Kitty's War

by Barbara Whitaker

  Too soon he was gone. She’d agreed to meet him—in Norwich.

  She raked the remaining coins into her bag, opened the booth’s door, and stepped out into the lobby. An old man sat near the window reading a newspaper. The clerk returned to the counter from the back room. All so normal, so calm.

  She checked her watch. She should be able to see Milton again today, if she hurried. Afterward she’d go to the train station and check on Norwich. She’d lost all sense of direction on the flight here. She thought she must be on the south coast of England. Norwich was north and east of London, beyond Ellingham. But close enough that she could get back to headquarters in a short time.

  Her mind raced as her feet hurried toward the hospital. She had to find out for sure when they would move Milton to the other hospital.

  Should she tell Milton where she was going? Would it worry him? Or would he approve? She wasn’t sure. He liked Ted, but he’d warned her not to get involved with him.

  ****

  By the time she reached his floor, she had made her decision. She would not tell Milton that she was going to meet Ted. No need to worry him. Let him believe everything was just fine. She could take care of herself.

  She’d already convinced Milton she had General Lake under control. All he wanted was a little female attention, some mothering from a sweet, young thing. She’d managed to avoid any physical contact beyond a pat on the shoulder or a fatherly hug. She could play the game, too. The plane ride here proved she could get what she wanted out of the old bag without compromising her principles. With luck he wouldn’t demand more when she returned.

  She steeled herself against the onslaught of sights and sounds and terrible smells that emanated from the wards and went in search of her brother or what was left of him.

  Milton sat in a day room down the hall from his ward. From the wheel chair, he stared into nothingness, ignoring the activity around him.

  Kitty touched his hand. He flinched.

  “It’s me,” she assured him.

  He wore a thick cotton robe, half on and half draped over his left side and arm, still encased in a cast. They’d removed the IV tube from his arm. Bandages still covered most of his head.

  She grabbed a chair and placed it to one side, the good side, so he could see her without moving his head.

  “Glad to see you out of that bed.” She tried to sound cheerful.

  He didn’t reply, but she could tell from his face he heard her and knew who she was.

  “I’ve been doing some sketching.” She held up the unfinished street scene. “Remember when I would draw and you would critique them?”

  His lips curved up slightly.

  “They weren’t very good, but you’d encourage me anyway.”

  “Good,” he murmured. “Always good.”

  “I kept at it out of pure stubbornness.” She smiled and put the sketch pad down. “Keeps me busy, out of trouble.”

  “You don’t run and hide anymore.” It wasn’t a question. It was an observation.

  She shook her head and smiled. “Can’t run away in the Army.”

  “You’ve grown up.” His weak, hoarse voice conveyed a sense of pride.

  “I guess.” She reached out and gently touched his good hand. He turned it over, and his fingers wrapped around hers. Her throat tightened. She fought to contain herself.

  He closed his eye, his head leaned back against the high back of the chair. He looked so weak, so fragile. Her strong, muscular brother reduced to a broken man, struggling to survive.

  “Can’t take care of you anymore.” His simple declaration broke her heart.

  “You have to take care of yourself right now.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”

  Should she tell him about Ted? That she was going to meet him? How much she wanted to see him? How she felt about him?

  Her free hand drew into a fist. No, she’d made that decision, and she’d stick to it.

  Milton didn’t need to worry about her getting her heart broken. He’d warned her of the danger. Wait till the war’s over to fall in love. Do the smart thing and wait.

  Her heart hadn’t waited. She hadn’t expected it. Tried to stop it. Now she wanted to grab hold and never let go.

  ****

  Instead of going back to his quarters, Ted strode toward the little shack where the weather officer worked. They’d scrubbed the day’s mission due to weather. He’d only halfway listened to the rest of the report, but he vaguely remembered that there was a front coming through that could ground them for a week.

  He hoped so. Bad weather meant he had a good chance of getting a few days off. A pass to Norwich—to meet Kitty.

