by Stacy Henrie
Alice remained quiet as Evelyn talked. Only her facial expressions, which vacillated between surprise and sympathy, showed what she might be thinking. When there was nothing left to tell, Evelyn wiped away the last of her tears. The tightness in her chest had eased a little at sharing the total burden of her secrets with someone else besides Joel.
“I can’t believe all this was going on and I never knew.” Alice shifted on the bed to rest her back against the wall.
“I needed to keep it that way, although it doesn’t matter now.”
“No wonder you were worried about me and Sergeant Dennis.”
Evelyn nodded. She’d finished her bread, but she couldn’t stomach anything else.
“What will you do now?” Alice asked, her voice full of compassion.
It was the question that had plagued Evelyn since waking from the surgery. “I…I don’t know.”
“Aren’t you still going to marry Joel?”
Evelyn closed her eyes. His handsome face rose in her mind, the hazel eyes, the boyish grin. “How can I? He asked me to be his wife largely because of the…the…baby.” The word cut through her throat and her heart.
“But he loves you. I’m sure of it.”
“He never said it.” Evelyn opened her eyes and peered up at the slats of the ceiling, the underside of the floor above. That’s how she felt—turned inside out with grief, scarred with self-reproach over what she might have done differently to keep the baby.
If she’d refused the night shift or hadn’t carried any boxes, would the baby still be alive? She hated these questions. She could hear Dr. Dupont’s reminder of their futility, but she felt powerless to stop them.
“Besides, maybe losing Joel and”—she couldn’t bring herself to repeat the word baby out loud again—“and not being pregnant are my punishment.”
“Evelyn, that’s not true. We all make mistakes. God still—”
“Nurse Gray? Nurse Gray?” a frantic young voice hollered. The shouts were accompanied by the slap of bare feet against the stairs.
“Louis?” Remembrance dawned on Evelyn at the same instant Alice jumped up and walked out the open door. Louis’s mother was sick and I promised to come. A new round of guilt flowered inside her. She physically couldn’t have helped him yesterday, but she still felt horrible for letting the boy down.
“We’re in here, Louis,” she heard Alice call down the stairs.
Evelyn struggled to a sitting position just as the boy burst into the room, followed by Alice at a more sedate pace. His hair stood up on end, and his clothes looked as though he’d slept in them. “What’s the matter, Louis? Is your mother any better? I’m so sorry I couldn’t—”
Louis hurled himself across the room, straight at Evelyn. She bit back a cry of pain as he landed next to her on the bed. He buried his head in the crook of her neck and began to weep. Evelyn wrapped her arms around him as she gave Alice a questioning look. Alice shook her head in equal puzzlement.
Evelyn attempted to tamp down his thick, black hair. “What’s happened?” she asked softly.
“She is gone,” he sobbed into Evelyn’s nightdress.
“Gone? You mean…” Evelyn froze, her hand unmoving on his head. No. Oh please, no.
Louis dipped his chin. “She is dead, Nurse Gray. She died today. I made her drink the tea and gave her blankets and told her stories, but I couldn’t make her well…” His voice broke on a sob.
Evelyn felt incapable of speaking. No words were sufficient anyway. Instead she held the boy tight as regret seared her mind. If only she’d been able to do something for his mother, or at the very least, had been there with Louis through the awful ordeal.
“I’m so sorry, Louis.” Alice sank onto her own bed. “Does anyone else know?”
“Ma mère told me to get Madame Heroux.” He sniffed and ran the back of his hand under his nose. “The old lady came, but she made me leave the room. When I came out, she said ma mère was gone. She sent me for the pasteur. He and Madame Heroux talked like I was not there, so I left.”
“Oh, Louis,” Evelyn said, finding her voice at last. “I am so very, very sorry.”
Louis put his arms around Evelyn’s neck, nearly crushing her breath. “Can I stay with you? S’il vous plaît?”
