by Kris Tualla
“You don’t need to. I want to walk tonight,” he said. “It was a hard two days and I don’t want my muscles to stiffen.”
“Okay.”
He leaned closer. “I’m a mess. Can you stand for me to kiss you?”
Her expression softened. “Always.”
*****
Kyle waited in line for her mail and was glad to see she’d gotten a letter from Erik. She hadn’t heard from him in twelve days and was wondering if there was a problem at the farm like a bad storm or sick cows that prevented him from writing sooner.
She waited until she was alone in her room before she opened it, preparing herself for bad news and already crafting a sympathetic reply in her head.
Dear Kyle,
I had put off writing this letter, hoping there was a way to say this that won’t hurt you, but I don’t think there is. So, I might as well just say it. I’m breaking our engagement.
Kyle stared at the words in disbelief. She read them again to be certain she hadn’t misunderstood. He was breaking off their engagement?
He was breaking off their engagement!
Why?
What happened?
You already know that it’s been very hard for me to understand why you decided to leave Viking and enlist in the WACs, and while I’ve also tried very hard over this past year to forgive you, I just can’t. Your decision hurt me more than you seem to understand.
Kyle’s hands were shaking in rage. Forgive her? For enlisting and serving their country during wartime? What a selfish and small-minded reaction!
“So much for sympathy,” she muttered. “I’ll set him straight. This is ridiculous.”
Kyle flipped the paper over.
And I should tell you this next part myself, before you hear it from your parents or anyone else in Viking who you might get letters from. I have asked Ingrid Smelter to marry me and she said yes.
He’d already replaced her—and with Ingrid Smelter? The stumpy girl who was a year behind her in high school and took extra homemaking classes? The one who went to school dances with her cousin?
That Ingrid?
Kyle wasn’t a vain woman, but she knew she was prettier than Ingrid. And looks aside, Kyle excelled in school and chose to take more difficult classes because they challenged her.
Maybe she couldn’t make a perfect pot roast, but certainly that wasn’t all that Erik cared about.
Ingrid has assured me that she doesn’t have any uppity ideas about a woman’s role in this world. She will be very content to just be my wife and a good and competent mother to our children. I expect to have a happy and peaceful life with her.
Tears of anger and pain blurred Kyle’s vision. Uppity ideas? And the implication that life with her would be neither happy nor peaceful?
“Am I really that unsuited to be a wife?” she asked the empty room.
The wedding will be the first weekend in August. I have to ask you to please not write back to me unless you want to extend your good wishes. Nothing you could say to me at this point could make me change my mind.
I’m sorry everything turned out this way, but it is for the best.
Erik
Kyle leaned against the headboard of her bed, stunned to her core. There were so many things she wanted to shout at Erik about his own personal faults—and if he was in front of her she would.
Her reactions bounced between rage at his judgment of her character and the idea that she would come crawling to him, begging him to take her back, to soul-deep disappointment that he just didn’t love her any more.
Most of all she wondered how the man whom she loved and planned a future with could think so little of her.
What’s wrong with me?
*****
Tor was waiting in the Rec Hall for the next bus to take soldiers into Leadville and he was telling some of the other instructors a story in a mix of mime, English, and Norsk—which Torger was translating between his guffaws—about a sorry recruit’s first day in his current squad.
“He and I were last and I said it was our turn to go down the mountain. So he starts and I see he has his skis straight. He’s not guiding them or anything.”
Tor mimicked the man’s stance. “It looks like he’s going to hit a tree, and I’m thinking of Kossin, and I’m scared he’ll be hurt. So I follow him.”
Tor started to laugh. “This guy is skiing in a straight line until he’s about to hit something and then he falls on purpose.”
Tor acted out his words. “Then he gets up, turns his skis and goes again!”
The instructors were all laughing, encouraging Tor on.
“He does this all the way down, and I can’t believe it!” Tor wiped his eyes. “Then he tries to make a wide turn but falls in a snow drift and lands on his shoulders, head down and skis in the air.”
Whoops of appreciation filled the room.
“I can just see it!” one American instructor said.
“I skied right to him and asked how bad was he hurt. He says he’s not hurt.” Tor spread his hands. “I said you hit that tree. How bad are you hurt? Did you hurt your leg, or what?”
The men grew quiet, waiting for the answer.
“Again he says he’s not hurt, but I said he had to be. Then he looks up at me and says, I’m not hurt! I didn’t hit the tree!”
Confused looks bounced among the men.
“So I said, if you’re not hurt, then what are you doing down there?” Tor laughed so hard he had trouble getting the next words out. “And he—and he said—I’m down here because my skis are up there and I can’t get them down here with me!”
The room exploded with laughter. Tor thought Torger was going to lose bodily control he was laughing so hard.
“That’s the best story I’ve heard in a long time, Hansen!” the American instructor said between burst of hilarity. “You should win some sort of prize.”
The bus pulled up in front of the door and the men, still chuckling, filed out of the Rec Hall and boarded in single file.
