“But you’re not serious.”
Her flat statement surprised him, and he couldn’t hold back his laughter. She had no idea how ludicrous she sounded. “You’ve got to be kidding. Nobody’s serious. Not over here.”
Her brows drew together wrinkling the skin between them as she glanced up at him. Something familiar in her frowning face stifled his amusement. His throat tightened. She wasn’t kidding. She really didn’t get it.
“We’re just having a good time, while we can,” he said. “You know what it’s like.” He released her arm and slowed down, unsure why he needed to explain himself. “There’s no point in thinking about the future. Not here. Nobody knows what’s going to happen. So we just have fun while we can.”
She stopped and looked him in the eye, her expression filled with concern—and something else. Anger, maybe. “Just make sure Madge understands that.”
Her words, and the way she looked at him, scared him a little.
“Are you saying she’s getting serious? About me?” The idea was incredible.
“Yes. I think so.”
“Well, that’s just nuts.” He reached up and scratched the back of his head, pushing his hat forward and to one side as he did.
She turned her head, but before she did, he saw her eyes crinkle, and he realized she was trying not to smile. And he wanted to see her smile, for him, just for him.
The women’s mess stood only a few feet away. She moved toward it. He jumped to her side and snatched his hat from his head.
Just before reaching the door she spoke. “Maybe so, but these things happen.” She faced him and nodded. “Good night, Lieutenant.”
He caught her arm again, unable to fight the urge to hold onto her. “What about you? Are you always so strait-laced? Don’t you ever have any fun?”
Her gaze darted to his face. Her eyes danced in the dim light. “Sometimes.” She drew a deep, ragged breath as if she were trying to calm her nerves. He watched her lips purse together and found himself wondering what she would taste like.
She tugged her arm from his grasp. An odd sense of loss crept from his fingertips, up his arm to settle in his chest. Much as he wanted to wrap his arms around her and kiss that frown from her lips, he couldn’t make a scene, not here in front of the mess hall door.
“Goodnight,” she whispered.
He could only nod.
She disappeared, leaving a void in her wake.
From inside the clanking of dishes and pans merged with muffled voices. The familiar aromas of greasy food and stale coffee seeped through the flimsy door of the temporary building.
He turned away and forced his feet to move. Back to the castle. Back to work. Before Colonel Snyder sent someone to look for him.
****
Ted shook his head to rid his brain of Kitty’s image. What had happened? What was it about her frowning face that made him want to pull her into his arms? Why had he desperately wanted her to smile at him?
Maybe it was because she shied away from him, frowned at him every time he came around. Disapproval oozed from her, fueling his need to be the clown, to act out like a kid in school taunting the teacher by entertaining the other children.
He didn’t like to think of himself that way. He wasn’t a kid anymore. He’d grown up. He’d had to. In some ways he’d never been a kid, not like the others. His father’s death had made sure of that.
His mind returned to Kitty. Something drew him to her. Did he want her approval? She was Madge’s friend. And she had made it clear she was worried that Madge might get hurt.
He disagreed. Madge knew the score. She liked a good time just like he did.
And her luscious body, that picture perfect face, provided the perfect distraction from the dark depths that lingered under the surface. He couldn’t go there. Wouldn’t.
He’d think about beautiful, blonde Madge.
Then why did dark-haired, prim and proper Kitty creep into this thoughts? What was it about her?
A couple of times he’d caught her looking at him, as if she were trying to see through the façade. She knew. Somehow she knew he was putting on an act, knew all his bravado covered up his fear and his pain. But he didn’t sense condemnation. Her disapproval felt more like disappointment.
He wanted to fix that. Wanted her to like him. That was all it was. He just wanted Madge’s friend’s approval and friendship.
“There you are.” The young corporal came running down the hallway.
“What’s going on?” Ted asked.
“It’s Colonel Snyder. He’s on a rampage. Says we’ve got the flight path for tomorrow all wrong.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to him.” Ted gritted his teeth. He hated working for a man who didn’t care what happened to the men in those bombers.
“He’s gonna’ make us change it.” The non-com ran along trying to keep up with Ted’s long strides. “He says it’ll take too much fuel.”
“He won’t change it. Not if he wants enough planes to get to the target to do any damage.” The route ran through his brain, the exact location of all the flack zones, the approach to the target. He’d managed to devise a route that avoided the worst of it.
Snyder hadn’t flown that many missions. He didn’t have to face the flack, the fighters. He preferred to stay behind and give orders rather than risk his own life.
An idea popped into Ted’s head, and he smiled. It was devious but it might just work.
“What are you thinking?” the corporal asked warily.
“I’m going to talk Colonel Snyder into leading this mission.”
“What!” The young man’s astonishment morphed into laughter. “You devil! That’d serve him right.” He patted Ted on the back. “You’re a genius.”
They’d almost reached their destination when the corporal asked, “How are you going to do it?”
Ted stopped and smiled down at the shorter man. “I heard Colonel Stewart led the last mission. Everybody’s impressed with him. Enough to get him promoted again, maybe even give him a group.” He looked toward the door and thought of the men waiting there. “If they give him one, that means a group leader gets bumped up here, to the wing. Snyder wants to be in line to take over the wing, but he’s afraid of the competition.”
