by Terri Meeker
“No that. Bluebi—er, Miss Curtis. Been a whole day without her.”
Dr. Raye reached down for Gordy’s chart. “Miss Curtis is back with you now, where she belongs.”
Gordy craned his neck to look at Lily. “And did you save the ruddy day yesterday?” He was practically bouncing in place on his bed. Lily’s cheeks pinked a bit and she shot a nervous glance to Sam.
Dr. Raye laughed. “She did at that.” He leaned down toward Gordy, as if whispering something in confidence. “She even assisted me in the operating room for the procedure.”
“Did she now?” Gordy asked in a way that said “tell me more.”
“There wasn’t a person in the room that wasn’t most impressed by her performance.”
Lily was blushing furiously at this point. “It wasn’t so much, really. It’s just that I’d attended a demonstration of the Unger’s two-way stopcock technique with my father. Once you’ve seen a lecture on the subject, it makes putting it into practice so much easier.”
Dr. Raye shook his head. “Though Miss Curtis is quite gifted medically, I’m afraid she’s quite deficient at taking a compliment. I suppose none of us is perfect. Isn’t that right, Gordy?”
Gordy nodded, an unabashed look of pride on his face as he grinned at Lily.
Dr. Raye cleared his throat. “Now, let’s see about that cast, shall we?”
After a few moment of inquiring after Gordy’s leg, the doctor turned toward Sam. He greeted him with a look that was slightly more thawed than it had been the last few days.
“I hear you’ve been improving,” Dr. Raye said.
“Doing my best, sir,” Sam said truthfully.
“Miss Curtis, would you please unbuckle the wrist restraints for a moment?”
Lily complied wordlessly. The instant Sam was released, he rubbed his wrists, soothing the spots where the leather had been chafing against his skin.
“How long have those been on?” The doctor addressed Lily, but it was Sam who answered.
“Three days and fourteen hours. Give or take.”
The doctor chuckled, then cleared his throat. “And how about your headaches?”
“I haven’t had any in that time.”
“Follow my finger without moving your head, please.” The doctor moved his index finger in a line—from one side to another, then up and down. “How about now? Any headache? Eye pain?”
“Not at all, sir.”
“Grip my hands with yours, please. Squeeze as hard as you can, applying equal pressure to both hands.”
Sam did as he was asked.
“You’re doing very well, Captain. Your neurological signs are excellent.” The doctor reached down at the foot of the bed and unhooked Sam’s medical chart. He scribbled a few notes, then contemplated the tip of his pen for a moment before returning the clipboard to its hook. “I think the best thing for your mental state might be a change of scenery. And we’ve got no medical reason to keep you here. I’m recommending you for immediate release.”
“Released to where, sir?”
“Back to Blighty. A hospital near your home. West Sussex? Do I have that right?”
Sam nodded numbly.
“In two years of sending men back to England, I don’t believe I’ve ever met with a more unenthusiastic response.” Dr. Raye shook his head. “Captain Dwight, you’re going home!”
The doctor beamed a grin toward Sam and Sam tried to respond, but his lips felt thick and waxy. He cast a glance up to Lily, who hid her expression by tucking her chin downward.
“Thank you, sir.”
Dr. Raye cleared his throat, a wary expression replacing his smile.
“And thank you for your excellent care while I’ve been here. I know I’ve been a less than ideal patient at times.”
The doctor nodded and patted Sam’s shoulder. “War is hell, as a better man than I once said. We’ve all made mistakes, Captain. The trick is moving past them. It’s wonderful to see you moving beyond yours.”
Dr. Raye turned toward Gordy. Before Lily followed him, she grasped Sam’s wrist and refastened the leather cuff around his arm, then attached it to the bed.
“Must you?” Sam asked. “The doctor didn’t say a word about putting me back in these things.”
“I know you better than he does,” Lily said without meeting his eyes. She repeated the procedure with his other arm. “And they were my idea in the first place. I feel you still need them.”
She moved on to assist with Gordy’s examination, still keeping her face downturned.
Sam felt a tremendous weariness and closed his eyes. At long last, to return to England? To say goodbye to Lily while things were so impossible between them? To abandon any hope of healing his comrades? He knew he couldn’t stay indefinitely—base hospitals weren’t intended for long-term care. But only having a few more days in New Bedlam? He simply wasn’t ready.
Chapter Twenty-Two
One good thing about being a VAD, it gave a girl no time to indulge in moping. No matter how conflicted Lily felt at Sam’s bizarre explanation for his seizures or how she felt about him leaving for England, a line of wounded still needed their dressings changed and meals delivered.
She was just collecting the last of the breakfast trays when Matron Marshall opened the door at the front of the room. An unfamiliar man in a captain’s uniform followed closely behind her. He was tall and impeccably groomed.
“Gentlemen.” The matron’s voice stilled the room in an instant. Should the matron desire part-time employment, Lily had no doubt that she could get work on the side as an air raid siren.
“Allow me to introduce Captain Mortimore.” The captain cast a glance around the room, then gave a snappy salute, grinning wide. Lily liked him immediately.
“The captain,” Matron Marshall continued, “has just come over with a special treat, direct from England.”
