Dancing in the Rain (19 page)

Carolyn’s eyes were clouded with pain as she said, “I may not have pulled the pin on the grenade, but I was responsible.”

Dwight covered her hand with his other one, stroking it gently. “You’re not making sense,” he said as calmly as he could. “Why do you think you’re responsible?”

Carolyn was silent for a long moment, her eyes searching his, asking a question that he could not identify. Did she think he would condemn her? No matter what she believed, he knew that she was innocent of Ed’s death.

“Ed walked into danger deliberately. He wanted to be a hero. I knew that, and I tried to convince him to be sensible, but my letter didn’t get to him in time. I failed him!”

Dwight wondered how many other women harbored this fear, that somehow they had contributed to their loved ones’ deaths. “Carolyn, every man wants to be a hero, especially in the eyes of the woman he loves. I would venture to say that Ed wanted you to be proud of him, and that’s why he volunteered. It wasn’t a death wish. Ed had every reason to live.” Dwight knew that if Carolyn loved him and had agreed to marry him, he would do everything humanly possible to ensure that he came back to her. Life with Carolyn would be the “happily ever after” that every man wanted. No one would willingly forfeit that.

“But what if … ?” Carolyn’s voice was low, fervent, and so filled with pain that Dwight knew he would do anything in his power to ease that pain. “What if Ed knew I didn’t love him?” When Dwight started to interrupt, Carolyn held up her free hand, stopping him. “What if,” she asked, “Ed realized that I love you?”

Her words hit him with the force of a blow to the solar plexus, and for a second Dwight was unable to speak. Carolyn loved him! How many nights had he dreamed that he heard her speaking those words, only to wake, knowing that was one dream that would never come true? Carolyn’s love had been a fantasy he had clung to in the dark hours after midnight when the future had seemed bleak. It had been a dream he had never dared to speak aloud, lest he somehow destroy his last chance at happiness. And yet, despite all odds, here was Carolyn, saying the words that would turn this cursed war from the worst to the best part of his life.

Dwight, the man who planned his future as if it were a military campaign, did one of the first impulsive acts of his adult life. Without stopping to think, he took both of Carolyn’s hands in his and smiled at her. “I love you, too,” he said. Her only reaction was a widening of her eyes as if in disbelief. Did she somehow think that he was saying this only to comfort her? She was wrong. He loved her, and he had wanted to tell her so for weeks.

Dwight slipped to the floor and knelt in front of Carolyn. “Sweetheart, this may not seem like the right time, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned from this war, it’s that each day is precious and that we shouldn’t waste a single chance at happiness.” She stared at him, almost as if he were speaking a foreign language. He had to make her understand. It was vital that she knew how he felt. Dwight took a deep breath, then blurted out, “I love you, Carolyn. Will you marry me?”

The remaining color drained from her face, but there was no hesitation as she said, “I can never marry you, Dwight. Never!”

Chapter Eleven

C
arolyn frowned as she prepared for another day of work by slipping her feet into the rubber boots that had become a permanent part of her wardrobe since her transfer to the field hospital. She had wanted a change, and she had gotten exactly that. Though she and Helen had complained about the cramped conditions at the Goudot base hospital, they seemed palatial compared to the casualty clearing station. While the shortage of coal had meant that the Goudot mansion had been cold, at least it was dry. Here the staff dealt with rain and the inevitable mud as well as cold. They lived in tents. They ate in tents. They operated in tents. And those tents had no floors. As a result, the staff stood in ankle deep mud as they removed fragments of bones and shrapnel, trying to stanch bleeding and suture wounds. It was, Carolyn reflected as she hurried toward the large tent that served as the operating theater, a miracle that anyone survived the primitive conditions.

The only good thing she could say about life so close to the front was that she was almost too busy to grieve. Almost. The work was more physically demanding than in Goudot, the hours longer. By the time she returned to the tent that she shared with five other nurses, Carolyn was always exhausted. By all rights, she should have slept well. And yet she did not. For her nights were disturbed by dreams that left her trembling, certain that nothing in this world would ever again be right, that the horrible emptiness that plagued her days would never disappear.

