She smiled. "I guess I was talking too fast, but it’s so good to have you here and to tell you what’s been happening. You’re the only one that I can talk to about the suffragists," she ended lamely.

"I read about the arrests in the Post," he said. "What spunk! No wonder you’re a suffragist. I’m only surprised you didn’t join them when you were twelve!" He shook his head and his face sobered. "But burning the President’s speeches! That’s serious. Some folks look on that as treason, and they’ll be alienated from your cause."

"That’s too bad," she retorted sharply. "We’ve waited too long as it is for Wilson’s promises to be fulfilled, but he never delivers."

Joe stood up and walked to her chair. "Laura, let’s walk over to the gazebo in the park." He offered her his hand.

"That would be fun," she said, happy at last for his attention.

Sitting in the gazebo with the lindens and weeping willows all around them, she longed for Joe to take her hand, but he was too engrossed in asking her questions.

"… and what is this drama reading you’re doing?"

"I’m preparing excerpts from the Pankhurst journals."

"The Pankhursts were early suffragists, weren’t they?"

She nodded. "They’re called suffragettes in England. Alice Paul demonstrated with Mrs. Pankhurst and learned many techniques from her."

"Just be careful you don’t upset your teacher right at the beginning of the year. Remember Mr. Blair!"

She shuddered. "How could I forget him? No, this assignment on journals and diaries is for English class. Miss Foster is very understanding." She stopped and observed him. "Now it’s your turn to talk. How is boot training?"

"It’s not too bad," he said, slinging his arm atop the balustrade behind her. "We’ve learned how to take a rifle apart, put it back together, how to clean it, how to stand formation, how to march step, how to make a bed, and how to pack a knapsack. Nothing very exciting, like your suffragist meetings!"

Ignoring his friendly barb, she asked, "What’s Fort Myer like?"

"Fort Myer? Bustling. It used to be only for ceremonial troops, escorts, and firing squads for military funerals. Now there are ten thousand of us there."

"Do you like your officers? I hope you don’t have anyone like Mr. Blair."

"Worse. My commanding officer is Colonel King, who’s a real tyrant. In the two weeks I’ve been there, the only orders he’s given are with a shout or a growl." He gave a low chuckle. "It will almost be a relief to be sent overseas, just to get away from him."

Her heart stopped. "Overseas?" she said weakly. Why hadn’t she thought of that? "When will you be leaving?"

"Our sailing date is November fifteenth."

"I’ll write to you," she said shakily, not able to think of a response. If only he could be stationed in Washington like Shawn!

"By the way," he casually asked, "how’s Shawn?"

Startled, she hesitated. Should she tell him how much she was seeing him? "He’s fine," she said brightly. "I haven’t seen him for a while." Not since last week, she thought, but Joe didn’t need to know that. She wouldn’t tell him that Shawn was coming later this afternoon, either. She didn’t know why she was trying to hide these facts from Joe; she only knew she wanted his undivided attention with no complications about Shawn. Briefly she wondered if Joe would care how often she had been seeing Shawn. She sighed. Probably not. The turmoil she felt was the same old story. Shawn was such a delight, but so was Joe. It must have been nice to have things so clear-cut as when Sarah had Frank.

He rose abruptly. "Time to go. The sun is moving westward, and I need to pack."

"Will you be coming home soon?" she asked hopefully.

"Once in October and once before I sail."

She nodded dumbly, not saying anything. She couldn’t. Her heart was too full.

He reached for her hand, and it felt so good to have him enclose her hand in his.

As they turned down Cherry Alley her pulse beat faster, for there on the front doorstep stood Shawn. He was early.

"Well, well," Shawn said, stepping down to meet them. "I got off duty early. I didn’t expect to get here this soon." He cast a glance in Laura’s direction. "Obviously," he said drily, "neither did you."

"Shawn," she said, a trifle nervously. "Joe was home from camp this weekend and I wanted to talk to him… to ask his advice about a few things." Another lie, she thought. Why did she do it? How could she juggle the two of them and try to keep them in separate compartments? She glanced uneasily at Joe, who was looking at her with a faintly amused expression. He knew now she had been seeing Shawn and frequently. He knew, too, that she hadn’t asked his advice, about anything.

Shawn stood with his arms folded, looking Joe up and down. "I see you finally joined the army," he said. He paused. "Or were you drafted?" His wide-brimmed hat was cocked jauntily to one side.