“For a while.” Evelyn eased his hold around her throat. “But I’m sure the pasteur and Madame Heroux will be worried if you don’t return soon. Perhaps I could…”
Alice guessed at what she was going to say. “No, you need to stay in bed. I’ll talk to Sister Marcelle and see what she advises.”
“Thank you, Alice.” Evelyn sent her friend a look of gratitude over Louis’s head.
Alice gave her a quick smile. “What are friends for?”
Not for the first time, Evelyn felt a surge of appreciation that she and Alice had mended things between them. She would not have survived the last two days without Alice’s help.
Once her roommate left, Evelyn scooted toward the wall so Louis could sit beside her against the pillow. She kept her arm wrapped around him. He laid his head on her shoulder and sniffed again.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to come help your mother, Louis.” Thankfully she couldn’t see his eyes; she hated to think of the disappointment or accusation she might find there. “I…got very sick yesterday, and even missed the surgery I was supposed to help with.”
Louis’s head shot up. “Are you going to die, too?” His voice bordered on sheer panic. He needed her now more than ever, with his mother gone. Evelyn rested her hand against her empty womb. Perhaps she needed him, too.
“No, Louis, I’m not going to die.” At least not on the outside. “I’ll be back to work soon, but I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
He gave a halfhearted shrug. “It does not matter. She is dead and I am alone.”
His attempt at bravery nearly broke Evelyn’s heart anew. She twisted to face him and gripped his shoulders. “It’s okay to cry and feel afraid, Louis. I did that when my father died and I was almost an adult. But you must never, ever think you’re alone.”
“’Cause I have God with me?”
The sincere question pierced straight through Evelyn’s chest. She wasn’t able to answer in the affirmative for herself yet, but she had no doubt Someone was watching over Louis. Why else would she have met him?
“Yes, Louis. Because God is with you, and because I will be with you as long as I can. And Nurse Thornton and the sisters at the hospital.”
“And Corporal Campbell.”
Tears threatened again and Evelyn forced a cleansing breath through her nose to drive them back. Joel might not want to marry her anymore, but maybe he would keep in contact with Louis.
“I miss her,” Louis said. “It hurts bad, right here.” He placed a hand over his chest.
Evelyn hugged him tight. She could no longer keep from weeping. Her chest hurt fiercely, too. She’d wanted so much to be Joel’s wife and a mother, and now she wouldn’t be either. At least hugging Louis gave her empty arms something to hold.
Neither of them spoke again, but Evelyn felt a bond being forged between them as they silently cried out their grief together. Sometime later, Sister Marcelle pushed through the partially open door.
“Come in,” Evelyn said. She hurried to wipe the moisture from her cheeks.
“How are you feeling, child?”
Does she know what I’ve been through? Evelyn wondered, a prick of alarm knotting her stomach. The open sincerity on Sister Marcelle’s face belied Evelyn’s fear, though.
“I promise to be back to work as soon as I’m able.”
Sister Marcelle waved away her words. “I am not concerned with you shirking your duty, Nurse Gray. Far from it.” She stepped to the bed. “Now, young Louis. I am sorry to hear of your mother’s passing. Do you have any living relatives nearby?”
Louis shook his head.
“I see.” Sister Marcelle folded her hands within the long sleeves of her dress. “Then I would like to offer you a
home here at the hospital, for the time being.” Louis sat up straight at the announcement, and Evelyn gave his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. To have him here and taken care of was her greatest wish right now.
“If you are willing to continue assisting us in various tasks, I will see that Cook gives you regular meals and you may sleep in one of the attic rooms.” Sister Marcelle gave him a kind smile. “Would that sort of arrangement please you?”
“Oui.” Louis glanced at Evelyn. “Can I eat with Nurse Gray and say bon nuit to her when I go to bed?”
Sister Marcelle tipped her headdress forward in a thoughtful nod. “As long as you do not disrupt Nurse Gray during her assignments, I have no objection to you taking meals with her. As far as bidding her good night, I don’t believe that would be sufficient, do you, Nurse Gray?”
Evelyn studied the sister’s neutral expression. “It wouldn’t?”