It should have been different. Though nursing was difficult, it was also rewarding. Carolyn and the doctors who fought death so valiantly were making a difference. One at a time, they were saving men’s lives, and that was what was important. That was why she had come to France.

Carolyn slogged through the mud, trying not to think of the men they had not been able to save. It was normal, she knew, to have a higher mortality rate in the field hospitals than in base operations like Goudot. That it was understandable was no consolation, for Carolyn could not think in terms of mortality rates. These were men who should not have died. Though the politicians might claim that the cause was glorious, each time a soldier breathed his last, Carolyn thought of the loved ones whose lives would never be the same. Each time, she thought of Ed, and each time, she worried that Theo might be next.

Carolyn drew her coat tighter, wishing the rain would stop. Perhaps if the sun shone, her sorrow would lessen. Martha had told her that while her grief might never disappear, it would begin to subside. Her sister ought to know, for she had lost her husband in this horrible war.
Work helps,
Martha had written, when she had learned of Ed’s death. That was the reason Martha herself had returned to teaching when her husband had died.

But work wasn’t helping Carolyn. She felt as though all the sparkle had vanished from her life. She had lost not just Ed but also her sense of purpose. Though she tried to smile for the men, remembering how her humor had helped so many patients face surgery, Carolyn found that her jokes fell flat. She couldn’t muster the energy to invent another of her grandmother’s homilies, and she hadn’t even laughed when she saw the clothespin that Helen had hidden between her uniforms when she unpacked her bag.

Ed wouldn’t want you to grieve,
Theo had written when the fighting had subsided and he had once again been able to write letters. Her brother was right. Unfortunately, knowing that did not stop Carolyn from mourning for the friend whose life had been cut short. She had reread Ed’s letters so many times that she could quote whole passages.
All I want is for you to be happy,
he had told her. It was ironic, Carolyn reflected, that she and Ed had each sought the other’s happiness, and they had both failed. Ed was gone. As for Carolyn, she wasn’t happy, and she feared that she never again would be.

Carolyn opened the flap and entered the operating tent, trying not to gag at the stench of burned flesh and men’s fears. If only the war would end! Then this horrible suffering would be over. Then she and the men could return home and rebuild their lives. It wouldn’t be easy for any of them, but Carolyn was convinced they would succeed. Martha had done it; she could, too. Wordlessly, Carolyn took her place at the operating table, assisting one of the young doctors who, though skilled, did not seem as talented as Dwight.

Dwight. Carolyn cringed. He was another reason she wanted the war to end. Surely once she was back in Canela, she would be able to forget Dwight and the way he had looked when she refused his offer of marriage. She would be able to forget the sight of those hazel eyes darkened with pain and the frown that had crossed Dwight’s face when she had repeated the word “never.” At home she would be able to forget the longing and hopelessness she had seen in his expression the day she had left Goudot.

Carolyn handed the doctor a sponge. Though her hands moved mechanically, her thoughts continued to whirl, and despite her efforts, she could not prevent herself from thinking of Dwight and his unexpected proposal. At the time, she had not been certain who was more shocked by the impulsive gesture, herself or Dwight. She had stared at him, not quite believing her ears, but he had assured her that his question was not an act of chivalry, designed to heal her wounds. Dwight was serious. He wanted her to marry him. That was the problem. Carolyn couldn’t marry Dwight. Not today, not ever. Marrying him would be the ultimate betrayal of Ed.

It was bad enough that she was afraid Ed had suspected how she felt about Dwight. Though Carolyn no longer believed that Ed had deliberately sought death, she was still plagued with guilt that she hadn’t been able to love him the way he deserved to be loved. Ed had been a fine man, her neighbor and her best friend. He had deserved more than she had given him. Though she couldn’t change what had happened, she wouldn’t make mockery of her promises. She wouldn’t marry anyone, especially not Dwight.

Carolyn stared at the patient before her. A faint smile crossed his face, as if whatever he dreamed under the anesthesia was pleasant. Unbidden, her thoughts turned to the memory of Dwight’s face the day they had danced in the rain. He had been filled with both sorrow and skepticism when they began the dance. By the end he was smiling, a full-fledged grin, far different from the soldier’s smile. Dwight had smiled at her, and then … Ruthlessly, Carolyn refused to remember how the dance had ended. There was no point in dwelling on something that should never have happened and which would never, ever be repeated.

