Dancing in the Rain (17 page)

When she returned to the hospital, Carolyn went to the wards. Though she no longer performed any of the aides’ functions, she enjoyed visiting the men. Sometimes she would write letters for them, but most often she would find three who would play a game of Parcheesi with her. For men like Corporal Seymour who were confined to their beds, the game seemed to provide a welcome respite from staring at the ceiling.

“Where’s the doc?” Corporal Seymour asked as Carolyn opened the Parcheesi board and pulled out the markers.

“Yeah,” the man in the next bed chimed in. “We don’t see him with you any more.”

Carolyn kept a smile fixed on her face. There was no point in telling the men that she was deliberately distancing herself from Dwight, that that was the only hope she had of ending those all too disturbing dreams. “Our schedules are different now,” she said as calmly as she could. Thank goodness her voice did not quaver. Carolyn knew her cheeks were flushed, but perhaps the men would not notice. It was annoying that the mere thought of Dwight made her heart flutter and brought a flush to her face.

Corporal Seymour shook his head as if he recognized the lie. “C’mon, Nurse Carolyn. You can’t fool us. I reckon you and the doc had a lovers’ spat.” A lovers’ spat! Carolyn’s face felt so hot that she was certain it was as bright as a strawberry. A lovers’ spat, indeed! Preposterous!

Though Carolyn said nothing, Corporal Seymour adopted a stern expression. “Take my advice. You better kiss and make up.”

Kiss Dwight? That was the last thing Carolyn would do. Once was enough. Once was more than enough. Carolyn glared at the men. She thought they were her friends; instead, they had turned into tormentors, teasing her with images of things that could never be.

When Carolyn remained silent, the second patient chuckled. “’Course,” he said, “if you’re lookin’ for a new fella, I’d be mighty glad to volunteer my services.”

This conversation had gone on too long. Carolyn handed the dice to the corporal, hoping he’d take the hint and start playing. Instead, he turned to his partner, “Shucks, Fred. We ain’t got a chance. Can’t you see she’s still wearing that ring?”

Though she had hoped that the men would tire of the subject, it seemed that they needed to be reminded of the true situation. “I’ve told you that I’m engaged to a soldier. He’s from my hometown, and his name is Ed.”

“Does Ed know how you and the doc moon over each other?”

Carolyn shook her head in denial. “Dr. Hollins and I are friends. That’s all.” Of course it was.

The man named Fred gave her a piercing look. “Didn’t your granny tell you it was wrong to lie? C’mon, Nurse Carolyn. We may be wounded, but we ain’t blind.”

Carolyn stared at the two men, horrified. It had been one thing when they had hummed “The Wedding March.” Though that had bothered her more than it had Dwight, she had still thought it harmless entertainment. But that had been before. Before the dance. Before the kiss. Before the dreams. Now, it appeared, the situation was out of control.

She couldn’t deny that she thought of Dwight far too often. She didn’t moon over him the way Corporal Seymour claimed. Of course she didn’t. But she couldn’t deny that Dwight played a starring role in her dreams and her thoughts. If that was obvious to the men, who else had seen it? The staff? Carolyn shuddered. Then, as an even more frightening thought crossed her mind, she could feel the blood drain from her face. Did Dwight know? Carolyn shuddered again, then straightened her shoulders. She knew what she had to do. No matter how painful it might be, she could not let the situation continue.

“Are you certain, Carolyn?” Miss Pierce leaned across the desk, her expression indicating that she did not approve of Carolyn’s suggestion.

“Yes.” Though it might appear impulsive, Carolyn knew there was no alternative. When she had heard the soldiers talking, she had realized there was only one possible course of action. “I’m worried about my fiancé and my brother,” she said, rationalizing the decision she had made. “I want to be closer to them.”

The head nurse pursed her lips. “Are you sure that’s the only reason?”

Carolyn’s eyes widened. There was something in Miss Pierce’s tone that told Carolyn she knew that being closer to Ed and Theo was an excuse. If Carolyn had had any doubts, Miss Pierce’s reaction would have squashed them. If her feelings were so obvious, Carolyn had no choice. She had to leave. She had to put a physical distance between herself and the reason for those traitorous thoughts.

“Yes,” she lied. “That’s the reason.”

