Dancing in the Rain (15 page)

Carolyn glanced outside again. That was it!

“The way to heal a broken heart,” she said firmly, “is to go dancing in the rain.”

He stared at her, his eyes wide with disbelief. Surely it wasn’t her imagination that the look of despair had faded, even if only slightly. “Have you taken leave of your senses? We’ll catch our death of cold out there.”

Carolyn felt a bubble of hope begin to grow. He hadn’t refused. He was only being cautious. That was very, very good.

“No, we won’t,” she countered. “Come on.” She rose and tugged his hand, refusing to let go. He could have pulled it away; she knew that. But he did not, and that made the bubble expand again. Dwight wanted to be helped; he was going to let her help him.

A feeling of elation swept through Carolyn. It was more than the satisfaction that came from knowing she was useful. This was different. Somehow, though she couldn’t explain why, she felt as if every moment in her life had been leading up to this, and that whatever was happening, it was meant to be. The bubble of hope and happiness filled her. Perhaps it was wrong to feel as if they had crossed a threshold, as if something good were going to come out of today. Perhaps she should still be sharing Dwight’s pain. Instead, she felt as if he had been set free.

When they reached the courtyard, Carolyn started to hum the song that had been their practice tune. “Let’s dance,” she said. Though his face was somber, Dwight drew her into his arms and they began the steps of the Castle Gavotte.

The afternoon was frigid. The Christmas snow had disappeared, turning to cold, sticky mud. Rain was tumbling from the sky, driven sideways by the wind. Within seconds, Carolyn and Dwight were wet. Rain plastered their hair to their heads; mud splashed their legs. The wind howled around them. It was totally absurd to be dancing in the rain. They were cold and wet and this crazy therapy was doing nothing to help Dwight. Though he continued to dance, he said nothing, and his face was unnaturally calm, as though he were deliberately repressing every emotion. Carolyn kept a smile fixed on her face, though inwardly she was crying. If this didn’t work, what would she do?

She looked up at Dwight, willing him to see the ludicrousness of their situation. He looked back, steely-eyed. Then he laughed.

Carolyn felt as if her heart had sprouted wings.

“You should see yourself,” Dwight said, his lips turning up in the sweetest of smiles.

Carolyn didn’t care what she looked like if it made Dwight laugh. She could go through the rest of her life looking like a bedraggled orphan if that was what it took to bring joy to his face.

“Perhaps you aren’t aware that this is the height of fashion. Mud encrusted skirts and hair
au naturel
are all the rage in Paris.” She kept her voice light, hoping he didn’t see how thrilled she was by the sparkle that had returned to his eyes.

Dwight laughed again. “Whatever you call it, you’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Carolyn stared at him, bemused. This was the second time he had told her she was beautiful, and in both cases, she had sensed no flattery, merely a statement of fact. All her life, people had complimented her on her beauty, but never before had a man seen her looking like a drenched puppy and found her attractive. It was a heady thought. But that wasn’t what was important. What mattered was helping Dwight through the day.

“Keep dancing, Doctor Hollins,” she said, feigning a stern tone.

“Certainly, Nurse Clothespin.”

As she hummed, they continued to dance, laughing as the rain fell and the mud spattered. This was the craziest thing she had ever done, another of the impulsive acts her family had warned her against; and yet Carolyn could not regret a moment of it, for Dwight was laughing, his face more carefree than she had ever seen it.

“We can do better than that,” he told her as they completed a glide, stopping shorter than they did on a wooden floor. “Let’s try one of those long glides that you taught me.”

“Certainly, Doctor Hollins.” Carolyn would glide from here to Paris if that made him happy.

When they started the next glide, she took a long step. Afterwards, she wasn’t certain whether she had lost her balance or whether it was simply the slippery mud that caused her to slide. All Carolyn knew was that she started to fall. For a second, she was certain she would land face down in the mud in an ignominious ending to what should have been a graceful dance. As she started to tumble forward, strong arms grabbed her, and before she knew what was happening, she was once more upright, held in the circle of Dwight’s arms.

