Tabitha

by Vikki Kestell

  After lunch, they wandered along the winding bank of the river until they reached a picturesque bridge. Tabitha kept watch on the sun, knowing as it moved farther across the sky, that their time was running out.

  Carpenter, too, glanced up. “This,” he murmured, “is as good a place as any.”

  Still holding Tabitha’s fingertips in his hand, he sank down on one knee. “I did not ask you properly the last time, my dearest, but I would have this moment, this memory, be special for both of us—this perfect day, this beautiful place, and this one, special question: Tabitha, will you marry me?”

  Tabitha trembled. “Even if I cannot give you children, Mason?”

  He nodded. “Yes. I have been thinking and praying about it. Perhaps we should seek God’s will for us concerning adoption? But, my love, you should know: Without you, I would not want a family. You are my only love. Will you marry me?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “It would be my honor.”

  He rose to his feet and there, in front of any watching eye, they sealed their engagement with a soft, chaste kiss. Tabitha was still trembling when he opened her hand and pressed something into her palm, closing her hand around it.

  She grasped the warm object and opened her fingers to look at it. A gold circlet set in blazing green stones winked at her.

  “Oh, Mason!”

  “It was my mother’s,” he told her. His voice was rough as he added, “I realize that as a war nurse you cannot marry me at present, and I know that as a nurse you cannot wear this token of our pledge, so I give you this to keep my ring near your heart until this war is over and I place it upon your hand.”

  He took the ring, threaded it through a gold chain, and clasped it about her neck.

  Tabitha fingered the ring and sighed. “I shall wear it always, dear Mason.” She kissed it and tucked the chain and ring into the neckline of her dress.

  The ring settled just where Mason had intended.

  Next to her heart.

  ~~~

  “Nurse Hale, did ye hear th’ news?” Litton, one of the VADs in her dormitory, demanded.

  “No, I do not think so,” Tabitha answered. “What is it?”

  “Them bloody Germans sank another of yourn Yank ships, wot,” she tossed over her shoulder. “Left th’ rag for ye on th’ table.”

  Tabitha frowned but, seeing the “rag,” the British newspaper, lying on the table, she unfolded it. The August 19 headline blared:

  U-BOAT SINKS SS ARABIC

  44 DEAD

  “Oh!” The headlines swam before her eyes and she sat down abruptly. When the haze passed, Tabitha skimmed the article, then began at the top and read it again, slowly. When she finished, she folded the paper and let her thoughts wander.

  A German U-boat sank the Arabic off the coast of Ireland, just south of the city of Kinsale, on a return voyage to the United States. Despite heaving to and launching lifeboats immediately, forty-four died, because the ship sank in just ten minutes. Captain Finch survived, but of the forty-four who died, twenty-five were Arabic crew members.

  Tabitha, eyes wide, heard the shriek of the claxon and struggled against the crush of harried passengers as they ran to their lifeboat stations. She fumbled with the unfamiliar life vest. A crewman helped her to don it.

  “Tie it here and here,” he had said before rushing away.

  Did he die, Lord? Did that young man perish? Did the ship’s doctor go down with the ship?

  Tabitha was late to teach her class that morning and was distracted the remainder of the day.

  “SS Arabic, early 20th C” by unsigned, postcard.

  Licensed under Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons.

  Tabitha wrote the news of their engagement home to Palmer House, to Claire, and to her parents. The letters she received in return were filled with joyful congratulations. Rose wrote,

  Along with your wonderful news, we can share some of our own. Pastor and Breona anticipate a blessed event in the late spring. Our darling Breona! She is shy to talk about her coming baby, but I know she will be a wonderful mother. Now I covet your prayers! The Lord must provide us with a new housekeeper.

  ~~~

  Carpenter visited Tabitha again before the year ended. They spent part of Saturday, Christmas Day, together and met for church the following morning.

  “This is Boxing Day,” Carpenter told Tabitha. “Traditionally, everyone visits friends and family on Boxing Day. What shall we do?”

  “If we were home together, we would be sharing this Sunday with our friends at Palmer House.”