Miss Pierce was silent for a long moment, staring at her steepled fingers. Then she raised her gaze to Carolyn’s and nodded. “If you’re certain that you want to leave, I’ll approve your transfer to a field hospital.” Miss Pierce’s eyes were solemn. “I won’t deny that we’ll miss you here. You’ve done what no other nurse was able to do, which is to satisfy Doctor Hollins. I appreciate that more than you’ll ever know, but I won’t stand in your way if you feel you can serve the men better at the front.”

“I do.” They were only two words, a simple response to Miss Pierce’s question. But as she heard herself pronouncing them, Carolyn’s mind transported her to a far different setting. For a second, she was no longer in the head nurse’s office. Instead Carolyn pictured herself in a church, her hand clasped in Dwight’s as she repeated those words in a very different context. Carolyn clenched her fists in frustration at the direction her thoughts had taken. There was no doubt about it. She had to leave.

“The transfer may take a few weeks,” Miss Pierce told her. “Until it comes through, you can always change your mind.”

“I won’t.”
I can’t!

Chapter Ten

“I
don’t believe you.” Helen looked up from her knitting, her brown eyes widening in surprise as Carolyn told her of her conversation with Miss Pierce. Helen had been ensconced in the rocking chair, her knitting needles clicking rhythmically, when Carolyn returned to their room. Though she still had told no one of her pregnancy and could not knit in the common rooms, lest someone guess her secret, Helen spent most evenings working on a layette.

“It’s true. I asked for a transfer to a field hospital.” Carolyn wrapped her arms around her middle, trying to stop the shivers that were wracking her body. A moment ago, she had felt as if she were burning with fever; now she was chilled. It must be something she had eaten. This odd feeling couldn’t possibly be the result of the decision she had made. There was no doubt she was doing the right—and the only—thing she could to cure the illness that had been plaguing her.

Laying down the tiny baby sweater that she was knitting, Helen stared at Carolyn. “You misunderstood me. I believe that you asked for the transfer. What I don’t believe is your reason.”

“That’s simple.” And it was, though that reason made Carolyn shiver again. “I’m worried about my brother and Ed. I want to be closer to the front in case something …” Her voice caught on the words, and she swallowed deeply before she said, “in case something happens to either of them.”

Though Carolyn hadn’t wanted to tell Helen her fears because Glen was also serving in the trenches, she worried about both Theo and Ed. Theo hadn’t repeated his fears about being in a bad situation, but his last few letters had seemed strained, as if he were concealing something. And Ed. Carolyn bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying. She was afraid of what Ed might do.

I know I’m a hero to you,
he had written,
but I don’t feel like a hero. Carolyn, my dear, I want to do something to make a difference in this terrible war.

When she had received the letter, Carolyn had been horrified.
No!
she had shrieked. She had reached for a piece of paper, intending to write to Ed, imploring him not to do anything foolish. But before she could begin, a convoy of wounded had arrived, and she—like the rest of the staff—had spent the next three days working almost around the clock. By the time she was able to write to Ed, four days had passed.

“I’m worried about Ed and Theo,” she repeated.

“That’s what you say.” Helen’s expression reminded Carolyn of her mother’s when she had caught one of the children in a lie. Like Mama, Helen appeared disappointed and faintly hurt.

“It’s the truth,” Carolyn insisted. Admittedly, it was only part of the truth, but Helen didn’t need to know that. The fact was, she was worried because she had not heard from either Theo or Ed, and the reports from the front indicated that fighting was heavy.

Her roommate shook her head. “It’s bad enough that you’re lying to me. Don’t make it worse by lying to yourself.”

“What do you mean?” Carolyn shuddered again. Was it possible that everyone in the hospital knew of her traitorous thoughts and dreams about Dwight? She shouldn’t have been surprised. Though Helen had never said anything, if Miss Pierce and the patients believed Carolyn was, to use Corporal Seymour’s words, mooning over Dwight, it was likely Helen had also guessed that Carolyn thought of Dwight far too often. That was one of the problems with the hospital. They all spent so much time together that there were few secrets.

Helen picked up her knitting and studied it for a moment before she looked up again. When her gaze met Carolyn’s, her eyes were serious. “It’s obvious to me that you’re in love with Dwight.”

In love! This was worse than being accused of mooning over him. The blood drained from Carolyn’s face, then rushed back again. “That’s not true,” she insisted. “Dwight is a friend.”

