A Sentimental Journey Romance Collection

by Dianna Crawford

  Chapter 3

  Ian escorted her to a small round table. Elisabeth couldn’t decide whether she felt relieved or disappointed when she noticed another Canadian officer obviously waiting for them. He wore a clerical collar, indicating his status as a chaplain. She felt even more intrigued by her companion—an outgoing, confident pilot who shared a close friendship with a chaplain.

  Apparently, the same standards of informality existed in the Canadian officers’ mess as in the American, as the men did not exchange salutes. The chaplain stood as they approached, and the pilot made introductions. “Miss Baker, I’d like to introduce my friend, Don Landry. Don, this is Miss Elisabeth Baker, with the U.S. Army Nursing Corps.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Miss Baker,” the dark-haired chaplain replied, extending his hand to shake hers. “I hope you don’t mind that we don’t use rank here in the mess. It’s a neutral environment, so we don’t have to keep track of protocol.” Standing, the top of his head barely reached the pilot’s shoulder. Dark eyes and a swarthy cast to his skin indicated native heritage. His gaze held a sturdy peace that intrigued Elisabeth.

  She felt immediately at ease with his soft-spoken manner. “It’s the same in our mess, Chaplain. It’s nice to have a place to get to know one another as people, rather than just as officers.”

  “Then in that case, I’d like you to feel free to call me Don. Chaplain sounds just as formal as Captain.”

  “Don it is, then.” She wondered if she should invite him to use her first name as well, but the moment was interrupted by the arrival of their server with steaming plates of food. The server departed, and Elisabeth felt no surprise when both men bowed their heads. She joined them. Don offered a quick and quiet blessing over their food, concluding with, “And we ask for a speedy ending to this conflict in which we feel compelled to take part and for Your peace and comfort to sustain those who have already lost loved ones because of it.” She added a heartfelt amen to his.

  The three of them enjoyed easy conversation over the thick slabs of meat loaf which turned out to be more flavorful than she expected. The canned green beans were just as mushy as those served in the American mess, confirming her opinion that canned vegetables simply couldn’t be made appealing. A well-roasted potato rounded out the meal.

  Elisabeth had never felt so comfortable around new acquaintances. Before the plates had been half emptied, she discovered she could easily address each of the men by first name, and she invited them to use hers. Don’s use of her name felt comforting, while every time Ian said it, a strange tingle ran down her spine. By the time dessert arrived—squares of chocolate cake accompanied by scoops of ice cream—she found herself able to voice the question that refused to leave her alone.

  “Don, how do you reconcile the concept of God’s love with this awful war?” She hoped she hadn’t offended Ian. A quick glance at his face showed his empathy for her quandary.

  The chaplain, or padre, as she’d heard others in the mess address him, didn’t answer immediately. He studied her face for a moment, then dropped his gaze downward as if looking deep inside himself for the right words. “To be honest, Elisabeth, I don’t think there is an answer to that question. If I could explain everything about God, He wouldn’t be any bigger than my concept of Him. As participants in this war, we simply have to hang on to faith.”

  The initial question had fallen from her lips as a theoretical discussion. Now she wished she’d kept her mouth shut. The food she’d just eaten turned to an indigestible lump in her middle. As much as she wanted now to change the subject, she somehow couldn’t hold back the disgraceful admission. “Sometimes I wonder if I have any faith left.”

  “Do you still love Him?” Don’s tone held nothing but kindness.

  Again, she glanced at Ian to see what his reaction might be to this conversation that had suddenly turned very personal. The encouragement in his eyes made her feel as though anything she said next would be accepted and understood.

  She had no doubt what her answer would be. “Yes, I do. I don’t know how I’d get along without knowing Him.”

  “Do you believe that He loves you?”

  “Oh, yes.” Mama Glorie and Papa Johan not only had taught her of God’s love but had lived it before her so convincingly that she was as certain of His love as of theirs. “But that’s where I stumble. If He loves all of mankind as I know He loves me, then how can He permit the killing and suffering?”

