Hope Rising (24 page)

One corner of Joel’s mouth quirked up at Louis’s admission, but it fell just as quickly. “I heard about your mother. I’m sorry.”

The boy plucked at some grass. “I wish she were here, too.” He shot a sideways glance at Joel. “I think of Evelyn as
Maman
Evelyn sometimes. Do you think that is all right?
Ma
mère
will not care, will she?”

Joel cleared his throat over the swell of sympathy and gratitude settling there.
Thank you, God, that Evelyn had Louis here with her—that they have each other.
He might never hear the word
father
directed at him, but at least Evelyn had someone who thought of her as
mommy
, even if she was no longer pregnant. “I imagine your mother doesn’t mind at all, and I’m sure Evelyn would be happy to know you think of her in that way.”

“Are you going to marry her?”

The question sliced through Joel, renewing his guilt and bitter disappointment, though he could tell from Louis’s innocent tone that the boy didn’t know his and Evelyn’s previous plans. “I’m not sure, kid. How come?”

“Because I saw you kissing the night before you left.” He grimaced in a way that made Joel chuckle.

“Ah.” Joel ripped off a blade of grass and fingered it. Should he explain? “I like Nurse Gray a lot, but I’m not sure she likes me as much.”
At least not anymore.

“She likes you,” Louis said, making a pile with his grass.

“How do you know that?”

He shrugged. “Because she told me so.”

“When?”

“The other day.” He pulled more grass and added it to his stack. “She could not read to me because she had to write you a letter. She looked sad when she was all done, so I asked her why. She said the thing she told you was hard.”

Joel glanced at the boy’s bent head, trying to squelch the faint stirring of hopefulness inside him. “That’s when she said she liked me?”

Louis nodded. “‘If it is hard,’ I asked her, ‘does that mean you do not like the corporal anymore?’ She said, ‘
Non
, it is hard because I do like him.’”

Could Louis be right? Joel wanted to believe him, wanted it more than anything he’d ever wanted.

“So,” the boy stated, “you must marry her.”

“Because we kissed?” If only things could be that simple between him and Evelyn.

Louis shot him a scathing look. “No. Because God brought her to you and to me.”

The words, spoken with the sureness and innocence of a child, lodged in Joel’s mind and heart. He’d foolishly thought he was the one in control, the one making plans and doing what he could to fulfill those, when it had been God all along. Though he’d lost his brother and his best friend, God had still led him to the woman he loved more deeply and fervently than he’d hoped to ever love a woman. God’s plans had proven much better than his own in bringing richness and happiness to his life.

And like a fool, I drove Evelyn away with my guilt and fear of losing her in the first place.
Joel lowered his chin in shame. He should have told Evelyn everything before he’d left—he could see that now.

Could he have saved Ralph’s life by insisting his best friend go with the other group? Perhaps. But hadn’t Dr. Dupont told Evelyn that asking “what might have been” was useless?

Joel thought of his younger brother—cheerful, charismatic Tom—who’d died while attempting to save a fellow soldier. Hadn’t Ralph done something similar by choosing to be a loyal friend and stick to Joel’s side as he’d always done in battle?

Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.

In light of Ralph and Tom’s deaths, the simple verse of scripture took on a deeper personal meaning. Tears pricked his eyes, and Joel was powerless to hold them back as the grief he’d held inside for so long finally broke free.

After a few minutes, he felt a small hand pat his arm. “It is all right, Corporal. I cried, too, when
Maman
Evelyn left. But she promised she would be back.”

“Then she’ll be back,” Joel said, wiping at his wet eyes with his thumb.

The real question was would Evelyn take
him
back? Especially once he told her everything about Ralph’s death. Just because he felt relieved of the burden he’d been carrying didn’t mean Evelyn would feel the same. There was the real possibility she’d reject a second proposal of marriage from him.

And yet he had to try.

Reaching into his pack, Joel pulled out his bird notebook. “I want you to have this, Louis. Will you take good care of it until I come back, with Evelyn?”

Louis glanced at the notebook, then up to Joel’s face. “You are going to bring her back, for good?”

“If she’ll let me.”

Louis grabbed the book and jumped up. “Hurray!
Maman
Evelyn is coming back to stay!”

With a chuckle, Joel climbed to his feet. “Hold on, kid. I’ve got to find her first.”

“Nurse Thornton and Sister Marcelle know where she is.”

“I guess we’d better go talk to them then.” Joel hefted his pack and slung it onto his shoulder.

Louis hopped from one foot to the other. “Will you bring her back today?”