Carolyn looked up at him, intending to thank him, but the words died on her lips when she saw the expression in his eyes. Never had a man looked at her with that warmth. Never had a man made her feel as if she were the most precious being on earth. Never had a man’s regard caused her heart to skip a beat and then another and then a third.

She wasn’t sure how long they stood there, gazing at each other. It might have been a second. It might have been days. Carolyn didn’t care. Nothing mattered but Dwight and the wonderful smile she saw in his eyes and on his face. This was what she wanted: to make him happy.

She smiled. He smiled. And then he bent his head, and his lips touched hers. At first it was the lightest of kisses, no more than a feathering of her mouth. But then his embrace tightened, and his kiss deepened, and in that moment the rain and mud disappeared. For a moment in time, the world was perfect, a universe designed for two, a special place where nothing mattered but being in Dwight’s arms and feeling his lips on hers. It was magic, pure magic.

Chapter Nine

C
arolyn gave a sigh of relief as she opened the door to her room and saw that Helen was not there. Thank goodness! No matter how much she enjoyed her roommate’s company, right now she needed time alone. She didn’t need to look in a mirror to confirm that her cheeks were flushed, and her hands trembled as she filled the teakettle. Carolyn took a deep breath, willing her heart to stop pounding, then slipped off her shoes and peeled her mud-spattered stockings. If only she could calm her thoughts as easily as she brushed the mud from her skirts. But, though she tried every trick she knew, her mind continued to whirl faster than the merry-go-round she and Emily had ridden until their mother had insisted they’d be ill if they didn’t disembark.

When the tea was steeped, Carolyn poured herself a cup, then settled into Helen’s rocking chair and took a sip. As the warm liquid dispelled the chill that had permeated her bones, she began to relax. Carolyn closed her eyes and let the memories, as brightly colored as a kaleidoscope, continue to shift, each one bringing a new image. It had been crazy, dancing in the rain. She couldn’t deny that. She also could not deny that it had been the single most wonderful event of her life. While she was in Dwight’s arms, nothing else had mattered. For a few moments, she had been able to forget the reason they were in France and even the reason she had insisted they dance. For a few moments, they were simply a man and a woman, enjoying each other’s company.

Then Dwight had kissed her. The warmth that rose to Carolyn’s cheeks owed nothing to the steam rising from the tea. Carolyn stared at the rain that pelted against the windowpanes, remembering. Though other men had kissed her, she had never felt anything like Dwight’s kiss. The other kisses had been, at best, pleasant. They had not made her feel as if the world had stopped revolving. They had not caused her to believe she had been transported to a magic place. They had not been warm and comforting at the same time that they had sent shivers down her spine.

Carolyn encircled the cup with her left hand, trying to warm it, and as she did, she heard the soft clink of metal on china. Her ring! Blood drained from her face, and she started to tremble with shock. How could she have forgotten Ed for even a moment? It had been less than an hour since she had condemned Louise for deserting her fiancé. What was wrong with her that she had reacted the way she had? Carolyn bit her lip. Everyone said she was impulsive. She wouldn’t deny that that was sometimes true, but she was not irresponsible. Of course she had shivered. What woman wouldn’t shiver if she were standing in the rain? As for the strange warmth she had experienced, that had been generated by satisfaction that she had accomplished what she intended: she had helped Dwight forget Louise’s rejection, if only for a few minutes.

Carolyn nodded, reassured. It was good to know that there was a perfectly logical explanation for what she had felt, just as there was a perfectly logical reason why Dwight had kissed her. A woman didn’t need an advanced degree to find that reason. Dwight was vulnerable, as any man would be when he had been rejected by the woman he intended to marry. Being jilted was like a physical blow; it created wounds. Some men would lash out, trying to cauterize those wounds with anger. But Dwight was a healer. Rather than a harsh cure, he had sought a soothing balm. That was why he had kissed Carolyn. It wasn’t that he had any special feelings for her. She had been like the unguent he used on burn victims, a medicine that helped the healing process. She was the salve that he used to prove to himself that at least one woman would not reject him. That was the only reason he had kissed Carolyn.

