No Greater Love

by Cate Dean

  “We were damned lucky. It should have been worse.” Philips studied the damage, his face blood-streaked and exhausted. “It should have been much worse.”

  “No deaths, Tom.” Nick laid one hand on his shoulder. “You have good people here.”

  “I would rather they be lounging in the sun. Back in England. Damn this war.” He stared at the blood on his hands. “God damn this war.”

  “Get some sleep, Tom. You can’t do anything else here.”

  He nodded. “Take your own advice. You look like hell.”

  Nick laughed, knowing it was true. “As soon as I finish what I was doing.”

  “Sister Belham is fine.” Nick stared at him. “I am an observant man, Captain. She is one of my finest nurses and I would hate to lose her. Step carefully. I will not report her, but not everyone here is her friend.”

  “Thanks.”

  Philips nodded, and Nick watched him walk toward the officer’s quarters. He had been warned, and he wouldn’t let Victoria suffer for his lapse. Nick would have to keep his hands to himself.

  He rubbed his aching shoulder, then turned back to help move the last of the men inside. It took all his control not to look for Victoria, but he heard her voice as she gave orders, and calmed men who were in pain. He loved the sound of her voice, soft and gentle. If he had his choice, he’d spend the rest of his life listening to it.

  That part was up to her. And he was fast running out of time.

  Ten

  IN SPITE OF every argument he could think of, Nick found himself in bed, with orders not to leave. Those orders came directly from Philips.

  Victoria was safe, and Reed had told him during a quick stop in the hut that they had no deaths. So far.

  The one time Nick disobeyed and levered himself out of bed, the pain in his left arm, and the nasty throb in his right shoulder, sent him straight back. He was useless, and he knew it.

  His body finally took control, demanding sleep. By the time he resurfaced, it was dark.

  “Feeling better?” Reed stood at the end of the bed, hands on his hips. He looked like he hadn’t slept since the raid.

  “How long—” Nick cleared his throat. “How long have I been out?”

  “More than a day. It is almost dawn—” Reed cut himself off and caught Nick’s left shoulder when he started to push himself out of bed. “You are going nowhere, mate.”

  “Victoria—”

  “Is fine. She has been assisting me with the wounded. I just sent her to her bed.”

  “I need to see her.” Nick tried to keep the panic out of his rasping voice. Reed’s next comment told him it obviously didn’t work.

  “She needs sleep more. I’m hardly blind, mate—I can see what is between you. Give her a few hours to rest. I’ll not stop you after that.”

  “Fine.” That meant today was day six. He had to see her. “But I’m getting up.” If he stayed here, he would drive himself crazy. “Do I have to fight you on that?”

  Reed held up his hands. “You are not my patient. But if the Major asks, I will say that this was your decision, against doctor’s advice.”

  “Can’t argue with that. You should take your own advice—you look like hell.”

  “I am about to, for a few minutes. If you feel up to it, we can use extra hands in the wards today.”

  “I’ll be there.” As soon as he saw Victoria, arranged to meet her today.

  “Thank you.” Reed ran one hand through his hair, and let out a sigh. “We were fortunate this time. I fear our luck may run out, if the Germans continue with this tactic.”

  Before Nick could comment, Reed strode to his bed and dropped to it. By the time Nick had dressed, his jaw clenched against the pain, Reed was snoring.

  Nick picked up the extra blanket off the end of his bed and draped it over the sprawled figure. Reed didn’t even twitch.

  His heart pounded as he walked out of the hut, despair more painful than his wounds.

  Only Victoria could save him now, and he wasn’t sure she would be able to say the words that would keep him out of his own personal hell.

  VICTORIA TENDED THE injured men all night, and through the next day, accepting the offered breaks from the other nurses when she had to step away from the constant pain around her. She was the Matron, where they no longer had a Matron, and it was her responsibility to watch the men for signs of infection, or that they were suffering. They had already suffered enough.

  She had plenty of time to think; too much time, and she spent most of it thinking about Nick.

  Somehow, he had managed to find his way in past the wall she had built around her heart, touching her in a way that Richard never could. It made her long, ache, and want to push him away, all at the same time.

  When she felt safe enough to leave them, just after sunrise, she still had not decided what to do about him.

  She headed for the small ward that had been designated as temporary quarters for the nurses, until more permanent arrangements could be made. Out of habit, she undressed, washed herself, and slipped on the pajamas that a kind Sister had left for her, before climbing into the unfamiliar bed. Katherine had told her that their hut had been mostly undamaged, so her belongings were in the pharmacy. She was too exhausted to do anything about them at the moment.

  As soon as her head touched the pillow, her mind started working. All she could think about was Nick.

  With a silent curse, she pushed to her feet and dressed in her bloodstained, ripped uniform, leaving off the apron. This early, Nick would most likely be in his hut. She would think of an excuse to get inside on her way there.

  Halfway across the grounds, she knew she wouldn’t have to. Nick was walking her way, his head down, the morning breeze ruffling his hair. He had not seen her yet, so she moved until she stood in his path.

  “Good morning.”

  He jerked to a halt—and startled her by stalking forward and pulling her into his arms, in front of anyone who may walk by.

