Matron Campbell cleared her throat. “Never mind that, child. This woman spent every minute she could by your side for days. I think we can dispense with the formalities.”
Johanna shot her a grateful look, and Matron nodded. “Come, Sister Ryan. I think we are needed elsewhere just now.”
When the other women left, Johanna knelt by Ellie’s bed and took her hand. “How are you feeling?”
Ellie groaned. “Like I went through a washerwoman’s wringer. I can barely move.”
“Aye, but you look a good deal better than you have lately. My God, Ellie, I was so worried.”
“So I gathered. You spent your off-duty time here?”
“I did, whenever I could. They tried to shoo me away, but I wouldn’t go.” Johanna squeezed Ellie’s hand. “I just couldn’t leave you.”
“I thought I’d dreamed it,” Ellie said, her eyes filling with tears. “I was aware of people around me, but in my dream, a lovely dark-haired angel came. She had a soothing voice and gentle hands, and she…she told me she loved me.”
“It wasn’t a dream, lass. I’m no angel, but I do love you so.”
Ellie’s chest heaved with great, aching sobs that had her gasping for air.
“Nae, Ellie, don’t cry. You must calm down so you can breathe.” Johanna stroked Ellie’s arm. “That was not the reaction I’d hoped for when I said those words,” she said, trying for levity.
“Oh, Johanna, what will we do?” The despair on Ellie’s face tore at Johanna’s heart.
“What do you mean?”
“The doctor was here before. He said I cannot work, that I must have a long rest. Johanna, my darling, I love you, too, but they’re sending me back to England.”
Johanna’s heart sank as the implications of this news hit home. Of course Ellie was leaving—she’d nearly died, and her lungs needed time to heal. But Johanna was here for the duration, however long that would be. They’d found each other here in the harsh reality of war, somehow out of time, out of place, but Ellie was going back to the real world, to England, to her home. How could their love possibly survive now?
Chapter Seventeen
Three weeks later
The place that had been home for Ellie’s entire life now felt oddly foreign. The house itself was familiar, its gray stone exterior and tall windows solid and reassuring, unlike so many of its French counterparts which now lay in ruins. It was still full of familiar things—brocade chairs and high-backed chesterfields, mahogany sideboards and gilded tables, the same vases on the same pedestals in the same parlor where a telegram had redirected the course of her life. Yes, everything was familiar, but she, Eleanor Winthrop, had fundamentally changed.
She’d been back just a few days, after spending nearly two weeks in a women’s convalescent camp before they’d allowed her to board the ship home. Unable to do much but sit about, she’d begun writing to Johanna. She had no one else with whom she could share her feelings, and she’d never felt so lonely.
My Dearest Johanna,
I’m home now five days, and the inactivity is maddening. I miss you terribly! The convalescent camp was necessary, I suppose, to help me gain strength, but the sister in charge of my care was a bit too heavy-handed for my liking. How I longed for your gentle touch, my darling! My mother hovers over me constantly, as if I might keel over and die at any moment. She doesn’t like that I escape to my room whenever possible, but the last thing I want is to be sociable. I cannot speak of my experiences in France to anyone here—they could never understand.
I have heard that Theo is somewhere near Saint-Omer and has managed to stay alive. My worry for him is overwhelming, having seen what we’ve seen. The two of you are nearly all I can think about, and I hate being here, helpless and weak. How selfish of me to say that, as I rest here in peace while you remain in hell. Still, I would gladly trade my comforts to be with you, my love. I pray every day for your safety and for an end to this war. I grieve for the countless souls who have died, but I can’t help feeling grateful, for without the war, I would never have met you.
I’ve sent along some things that I hope will bring you comfort—please share them with the other sisters with thanks for saving my life. Such small tokens will never repay you all, and I wish I could deliver them myself. When I close my eyes, I think of your arms holding me, and of your sweet kisses. I must survive on my dreams until the day we meet again. Please, God, let it be soon. Write to me.
