Wives of War

by Soraya M. Lane

  ‘Go find your man,’ Lucy ordered, turning back to the soldier on the bed, leaning low and whispering words that Scarlet couldn’t hear.

  Scarlet left her to finish her work and started to scan the beds. It was her worst nightmare to think that she’d missed him, that he could have been taken away after surgery before she’d had the chance to say goodbye. Seeing the soldiers go, once upon a time, had made her think they would be safe, that they were going to make it home safe and be looked after, that they were the lucky ones to get away. Now she knew better.

  Those lucky ones often ended up dead or more badly injured before they got to their transportation. She swallowed a lump in her throat. So why, when she knew the reality of what happened every single day, had she been so certain that James had been safe?

  She surveyed more beds, started to look more frantically, wondering where he’d gone, and then her eyes landed on a mop of dark, almost black hair. Her heartbeat slowed from its rapid pounding as she moved towards him, relief hitting her hard.

  Within moments she was by his side, taking in the steady rise and fall of his chest, the bandaging that she could see under his cut uniform. It hit her how close he’d been to dying, and the thought that she might never have seen him again hurt her more than she wanted to admit.

  ‘Hi,’ she whispered when his eyes opened, carefully, like he was cautious of what he was going to see.

  When he groaned, loudly, she realised it was probably more to do with the pain he was feeling than not wanting to see what was above him.

  ‘Don’t speak,’ she whispered, taking his hand and stroking his skin lightly with her fingertips. ‘I wanted to check on you, in case they took you without my knowing.’ She smiled when his lips parted, the upward tilt of his mouth telling her he was happy to see her. ‘My shift is only finishing now, it’s been a long day, and I thought I’d come looking for you and then I thought you’d gone.’

  ‘I’m . . .’ He hissed out a breath; she hated seeing him in pain.

  ‘Let me get you water,’ she said, reaching for the cup so she could soothe his cracked, dry lips. She turned back and dripped a little into his mouth, more when he swallowed it down.

  ‘Thank you,’ he muttered, looking better for having had something to drink.

  ‘Your surgery must have gone well. You look good,’ she said.

  ‘Liar.’ He chuckled, cringing when his body moved with the laughter. ‘I look like . . .’ He pushed up a little and she helped him, the blood soaking through his bandage too much for her liking. She bit her tongue instead of saying anything.

  ‘Hell,’ he finally said. ‘Turns out bullets hurt a whole lot more than I thought they would.’

  Scarlet didn’t know if it was from exhaustion, hunger or both, but she burst into tears. Not the silent, quiet type of tears that slowly ran down her cheeks like they usually would if she cried, but a gasp of tears that made a choking noise sound out in her throat and a torrent of unshed emotion shudder from her. She tried to stop, tried to swallow it all away, but the more she cried, the harder it was to stem.

  ‘Scarlet.’

  She heard James say her name as she fought and lost the battle she was waging with herself.

  ‘Sweetheart, is it me you’re worried about? Because I’m tough. A bullet or two won’t keep me down.’

  She tried to laugh at him, but it came out as more of a snort and only made her want to cry more.

  ‘Unless you were hoping I’d be dead?’

  His voice was still weak and when he started to cough she wiped frantically at her face with the heels of her hands, then used her sleeve. She was being silly, and it certainly wasn’t like her to be so overly emotional.

  ‘Don’t you ever say that,’ she said, looking around, surprised she hadn’t been reprimanded or called to attend anything. She was crying because she was supposed to be looking for one brother, and instead her thoughts were consumed with the one in front of her. It wasn’t right, but no matter what she tried to tell herself, nothing could change the way she felt.

  ‘I’m worried about you,’ he said quietly, his fingers moving against hers when she touched him, threading her fingers so they were lying in between each of his on his right hand.

  ‘Don’t be,’ she insisted, trying to focus on each inhale of air, slowly letting each breath go. ‘We don’t get a lot to eat and the days are long, that’s all. I’m so tired and beyond hungry.’