“I think a hard worker and a gentleman such as Louis,” Sister Marcelle said, her mouth twitching with a smile, “deserves to be tucked in at night.”
“Merci, Sister Marcelle.” The boy jumped up from the bed and threw his arms around the sister’s waist. Sister Marcelle appeared momentarily startled, but her face softened as she hugged Louis back.
“We must leave Nurse Gray to her rest now, while you and I walk back to your home. I want to share our plans with the pasteur and find out when he wishes to hold the funeral.” She offered her hand to Louis, who slipped his small one into hers. “He may also know of a family or two who have lost their homes to the war and may benefit from living in yours. Since you will be here with us, Louis.”
His exuberance had drooped at the news of returning home, but he stuck out his chin in an obvious effort at courage. “I will be back soon, Nurse Gray. Get better.” He gave her a limp wave with his free hand.
Evelyn waved back. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
He and Sister Marcelle walked out of the room, leaving Evelyn alone once more—just as she’d wanted. But the quiet grew large and suffocating. The sooner she could return to her work in the hospital, the better. At least she would have Louis to help occupy her hours off. And she wouldn’t have to say good-bye to him or Alice or Sister Marcelle now. That knowledge eased her anguish a little.
As hard as it might have been to leave these dear people, she would have done it a thousand times over if it meant keeping her baby. If it meant keeping her last remaining connection to Ralph. If it meant keeping her hopes and dreams of marrying Joel and having a family.
Fresh tears coursed down her face as she slid back beneath the covers. She pulled them over her head. Hopefully sleep would block out—however temporarily—the torrent of emotions she couldn’t escape while awake.
* * *
Joel strode through the front doors of the château and jogged up the grand staircase. Everything about this private residence boasted wealth—from the fine food to the walls covered with paintings to the large room he and Sergeant Dennis shared.
He reached the landing and paused to catch his breath. He’d attempted running only the last couple of days, but already, strength was returning to his right leg. His arm was on the mend, too, and he’d soon be able to give up wearing the sling. He might be stiff and a little sore at night, even lying on his comfortable bed, but the walks—and now the slow runs—around the grounds were improving his overall stamina.
After traversing the next flight of stairs, he walked down the hallway to his room, grateful he could shave and wash up anytime he liked here. He ran a hand over the stubble on his face, thinking of the night Evelyn had given him a shave. Though he hadn’t realized it at the time, he’d started to fall in love with her that night.
Only seven more days till I see her again. The thought brought a whistle to his lips. He entered his room to find Sergeant Dennis reading at the desk.
“You spend more time with that Bible now than I do,” Joel teased. “I’d say you need to get yourself your own copy.”
Sergeant Dennis glanced up, a sly grin on his face. “Don’t forget I outrank you, Campbell. Maybe you oughta find yourself a new copy.”
Joel laughed as he walked through the open door of their private bathroom. He was pleased to see that Dennis’s enthusiasm for spiritual things hadn’t waned in the week away from Nurse Thornton. If anything, the sergeant had been more vigilant about studying, taking advantage of the times Joel wasn’t reading the Bible himself. His own faith had slowly been returning the last few weeks, but he’d gladly shared the book with his friend.
Removing his shirt, he set out his shaving things. He was becoming more and more adept at shaving with one hand. “Did you find out what day you’re leaving next week?” Joel called over his shoulder.
“Next Saturday. What about you?”
“Friday—just like we’d hoped.” Things were going exactly as he and Evelyn had planned. He smiled at himself in the mirror as he applied the soap lather.
“Wish I’d gotten the same day as you. Then I could’ve stood up as your best man,” Sergeant Dennis said. “I plan on goin’ down there myself with my free hours. Will you tell Alice that?”
“Sure thing.” Joel began sliding the razor across his face.
By this time next week, he’d be married to the woman he loved, and in another couple of months, they would have a baby. Maybe a son—a precocious one like Louis. Joel had to admit he missed the boy, especially since he’d discovered some new birds during his time at the château. Perhaps he’d loan his bird book to Louis and collect it back on his next leave.