With love,
Ellie
* * *
Johanna trudged through the days, melancholy weighing her down. Though Ellie had come through the worst of her illness, she’d still been so weak, and not knowing how she was doing now was driving Johanna mad with worry. She’d promised she would write when she got back home, and Johanna had awaited mail call each day, only to have her hopes dashed when no letters arrived. Sick of her heart jerking up and down like a bandalore, she stopped checking.
As she settled onto her cot after another long night shift, Sister Longley burst into their shared quarters. “Look, it’s a parcel from Ellie Winthrop,” she said, holding a box wrapped in brown paper. “Matron asked me to fetch it when I went to mail a letter. Must be she made it home all right, poor girl. How I wish I could be back in England again.”
Johanna barely heard a word beyond Ellie Winthrop as she jumped up and took the package. Sister Longley was hovering, no doubt excited to see what the box contained, but Johanna suddenly wanted her privacy.
“Thank you for bringing it over. I reckon I’ll open it after I’ve had a bit of sleep.” Johanna tucked the box under her cot and slid back beneath the covers, feigning exhaustion with a yawn.
“Oh. Well, then, do tell us how she’s getting on, won’t you?” Johanna felt a twinge of guilt at the disappointment in Sister Longley’s voice, but she wanted to be alone when she opened the parcel.
After several agonizing minutes of waiting with her eyes shut while Longley puttered around, Johanna finally heard her leave. She snatched up the box, gazing at Ellie’s familiar script on the paper. Taking care to save the return address, she tore away the paper and string to find a box, gift-wrapped in lovely paper printed with holly and bows and bound with a red ribbon. She’d forgotten that it was very near Christmastime—it was so easy to lose track of days here. She untied the ribbon, carefully removed the gift wrap, and opened the box, her heart thudding in her chest.
On top lay an envelope addressed to Sister Lennox, and Johanna smiled at Ellie’s attempts to keep up appearances even now. Putting the letter aside, she removed item after item from the box, delighting in her treasures. There was a pair of thick woolen socks, two bars of lavender soap, a volume of Emily Dickinson’s poetry, a box of chocolates, several tins of hand lotion, rose-colored stationery, a pen and felt-wrapped bottle of ink, and a packet of shortbread biscuits.
Johanna lifted the soap to her nose, the heady scent causing a surge of heat in her depths as she thought of the hotel in Paris, and how Ellie had smelled, warm and fragrant from her bath. She closed her eyes and breathed it in, remembering. After several long moments, she picked up the envelope and withdrew the letter inside. Tears flowed unchecked as she read Ellie’s words of love. She seemed worlds away, and Johanna ached inside. Wiping her eyes, she took up the pen, needing to connect with Ellie in the only way she could.
My Dearest Ellie,
I’ve missed you so, and receiving your letter and gifts breathed a new life into me. I am so grateful that you are safe at home, away from this place, even though your absence for me is like a wound that won’t heal. I, too, pray every day for an end to this madness. Before you, I didn’t much care how long the war carried on, having nothing and no one to go home to. Now, the war is far crueler for keeping me from you.
I will share the chocolates and lotions with the other sisters, and I’m sure they’ll be happy to hear of your improved health. You’ll be glad to know that I’ve made friends among them. They were so kind to me when you were ill
. No one seemed to question my devotion to you, and that has earned them my gratitude.
Good news about your brother—I will add my prayers to yours for his safety. Things here have slowed down a bit. We’re receiving many more cases of frostbite, trench fever, and pneumonia than wounded, just now, though the outcome is often just as grim. Four new volunteers arrived a fortnight past, and guess who was sent to meet them? I will never forget my first glimpse of you at the station, all fresh-faced and determined, and so beautiful. I didn’t know I could find a woman so beguiling, and I think I must have fallen for you a wee bit that day. You are the best thing in my life, darling Ellie, and I beg God to make our time apart pass swiftly.
I will sleep with the lavender soap in my pillow and dream every night of holding you and loving you. Please keep writing—your letters will be my lifeblood until I see you again. For now, I’ll send my kisses on the wind.
Yours,
Johanna
Chapter Eighteen
April 1917
“We’ll bloody well beat the Boche now, lads!” Similar cries rose from the crowd of walking wounded that had gathered outside the ward.
