by Terri Meeker
She looked down as she walked and appeared lost inside her head—preoccupied. She moved sluggishly, not like the Lily he knew. When she turned to see Sam looking her way, however, she found a smile for him. Even her weary, forced smile transformed her entirely. God, she was beautiful when she smiled.
“Captain, I thought I might find you here. Well, I hoped I would.”
“I was tempted to go out dancing,” he said. “But I can’t find my dancing shoes anywhere. Do you know where they might be? You didn’t steal them, did you?”
She laughed. “How absolutely unlike you, Captain. No, I did not steal your shoes.”
Well, yes, he had to admit to himself, he was talking like a fool, but the sound of her laughter was very worth the cost. He’d happily play an idiot if he could chase that sad look from behind her eyes.
She settled herself on the chair at his bedside. “I thought you might be a little bored in here all by yourself. And I haven’t read your mail to you in such a long time.”
He wanted to say something charming. He’d even settle for saying something silly again, on the hopes of hearing that laugh. Words eluded him, however, and he stared stupidly at her.
“That is, if you need your mail read. I suppose the newer VADs have been keeping you up-to-date.” She glanced at his mail basket.
“Ah, yes. Th-that is to say, no,” Sam stammered. “I mean, they offered, but I wasn’t feeling up to it at the time.” Because he might be a fool, but he wasn’t so desperate as to tell her that he’d been waiting on the hopes that she’d come by.
“Oh, well if you’re not feeling like it, I should let you rest.” She twisted her hands together in a nervous gesture. Though the strange stiff air between them had dissipated a bit, they still hadn’t quite returned to their earlier, close relationship.
“Please, no,” he said. “I’m quite out of my mind with boredom. I’m about to begin conversing with ceiling tiles.” He’d felt a rush of pleasure at the sound of her laughter that he couldn’t help but try to coax more from her lips.
“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” She retrieved the basket and plucked out the three unopened letters on top. “Shall we begin with this one? From your mother, I think.”
Sam smiled and nodded.
Mother’s letter was filled with news from the farm and village. Which local boys had been injured and who had gone missing. In between the lines of gossip and details about various neighbors, Sam heard her worry for him.
Lily opened Bad’s letter next.
“Well, this is short,” Lily said.
Sam took a steadying breath. Though his brother’s letter might be brief, it held the potential to be quite damaging. Especially if Bad was indecorous enough to mention his opinions regarding Lily. Come to think of it, the thought of his brother talking about any females in general was terribly worrisome.
“‘Dear Old Man,’” Lily read, rolling her eyes at the salutation. “‘Don’t have much time, but I know what a worrying sort you are, and I wanted to put your mind at ease. I got back to my unit with no trouble. Well, to be honest, there was some trouble, but not the usual kind. I’ll have to tell you about it sometime.
“‘Did Evie tell you the latest? I’ve sent some money to the blacksmith along with some instructions I’ve drawn up for a trap for Lady P. It should be ready within the week. I predict that we’ll win this bloody war in another few weeks and we’ll all be back in the barn again by Christmas. We’ll have another toast in the barn with Lady P at our side where she belongs. Get well soon, Sam. Your brother, Baden.’”
Lily shook her head and blinked at Sam. “A trap? Is he…do you think he’s serious?”
“Quite serious.”
“A metal cage?” Lily wore a horrified expression.
“Well, it’s the next logical step, I suppose. Nothing else has worked.”
“It just seems so barbaric.”
“I suppose it might seem a bit confining to her after two years of freedom.”
“Confining?” Lily folded the letter and tucked it back into its envelope. “I’m sorry, Sam, but I feel your brother’s plan is extremely cruel. I can’t believe you’re so untroubled by his actions.”
“Baden is only trying to do what’s right.” Sam couldn’t fathom why she was so affronted. Perhaps it was a Canadian sensibility. Their proximity to so much wildlife gave them an affinity with farm animals.
“A cage is…what’s right?” Lily looked indignant.
“It’s his fault she’s been running wild all over the county for the past two years, after all.”
