."
"I know," she said, unable to remain angry with Shawn. His advice was meant for her own well-being, so why should she resent it?
"I’ll call you this week." His grin reappeared, and the old bravado crept back into his voice as he stood with his head cocked to one side and a hand on his hip.
She blew him a kiss to show that all was forgiven… as if he didn’t know it, she thought with a smile.
Closing the door, she wondered how many times Shawn had laughed at Joe, and the suffragists, and the motorcade unit. Why did she put up with him? But when her fingertips touched her lips, she knew why. His charm more than outweighed his attitude about other things. Besides, she meant to change his viewpoint on a few topics.