Soldier On

by Erica Nyden

  “Oh don’t get defensive, Livvy. It’s marvelous! And look how he is with Emily. She adores him.”

  Both women turned to the pair by the window. Emily was tilting her head, chatting away to Peder, whilst he nodded with interest as though he understood everything she said.

  “Mother.” Olivia pinched the back of her mother’s arm and steered her toward the door. “Are you mad? We’re friends.”

  “I’m not trying to ruffle your feathers, dear, but we’re all aware of what’s been happening between the two of you. And no one’s condemning it, least of all me. It’s as though you’ve hit your stride since he’s been here. Running this annex isn’t easy, and yet with a man like Peder here to uplift you, you seem born to it.”

  “It’s because of Peder that I’m doing my job well?”

  “All I’m saying is that it’s healthy for you to have a man in your life again. I don’t think you’ve realized how much you’ve needed it.”

  What she needed was her mother to go back to London. Certainly Peder had uplifted her; he was her friend, after all, as he was William’s.

  “Was your mother getting after you for something or other?” Peder asked when she returned.

  “Oh, no.” She set the jam on the table and fiddled with the napkin on her lap, keen to lay it just right before making eye contact.

  “Then what’s the matter?”

  “Nothing’s the matter.” She looked up. “But tell me, is it true you’re not interested in a prosthetic leg?”

  “That’s true, but why are you bringing it up now? Is that what you two were discussing?”

  “No, nothing like that.” She slopped a dollop of jam on Emily’s biscuit, hoping the new topic would stick.

  “Peeeeder, biscuit?” Emily asked.

  Her tiny, plump fingers gripped too tightly, causing chunks of biscuit to escape between them. Olivia cocked an eyebrow at the jam stain growing on her sleeve.

  “Why thank you, Miss Emily,” Peder said. “I’d love a biscuit.”

  “I read the report sent from Dr. Banister earlier this morning,” Olivia continued. “Why don’t you want the prosthesis?”

  Peder caught the larger remnants as Emily handed over the crumbly treat. When his smile faded, his expression was unlike any Olivia had seen before. He rested his arms on the table, his hands fisted.

  “Because they don’t work well. My uncle has one. They’re painful and cumbersome. I’ve got a wheelchair. I may as well use it. Now would you mind pouring the tea and perhaps changing the subject?”

  Olivia poured the tea. Despite his resistance, this was a matter she could tackle.

  “Fine, then,” she said serenely. “Starting today, expect a more rigorous round of physiotherapy involving your good leg. If you think you’re going to let it grow weak because all you do is sit in that chair hour after hour, then you don’t know your nurse very well.”

  Peder hadn’t seen Olivia for a few hours, but still he waited, expecting she’d take him outside. They’d walked the halls the last two days because it had been raining so hard, but today his view of Charlotte’s Garden looked less wet.

  Weather aside, he feared she might not come at all. This morning during physiotherapy, she’d been aloof and distant. After days of bringing Emily to “help” during his sessions, when he’d indulged the little girl’s high-pitched giggles and curiosity that often got her in trouble, today Olivia had come alone, leaving her daughter and her good humor behind. True, he’d snapped at her during breakfast, but he hadn’t meant to. He’d grown sensitive about his leg—or rather, his lack of one.

  Since his arrival, he’d kept his ailments to himself. She’d think him weak if he complained, and anyway, he’d rather listen to Olivia. Her voice soothed him. It also removed his earlier doubts as to how William of all people could have fallen in love with a woman before he’d even seen what she looked like. What delight he must have felt at seeing her kind eyes, her sparkling smile, and her perfect little shape for the first time. Peder suffered through dozens of tales about William in order to stay near her; she was a constant reminder of his friend’s appeal.

  But William was no longer here.

  Peder had long resented picking up where William had left off—both men shared similar tastes in women: shapely legs, modest breasts, tiny waists—but this would be different. Olivia needed a husband, and Emily needed a father. The child’s soft curls and playful spirit sent his heart spinning like a top, especially when she ran into S Ward shouting “PEEEDERRR! BREFFAST!” with William’s drooling black Labrador at her heels.