  Her pain had come through the telephone and twisted his heart. His own sorrow had escaped the tight bounds where he struggled to keep it secure and had threatened to break him. He’d desperately wanted to reach across the miles and comfort her the way he needed comfort. So he’d done the next best thing. He’d asked her to come to him. And through some miracle she had agreed.

  The weather officer verified that they would be grounded for a week, maybe ten days. A slow-moving front had blown in off the Atlantic, would hover over England and the continent for an unknown period of time. Not as bad as the storms back in June, but bad enough.

  Ted went directly to his commanding officer and easily obtained a pass to Norwich. Then he called the Cumberland and reserved rooms.

  Kitty never left his mind. Alone, facing her brother’s devastating injuries, she had reached out to him. He’d honor her fragile state, he promised himself, even as he yearned to hold her, to make love to her.

  A glimmer of hope glowed deep inside…that she cared for him, that she wanted him to live so they could be together. Ever since his buddies had died, he’d believed the only people who really knew him, who really cared about him, were dead. Did Kitty’s call mean that had changed?

  Dear God, could this sweet angel save him—again?

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Dear Father and Mother,

  Milton has been wounded. I saw him in the hospital, and he’s…

  ****

  On a crowded train wasn’t the best place to write a letter, though she needed to tell her parents about Milton. She tucked it in her pocket and promised herself she’d finish it later, when she could focus. She didn’t want to say too much. Maybe he didn’t want them to know how bad it was, not yet anyway. Maybe he needed time to get himself together so he could tell them himself.

  She wished she’d asked him what to do. No. He was in no shape to think about it. She had to make her own decisions, use her own judgment.

  She’d start it again, tomorrow or when she returned to base.

  The older man sitting beside her rose when the train stopped. He pushed his way out of the small compartment. She scooted over to sit by the window and barely noticed when someone else sat down.

  “You must be American,” the young woman commented.

  Kitty turned to face her new traveling companion. “Yes, I am.”

  “I went out with a Yank, several as a matter of fact, before the invasion, that is.”

  The girl reminded Kitty of Betty, Milton’s date that long-ago night in London.

  “These days there aren’t so many left. All of ’em’s gone over to France.”

  “What about the Air Force? They’re still here.”

  “Oh, I don’t go out with those fly boys. They’s too wild. My friend went out with one, and they got into a fight in a pub. All of ’em got arrested, they did. My friend included. She swore off them fly boys and warned me off ’em, too.”

  Kitty laughed. “They’re not all that bad.”

  “I went with a Yank sailor once. He was nice. Then his friend told off on him, said he had a wife and kid back home.” The girl shook her head. “Gotta watch ’em.”

  “Yes, you do.” Kitty wondered about Ted. She’d never thought about him having someone back in the states. He wasn’t the type t
o settle down for long. The thought worried her. Would he settle down with her, or was she just another in a string of girls?

  Did she want him to settle down with her? She’d called him because she was upset. She wanted someone to share her grief, her fears, her concerns. Or did she want more?

  Kitty got off the train. She’d been told she’d have to change trains in London, but the station looked different from a few months earlier. When she reached the crowded main lobby, she realized that it must be a different station. She walked around looking for an information booth or someone who could tell her where to wait for her train.

  “You look like you could use some help.”

  Kitty looked up into the friendly face. Tall, dark hair and eyes, a nice smile, and a lieutenant in the USAF.

  “I am having a little trouble finding my way. Is there an information booth around somewhere?”

  “Tennessee. That’s where you’re from.”

  “What?”

  “Your accent. I make a study of them. I’m right aren’t I?”

  Kitty nodded, a little confused.

  “Batting a thousand,” he bragged. “Stan Applewaite.” He offered his hand.

  Kitty took it a little reluctantly. “Sergeant Greenlee.” Something wasn’t right. Alarms sounded in her innermost being. Why? He seemed okay. Polite. But something was off, maybe the way he looked at her.