There was some scattered applause. Someone, Gordy most likely, yelled, “Is it girls?”
Captain Mortimore chuckled good-naturedly and earned a wilting glance from the matron.
“Perhaps the captain should tell you about it himself,” the matron said.
Calls of “hear, hear” echoed through the ward. The captain had the men’s rapt attention.
“Very well.” Captain Mortimore stepped forward. “First of all, I’d like to thank you men for your service. Your King, your country, indeed, the whole free world thanks you.”
The men burst out in applause. Lily grinned, unsure if they were clapping for the captain or themselves or just, perhaps, the chance to cheer and be happy for a short time.
“I won’t keep you longer than necessary, but wanted to stop by to issue an invitation to those of you who are able to travel a short distance. We’ve got a special weapon down at the train station. Something that’s certain to change the tide of this blasted war and send Jerry packing.”
This was met with more cheers and scattered foot stomping.
“I was on my way to HQ with this marvelous machine, but then I thought, why, before I give a demonstration to General Haig, you fellows might be interested in it as well. God knows, you’ve earned it.”
The ward erupted in cheers and more than a few “Hurrahs.” Gordy tried to begin a chorus of what sounded like For We’re All Jolly Good Fellows, but the matron hushed him before he could get it going.
“Matron Marshall has been kind enough to arrange ambulance transport for you. I’ll leave that to her capable hands. I look forward to seeing you at the station.” Captain Mortimore gave another crisp salute and nodded toward the matron.
Matron Marshall motioned for the staff. They joined her with haste, having learned early on that it didn’t pay to make the matron wait. Once they were close, she began to issue instructions. “Sister Newell, the doctors are accompanying us. I’ll leave you in charge of the e
nlisted wards. Unfortunately, the enlisted staff will also have to remain.”
Sister Newell nodded, looking as dour as ever.
The matron looked over the little crowd of starched scarves. “The rest of you will assist the men. VADs, follow the same procedures as when we bring them to the back garden. The only difference is that you’ll be assisting them into waiting ambulances.”
“Miss Curtis, you’re to remain here.” The matron’s mouth curved up, ever so slightly. “Since Dr. Raye finds you so competent medically, I’m sure you’ll do a fine job looking after the few officers who won’t be able to join us.”
Lily knew it was meant to be a punishment, but she couldn’t have been more delighted. She’d just been banished to a few hours of being practically alone with Sam. She tilted her head down, hoping the matron would take it for sorrow and not the fact that she was hiding a grin.
The bored patients were delighted at the diversion and those who could quickly queued at the door. Not surprisingly, Gordy was first in line. As the men shuffled out the door, VADs assisted the non-ambulatory patients into wheelchairs and pushed them through the front doors to be loaded into the ambulances. As Lily worked to assist the men into wheelchairs, she kept casting looks back at Sam. Rather than looking disappointed in the turn of events, he seemed quite unperturbed. Happy, even.
The door closed at last, and Lily surveyed the nearly empty ward. She was left with only seven men, most of whom were unconscious.
After checking the charts of the most critical patients, she finished the routine chore of changing bandages. Some of the more seriously injured had recently undergone amputations, which had to be watched very carefully in the first few days.
All the while, she would cast little stolen looks toward Sam and each time she did, she found his eyes on her. Though he was strapped to a bed and she was busy on the other side of the room, they remained tethered to one another with a glance. Despite all the recent turmoil between them, the connection was a very comforting feeling.
Once she’d tended to the rest of her patients, she headed toward the back of the ward. Instead of turning toward Sam’s corner, however, she pushed through the kitchen door and on through to the back door.
She scurried through the back garden toward the makeshift fountain, to the remains of her herb garden. She plucked a handful of plants: licorice, dill, peppermint. As an afterthought, she snapped off a few sprigs of lavender as well. On her way back through the kitchen, she filled a glass jar with water and placed the plants inside.
She didn’t bother to arrange the stalks artfully. If she stopped long enough to do such a thing, she’d rethink her plan entirely.
Lily pushed open the ward door and headed directly toward Sam. She kept her eyes on the little glass of herbs. If she looked up at him, she feared she lose her courage.
She set the arrangement on top of his bedside table, then settled into the chair at his bedside. When she lifted her eyes to him, he watched her with an expression of surprise.
“Since you can’t go outside. I thought I’d bring the outside to you,” she said.
“It’s wonderful. Thank you, Lily.” He smiled and his eyes crinkled around the edges.
“I felt bad and a little responsible that you had to miss the big demonstration this afternoon.”
“Strange.” Sam’s smile widened. “I don’t feel as though I’m missing a thing.”
Lily settled into her usual chair, wondering how many more times she’d have a chance to sit beside him. “Shall we tend to your correspondence? Perhaps you’d like to write your sister? Tell her you’re coming home? Though you will likely be there before your letter has a chance to arrive.”
The moment she mentioned his return to England, he suddenly became very serious. Sam took a deep breath and looked at her, his expression somber.
At last, he broke the silence. “Any word on when that might be?”
Lily shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t know. We usually send a fairly large group every three or four days and the last one went out yesterday.”
