Dancing in the Rain (5 page)

“I don’t think that would bother her.” Though the worried look on Helen’s face told Carolyn how unusual it was for Miss Pierce to be angry, her roommate put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Do you want me to go with you?”

Carolyn shook her head. “Whatever it is, I need to face her alone.”

But when Carolyn entered Miss Pierce’s office, she discovered that the head nurse was not alone. The gray-haired woman who had been so kind to her on her first day in Goudot sat behind her desk, her hands folded in front of her. On the opposite side of the desk, his back to the door, sat the man whose image had disturbed far too many of Carolyn’s dreams. She felt her heart skip a beat. That was surely caused by apprehension over what Miss Pierce would say, not by the sight of the head nurse’s visitor. There was no reason he or any man other than Ed should make her heart race.

Dwight Hollins rose to his feet and inclined his head in a gesture that Carolyn could only describe as regal. His expression was impassive, confirming her belief that the man would never show emotion.

“I would like you to clarify something for us,” Miss Pierce said, her voice laced with asperity. She gave Carolyn an assessing look that made her feel she was under a roentgen machine and that Miss Pierce was examining not only her bones but her very thoughts. It was a decidedly uncomfortable feeling.

The head nurse raised one eyebrow. “Dr. Hollins believes that you assisted him in surgery several days ago. I assured him that he was mistaken, but he would like to hear that from you.”

Carolyn turned toward the doctor. This was worse than the clothespin. No wonder Miss Pierce was angry. Carolyn’s charade had been uncovered, and she would be sent home in disgrace. Though she was tempted to lie, the realization that that was the act of a coward stopped her. Whatever else she was, Carolyn was not a coward. She might be impulsive; people might consider her flighty. She wouldn’t deny either accusation, but she was neither a liar nor a coward.

“Dr. Hollins is not mistaken,” she said firmly. Though her words were directed to the head nurse, Carolyn kept her eyes fixed on the doctor. He had gotten her into this predicament. She wanted to see his reaction. Undoubtedly he would laugh at her discomfiture.

It happened so quickly that Carolyn thought she might have been the one who was mistaken, but when the action was repeated, she knew her eyes had not deceived her. Dwight’s lips had started to twitch, as if he were tempted to smile. How dare he gloat at her?

It was Miss Pierce who spoke. “How is that possible?” she demanded, her voice frosty. “I did not assign you to the operating room.”

This time Carolyn turned to the nurse. “No, you did not,” she agreed. “One of the nurses was too ill to work.” Deliberately Carolyn did not mention Helen’s name. There was nothing to be gained by involving her friend. “That day we had an unusually high number of wounded. Since there was no one else to help Dr. Hollins, I did what I could.”

As she spoke, Carolyn saw the color rise in the other woman’s cheeks. If Miss Pierce had been angry before, she was furious now. Her face was almost as red as the Red Cross insignia she wore on her cap and left arm.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Hollins,” Miss Pierce said, her hands clenched as she rose from behind her desk. “I can promise you that this will never happen again.”

Carolyn darted a glance at the doctor, expecting to see him gloating. This must be his way of repaying her for the clothespin episode. Instead, he gave her a look that appeared to be almost conspiratorial. That wasn’t possible, of course. Dwight Hollins had no reason to be conspiring with her.

“To the contrary,” he said, fixing his gaze on Miss Pierce, “I expect it to happen regularly. I expect Miss Wentworth to assist me whenever I’m in the operating room. Find someone else to take over her other duties. I need her.”

“But, Doctor,” Miss Pierce protested, her voice seething with anger. “This is highly irregular.”

It wasn’t Carolyn’s imagination. She was sure it wasn’t a figment that the room crackled with tension and that Miss Pierce was regarding Dwight Hollins with barely controlled hostility. In all likelihood, this was the first time anyone had challenged the head nurse’s authority.

Dwight nodded ever so slightly, as if acknowledging the truth of Miss Pierce’s words. “Perhaps my request is irregular, but so, too, is war. Now, unless Miss Wentworth would prefer to empty bedpans, I see no reason that she should not serve as my assistant.”

Though the color in the head nurse’s cheeks remained high, her voice was once more gentle when she addressed Carolyn. “The choice is yours, Carolyn. If you’re going to work in the operating room, I’ll see to it that you are given additional training. The question is, do you want to assist Dr. Hollins?”