  “And what would our Sunday look like were we in Denver, sweetness?”

  “Oh!” Tabitha waxed bold. “Why, we would attend church with them at Calvary Temple. We would sing from our hearts to God and Pastor Carmichael would feed us a hearty meal from the Scriptures. Afterward, I would hug Breona and feel how her tummy has grown.”

  Tabitha’s eyes shone. “Then we would all meet at Palmer House where Marit and the girls would lay out a wonderful dinner. We and our dear friends would gather around the table to eat, and we would share our stories of what God has been doing in us and for us, and Mr. Wheatley would try to commit you to a game of checkers after dinner, and—”

  She stopped when he burst into laughter. “What? You asked!”

  “Yes, and you describe it to a ‘T,’ darling. So, please! Continue. What would we do after dinner at Palmer House?”

  “Well, I would grab little Charley and cuddle him until he squawked, while you, my dear fiancé, would allow Shan-Rose and Will to climb aboard your back for pony rides.”

  “What a wonderful picture you paint,” he whispered, “and I pray God we shall do all of that someday soon. However, since we cannot cuddle Charley or play horsey with Will and Shan-Rose on this special day, may I suggest that we do this instead?”

  “Do what?” Tabitha asked, intrigued.

  “Aha! Well, it seems I have arrived in Colchester with two rather overfull suitcases. Imagine it, my dear! These suitcases are packed to their limits with the most delectable and imaginative things children could hope for at Christmas: tins of lollipops, gumdrops, and peppermints; boxes of chocolates and cookies; little dollies, teddy bears, puzzles, wooden trains, and tops. New socks, mittens, hats, and mufflers. Cliff and I collected these goodies and treasures over the past month.”

  She stared at him. “Why, whatever will we do with all that?”

  He grinned. “I have it on good authority that St. Martin’s Orphanage, just outside town, is having a party for their children today. That is, we are hosting a party for their children today.”

  Tabitha’s eyes widened. “Ohhhh, Mason! You are a beautiful man—how I love your heart! But how shall we get there?”

  “Sister Alistair, who, by the way, happened to tell me of this orphanage, has lent me her motorcar. She took the train home to visit her brother’s family and left her automobile for me to use—with the stipulation that I not drive it on the wrong side of the road, of course. So tell me, Tabs. Would you care to accompany me to share all these treats with the orphans of St. Martin’s?”

  When they arrived at the orphanage, they found that the war had swelled the ranks of the motherless and fatherless. Sister Mary Angela showed them into the room where others in the parish were already serving around punch and cookies to the children. Nearly one hundred children sat quietly at tables munching their treats. They stared with curious eyes at Mason and Tabitha—particularly as Carpenter lugged his overpacked suitcases into the hall.

  He and Sister Mary Angela and the parish rector discussed how to distribute the candy and other gifts. In the end though, despite their best attempts, it was a happy riot. The children were so eager that Tabitha and Mason grabbed from the open suitcases the first thing that seemed a good fit and handed it to the next child clamoring excitedly at their feet.

  All the children received at least one article of clothing, one small toy, and cookies and candy galore. Their shrieks of laughter
and pleasure left Tabitha and Mason flushed with joy.

  Tabitha sighed in contentment on the road back to Colchester. “What a marvelous thing Boxing Day is, Mason.”

  “See anything you liked there?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He grinned. “I am thinking of when this blasted war is over and we can be married. I am thinking of filling that empty old house of mine—of ours—with just the kind of mayhem we witnessed today.”

  He sighed in contentment equal to hers. “With every child I looked at today, I had the thought, ‘Why, this boy could be ours!’ or ‘What I would not give to hold this little girl on my lap and read her bedtime stories!’”

  Tabitha’s eyes filled. “Oh, Mason. How I love your heart.”

  ~~**~~

  Chapter 23

  January 1916

  After the New Year, the course of the war worsened, and Colchester Hospital overflowed with patients. Tabitha’s responsibilities increased as the British Red Cross sent scores of new VAD recruits to them.

