The ship steamed slowly in, and the decks were lined with men, on crutches, wearing bandages, and you could hear them shouting and screaming and whistling and see them wave long before the ship reached the dock. It was a scene she had seen often by then, and it always brought tears to her eyes. But this time, she stood watching them, straining her eyes, scouring the decks for him, but she doubted if he was in any condition to be standing up. From the sound of it he would be one of the men on stretchers lying flat on the deck. And she had already spoken to her supervisor about going on board.
“Anyone you know?” Usually, the volunteers waited for the men to be unloaded on the dock, but now and then they went on board to lend a hand. But the retired nurse in charge of the volunteers could see how anxious Kate was. With her dark red hair framing her face, she had never seen anyone as pale and still standing up.
“I… my… my fiancé is on board,” she said finally. It was too complicated to explain what he meant to her and where he had been for two years. It was easier to just tell her a diplomatic lie.
“How long has it been since you've seen him?” she asked Kate, as they watched the ship come in. She had already given Kate permission to go aboard.
“Twenty-one months.” And then she looked at the young woman with her enormous dark blue eyes. “We thought he was dead until three weeks ago.” The woman could only imagine what that must have been like for her. She had lived through her own private hell, she was a widow and had lost three sons.
“Where did they find him?” she asked, more to distract Kate. The poor girl looked like she was about to break in half.
“In Germany. In prison,” she said simply. The nurse could only guess at the kind of damage that had been done. “He was shot down on a bombing raid,” Kate still had no idea what kind of injuries he'd had. She was just grateful he was alive.
It took them over an hour to berth the ship, and then one by one the men came down the gangways to land. People were cheering and crying and there were countless tearful scenes being played out on the dock. But this time, Kate wasn't crying for them, she was crying for Joe, as tears streamed down her cheeks as she watched. It was another two hours before she could get on the ship. They were ready to unload the stretcher cases by then, and she went up with a group of orderlies who were going up to take them off. She had to fight to control herself, and not shove her way past them, and she had no idea where to find him on the huge ship. She saw quickly that the orderlies on the ship and the crew were bringing out men on litters and laying them on the upper deck. And she carefully threaded her way amongst wounded and dying men. There was the stench of sick and sweating bodies heavy in the air, and she had to struggle not to gag.
Some of them reached out to her, tried to grab her hands, and touch her legs. And she had to stop every few feet to talk to them. No matter what she felt, she couldn't just walk by. She had been walking a cautious path among them, careful not to step on anyone, and she stopped for what must have been the hundredth time when a man with no legs reached up and took her hand. He had lost half his face, and she could see from the way he turned his head, that his remaining eye was blind. He just wanted to talk to her and tell her how glad he was to be home, and she could tell from his accent that he was from the Deep South. She was still bending down talking to him, when a hand behind her gently touched her arm. She finished talking to the southern man, and then turned to see what she could do for the man who had touched her arm, and he was lying there, looking up at her with a broad smile. His face was thin and pale, and there were small scars from beatings he had sustained from the Germans, but in spite of that she knew who he was. She fell to her knees next to him, and he sat up and took her in his arms. There were tears rolling down his cheeks, as they mingled with hers. It was Joe.
“Oh my God…” It was all she could say.
“Hello, Kate,” he said quietly in a shaking but nonetheless familiar voice. “I told you I had a hundred lives.” She was crying so hard she couldn't talk to him, and he gently wiped the tears from her face with a roughened hand. He had lost an incredible amount of weight, and she could see as she sat back and looked at him that both his legs were in casts, they had reset them in Germany, but the doctors weren't sure yet if he would walk again. His captors had broken them during interrogations and shot him in both legs when he tried to escape. He had hung on to the merest thread of life, and he had come back to her. Kate couldn't even imagine the condition he'd been in, it was hard to believe that it could have been worse than what she saw now, but she knew that it had.
“I never thought I'd see you again,” he said softly, as the orderlies carried his stretcher off the ship, and Kate walked beside him, holding his hand, as he used the other one to wipe his eyes.
“Neither did I,” she said, as her supervisor spotted them, she had been crying silently as she watched them reach the dock. It was a scene they had all seen now a thousand times, but this one touched her particularly because she liked Kate so much. Someone deserved to win in all this, she told herself. There had been enough tragedy in the past four years.
“I see you got your guy. Welcome home, son,” the woman said, and patted his arm. He had a death grip on Kate's hand. “Do you want to ride in the ambulance with him, Kate?” They were sending him to a VA hospital just outside of Boston, and it would be an easy commute for her to visit him. The tides of fortune had finally turned. And Kate knew that, whatever else happened to them, she would be grateful forever for the gift of Joe's life.
She got in the ambulance, and sat on the floor next to him. She had brought a bar of chocolate for him in her purse and she handed it to him as the ambulance pulled out. There were three other men riding with them, and she divided up another bar of chocolate among the three of them, and one of them started to cry.
