Lone eagle

She was willing to believe he was a good man, but not necessarily the right one for Kate. Liz didn't think Joe had the makings of a good husband. His life was full of danger and risk, which wasn't what she wanted for Kate. She wanted her to have a comfortable, happy life, with a man who wanted to do nothing more dangerous than step outside the house to pick up the morning paper. Elizabeth had protected Kate all her life, from danger, from harm, from illness, from pain, but the one thing she couldn't protect her from, she feared now, was heartbreak.

Kate had had more than enough of that when her father died. And Elizabeth knew that if Joe and Kate fell in love, there was no way she could protect her daughter. He was far too alluring, and far too exciting. Even his reticence was appealing, it made one want to reach out and help him over the walls he had built around himself. And she could see Kate do it at dinner. She was making every effort to put him at ease and draw him out.

Kate wanted to make him comfortable, and help him feel at home.

She didn't even know she was doing it. And as Elizabeth watched them, she knew the worst had already happened. More than Kate herself even knew, her mother sensed correctly that Kate already loved him. What Liz was not sure of was what Joe felt for her. Attraction certainly, and a kind of magnetic pull that he was having trouble resisting, but what lay beyond that, no one knew, not even Joe at this point. Elizabeth felt certain that whatever he felt for Kate, he was trying to resist, but without success.

And as they left the dinner table, her husband whispered to her reassuringly, as he put an arm around her shoulders. “You see, they're just friends… I told you…” Clearly, he didn't see what she did.

“What makes you think so?” she said sadly.

“Look at them, they're talking like old friends. He treats her like a child most of the time. He teases her like a little sister.”

“I think they're in love with each other,” she said, as they hung back for a moment from the others.

They had had a nice group of friends to dinner, and Joe had been a valuable addition. It wasn't his dinner table conversation that concerned her, but his intentions about Kate.

“You're an incurable romantic, my love,” Clarke said, and then kissed her.

“No, I'm not unfortunately,” she said sensibly. “I think I'm being a cynic, or maybe just a realist. I don't want him to hurt her, and he could. Very badly. I don't want that to happen to her.