  “Thank God,” he whispered. “I thought I’d dreamed our conversation. I was ordered to bed, and I couldn’t get to you.”

  She would ask why later. Right now, she simply wanted to hold him, no longer caring who might see them.

  “I am here, Nick.” She rubbed his back, soothing him as he shook against her. “We are both here.”

  Too soon, he let her go, tucking his hands in the pockets of his trousers. She understood the reason, and appreciated him more for thinking of her reputation, and her position here.

  She also noticed the fresh bandage on his left forearm, peeking out from under his rolled sleeve.

  “You were hurt,” she whispered. “No one told me.”

  “The duck board tried to take a bite out of me. It’s nothing, Victoria.”

  “Let me be the judge.” She eased his hand out of his pocket, and gently unwrapped the bandage. “It must hurt you.”

  “I don’t know what hurts more—this or my shoulder.”

  She pulled a small canteen out of her pocket, cleaned the already clean wound, then pulled a length of bandage out of her other pocket.

  He smiled at her. “You’re like the Boy Scouts—always prepared.”

  “I learned the hard way to always keep supplies to hand.” She bandaged his forearm, aware of his gaze, his presence. She wanted him to kiss her so badly she could hardly breathe for it. “Nick...”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her between the buildings, moving until they were at the back of the officer’s mess, facing the vegetable garden. Then he backed her against the wall and kissed her until she could not think straight.

  “God—you taste so good, Victoria.” He proved the truth of his words by kissing her again, taking the kiss deeper this time. She clutched the back of his shirt, wanting him closer, wanting to feel his warm skin against hers. He freed her lips, kissing his way to her ear. Her knees threatened to buckle when he started nibbling her earlobe. “I want to finish what we started.”

  “Nick—I—
we cannot.”

  He stilled against her, and eased back. “I get it. I thought you liked me touching you.” He let her go. “Sorry for the misunderstanding.”

  “Nick!” Panic edged her voice, and she hated that she sounded desperate. He halted, his back to her. “Please—I love the way you touch me. It frightens me.” He turned, and she took a step back at the intensity of his gaze. “The way I feel about you frightens me.”

  He stalked to her, not stopping until he had her trapped against the wall of the mess.

  “How do you feel about me?” She stared at him, her heart pounding so fast she was afraid she might pass out. “It’s a simple question, Victoria.”

  “This is difficult for me.”

  “Because of your husband.”

  She nodded, then took the cowardly way out and stared at his throat. “I swore that I would never tie myself to another soldier. A solemn oath, Nick. One that you tempt me to break. That terrifies me.”

  He cupped her chin, applied pressure until she met his eyes. “I need to know, Victoria, and soon. If you don’t tell me what I need to hear, I won’t be able to stay.”

  His sober gaze told her he spoke the truth, and meant every word. “Why?” she whispered. “Why would you leave?”

  “Not by choice, believe me.” He sighed, and laid his forehead to hers. “As much as I want to, I can’t say any more than that. Now kiss me, and give me a reason to hope. My shift starts in a few minutes. I’m filling in for one of the orderlies who was injured.”

  She studied his face; a face that had become so dear to her in so short a time. Her fingers traced the line of his cheek, the stubble of his beard rough against her fingertips. Nick closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. What she loved most about him was his easy acceptance of her, his ability to share his emotions. Stuffy social conventions were not part of his makeup.

  “God, beautiful—you’re driving me crazy.”

  He captured her lips, his kiss surprisingly tender, when she expected rough, frustrated. His hands slid down to her waist, pulling her in to press against his arousal. She moaned against his lips, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  After endless minutes, he eased back, a smile tugging at his lips. It made her want to start kissing him again, lose herself in the funny, surprisingly gentle man who held her.

  “Okay,” he whispered, his voice rough. “I have to go. Meet me at my place later?”

  “I would love to.” He closed his eyes at her words, his throat working. “Nick?”

  “Just tired, beautiful. Get some rest.” He kissed the tip of her nose and stepped back. “I’ll have to find an apron to wear for my shift.”

  She glanced down at his trousers, and let out a laugh, covering her mouth at the audacity of it. “Nick—I am—ˮ

  “Don’t you dare.” He hauled her forward and kissed her one more time, hot and fast. “I’m not the least bit sorry.”

  He winked at her, then let her go, walking out toward the main part of camp like he had been out for a pleasure stroll.

  Victoria sagged against the wall and laid one hand over her heart.

  Nick’s words left her panicked, and more than a little confused. There was something he was not telling her; something she guessed he could not tell her.

  Whatever it was, she had to let him know how she felt, or risk losing the one man she could imagine spending the rest of her life loving.

  NICK SHOWED UP at the first ward, and was immediately pulled into service.

  Relieved for the distraction, and more relieved that he’d be seeing Victoria later, Nick pulled out his shirttails for the duration of his shift. Only Reed seemed to notice, and he was too busy dealing with the wounded to say anything. Nick was grateful for the man’s silence; he’d finally started liking the sometimes-pompous doctor, and would hate to ruin that by punching him.

