“How did you get the transfer approved? Normally, new assignments aren’t available until after six months.”
“The director owed me a favor, and the new hospital is desperate for help. This place will only be down one until your replacement can be found, whereas Heritage Hall will still be down three even after you start. And by the way, one of the gals who was killed was the lead mechanic, so the transfer comes with a promotion.”
She narrowed her eyes. “First the cook, and now the director. How many favors do you have left to call in?”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “I can’t let you have all my secrets yet.” He leaned the chair back and hoped the look he gave her was one of nonchalance. She had no idea how she affected him. He wanted to make her happy, to hear her silvery laugh, and to create a way for her to continue with her passion of working on cars. He wanted to be a better man, and no one, not even Phoebe, had ignited that desire in him. He’d never needed a woman before, not like this. His relationship with Phoebe had been shallow in comparison. She’d been his fiancée, but theirs had not been a deep, abiding relationship. Injured pride, not hurt, had been the result of her breaking off their engagement.
He would not fail this time. Doris deserved his utmost. Now, if he could only figure out how to be the best man he could.
Chapter Twenty-One
“That’s the last of it.” Doris shoved a heavy box into the back of the jeep then shielded her eyes against the glaring sun. Four o’clock, and the temperature was still in the eighties. The day had been a scorcher. “Did you bring every book you own?”
“No, but close. What about you? Your toolbox weighs a ton.” Hands on his hips, Ron stood next to the driver’s side of the vehicle.
“And I need everything in it.” She smirked. “Do those books mean you haven’t learned everything yet?”
“You are full of yourself this morning, aren’t you?” He looked pleased with his repartee. “I’ll drive for a change. You must get tired of driving.”
She nodded. “I’d much rather work on vehicles than drive them, but that task comes with the territory. I can’t make any promises about heckling you about your skills.”
“I’m counting on your sass. It’s one of the things I love about you.”
Her breath caught. He’d said the word in jest, but was there a kernel of truth in his conversation? She was not ready for any declarations of love. Was he? “I have so many traits from which to choose.” She climbed into the passenger seat and finger-combed her hair. Wearing a skirt and blouse instead of her coveralls felt good. Sometimes she tired of the bulky canvas uniform with its accompanying clunky shoes. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
He grinned. “Last week you weren’t sure you wanted the new assignment; now you’re raring to go.”
“I’m using my woman’s prerogative to change my mind.” She wiggled her eyebrows and cocked her head. “Drive on, MacDuff.”
“You are a pip.” Shaking his head and wearing a wide grin, he slid behind the wheel and started the engine. “Okay, let the adventures begin.” He drove down the tree-lined lane leading to the gate.
Birdsong sounded among the branches. Doris took a deep breath, trying to clear away the uncertainty and nerves of starting a new job. Insecurity nipped at her, and she wiped damp palms on her skirt.
Ron patted her shoulder. “Relax. You’re going to be great. They’ll love you, and no one will be more adept at the work than you. How about if we talk about our favorite things about being in England? You start.”
The heaviness lifted from her chest. He was right. Well, maybe not about her new coworkers loving her, but she was good at her job, and that’s what counted. “Hmmm. Okay. I like that I get to work on cars and trucks.”
“Fair enough, but you need to try harder on the next one. Engine repair is your favorite activity no matter where you are. Now, me. My favorite thing is you being here.”
Doris rolled her eyes, but warmth suffused her. “Too easy. Try again.”
“How about the great food?”
“You must be eating somewhere besides the dining hall.” She scoffed then gestured to the landscape. “How about this: the scenery is beautiful when it’s not being bombed.”
He cocked his head. “An interesting take on the situation.”
Miles passed quickly as they regaled each other with what they enjoyed about being in England and memories of time at home. The sun began to dip, bringing relief from the searing heat. The jeep bumped over the uneven road surface, and she gripped the seat to keep from being hurled into Ron’s lap or out the side.
“How many thousands of dollars will it take to bring this poor country back from destruction?”
“Untold amounts, for sure.”
Distant buzzing sounded, and a chill swept over her. She glanced at Ron who’d stiffened and sat up straight. He met her gaze for a second then scanned the sky. The droning noise got louder, and he slowed the vehicle.
Her muscles trembled as she waited to see what sort of planes appeared overhead. Would their wings display the trio of concentric circles of the RAF emblem or the crooked black cross of the Germans? She held her breath and clenched her hands, fingernails biting into her palms.
Ron braked, and the jeep stopped, any pretense of nonchalance gone. He reached over and cradled her hands in his.
The buzz became a growl then a roar as the fleet approached. The lead aircraft appeared, and the dreaded whistle of falling bombs pierced the air. One by one, the planes dropped their load.
“Get out! We can’t stay in the open.” Ron shoved open his door and jumped out of the jeep.
Heart pounding, Doris tried to follow him, but her door was jammed. “Ron!”
He raced to her side, reached in, and lifted her over the door, arms around her waist. He set her down then grabbed her hand, tugging her toward the tree cover.
