by Amanda Harte
Art shook his head. “I don’t believe that.”
“I do.” That was the problem.
“Suture.”
Carolyn handed it to the doctor, trying not to remember the times she had worked with Dwight. Then there had been little need for spoken commands. She had known what he would require and had taken pride in being able to help him. She was helping here. There was no denying that, just as there was no denying that it wasn’t the same.
Nothing was the same. The fighting had resumed, and though the battle itself was miles away near Ypres, the less badly wounded men were brought here because the closest field hospitals were overflowing with patients. Carolyn tried not to cringe at the thought of how many men must be involved in this new offensive if they were sending wounded so far from the battle lines. The brief hope they had all cherished that the war might be ending when General Ludendorff had withdrawn in early April had been dashed by the realization that the enemy was intensifying its efforts. It was obvious they wanted to defeat the French and English now, before America could send in enough troops to turn the tide of war.
“Forceps.”
Mechanically, Carolyn assisted the doctor. She wouldn’t think about anything other than the tasks at hand. She wouldn’t think of Dwight, and she most certainly wouldn’t think of the future that stretched so bleakly before her.
By the time her shift was over, Carolyn’s feet and back ached, and the pain that radiated through her cheeks told her she had been clenching her teeth. Would this war ever end? There were times when she doubted it would,
“Carolyn.”
Carolyn looked up, surprised to see Margaret standing near the operating tent, a large umbrella opened over her. Why was she here? Though Helen had occasionally waited for Carolyn when she had wanted to persuade Carolyn to go to town or if she had needed a sympathetic ear, Margaret had never done that. Quickly, Carolyn ducked under the umbrella and stared at her tent mate, trying to guess why she was here.
“What’s wrong?” Carolyn demanded when she saw the lines of sorrow etched on Margaret’s face. A shiver ran down Carolyn’s spine, and she said a silent prayer that she was misreading her friend’s expression. Maybe the reason Margaret had waited for Carolyn wasn’t personal. Maybe nothing was wrong. Maybe Margaret wanted to ask Carolyn for a favor.
Margaret shook her head, refusing to answer as she led the way into the mess tent. “Sit down,” she said, and her voice cracked with emotion. Carolyn’s dread grew. She had been deluding herself. Something was terribly wrong, and that something was directly related to Carolyn. That was the only reason for Margaret’s behavior.
“What is it?” Carolyn demanded. “Tell me.”
Margaret slid an arm around Carolyn’s shoulders. If she hadn’t already been worried, the gesture would have frightened Carolyn, for Margaret was not a woman given to physical contact. “It’s your brother,” Margaret said gently.
Theo? Carolyn felt the world begin to darken. “What about Theo?” Somehow she managed to force the words through lips that felt frozen with fear.
Margaret squeezed her shoulder. “Theo’s battalion was attacked.” Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears as she looked at Carolyn. “There’s no easy way to say this, Carolyn. Everyone is presumed dead.”
Everyone dead. Theo dead. The words whirled inside Carolyn’s head like fallen leaves before a storm. She heard them repeat and repeat, but they made no sense. They were words, nothing more. They had no connection to her. They couldn’t. This was a nightmare. Any minute now she would awaken back home in Canela.
“No!” Carolyn closed her eyes and shook her head violently. “I won’t believe it! There’s some mistake.” But even as she spoke, Carolyn knew there was no mistake. This was not a nightmare. No matter how she wanted to believe that she was dreaming, she was not. This was real.
Margaret began to stroke Carolyn’s back, trying to comfort her the way a parent would a small child. “I wish there were something I could say to make this easier.”
But there was nothing. Carolyn struggled to her feet, filled with pain and anguish and the knowledge that nothing would ever be the same again. “He knew this was coming,” she said as tears began to roll down her cheeks. “He told me he had dreamed of endless darkness. This is what he meant. Oh, Theo!” Carolyn wrapped her arms around her waist as sobs wracked her frame. “Theo! Oh, Theo!” she repeated.
