Dancing in the Rain (13 page)

“Merry Christmas, gentlemen!” Dwight called as they entered the ward. Carolyn made a deep curtsey, pretending she was a debutante in a receiving line. In truth, it wasn’t difficult to pretend, for today was such a special day that she could almost convince herself she was back home, planning to dance at the Canela Country Club.

“You came!” A smile lit Corporal Seymour’s face.

“Of course we did.” Carolyn walked to the injured man’s bed and gave him a special smile while Dwight set up the Victrola that he’d found somewhere in the hospital. By some miracle, there was even a platter with music suitable for the gavotte. “A promise is a promise.”

Dwight cranked the Victrola. As the music began, he held out his arms, and Carolyn moved into them. They weren’t as graceful as Irene and Vernon Castle; Dwight barely missed her toes twice, and she turned a second too early for one of the twirls. And yet, though it was not a flawless performance, Carolyn knew she had never enjoyed a dance more. It felt wonderful being in Dwight’s arms, moving with him in time to the music. And when the phonograph wound down and the dance ended, Carolyn wasn’t sure what pleased her more, the men’s applause or the expression she saw in Dwight’s eyes. There was warmth and approval and something else, something she could not identify.

“Can you come back tonight and do it again?” Corporal Seymour asked.

Dwight looked at her, as if waiting for her decision. When she nodded, he said, “Of course,” and led her to the next ward.

By the time they had danced for all the patients, Carolyn’s feet were more tired than if she had spent a day standing in the operating room, and her cheeks almost ached from smiling. Yet she would not have traded the experience for anything. Christmas was a day for giving, and today more than any Christmas in her memory, Carolyn felt as if she had been blessed with the ability to give. Today she had been more than the decorative Wentworth daughter; she had been useful.

As if he understood what she was thinking, Dwight said, “This hasn’t been like any Christmas I’ve ever spent, and yet …” His voice trailed off, and she wondered what he had started to say.

“I loved watching the men’s faces. For a few minutes, they looked almost happy.” And she had been part of the reason they were happy. How wonderful! Carolyn touched Dwight’s arm. “I hope you didn’t mind the dancing too much.”

He laid his hand on top of hers, and the warmth sent a frisson up her arm. What was it about this man that his lightest touch made her react so strongly? “I hated the idea at first,” Dwight admitted, “but now I realize that what I was taught in medical school is true. There’s more to healing than setting bones. We need to heal men’s spirits, too.” His eyes were sober as he looked down at Carolyn. “If jokes and dancing help the men, let’s do it more often.”

Carolyn’s smile was tremulous as she realized that Dwight was telling her he approved of her unconventional methods of dealing with the patients. What a wonderful gift he’d just given her!

By the time Carolyn and Dwight had finished dancing, the kitchen staff was ready to serve dinner. Though they were limited by the shortage of many foods, the cooks had done their best to make the meal a memorable one. Carolyn noticed that today no one complained about the canned tomatoes, because when they were placed next to the spinach, they made the plates look festive. And when the meal was over, the cooks presented each man with a gingerbread star bearing his name. Amidst the caroling and the cheering, Carolyn saw more than one man give his eyes a furtive wipe.

After the men were taken back to their wards, Carolyn and Dwight returned to distribute her clothespins and to dance a second time. If the men had seemed appreciative in the morning, they were more so now, and though her feet ached, Carolyn’s heart was light. This was why she had come to France, to make a difference—even if only a tiny one. She said a silent prayer for Ed and Theo and all the other soldiers, hoping that someone was giving them a few moments of happiness today.

When they had returned the Victrola to the storeroom on the third floor, Carolyn turned to Dwight. The storeroom was crowded and dusty, the air musty from dampness and disuse. It was one of the least attractive rooms in the chateau, and yet it was the one place where Carolyn knew they would not be interrupted. Perhaps she should not have been so nervous. After all, the future of the world did not depend on Dwight’s reaction. But though Carolyn told herself it wouldn’t matter if Dwight didn’t like his gift, she did not succeed in convincing herself.

“Merry Christmas,” she said, her hands trembling as she pulled the final gift from her bag.

“Merry Christmas, Carolyn,” he said at the same moment, handing her a wrapped box.