“Was he to blame?” Lily tilted her head toward him, her eyes questioning.
“Most certainly,” Sam said. “It happened the night we entered the war. Bad’s head was filled with plans for signing up and he wasn’t paying attention. He let her go that night and she…” Sam looked at Lily and faltered.
Her eyes had filled with tears and her expression damned near to weeping. Her extreme reaction to the antics of the family pig were becoming disturbing. Perhaps so much triage had simply pushed Lily too far.
“He let her go because he was going to war?” Her voice was choked with emotion. “How tragic for your brother. And doubly tragic for poor Lady P, to have her heart broken so.”
Sam realized her mistake in an instant and all became clear. No wonder she seemed so distressed whenever they discussed the pig. “Oh dear god. Lily, you do understand that Lady P isn’t actually a lady.”
“Perhaps not in deed, a lady. But a woman in pain, nonetheless.”
“Lady P is a sow.” He bit his lips, hard, trying to contain his laughter.
Her mouth formed an ‘O’ of surprise, disappointment writ large across her expression. “Your sister has been so charitable toward her. I’d hoped you shared her sympathies.”
He held his palms out to her, as he could control his laughter no longer. “No, please, Lily. You misunderstand. She’s truly a pig. Livestock.”
Lily stared at him, still gape-mouthed.
“She’s Evie’s pet. Lady P is short for Lady Precious—a five hundred pound sow.”
Lily covered her mouth with her hands, a pretty bright blush sweeping across her cheeks. When the sound of her laughter joined his, Sam felt better than he’d felt in years, since the whole bloody war began. Whatever barrier had grown between them was shattered by that musical sound.
“I can’t imagine what you thought of us,” he said once he was able to speak again.
Lily grinned at him. “And when Evie wrote of young men trying to ride her?” Somehow, impossibly, her blush deepened and she burst into a fresh round of giggles.
“I can’t wait to tell Evie,” Sam said once he stopped laughing.
“Oh, she’ll think me an idiot.” Lily shook her head.
“She’ll love you. She couldn’t help it.” He dropped his gaze. Who could help but love Lily?
She beamed a grin at him. “I believe I like your sister even better now. A pet pig? I always pictured her sewing samplers and taking tea.”
“Not for Evie. She’s terribly handy with a rifle and, as you can tell, she fosters unhealthy fondness for farm animals. She is quite her own person. A lot like you, I suspect.”
“She seems delightful.”
“You’d get along like a house afire, I’m sure.” He couldn’t help but smile at the thought.
She tucked a stray strand of hair inside her cap. “I wasn’t around other girls often growing up, so whenever I ran across one, I tended to frighten them off. I don’t think Evie would scare easily.”
A door slammed. Rose led a contingent of patients, fresh from their performance in the back yard.
“I suppose I should help them settle the lads back into their beds.” Lily stood to leave.
“Thank you for coming by,” he said. “It was so lovely to s
ee you again, Lily.”
She gazed at him, a lovely blush still coloring her cheeks. She grinned again and shook her head. “A pig.”
“Well, look at you two,” Gordy said. “Carrying on and laughing and la-de-dah. And here I was feeling badly that you missed the performance. I even saved a sweet for you.” True to his word, Gordy held a small cake in his palm.
“Siren Sophie here baked it.” Gordy yanked his head back to indicate the French brunette who pushed his wheelchair. Sophie smiled blankly at Lily and Sam. “She cooks like a goddess but doesn’t understand a word of English. I don’t figure that’ll be much of a problem for us, though.”
“I think not understanding you might be a point in favor of the romance,” Sam said.
Lily shook her head. “I’ll leave you boys to one another.”
“Bluebird, you can’t go. I’ve only just gotten here.”
Lily shook her head and grinned. As she walked away, she called over her shoulder, “And I’ve told you, it’s Miss Curtis.”
Chapter Sixteen
Lily sat beside Gordy’s wheelchair in the fading light of the day room. It was close enough to supper that no patients were about. Their only company was a VAD who was busy lighting the gas lamps and pulling down the blackout curtains.