They had all been in Germany, two of them had been in prisoner of war camps, and the fourth man had been caught trying to escape into Switzerland. He had been tortured for four months and then left to die. They had all gotten nightmarish treatment while in German hands, but in each case, civilians had saved their lives, except for Joe, who had been hidden by a farmer at first, but then had simply hung on to life while in prison, until he was found.
“Are you okay?” Joe was looking her over like a mother hen. He had never seen a sight as beautiful as her hair and her skin and her eyes, and the other three men riding with them couldn't take their eyes off her. They just lay on their litters and stared at her, while Joe held her hand.
“I'm fine. I always thought you were alive,” she said in a whisper as she sat close to him. “I just knew you weren't dead, in spite of what everyone said.”
“You're not married or anything, I hope,” he laughed and she shook her head. But if he had taken much longer, it might have been a close call. “Did you finish school?” He wanted to know everything. He had thought of her a million times, and fell asleep thinking of her at night, and wondering if he'd ever see her again. For her sake, and his own, he had refused to die.
“I graduated in June,” she filled him in, but after all this time, there was too much to say. There were eighteen months to fill in, and it would take time. “I'm working for the Red Cross as a volunteer.”
“No kidding,” he laughed through painfully cracked lips that she had already kissed several times, and he knew with utter certainty that there was nothing in life as sweet. “I thought you were just a friendly nurse.” He couldn't believe it when he saw her standing next to him on the ship. He hadn't even been able to contact her before they sailed. And it was fortunate that they had shipped him to Boston and not New York. At least here she could visit him every day.
She stayed with him while they settled him in the hospital, but after that she had to ride back to the dock with the ambulance and finish work.
“I'll come back tonight,” she promised him. And by the time she got back to her parents' house after work, and borrowed their car, it was after six o'clock. It was nearly seven when she g
ot to him, all clean and neatly tucked into clean sheets by then, he was sound asleep. She sat next to him, without disturbing him, and she was surprised when, two hours later, he stirred. He turned, grimacing painfully, and then sensed her watching him, and opened his eyes.
“Am I dreaming? Or am I in Heaven?” he said with a sleepy smile. “That can't be you sitting there, Kate…. I never did anything in my life to deserve this.”
“Yes, you did.” She gently kissed his cheeks and then his lips. “I'm the lucky one. My mother was afraid I'd be an old maid.”
“I figured you'd have married that kid Andy by now, the one you always said was just a friend. Guys like that always wind up with the girl when the hero dies.”
“Guess not,” she said cryptically, “the hero didn't die.”
“No,” Joe said, rolling on his back with a sigh. His legs were encased in heavy plaster casts. “I never thought I'd get out of that prison again. I was sure they were going to kill me every day. I guess they were having too much fun to let me die.” They had tortured him mercilessly. She couldn't even imagine eighteen months in the hell he had known, or how he had survived, but thank God he had.
She stayed with him until after ten o'clock, and then finally went home, more because she could see how tired he was than because she wanted to leave. And they were going to give him medication for the pain in his legs. He was dozing off again when she left, and she stood for a minute, looking at the strong, distinct face that she had dreamed of a million times.
And when she got home, her father was waiting up for her.
“How is he, Kate?” he asked, looking concerned. He'd still been at the office when she came to pick up the car.
“He's alive,” she beamed, “and in surprisingly good shape. His legs are in casts, and his face is a mess.” He'd had hair to his waist when they fished him out, but they had cut it at the hospital in Germany. Joe said he had looked a lot worse then. “It's really a miracle he's with us, Dad.” He smiled at the look on his daughter's face. It had been years since he'd seen her smile like that. It warmed his heart to see her happy again.
“He'll be flying again in no time, if I know him.” Clarke smiled.
“I'm afraid you may be right.” They still had to see about his legs, and maybe operate again, and there was a chance he would have a limp. But there were far worse fates. He had come back from the dead, and whatever was left of him would be enough for her.
Her father looked serious for a moment then. “Andy called when you were out. What are you going to say to him, Kate?”
“Nothing till he gets back.” She had been thinking about it on the way home, and felt badly for him. It was just blind luck, and she hoped he would understand. “I'll tell him the truth,” she said honestly. “As soon as I tell him Joe is back, he'll know. I'm not sure I could ever have married him, Dad. He knew I was still in love with Joe.
“So did your mother and I. We hoped you'd get over it, for your sake, if he was gone. We didn't want you to pine for him for the rest of your life. Will you two be getting married now?” he asked. It seemed pretty obvious to him that they would, after all they'd been through. It was clear to him at least that they were bound together for life.
“We didn't talk about it. He's still pretty sick, Dad. I don't think it's a big issue at the moment.”
When Clarke Jamison went to visit Joe the next day, he could see why not. He was shocked at how terrible he looked, it was worse than he'd imagined. Kate had seen so many wounded men by then that it hadn't startled her as much as it might have otherwise. She had actually expected him to look worse than he did.
