by Stacy Henrie
What was Alice thinking, fraternizing with a soldier, especially when she’d been so against such things? Evelyn couldn’t understand what had changed the girl’s mind.
She stopped and shook her head. That wasn’t true. What had persuaded Alice was likely the same thing that had persuaded Evelyn to break the rules—an attentive soldier.
Evelyn swiped her cap across her damp forehead as she resumed her pacing. If she could go back to the day by the sea when she’d met Ralph, would she make the same choice? To leave the group and spend time alone with him? Yes. The answer came without hesitation. Meeting Ralph hadn’t been the problem—it was giving in to their fear of being separated when their leave was over. She couldn’t change that decision now, but she could stop Alice from making a similar mistake.
The door clattered open and Evelyn spun around. “Alice.”
Her roommate yelped, one hand rising to her throat. “You scared me, Evelyn. What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
Alice closed the door. “What do you mean?”
“Why were you out late with Sergeant Dennis?”
“I told you. We walked farther than—”
Evelyn waved away the thin excuse. “That’s what you would tell Sister Marcelle or one of the other nurses. I want to know why you were out late with him.”
“I don’t know why you’re angry. It isn’t like anything improper happened.”
“No? You being out with him this late suggests otherwise.” Evelyn tempered her tone from frustration to cautionary. “I don’t want you to get into trouble, Alice. And you will, if you keep this up.”
Alice shook her head. “Why are you so determined not to believe me? Nothing is going on. He and I are friends; that’s all.”
“There’s where it starts,” Evelyn murmured. She wasn’t even sure Alice heard her, which was probably for the best. She didn’t want to have to do any explaining. “If I were you, I would ask to work in a different ward. You don’t know what you’re getting into.” She started for the back door, but she stopped when Alice spoke again.
“You don’t understand. I like him, Evelyn. And he likes me.” The pleading in Alice’s voice provoked Evelyn’s knowing compassion, but she smothered it under her anger. “I promised Corporal Campbell and myself that I wouldn’t let it go beyond friendship. And I won’t.”
“Corporal Campbell?” Evelyn whirled around. “What does he have to do with this?”
“He’s the one who encouraged me to get to know George better.”
“George?” They were on a first-name basis?
Alice ducked her head. “Sergeant Dennis.”
Evelyn rubbed her tired eyes. Alice’s words made no sense. Why would Joel encourage something between Alice and the sergeant when he knew Evelyn’s history? She would ask him the first chance she got. “I still think you’re better off staying away from him. You can’t be sure of his real intentions—”
“You don’t know him,” Alice threw back. “And who are you to lecture me on something like this? You think I haven’t noticed how you and Corporal Campbell have managed to spend more and more time together?”
The heat that flooded Evelyn’s face had nothing to do with working in the warm hospital this time. “It isn’t like that.”
“Exactly. How about you worry about your private doings and I’ll worry about mine.”
With that, Alice marched toward the nurses’ building, leaving Evelyn shaken. Tears of frustration and regret stung her eyes. She’d only meant to help. She hadn’t meant to incur her friend’s anger or discover that Joel supported the couple’s friendship.
“Nurse Gray?”
Evelyn looked up to see Dr. Dupont standing in the doorway.
“Are you ready?” he asked. “The patient is being brought down now.”
Unable to trust her voice, she nodded. She followed the surgeon inside and down the stairs to the surgery rooms. Her body still felt weighed down by exhaustion, but now her heart felt just as heavy.
* * *
Joel eyed the path through the woods that Louis had sprinted down. It wouldn’t be easy traversing it with his cane, but he welcomed a change of scenery. He was tired of the four walls of the recovery ward or the confines of the back lawn. He needed something else to occupy his time and energy, and keep him from wondering how much longer it would be before he saw Evelyn again.
It had been two days since they’d joined Louis and the other boys in their game of hide-and-go-seek. Two days since he’d touched the smooth skin of her cheek. He hadn’t intended to caress her face, until she’d looked at him with those big, dark eyes full of vulnerability.