Legs pounding, she raced alongside him. Her pocketbook, slung around her neck, slapped her side with every step. Dear God, please keep us safe. She looked overhead at the silhouettes spewing shells from their bellies. Her stomach clenched, her breakfast threatening to reappear. The trite comment about the bombing seemed cavalier and insensitive in the face of reality.
The whistling intensified, and explosions rocked the earth behind them. Doris covered her ears and screamed. She stumbled and fell to one knee. Ron jerked her to her feet, nearly wrenching her arm from the socket. She winced at the pain but continued to run. What was a little pain when their lives hung in the balance?
Tears flood her eyes, and her vision blurred. She swiped away the moisture, her breath ragged.
Finally at the tree line, they dove into the underbrush. Ron crawled forward then pointed to a deep depression in the ground. “There. The hole may be our best bet.” His voice was hoarse, and scratches marred his handsome face. “Can you make it?”
“Yes.” Doris gritted her teeth and scuttled forward, spitting out dirt the forest floor tossed into her face. She rolled into the hole, and Ron followed her, shielding her with his body as he’d done the last time they’d been caught in a raid.
Kaboom!
The jeep exploded in a fireball. The deafening roar battered her ears. Soil and shrapnel rained down from above. Death had never seemed so close.
j
Ron’s heart thundered in his chest. Doris was curled into a tight ball underneath him, her body trembling in violent spasms. She was obviously terrified. He certainly was. No training in the world prepared someone to be subjected to aerial bombing. He whispered assurances into her ear that she might not hear because of the noise, but the action made him feel better, like he was actually doing something to alleviate her fear. Would their lives be snuffed out and his second chance with her obliterated?
The barrage lessened, becoming a muted rumble as the last few planes disappeared over the horizon. Soon all was quiet except for the crackling fire of the jeep that continued to burn, its oily, ac
rid smell drifting toward them on the breeze.
Lifting his head, he scanned the sky then their surroundings. Once again, they were alone and safe for the moment. He hugged Doris to himself. “Are you all right? Did you sustain any injuries?” He released her and helped her sit up then began to run his fingers lightly along her arms, his physician’s training kicking in.
She shuddered and shook her head, eyes wide and brimming with tears. “I-I-I think I’m okay.” She looked past him at the jeep and wrapped her arms around her middle. “That could have been us. We could have been killed. So close. Death is so close.”
He thumbed the moisture off her face. “But it wasn’t us. God kept us safe.” Ron tucked her hair behind her ears then stroked her cheek. He lifted her chin until her gaze met his. “As uncomfortable as it will be, we should camp for the night. I’m not sure the exact distance, but we have at least fifteen miles to go, and I’m not prepared to walk that right now. By staying here, we have the shelter of the trees.”
Relief swept over her face, and he knew he’d made the right decision. The dank earth seeped through the knees of his pants. “Are you okay to stand? I’d rather not spend the night in the hole.”
“Yes.” She gave him a resolute nod. “At least not until we line it with leaves or something to absorb the dampness. I’m a mess.”
“You’re the prettiest mess I’ve ever seen.” He winked and grabbed her hand as she struggled to stand.
Her face reddened. “Probably not, but it’s nice of you to say.” She brushed dirt and debris from her clothes. “I was so happy not to be wearing my coveralls for the journey. They would have been a much better choice.” She eyed the jeep again. The flames were dissipating, but smoke continued to engulf the vehicle. “Our belongings…everything…they’re gone. Oh, Ron…all your books. I’m so sorry you lost your books.”
“They’re just things. I can replace them, but I can’t replace you.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Doris climbed to her feet and approached the charred shell of the jeep. The vehicle had finally finished burning a short time after dark the previous evening. The blackened metal frames of their suitcases twisted and bent like some ghoulish sculpture. God had once again saved Ron and her from death. Did she have what it took to continue living this precarious life she’d chosen?
She glanced at Ron who stood a few yards away, hands stuffed in his pockets. Concern creased his forehead, and she gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. His face smoothed, and he nodded. She walked toward him, running her fingers through her hair in an effort to unsnarl the tangles. Was it a blessing or a curse that she didn’t have a mirror to check her appearance?
“How do you feel?” Ron cocked his head. “That culvert wasn’t exactly the Ritz-Carlton.”
“Well enough. Surprisingly, I didn’t suffer any nightmares, but sleep was a long time coming, and I woke often.”
“Are you ready to set out?”
“And if I’m not?” She smirked and put her hands on her hips. “We could stay and wait for someone to drive by.”
“We could, but who knows when that would happen. This isn’t exactly a thoroughfare.”
“I’m kidding.” She held out her arms. “On the bright side, we should make good time because we’re not burdened with carrying anything.”
“But we should pace ourselves. Too much exertion will dehydrate us, and who knows when we’ll come upon a pure water source. The temperature is already rising.”
“Good point, Doctor. Always thinking ahead.”
He looked pleased with her compliment.
Doris tugged at her blouse then smoothed her filthy skirt. She poked her pointer finger through a tear that had happened sometime during the mayhem. Fortunately, the split in the fabric was near the hem and not anywhere that would expose her undergarments. Although not as impractical as high-heeled pumps, her oxfords were not designed for hiking. Blisters were sure to form.