“I see.” He nodded, keeping his gaze on her.
Before another uncomfortable silence could grow between them, Lily steeled herself and began to speak. “Sam, you must…”
“Lily, please…” Apparently, Sam had the same thought and they spoke at the same time.
She smiled at him nervously. “Please, go on, Sam.”
“Oh, I couldn’t,” he said. “Ladies first. I insist.”
Lily stared down and shuffled her feet. “Well, I was just… That is to say, I just want the best for you.”
Sam smiled widely. “I believe you began with ‘Sam, you must.’ What must I do, Lily? Come on, then. You’ve always been no-nonsense Lily. Don’t change on me now.”
“Very well.” She looked him directly in the eye. If he thought her so brave, she ought to live up to it. “You must take care of yourself when you’re back in Blighty.”
He met her gaze, his expression solemn. “I will, darling.”
Lily shook her head again. “That’s not enough, Sam. I need your word. That week you were under your oath to me, you didn’t have any seizures. I need to ask that you give me your word again. This time, though, it’s to be longer than a week. I need you to promise that you’ll never trigger another seizure for the rest of your life.” Her foolish eyes immediately filled with tears and she blinked them back.
Sam considered her words. “That’s a big promise.”
“I know it is.”
He pressed his lips together, deep in thought. “Before I give my word, I’d like to tell you what I was about to say to you. I was going to ask for a rather large favor of my own.”
Lily couldn’t imagine what it might be.
“Wait for me.” He said it as if it were a question.
She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t take her eyes away from his sincere, beautiful face.
“I know I’m not much of a catch right now,” Sam said, “lashed to a bed like a madman. Even once I’m healed, I don’t know how ‘whole’ I’ll ever be. But I ask that you give me a chance. I’m quite in love with you, Lily, like I never knew I could love.”
“Sam, I…oh, Sam.”
“That I could find someone like you in the middle of all this destruction and death—it’s a kind of miracle. And I’d like to hope for another miracle for us after the war.”
She wanted to respond. She knew she should respond, but couldn’t think of the right words.
“Could you at least give me a chance?”
“Of course, Sam. You must know how I feel.”
“I don’t.” He grinned. “You’ve said you care for me, but haven’t given me reason to hope that we could have anything after New Bedlam.”
“Well, I’ve shown you.” She glanced over at the bouquet of herbs on his night table. “I don’t go kissing men in the moonlight as a habit.”
He smiled. “That night you listed off reasons that we could never work out. I’d like to think that there’s a part of you that hopes we could.”
Lily reached over, grasped his hand and squeezed. He squeezed back, as far as his leather restraint would allow.
“Do you think we could?” he persisted. “Would you be willing to take a chance?”
“Yes. Oh, yes, Sam. And do I have your word? Your solemn oath that you’ll not trigger another seizure?”
“You have my word, Lily.”
She leaned down and right in the middle of the ward, in plain daylight, she kissed him lightly on the cheek. His eyes widened in shock and she heard him gasp an intake of air.
“Thank you, Sam,” she whispered in his ear.
His eyelids fluttered closed, a faint smile play on his lips. “I wish we weren’t on an open ward just now. I long, very much, to kiss you properly.”
Lily pulled back. “I’m not certain that the concept of ‘proper’ and ‘kissing’ go together. And we wouldn’t want to put the other patients at risk with our shocking behavior.”
“Perhaps we could make a small fortress with our bed linens,” he suggested, his smile widening. “The other patients wouldn’t suspect a thing.”
“I think if you suddenly erected Fort Sam that the other patients might notice.”
Erecting Fort Sam? Had she truly just said such a suggestive thing?
Blushing furiously, she cast a guilty glance up at the clock on the wall. She was surprised that nearly ten minutes had gone by. “And with that, I really should check up on my other patients. With luck, I should be able to stop by again before the boys return from the demonstration.”
“Of course, Lily.” He smiled at her tenderly. “While you’re gone I shall formulate plans for our fort. Perhaps I can come up with an amazing technological breakthrough. It might not be better than whatever Captain Mortimore has got, but I’d make sure it was matron-proof.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
By the time the men returned from Captain Mortimer’s demonstration, it was late afternoon. Once the VADs had settled the men in, they scurried off to ready the evening meal.
Gordy was so excited about what he’d seen that he momentarily forgot that he was irritated with Sam.
“Quite lucky to get to see it, you know,” Gordy said. “It’s top secret.”
“Is that right?” Sam asked.
“Too right! Even the factory workers who made it weren’t told what it was. The brass told them it was a portable water collection device to be used in desert warfare. Of course ‘water collector’ had the unfortunate initials of ‘WC’ and the idea of a lot of portable toilets was just silly.”
“Well, yes,” Sam agreed.
“They ended up just calling it a ‘tank,’ just to keep the Jerries guessing. It’s really a type of land ship, but if they called it that, well that would give the whole game away. The whole ruddy thing is made of metal, so you can imagine how hard it would be to stop one of them. And it hasn’t got tires.” Gordy looked at Sam and raised his brows. “Don’t you want to know what it’s got instead of tires?”