Hidden away as they’d been behind the tree, he’d longed to kiss away whatever had caused the furrow on her brow, to taste the sweetness of those slightly parted lips. The arrival of the ambulances, though, had made such a thing impossible. So he’d settled for touching her face instead. That didn’t mean Joel hadn’t given plenty of thought to what might have happened had he seized the moment to kiss her sooner, if he hadn’t hesitated.
Was he ready for what a kiss would mean for both of them?
“Come on, Corporal,” Louis hollered from somewhere up ahead.
Joel planted his cane on a piece of level ground and stepped onto the path. He kept his gaze riveted to the ground as he walked forward. Louis’s progress in the reading primer had gone well, but he and the boy had both grown bored today. When Louis suggested visiting some of his favorite bird-watching spots, Joel had abandoned the reading lesson for the call of the woods.
The air around him felt cool and held the scent of moldering plants. Joel paused to glance at the leafy canopy overhead. He’d spent many happy hours as a kid playing with Tom and Livy in the trees bordering their farm or exploring by himself.
“Are you coming?” Louis appeared up the trail, then bounded ahead with a laugh.
Time stopped and seemed to race backward as Joel stood there, unmoving. Instead of a young French boy calling to him, it was his brother Tom, trying to beat Joel in a footrace to their secret spot. In his mind’s eye, he sensed Livy behind him, her girlish voice full of pouting, “Wait for me, boys!”
He, Tom, and Livy. They’d always been a close trio—fighting, loving, playing, and defending each other. He’d expected it to be that way forever. What would it be like to go home now, with Tom gone and Livy married and living far away? For the first time in his life, Joel felt a measure of real loneliness.
Unshed tears filled his throat and he coughed hard against them. He couldn’t look back, couldn’t stare the loss straight in the face. This war had changed so much about his life, but he had to keep running forward. Or at least shuffling along.
Straightening, he locked the emotions back up and proceeded down the trail again. “I’m coming, Louis.”
* * *
“Love to…Ma…and Pa…and all the young’uns,” the soldier dictated in a whisper, his face contorted with pain.
Evelyn dug her fingernails into the palm of her free hand to keep from weeping onto the sheet of stationary in her lap. Beyond the soldier’s labored breathing, the only other sound in the surgical room was Dr. Dupont penning his notes about the soldier’s emergency surgery into the ledger.
“Anything else you want me to tell them?”
“Sorry…I didn’t…” He sucked in a gulp of air and twisted his head to look at her. His tortured gaze was difficult to meet, yet Evelyn didn’t dare glance away. “Didn’t…make it…hhh—”
His sentence ended in a sigh. Evelyn scrambled up from her chair, her eyes focused on the soldier’s peaceful expression. “Doctor?”
Dr. Dupont jumped up from his chair and hurried over. He checked the young man’s pulse, then shook his head. “He is gone.” His voice cracked on the last word as he pushed the soldier’s eyelids shut. When he spoke again, his tone was firm, in control once more. “Will you please record the time of death, Nurse Gray?”
So
rrow cut through her as Evelyn walked over to the table, sat down, and picked up the surgeon’s discarded pen. She would follow the surgeon’s example and not dissolve into tears. “I’m ready.”
“Time of death,” Dr. Dupont announced in a solemn voice, “is seven thirty-nine p.m. on this, the fourth day of August 1918.”
Evelyn wrote the time and date, then shut the ledger. Dr. Dupont drew the sheet over the soldier’s face. The finality of that act nearly undid her resolve not to cry. Somewhere, only two short weeks ago, someone else had drawn the sheet up over Ralph’s still form. A wave of nausea, which she hadn’t experienced in days, rose into her throat, as bitter as her sadness. She clamped her lips hard against it until the feeling passed.
“Could we have done anything else?” she asked the silent room.
Dr. Dupont approached her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “That is a question that will eat you up inside. It is what I asked when I learned my daughter’s village had been taken by the Germans.” He lowered his hand to his side, his voice weary. “Could I have done anything else to protect her? But the answer then is the same one I will give to you, Nurse Gray. We did our best with what we had.”