  His left arm throbbed, his shoulder so stiff he couldn’t lift his arm higher than his waist. He managed to hide it—or thought he did, until Reed stopped next to him.

  “Get out of here, Saunders, before I am forced to order you back to bed. And take my coat.” He gestured to the line of hooks in the corner. “I would prefer not to have yet another patient.”

  “Right.” He wasn’t about to argue. Besides, Reed would personally drag him back to their hut if the man thought Nick was a threat to his patients.

  He eased into the wool coat, and walked out of the ward, letting the cold wind dry the sweat on his face. Now that he had no distractions, the pain in his arm flared into life.

  His thoughts kept wandering to Victoria. She cared for him, and he thought it might even be love. But she was so skittish, and so afraid of being hurt, he worried that he wouldn’t be able to get her to admit to her feelings in time.

  He planned on gently prodding her tonight, until she did. Tomorrow was deadline day, and he didn’t know how much time he’d have after the sun rose. It would have to be tonight.

  With his plans set, he headed for mess, determined to stay awake until it was time to meet her. He couldn’t afford to lose another minute with her, not now.

  He was fast running out of time.

  VICTORIA STOPPED IN the med hut to check on Nick, and learned from one of her nurses that he had been dismissed early. Nodding her thanks, she took a deep breath, and headed over to the hut Nick shared with Major Reed.

  She knew the doctor was on duty, and there would be no chance of running into him. Her fingers shook as she smoothed the skirt of her clean uniform. She had taken the time to move her belongings into her temporary quarters, seriously in need of clean clothing. A uniform would keep her from standing out as she crossed the camp. Her nerves were enough to do that, if anyone looked closely enough.

  She stopped to check on Will, needing the time to help calm herself. The boy’s wide smile and easy laugh would make it easier for her to accomplish.

  “How are you this fine evening, Will?”

  “Alive and breathing, Sister.”

  She sat on the stool next to his bed. “I told you to call me Victoria.”

  “I would, Sister. But my mum would pull my earlobes red if she found out I was so familiar with one of the nurses dedicated to caring for me.”

  Victoria laughed, then eased the blanket down to check on his leg. “Any pain?”

  “What did you call it—phantom pain. I keep feeling it in my calf. Strange to feel pain in something not there.”

  “It will pass, with time.” She checked his temperature, and then took a look at his chest wound. Everything looked clean, and was healing well. “And you, young man, will be seeing your mum soon.”

  Hope lit his brown eyes. “I will be headed back to England?”

  Victoria smiled, the weight on her heart lightening. “Yes, Will. I am going to put your name at the top of the list for home.”

  He gripped her hand, his strength encouraging. “Thank you, Sister. Thank you for everything.”

  Her smile faded. “I wish I could have done more, Will. I wish I could have—”

  “My leg won’t be stopping me, Sister. I have a job waiting for me, as a newspaperman. My dad owns the local, and he is about to have a celebrity as a reporter.”

  Victoria closed her hand over his. “That is exciting news, Will. I am thrilled for you.”

  He gave her a grin. “I will send you my first edition, if you like.”

  “I would like that, very much.” She patted his hand and stood. “Get some rest. I will stop by and see you later tonight.”

  He was already nodding off by the time she reached the entrance to the tent. Victoria knew he was still healing, and would be for some time. She was happy that he would be able to convalesce surrounded by the people who loved him.

  Once she was outside, her nerves took hold again. She wanted so much to tell Nick how she felt. But she was terrified of opening her heart again, even as she trusted her heart with him. A stray bullet could take him from her as quickly as a hurtful word.

  “S
top stalling, Victoria. Nick is a good man, and you will not do better,” she murmured. “Not with your history.”

  She squared her shoulders and headed for the hut he shared with Major Reed. Her knock yielded no response, so she opened the door and stepped inside. “Nick? Are you awake?”

  Silence answered her. She moved inside and closed the door, shaking her head at the mess. Richard had been the same; she had been able to track him through their house by the trail he left behind him.

  Nick’s space was empty, a single lamp on, and marginally neater, most likely because he had not been here long enough to make more of a mess. She started straightening, to give her hands something to do while she waited for him. After hanging up several shirts, she found the trousers Nick had been wearing when they first met. It seemed like she had known him for years, even though it had been merely days.

  With a smile, she picked up the trousers, moving them to the pile for the laundry. Something slipped out of a pocket and clinked on the floor. Victoria set the trousers on the bed, and bent down to retrieve it.

  “What is this?” A set of silver rectangles were strung on a chain of small silver beads. They looked like identification tags, but these were different from the round, brick red asbestos fiber and brown octagon disks issued to every soldier.

  These tags were metal, stamped with Nick’s name, and a number, and other information she did not recognize. These were not military issue. Not any that she had seen—

  “Victoria?” Nick’s voice froze her. “I didn’t expect you here yet, beautiful.” He moved to her. “Victoria—what’s wrong?”

  She stood, her hand trembling when she held the tags up. “What are these?”

  Nick closed his eyes, and her heart threatened to break. In that moment, she knew he had been hiding something from her, something so big they may not be able to move past it.