Helen raised an eyebrow. When she spoke, her clipped accent was more pronounced than normal, a sign of how deeply she felt. “You can tell me whatever you want, but in your heart, you know the truth.”

“The truth is that I love Ed.” Even to her own ears, Carolyn’s protest sounded weak.

Surprisingly, Helen did not appear to disagree, for she nodded. “I don’t doubt that.”

She probably should have let the subject die, but Carolyn could not, not when Helen had accused her of self-delusion. “If you believe that I love Ed, why are you insisting that I’m in love with Dwight?”

Helen slipped three stitches to a holder. It was only when she had completed the cable that she raised her eyes to meet Carolyn’s gaze. “As you said before, it’s simple. Loving someone and being in love with him are different.”

“What exactly do you mean?” Her sister Martha had spoken of being in love, but she had never made a distinction between love and being in love. Carolyn wanted to hear her friend’s explanation, for if there was ever a woman who was in love, it was Helen. Her face sparkled and her voice took on a special timbre whenever she spoke of Glen. Not even when she was a newlywed had Martha looked like that.

Helen finished the row of stitches, as if she were in no rush to answer Carolyn’s question. “When you love someone,” she said, “you want them to be happy. You’ll do whatever you can to make them happy.”

“You’re right. That’s how I feel about Ed.” Carolyn wanted him to be safe and happy; that was why she had agreed to marry him; that was why she had come to France.

Helen nodded as if she had expected Carolyn’s response. “I would venture to say that what we’ve just described is also the way you feel about Theo.”

Carolyn was silent for a moment, considering Helen’s theory. She wanted to deny it, but she wouldn’t lie. “That’s true,” Carolyn said, not liking the direction the conversation had taken. “But I’m not going to marry Theo.”

Helen reached forward and patted Carolyn’s hand. “If you’re wise, you won’t marry Ed, either.”

That was not what Carolyn wanted to hear. “But I love Ed,” she protested.

“And you’re in love with Dwight.” Helen held up a hand. “Don’t interrupt. I want you to hear what I have to say.” She took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, and Carolyn guessed she was searching for the right words. “Being in love is not the same as loving someone,” Helen said. “I imagine it’s different for everyone, but for me it’s as if Glen is part of me—the way an arm or a leg is, only more so. Without him, I feel as if I’m only half a person. I need him to make me complete.” Helen leaned forward again, her eyes pleading with Carolyn for understanding. “That isn’t to say that I can’t be happy when Glen is not with me. I can, but I always feel as if I’m missing something.” Carolyn watched Helen’s lips curve in the sweetest of smiles as she thought of her husband.

“I don’t feel that way about Dwight,” Carolyn said firmly.

Helen raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you?”

There she was! Dwight’s pulse began to race as he recognized Carolyn’s figure. She was crossing the courtyard and appeared to be heading for the laundry. If he hurried, he could catch her before she had a chance to invent an excuse not to talk to him.

“Carolyn!”

She turned, and he saw that her cheeks were flushed as if she had a fever. Perhaps she was ill. Perhaps that was the reason for her odd behavior. Perhaps it had nothing to do with the kiss they had shared. Though he didn’t want Carolyn to be ill, Dwight couldn’t deny the surge of hope that raced through him at the thought that there might be a logical reason for both Carolyn’s apparent avoidance of him and the story he had heard.

“Hello, Dwight.” He took comfort from the fact that she remembered his first name. Since she had refused to see him outside of the operating theater, he had not heard his name on her lips in days, and he had missed that. That and so much else. The camaraderie, the confidences, the laughter, even the dancing. Especially the dancing, for how could he forget the last time they had danced?

“I thought you were on your rounds.” Her color remained high, and her voice was so devoid of inflection that he began a mental catalog of what might ail her. It wasn’t a fever, for her eyes were not glassy. But something, it was clear, was amiss.

“I was on my rounds,” he admitted, not wanting to think of the patients’ reaction when he bolted from the ward or the fact that he was not properly dressed for a February afternoon. He had been in such a hurry to see Carolyn that he hadn’t bothered to put on a coat. “I need to talk to you.”

The unnatural color drained from her cheeks, and she lowered her gaze, as if she found the muddy courtyard fascinating. That wasn’t like Carolyn, but then nothing that had happened recently had been like the Carolyn he used to know. “Talk about what?” she asked.