The rain poured on the roof; in the distance artillery boomed; but neither reverberated in her mind the way Margaret’s words did. Everyone dead. Carolyn closed her eyes, trying to block out the image of her brother lying still on some blood-stained battlefield. In its place, she pictured Theo and Emily running through their yard in Canela, playing tag. The image changed like the design in a kaleidoscope, and she saw him teaching Emily to hit a baseball, while Carolyn and Martha sat on the sidelines, cheering. Another shift of the pattern and there was Emily, bent over the engine of a Model T with Theo standing next to her, teaching her the mysteries of Henry Ford’s creation.
Carolyn forced her eyes open and stared out the window. It was another rainy day in France, no different from a hundred others. But for Carolyn and all the others who had lost loved ones, today was unlike any other day. She clenched her fists as the memories washed over her. It was impossible to remember a time when Theo had not been part of her life. Now that time was over. He would never again run or laugh. He would never again play ball or fix an automobile. He would never again do anything.
“How can I help?”
Carolyn dashed the tears from her eyes. “You can’t,” she said. There was nothing anyone could do or say. “I need to be alone.”
And so, although it was pouring rain, Carolyn buttoned her coat and went outside. Her feet moved mechanically, her eyes barely registering her surroundings as she walked down the narrow tree-lined road that led away from the battle zone. In another month, the poplars would be covered with leaves; today they looked as dead as … No! she cried. Her brother wasn’t dead. It couldn’t be true. But it was. The emptiness in her heart told her that.
Carolyn walked and walked, ignoring the pain in her calves. That was nothing compared to the pain inside her heart. She would welcome physical pain if it meant that this horrible emptiness deep inside her would end.
Mud, thick and viscous, squished beneath her boots, and she started to slip. How ironic, Carolyn thought as she stretched out her arms to regain her balance. Her world, which a year ago had seemed so stable, was gone. The sunshine and happiness had been replaced by rain and a sorrow too deep for words. Nothing was the same. Nothing would ever be the same again.
Carolyn took another careful step. Somehow it seemed terribly important to keep walking, as if the simple act of putting one foot in front of another would restore order to her life. It wouldn’t, of course. Both Theo and Ed were gone, and nothing would bring them back. Carolyn had believed that by coming to France, she could help keep them safe. How wrong she had been! This horrible, horrible war was taking everyone she loved. First Ed, then Theo. Next Dwight.
As the thought hit her with the force of a blow, Carolyn grasped a tree trunk to keep from falling. It couldn’t happen. Could it? Could Dwight be the next? Though Goudot had been lucky, Carolyn knew that the enemy frequently shelled hospitals. Was Dwight even now in mortal danger? She swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat that was making it so difficult to breathe. She couldn’t lose Dwight. She simply could not.
Carolyn rested her head against the poplar’s slender trunk and tried to force herself to breathe slowly. There had to be something she could do. But what? She had been so wrong and had made so many mistakes. When she had first arrived in Goudot, she had thought that coming to France had been a mistake. She wouldn’t believe that. She had been meant to come here, and in a small way, she had helped the war effort. That wasn’t a mistake. But so much else had been.
Carolyn stared into the distance, remembering the hospital in Goudot. She saw the patients laugh
ing at her clothespin and Dwight’s disapproval that somehow turned into a smile. There was Dwight in the operating theater, his eyes sparkling with pleasure when he and she saved a man’s life. And Dwight on Christmas Day, dancing for the patients and laughing at the picture on a tin of toffees. Dwight. It all came back to Dwight.
Carolyn closed her eyes in pain, then forced them open again. She couldn’t stop the memories on Christmas Day. She had to remember it all, and maybe then she would know what she had to do. Even though remembering meant facing her mistakes, she had to continue.
Carolyn watched raindrops slide down the tree trunk the way tears had slid down her cheeks when she had learned of Ed’s death. She had made a major mistake that day, rejecting Helen’s offer of help and hurting Dwight by rejecting his proposal. Theo was right. Ed wouldn’t have wanted her to throw her life away. He had told her that he wanted her to be happy, but Carolyn hadn’t listened. As a result she wasn’t happy. Even worse, she was making everyone around her unhappy. What a fool she had been! Instead of seeking it, she had run from happiness.