Joe said nothing but his black eyes flashed.

Shawn smiled, but his blue eyes were chips of ice. "Listen, Joe. Laura doesn’t need a guide anymore. I know all about how you helped watch over her growing up years and it’s a very touching story, but Laura’s a big girl now." He jabbed a finger against Joe’s shoulder. "I’ll thank you to keep away from her!"

"Do you have a claim on Laura?" Joe asked softly.

"Look," Shawn said, "Laura and I have plans for this afternoon, so why don’t you take off?"

"I’ll repeat my question," Joe said levelly. "Do you have a claim on Laura?"

Shawn looked boldly at Laura and puffed out his chest. "She’s my girl," he said proudly. "Take my word for it, Joe. She doesn’t need or want you anymore."

"Is that true, Laura?" Joe’s eyes were flinty.

Stricken, she started to reply, but the words choked in her throat.

"Why don’t you beat it," Shawn said, jerking his thumb beyond his shoulder. "You’re not wanted here!"

Joe looked bitterly first at Shawn and then at Laura. "I can see that."

"And when you come back again," Shawn said, bunching his fists, "don’t see Laura!"

"We’ll settle this later," Joe muttered, attempting to brush past, but Shawn, with both hands on Joe’s chest, gave him a short shove backward.

When Shawn repeated the shove, Joe flushed angrily, holding up his fists.

Immediately Shawn jabbed at Joe’s face and Joe’s head snapped back. With another quick stab Shawn bloodied Joe’s nose.

Joe pushed Shawn, causing him to fall backward and his hat to fly off. Scrambling to his feet, Shawn furiously attacked Joe, hitting his chest and face.

"Stop it!" Laura yelled. "Both of you. You’re behaving like ten-year-olds!" She thrust herself between them, and with hands defiantly on her hips, she dared either one to push her aside.

Pulling a handkerchief from his back pocket, Joe wiped his nose. The white square soon had bright red splotches on it.

Laura ran to Joe. "Oh, Joe, are you hurt?"

"Only a bloody nose," he answered ruefully. "Your friend Shawn is a bit too feisty." He cast a baleful look at Shawn.

"I’m so sorry," she whispered, brushing off his jacket.

"Forget it," he said abruptly, scooping up his hat. "I’ve got to go, Laura."

"I know," she responded in a low voice. "I’ll miss you."

Joe’s eyes had a mocking twinkle. "It seems you won’t be too lonesome."

She put a deterring hand on his sleeve. "Good-bye, Joe. Hurry home." She looked into his eyes, but the corresponding warmth she wanted to see wasn’t there. "I hope to see you next month."

He quickly patted her hand, still holding a hanky to his nose. "Good-bye, Laura."

"Maybe you’d like a black eye to go with that bloody nose," Shawn said, pulling Laura near him.

"Next time we’ll see who gets the bloody nose," Joe said between clenched teeth. Wheeling around, he strode around the corner of the house.

Furious, Laura spun around. "What’s wrong with you, Shawn O’Brien? Can’t you get it through that thick skull of yours that Joe’s my friend?"

Shawn picked up his hat, slapping the dust off his trouser leg. His reddened face was gradually returning to normal.

"Now, Laura, me girl, me sweet colleen," he said in an Irish brogue. "Sure an' you can’t blame a fellow for lovin' the likes of you." His eyes were as appealing as a spaniel’s, and a smile played about his mouth. "You can’t blame me, can you now?" he wheedled, approaching her.

She held up her hands. "Stay away from me, Shawn."

Heedless of her warning, his fingers walked up her arm. "I’m sorry, sweetness. I really am. But how do you think I felt when I came to take out my best girl and saw her walking toward me, holding hands with some other fellow?"

Her heart sank. Shawn was right, of course. He must have been upset. She attempted a small smile. "I’m sorry, too, Shawn, but after what happened I don’t much feel like going out and having a good time."

Shawn’s blue eyes shadowed, but he said lightly, "Let’s just walk over to the zoo like we planned and watch the monkeys. They’ll make us laugh and we’ll forget this whole thing."

She shook her head reproachfully. "I don’t feel much like laughing, Shawn."

He shifted his feet, eyeing her. "If that’s what you want. I guess I’ll just have to go with Melinda, General Long’s daughter, instead," he said with a grin, but she wondered if the statement wasn’t too far from the truth. He pulled on his ear and smiled at her. "Can we start over again next Saturday night?"