Hope Rising (22 page)

Sergeant Dennis glanced up, a sly grin on his face. “Don’t forget I outrank you, Campbell. Maybe you oughta find yourself a new copy.”

Joel laughed as he walked through the open door of their private bathroom. He was pleased to see that Dennis’s enthusiasm for spiritual things hadn’t waned in the week away from Nurse Thornton. If anything, the sergeant had been more vigilant about studying, taking advantage of the times Joel wasn’t reading the Bible himself. His own faith had slowly been returning the last few weeks, but he’d gladly shared the book with his friend.

Removing his shirt, he set out his shaving things. He was becoming more and more adept at shaving with one hand. “Did you find out what day you’re leaving next week?” Joel called over his shoulder.

“Next Saturday. What about you?”

“Friday—just like we’d hoped.” Things were going exactly as he and Evelyn had planned. He smiled at himself in the mirror as he applied the soap lather.

“Wish I’d gotten the same day as you. Then I could’ve stood up as your best man,” Sergeant Dennis said. “I plan on goin’ down there myself with my free hours. Will you tell Alice that?”

“Sure thing.” Joel began sliding the razor across his face.

By this time next week, he’d be married to the woman he loved, and in another couple of months, they would have a baby. Maybe a son—a precocious one like Louis. Joel had to admit he missed the boy, especially since he’d discovered some new birds during his time at the château. Perhaps he’d loan his bird book to Louis and collect it back on his next leave.

Maybe Evelyn would have a girl. A beautiful, dark-eyed girl. Joel wouldn’t mind a daughter.

Of course, boy or girl, the baby might look like Ralph.

Joel frowned in the mirror as he rinsed off his razor. He didn’t want to think about Ralph right now. It only succeeded in dredging up the guilt he’d nearly buried beneath good rest, exercise, and thoughts of Evelyn.

I can’t change the past
, he told himself, staring at his reflection. But he would do everything in his power, once he and Evelyn were married, to care for her and her child. Surely that would erase any lingering remorse and responsibility he felt over Ralph’s death.

His rationale made sense, but Joel couldn’t shake the feeling in his gut that he should have told Evelyn everything before leaving the hospital. He felt like a coward, and he hated that feeling.

He hurried to finish shaving, then put his sweaty shirt back on. “I think I’ll take another run around the grounds,” he announced as he stepped back into the room.

“All right.” Sergeant Dennis didn’t even look up from his reading.

Joel hurried down the stairs and back out the main doors, eager to hear the gravel crunching under his feet as he drove everything from his mind but pushing his body as hard as he could.

E
velyn blinked, trying to remember which tool Dr. Dupont had requested. She couldn’t blame her muddled mind on the morphine anymore.

Dr. Dupont studied her intently from behind his glasses. He’d expressed concern about her returning to work too soon. She needed to focus more and reassure him that she did not need to go back to bed. The two and a half days she’d spent in that small room, minus her attendance at Louis’s mother’s funeral, had nearly killed her. She couldn’t stand the quiet or the isolation. It gave her too much time to think, to ask herself fruitless questions, to wonder how to break the news to Joel about the baby.

Before the doctor could repeat his request, Evelyn recalled what he’d asked for. She handed him the tool and forced her stiff lips to lift into a smile. He cocked an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Thankfully another nurse was present or Dr. Dupont might have pressed Evelyn for answers to how she was feeling. And that would be her downfall.

She crammed her emotions down deep inside and concentrated all her efforts on the surgery at hand. At least it wasn’t life-threatening. She could handle assisting the removal of a soldier’s tonsils.

Once the procedure was over, Evelyn set about washing blood from the surgical tools and scrubbing down the room. Her gaze wandered to the bathroom and the last time she’d been in there. Remembering brought the shadowy echoes of panic she’d felt that day, and suddenly her lungs struggled for breath. While the doctor spoke with the other nurse, Evelyn slipped out the cellar entrance Dr. Dupont had pointed out the other day.

The afternoon sun had been obliterated by thick gray clouds, and the air hung heavy with the promise of a summer rainstorm. Evelyn pressed her back against the stone wall and forced herself to take even breaths until the horrible memories fled.

“Nurse Gray?” Louis called out as he bounded around the corner of the hospital. A basket swung wildly from his hand. “The doctor said I would find you here.”

Evelyn blushed. “Only for a minute. We just finished with a surgery. I should get back, Louis.”

The boy shook his head. “Dr. Dupont said you could come on my…” He scrunched his face. “What did you call it when we ate on the grass?”

“A picnic.”

“Yes, he said you are to come on my picnic.” He hoisted his basket in the air. “Cook made it up, but it smells good.”

Something akin to pleasure warmed Evelyn’s heart at Louis’s clever idea and the doctor’s foresight. She hadn’t fooled Dr. Dupont with her feigned composure after all.

“I think a picnic sounds lovely. Where shall we go?”

Louis twisted his head in one direction, then the other. “How about there?” He pointed to a break in the brush and trees that bordered the lawn. Evelyn nodded and followed her young rescuer to his chosen spot.