Carolyn stared into the distance, trying to make sense of her jumbled thoughts. Admitting she had made a mistake was the first step, but it wasn’t the last. She needed to undo her mistakes, or she would soon be left with nothing but regrets.
The question was, could she? Could she undo them?
Carolyn shuddered, thinking of the path ahead of her. Dwight had told her she was strong. He was wrong. She hadn’t been strong, and that was one of her mistakes. She had let herself be buffeted by life’s waves when she should have fought back. She should have swum against the tide if she had to, rather than let herself be pulled in the wrong direction, taking others with her.
Carolyn gripped the tree as she faced the biggest mistake she had made. Ed. Agreeing to marry him had not been a mistake. It had been the right thing to do at the time. The mistake was in not telling Ed how she felt about Dwight. Even when he had sensed it from her letters, Carolyn had denied her feelings. She had lied to Ed, and that had been wrong. She had thought she was protecting him. Instead, she had hurt Ed, and in the process, she had hurt herself and Dwight. That was the mistake.
Ed had been strong; he would have understood if Carolyn had told him that she loved him but was in love with Dwight. He would have released her from the engagement. Why hadn’t she realized that? If she had been honest with Ed, she wouldn’t feel so guilty. It was the lies she had told and the fact that she hadn’t trusted Ed to understand that had filled her with remorse and made his death more painful.
Carolyn closed her eyes for a long moment, remembering the years she had known Ed. For the first time in weeks, his image was clear. She saw him laughing at the scrapes they’d gotten into. She heard him singing Christmas carols with her family. She felt his arms around her the day they had become engaged and remembered the sweet taste of his lips on hers.
Though the rain continued to pelt the ground, turning the earth to mud, Carolyn felt as if a cloud had lifted. Why had she been unable to see the truth that was now so clear? Ed was her friend; he was an important part of her past, but he was not part of her future. Denying her own chance at happiness would not bring Ed back. It was not what he would have wanted. It was, quite simply, wrong.
Carolyn took a deep breath and brushed the tears from her face. She could not undo the mistakes she had made with Ed or the hurt she had caused him. But maybe, just maybe, she could right one wrong. Maybe she could undo the mistakes she had made with Dwight.
Carolyn looked at her left hand, then slowly removed her glove. Even in the rain, the diamond sparkled, a reminder of the sparkle she had seen in Ed’s eyes the day he had placed it on her finger. She would never forget that day, just as she would never forget Ed. But both were in the past. With hands that were surprisingly steady, Carolyn slid the ring from her finger and placed it in her pocket. Then she headed back to the hospital and her future.
Chapter Fourteen
Dwight awoke with a start, his heart pounding, his mouth dry with fear. He had been dreaming of her again. Reaching for the carafe that always sat on his nightstand, he poured himself a drink of water, then smiled ruefully as he realized that he was reacting like a physician, trying to reassure an anxious patient with a semblance of reality. He took a sip, then shook his head, not surprised when the fear that clutched his heart did not disappear.
It wasn’t unusual to dream of Carolyn. He did that every night without fail. But this time had been different. The other dreams had been of her here in Goudot, dancing for the patients, shopping for Christmas gifts, joking with the men in the wards. They were always happy dreams that made him awaken wishing the dream would never end. But this was one Dwight hoped would never be repeated, for he had seen Carolyn in a strange place, sobbing as if her heart were breaking. Worst of all, he felt her despair and an almost overwhelming sense of loneliness because there was no one to share her sorrow, to help comfort her.
Dwight rose and began to pace the floor. Thank goodness the other doctors had not yet returned from their poker game. His roommates would surely have protested this nocturnal rambling. It wasn’t difficult to understand why he had dreamed of Carolyn sobbing. The story of what had happened to Theo’s company had reached Goudot yesterday. Being closer to the front, Carolyn would have heard it earlier. Of course she would be devastated.