“And if he leads a mission, it’ll look good on his record. Make points with the old man.”
“Exactly.” Ted smiled thinking of the squirming colonel. “Of course, it wouldn’t do if he got shot down or killed, now would it?”
Chapter Seven
Katherine,
Write us when you get to England and let us know how Milton is doing. It will be nice for him to have his sister close by. Try not to embarrass him like you did when you were younger when you chased after him and his friends. Boys don’t like their younger sisters running after them. Speaking of sisters, Suzanne and the children have come to live with us while Sam goes off with the Coast Guard. I think it is wrong for a married man with two children to join the service. I don’t believe for a minute that they would have drafted him. But he insisted that it was for the best.
Olivia, of course, is the most popular girl in the senior class. Several fine young men are vying for her attention. We are urging her to keep her options open so she can make sure she chooses the one with the best prospects. Bill O’Guinn is my choice. With an athletic scholarship to the University of Tennessee, he will be a great catch for some lucky girl.
Your father has Andy working at the mill after school. That way he can learn the business. When Milton gets home, he will have both his sons working with him. He says he is going to change the sign to Greenlee and Sons.
Give our love to Milton,
Mother
****
Kitty threw her mother’s letter down in disgust. Why do I even read them?
“Was it that bad?” Madge asked.
“It’s from my mother. What do you think?” She’d let Madge read her mother’s letters before so her friend understood.
“At least she’s thinking about you.”
“You’d never guess it from what she wrote. All about Milton and Suzanne and, of course, that beautiful and popular little sister of mine. She even mentioned Andy. Not once did she ask about me—what I’m doing, what I think if England—nothing.”
“So now you know what’s going on with your brothers and sisters.”
“Oh, don’t try to sugar coat it. She only writes me because she thinks she has to. And so she can tell all her friends about all the letters she writes.” She picked up the envelope and stared at it. The only mail she’d gotten all week. Why couldn’t someone else write her?
Madge moved to put her letter on the shelf above her bed.
“What about yours?” Kitty asked, not wanting to pry.
“Oh, it’s from a girl I know back in Minneapolis. She’d going out with a boy I used to date. I think she wrote me just to rub it in.”
“How long has it been since you heard from your father?”
Madge wouldn’t look at her. Kitty cringed inside, hoping she hadn’t asked the wrong question. After reaching for her nail polish, Madge finally answered. “I don’t know. He’s not much on writing.”
Kitty knew not to say anymore. Luckily, Sally stopped at the foot of the bed and held out a box.
“Homemade cookies,” she announced. “They’re kind of broken up, but they taste good.”
Kitty reached into the pasteboard box. She took two small pieces she guessed would have made about one cookie had they been whole.
Sally extended the box to Madge. “Go ahead. They’re oatmeal. My favorite.”
Madge took a large piece. “Who sent them?”
“My sister. She’s a great cook.” Sally moved on to share her treats with some of the other girls.
“Mmmm, they are good,” Kitty commented. “And a lot better than what we got.”
Madge looked up smiling and agreed. Her old cheerful self had returned.
****
What have I done?
Kitty could taste the sour remains of powdered eggs and spam churning in her stomach. Her thoughts raced through every task she’d performed in the last week. No obvious disaster came to mind. She must have missed something—something big for her to be summoned to General Lake’s office.
After identifying herself to the general’s aid, she faced the heavy, wooden door as if the executioner waited behind its deeply carved panels. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. She could do this. She could face anything. She’d made it through basic, hadn’t she? How much worse could this be?
Her hand trembled as she rapped her knuckles against the hard surface.
From beyond the wooden pane she heard, “Come in.”
The cold metal knob intensified the chill sweeping over her. Breathe, she reminded herself. Just remember to breathe.
Enthroned behind a heavy desk, General Lake’s attention focused on the paperwork spread before him.
Kitty moved across the room as quiet as a mouse until she stood at attention before her commanding officer.
He looked up. Without thinking, she straightened even more. Her hand came up in as perfect a salute as she could muster.
“Sir. Corporal Greenlee, reporting as ordered.”
“At ease, Corporal.”
His warm and friendly voice eased her tension. Her breath came more naturally. Her gaze met his, and she noticed a slight crinkling around his eyes. Not quite a smile but not as threatening as she expected. She relaxed a bit more.
“Yes, sir,” she heard herself murmur.
“Sit down, Greenlee.”
She noted the impatience in his voice. Heat rose to her face, her heart pounded. Fighting the panic, she looked around for a chair. A pair of straight-backed, leather-covered chairs stood to one side of the desk. Reining in her emotions, she eased herself down onto the edge of the closest one.
General Lake stood and walked around the desk. As he neared, Milton’s words from long ago flashed into her mind. “Look ’em straight in the eye. Don’t let ’em see your fear, no matter how scared you are.”
She sucked in air for strength and raised her head. The general leaned back against the heavy desk and crossed his arms. He looked at her briefly, then shifted his gaze to something behind her.