  Again Don fell silent for a time. When he looked back at her, there was deep compassion in his eyes. “I could talk to you about how God lets each of us make our own choices and suffer the consequences, but I don’t think it would answer your questions. I suspect you already understand the concept of free will. Sometimes we can only cling to what we do know of Him and leave what we don’t know in His hands.”

  “Leaving it is the hard part,” Ian put in. “It’s not easy for me to let go of something I can’t understand or resolve.”

  “Of course it’s not,” Don offered with a teasing smile. “We all like to feel we understand and are in control of our circumstances, but I think you pilots have it worse than the rest of us.”

  Ian accepted the good-natured jab with a chuckle. “No comment.”

  The conversation drifted into easier topics. Elisabeth enjoyed watching the interplay between her two companions. Their rapport spoke of more than acquaintance by circumstance. “How did you two meet?” she finally asked.

  They looked at each other and started laughing simultaneously. “We happened to be on a military flight together,” Don explained. “We were seated across the aisle from each other, and Ian was as nervous a passenger as any I’ve ever seen. I finally asked him if his pilot’s wings were fake.”

  She could hardly envision the scenario they described. “You’re honestly not pulling my leg?”

  “Padres don’t lie,” Don informed her solemnly.

  “Though they might exaggerate,” Ian added. “I wasn’t as bad as he describes.”

  Don merely raised his eyebrows in unspoken question.

  Ian lifted his chin and asserted, “I wasn’t nervous. I simply wasn’t used to not being in the cockpit.”

  Don turned to Elisabeth. “What were we saying about being in control?”

  “Don’t you have to be somewhere in ten minutes?” Ian asked, but with a smile that assured Elisabeth he could poke fun at himself.

  Don grinned back. “Honesty hurts, doesn’t it, pal? But sadly, you’re right. I promised to meet someone at 2030 hours. It was good to meet you, Elisabeth, and I hope you’ll be our guest here again soon.”

  Somehow Elisabeth didn’t feel awkward being alone with Ian. In fact, it felt very right. “I enjoyed meeting your friend.”

  “Don is one of the best,” Ian replied, his words underlined by the deep feeling in his eyes. “He helps keep me from getting that overconfidence pilots are famous for.”

  Elisabeth smiled, thinking of some of the pilots she’d encountered. One in particular had pestered her with invitations for weeks, unable to believe she honestly didn’t want to socialize with him. The memory brought to mind an audacious question. “What would you have done if I hadn’t been waiting outside for you?”

  His eyes twinkled. “I wondered myself. I thought I might stand outside and serenade you until you’d be forced to come out just to make me shut up.”

  “Good plan,” she acknowledged with a mockingly solemn nod. “One small problem—my room is on the opposite side of the barracks from the front door. I likely would not have heard you.”

  “Hmmm.” He appeared to be thinking deeply. “I suppose I could have stormed the barracks, then.”

  “Even bigger problem.” Elisabeth felt a full-fledged laugh building in her throat. “Captain Thompson would have skinned you alive.”

  “She’s not in awe of pilots?”

  “Captain Thompson isn’t in awe of anybody but God, as nearly as I can tell.” The laughter in Ian’s eyes enticed a story from he
r. “She’s the nursing superintendent at the base hospital. She was a nurse in the Great War and is as tough as an old sailor. Just a couple of weeks ago, we had a two-star general come for a base inspection. He’s also a veteran from the last war, and everybody is scared of him. He’s been known to strip his officers’ rank for saluting improperly. He had airsickness on the way here. From what I heard, he just about passed out leaving the plane. He absolutely refused to come to the hospital for examination, so Captain Thompson went to see him. I didn’t get to witness the encounter, but the captain returned with the general meekly in tow. He was badly dehydrated, and she had him in bed sipping fluids in less time than it took us to realize what she’d done. Apparently, she convinced him that Allied defeat was imminent if he didn’t allow himself to be treated.”

  He grinned. “She runs a tight ship, then?”

