Homefront Hero (10 page)

John wasn’t quite sure he’d come to that level of endorsement yet. “So you’re telling me it’s worth the endless ribbing I take from the soldiers back in camp?” He’d heard every version of a knitting joke, many of which could never be repeated in polite company. No doubt Carson had heard even worse if he dared to knit in the barracks.

“The Red Cross officials tell me they’re in dire straits. If you can convince young men to take up this cause and not feel like a—what was the word?—
sissy
about it, then you will have impacted the lives of thousands of brave soldiers. I watched those boys in the audience. They admire you. They want to be like you. Your gifts suit this challenge. God’s placed you in just the right place at just the right time.”

He laughed. “You make my sock sound like a noble crusade.”

“It is.”

Leanne was so straightforward, so refreshingly uncomplicated. Her socks really were a noble crusade to her.
Socks
. Who’d have ever thought he’d spend so much time thinking about socks? He angled himself to face her on the bench, not caring that it sent a pang through his hip. “Does the Red Cross realize what they’ve got in you?” When he’d first asked her that, he’d found her commitment—her passion—misdirected. Now he was coming to see why she dedicated herself the way she did.

“Oh, I suppose no more than the army realizes the secret weapon they have in you.”

He settled for rising off the bench and extending his hand. “Let’s go further convince them, shall we?”

“You’re ready to go forward, then?” She placed her hand in his.

John helped her to her feet, tucking the hand into the crook of his elbow and liking very much how it felt as it nestled there. “Oh, my dear Leanne, I was born ready.”

Chapter Thirteen

L
iberty bond sales were essential to the war effort, and General Barnes capitalized on anything crucial to the war. It may not have rivaled the Carolina Hall or anything at the State House across town, but the general had staged a respectable event. He’d been smart enough to invite several state capitol dignitaries and a few of Columbia’s finest families as well. Barnes knew strategic allies on the home front were as necessary as those overseas.

Transformed from its daily duties as an assembly hall, the space sported bunting and flags, a serviceable army orchestra and as festive a selection of food and drink as could be had during wartime. Despite the affair being well underway—for it had taken a good deal of time to finish their journey here—most of the room turned to look at John and Leanne when they entered. John was clearly used to being at the center of attention. He seemed as at home in the spotlight as she was foreign to it.

“They’re staring at you,” he whispered as they circled around the reception.

“They’re staring at
you,
” she replied, wondering if the flush would ever leave her cheeks this evening. A waiter with a tray of punch cups appeared, and John selected one for her without taking one for himself. Of course, she realized, he needed one hand on his cane while the other leaned ever-so-slightly on her. She sipped it quietly as she watched John’s eyes scan the room for General Barnes.

“He’s not here.”

“No, he won’t appear for another half an hour or so. Probably holed up in some library with cigars and senators.” When she raised an eyebrow, he added, “The man never throws a party just to throw a party. I’ll know how many items he’s ticked off his agenda just by the way he stands.” When she finished her cup of punch, he offered, “Shall we mingle?”

The mayor of Columbia greeted her warmly, remarking on how the addition of Camp Jackson had invigorated the state capital.

“She’s heading up several classes for the Red Cross knitting campaign, too,” John offered, when the conversation turned to Leanne’s activities as a nurse. “I’m her newest student, you know.”

“So I hear, young man, so I hear,” cooed the mayor’s wife. “Well, if anyone can get our boys onto yarn and needles, I suspect it’s you.” The woman turned to Leanne. “You know, our ladies’ guild might be able to supply you with more yarn, if that would help.”

“It would indeed, thank you,” Leanne replied. By the time they’d circled the room, John had maneuvered assorted conversations to no less than six offers of help for the Red Cross classes. He seemed to be able to draw assistance from people with uncanny ease. “You’ve not asked a single person for their help,” she whispered with amusement, “and yet I find myself with half a dozen offers of much-needed assistance.”

“I thought all good Charleston girls were taught the art of social commerce.”