Dwight clenched his fists, picturing Carolyn’s face as someone—some well-meaning stranger—told her that her brother was dead. Had she begun crying immediately, or was the wound so deep that she had been in shock, unable to react until later when the pain broke through the barriers Nature had erected? Whenever reality had hit, it must have had the force of a speeding train. First her fiancé, now her brother. Poor Carolyn! How much could one woman, even one as strong as Carolyn, endure?
Dwight strode to the other side of the room, turned and marched back. Pacing was supposed to relieve tension. Hadn’t he told patients that, urging them to repetitive motions? He had told women to knit, men to pace. It wasn’t working. His thoughts were still as jumbled as when he’d wakened. He could still taste his fear. He could still picture Carolyn’s grief.
Dwight executed another turn and strode back to the door. For a few minutes, he forced himself to think of nothing other than putting one foot in front of the other. This was what he had counseled patients. Empty your mind. Concentrate on the mechanics of walking. Had his patients found the advice as useless as he did?
Dwight wasn’t sure how long he paced. All he knew was that one time when he approached the door, the image in his mind changed. Instead of Carolyn sobbing over Theo, Dwight pictured her face the last time he had seen her. There had been tears in her eyes then, and he had been the one who had caused them.
What a fool he had been! Dwight stopped in the middle of the floor, his shoulders sagging from the weight of his guilt. His problem wasn’t Carolyn; it was himself and his pride. He had let his pride stand in the way of happiness. He had been hurt by her refusal to marry him. What man wouldn’t be? But he had let his bruised pride overrule his common sense. He had lashed out, so hurt by what Carolyn wouldn’t give him—marriage—that he had rejected what she could offer—friendship. Friendship wasn’t everything Dwight wanted, but it was better than what he had now, which was nothing. Even his pride was gone, and in its wake was nothing but sorrow. Worse, his foolish pride had hurt the woman he loved more than anything on earth.
Dwight raised his head and straightened his shoulders. He knew what he had to do. She might reject him again, refusing even to be his friend. That was a distinct possibility and a painful one. But it was a chance he had to take. He had to try again, even though it meant risking his pride. He loved Carolyn; he needed her, and he believed she needed him.
Dwight thought quickly. Though his instincts told him to leave immediately, he knew that there would be a large number of wounded men arriving this morning. The hospital was already short-handed. If he left, his colleagues would be overworke
d and men might die. Dwight couldn’t let that happen. But tonight after they had treated all the new patients, it would be different. Tonight he could go to Carolyn.
Carolyn hoped her smile didn’t look as artificial as it felt. With each mile that passed, she felt her anxiety grow, and with each mile, it became more difficult to pretend that this was an ordinary journey.
She looked at the men who had been entrusted to her care and smiled again. If it hadn’t been for them, she might have given in to her fears and turned around. Of course, Carolyn reflected with a wry smile, it was difficult to force a train to turn around.
When she had told the matron that she wanted to return to her base hospital, the woman had merely nodded and said that she had expected the request and that she understood how painful it would be to be so close to the front under the circumstances. Since the matron had agreed that she could leave, Carolyn did not correct her assumption that the reason for the request was Theo’s death.
The matron had pulled out a piece of paper and nodded again, telling Carolyn that a hospital train was heading from the front to Goudot that night. If Carolyn wished, she could travel on it. The staff on the train would be grateful for another nurse.
Carolyn was grateful for the opportunity. Treating the wounded men had helped her keep her fears at bay throughout the night. Though several of the doctors had raised eyebrows in what might have been either surprise or censure, Carolyn had joked with the patients. She hadn’t planned to; the quips had simply slipped out along with some of her fictitious grandmother’s sayings. It was, Carolyn told herself, a positive omen. This was the first time since she had left Goudot that she had been able to laugh, and oh, how healing that laughter had been. It had convinced her that she had made the right decision in planning to return to Goudot. Even more important, as they had laughed, the patients had started to relax. Nothing could change the fact that many of them were seriously wounded and that some would not make it home, but for a few minutes, their fear was lessened.