She tried to take solace from his words, but she kept imagining the devastated faces of this boy’s family when they learned he’d died. And not on the battlefield but in a hospital, bereft of the needed supplies and medicines that might have saved his life.
“Is there anything else you need, sir?”
The doctor removed his glasses and wiped them with his surgical coat. “No. Go get some sleep. There will be work enough tomorrow.”
With a nod, Evelyn left the room without looking back at the sheet-covered figure on the operating table. Was there anything else she could say to ease his loved ones’ grief? Perhaps she could tell them how their son and brother had died courageously, even after recognizing his life was slowly slipping away. Even when the emergency surgery hadn’t prolonged his journey on earth as they’d all hoped.
Guilt and regret ate at her conscience as she made her way out of the hospital. They had done all they could for the soldier, and yet if there’d been more supplies on hand…She didn’t want to dwell on such unanswerable notions—as the good doctor had admonished—but she felt powerless not to.
The warm evening wrapped itself around her as she stepped outside. Evelyn shivered at the change in temperature from the coolness of the surgery ward. As usual the lawn was occupied with patients and nurses and a few of the sisters, even at this hour. Evelyn searched the scattered group for any sign of Louis, but she didn’t see him. She released a relieved sigh. As much as she missed him, she feared she wouldn’t be able to fake cheerfulness tonight.
She stood for a moment, deliberating between going straight to bed or not. She hadn’t seen much of Alice since their argument two nights ago—her roommate had either been asleep or on duty when Evelyn had stumbled into their room to catch a few hours of sleep in between surgeries.
Eyeing the nearby woods, Evelyn turned and headed for their promising solitude. She didn’t want to make amends with Alice right now or speak with anyone. She saw Joel out of the corner of her eye. He was seated on a lawn chair, with no wheelchair beside him, looking healthy and handsome. He’d clearly made more progress in her absence. In five more days, he’d be leaving for the convalescent home.
The realization tore at her already grief-stricken heart. Alice’s revelation about him from the other night echoed in her mind: He’s the one who encouraged me to get to know George better. A spark of anger leapt inside her.
When Joel lifted his hand in greeting, she marched past without acknowledging him. She kept walking until there were only trees surrounding her. Alone at last, she sank onto the ground, not caring if she got her uniform dirty, and wept over the death of a young man she didn’t even know.
* * *
Joel watched Evelyn disappear into the trees. Clearly she hadn’t seen him wave. Something was bothering her, judging by the distraught expression on her face and the exhausted droop of her shoulders. Should he leave her alone or go after her? He didn’t like the idea of another day passing without seeing her.
“I think I’ll go for a walk,” he said, interrupting the story Sergeant Dennis was telling the captivated group of soldiers seated around them.
No one spared him a glance. Joel stood and proceeded with unrushed steps in the direction Evelyn had gone. He didn’t need to arouse suspicion. Yet the thought of being near her again, and hopefully coaxing a smile from her, propelled him forward at a quicker pace.
His leg had grown much stronger from all his recent exercise. He’d even made it all the way to Louis’s home in the village and back to the hospital yesterday without too much pain afterward. Physically he was nearly ready for his departure to the convalescent home, although that meant a much greater absence from Evelyn.
Joel reached the woods and slipped into their inviting shade. He searched the faint trail and the trees on either side, but he couldn’t see Evelyn. Farther up the path, he spotted her brown head among the greenery. She was sitting on the ground, her nurse’s cap off. Above the rustle of the leaves and the distant call of a bird, he heard the soft sound of crying.
He slowed his steps, suddenly reluctant to interrupt her. Was she grieving over Ralph, or was something else upsetting her? Despite all they’d talked about at length—their families, her nursing, his life before the war, his interest in bird-watching and sprinting, her interest in helping Louis—he still had little idea what made her sad.