“Not in the way you employ it. I’m afraid I don’t go about it with quite so much…” As she searched for the words, John’s demeanor shifted dramatically. She did not need to see the general to know he had entered the room; John stared at him with an intensity that prickled her skin. Surely it was dangerous to place so much importance on one dance—she couldn’t help thinking tonight would end very badly. John was already leaning heavily on her arm just to walk around. It didn’t seem possible that his scheme could be achieved. Then again, hadn’t he just achieved more than she’d ever bargained for in a handful of “innocent” conversations?

“He’ll work his way over to that side of the room,” John said, pointing to a series of windows that faced west. “We should do the same.”

* * *

This would work. He’d convince the general of his leg’s health without his even being aware of it. That’s why this was so brilliant—anything so obvious as a physical test or exam would heighten the commander’s awareness whereas this would sneak the idea in under his consciousness. Leanne had declared it “propaganda” in jest, but she wasn’t that far off. Of course she didn’t know he’d paid the band leader to ensure a slow waltz two numbers after General Barnes entered the room. When it arrived, John took a deep breath, laid his cane up against the chair railing and extended his hand as if this were the easiest thing in the world. She caught his eye with such an expression of encouragement that it felt as if ten pounds lifted off his frame.

She was delightful to hold. To truly hold, the way he used to hold a dancing partner. Leanne was light and airy on her feet, yet keenly aware of where and when he needed to lean on her. The sessions they’d had with the bars told her just which steps were most difficult for him.

One, two, three
…it was the slight twist at the end of the third step that pained him, but not too badly at first.

One, two, three…they circled within yards of the general. Out of the corner of his eye before turning, John caught Dr. Madison pointing him out to the Barnes. Never mind the scowl on that pessimist Dr. Madison’s face, he’d made it halfway around the room and he wasn’t even sweating yet.

“Smile, my dear,” John said as he caught Leanne peering around his shoulder to check if the general was watching. “This isn’t supposed to be so serious. I’m charming, rememb—” A wrong twist sent a spark of pain through his hip and he almost missed a step. He’d aggravated something, for the pain stayed throughout the steps now instead of waxing and waning. No matter; he could endure it.

“Are you all right?” She applied the smile he’d requested, but worry darkened her eyes.

“Delightful.” He leaned on her a little harder as they made the difficult turn.

“You most certainly are not. Shall we stop? I could feign a turned ankle.”

“I told you not to do such things. I’m fine.” He cursed the traitorous rivulet of sweat he felt stealing down his temple. “Halfway around the room again so we pass in front of him.”

“John, you’re in pain. Stop this before you hurt yourself.”

“Just let me put my weight on you on that third step and we’ll be fine. And land sakes, try to look enthralled. I’m to be sweeping you off your feet, remember?”

“It is getting you off your feet that I’m most concerned with at the moment.”

John’s leg was on fire now, but he’d pass out before he’d pass up the chance to waltz past the general one more time. He tightened his grip on Leanne’s shoulder and stared into the welcome distraction of her eyes. “Stay with me. Just a few measures more.” He discovered he was gritting his teeth.

“John…”

The final measures of the waltz placed them right in front of the general, and John turned Leanne just enough to face her toward Barnes as they stood still at the song’s conclusion and applauded the orchestra. He leaned in to catch her ear above the noise. “What’s he doing?” he whispered, more breathless than he would have liked.

“He’s talking to Dr. Madison.”

“Laughing?”

“It looks rather more like a frown, I’m sorry to say.”

“And Madison?” He needed just a few seconds more before he could turn and face Barnes convincingly.

“Scowling like a bear.”

“Excellent. Now, I’ll turn to face him, and if you’d be so kind, duck over to the side of the room and fetch my cane. It’d be lovely if you could be rather insistent that I use it, for I plan to refuse a time or two.”

Leanne narrowed her eyes. “Really? This has become an exercise in playacting.”

“You’re my secret weapon, Leanne. Just a minute or two longer and then I shall be yours to command. I’ll knit baby booties if it comes to that.”

“Honestly.” Her words were harsh, but the amusement hiding behind her glare did her no favors in making her seem stern. She turned in the direction of his cane, but not before he brought her hand to his lips and placed a lingering kiss there. She smelled of roses, and her eyes made the fire in his leg fade to embers.