  He grunted. ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘But don’t for a moment think I’m not happy that you pulled through. My greatest fear is losing you, too.’

  She cringed. They’d circled straight back around to Thomas again even though she’d been doing everything she could to avoid thinking about the news James had shared. Why had she had to say that, that she was scared of losing him, too? Maybe it was the world’s way of reminding her that she was already supposed to be worried about another man, a man that wasn’t James.

  ‘Any chance you’ll be heading home soon?’ he asked, his voice low but not quite as strained as it had been before.

  ‘No.’ She sighed, giving herself permission to look into his eyes. ‘I doubt that very, very much.’ Some days she wondered if the war would ever end or they’d ever get the chance to go home. Maybe home wasn’t even going to be there; it could be bombed and flattened for all she knew.

  ‘It’d be nice to have you coming home with me,’ James said, mouth curling up into a mischievous smile. ‘I could do with a private nurse.’

  ‘Joking like that makes me doubt you’re even that badly injured!’ Scarlet said with a laugh, hands on her hips. But the movement sent her off balance, made her dizzy. She reached for the bed and steadied herself.

  ‘Scarlet?’ All teasing was gone from James’s voice, but she flapped her hands at him when he tried to haul himself up, not wanting him to do further damage.

  ‘No,’ she managed, slowing her breathing, doing what she could to stop the room from spinning.

  ‘Damn,’ James swore, lowering back down.

  ‘We’re both in a bad way.’ Scarlet held on to his hand again and he stared back at her. ‘I’m not sure which one of us is in the worse state.’

  ‘You need to get something to eat,’ James told her. ‘Then you need to sleep.’

  ‘It’s not as easy as just finding something to eat,’ she said, grimacing. If only it were that simple. ‘But yes, you’re right.’

  ‘Is there food for the patients?’ he asked.

  Scarlet nodded. ‘Of course. I can get something for you. We need to keep up your strength and I can even mash it with a fork for you if you need.’

  He chuckled. ‘Scarlet, you’re not mashing my food for me.’

  She shrugged. ‘I do it for half the other soldiers. It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Go get food, tell them it’s for me, and you can have it. I won’t get an ounce of rest tonight if I’m worrying about you.’

  ‘I can’t do that. It’s forbidden.’

  ‘What are they going to do? Fire you? Send you home?’ He shook his head. ‘I doubt that very much.’

  ‘Rules are rules.’ She thought he’d have been a stickler for them, given his position in the army. But then plenty of men and women were doing things they’d never have considered before.

  ‘Go get the food. You can bend low over me, share some with me, and no one will know if you’re taking mouthfuls or bending to spoon something into me.’

  Scarlet sighed. He was right. She did need sustenance. It wasn’t her fault that she’d had to work all day and night without a break, without so much as a spoonful of food to see her through. She had eggs still to cook from the day before, but she hadn’t even had a chance to take them from her jacket pocket.

  ‘Why do you have to be so . . .’ She blew out a deep, long breath. ‘Lovely.’

  ‘Lovely?’ He laughed. ‘Is that supposed to be a bad thing? Because if you were trying to offend me, you’re failing.’

  ‘Caring,’ she said.
‘I don’t know. I just wish you weren’t so nice. It’d make this whole thing easier.’

  ‘Why?’

  She stared at him, ran her fingers over his hand, feeling less guilty now. Maybe she was so overtired that she didn’t care, or maybe after everything she’d been through she’d simply stopped judging herself so harshly or by such high standards.

  ‘Because then it would be so much easier not to like you,’ she told him honestly. ‘I’ve tried so hard. I don’t want to like you, but I do.’

  ‘Go get the food,’ he said. But Scarlet didn’t miss his smile, the way he relaxed back into the bed, eyes still holding her gaze.

  He liked her, too. He didn’t need to say it. Every look, every touch, every minute they spent together told her everything she needed to know. One day she could go back to worrying, but as long as she kept looking for Thomas and didn’t give up her search, she could live with herself.