  “Obviously, we cannot use this many unseasoned VADs, Nurse Hale, but it seems that word of your program has gotten out,” Matron informed Tabitha.

  “The Red Cross is, understandably, overwhelmed and is unable to provide the initial—and quite limited—training it usually gives to all new volunteers. They are now sending raw VADs to us to train.”

  Matron tapped her pencil on her desk, thinking. “If we can manage it without disrupting the hospital, I should like to send our seasoned VADs on to new posts. We would keep the raw ones until they, too, are trained and ready to move on.”

  Tabitha squared her shoulders and rose to the task. She promoted eight of her best VADs to proctor new, smaller cohorts and set them to teach classes she knew they could handle on their own. Colchester, as Matron desired, sent twenty trained VADs on to posts where they were most needed. In a month, twenty more would follow.

  As for the nursing sisters, their numbers were increasing also, but not at Colchester. Yes, newer nursing sisters were posted to Colchester, but the more experienced nurses were dispatched to form casualty clearing stations or to staff field hospitals near the front.

  Seven of Colchester’s nursing sisters left in February, including Sisters McDonald and Ingram. Tabitha found herself owning the responsibility of orienting new sisters to their duties as no nursing sister could be spared for the task.

  “Much like a sergeant will acclimate and educate his superior officer on the field of battle, we are leaning upon you, Nurse Hale, to help us acclimate our new sisters,” Matron Stiles informed her.

  She hmmed a little and then looked up at Tabitha. “We cannot say how grateful we are for your service, Nurse Hale. Your professionalism and your character . . . You are filling a great need for us, and you are deserving of recognition.”

  Tabitha was flustered. “Um, I . . . I do not know what to say.”

  “You do not need to answer. Please just know that, with appreciative hearts, we thank you.”

  Tabitha left Matron Stiles’ office with unshed tears in her eyes. She sniffed, self-consciously, as she passed Miss Thompson, but her heart was full.

  ~~~

  Mason came next for Easter. It had been months since they had seen each other, and Tabitha was struck with how tired he appeared.

  “The war is going badly, Tabs,” he whispered. “I would snatch you up and take the first ship home—if I did not fear the journey or what my conscience would do to me if I abandoned our brave young pilots now.”

  Tabitha clutched his hands. “Tell me what is happening.”

  He shook his head, slowly. “Our young men do not last even two weeks. We train them for a month, send them up, and often on their first flight across to Belgium or France, they do not return to us. Our most seasoned pilot at present has exactly five weeks of experience.”

  “Mason!” Tabitha could not comprehend it.

  “The RFC is sending newer aeroplanes now. Cliff and I and the other trainers should see them soon. We must learn to fly them and operate the guns on them. We must learn to fight in these planes, Tabs, what they call ‘dog fights’—shooting at the German planes while diving down upon them or rolling over and over to escape their guns. The French know how to fight like this, but they cannot spare us trainers!”

  “Please tell me you will be careful, Mason,” Tabitha begged. “I cannot lose you!”

  “Sometimes in life we do not have the choice to be careful, Tabitha. When sudden events demand our response, we must act and pray we make the right call.” He sighed. “On that day, I pray I will make the right decision.”

  They visited St. Martin’s again together, bringing cake for the children. The children who remembered them from Christmas greeted them with shouts of “Hallo!” and “Did you bring presents?” When Carpenter revealed the three boxes of cake, the children were as pleased as they had been to receive Christmas gifts.

  “You are quite good to us, Mr. Carpenter,” Sister Mary Angela thanked him softly. “The blankets and pillows were a godsend during the cold winter months, but not nearly as much as the abundance of heating coal you provided.”

  Tabitha stared at Mason, stunned by Sister Mary Angela’s revelation, overcome again by the fresh revelation of Mason’s giving heart.

  “Thank you, Lord, for this good man,” she whispered.

  ~~~

  When Mason arrived in Colchester midsummer for his next visit, he begged her, “Please say we can marry now, Tabs. I know you cannot leave your duties and responsibilities and I will not ask you to. But is there no way we could marry anyway? Then I could dream of you at night knowing that you are mine and that we have a future together. Do say you will ask Matron, Tabitha?”