Johanna stopped one of the VADs. “What are they going on about out there?”
“I’ll find out, Sister,” the volunteer said. A few moments later, she rushed back in, a huge smile on her face. “The Americans have agreed to join the fight! The men feel sure this will turn the tide. Isn’t it wonderful news?”
“Aye, it is,” she said. With the help of the Americans, perhaps the war truly could be near its end. But why did such exciting news fill her with trepidation? This place had become her life, had seeped into every crevice of her heart and soul. Here, she had a purpose and knew what was expected of her. She was not the same person who had left Scotland a few short years ago. She wanted nothing more than to see Ellie again, but who would they be together without the war to bind them? Her intense longing for Ellie battled with a niggling worry that kept intruding into her mind, growing stronger as the days passed. You will never truly belong with a woman like Ellie.
She shook her head and went about her duties, willing her mind to focus on the here and now. Right now, these men needed her, and in some strange way, she needed them, too.
“Pardon me, Sister?”
Johanna turned to the speaker and gasped. A tall young lieutenant stood there, cap in his uninjured hand. His reddish-blond hair and bright blue eyes reminded her so much of Ellie, it hurt to look at him.
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
“I was wondering if you could help me. I’ve only just arrived, but I think this may be the hospital my sister spoke of. She is with a Voluntary Aid Detachment, you see, and she wrote that she was stationed in Boulogne. Perhaps you know of her?”
Johanna’s eyes flew to his identification tag. T. Winthrop. Oh, Christ. “Theo?”
The young man’s eyes widened. “Why, yes, that’s my name. How…”
“Your sister is Eleanor Winthrop?”
“Yes! My God, is she here?”
Johanna’s heart lurched. “She was. Came down with pneumonia and was sent home, a month ago. She spoke of you often—thank God you’re all right.”
The young man’s face fell. “I had so hoped to see her, but that’s jolly good news she’s gone home.” He held up his bandaged hand. “Lost a couple of fingers, but I can still fire my weapon and drive, so I imagine I’ll be back with my men very soon. Did you know my sister well?”
Johanna swallowed, fighting back tears. “Aye, Ellie is a dear friend, and she was a favorite among the men. Sister Sunshine, they called her.” Her throat ached with emotion. “We miss her very much.”
“Ah, that’s Ellie, a friend to everyone. Every chap in town wanted to marry her, but she always put them off, the poor fellows.”
The thought of Ellie marrying made Johanna’s blood run cold, but she hid her discomfort with a smile. “She was my assistant of sorts here and became quite skilled. What regiment are you with, Lieutenant?”
“We’re with the Fourth London Field Ambulance, Transport Unit. And please, call me Theo. Any friend of Ellie’s is a friend of mine.”
Johanna liked him instantly. “Right, Theo. I’m Sister Lennox—Johanna. How did you get injured?”
“Bloody shell exploded by the supply wagon we were loading. The wagon took the brunt, but we lost one man and a horse besides. Everyone there was wounded—I was damned lucky, I’ll tell you, if you’ll pardon my tongue.” He blushed and ducked his head. “Sorry, ma’am. Got into some bad habits here without my mother censoring my language every five minutes.”
“You’re not offending me. I’ve heard and said worse.” Johanna looked at his dirty, blood-stained field dressing. “No one’s tended to you yet?”
“I’m all right. Just been checking to see that my men are taken care of first.”
The way he cradled his hand and the strain of discomfort on his face told Johanna a different story. “That dressing needs to be changed. Since you’re here, and I’ve just finished my rounds, I’ll see to it. Come, sit.” Johanna pointed Theo to a chair and fetched the supply cart.
Theo winced when she began removing the dressing but said nothing. Johanna peeled the bandages away to find his ring and little fingers gone, a ragged hole in their place. The knucklebones stood out white amidst the blackened and bloody flesh, and a greenish pus oozed from the wound.
Johanna swore under her breath. “When did this happen?”
“Three days ago. The others are wounded far worse than I. They were a much higher priority.”
“That was very gallant of you, Theo, but if we don’t get this cleaned up quickly, you’re going to lose this hand.”