Lily pitched her voice low, conspiratorial. “It’s not that I dislike your idea, Gordy. It just seems a little risky.”
“Psshaw.” Gordy shook his head. Upon seeing that familiar motion, free of shell shock, she felt a flash of pride in him. “You’ll not even leave the grounds, Bluebird! You’re not breaking rules, technically. You’re simply helping a patient. That’s what VADs are supposed to do, aren’t they? Help patients.”
She nodded reluctantly. “Within the rules, yes. And your scheme breaks a few of them.” She twisted her hands together in her lap. “And I could get in a lot of trouble if someone were to see us.”
“But like I said, nobody’s going to.”
“And you know this—how?”
“Because Rosebud is assigned to the officers’ ward tonight and I know for a fact that she’s going to be busy.” Gordy shifted in his wheelchair.
Lily gave him a skeptical look.
Gordy took a steadying breath. “I’ve gone to a great deal of effort and expense to get a bottle of plonk smuggled in from the village. I aim to make Rosebud’s evening shift a little more romantic.”
Lily laughed. “Oh, Gordy, you devil. You seemed so shy during your blanket bath too.”
“Oh, that shy stuff’s all an act.” He gave her his best wicked grin which looked fantastically out of place on his innocent face.
She considered him, sitting before her looking so earnest.
“Listen, Sam’s bed is right next to mine. There’s not much I miss. I know what happened between you after his last seizure. The night you made him promise to be on his best behavior.”
Lily felt a twinge of guilt. “Never mind scolding you for listening in. I know it wouldn’t do any good. But you must know that I insisted on his word for his own good!”
“Oh, I know that. He does too. But still, he fulfilled his bit of the bargain. Stayed indoors while all of us went to the garden, took in that concert last night. He deserves a bit of a reward, don’t you think? Just an hour, walking around in the garden—that’s all I ask. I know he can’t be out in the sun, but a moonlight stroll will go such a long way to mending his spirits.”
The idea sounded heavenly, Lily had to admit. But she’d never been much for going against the rules, even when it came to medical issues, never mind a moonlit rendezvous. Gordy continued to give her his most heartfelt stare.
“Do you really think it would make that much of a difference?” she asked.
“I know it will.” Gordy’s eyes shone with sincerity. “Earlier today he looked out the window so longingly, I thought it would break my heart.”
“Oh, now you’re completely over-selling it.” She couldn’t help but laugh. It was one thing to see Gordy wear his heart on his sleeve, but to see it decorated with the hearts of others, Sam’s specifically, felt a little strange.
“So you’ll do it?”
Lily hesitated.
“I suppose I should tell you that I’ve already pretty much arranged things.” Gordy gave her a guilty look. “Just over breakfast, he looked so forlorn that I told him you’d be coming by tonight.”
“Gordy! How could you?”
He lifted his palms to the ceiling. “Because I was certain you wouldn’t say no. You’re far too sweet and kind to disappoint a brave soldier who has given his all for King and country.”
“You’re laying it on too thick again, soldier.”
Gordy sighed and shrugged. “Very well, I’ll tell him you’re cancelling on him. I just hope it doesn’t crush his will to live.”
“Oh, Gordy—you’re relentless.” She held her hands up in mock surrender. “I’ll do it.”
Gordy grinned in triumph. “He’ll be expecting you at midnight. The rest of the ward should be well asleep by then.”
“And you and Rose should be into your second glass of wine?” she asked.
“Something like that,” Gordy said, his grin widening.
Lily slipped onto the silent ward at ten to midnight. Two gas lamps on the wall flickered against the plaster walls, dimly illuminating tidy rows of sleeping men.
Earlier that afternoon, she’d carefully tested the wheelchairs before settling on one that was relatively squeakless. For a girl unaccustomed to deception, she felt an inordinate amount of pride over her stealthiness in the matter. She’d never done anything half so daring in her life. Her heart thrummed in her chest like the hoof beats of a buffalo stampede.