Joe was thrilled to see him, and they talked for a long time. Clarke didn't ask him about his experience in Germany, he thought it was best not to talk about it, but eventually Joe told him what it had been like, and about getting shot down. It was an incredible story, but Joe was in amazingly good spirits in spite of it. And his eyes lit up when he saw Kate. She had come to visit him while her father was still there. He left them to each other a few minutes after that, and Kate inquired about his legs. The doctors had examined him, and thought that things looked hopeful. They'd done a good job in Germany of setting his legs.
For the next month, Kate visited him every evening after work, she sat with him every weekend, and rolled him into the garden in his wheelchair. He called her the angel of mercy. And when no one was looking, they kissed and held hands. By the time he'd been home for two weeks, he was threatening to leave the hospital and take her to a hotel, and she laughed at him.
“You wouldn't get very far with those on,” she pointed at his casts. But she was as anxious to get her hands on him as he was on her. They had to content themselves with clandestine kisses for the time being. He wasn't well enough to go anywhere, but with each day he was better able to move his legs, in spite of the casts. And when they took them off four weeks after he arrived, much to everyone's amazement, he started walking. He could only take a few steps at first, and he was on crutches, but the prognosis was very good.
Both her parents had come to see him by then, and her mother had brought him books and flowers. She was very pleasant to him, but the day after their visit, she cornered Kate in the kitchen, with an earnest look in her eyes.
“Have you and Joe talked about getting married yet?” she asked pointedly, as Kate sighed in irritation.
“Mom, have you seen the condition he's in? Why don't we get him on his feet first?”
“You cried over him for two years, Kate. And you've known him for nearly five. Is there some reason you two aren't making plans, or is there something I don't know here? Is he married?”
“Of course he's not. He's not going anywhere. I just don't think it's important. He's alive, that's all I wanted, Mom.”
“That's abnormal. And what about Andy?” Kate sat down with a serious look in answer to her question.
“He's coming home this week, I'll tell him then.”
“Tell him what? There doesn't seem to be anything to tell him. Maybe you'd better give it some thought before you decide you can't see him anymore. Kate, mark my words, as soon as Joe is on his feet, he's not going to be heading down the aisle with you, he's going to be running for the nearest airstrip. All he did was talk about planes yesterday. He's a lot more excited about flying than about being with you. Maybe you'd better face that, before it's too late.”
“It's what he loves, Mom.” But her mother was right. He was already talking constantly about flying. He was dying to get in an airplane, almost as much as he wanted to go to bed with her, but she couldn't say that to her mother.
“How much does he love you, Kate? I think that's a far more relevant question.”
“Can't he love both? Does he have to make a choice?”
“I don't know, Kate. Can he love both? I'm not sure he can. One may be exclusive of the other.”
“That's crazy. I don't expect him to give up flying. It's his life. It always has been.”
“He's nearly thirty-five years old, and he's just spent two years damn near dead. If he's going to settle down and get married, and have a family, I'd say this would be a good time.” Kate didn't disagree with her, but she didn't want to pressure him. They hadn't talked about it yet. Kate just assumed it would happen eventually. She wasn't worried about it. She might as well have been married to him anyway, they were totally devoted to each other. He had no interest whatsoever in other women, just in airplanes.
Andy came to the house to see Kate the day he got home. He had just gotten off the train from Chicago, after spending the last weeks of his vacation in San Francisco. He was a little disappointed that she hadn't met him at the train, but he also knew how hard she was working. It was a hot day, and she looked thoroughly wilted when she got home. They had unloaded two ships that day. Andy looked thrilled to see her, far more than she did him. He knew instantly that something had happened while he was gone.
“Are you okay?” he asked when her parents left them alone. Her
mother went upstairs to her dressing room, and she cried when she thought of what Kate was going to say. She knew it was going to crush him, but Liz knew that Kate had to be honest with him. And she was of no use to any man now, except Joe. She adored him.
“I'm fine, just tired,” she said, brushing her hair back. He had tried to kiss her when her parents left the room, and she seemed uncomfortable and awkward with him. She knew she couldn't wait any longer. “No, I guess, I'm not fine… or I am… but we're not.”
“What does all that mean?” He looked worried, and he already sensed some of what was coming. But she knew that the news that Joe was alive, and home again, was going to stun him, almost as much as it had her.
She turned to face him bravely then, she hated hurting him. But she had no choice. Fate had dealt them a tough hand, and Joe an extremely good one. It obviously wasn't meant to be for her to be with Andy. They both had to accept that. But it would be easier for her to accept than for him. All her dreams had just come true, and Andy's were about to end. And as he looked at her, he knew, even before he heard the words.
“What exactly happened while I was gone, Kate?” His voice sounded strangled as he asked.
“Joe came home,” she said simply. That said it all for him. It was over between them. He had no illusions about what she felt for him.
“He's alive? How did he manage that? Was he in a prisoner of war camp?” It seemed impossible that the War Office had thought he was dead for nearly two years, and now he was back.
“He was in prison, under a false name, and he escaped and was caught again. They never knew who he was. It's a miracle that he's alive, although he's pretty badly wounded.” All Andy could see in her eyes was what she felt for Joe. There was nothing for him.
Lone Eagle Page 18