  But if this was truly to be his future and not another fantasy, then he had work to do. Any lingering displeasure after the morning’s disagreement must be remedied. Perhaps abandoning his brave façade would bring her back around. She was his nurse, after all.

  “Ready for your walk, Peder?” Olivia asked, briskly entering the room.

  “Not today.” He shifted in his chair, his face contorted in pain.

  She stopped cold. “This doesn’t sound like you. You love our walks, even in the rain. What’s the matter?”

  Replacing his usual smile with a grimace, Peder exposed a truth he’d long kept secret. “My stump. It burns constantly. And regardless of what you think, I don’t plan on relegating myself to a wheelchair for the rest of my life. I’m happy to use crutches.”

  “But why not the prosthetic? You wouldn’t need crutches or a chair—”

  “Because if resting in a chair is this painful, I can’t imagine cramming my stump into an artificial device.” He buried his face in his hands.

  “Peder.” Her breath was sweet and tickled his ear as she bent over him. Traces of lavender delivered instant solace, as did her nearness.

  He hadn’t planned on breaking down, but if it kept her this close …

  Head down, he mumbled more regrets. “I shouldn’t have survived the beach. This war should’ve taken me, too.”

  She stood and wheeled him toward the door. He lifted his head when they entered her library, where a small blaze dispelled the day’s dampness.

  “What’s this nonsense about not surviving? When you came here, you said yourself how glad you were to be alive.” She squeezed his wrist, her warm fingers kneading away his sorrow. The other touched his chin, coaxing his watery eyes to meet hers. “Is the discomfort making you say this? You need to tell me when you’re in pain so we can work through it. That’s why you’re here. This isn’t a holiday, you know.”

  “I don’t need special treatment,” Peder said, though the idea pleased him immensely. “Our time together shouldn’t be marred by my aches and pains. It’s not how I want to live the rest of my life. By suffering through it now, maybe I won’t have to. I can be strong.”

  “Of course you can. No one’s ever doubted that. Only I’m not so sure you’re going about it the right way.”

  She walked to the desk as if driven by an invisible force. “I’ll phone Dr. Banister this afternoon. You require something stronger than what he’s prescribed for pain. I wish you would’ve told me as soon as you felt discomfort, not to mention the itching and burning.” After scratching notes on a clipboard, she bit at the end of her pencil and looked up. “Are you at all opposed to homeopathic remedies for phantom pain?”

  Trusting it wasn’t too early to claim victory, he let the tension drain from his shoulders.

  “I have the utmost faith in whatever you think best,” he said. And he meant it.

  That evening and every night afterward, Olivia spent a good hour at his bedside, issuing massages and dispensing encouragement. Her thumb, as good at burrowing as a badger, sought the knots in Peder’s back and leveled them like a German buzz bomb. Sweet and reassuring, her voice relaxed him, as did her words.

  “Your future awaits you, Peder. The world is close to peace, and you contributed toward that effort. Though your body may at times feel old, you’re still young. So much life awaits you.”

  She tended to his stump, too, whic
h wasn’t nearly as enjoyable, with a rose geranium oil concoction of her grandmother’s. He chose not to scoff at the home remedy, afraid his doubt would propel their tenuous truce back into unsettled waters. Surprisingly, the oil wasn’t at all disagreeable. It helped calm the phantom sensations where his leg used to be.

  Tonight, she rubbed in a circular motion up and down his spine. Peder worked hard to keep the word “arousing” out of his internal accounting of this nightly ritual. Thank God three of the other men in the room were blind and the other four were too immersed in their heated games of poker to notice that he was on the precipice of losing his composure. It took everything he had not to moan at her touch or reach up to pull the pins out of her hair and watch it cascade around her shoulders before he took her in his arms.