  ‘I’ll go get that food then,’ Scarlet said. She looked around, noticed that the noise level had dropped to a low hum. She prayed that it would be a slow night, that soldiers wouldn’t be falling as fast as they had been during the day.

  She saw Lucy, smiled at her, raising her hand as she went in search of something she could share with James. For a girl who’d always played by the rules and stayed true to her promises, she was fast turning into someone she no longer recognised. Scarlet bit her lip, amused by her own thoughts. Maybe she even liked this new version of herself.

  ‘Nurse!’

  She cringed, her smile falling away as quickly as it had appeared. Please, Lord, not now. She should have staved off her hunger and stayed at James’s bedside. It would have been better than a doctor calling out to her and begging her to work.

  Scarlet kept her head down, kept walking, ignoring the call.

  ‘Scarlet!’

  This time, a heavy hand fell on her shoulder, gripping her, forcing her to stop. She spun around, angry, ready to tell the damn doctor to get his hands off her.

  ‘Don’t . . .’ The words died the moment she looked into Spencer’s face, his expression a mix of exhaustion and uncertainty. Heck, she’d have been scared of the look she’d given him. ‘I’m so sorry, I thought . . .’

  He ignored her words. ‘Scarlet, there’s been word. Confirmation of some British soldiers’ existence among the ones being cared for at one of the convents you asked me to enquire about.’

  Her heartbeat picked up speed, mouth dry as she stared at him. ‘Thomas?’

  ‘Look, all I know is that there are soldiers of ours there. They needed a doctor to attend and I’ve volunteered to go.’ He paused. ‘And I’ve asked to take my own nurse.’

  Scarlet gulped, swallowing what felt like a rock in her throat. She almost didn’t want it to be true, had started hoping that she was wrong, that she’d never find him. ‘Me?’

  ‘I’ve requested you. I made it clear that you can work fast and that I can trust you with any task.’ He placed a hand on her arm, and this time the touch comforted her instead of alarming her. ‘That is, if you want to go?’

  ‘Yes,’ she murmured, knowing she couldn’t falter now, even if she wanted to. ‘Yes,’ she said again, this time in a stronger voice. ‘I’ll go.’

  James was here. She was tending to one brother and now planning a possible rescue mission for another.

  ‘I don’t want to get your hopes up, this is a long shot, but there is a chance he’s there.’

  Scarlet nodded. ‘I’ll be ready.’ She needed the food more than ever now, light-headed from the news she’d just received as well as her growling stomach.

  ‘I haven’t told Ellie yet. I don’t want her to worry,’ Spencer said as she took a step back before turning. ‘I’ll tell her when we have confirmed plans.’

  ‘I understand.’ Scarlet had no intention of worrying Ellie unless it was absolutely necessary. ‘And thank you, Spencer. Thank you for caring.’

  ‘Ellie would never forgive me if I didn’t do everything I could to help you,’ he said. ‘Turns out I’ll do anything to make her happy.’

  ‘Even embark on a crazy trip to locate a handful of soldiers?’

  It sounded crazy, even to her.

  ‘Yes.’

  He smiled one last time before going back to his patients, and she walked quietly off. She needed to get back to James, and she needed to forget all about what Spencer had told her and enjoy her last hours or days with James before he was sent back home. If they found Thomas, it might be the last time she could hold his hand and look into his eyes without being unfaithful, before her heart was broken into a million pieces that she doubted could ever be placed back together. She’d almost convinced herself that Thomas was gone, that finding him was a fantasy that would never come true. Truth be told, she could barely remember how she felt about him, her memories of him hazy, starting to blur the more she tried to draw on them. Or maybe it was simply that all the old feelings had disappeared the moment she’d laid eyes upon James and felt alive like she’d never felt before.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Lucy

  ‘Check out the Yanks!’

  Lucy looked up when one of the nurses nearby whispered excitedly. She’d been dressing a wound and studying how well it had healed. When she looked up, she could see that she’d missed quite a commotion.