Oh, no. This is going to be bad.
She sat completely still. She would take whatever he dished out. She would be strong, just like Milton taught her.
“Captain Weatherby and I have been talking about you,” he started.
She could feel her heart pounding, could feel the perspiration seeping through her pores. But she looked him in the eye as he continued.
“We both agree that your work is excellent. You are quick, efficient, accurate. All critical factors.”
She hoped the shock didn’t show in her face as she fought to appear emotionless.
“Captain Weatherby tells me you received a commendation for your work in Boston. Got you a promotion and an overseas assignment.” He paused, watching her intently. “So…I’ve decided to have you report directly to me.” He uncrossed his arms before continuing. “You will work for me exclusively.”
Her mouth flew open, but she couldn’t speak, couldn’t believe her ears.
A hint of a smile softened his face as he recognized her disbelief. “A girl like you can help me a great deal. Be someone I can count on. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Her voice came out funny, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “Yes, sir,” she repeated more firmly. “I would be honored to work for you.”
“Good!” He slapped both hands against his thighs and stood. “Then let’s get to it.” He returned to his seat behind the desk. “Sergeant Dexter will get you set up just outside my door. This place”—he waved his hand around the room—“isn’t exactly set up for offices and the kind of work we do around here, but we’ll make do.”
She took her cue to leave and stood.
“A pretty, young thing like you—smart, hard-working—could do well in the military.”
She nodded, unsure how to respond. Did he really say she was pretty?
“Oh, I almost forgot. You’ll be promoted to Technical Sergeant.”
Now she was in shock. A promotion. Working for the general and a promotion.
He must have seen her reaction because he smiled broadly. A warm, laughing smile. “Go on.” He waved his hand toward her. “We’ve got work to do.”
She practically flew from the room, his comments racing through her head faster than her feet skipping across the oriental carpets. Smart. Hard-working. Efficient. Accurate. And pretty. Had he really said she was pretty? She couldn’t wait to tell Madge.
****
“It’s not like I asked you to go to church with me,” Kitty complained.
“Oh, I know. It’s just that I’ve been to the village and you haven’t,” Madge replied. “There’s nothing there.”
“Maybe so, but it won’t hurt you to look around with me.”
The two moved onto the side of the narrow road as a jeep sped by.
“Ted’ll be waiting for us,” Madge continued.
“He said to meet him at one, right?” Kitty frowned at her companion and checked her watch. “We’ve got plenty of time.”
They continued their steady pace in silence.
Blooming branches of an apple tree reached across the stone wall of a small cottage set back from the road. The sweet fragrance floated in the breeze.
Kitty ducked to avoid being hit by a cluster of blossoms. She grabbed the offending branch and snapped it off. Holding the blooms to her nose, she inhaled the sweetness.
“Don’t start sneezing on me,” Madge joked.
Kitty grinned. “Don’t worry. I’m not allergic to apple blossoms.”
“Well, I remember that weekend last fall. You were sneezing so bad you had to go back to the base. Missed the bonfire and all the fun.”
“That was golden rod. I should have known not t
o cross that field when I saw it. I knew what it would do to me.”
“It was a rotten shame, too. That guy was really crazy about you.”
“That guy was crazy. Period.” Kitty shook her head remembering the soldier. “He was moving way too fast for me.”
“So the sneezing rescued you. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Something like that.”
“Oh, Kitty. When will you learn? You have to work ’em. Manage their expectations.”
“You’re better at that than I am.”
Madge patted her on the shoulder. “You’ll learn. Just watch me.”
Kitty laughed. “I’ve been watching you. It’s just that I’m not comfortable doing what you do.”
“Suit yourself.” Madge laughed along with her friend. “It’s your loss.”
They reached the heart of the village, the business district, if you wanted to call it that. A few small stores of various ages and architectural styles faced the main street. In the distance, the stone spire of a church marked the street’s end. Nothing appeared to have been built within the girls’ lifetime. “Quaint” was the word that came to Kitty’s mind.
Through the small paned windows of one shop, Kitty noticed an assortment of china. Curious, she pushed the door open and stepped inside. Madge followed reluctantly.
The shop reminded Kitty of the dry goods store run by her neighbors in Kerrville. It smelled of oiled wood floors and freshly dyed cloth. Near the door, an ancient mannequin stood clothed in a navy blue skirt and sweater. A few bolts of dull cloth lay on a display counter. Shelves on one wall held stacks of what appeared to be shoeboxes.
Near the back wall, a white-haired lady stood behind a counter, busy cutting black cloth, probably for black-out curtains. A middle-aged, dowdy-looking woman fingered through a rack of thread nearby.
“Just ’ave a look around. I’ll be with you shortly,” the clerk called.
Kitty wove her way between the crowded shelves to the corner near the window where an assortment of china wear provided a colorful, if compact, display. Assorted household goods occupied this portion of the shop, lampshades, a few pots, bed sheets, and linens.
She picked up a cup covered with tiny flowers and turned to Madge. “Isn’t this pretty?”
Kitty's War Page 7