Tor was near the end of the line, still chatting with Torger when Kyle strode around the back of the bus and got in line.
It only took one glance for Tor to see that she had been crying. He excused himself and went to talk to her.
When she saw him, she shook her head. “Go ahead. I’ll wait for the next bus.”
”What’s wrong?”
She wouldn’t look at him. “Nothing. Go get on the bus.”
“I’ll wait and go with you.”
She did look at him then. “Tor, get on the bus. Go with your friends. Let me be.”
“Tor!” Torger shouted. “You coming?”
Kyle pushed him. “Go.”
When he still didn’t move she pushed him harder. “Get on the damn bus, Tor!”
“Last call!” Torger was hanging out the bus door. “Yes or no?”
Tor to a last look at Kyle’s murderous expression and answered Torger. “I’m coming!”
He turned around and trotted to the bus and ran up the steps.
I’ll wait for her in town.
Chapter
Twenty Nine
When Kyle saw Tor waiting for her to get off the bus she was angry. Of all the nights when she did want his company, this was definitely not one of them. Tonight she wanted to drink hard liquor and dance with strangers until her fury and pain were numbed enough that she couldn’t feel them anymore.
She stepped off the bus and walked past Tor without looking at him or talking to him.
Of course he followed her. “Will you please tell me what’s wrong?”
“No.”
“Kyle—have I done something to hurt you?”
She halted and faced him. “This has absolutely nothing to do with you! Why would you even think that? UGH! Men!”
She turned around and kept walking.
Tor didn’t follow her that time.
Kyle walked into the Pastime and marched straight up to the bar. “Rum and Coke, easy on the Co
ke.”
The soldier next to her turned and gave her the once over. “Sounds like the lady has some forgetting to do.”
“Yep.”
Kyle pulled a bill from her pocket, but he stopped her.
“I’ll get this one. And the next.” He held up two fingers and the bartender set two rum and Cokes in front of Kyle.”
She thanked the man who wasn’t bad looking.
Good enough for tonight.
She downed the first drink and set the empty glass on the bar. Then she picked up the second one, smiled at her benefactor and said, “Wanna dance?”
*****
Tor watched Kyle from a distance, shocked at her behavior. He’d never seen her act this way, but he’d seen plenty of other women do it. She had all the earmarks of a woman scorned. One who planned to drown her heartbreak in booze and boys.
It had to be Erik.
What had the man done?
All Tor could do for her was stay in the background and make sure she didn’t get hurt before she got back to her barracks later tonight.
Tor noticed after her first two drinks, Kyle slowed down on her third. She was obviously feeling pretty loose at the moment and was dancing with three eager soldiers who took turns holding her a little too close.
A pair of WACs joined the little party, necessitating another round of drinks. Kyle gulped the last of her third and took a hearty sip of her fourth before being swept back onto the dance floor.
After that, Tor stopped counting Kyle’s drinks and watched her coordination instead. It seemed like she should be worse off than she was and he realized that the more the military men and women drank, the weaker their drinks were.
That lined the bars pockets while keeping the soldiers from getting alcohol poisoning.
Tonight Tor thought that was a fine plan.
Kyle seemed to be having a good time, laughing at the men’s jokes and hanging onto their shoulders for balance. But every now and then her expression grew haunted and she ordered another drink.
Tor looked at his watch. It was nearly midnight and Kyle had been drinking pretty steadily for over four hours. Her gaze appeared unfocused and when she let go of any support she swayed like a pine tree in a strong wind.
One of her evening’s companions slipped his arm around her waist and pressed his lips to her ears. Whatever he said made Kyle shake her head.
“I have t’go back,” she said loudly enough for Tor to hear.
The soldier didn’t seem to like that answer. He pulled her close and kissed her hard on the mouth. Tor moved through the crowd to get close to her.
Kyle almost fell backwards with the force of the kiss but caught herself on a table, spilling her drink. “Hey! Don’ ruin ev’rything!”
The man pressed himself against her and ran his hands down her body. “Baby, you got me all wrong.”
Kyle pushed his hands away and held her empty glass in his face. “Y’owe me a drink.”
“I already bought you enough drinks, doll. Time for you to pay me back.” He leaned in for another kiss when Tor’s hand clamped down on his shoulder.
“Stand down.”
He turned and sneered up at Tor. “Get your own girl.”
Tor’s fingers dug into the man’s shoulder. “I said stand down, soldier.”
The man grunted and let go of Kyle.
“You!” Kyle yelped. “What’re you doin’ here?”
“I’m here to take you back to camp.”
She lifted her chin and glared at him. “What’f I don’ wanna go back with you?”
“You don’t have a choice, Lieutenant.”
“See?” her accoster challenged and grabbed her again. “She wants to be with me tonight. And I bought her enough booze to earn it!”
Tor reached out and gripped the man’s collar. “Well I say this is America in nineteen-forty-four and you can’t buy women with drinks. That takes hard cash and a different sort of woman entirely.” He twisted his wrist and tightened the man’s collar against his skin. “So unless you want me to call that MP by the door over here to deal with you, I suggest you stand down!”