They sat down on the grass, and Louis plunked the basket between them. “I am hungry,” he declared, grabbing a loaf of bread for himself. He gobbled a bite as Evelyn fished out some bread and cheese for herself. The memory of the last time they’d shared a meal like this returned full force into her mind. She’d been pregnant—and sick—that day.

Evelyn fought the urge to cry. Would she ever stop weeping or battling tears? “What job did you have today?” she asked after sampling some cheese.

Louis paused in devouring his lunch. “Washing windows.” He made a face. “But I get to stand on a ladder to reach the high parts.”

Evelyn allowed a soft chuckle. The sound was foreign and felt as if it must have come from someone else. She cut a glance at Louis. He appeared to be adjusting well to living at the hospital, though at night when she came to tuck him in, he often confided through his tears how much he missed his mother. Evelyn didn’t have the heart to tell him it would be a long time, years perhaps, before the ache lessened. Was that how it would be for her, without her baby, without Joel?

Louis finished his bread and started in on his cheese, but several moments later, he stopped chewing and cocked his head. “Are you sad, Nurse Gray?”

Evelyn swallowed the morsel in her mouth and did her best to appear less sorrowful. “Why do you ask?”

He broke off a tiny bit of cheese and squeezed it between his fingers. “Dr. Dupont said something sad happened to you last week, but I am not to ask. I promised. He said Cook would give me no sweets for a week if I broke my word.” He lifted his chin and studied Evelyn. “You look like
ma
mère
after Papa was killed. But you are not going to die, too, right? That is not asking, okay?”

Sliding over, Evelyn placed her arm around him. She could relate to his fear of her leaving him. “You haven’t broken your word, Louis.” She pulled him close. “And no, I am not going to die. I am perfectly healthy.”

He visibly relaxed. “I am sorry you are sad.”

“That may be true at other times. But do you know what?”

Louis glanced up. “What?”

“You help me not be sad.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

His face brightened at her words and he scrambled onto his knees. “Guess what Cook made last night?” He didn’t wait for Evelyn to answer. “Fudge.”

Clearly there’d been more in the truck the other week than just supplies. Evelyn peered into the basket. She’d longed for real chocolate for months. Louis removed a napkin from a small plate, revealing four brown squares.

“Real fudge? This is the perfect picnic.”

Louis picked up the plate and held it out to her. Evelyn took a piece of fudge and bit into it. While it didn’t taste exactly like the fudge from home, it was better than any sweet she’d had in ages. “Delicious.”

That was all the prompting Louis needed. He popped two in his mouth before Evelyn had swallowed her first piece. As she reached for her second, a large raindrop splattered on her hand. Another hit her apron. She finished off her fudge and climbed to her feet.

“Come on, Louis.” She grabbed the basket, just as the scattered drops became sheets of rain. She darted for the building and Louis followed. Evelyn ducked down the cellar entrance, which provided some shelter from the downpour. She looked at Louis and couldn’t help a genuine laugh. “We’re soaked.”

Louis grinned and gave his head a good shake, sending water flying in all directions. Removing her drenched cap, Evelyn shook out her hair, too. She would definitely have to change before she returned to her duties. She eyed the still pelting rain, an idea forming, then she smiled at Louis.

“Do you know what you do when it rains at a picnic?”

Louis shrugged.

“You play tag.” She touched Louis’s arm and darted back into the rain, calling over her shoulder, “You’re
it
, Louis. Now you have to chase me.”

He laughed and started after her as she raced through the rain. She sprinted to the driveway, but she slowed her steps when she reached the front lawn so Louis could catch up.

“I got you, Nurse Gray.” He slapped a hand against her back before running off. The joy on his face brought Evelyn a twinge of happiness.

She turned and dashed after him. Back and forth they chased each other across the grass—first one
it
then the other. Evelyn couldn’t remember ever being so wet, but the coolness of the rain, the fresh smell of the damp earth, and the sweetness of laughter in her throat felt exhilarating.

Out of breath, and a little sore, she stopped and lifted her face to the cleansing drops. The water slid down her face and off her chin, but this time, it wasn’t tears. She felt Louis’s hand slip into hers as she stood there. Gratitude for the simple moment melted some of the hard numbness that had encased her heart the last week. A feeling of thankfulness grew and became words in her mind, almost like a prayer.

Thank you for Louis. Thank you for the rain. Thank you for a reason to smile, if only for a few minutes.

Down deep she still felt the hollowness of losing the baby, but this moment in the rain gave her hope that someday she would feel more whole.

“Race you to the surgery wards,” Evelyn said, tipping her head in the direction of the cellar entrance. It was probably time to get back.

Louis let go of her hand and raced away. “I will beat you, Nurse Gray.” His adorable grin reappeared.

Evelyn followed at a slower pace. She’d done enough running. The rain felt colder now that their tag game had ended, but she had to admit she’d enjoyed herself. Ahead of her, Louis disappeared down the cellar steps. Evelyn collected her neglected cap and the picnic basket and pushed through the heavy door.

“You certainly did beat—”

Dr. Dupont stood there, a hand on Louis’s shoulder. “Did you have a nice picnic?” he asked.