She swallowed, steadied her nerves, then pushed the wheelchair toward the corner of the room, as silent as the night itself.
She should have known immediately that something was up when she saw a lumpy shape in Gordy’s bed. Rather than sipping wine with Rose, as he’d planned, somehow he was instead abed, fast asleep and whistling soft snores. How curious.
When she glanced to Sam, she found with dismay that he too was sleeping soundly. His lashes resting against his cheeks. His lips parted in slumber. Her heart sank.
Lily hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. Should she just return the chair to the hall and sneak back to bed? That would be the safe bet, the sane thing to do.
On the other hand…she’d already gone to an awful lot of trouble to arrange things. And Gordy had convinced her that Sam needed this—that he was counting on it. And he wasn’t the only one. The thought of being alone with Sam in the garden had been blooming in her mind since Gordy had planted it there—turning her plain day into something extraordinary, ripe with anticipation. Perhaps she needed a nighttime garden visit as much as Sam did.
She reached out to touch Sam’s shoulder and shook him gently.
He blinked at her, his expression startled. Before he could speak, she leaned down to whisper in his ear. “I’m sorry to wake you, but I’m here because of Gordy.”
“Gordy?” His brow creased in concern. “What’s wrong with Gordy?”
“Nothing.” She continued to speak softly into his ear. “Gordy’s fine.”
Sam cocked his head, giving her a most curious expression. She recognized it immediately. It was the look that nurses gave to patients in the throes of a delusion. To find herself on the receiving end of such an expression was a very humbling feeling.
“I’m here to take you on your walk,” she said. “You know? The one Gordy arranged?”
Sam’s narrowed his eyes at her, clearly at a loss for words.
“He…he didn’t? You didn’t?” Lily stammered. “I think…Gordy may have lied to me about something, Sam.”
Sam smiled, his teeth white in the darkened room. “Gordy telling a lie? That I can beli
eve. What’s this all about?”
“Oh good. Bluebird, you’re finally here.” Gordy spoke in a hushed tone. Lily spun around to see the culprit sitting up in bed, wearing an unashamed grin.
Sam rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up in bed. “I fear I’m quite behind you both. What is it we’re doing?”
“Lily is here to take you for a walk in the garden, as we talked about.” Gordy emphasized the last four words with something bordering on menace. At least, menacing for Gordy.
“Ah, yes,” Sam said. “I remember now.” He swallowed and gave Lily a lost smile.
Lily couldn’t decide who was the worse liar: Gordy for pretending he wasn’t playing matchmaker or Sam for pretending he had any idea of Gordy’s plans.
She stared down at the wheelchair, stupidly, unsure of what to do. Gordy didn’t let her linger for long.
“Let’s just get you going then,” he whispered as he passed Lily. Before she had a chance to move, Gordy had one arm about Sam and was walking him toward the aisle. Sam settled into the wheelchair, at least having the good grace to look sheepish about the adventure.
Lily pulled the warming blanket from his bedside table. Once she’d tucked the covering around Sam’s legs, she leaned to Gordy and spoke in a low and what she hoped was threatening tone, “You and I will have a little chat about this later.”
Gordy had the cheek to give her an innocent look. “I always look forward to our talks, Miss Curtis.”
Lily snorted. “Please. Now I’m Miss? You really must know you’re in trouble.”
She turned back toward the chair. Just as she began to push it toward the aisle, Gordy leaned over and plopped a small canvas bag onto Sam’s lap. The contents clanked curiously.
Gordy mouthed the word “Cheerio” and gave a jaunty wave.
Lily pushed Sam through the back hall in silence, opening the rear door cautiously. After she wheeled him through the kitchen, she nudged open the back door. A cool breeze greeted her, rustling through her skirt. She navigated the chair down the garden path, toward the southern edge, where the enterprising kitchen staff had turned a cistern into a makeshift fountain. It was crude, with the hose sticking up at an odd angle, but it also held a kind of rustic charm that might appeal to Sam’s farmer sensibilities.