As Carolyn helped the doctor bandage the patient’s wound, Carolyn thought back to the days when she and Dwight had treated other men. Then she had felt satisfaction and even a sense of victory when they were able to save a severely wounded soldier. Now she felt nothing other than grief. That was another reason she could not consider marrying Dwight. Not only would it be a betrayal of Ed, but it would also be unfair to Dwight.

Dwight was a wonderful man. There was no denying that. But he was also a man who deserved a whole woman, not the empty shell Carolyn had become. They could never be together. They
would
never be together. If only she could stop dreaming of him!

If only he could stop dreaming of her! Dwight pulled a clean uniform out of the armoire and began to dress. There had been a time when he had whistled while he prepared for another day of surgery. There had been a time when even the rain had not been able to dampen his spirits. Now the days stretched in a monotonous chain. They were something to be endured, not anticipated. So much had changed, and it was his fault. He should have known better than to give into impulse. Look what his hasty words had caused: the loss of the best nurse he’d ever had. Though they tried, none of the other nurses was as competent as Carolyn. They waited for his orders rather than anticipating them, and while they tried to comfort the patients, their words fell short of Carolyn’s little jokes that had proven so soothing.

Surgery had become an ordeal, a battle against death made all the more difficult by the absence of one of Dwight’s most powerful weapons: Carolyn’s laughter. Visiting the wards was almost as bad, for the patients seemed morose, and those who had known Carolyn asked when she would return, as if they realized that he was responsible for her leaving. The soldiers’ mood only deepened Dwight’s guilt. How could he have been so stupid? With just a few words, he had driven Carolyn away. He had heard that Miss Pierce had advised Carolyn not to accept the transfer to the field hospital, telling her she needed the continuity of a familiar setting to help her heal, but Carolyn had been adamant. The reason, Dwight knew, wasn’t hard to find. He had given her a second shock at a time when she was already deeply wounded. No wonder she had fled. She wanted to distance herself from the source of pain.

Dwight buttoned his shirt and reached for his hairbrush. He hoped Carolyn was in less pain now, for he certainly was not. Though the days were awful, they paled compared to the nights. The double shifts he had been working should have guaranteed dreamless sleep. Instead the only thing that seemed to be guaranteed was that he would dream of Carolyn. Though the dreams varied, the aftermath did not. He would waken, filled with longing. He wanted to see her smile, to hear her laugh, and to hold her in his arms again.

Frowning, Dwight wielded the brush with more force than normal. This wasn’t what he had planned. Dwight Hollins, the man who had developed a detailed schedule for his life, had never expected to fall in love with a woman like Carolyn. He had believed that the perfect wife for him would be a woman like Louise, a woman who would never invent a grandmother and who would never, ever wear a clothespin on her nose.

Carolyn was all wrong for him. He knew that. But he also knew that it was pointless to deny that the time he had spent with her made everything else in his life seem to pale in comparison. When he was with Carolyn, he felt alive. And now … Now he felt as if some vital part of him were missing.

He was a physician. As such, he knew the impossibility of hearts breaking or being lost. Those were poetic metaphors that he had scorned from the first time he had heard them. Dwight Hollins would never lose his heart. It would never break. Those were incontrovertible facts. What was also incontrovertible was the fact that he felt as if his heart had been wrenched from his body and that the only way he would once again be a whole man would be if Carolyn returned.

Grabbing his hat, Dwight strode across the courtyard toward the dining room. Though he had no appetite, he knew the folly of trying to operate without adequate nourishment. Still, he hated entering a room where he and Carolyn had once laughed together. Here, even more than in the operating theater, was where she had tried to convince him that laughter was an important part of life. He hadn’t wanted to believe her. Laughter, he had thought, was frivolous, as unnecessary as an appendix. Now he realized the truth of Carolyn’s words. She was right. Laughter was essential. And if he was going to have laughter in his life, he needed Carolyn.