  Tabitha, too, was thinking along the same lines.

  For a long time after coming to Jesus, the idea of being with a man—any man—had angered her. Repulsed her. But her love for Carpenter was something she had never known. It was holy, good, and safe. She longed to be held in his arms, to belong fully to him, and he to her.

  “Yes. I will speak to Matron. I do not know what she will say or what rules could be turned, but I will ask.”

  “So you will marry me? Now? As soon as we can?”

  She swallowed, her happiness overflowing. “Yes, Mason. I would have us married at Palmer House, with our friends as witnesses, but I know they will understand.”

  Tabitha requested an interview with Matron Stiles the following day. “Matron, you are acquainted with Mr. Carpenter?”

  “Yes, Nurse Hale. Sister Alistair tells me good things about him regarding St. Martin’s.”

  Tabitha’s voice sank to a whisper. “Mr. Carpenter and I became engaged last year. In the fall.”

  “I see. I congratulate you,” Matron Stiles replied, but Tabitha thought her response measured, reluctant. “Does this mean we shall be losing you soon?”

  Tabitha understood. Ah! Lord, she thinks I will be leaving.

  “No, Matron; that is, not if I can help it. You see, we wish to marry soon, but we are both deeply committed to our work—his in Yorkshire and mine here.”

  The older woman relaxed. “I see. So . . . you are asking to marry, but you hope to continue on here? It would be something of a long-distance marriage?”

  “Yes, Matron. I know the rules state that nursing sisters cannot be married, and the VADs are also to be unmarried, but perhaps . . . an exception could be made?”

  “Yours is an interesting case, Nurse Hale.” Matron steepled her fingers and thought for a moment. “Would you allow me to consult Sister Alistair and, perhaps, Lady Perth-Lyon?”

  “Of course, Matron.”

  Two days later, Tabitha stood again in Matron’s office. Sister Alistair was also present. “Nurse Hale, may I reconfirm your intentions? You wish to marry Mr. Carpenter but retain your position with us?”

  “Yes, that is correct, Matron.”

  Matron cleared her throat. “Lady Perth-Lyon, Sister Alistair, and I agree tha
t for you to marry and remain at Colchester would, perhaps, send a damaging message to the VADs. High morale and complete dedication are, during these hard times, difficult to maintain.”

  “Yes, Matron. I understand.” Tabitha felt her heart sinking.

  “However . . .”

  Tabitha glanced up. “Yes?”

  “Sister Alistair has proposed something of a solution.”

  Tabitha looked to Sister Alistair.

  Sister Alistair’s expression was enigmatic. “My brother is the rector of Farring Cross, a small seaside village about fifty kilometers up the coast from here. Would you be willing to take the train to Farring Cross?”

  “Are you saying what I think you are saying?”

  “Yes. My brother would be willing to marry you and Mr. Carpenter. Quietly.”

  Tabitha glanced with hope toward Matron Stiles. “We could marry if we kept it a secret?”

  Matron inclined her head. “Lady Perth-Lyon agrees it would be the best solution. We would grant you a three-day pass to travel there by train . . . and to spend two nights before returning.”

  She looked away. “You are a great asset to us, Nurse Hale, but even darker days are ahead, I am afraid. More of our sisters will be posted to the front soon. I am convinced that sending well-trained VADs with them will be vital to our meeting the challenge.”

  Turning in her seat as though her muscles ached from sitting many long hours, Matron added, “We need your services to prepare the VADs for service at the front and to train their replacements. Are you willing to marry privately but keep your marriage undisclosed until such a time as wisdom allows us to acknowledge it?”

  Tabitha hesitated. “I will have to ask Mr. Carpenter if he is amenable to your suggestion.”

  “Certainly.”

  Tabitha, with Matron’s permission, used her telephone and asked the operator to place a call to Mason. She then waited impatiently in Matron’s antechamber for the call to go through and the operator to call her back.