Theo blanched and swallowed hard. “I understand,” he said.
Johanna grabbed a basin and went to fill it with saline. She washed and rinsed his wound repeatedly, distracting him with talk of home. “Tell me about your house.” She listened as he painted a picture with his words, of a sprawling manor on a hundred acres of woods and cultivated fields, pastures, and streams.
“It sounds like a wonderful place. I can picture you and Ellie there.”
Theo sucked in a breath, sweat beading on his forehead. “Could you stop for a moment, Sister?”
“I know it’s painful, Theo,” Johanna said, rubbing his arm. “I’m nearly done, and then I’ll bandage you up until the surgeon can see you. Tell me where you would be if you were home right now.”
Theo closed his eyes. “I’d be at the stables, likely as not. Horses are my great love, and William, our stable master, was like a second father to me growing up. With the horses is where I find my peace.” As Johanna began bandaging his hand, Theo chuckled. “After a long ride on Samson, I’d often torment Cook by sneaking into the kitchen and stealing sweets. She’d fuss, but I think she made extra just for me.” His voice had taken on a melancholy timbre, and Johanna glanced up to find tears in the young man’s eyes.
“I took it for granted before all this,” he said, looking around the ward. “I hope someday to see my home again, but if I don’t, at least I know Ellie is safe now.”
Johanna, fighting her own tears, clasped his good hand. “You’ll see her again. God willing, we both will.”
* * *
The surgeon was able to save Theo’s hand, thanks in no small part to Johanna’s intervention. Since he was an officer and could move about freely, Theo took to meeting her for breakfast in the mess after her shift. They became fast friends, and Johanna felt a stronger connection to Ellie with him there.
He was very like his sister—friendly, easygoing, and respectful of everyone, regardless of rank or station. Unlike some officers who conducted themselves with an air of superiority and aloofness, Theo interacted comfortably with his men, and they in turn held him in high esteem.
“Is it true about the Americans, then?” Johanna asked one morning, after a particularly difficult shift.
“Yes, Wilson finally declared war on Germany
after they’d sunk too many ships for him to ignore. About bloody time, I say.”
“How long before they arrive, do you think?”
“They’ll need to muster, train, and mobilize an entire army. Don’t imagine we’ll get much help until late summer. We’ll just need to hold ’em back a bit longer.”
“My God, it seems we barely have an army left. I couldn’t count the number of dead and wounded I’ve seen, and we’re but one hospital of many.” Johanna shook her head. “It’s all been so overwhelming.”
Theo reached out and patted her arm. “There would be a great deal more dead were it not for you and your fellow nurses. I, for one, am deeply grateful for your service.”
Johanna’s heart swelled. Theo was a good man, one she’d fancy marrying if she wasn’t already in love with his sister. Just as quickly as that thought crossed her mind, the insidious voice of doubt crept in. Know your place. You’ll never be one of them.
“Thank you, Theo,” she said, rising from her chair. He stood quickly, ever the gentleman. “I need to rest now. See you tomorrow?”
“I’ll be here.”
She nodded and hurried off to her quarters, where she could hide under her blankets and cry in private. She missed Ellie so much it hurt to breathe.
Chapter Nineteen
“We’ve each got a letter from Theo,” Mother said, her face awash with happiness and relief.
“Oh, Theo, thank goodness.”
Mother began to open her letter, then said, “Oh, you’ve got another one, too.” Ellie forced herself to remain calm, though she wanted to shout for joy when she recognized Johanna’s handwriting on the other envelope. She opened Theo’s first.
Dear Sis,
You’ll never guess where I am. I went and got my hand wounded, and they brought me to your hospital in Boulogne. I was very sorry I couldn’t see you, but I’m thrilled you made it back home. Your nurse friend Johanna took brilliant care of me, and the surgeon fixed me up fine. I’m two fingers short of a full hand now, but that’s war. Johanna is ace—I can see why you became friends. We spend our breakfast time together every morning now, and talk about you often. She’s quite fond of you, Sis, and I do hope we can all meet up when this blasted war is good and done. Maybe when the Americans get here, we can finally send those Huns back where they belong.
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