Joel wished he could say “yes.” He wanted nothing more than to find Evelyn, confess what he hadn’t, kiss her soundly, and bring her back to the safety of the hospital. Then he’d marry her, if she would have him. “I wish I could, Louis. But I get my orders tonight and leave first thing for the front lines in the morning.”

The boy’s enthusiasm faded to a frown and he kicked at a pebble with his bare foot. “What if you do not come back and neither does Evelyn?”

Kneeling down, Joel put his hand on Louis’s shoulder and waited for him to lift his head. “As soon as we’re pulled off the line to rest, I’ll go after her. I promise. I will do everything in my power to get her safely back here.”

Those black eyes, which ironically looked similar to Evelyn’s, stared back at him. “If you do come back, Corporal, and marry
Maman
Evelyn, does that mean I can call you
mon père
?”

Joel coughed to clear his throat. He wouldn’t start weeping all over again, even if these were tears of joy. “I would be proud to be called your father.”

He stood and led Louis by the shoulder toward the hospital. God willing, he’d find Evelyn and convince her to marry him—and soon. Joel looked down at Louis, bouncing even as they walked. Perhaps there was even a way he and Evelyn could have the family they’d both dreamt of, after all.

R
eady to brave the mud to dinner?” Evelyn’s tent mate, Janet Rutledge, arched her eyebrows, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement, as she pulled on a coat.

Despite the complete exhaustion weighing down every one of her muscles, Evelyn couldn’t help smiling. Janet never seemed to run out of optimism, despite the long hours, the awful food, the incessant mud, or the brutality of the wounds they saw every day at the evacuation hospital.

“I just need my coat,” Evelyn answered.

She walked past the operating tables to the other side of the large tent. She’d almost forgotten what the tops of the tables looked like without wounded soldiers lying on them. Grabbing her coat from where she’d stowed it early that morning, she drew it on and followed Janet outside.

A cold breeze made Evelyn shiver, and she pulled her coat tighter around herself. Another two weeks and it would be October. She’d been at the front lines for almost a month. It felt much longer. How was Louis doing? She hadn’t received a letter yet, though she guessed the mail was backed up as usual. Her thoughts turned to Joel next. Was he all right? How close was his regiment to the evacuation hospital? Every time she assisted Dr. Dupont or the other surgeons, Evelyn would hold her breath until she was certain the dirty face of the soldier lying on the table wasn’t Joel’s.

She pushed her incessant worries to the back of her mind and trudged along behind Janet. They headed up the hill toward the woods, where the kitchen tents were kept. Her shoes sank above her ankles in the thick mud as she walked, eliciting a sigh from Evelyn. Mud was as constant as the wounded here at the front.

She and Janet reached the brow of the hill and entered the trees. Another minute brought the kitchen tents into view. Lanterns cast the silhouettes of those inside against the canvas walls, reminding Evelyn of the shadow shows her grandfather used to do using a lamp and a sheet. The murmur of conversation and the steam from hot coffee wrapped itself around Evelyn as she and Janet slipped inside.

Armed with a plate of food and a cup of coffee, Evelyn took a seat across from Janet at one of the tables. The meat, whatever it might be, was no longer hot and the coffee wasn’t much better, but as hungry as she was, Evelyn ate what she could. What she wouldn’t give for her grandmother’s cooking or even the blandness of Cook’s meals at St. Vincent’s.

Tears stung her eyes as she stared down at her plate. Her work in the surgery tent kept her hands and mind too busy to think of anything else. However, memories of Joel, Louis, or the baby would sneak in at a moment’s rest or at night before bed.

“We could pretend it’s steak.” Janet pointed with her fork at Evelyn’s half-eaten dinner. “With mashed potatoes.”

Evelyn recognized her friend’s attempt to pull her from her sadness—it wasn’t the first time. She needed to stop thinking about the past and focus on the present.

“What about freshly baked rolls?” Evelyn added, joining in Janet’s game. “With real butter and strawberry preserves.”

Janet murmured agreement. “And for dessert, apple pie.”

Evelyn shook her head. “I’ll take chocolate—real chocolate.” The mention of her favorite sweet prompted the memory of Louis’s picnic with the fudge and how they’d chased each other in the rain afterward. Only one week more, and she’d be given leave. Then she’d be able to see Louis and Alice and Sister Marcelle again.

But not Joel.

Even though weeks had passed since she’d last seen him, Evelyn could remember nearly everything about his face, his kisses. She might have released him from their agreement to marry, but she couldn’t release him completely from her heart.

“How do you do it, Janet?” she asked, needing a new direction for her thoughts.

“Do what?”