It was clear that Miss Pierce expected a negative response. Carolyn shifted her gaze to the doctor. He stood there, waiting for her decision. She ought to refuse, if only to show the man that not everyone would bend to his will. But the memory of his saying “I need her” was too fresh. This was why Carolyn had come to France—to be useful.

“I’ll do it,” she said.

Miss Pierce’s lips thinned. “Very well, Doctor. You’ve gotten your way … again. Come with me, Carolyn.”

When she returned to their room and told Helen what had happened, her roommate was incredulous. “I can’t believe that you agreed!” Helen lit the gas ring and set the kettle on it. When she had adjusted the flame, she turned back to Carolyn. “There’s not a single nurse who would willingly work for that man. All he does is complain about us and tell us we’re incompetent.” Helen spooned tea into the pot, then gave Carolyn an appraising look. “What did you do differently from us?”

It was the question Carolyn had asked herself countless times as Miss Pierce tutored her on operating room protocol. What had she done that the real nurses had not?

“I have no idea. If anything, I would have said that I irritated him.” Carolyn remembered how the doctor had glowered when she curtseyed to the patients and how his frown had deepened each time she had smiled. “I don’t know why he thinks I can help him.” Carolyn unpinned her cap and ran her fingers through her hair, grateful that she had a short bob like the famous dancer Irene Castle. Long hair like Helen’s was more difficult to care for, especially in the rain. “I hated surgery,” Carolyn continued. “Dr. Hollins had to have realized that.”

“That assumes that the man paid any attention to what you were feeling.” Helen took a step toward Carolyn. “If you hated surgery that much, why did you agree?”

The answer was simple. “To help the men. How could I possibly say no?” If Theo and Ed could fight to make the world safe for democracy, Carolyn could do her best to save the lives of those who were wounded.

A smile quirked Helen’s lips. “I could say no to working with Hollow Heart. The man makes me so nervous that I forget everything I learned in nursing school.”

Carolyn shrugged. “He doesn’t make me nervous; he just irritates me.” Carolyn thought of the look he’d given her when she hadn’t recognized a scalpel and how that condescending expression had spurred her. “This may sound peculiar, but somehow he makes me determined to prove that I’m competent.” She reached for her clothes brush. Though she couldn’t sweep away the memory of how the doctor had wanted to laugh at her discomfort in Miss Pierce’s office, she could brush the mud from her skirts. “Dwight Hollins is without a doubt the most annoying man I’ve ever met.” The words came out more forcefully than she had intended.

Helen blinked, then gave Carolyn a long look. “I wonder if …” Her eyes fell to Carolyn’s left hand and the diamond that sparkled on her ring finger. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s too far-fetched.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” But Helen’s words were not convincing.

Chapter Four

“G
ood afternoon, gentlemen.” Though she kept what she hoped looked like a carefree smile fixed on her face, Carolyn scanned the room, trying to judge the patients’ mood. When she had visited them two days earlier, they had seemed cheerful. Today, despite the rays of sunshine that lit the room, there was a palpable gloom. The reason, Carolyn guessed, was the empty bed by the window. The damage to Private Rogers’ lungs had proven too great, and she had heard that he had succumbed to infection last night. That was one of the reasons she had come to the ward today, even though she was exhausted from her time in the operating room. It was physically tiring, standing for so many hours. But that fatigue was nothing compared to the emotional drain of trying to save critically wounded men.

“How are you on this beautiful day?” Carolyn asked, gesturing toward the window. Thank goodness the sun had finally appeared. After days of seemingly endless rain, the sunny interlude was a welcome change. Though nothing could compensate for the loss of a comrade, the absence of rain had to boost the men’s spirits, even if only slightly.

“We’re just peachy,” one of the men said, his dour tone belying the lighthearted words.

“I reckon we’d be a darn sight better if we were home,” the redheaded man in the next bed told her.

Carolyn nodded. They would all be a darn sight better—to use the corporal’s expression—if the war were over and they were home. “Well, gentlemen,” she said, continuing the fable she had begun a week ago, “you know that I commissioned the SS Carolyn to take us all back to the States. Unfortunately, this morning’s carrier pigeon told me that there was a delay at the shipyard, and it’ll be at least another month before the boat is ready. In the meantime …”

“Are you gonna read to us?” the dour-voiced man asked.