“Right. Best get to it, then.” She gestured in the direction of their destination. “How about if you set our speed.”
He began to walk, and she set her stride to match his. This was one time she was glad of her height. She wouldn’t be scrambling to keep up with him. They walked in silence, and she was struck by the bird and animal activity in the trees lining the lane. As if the creatures knew the danger was gone, and it was safe to play and sing.
She tried to push the memory of the attack to the back of her mind, but the menacing sound of the engines and piercing scream of the bombs refused to go away. Her heart raced and her palms sweat. A deep sigh escaped. She pressed her lips together and studied the gravelly road under her feet.
Ron squeezed her shoulder. “I’m no psychologist, but you can talk to me about yesterday. I’m still shook up over the bombing. You must be also. Being subjected to air attacks isn’t normal. Our brains and emotions have no point of reference to deal with the incident.”
“You’re so clinical. How do you do that?”
“No, I may sound analytical but I continue to relive the incident. Was there anything I could have done differently? What if I had died? Or worse, you.” He flinched. “And as you can see, I’ve got muscle spasms. When will man stop killing one another?”
“I’d rather talk about anything but the raid. Eventually, I’ll have to deal with the attack, but right now, out in the open, so soon afterward, I want to focus on the positive. We didn’t die, and we’re headed to two new positions we’re going to enjoy. Or how about if we dream about what we’ll be doing after the war. The tide is turning against the Axis, so the conflict can’t last much longer, can it?”
“Probably longer than we realize or would prefer. But yes, I believe Hitler and his cronies will be overthrown.” He shrugged. “I haven’t given a lot of thought to what I’ll do after I muster out. I was drafted almost the moment my residency ended.”
“Do you have somewhere you’d like to live or a hospital you’d like to work?” She kicked at a stone, and it skittered across the broken macadam. Would he select a location far from their home?
“I want to be close to my family, not necessarily in the same place, but near enough to visit regularly. This war has taught me about the brevity of life, and I don’t want to miss any chances to be with my folks and my sister, especially during important events like birthdays and holidays.”
“There are lots of hospitals in Boston.”
“Yes, but the city is too congested for my taste. Dartmouth has affiliations, and with my having graduated from there, perhaps I can get in with one of them.” He frowned. “Although, patching up boys from the front and air-raid victims may not be the skill set they seek.”
“Nonsense, any hospital would be lucky to have you. A traumatic injury is a traumatic injury, and the wherewithal to handle such a wound is a crucial skill to possess.” Where had the self-assured, egotistical man gone? Would she ever get used to the new Ron?
“Kind of you to say, and I’m trying to leave my employment in God’s hands, but I keep yanking it back.”
Doris chuckled. “I have the same problem. One minute handing over my problems, and the next clutching the issue so tight that God has to pry it off my fingers.” Doris chuckled, and the tightness in her chest eased. When she wasn’t overthinking her relationship with Ron, she enjoyed their time together. He was smart and sensitive, nothing like when she’d arrived a few short months ago. Why did she get wrapped around the axle when it came to her feelings about him? She was allowing external circumstances to influence her internal thoughts. Buffeted by concern about what other people thought or situations she couldn’t control. Which Bible verse talked about that? A bunch of them, no doubt.
She peeked at him from her peripheral vision.
He caught her glance and grinned, his face lighting up despite their predicament.
Her face warmed, and she looked at the ground. Imaginary squirrels danced in her stomach. Doris pressed her lips to
gether. Such a schoolgirl reaction. No. Her feelings ran stronger than mere childish infatuation. She could no longer deny that she loved Ron.
But what she would do with that fact remained to be seen.
j
Ron swallowed a smile. Had he ever met a more complex woman? Doris was a fascinating combination of brash confidence in her abilities as a mechanic, insecurity in her beauty as a woman, and dedication to her faith. He’d learned a lot from her since she’d arrived, and she’d given him much food for thought about his own relationship with His heavenly Father. A rather tenuous connection until recently if he were honest with himself. But thanks to Doris, he was on the right track to becoming a man of God.
Miles passed, and the sun rose higher, its humid heat creating a shimmer on the distant horizon. He’d lost track of how far they’d walked. A fair distance if his throbbing feet and burning calves were any indication.
He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his face then blotted his neck. “Would you like to take a break?”
“Not yet.” She pointed to a bend several hundred yards away. “We’ll stop at that curve and rest in the shade.”
“Deal.” He stuffed the damp hankie back into his pocket and squinted down the street. Movement in the meadow on the right caught his attention. Wildlife or domesticated animals? He cupped his hands around his eyes and peered at the distance shapes. Dozens of milling, wandering brown-and-white blobs.
Grabbing Doris’s arm, he pointed toward the herd. “Cows. I think those are cows. And where there are farm animals, there are—”
“Farms. People.” Doris grinned and wrapped her arms around him. “We’re saved.” She blushed and extricated herself. “Well…that might a bit of an overstatement.”
“I don’t think so. The last twenty-four hours have been difficult to say the least. We’ll be able to report in and secure transportation from the hospital. Our trek is almost complete.”
The Mechanic & the MD Page 12