Evelyn waved her fork to encompass the tent and its other occupants. “How do you stay cheerful in a place like this?”

To Evelyn’s surprise, Janet didn’t laugh or smile as Evelyn had expected. Instead the other nurse lowered her gaze as she pushed her food around her plate.

“I’m sorry,” Evelyn said. “I don’t mean to pry—”

Janet shook her head, that customary smile lighting her face for a moment. “You don’t need to apologize. I’m just not sure how to answer.” She set her fork down. “I chose misery and guilt in the past and my life suffered because of it. Now I choose cheerfulness and my life is blessed.”

Evelyn sampled a large bite to keep herself from questioning Janet further, though she wanted very much to know what the other nurse meant. The two had worked together and shared a tent for three weeks, but Evelyn still knew very little about Janet.

“I was married,” Janet said, her voice low, “to a wonderful man. We had a beautiful little boy.”

Evelyn glanced at Janet’s hand—she wore no ring. She’d never mentioned having a family either. What had happened to them? Evelyn ate slowly, both curious and anxious at what Janet’s story might be.

“My husband suspected the United States would enter the war long before we actually did. He was older and knew he wouldn’t be able to enlist, so he encouraged me to become a nurse. That would be our family’s contribution to the war effort.” Janet pushed her half-eaten meal to the side and cupped her hands around her mug. “I’d always liked helping others, and I enjoyed nurses’ training.”

“Didn’t you miss your family?”

Janet looked down into her coffee. “Very much. But I came home as often as I could.” She visibly swallowed, and Evelyn thought she saw Janet’s hands tremble slightly as she brought her mug to her lips and took a drink. “One day, about two years into my training, I got word that there’d been a fire. I rushed home…only to find I was too late. The fire took both my husband and my boy.”

Evelyn covered her mouth with her hand as sympathy and sorrow rushed through her for her friend. She might have experienced the agony of losing a baby and being separated from those she loved dearly, but she hadn’t been married with a family. “I’m so very sorry to hear that.”

The other nurse shrugged, though the unshed tears in her eyes caught the lantern light and glistened. “It was a very dark time for me. I quit nurses’ training and went to live with my parents again. For weeks I didn’t leave the house. I kept thinking if I hadn’t pursued nursing, I could have saved them. I was bitter and angry.” She glanced at Evelyn. “Then one day, our neighbor came over, in hysterics. Her daughter was very ill. I overheard her talking with my mother and something in me snapped to attention. I had the woman take me to her daughter.”

“Did she get well?’

“Yes.” A soft smile lifted Janet’s mouth. “All that training flooded back and I was able to help her, over the course of a few days, to fully recover. That experience saved me.” She brushed strands of blond hair beneath her nurse’s cap. “I realized I had a choice. I could choose to continue my course of isolation and bitterness. Or I could choose to find joy, despite the horror I’d lived through. I’d tried the first way and was miserable, so I figured I would try the second.”

It was Evelyn’s turn to move her food around her plate. She didn’t need Janet’s story to remind her there were things she still clung stubbornly to, instead of nourishing the fledging faith she’d rediscovered. “So you came over here?”

Janet nodded. “I finished my training, joined the Army Nurse Corps, and came to France. Which has been such a rewarding experience.”

“But wouldn’t you rather have your family than nursing?” Evelyn regretted her question at once. “I—I didn’t mean—”

“No, I understand.” Janet waved away her explanation. “Yes, I wish I still had my husband and my boy, and I will probably never stop wishing that. But I realized I could still use the gifts and training God had blessed me with to bless others.” She looked Evelyn in the eye as she added, “From the ashes of my grief, He gave me opportunities I might not have had any other way.”

The simple admission pierced straight through Evelyn’s heart, and she struggled to hold back her own tears. “Thank you—for sharing all of that.” Evelyn braved a smile for her friend.

Janet returned the gesture. “You’re welcome.”

They finished the rest of their meal in companionable silence.

“You ready to head back?” Janet asked.

“Back through the mud.”

Janet laughed as they cleared their dishes and stepped back out into the cold, black night. Evelyn didn’t worry about seeing, though. She could find her way back to the tents in total darkness.

Gritting her teeth against the chill, she followed Janet through the woods to their tent. Once inside, she lit a candle, then she and Janet grabbed their canteens and went to fill them. When they returned to their tent, Evelyn placed her canteen under her pillow. By morning it wouldn’t be so frigid, and she’d use it to wash up quickly before going to breakfast.

She shivered into her night clothes, pulled on her wool socks, and scrambled into her sleeping bag. As the last one dressed, Janet blew out the candle. The other cot squeaked as Janet settled into it.