Her palpable gloom broke his hesitation. He couldn’t leave her now, not without trying to help. He drew near, his boots and cane drumming the hard-packed dirt. Evelyn glanced over her shoulder at him, then looked away.
“What do you want, Joel?” Her voice exuded sorrow but also a hint of anger.
“I wanted to see if you’re all right.”
She sniffed. “I’ll be fine.”
Silence beat against his ears. Maybe he should have stayed away. “Is something wrong?”
“I said I’ll be fine.” She rose to her feet, cap in hand, and wiped at her tear-stained face. “How’s Louis?”
“He’s doing well. We made it a little further in the reading.” Joel studied the dark brown curl that had fallen over her eye. He loved that wayward curl, although it teased him to test its softness, to brush it gently to the side of Evelyn’s perfect brow. “He took me to his home yesterday.”
Surprise flitted across her face. “Oh? How are things there?”
Joel thought of the small cottage and the nearly empty cupboards he’d glimpsed when Louis’s mother had rushed about to make him a cup of coffee. “He and his mother do their best. She told me, with much translating from Louis, that he talks quite a bit about you. She’s grateful for the work you’ve given him at the hospital and the food it’s provided.”
Evelyn folded her arms as if suddenly cold. He wanted to put his arm around her, but her rigid posture warned him to give her space. “Thank you for doing that. I wish I could do more.”
“I’ve thought the same. Maybe there are other small tasks he could do around the hospital to keep earning the extra bread and things.” Joel risked another step closer. “In the meantime, is there something I can do to help you?”
Instead of softening, her expression hardened. “You mean like what you’ve done for Alice and Sergeant Dennis?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Alice told me you encouraged a relationship between her and the sergeant. Is that true?”
Was this the source of her anger? Joel straightened to his full height, though his leg was beginning to complain at standing still. He had nothing to hide or be ashamed of. “I think they’re good for each other.”
Evelyn frowned. “Even if they can’t be together until after the war?”
“They’re content to wait.”
“Unlike me and Ralph, right?”
Joel looked back the way he’d
come. Following her had definitely been a bad idea. He’d hoped to comfort her, not elicit an argument. “That isn’t what I said or meant, Evelyn. Alice—Nurse Thornton—has reassured me that she and Sergeant Dennis are only friends. I don’t believe there’s anything wrong with that friendship, so long as they stick to the rules, just as we’re doing.”
Her shoulders relaxed a little, but she didn’t unfold her arms. “Maybe you’re right. But I worry for her. I don’t want her to make the same…” Her voice broke on a sob and she covered her mouth until she regained composure. “I—I watched one of our patients die tonight.” When she lifted her chin, her gaze was full of anguish.
“I’m so sorry, Evelyn.”
“Dr. Dupont and the rest of us did what we could, but the emergency surgery didn’t help. He died while dictating a letter to me, for his family.”
Unable to resist comforting her any longer, Joel narrowed the space between them. He leaned his cane against a nearby tree and opened his good arm to her. She released a strangled cry and buried herself against his shoulder. He tucked his arm around her waist.
“I feel so responsible.” She pressed her cheek to his shirt, her tears dampening the material. Could she hear the rapid beating of his heart? How long had he wanted to hold her close like this—minutes, days? “If we’d only had more supplies, more medicine, maybe he would have lived.”
“Maybe, but you can’t know that.”
“The doctor says we can’t dwell on what might have been, but I can’t help it. I don’t know how to make the guilt go away.”
Joel tightened his grip around her, knowing all too well what she meant. He didn’t know how to assuage his own remorse either, especially when he was holding his best friend’s girl close enough to smell the faint scent of roses in her hair and feel those soft curls graze his chin.
“Did he suffer?” Her words were soft but full of pain.
“Who?”
Evelyn tipped her head back to look him in the eye. “Ralph. I want to know.” She licked her lips. “I have to know.”
He shut his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers, her grief mingling with his own. Her complete trust in him to answer this most painful of all questions sent hope sweeping through his carefully guarded heart, laying open the wounds inside. If she could trust him, then he ought to trust her enough to reply honestly.