  “Let me take your bag.” He reached for her case, and she instinctively pulled back.

  “No. Uh…no, thank you. I can carry it.” She glanced around to get her bearings.

  He put his hand on her shoulder. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m looking for someone.” The lie came almost automatically.

  “I see.” He dropped his hand and looked around. “What does he look like?”

  Kitty spotted a sign that said “Ladies” and an idea hit her. “I’d better go find my friend.” She took a few steps toward the sign. He followed.

  “I didn’t see anyone get off the train with you.” His smug expression said he was pretty sure she was lying.

  “Oh, she didn’t. She’s meeting me here.” Kitty continued to walk toward the ladies’ room.

  “I’ll just wait until you come out.” He smiled at her as if he knew her game.

  Something snapped inside her. She drew a determined breath and turned to face him. “I suggest that you get lost, sir.”

  He hadn’t expected her fiery anger. But instead of backing off, he stepped closer, like a predator closing in on his prey.

  “You’re bluffing.” His smug smile returned.

  She glanced around, desperate to escape this man. A woman dressed in the gray-green tweed of the Women’s Volunteer Army came out of the Ladies’ Room.

  “There you are,” Kitty exclaimed as she practically ran to the woman. “I was afraid I’d missed you.”

  Before she could reply, Kitty threw her free arm around the stranger’s shoulder and gave her a hug. “Help me,” Kitty whispered.

  “Not a chance, sweetie.” The woman smiled and returned her hug. Then she turned to another gray-green clad woman behind her. “And Mattie’s come, too.”

  Kitty smiled and nodded at the new face, fully aware the lieutenant was watching. “Good to see you again, Mattie.”

  The other woman nodded, looking a little confused, as her friend continued the ruse. “Mum’ll be so glad to meet you. I’ve told her so much.”

  “I’m anxious to meet her, too.” Kitty relaxed a little knowing the English women understood her predicament.

  Lieutenant Applewate cleared his throat to get their attention.

  “Who’s your friend?” Mattie eyed the American officer with interest.

  “Oh, the lieutenant was just going to help me.” She shot him a stern glance. “But that won’t be necessary, now that I’ve found you.”

  “Come on, Mattie.” Kitty’s new friend took charge. “We’ve got to get going. Mum’s waiting.” She slipped her arm around Kitty’s waist and steered her away from the unhappy officer.

  As they walked away, Kitty could feel his stare. After turning a corner, she glanced back to make sure he wasn’t following them.

  “Thank you so much,” she told her new friend. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “That was quick thinking,” she replied. “By the way, I’m Gwen.”

  “Kitty.” She looked back again, still fearing he would follow them.

  “I’ve seen his type before,” Gwen offered. “Trolling around for some unsuspecting woman who’s all alone. No telling what he had in mind.”

  “Nothing good, I’m sure.”

  They were approaching the train platforms.

  “Now I have to find the train to Norwich.”

  “That’s where we’re going,” Mattie spoke up. “At least in that direction. You can sit with us.”

  Relief washed over her. She blinked back tears that suddenly filled her eyes. “Oh, that would be wonderful.”

  Sitting in the small compartment with her new English friends, she thought of Madge. How her fellow WAC had coaxed her to be more friendly to men, to talk to strangers, to make friends no matter where she was. Madge had pulled her out of her shell when everything and everyone frightened her. Yet Madge always warned her to trust her gut about people. It confused Kitty at first, but with Madge’s persistent tutoring, she’d apparently learned more that she realized.

  She had no idea what the lieutenant had been up to, but her sense that something wasn’t right had served her well.

  She wondered what Madge would think. She missed her friend, missed their talks, her teasing, her advice. How had a man come between them?

  ****

  At Norwich Kitty made her way to the hotel Ted told her about. To her pleasant surprise he had a room reserved for her.