  He appraised her delicate brow and curved mouth as she wiped oil off her palms with a towel. Her lips were luscious in the pale light, and he wished he had the nerve to bring her face to his. She pulled a fresh T-shirt over his head, bringing his eyes parallel with the buttons of her uniform. Her breasts were small, round. He pictured encasing one in his hand or his mouth—

  “I don’t think I’ve seen you look so content, Peder,” she said. “I told you the oils would work.”

  “Mm,” he said, wanting to keep her close a little longer. “But I leave next week. You don’t make house calls, do you?”

  “I’ll come by to see you at every opportunity. If beds weren’t so badly needed here, I’d petition for another month, at least. You’ll be in good hands with your mum, though. She’s excited to have you home.” She gathered her bag and flannels and switched off his small lamp. “Good night.”

  “Good night, Olivia.”

  He lay back, mesmerized by the sway of her hips as she left the room.

  Footsteps pounded down the corridor. In her dream they were her own, running not down the corridors of Keldor but of St. Mary Abbot’s Hospital. Every door opened to empty rooms. Her patients had disappeared.

  “Nurse Morgan, wake up.” Cora’s voice hovered inches above her, and someone was shaking her. “Nurse Morgan, you’re needed in S Ward. It’s Lieutenant Werren.”

  She sat up, her heart pumping at a mad rate. The light in her bedroom had been turned on, and Cora stood over her in her dressing gown.

  “I’m sorry to wake you, but the lieutenant is calling you by name, insisting he see you.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  She grabbed her dressing gown and raced down the stairs barefoot.

  “Tell me you’re all right!” Peder shouted as soon as she entered the dimly lit room.

  “Of course I’m all right! What is it you’ve dreamt? Will you tell me?”

  He leant toward her, his hands and arms shaking.

  “I can’t,” he blubbered.

  She took his hands. “Peder, tell me so I can assure you that none of what you’ve dreamt is real. Then tomorrow we’ll have breakfast together like we always do.”

  He snatched the handkerchief from his bedside table and blew his nose heartily.

  “The mine was supposed to be dead,” he finally said. “I’d disarmed it, and the city block was secure. I’d promised you and everyone else there that they’d be safe whilst we awaited its removal. Then as soon as I turned to find the captain, it, it exploded. You and Emily—”

  He threw himself forward into her arms, shaking as all her patients did when sorting fiction from reality. He whispered into her neck. “Please, stay with me awhile.”

  “I’ll stay as long as you like.” Unlike William, Peder wasn’t a born soldier. He wasn’t cut out for war. Despite his brave face, his sensitive side hungered for a tenderness she was happy to provide.

  “I thought I’d killed you both,” he whispered.

  “Shh now.” His arms, though trembling, were sturdy and comfortable around her. It’d been a long time since she’d been held so.

  Once his whimpering subsided and his breathing stabilized, she lowered him onto his pillow, cradling his neck and shoulders as she did when tucking Emily into bed. She would’ve given him a sedative, but his dreamy face didn’t call for it.

  She combed his hair away from his forehead with her fingers. “Will you be all right?”

  “I will. I’m sorry to have got you out of bed.”

  “I’m here for you. I always will be. Good night, Peder.”

  “Good night, Olivia.”

  Chapter 41

  “It won’t be the same here without you, Lieutenant,” Nurse Talbot said, helping Peder into his trousers.

  He nodded in agreement. This was his final day at Keldor, one he no longer dreaded.

  “I know a couple of girls who are going to miss you.” Olivia’s mother was a pretty woman. She winked and smiled.

  “And I them,” he replied, “but not for too long, I hope. The war has to end some time, and when it does, I plan on seeing much more of the Morgan girls.”

  Olivia had accepted his advances last night after that horrifying nightmare. In the meager privacy of S Ward, she’d clutched him tightly, as though she’d wanted them to stay that close forever. And when his lips grazed the skin under her ear, she hadn’t backed away; she hadn’t chided him.

  “Olivia will like that. You’re good for her, Peder.”

  The footsteps of a rambunctious toddler padded into the sitting room, and every soldier within earshot perked up at the arrival of the little madam.