Carolyn stared at the package, surprised that Dwight, who admitted that he hated shopping, had bought her a gift. “I didn’t expect anything,” she said. The gift she had chosen for him was a token, designed to ensure that he had at least one package to open. Carolyn wasn’t certain whether his family had sent gifts or if he’d asked them not to.

“I hope you like it.” There was a note of uncertainty in his voice that touched Carolyn’s heart. The man who was so confident in the operating room was just as vulnerable as she.

She unwrapped the box, then gasped as she removed the lid. “I can’t accept this.” Though the light in the room was dim, there was no mistaking the gleam of gold.

“Don’t you like it?” Dwight asked, and again she heard concern in his voice. She didn’t want to hurt him, but …

“It’s beautiful, Dwight.” Carolyn looked at him, hoping he’d understand. “I just can’t accept anything so expensive. It wouldn’t be right.” For he had given her the enameled brooch that she had seen in the jewelry store, the one he had been certain Louise would not like. This was a gift for a fiancée or a wife, not an acquaintance.

“Don’t tell me your grandmother wouldn’t approve,” Dwight said with a little smile. “You know I won’t believe that.”

Carolyn’s grandmother would not have approved, nor would her mother, or even her sister Martha. A lady simply did not accept a gift of such value. Flowers, books and candy were acceptable. Anything else put the woman’s reputation in jeopardy. Carolyn shook her head. “Granny would not have approved.”

But Dwight was clearly not convinced. “I bought this for you, and I want you to have it.” Before Carolyn could protest again, he said, “If it eases your conscience or your sense of propriety or whatever it is that’s bothering you, why don’t you consider it a thank you for all the help you’ve given me?”

His eyes were shadowed with pain, and Carolyn heard the vulnerability in his voice again. She couldn’t hurt him, not on this special day. No matter how inappropriate it was to accept such a valuable gift, she would not refuse it. “This is the most beautiful piece of jewelry I’ve ever received,” she said, pinning the brooch onto her dress. The delicate gold and enamel sparkled against the red silk. Even more importantly, Dwight’s eyes sparkled. “Thank you, Dwight.” She looked at the box he still held. “I’m afraid your gift is not so magnificent.” When she had bought it, she had thought he might like it. Now, she wasn’t so certain.

Dwight tore the paper from the box, then laughed when he saw that Carolyn had given him a tin of English toffees. Though Dwight had once mentioned that he liked toffee, the contents were not the reason she had selected the gift. The tin itself was, for it had a picture of a dancing couple painted on its top. When Carolyn had seen it, she had thought of Dwight and their dancing lessons. Though this couple appeared to be more graceful than she and Dwight, when Carolyn looked closely at the painting, it seemed that the man was frowning, as if he were enduring rather than enjoying the dance. Carolyn had laughed in the store and again when she wrapped the gift. She hoped Dwight would laugh when he saw it.

He did. Dwight laughed, and then he laughed again. Reaching forward, he clasped Carolyn’s hand. “Oh, Carolyn,” he said, his eyes filled with happiness. “You’ve given me the most wonderful Christmas present I’ve ever received.”

“A tin of toffees?” Though there was no doubting the sincerity of his words, Carolyn couldn’t believe that was his favorite gift.

Dwight shook his head. “You might think it’s a tin of toffees, but it’s more than that.” He raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss on it. “You’ve given me the gift of laughter. Thank you, my dear.”

Chapter Eight

H
e didn’t mean anything by it. She knew that. The kiss was nothing more than a polite gesture, a type of greeting men used to employ. It had no more significance than his final words had. That had been a casual endearment, a phrase he would have used with any girl, especially on Christmas Day. When he called her “my dear,” Dwight meant nothing more than the soldiers did when they addressed Carolyn as “sweetie.”

Only a foolish woman would believe that there had been anything more, anything … romantic about Dwight’s words or his kiss. Carolyn wasn’t his dear any more than she was the patients’ sweetie. She was simply Nurse Wentworth, who assisted Dr. Hollins in surgery, who had taught him to dance, and who occasionally made him laugh. That was all, and she would do well to remember it.