  “Has anyone been here asking for me?” she asked the clerk.

  “No, ma’am.” The clerk shook her head.

  Kitty sighed and picked up her bag. He might not be able to come, she warned herself. She’d go up and rest, then find a place to eat. And then what? Sit alone and wait. The prospect chilled her.

  Had she done the right thing—coming here? How would Ted interpret it? Would he think she was pursuing him? Would he comfort her? Or would he take advantage of her like the officer in the train station? No. Ted wasn’t like that. He was her friend. And she hoped, someday, he would be more than a friend.

  She’d climbed about a third of the way up the stairway when she heard the door open. She turned to look.

  “Kitty!” Ted called.

  She practically jumped down the stairs and into his arms.

  He squeezed her tight, and she reveled in the feeling of being held in strong male arms. Safe and secure, with someone who cared.

  Too soon, he pulled away.

  “I must have missed you at the station.” His boyish grin hinted at something mischievous. “Thought I’d be smart and surprise you. But you got by me somehow.”

  “I didn’t expect you.” She looked into his blue eyes, the eyes she vowed to never forget. “You said to wait for you here, so that’s what I was going to do.”

  “Good girl.” He pulled himself from her embrace. “Just let me check in, then we’ll go find a place to eat and talk.”

  She watched him as he gave the clerk his name. He’d reserved a separate room. That must mean he didn’t expect any more than a friendly visit. Or maybe it meant he wasn’t going to push her for more, which was good since she wasn’t sure what she wanted from him. For now she was just so happy to see his friendly face.

  ****

  “Tell me about Milton,” he asked as gently as he could. They’d successfully avoided the subject all through dinner even though it hung there right beneath the surface silently waiting.

  Kitty sighed. She looked down to her hands held tightly in her lap. Sadness weighed on her face.

  He thought she wasn’t going to answer until he saw her draw a deep breath. Her watery eyes
met his.

  “He’s hurt, so bad.” She looked down again, as if trying to gather the words. “There was some kind of explosion.” She met his gaze. “Artillery, probably. That’s what the nurse said.” She raised her left hand to the side of her head. “He’s lost…” Her voice caught.

  “His eye. You said that on the phone.”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “And his head was all bandaged. Fractured skull, lacerations.” She hurried to get it out. “And his left shoulder and arm. They’re badly damaged.”

  She closed her eyes, and he wondered if she were imagining what Milton looked like. She drew another deep breath, looked up at Ted, and continued. “He didn’t lose his arm, but he can’t use it. They said something about multiple breaks and nerve damage.”

  She reached across the table. He grasped her hand.

  “What if he loses his arm? The eye is bad enough, but his arm.” She blinked back tears.

  His chest tightened. Her pain pierced his heart. He had to say something, do something to help her. “He’s alive. His eye or his arm won’t matter.” He kept his voice strong and steady. Right now that was what she needed, someone to lean on.

  “Would it matter to you?”

  The question hit him like a slap in the face. He squeezed her hand rather than letting go of it as he wanted to. It was his left hand. A hand and arm he didn’t want to do without. Much less an eye. Not wanting her to see how much the thought scared him, he hoped his voice didn’t shake with his answer. “I don’t know.” He met her questioning gaze. “It probably would. Of course, it would. No one wants to have his body shot up. To lose limbs.”

  Impulsively he got up, went around, and slid into the booth beside her. His arm encircled her shoulders, and she leaned into him. Her body felt so good pressed against him. So right. He wanted to hold her, comfort her, take her pain away.

  “Milton will be all right. Just give him time. You saw him at his worst, his weakest.”

  “He could barely talk. And he would look away, off into nothingness.”

  “He needs to rest, to recover. After what he went through, you can’t expect him to be the same guy he was in London.” An image flashed in his mind of Milton’s astonishment when Ted donned his sergeant’s uniform. Not many would have gone along with Ted’s antics.