"More than anything, Jeremy. To go where it's safe. To be where I belong."

A long silence followed; she lay beside him, nestled in his arms.

"It's safe here," she whispered. "In your arms."

"Yes."

She closed her eyes, her mouth upturning in a wistful smile.

"This is New Jersey, isn't it?" she whispered. "And isn't our little farm just over that hill? The one we've retired to?"

"It's a big hill, Kathy."

"I know. I know. We'll never get over it."

A slight breeze rose, rustling the leaves above them, and they watched in silence as rays of sunlight played on their faces.

"Maybe Damien will," whispered Thorn. "Maybe he's a budding young farmer."

"Not likely. He's your son through and through."

Thorn was unresponsive; his eyes were fixed on the leaves.

"He is, you know," Katherine mused. "It's as if I had nothing to do with him at all."

Thorn raised himself on one arm and regarded her saddened expression.

"Why do you say that?" he asked.

She shrugged, not knowing quite how to explain it.

"He's his own man. He doesn't seem to need anybody."

"He just seems that way."

"He's not attached to me like a child is to his mother. Were you attached to your mother?"

"Yes."

"Are you attached to your wife?"

Thorn's eyes met hers and he caressed her face; she kissed his hand.

"I don't ever want to leave this spot," she whispered. "I want to stay here like this."

And she moved her face upward until her lips touched his.

"You know, Kathy," Thorn whispered after a long silence, "when I first met you, I thought you* were the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen."

She smiled at the memory and nodded her head.

"I still think so, Kathy," he whispered. "I still do."

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you so," he responded.

Her mouth tightened, moisture tracing the rims of her closed eyes.

"I almost wish you would never to speak to me again," she whispered. "That's what I want to remember hearing you say."

And when she next opened her eyes, darkness was upon them.

When they returned to Pereford that night, everyone was asleep; they built a large fire in the fireplace, poured themselves wine, and sat snuggled together,^ deep in a soft leather couch.

"Can we do this in the White House?" Katherine asked.

"That's a long way off."

"Can we do this there?"

"Don't see why not."

"Can we be disgusting in the Lincoln bedroom?"

"Disgusting?"

"Carnal."

"In the Lincoln bedroom?"

"Right in his bed?"

"If Lincoln will move over, I guess."

"Oh, he can join in."

Thorn chuckled and pulled her close.

"Have to do something about the tourists, though " added Katherine. "They come through the Lincoln bedroom three times a day."

"We'll lock the door."

"Hell, no. Let's just charge them extra."

He laughed again, delighting in her mood.

"What a tour!" she whispered enthusiastically. "See the President screwing his wife."

"Kathy!"