  Three American soldiers were standing inside the entrance to their tent hospital, talking to a doctor. He looked uptight and they appeared relaxed, one of them casually standing there with his hands in his pockets looking around. Lucy smiled, nervous but excited, too. She had been waiting for them to arrive, had known for days to expect them, which meant that today was the day she might find out exactly who her Patient X was.

  She wiped her hands on her apron and glanced at the man in question. He was sitting up, laughing about something to another nurse, but when he noticed her standing there he gave her a slow wink that made her heart fall to her toes and leap back up again. She had no idea how he managed to do it, but every glance or touch or smile from him sent her spiralling. She laughed to herself and turned her attention back to the soldiers. Gosh, her mother would be in fits if she could see the effect he had on her, after years of trying to convince her that one day, mark her words, a man would come along and knock her socks off. Well, one finally had, and her mother would love it. Only this one belonged to another, and the ache in her heart was only going to get worse.

  The doctor beckoned her and Lucy crossed over to them. The relaxed soldier who’d caught her eye originally was staring at her, smiling. He raised an eyebrow and let out a low whistle.

  ‘Why hello, lovely nurse,’ he said, making the other two turn to face her.

  Lucy’s cheeks flushed hot but she tried to appear unrattled. She wasn’t used to that type of attention. ‘Gentlemen,’ she said, addressing them in what she hoped was a strong voice when they all turned to look at her. ‘Sorry to interrupt. Are you here to see our American patients?’

  They nodded, and it was the same soldier who was still staring at her, his smile fixed in place, who responded. ‘We sure are.’

  ‘This is the nurse who has been caring for one of your men who’s been suffering memory lapses,’ the doctor said.

  ‘That’s right,’ confirmed Lucy. ‘Or more accurately, he can’t recall all that much from his past, his long-term memory I should say.’

  The soldier laughed. ‘I’ll bet he’s liking you taking care of him.’

  She gave a tight smile and motioned for him to follow her. ‘Would you like to come and see him?’ She made an attempt to bat her eyelashes, trying not to laugh at herself. ‘Please?’

  He shrugged and followed her, and she walked quickly. What she wanted was to have a moment alone with this soldier, to see if he knew anything, to find out everything she could about the man she had become so fond of, before the doctors came over and she was ushered out of the way. Or more likely ignored altogether. Real life was about to step in, and the flutter in her chest was telling
her exactly how badly the truth was going to hurt.

  ‘How long’s he been here?’

  ‘A couple of weeks,’ she said. ‘The ambulance coming in was hit and I was part of the, er, well, rescue team I suppose you’d call us.’

  ‘You helped rescue one of our boys?’ he asked, incredulous.

  She thought about that day constantly, second-guessed what she’d done and wondered how differently things could have turned out. ‘It was one of those moments,’ she said, not wanting to explain it all to him. ‘I only wish he could have told me more about who he was.’

  ‘Jack!’

  Lucy was interrupted by the soldier pushing past her, running to the patient she was taking him to.

  ‘Jack! We thought you were dead!’

  The soldier was shaking hands with her patient, then grabbed him by the shoulders and hugged him. She quickly intervened, touching his arm.

  ‘He’s still in recovery,’ she said, watching her patient’s face, wanting to see any recognition.

  ‘This, this . . . Oh wow,’ the soldier gasped. ‘This is Jack! Captain John Colton.’

  ‘Jack,’ she repeated, smiling down at him. His face was crumpled, half frown, half smile, and she watched as he silently mouthed the name. ‘At least we have a name.’

  ‘He’s been missing so long, we thought he was dead or taken.’ The soldier slapped him on the shoulder again and Lucy cringed. ‘Instead he’s been here in the lap of luxury with a beautiful nurse tending to him.’

  She didn’t mind the beautiful part, but she did want Jack to stop being manhandled. Men were like that, she knew, but still. It seemed that American men were a lot more physical than she was used to.

  ‘Jack,’ she started, feeling peculiar addressing him by an actual name after days of trying out every male name she could think of to see if it seemed to fit him or not, ‘had a photo in his pocket, something that was obviously important to him. We were certain it was a wife or sweetheart from back home, and we kept it safe for him.’