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Synopsis
FROM A GREAT WAR, SPRINGS A GREAT LOVE In France at the height of World War I, American nurse Evelyn Gray is no stranger to suffering. She's helped save the life of many a soldier, but when she learns her betrothed has been killed, her own heart may be broken beyond repair. Summoning all her strength, Evelyn is determined to carry on-not just for herself and her country, but for her unborn child. Corporal Joel Campbell dreams of the day the war is over and he can return home and start a family. When a brutal battle injury puts that hope in jeopardy, Joel is lost to despair . . . until he meets Evelyn. Beautiful, compassionate, and in need of help, she makes an unconventional proposal that could save their lives-or ruin them irrevocably. Now, amidst the terror and turmoil of the Western Front, these two lost souls will have to put their faith in love to find the miracle they've been looking for.
Release date: December 16, 2014
Publisher: Forever
Print pages: 353
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Hope Rising
Stacy Henrie
Prologue
France, May 1918
Evelyn Gray breathed in the briny smell of the sea as she fingered the five shells in her gloved palm. One for each year without her father. From beneath her velour hat, she peered up at the gray sky overhead. The cool temperature and the possibility of rain made her grateful for the warmth of her Army Nurse Corps outdoor uniform, with its dark blue jacket, shirtwaist, and skirt.
“Nurse Gray, come on.” One of the other three nurses down the beach waved for her to join them in their walk along the shoreline toward the white cliffs in the distance.
Sighing, Evelyn turned in their direction. She wasn’t in any hurry to rejoin their conversation. The other girls on leave with her were full of talk about home and families and sweethearts, while she had only her aging grandparents waiting for her back in Michigan. As for a beau? Her lips turned up into a bitter smile. She’d been too busy with nurse’s training to worry about any of that.
She lifted the first shell—a smooth, white one—and tossed it into the sea. “I still miss you, Papa,” she said as the seashell slipped beneath the surface of the water.
Five years today, since you left us. She could easily picture how he’d trudged up the porch steps that afternoon after tending to a patient—he’d never established a doctor’s office in town, preferring instead to make house calls or take visits in their home. He hadn’t looked well, but Evelyn’s medical knowledge at seventeen wasn’t what it was today at twenty-two. She still wasn’t sure if he himself recognized the signs of the coming heart attack.
Tossing the second shell into the water, she swallowed hard against the flood of memories. She’d gone upstairs to make sure he was lying down and found him on the floor next to the bed, already gone.
She rid her hand of the third, fourth, and fifth shells in quick succession, then brushed the granules of sand from her gloves. The wind and the ache in her heart brought salty moisture to her eyes, but she straightened her shoulders against both. No one else needed to know what day it was or how much the loneliness tore at her.
“Afternoon.”
Evelyn whirled around to find an American soldier watching her from a few feet away. He wasn’t overly tall, less than six feet, but his handsome face, broad shoulders, and dark eyes were an impressive combination and made Evelyn’s pulse skip from more than being startled.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you.” He smiled, looking anything but apologetic. “Beautiful view.”
The way he said it, she knew he wasn’t talking about the ocean. Evelyn didn’t blush, though. She was used to lingering looks and flirtations from the wounded soldiers at the hospital where she worked. Some, like this young man, were quite handsome; others were sweet; and a few pressed her to keep in touch once they left the hospital. But Evelyn put a firm stop to any such nonsense. She wouldn’t break the rule forbidding fraternization between nurses and enlisted soldiers.
Being a nurse was demanding enough; doing so while pregnant or with a venereal disease would make it twice as difficult. Not to mention she would be discharged if it were discovered she was with child. No, nursing was too important to her, and to her grandparents, to throw her job away for some soldier. Nowhere else but in a busy hospital ward, performing her duties, did she still feel close to her father.
Time to catch up with the other nurses.
Evelyn turned in the direction of the cliffs and started after the girls. They’d managed to cover quite a bit of distance while she lingered behind. To her dismay, the soldier fell into step beside her.
“I’m Private First Class Ralph Kelley.” He held out his hand for her to shake. “And you are?”
“Not supposed to talk to you,” Evelyn said in her firmest nurse’s tone. “You know the rules, soldier.” She tried to maintain a brisk pace across the beach, but the stones and sand underfoot made it difficult.