  Elisabeth basked in his appreciation as she nodded. “She’s good to work for because we always know what’s expected—nothing less than our best. She’s quite strict about the rules in the barracks, but only because she feels they make us better nurses.”

  “Like what?”

  “One example that really rankles some of the other girls is that she frowns on civilian clothes, even in the barracks. The official rules say we can wear them in the privacy of our rooms and between each others’ rooms, but she prefers we be in uniform all the time.”

  “Does she have uniform pajamas?”

  Ian’s mischievous eyes made Elisabeth feel like laughing again. “No one has seen her out of uniform, so we have no way of knowing. We suspect she does, though.”

  He responded with a story about someone similar he had met, and their conversation flowed effortlessly from there. Elisabeth had never enjoyed such comfortable interaction with anyone outside her family.

  As she lay in bed later that evening, she could still feel the warm companionship she’d sensed at supper, the feeling of absolute safety. Her last thought before sleep was, I could even let him teach me to dance.

  Chapter 4

  As Elisabeth expected, Sandra stood waiting beside the front doors the next morning. “Since we’re going to the same place, I figured we might as well walk together,” she announced in what seemed to be a casual manner.

  Elisabeth knew better. “Besides, if we’re busy at work today, this will be your only chance to find out about my dinner last night.”

  Sandra winked at her. “Absolutely right. So, tell all. Quick, before we get there.”

  “He took me to dinner where we were joined by his friend, who is a chaplain. The three of us talked. He brought me back here. The end.”

  “Oooh. This is good. He’s introducing you to his friends already. Way to go, Elisabeth.”

  For the first time since meeting her, Elisabeth found Sandra’s enthusiasm bothersome. She didn’t want to think about last night in the context of a date. It had been a pleasant evening with friends. Nothing more.

  The rest of the day and the two that followed were too busy for contemplative thoughts. No sooner did one patient become healthy enough to be discharged than two more took his place. She felt like she started each shift on the run and didn’t stop until she reached her room nine hours later. Sandra seemed to sense she shouldn’t push discussions about Ian, enabling Elisabeth to stay silent on the subject. Yet in the privacy of her room before sleep overtook her each night, her thoughts were anything but silent. She had enjoyed the evening with Ian and Don more than she thought possible. She thought a lot about Don’s comments about faith, but it was Ian’s smile that drifted through her dreams.

  Monday was her last day on morning shift, which gave her twenty-four hours before she had to report for duty at 1500 hours on Tuesday. She luxuriated in the extra sleep. After waking, she stayed in her room in her bathrobe and crocheted slippers. Cynthia had returned from her overseas mission the night before, but she always took care to give Elisabeth solitude on her mornings off. Elisabeth revelled in the privacy. She pulled a chair close to her bed so she could prop her feet on the edge. Using a book as a lap desk, she wrote to her parents about meeting both Ian and Don. She carefully screened out any references to her feelings about the war in general, limiting herself to closing with a quote from Don’s prayer.

  I pray, as I’m sure you do, for a speedy end to this conflict in which we feel compelled to take part, and for God’s peace and comfort to sustain those who have already lost loved ones because of it.

  With all my love,

  Elisabeth

  With an hour yet before lunch, she decided to take a walk. She rebraided her hair and wrapped the braid around her head, securing the end with pins. She pulled on the navy wool sweater issued for Arctic wear, as well as pile-lined trousers, Arctic boots, and her parka. Snugging a wool knit toque over her head, she then pulled the fur-trimmed hood of her parka into place.

  The day was stunningly beautiful. Bright sunshine didn’t occur often here at Goose Bay, but today the clouds had parted. Sunlight glinted off ice particles in the snow, creating a brightness that demanded sunglasses. She set off away from the hospital; she saw that view often enough. Today her feet led her toward the airfield before she realized the direction they had chosen. Even after she became aware, she couldn’t muster the resolve to turn around. She wouldn’t be looking for Ian, she reasoned, especially since she stood no realistic chance of meeting up with him. She was simply taking a walk.