Evelyn wrung water from her apron. “We did, though we got caught in the rain.”

“It is all right, Nurse Gray,” Louis said. “I told him about tag.”

She blushed, though the doctor’s gaze reflected only amusement and compassion, not censure. “Yes, well, I need to get back to work, Louis.”

“Actually, Sister Marcelle would like to see you.” Dr. Dupont peered down at Louis. “You, too.”

“Is everything all right?” Evelyn studied the doctor’s face as her stomach twisted painfully with fear. What did Sister Marcelle want? Had someone told her the real reason for Evelyn’s three-day absence from work?

“No need to worry.” The doctor gave her a pointed look that brought Evelyn some relief. He, at least, hadn’t revealed anything. “She said she had news, which concerned the two of you.”

“Should we change?” She glanced at Louis and couldn’t help laughing again. He looked like a drowned kitten, and she was certain she hadn’t fared much better.

Dr. Dupont shook his head. “She asked you to come the moment you returned.”

Evelyn blew out a sigh and held her hand out to Louis. “Let’s go then. Wet and all.”

She led him up the back stairs. With each step, their shoes made squishing noises, which set Louis laughing. Soon Evelyn was giggling, too. When they reached the door to Sister Marcelle’s office, she paused to smooth her damp apron and take a deep breath.

“Can you keep a straight face?” She gave Louis a stern look, but he wouldn’t have it. His lips creased. He clapped his hand over his mouth to hide his smile.

Evelyn fought back another set of giggles as she knocked and waited for the sister to invite them in. Once she did, they stepped into the room and Evelyn shut the door behind them.

Sister Marcelle turned away from the window and smiled. “Ah. Here are two of my favorite people.”

“The doctor said you wished to see us.” Evelyn didn’t spare a glance at Louis. If she did, she might not be able to keep from laughing again.

“Yes, thank you both for coming.” Sister Marcelle went to her desk, but she didn’t sit. Instead she set her fingers on a sheet of paper lying there and shifted it back and forth, back and forth. She cleared her throat.

The head sister had always exhibited a calm, controlled demeanor, but clearly she was distressed today. The worry Evelyn had felt downstairs returned with greater intensity. Whatever the news, it wouldn’t be pleasant. Evelyn squeezed Louis’s hand and risked a quick peek at him. He, too, must have sensed the discomfort in the air. His earlier smile had been replaced by a tight frown.

“I will get right to it.” Sister Marcelle placed her palm flat against the paper and lifted her chin. “I received word this morning that you are being transferred, Nurse Gray.”

“Transferred?” Evelyn echoed, reeling back as if slapped. “To where?”

“The front lines. A truck will be here tomorrow to take you and Dr. Dupont to your new assignment.”

“And me.” Louis stood tall, his small chest puffed out. “I am going, too.”

“I am afraid that is not possible, Louis.” Sister Marcelle came around the desk. “You will need to stay—”

“No.” He pulled his hand from Evelyn’s grip and twisted to face her. “I can come with you, Nurse Gray. I can help. I can.”

Evelyn’s heart felt as if someone had twisted it full circle. How could she leave Louis behind, and yet what choice did she have? She had no legal claim on the boy, and she would not put him in danger by taking him with her to the front.

Kneeling, she took both of his hands in hers. “Louis, you can’t come with me. You know that. It’s much too dangerous. You have a home here, with Nurse Thornton and Sister Marcelle and all the others.”

Several tears slipped down his clamped jaw. The determined light in his black eyes reminded her so much of Joel that it hurt. “But you will not be here,” he argued in a fierce tone.

“For a while, yes—”

“No,” he repeated. Yanking his hands from hers, he darted past her and flung open the door.

“Louis?” Evelyn rose to her feet and started after him, but Sister Marcelle called her back.

“Let him go,” she said in a gentle voice. “I knew he would need some time to accept the change. I will look in on him in a bit.”

“Thank you.” Evelyn longed to follow him, to bury her own head beneath a pillow and sob. She had thought her time for good-byes had passed with the loss of her baby, and now it was sooner than she’d expected.

“I am sorry you cannot stay, Nurse Gray. You will be greatly missed, and not only by Louis.”

“Do you think there is a chance I could be transferred back?”

The sister lifted her hands in a helpless gesture. “I suppose it is possible. In the meantime, we will have the boy write to you, and you are always welcome to come here on leave.”

Evelyn pinched the bridge of her nose. A headache was forming. Her next leave was still weeks away. “You—you will look out for him?”

Sister Marcelle nodded. “While a hospital is not the best place for a young boy, he is welcome to stay here as long as he likes.”

“I wish I could do more for him. He is…” Evelyn let her voice trail off. Was it silly that she and Louis were the closest thing to family either of them had now?

“He is a good boy and loves you very much. I do not think your bond is one that will be severed with time or distance.” Sister Marcelle’s voice was soft, almost wistful. “Nor do I think it a coincidence that you met one another before his mother died.”

Evelyn studied the sister’s lined face. “You are very good with him.”