* * *

A long hour later, Leanne raised an eyebrow as John turned to the car that had brought them back to the Red Cross House and barked at the driver not to wait. She said nothing as the car rumbled off down the street, just as John had said next to nothing as they’d driven home. She’d caught him looking at her a dozen times on the short trip, silent, a quizzical smile on his face.

“Did things turn out the way you wanted?”

“I’m not at all sure.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that. “What were you expecting?”

“I wasn’t expecting anything. The point was to hand him an impression without him realizing it.”

“I thought you did marvelously. I have no doubt you were a superb dancer in your day.” She regretted the backhanded compliment the moment it left her lips. They’d never discussed his full prognosis, whether Dr. Madison expected him to regain full use of the leg. John certainly seemed to brook no doubts on the issue. “You
are
a superb dancer now.”

The correction was useless. He looked at her, and for the first time she saw the doubts he tried so very hard to kill. “I needed your help.” He whispered it like a confession.

“You were smart enough to ask for it. I was glad to give it.” She smiled at the memory of all the eyes upon her and John. “We were a very convincing pair, weren’t we?”

John took a step closer, his hand on the house railing. “We were. I was the envy of every man there.”

“Oh, I doubt that.” He was the center of the attention, so handsome and charming people flocked around them when they left the dance floor. If anyone was an object of envy, it was her. She had little doubt that every single woman in the ballroom coveted her position on the captain’s arm.

“I didn’t dance with anyone else now, did I?” The way he said it let her know John was aware of how she’d noticed the attentions of other ladies at the ball.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “You couldn’t have. No one else knew our system.”

John stepped in again. “Our
secret
. But even if they did, I wouldn’t have danced with anyone else.” He’d downed several glasses of champagne after they’d danced, saying he needed it to dull the pain, and she suspected that was the reason his words took on such a dramatic flair. She also knew John used dramatic flair to get what he wanted.

His eyes were intense, as dark blue as the night sky behind him. It was becoming clear he wanted to be closer to her. Clearer yet was that she was beginning to want it, too, despite a hundred reasons to resist. He leaned in, and while she took a breath to stop him, no sound would come out of her mouth. He ran one finger down the length of her hand. The sensation made her head spin. “I can’t dance with anyone else. Just you. Another of the Almighty’s impressive ideas, I suppose.”

Leanne was thankful he’d managed to say the one thing that would shake her senses back into place. “John.”

“We’re an excellent pair. Socks come in pairs.” He let his finger feather against her wrist.

She removed her hand. “We are a mismatched pair.”

He looked into her eyes, his voice silken. “I don’t see it that way.”

“You are looking for the conquest you did not gain tonight. And you have had too much champagne.”

“It kills the pain.”

“It kills the
senses,
” she corrected. “We are a pair of friends, and that is how it must stay.”

He stepped entirely too close. “Are you sure?”

Leanne pulled in a deep breath. “Not at all, but as Dr. Madison would say, ‘there it is.’ Good night, John.”

John took her hand and kissed it dramatically. It was a showy kiss, not the delicate kind he’d placed on her hand at the end of their waltz at the ball. “Good night, my dear friend Nurse Sample.”

Leanne was grateful she could almost laugh. “Do you even know how to be friends with a woman?”

“You’ll find I can be the epitome of paternal civility.”

Now she could laugh. “Don’t you mean ‘platonic’?”

He tipped his hat. “Perhaps I should not have downed that last glass. But it is a lovely thing not to have one’s leg on fire every moment. So perhaps your friendship will allow you to forgive my indulgence.”

“We are all in need of forgiveness.” She stepped up onto the short flight of stairs that led into the house.

“Not you.” He looked up at her with an unchecked, wide-eyed admiration. “You’re perfect.”

She fought the urge to lean down and kiss his cheek. Never in her life had she been so tempted to cross such a line—but it would do neither of them any good. She was his friend. She was his nurse. That was all she could ever be. “I most of all, Captain Gallows. Good night.”

He put his hand on his heart, a theatrical wounding, before turning off to spin his cane as he disappeared into the night.