Carolyn stood at the window, staring into the distance. The rain had turned to snow, and though one of the cooks was predicting that it would change back to rain by morning, Carolyn enjoyed the sparkle of moonlight on the newly fallen snow. It was part of the magic of this special day.

She touched the brooch Dwight had given her, her fingers tingling as they traced the outline of the delicate flowers. She hadn’t exaggerated when she had told Dwight that it was the most beautiful piece of jewelry she owned. Reluctantly she unpinned it and placed it back in the box. Though she felt a bit like Cinderella must have when the ball ended, the day was over, and it was time to put her finery away.

As she closed the jewelry box, Carolyn’s gaze fell on her left hand, and she felt her cheeks flush. How silly of her to think that the floral brooch was the most beautiful piece of jewelry she owned! Her engagement ring was the most wonderful gift she had ever received. Of course it was. How could she forget the pride and the love that she had seen on Ed’s face the day he had slipped it onto her hand? Ed was the most important man in her life; he was the reason she was here in France, and she would do well to remember that too.

But her dreams were troubled, and when she awakened, Carolyn’s head ached. If only the war were over. If she were home, surely she would not dream of a brown-haired man who kissed her hand and called her dear.

She was pulling on her stockings when the door opened. “Welcome back!” Carolyn jumped to her feet and hugged Helen as she entered the room. Carolyn was thankful Helen had returned. Maybe now she would be able to think rationally. Terms of endearment, kisses, and pieces of jewelry were subjects almost as dangerous as No Man’s Land. She needed to surround them with barbed wire as a reminder to keep her distance.

Helen tossed her valise on the floor and unpinned her hat. “How was your Christmas?” she asked, the satisfied smile on her face telling Carolyn Helen’s holiday had been everything she had hoped.

“It was a very pleasant day,” Carolyn said. She would not think about Dwight’s parting words and gesture or the extravagant gift that was now hidden in a bureau drawer. “The men seemed to enjoy watching us dance.” That was what was important, not the parts of the day that she was trying to banish from her memory. Deliberately changing the subject, she asked Helen how Glen had reacted to the news of their impending parenthood.

“He’s thrilled!” Helen’s face glowed with happiness, and Carolyn felt a twinge of sadness as she wondered whether she would ever be as happy as Helen, secure in her husband’s love and the knowledge that they were going to have a baby.

“It seems like a miracle,” Helen continued. “We’ve waited so long, and now all our dreams are coming true. If only this war would end.”

Carolyn shook herself mentally, ashamed of her momentary jealousy. Helen and Glen deserved every minute of happiness they could find, and she was a poor friend if she begrudged them even a second of it, simply because she was not so fortunate. She should be thankful that her family’s house bore a blue star in one window, the visible reminder that Theo was in the armed forces, and that that star had not been replaced with a gold one. Far too many families had spent this Christmas knowing that gold stars and folded flags would be their final memory of loved ones.

“Did Glen have any news?” Carolyn asked. Though the censors would not let them mention anything in their letters, men at the front sometimes heard about planned offensives or the progress of the war, while the staff in the hospital were among the last to learn what was happening.

When she saw Helen’s expression, Carolyn was sorry she had asked the question. “He’s worried about something big. There are rumors that Pershing has some secret plan that’s going to crush the enemy. But no one knows anything for certain. You know how rumors are.” Helen’s attempt to smile failed.

“Ninety percent are false.”

Though Helen nodded, her lower lip trembled. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Glen.” She shuddered and closed her eyes. “This war has to end!”

“It will,” Carolyn said with more confidence than she felt. In his last letter, Ed had told her that the more cynical of the veteran soldiers believed that the war would never end, that—like the changing seasons—war would be an accepted part of the natural order. A month ago, Carolyn would have said that was unthinkable, but now the unthinkable was being discussed. Surely it would not become reality!

Two weeks later Carolyn was thankful she had not opened her mail in the dining room. Most of the staff and the ambulatory patients were so excited to receive letters that they ripped them open and read them wherever mail was delivered. Carolyn had never done that, preferring instead to take the precious epistles back to her room and savor them in privacy. Normally she chuckled at the stories her sisters recounted, smiled at Ed’s tales of his fellow soldiers’ attempts to tame the all too common rats, and laughed at Theo’s quirky sense of humor. Today she blinked back tears.