  She reached the edge of the airfield, which vibrated with activity. On the distant runways, she saw planes landing and taking off. Numerous vehicles maneuvered around the various buildings and parked aircraft, and even more people hustled here and there. While at first glance the scene seemed to be one of confusion, it took only moments for her to feel the sense of purpose throbbing in the air. As she watched, an awareness began to grow in her. For the eight months that she’d been here, her focus had been limited to the sick and the injured. Her profession demanded that focus.

  But here on the edge of the heart of Goose Bay, she could acknowledge her world as just a small part of the overall work accomplished at this location. The bombers and fighters using the runways so continuously were desperately needed in skies far distant from where she stood. It required an immense amount of manpower to accomplish that objective. Her role was to help the personnel involved when their bodies succumbed to illness or injury. Turning back toward the base with a lighter heart, she sensed a faint understanding of a brand-new perspective. Rather than seeing her patients as victims of wretched circumstance, perhaps she’d now be able to view them as important elements in an effort much bigger than any one person or country. Her work wasn’t so much rescue from misfortune as it was enabling her patients to take their part in the bigger purpose.

  Those thoughts carried her through four more busy days. Though she worked with Sandra on Wednesday and Thursday, they had little time for mundane conversation. They usually ate dinner together in the dining room and enjoyed games with the other nurses in the evening, but there was no opportunity for the exchange of confidences. Elisabeth felt relieved. She’d seen or heard nothing from Ian all week. She told herself she didn’t mind, that there was nothing between them other than casual acquaintanceship. Still, when Friday came, she felt a twinge of regret that she wouldn’t be off duty until 2300 hours. Not that she would seriously consider going to the evening social, even if work were not a factor. She refused to start pining for someone she’d met only twice.

  Still, she couldn’t deny that she missed him. She kept reminding herself that it wasn’t likely she’d ever see him again, stationed at different bases as they were. Saturday brought another shift change, this time to night shift. Though she felt exhausted by the time she got off work Sunday morning at 0800 hours, she set her alarm to wake her in time for the service at the chapel at 1100 hours. It wouldn’t be easy to stay awake, but she needed the spiritual sustenance.

  She slipped into a back pew a few minutes late. The congregation had already begun singing the openin
g hymn, “Great Is Thy Faithfulness.” It was a favorite of Papa Johan’s and brought tears to her eyes. She felt in her soul that this was part of what Don had talked about at dinner the week before—God’s faithfulness in spite of inexplicable circumstances. The chaplain’s message came from the text in Joshua 1:6, “Be strong and of a good courage.” After the service, she remained in her seat for awhile, mulling over what she’d heard.

  “Good afternoon, Lieutenant.”

  The familiar voice both startled and delighted her. “Captain MacDonald! I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t.” The smile that had danced through many of her dreams lit his face. “I just thought I’d pop over here this morning to see if I might catch up with you.”

  Elisabeth’s weariness fell away. “I got off night shift at 0800, so I might not be the best companion.”

  A throat-clearing to her left attracted her attention. Somehow Sandra had slipped up beside her without Elisabeth knowing it. “Captain MacDonald, this is my friend, Lt. Sandra Carter. Sandra, this is Capt. Ian MacDonald, pilot with the Royal Canadian Air Force.”

  The two shook hands, and Sandra offered, “Would you join us for lunch, Captain?”

  Elisabeth looked at her in shock and dismay. While they were permitted to invite guests for meals in the nurses’ dining room, she didn’t feel ready to bring Ian as “her” guest. She knew some of the nurses would jump to conclusions, and she would become the focus of attention.

  As if understanding Elisabeth’s thoughts, Sandra added, “You can be my guest, and no one will know you’re really here to see Elisabeth.”

  The comment made Elisabeth’s face flame, even while she was grateful for the intervention.

  “I won’t be keeping you up when you should be sleeping, will I?” Ian inquired of Elisabeth, genuine concern in his eyes.