As for her own reaction, and the way her heart continued to beat faster when she thought of Dwight’s embrace, there was a logical reason for that too. It was nothing more than propinquity. Carolyn had heard about shipboard romances, and she had been warned that patients sometimes imagined themselves in love with a nurse simply because they spent so much time together. This was like that. No! Carolyn shook her head so violently that tea splashed onto her saucer. She was wrong, completely wrong. What she felt for Dwight was not and would never be a romance of any kind. It couldn’t be. More importantly, she wouldn’t let it be, for she did not want to think of Dwight in any romantic context. The reason was simple. Though he might no longer be engaged, she was.

When the war ended, Carolyn was going to marry Ed. They would return to Canela and live happily ever after. In the meantime, Carolyn knew what she had to do. She would not think about Dwight’s kiss, and she would make certain that it was never, ever repeated. Surely she could do that.

Carolyn was staring at the wall, wondering why the future seemed so bleak, when she heard footsteps in the hallway. She forced a smile onto her face, hoping it didn’t look as artificial as it felt.
Please,
she prayed silently,
don’t let anyone have seen us.
Carolyn didn’t think she could bear the teasing that was sure to ensue if anyone knew she had kissed Dwight Hollins. The patients had joked about marriage before. They’d be unstoppable if they had seen Carolyn and Dwight’s dance and the way it had ended.

Carolyn bit the inside of her lip, reminding herself that she was going to forget that kiss had happened. She needed to start that … immediately.

“There you are.” Helen’s smile looked normal as she hung up her cloak and poured herself a cup of tea. She chatted about her day, not seeming to notice that Carolyn made few replies. Fortunately, Helen said nothing about Carolyn or Dwight or the fact that two crazy people had danced in the rain. Settling in the chair across from Carolyn, Helen reached into her pocket and held out an envelope.

“Was there a second mail call?” Though unusual, it was not unheard of.

Helen shook her head and took a sip of tea. “No. It must have stuck to someone else’s letter. I was in the wards when one of the patients asked me to give it to you.”

Carolyn smiled as she recognized Ed’s handwriting. She would read his letter later, when she was once again alone, and then she would write him a long, newsy letter. Perhaps she would remind him of the time they had crawled under a hedge, thinking it would shelter them from the rain, only to emerge both wet and covered with scratches. That was what she would remember when it rained, Carolyn resolved, not the totally inappropriate embrace that had occurred today.

“You look positively radiant,” she told Helen. Though it was true, Carolyn made the comment as much to keep herself from thinking about how she had spent this rainy afternoon as from a desire to compliment her roommate. “Am I right in assuming that the bloom in your cheeks was caused by mail from Glen?”

Helen nodded. “He hasn’t seemed this happy since the war started.” She looked down at her stomach. “He told me the baby gives him another reason to stay alive.”

“That’s important.” Carolyn knew all about giving soldiers reasons to be extra careful; after all, that was the reason she had agreed to marry Ed, although she would never tell him or anyone else that. But she didn’t want to think about Ed or marriage right now. “How are you feeling?” she asked. Helen’s morning sickness seemed to have stopped, and she now had an insatiable appetite.

“I’m feeling fat.” Helen patted her stomach.

“You don’t look fat.” Though her uniforms were a bit tighter than they had been a month ago, Helen’s increasing girth was barely noticeable.

“It won’t be long now before my condition is obvious.” Helen opened a tin of shortbread and offered Carolyn a piece. “You’ve heard about mixed blessings, haven’t you?” she asked. “The baby is one of them. I’m excited about being a mother, but I don’t want to leave here. Does that sound odd—someone who doesn’t want to leave a war zone?” Helen wrinkled her nose as if in disgust over her own ambivalence. “The problem is,” she said, her words more clipped than usual, “going back to England means that I’ll be further from Glen. Besides, I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” Carolyn doubted any other roommate would be as congenial as Helen. She had been fortunate, sharing a room with Helen.

“When the war is over, you and Ed will have to visit us.”

Though Carolyn nodded, she had difficulty imaging herself and Ed at the Guthries’ home. Helen had described it in such detail that Carolyn could picture herself there. She could even imagine herself walking through the boxwood maze, a man at her side. The difficulty arose when she looked at the man and realized he wasn’t her fiancé. He looked like … No! She wouldn’t think about
him.