Evelyn stared up through the dark in the direction of the canvas ceiling. Normally she fell asleep within minutes of climbing into bed, but tonight, she found herself strangely awake. She thought over her friend’s experiences and, for the first time since coming to the front, felt compelled to share her own.

“Janet? Are you still awake?”

“Yes.”

Evelyn inhaled, then let the words out in a rush. “I was pregnant up until a few weeks ago. I had a miscarriage.”

“How awful.” Janet’s voice, full of compassion, floated through the darkness. “And your husband? Where is he?”

Rolling onto her side, Evelyn was grateful Janet couldn’t see the blush heating her face. “I’m—I’m not married. The baby’s father was killed in battle two and a half months ago. We met on leave. When he heard about the baby, he promised to marry me as soon as he could, but…” She fisted her hands against the rise of emotion in her throat. There was so much more to unburden. “I met his best friend, though. He was brought to the hospital after being wounded in the same battle that killed Ralph.”

Evelyn went on to share the events of the past few months. The more she did, the easier it became. She told Janet everything about her relationship with Joel—from that first meeting to telling him in the letter they no longer needed to marry. She talked about Louis and the motherly instincts and joy she felt caring for him. The details of the miscarriage were the hardest to relay, but Evelyn managed to voice them, despite the tears that dampened the corner of her pillow.

When she ran out of things to say, Evelyn flipped onto her back and gripped the sleeping bag tightly between her hands. What would Janet say? Would she condemn Evelyn’s choices?

“That’s quite a lot to go through,” Janet finally said. Her cot creaked as she shifted her weight. “I’m sorry to hear you’ve spent some time in the same hopeless place I was in.”

Evelyn twisted her head to peer through the dark in Janet’s direction. “It’s not the same, though. A lot of this I brought on myself, Janet.”

“Ahh.” Evelyn could hear the soft smile in Janet’s voice. “Much of my heartache was my own creation. Like I told you earlier, I blamed myself for not being where I thought I should have been—with my family. Difficult things, whether of our own making or not, can still bring hope and happiness to our lives. If we choose to embrace them.”

Janet’s counsel seeped down into Evelyn’s soul, just as the cleansing moisture from the heavens the day she and Louis had played in the rain. Her friend’s words were clear echoes of things Sister Marcelle and Dr. Dupont had both tried to share, about God working through her and the importance of letting go of questions about changing the past.

“Look what’s come from meeting Louis,” Janet said. “You may have lost one child, but it sounds to me as if you’ve gained another.”

Evelyn sniffed and wiped her wet cheeks with the edge of the sleeping bag. It was the same conclusion she’d come to before leaving the hospital. “I don’t think I would adore him more if he were my own flesh and blood.”

“What about Joel Campbell?” She sensed the smile had returned to Janet’s face. “I do enjoy a good love story and yours sounds very promising.”

Evelyn gave a bitter laugh. “I told him it was over, Janet. I can’t give him the child he wants. Why would he want to marry me now?”

Her friend laughed, but the sound wasn’t condescending. “A man doesn’t go to the trouble to propose if he doesn’t hope for more than a child from a woman. If the arrangement had been all business, he would have accepted your proposal instead of wanting to issue one of his own.”

Evelyn mulled over Janet’s explanation. Could her friend be right? Could Joel still love her, even if she was no longer pregnant? She released a frustrated groan. “What have I done? I practically told him I didn’t love him anymore, which couldn’t be farther from the truth.”

“So tell him.”

“You mean write him again?”

“Yes.”

Evelyn fiddled with the edge of the sleeping bag. “I don’t know where he is right now. What if he’s already…put our relationship behind him? What if he wants nothing to do with me?”

Janet’s cot creaked again. “You won’t have the answers to those questions unless you try to contact him. Besides, we can probably figure out where his regiment is stationed.”

“I’m afraid I don’t deserve happiness with him.”

“Whether we deserve God’s bounteous blessings or not, He wants to give them to us.” Janet’s voice, though quiet, carried conviction and strength. “But we have to step away from the sorrow and hurt to embrace that goodness. He won’t force us to come.”

Evelyn lay silent for a minute or two, pondering over their conversation. She felt lighter and more peaceful than she had since coming to the front. And she knew to Whom she needed to express appreciation.

Thank you,
for
bringing
Janet and Joel and Louis and Ralph into my life. Thank you, for the hope and happiness You gave, even when I wasn’t aware of it.

“Thanks for your help, Janet.”

The modesty and shyness were evident in her friend’s simple reply: “You’re very welcome, Evelyn.”