  “GOOMORRING!” Emily shouted.

  Her voice revived the scenes from Peder’s gruesome nightmare. He quickly bridled the tears that threatened to accompany them before responding, “Good morning, Miss Emily,” along with the other patients.

  “Good morning, little dove.” Her grandmother kissed the top of her blond head and helped her to the table.

  “Thank you, Mum,” Olivia said, approaching. “After breakfast, I’ll be in the library sorting Peder and Captain Riley’s paperwork. We’ve three new patients coming tomorrow. Will you check with Cora and make sure B Ward is ready to receive them?”

  “Of course, dear. Enjoy your breakfast.”

  Olivia settled into her seat. “How are you this morning?”

  “Much better, especially after seeing this little gem.” He tickled under Emily’s fleshy arm. She giggled furiously.

  “Now, now, not at the table.” Olivia winked at him over her teacup.

  His heart might burst.

  “I thought we’d go on our walk earlier today,” she said, “well before your parents arrive.”

  Perfect. Soon he’d execute the best part of his plan, and then he’d be the happiest of men.

  He grinned. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “I’m happy to see you smiling, Peder,” Olivia said, pushing him as usual toward the wych elm.

  The sun hadn’t stayed out as long as he’d hoped, but the tree’s canopy would prove ample cover if it rained.

  “You were right. Today is a new day.” He tilted his head back, hoping to catch a glimpse of the smile in her voice. “It’s so difficult believing all is well after waking from such horror.”

  “Realization comes quicker the more nightmares you have. That’s what William used to say.”

  William. Always William.

  But Peder was determined: Olivia would be his, and Emily too. A litter of Werrens would follow: boys and girls, towheads and gingers, inheriting his name and his wife’s winsome features.

  All he needed was to ask.

  Parts of the path were bumpy, but Olivia had a way of keeping his ride smooth. As they neared the tree, Peder turned his head as far as it would go, wishing he could see her better. “What are your plans when the war is over? Will you stay at Keldor, do you think?”

  She laughed. “Of course I’ll stay here. Where else would I go?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I suppose maybe you and Emily could come and live with me at Tredon.”

  The chair stopped.

  Perspiration dotted his temples. He couldn’t e
ven see her properly, but if he didn’t ask now, he never would.

  “Olivia, I wondered if you’d marry me.”

  The chair moved again. In jarring silence, she pushed him toward a nearby garden bench and sat opposite him. Her face, a stunning portrait of pity and dismissal, told him all he didn’t want to know.

  “I realize I’m no match for the man that was William, but I promise you, Olivia, I can care for you and Emily just as well. Please”—he leant toward her, wanting to take her hand but afraid to—“won’t you be my wife?”

  Rejection from women always looked the same: a friendly smile capped with shining eyes. Olivia enhanced the expression by placing a hand over her heart. The other stretched toward him as if to keep his words from going any further.

  “Thank you, Peder. Your proposal is very kind, but I cannot marry you. I’m sorry.”

  A hint of lavender reached his nose, propelling him back to last night’s intimate embrace. “Even after last night?”

  “Last night?”

  “Yes!” He shook the wheels of his chair. “Last night, when you held me like a lover, when you let me kiss you. Trust me, Olivia, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you wanted this too.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “I was comforting you, as I do all my patients.”

  “With kisses?”

  Her voice and color rose. “What kisses?”

  “The ones below your ear, on your neck.”

  His tears had wet her skin before his lips took over, showering it like the softest rain. He could still taste the saltiness.

  “Peder.” Her face, so sweet, so sincere, was sickening him more by the second. “If you had kissed me, I would’ve asked you to stop. We’re friends, and I’d like to remain so.”

  But she wasn’t speaking to him as a friend. She was speaking as though he were a lame fool. How idiotic of him to think that he, a cripple, could capture such a beautiful creature.

  He looked down to where his leg used to be. “Because I’m only part of a man, is that it? You’re concerned I can’t satisfy you?”