Maybe Evelyn would have a girl. A beautiful, dark-eyed girl. Joel wouldn’t mind a daughter.
Of course, boy or girl, the baby might look like Ralph.
Joel frowned in the mirror as he rinsed off his razor. He didn’t want to think about Ralph right now. It only succeeded in dredging up the guilt he’d nearly buried beneath good rest, exercise, and thoughts of Evelyn.
I can’t change the past, he told himself, staring at his reflection. But he would do everything in his power, once he and Evelyn were married, to care for her and her child. Surely that would erase any lingering remorse and responsibility he felt over Ralph’s death.
His rationale made sense, but Joel couldn’t shake the feeling in his gut that he should have told Evelyn everything before leaving the hospital. He felt like a coward, and he hated that feeling.
He hurried to finish shaving, then put his sweaty shirt back on. “I think I’ll take another run around the grounds,” he announced as he stepped back into the room.
“All right.” Sergeant Dennis didn’t even look up from his reading.
Joel hurried down the stairs and back out the main doors, eager to hear the gravel crunching under his feet as he drove everything from his mind but pushing his body as hard as he could.
Chapter 15
Evelyn blinked, trying to remember which tool Dr. Dupont had requested. She couldn’t blame her muddled mind on the morphine anymore.
Dr. Dupont studied her intently from behind his glasses. He’d expressed concern about her returning to work too soon. She needed to focus more and reassure him that she did not need to go back to bed. The two and a half days she’d spent in that small room, minus her attendance at Louis’s mother’s funeral, had nearly killed her. She couldn’t stand the quiet or the isolation. It gave her too much time to think, to ask herself fruitless questions, to wonder how to break the news to Joel about the baby.
Before the doctor could repeat his request, Evelyn recalled what he’d asked for. She handed him the tool and forced her stiff lips to lift into a smile. He cocked an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Thankfully another nurse was present or Dr. Dupont might have pressed Evelyn for answers to how she was feeling. And that would be her downfall.
She crammed her emotions down deep inside and concentrated all her efforts on the surgery at hand. At least it wasn’t life-threatening. She could handle assisting the removal of a soldier’s tonsils.
Once
the procedure was over, Evelyn set about washing blood from the surgical tools and scrubbing down the room. Her gaze wandered to the bathroom and the last time she’d been in there. Remembering brought the shadowy echoes of panic she’d felt that day, and suddenly her lungs struggled for breath. While the doctor spoke with the other nurse, Evelyn slipped out the cellar entrance Dr. Dupont had pointed out the other day.
The afternoon sun had been obliterated by thick gray clouds, and the air hung heavy with the promise of a summer rainstorm. Evelyn pressed her back against the stone wall and forced herself to take even breaths until the horrible memories fled.
“Nurse Gray?” Louis called out as he bounded around the corner of the hospital. A basket swung wildly from his hand. “The doctor said I would find you here.”
Evelyn blushed. “Only for a minute. We just finished with a surgery. I should get back, Louis.”
The boy shook his head. “Dr. Dupont said you could come on my…” He scrunched his face. “What did you call it when we ate on the grass?”
“A picnic.”
“Yes, he said you are to come on my picnic.” He hoisted his basket in the air. “Cook made it up, but it smells good.”
Something akin to pleasure warmed Evelyn’s heart at Louis’s clever idea and the doctor’s foresight. She hadn’t fooled Dr. Dupont with her feigned composure after all.
“I think a picnic sounds lovely. Where shall we go?”
Louis twisted his head in one direction, then the other. “How about there?” He pointed to a break in the brush and trees that bordered the lawn. Evelyn nodded and followed her young rescuer to his chosen spot.
They sat down on the grass, and Louis plunked the basket between them. “I am hungry,” he declared, grabbing a loaf of bread for himself. He gobbled a bite as Evelyn fished out some bread and cheese for herself. The memory of the last time they’d shared a meal like this returned full force into her mind. She’d been pregnant—and sick—that day.
