her like a child, with care, removing her stockings. Gently, he tugged at the uniform, pulling the slip over her head. She lay before him now, her eyes closed. He admired the beauty of her young body, and he felt unreasonably touched as he saw her eyelids flutter and from her thick, dark lashes, one single tear hesitated before it rolled down her cheek. He bent toward her again, murmuring, “I promise you, it’ll be okay.”
His lips were gentle as he kissed her closed eyelids. He put her under the covers, turned out the light, dressed himself in the dark and told her to stay, to rest, to sleep. He went down and rang for Mr. Taylor. He could always count on the hotel and its discretion; he paid well for it. When he returned, he pulled up the shade. The storm had passed, and bright moonlight flooded the room. He lifted the coverlet and crept in beside her. His body cupped to hers, he clasped her to him, and he felt the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. They slept. During the night, they shifted; as she turned he saw the profile of her lovely face. He reached forward and soft as a butterfly wing he kissed her parted lips, until she awoke. Drowsy, she clung to him and experienced the fires of a deep consuming passion. He felt in her something very different. She was not like one of the maids whom he had taken in the past, nor was his feeling for her anything remotely like the sleazy lust he experienced in the arms of the scarlet women who laughed drunkenly in the dark. With those, once his lust was spent he couldn’t bear their touch or even their presence. This was not the same. It was not only her fresh loveliness, but something protective, tender, beautiful that had arisen in him. He felt breathless, and there was a deep hollow in his chest. “Kathy…Kathy.” He whispered her name knowing it was not a message or anything he wished to tell her, but a reassurance to himself that she was real, and in that moment he was upon her, in her, a part of her, and he felt strange and foolish for he could only compare it to the words in the Bible. In the Biblical sense they were one…one being. His passion was so strong, stronger than anything he had ever known before. He said her name over and over, like a schoolboy with his first love. “Kathy…Kathy…I think I’m in love with you.”
Roughly, he grabbed her heart-shaped chin and held it firm, his eyes shimmering with excitement. “Say it! I know you feel it. Say it!” he commanded.
She licked her lips, feeling mute; she did not remember ever saying it to anyone. Perhaps she had murmured it as a child, she couldn’t be sure. Her lips moved inaudibly.
He gri pped her tighter and demanded, “Say it!”
Finally, in a strangled whisper, she did. “I love you.”
He released her. Later she heard him crying softly. The sound of his sobs made her bold, and she reached out and stroked his hair tenderly like one would quiet a child. He stilled, and they slept till morning.
When he awoke, she was gone. Before he left, he visited the kitchen, where Frieda brusquely told him that Katherine was out. She had sent her to Bailey’s for items that she needed for tonight’s supper. He handed her a small envelope and asked her to give it to Kathy. He checked with the desk and arranged with Mr. Taylor to have Katherine off on Fridays. He paid his bill, leaving an exorbitant tip, then started the twenty-mile drive up the dirt road to his house. When he arrived at Hilltop, Elizabeth opened the door, pale and wan, dressed elegantly in a gray woolen dress. He kissed her cheek. As she chattered on about new drapes for the study, he was certain he had never loved her.
Katherine returned from the errand carrying the bags of supplies, puzzled, for Frieda had ordered items that were already in the cupboard. Silently, they put the food away. She glanced towards the key-board; the older woman did not miss her glance. “He’s gone,” she said. “His key’s up there.”
“ Oh,” Katherine
His lips were gentle as he kissed her closed eyelids. He put her under the covers, turned out the light, dressed himself in the dark and told her to stay, to rest, to sleep. He went down and rang for Mr. Taylor. He could always count on the hotel and its discretion; he paid well for it. When he returned, he pulled up the shade. The storm had passed, and bright moonlight flooded the room. He lifted the coverlet and crept in beside her. His body cupped to hers, he clasped her to him, and he felt the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. They slept. During the night, they shifted; as she turned he saw the profile of her lovely face. He reached forward and soft as a butterfly wing he kissed her parted lips, until she awoke. Drowsy, she clung to him and experienced the fires of a deep consuming passion. He felt in her something very different. She was not like one of the maids whom he had taken in the past, nor was his feeling for her anything remotely like the sleazy lust he experienced in the arms of the scarlet women who laughed drunkenly in the dark. With those, once his lust was spent he couldn’t bear their touch or even their presence. This was not the same. It was not only her fresh loveliness, but something protective, tender, beautiful that had arisen in him. He felt breathless, and there was a deep hollow in his chest. “Kathy…Kathy.” He whispered her name knowing it was not a message or anything he wished to tell her, but a reassurance to himself that she was real, and in that moment he was upon her, in her, a part of her, and he felt strange and foolish for he could only compare it to the words in the Bible. In the Biblical sense they were one…one being. His passion was so strong, stronger than anything he had ever known before. He said her name over and over, like a schoolboy with his first love. “Kathy…Kathy…I think I’m in love with you.”
Roughly, he grabbed her heart-shaped chin and held it firm, his eyes shimmering with excitement. “Say it! I know you feel it. Say it!” he commanded.
She licked her lips, feeling mute; she did not remember ever saying it to anyone. Perhaps she had murmured it as a child, she couldn’t be sure. Her lips moved inaudibly.
He gri pped her tighter and demanded, “Say it!”
Finally, in a strangled whisper, she did. “I love you.”
He released her. Later she heard him crying softly. The sound of his sobs made her bold, and she reached out and stroked his hair tenderly like one would quiet a child. He stilled, and they slept till morning.
When he awoke, she was gone. Before he left, he visited the kitchen, where Frieda brusquely told him that Katherine was out. She had sent her to Bailey’s for items that she needed for tonight’s supper. He handed her a small envelope and asked her to give it to Kathy. He checked with the desk and arranged with Mr. Taylor to have Katherine off on Fridays. He paid his bill, leaving an exorbitant tip, then started the twenty-mile drive up the dirt road to his house. When he arrived at Hilltop, Elizabeth opened the door, pale and wan, dressed elegantly in a gray woolen dress. He kissed her cheek. As she chattered on about new drapes for the study, he was certain he had never loved her.
Katherine returned from the errand carrying the bags of supplies, puzzled, for Frieda had ordered items that were already in the cupboard. Silently, they put the food away. She glanced towards the key-board; the older woman did not miss her glance. “He’s gone,” she said. “His key’s up there.”
“ Oh,” Katherine
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