Tor’s shouted command had the dual effect he planned. Not only did the soldier’s aggressive attitude slip, but the MP by the door took a step in his direction.
He put up his hands. “Fine, you can have the bitch.”
“Who you callin’—”
Tor released the man’s collar and grabbed Kyle’s arm. “Let’s go.”
*****
Kyle’s mind was fuzzy but she knew a few things. First, that man she’d been dancing with wanted a lot more than a night of fun. Second, Tor was here and he’d saved her again.
Third, she needed another drink.
“No.” Kyle stopped and leaned away from Tor’s grip. “I wan’ another drink,” she growled. “He made me spill mine.”
Tor looked down at her. “Fine.”
He ordered the rum and Coke and paid for it, then pulled her into a corner of the bar to drink it.
“This’s weak,” she grumbled.
“Just drink it.”
She gulped it as fast as she could and held up the glass. “Satisfied?”
Tor took the glass and practically dragged her out the front door. When the cooler outside air hit her and the street began to undulate beneath her she felt ill.
“Wait.” She reached out a hand and planted her feet. “I—I don’ feel good.”
Tor lifted her from behind and bent her over a patch of grass as she vomited.
*****
Kyle sat on a bench in the little yard and cried. In between drunken wails and angry outbursts she told Tor that Erik had broken their engagement.
“For a dumpy little nothing who doesn’t have uppity ideas.”
Tor said nothing, just let her spill her guts verbally, now that the physical spill subsided.
“Why, though?” She looked blearily at him. “What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing.”
“Then tell me this, if you’re so smart…” She pointed a finger in his face. “Why doesn’t anyone love me?”
Tor’s chest tightened. “I do.”
“What?” Kyle blinked slowly.
“I said, I do. I love you.”
She leaned back and squinted at him. “I don’ believe you.”
He shrugged, doubting she would remember this conversation in the morning. “It’s true, Kyle.”
“Well guess what, Cap’ain.” She poked him in the chest to punctuate each word. “I love you, too.”
Tor chalked her words up to multiple rum and Cokes. “That’s nice.”
“It’s more than nice. It’s real nice.”
Tor smiled and consulted his watch again. He wasn’t too keen on pouring Kyle onto the camp bus in her condition, but he didn’t have an overnight pass.
He saw a taxi drive by and waved it down. “Stay here.”
Once he made arrangements for a ride, he collected Kyle and they got into the back seat. She dozed against his shoulder until the taxi stopped at the entrance to Camp Hale. He checked them both in and started the hike to her barracks, holding her close for support.
When they reached her barracks she stopped and shook her head. “I don’t want to go to bed yet.”
“What do you want to do?”
She looked up at him with a hunger that shot straight to his groin. “What we always do.”
Tor measured his words carefully. “Okay. Go wash up first. Then come back down with your blanket.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
As he watched her stumble away, he planned to give her fifteen minutes to return. If she didn’t, he would assume she’d passed out in her bed and he’d go claim his.
She was back in ten.
Her face was clean and her hair was damp and brushed. Kyle was starting to sober up.
“Here.” She handed him several blankets. “I got them from the supply closet.”
Then she took his hand. “Lead on.”
<
br /> *****
The more the alcohol wore off, the clearer Erik’s rejection echoed in her mind. All she wanted now was to lie in Tor’s arms and feel his hands on her body. She desperately needed to feel loved.
Did he say he loved me?
Kyle watched while Tor spread the blankets over a soft pile of pine needles and she unfastened her trousers and the lower buttons on her blouse. When he turned to face her she reached for his belt and unbuckled it while he took her face in his hands and kissed her.
He still tasted like beer.
When the kiss ended, Kyle dropped onto the blankets and rolled onto her back. She held her hands up and Tor lowered himself over her.
His kisses moved to her breast and his attention there sent shivers over her skin. But when he began to move down her frame she stopped him.
“No. Not that.”
He looked up at her. She could see his eyes by the light of the moon. “Why not?”
She sat up and pushed her trousers and her panties to her knees. “I want more.”
Tor watched her as she fought her way out of the stubborn garments and then pressed his hand to the damp spot between her legs. “More…”
Kyle laid back down. “I want everything.”
Tor’s intense expression was clear even in the darkness. “What are you saying, Kyle?”
“I’m saying…” She choked on a sob. “I’m saying I want somebody to love me.”
Tor stretched out on the ground next to her. “No. You’ve had a lot to drink tonight.”
“I know what I want, Tor.” She fumbled for the erection she knew was there as tears rolled across her skin. “Erik said he loved me, but I wasn’t good enough for him.”
She gripped him tightly and he gasped. “I need to know I’m good enough for somebody.”
“Just somebody?” he challenged. “Then why not that man in the bar?”
“You.” Her shoulders shook with her increasing sobs. “I want to be good enough for you.”