Carolyn shook her head and reached for the canvas bag she’d brought with her. “I figured you were tired of my voice.”
Besides,
she added silently,
you need something different to take your mind off the empty bed.
“I propose to beat you gentlemen at Parcheesi,” she announced. Suiting her actions to her words, she pulled a small table from between two of the beds and spread the game board on it.

When she had been packing her trunk and had reached for the game, Martha had raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“Why do you want that?” her sister had asked.

Carolyn hadn’t been able to explain the impulse. All she knew was that she wanted the game that had helped while away rainy days for the four Wentworth children. She hadn’t taken it from her trunk until today when she had heard about Private Rogers.

“Parcheesi. I ain’t played that since I was a boy,” the redhead told her.

“Me, neither,” said the man in the next bed.

Carolyn grinned. “All the better for me.” She placed the counters at the edges of the board and plunked a pair of dice in the center. “If you’re out of practice, I’ll have a better chance of winning.” Carolyn remembered the times she’d begged for just one more game, in the hope that she’d win that one. No matter how many rematches she demanded, Theo remained the undisputed Parcheesi champion of the Wentworth family. “I feel it only fair to warn you that I don’t like to lose,” she told the patients. “Now, who’s willing to take on Champ Carolyn?”

“Count me in.” A sparkle of animation lit the somber man’s face, and for the first time since she had entered the room, his voice had lost its bitter tone.

“I reckon, even if it is a child’s game, it’s better than nothin’,” the redhead said as he reached for a counter.

When Carolyn had coaxed a third man into joining them, she turned to the redhead. “It’s not simply a child’s game,” she said in her best schoolmarm tone. “I read that couples used to take Parcheesi boards on their honeymoons.”

A hoot of laughter greeted her announcement. “Is that what you’re fixing to do?” one of the men asked.

Carolyn shook her head in mock solemnity. “My granny said it was bad luck to discuss a girl’s honeymoon with anyone other than her intended.” The truth was, her normally vivid imagination had trouble picturing herself on a honeymoon with Ed, with or without a Parcheesi board.

“What did your granny say about people who cheated?”

“Who would do a thing like that?”

The man stared at one corner of the board. As Carolyn followed the direction of his gaze, she saw that the redhead’s counter had moved, though it was not yet his turn. “Why, Granny would call him a lazy, no-count rapscallion,” she said calmly.

The first man nodded and fixed his gaze on the redhead. “All right, you lazy, no-count rapscallion, put that counter back where it belongs.”

“Aw, shucks.” The redhead frowned. “If I don’t cheat, I reckon I won’t win the prize.”

“What prize?” Carolyn hadn’t expected the men to demand a prize. She thought quickly. If they insisted, she’d give them an autographed clothespin.

The redhead shrugged. “I figured you was gonna give the winner a kiss.” He stared at her lips.

Carolyn tried not to laugh at the man’s earnest expression. Several of the nurse’s aide training sessions had stressed how much the men craved female companionship and that they saw the aides as substitutes for their mothers, sisters, wives, and fiancées. Cases of patients imagining themselves in love with a nurse or an aide were common, the instructor had said. Carolyn knew she should have anticipated that possibility and done whatever she could to discourage the men as gently as possible. Next time she would come prepared with prizes to forestall such requests. That was next time. There was still today to handle.

Dabbing at her eyes, as if she were on the verge of weeping, she said, “I hate to disappoint y’all, but I’m afraid a kiss is one thing I can’t offer you. My granny told me that a girl must never kiss anyone other than her husband.”

“Shucks!”

The first man laughed. “It appears to me that that grandmother of yours was a mighty wise woman, Nurse Carolyn.”

“That’s what she always told me.”

The men laughed, all except the one who had entered the room, unseen by the Parcheesi players. Carolyn wasn’t certain how he did it, but Dwight Hollins managed to frown at the same time that he raised an eyebrow.

“I’m surprised to see you, Miss Wentworth,” he said in the frosty tones she knew so well. “I thought you had been relieved of ward duty.”