He chuckled as he lowered his hand to his side. “You on leave?” he asked, doggedly ignoring her rejection. “With those other nurses?”
She refused to answer, but his next question caught her off guard.
“Do you collect pebbles? I saw you picking some up earlier.”
How long had he been watching her? Heat rose into her cheeks at his intrusion upon her private mourning. “I need to go.” She attempted to outdistance him again, but his feet kept tempo with hers.
“Have lunch with me.”
The request, spoken in an almost pleading tone, halted Evelyn’s retreat in a way his earlier attempts at charm hadn’t. She circled to face him. Perhaps a gentle rebuff would serve her better than her usual abrupt one.
Before she could say anything, he spoke again. “I can’t say I don’t make it a habit of talking with nurses.” He gave her a sheepish smile as he removed his cap and fingered the olive drab wool. “But you looked like you could use a friend back there. Like there was something weighing on your mind.”
The perceptive observation took her by surprise, and she fell back a step. Could there be more to this soldier than his ladies’ man demeanor? Her earlier feeling of isolation welled up inside her, nearly choking her with its hold. “It’s the anniversary of my father’s death—five years today.” The admission tumbled out, despite the voice of reason screaming in her mind to keep walking away. “I’ve been thinking a lot about him lately.”
“Do your friends know?” He nodded in the direction the other girls had gone.
Evelyn folded her arms against the battering breeze and shook her head. “I didn’t want to spoil their time away from the hospital.”
“That’s rather generous.” He cocked his head to study her. “Will you at least tell me your name?”
She could feel her defenses crumbling beneath the sincerity in his black eyes. “It’s…um…Evelyn. Evelyn Gray.”
“Evelyn.”
Hearing his deep voice intone her name brought butterflies to her stomach, and the smile he offered afterward made her heartbeat thrum faster. When was the last time she’d felt this way? Probably not since she and Dale had kissed after high school graduation. Dale Emerson had been her first beau, until he moved to Sioux City, Iowa, and Evelyn had put all her time and energy into becoming a nurse. Last she’d heard, Dale had graduated from medical school and was serving as a surgeon at the front lines.
“I discovered a place yesterday that serves excellent fish,” he said, his tone coaxing. “If you like fish…”
Despite her best efforts to stop it, a smile lifted the corners of her lips. “I think I’d like anything that wasn’t cooked at the hospital. Our food there isn’t much better than Army fare, I’m afraid.”
Private Kelley laughed; it was a pleasant sound. “I owe it to you then, to at least provide you a decent meal while you’re on leave.” His expression sobered as he added, “Especially today.”
Evelyn glanced over her shoulder at the three nurses far down the beach. She ought to refuse. But logic was growing less and less persuasive inside her mind. For the first time in months, she felt valued and important. This soldier’s genuine notice and concern soothed the loneliness she wore as constantly as her nurse’s uniform.
She pushed at the sand beneath her shoes, her lips pursed in indecision. Could any real harm come from simply sharing a meal in a public place? At least she’d be spared having to listen to the other girls prattle on about their big families and parents who were still alive. She would only be trading one conversation for another.
Inhaling a deep breath, she let her words slide out on the exhale. “Let me tell them I’ll meet up with them later.”
He grinned and replaced his hat on his head. “I’ll wait right here for you.”
Evelyn moved with new purpose toward the retreating group. She called to the girls from a distance to avoid any questions. The three of them turned as one. “Go on ahead without me. I’ll meet up with you before supper.”
They glanced at one another, then one of them shrugged and waved her hand in acknowledgment. A sense of freedom rolled through her as Evelyn retraced her steps to where Private First Class Ralph Kelley stood waiting.
“All set?” He extended his hand to her.
Evelyn stared at it for a long moment, then placed her fingers in his palm. With a smile, he tucked her hand over his arm and led her away from the beach.
Chapter 1
July 1918
You’ve become skin and bones since you came here, Evelyn. And no wonder; you eat like a bird.” Alice Thornton waved her fork at the half-empty plate Evelyn had slid aside. “If my mother were here, she’d try to fatten you up. Unlike the hospital cook, apparently.”
Evelyn smiled, despite the queasiness in her stomach. She could imagine Mrs. Thornton—a rotund, matronly version of red-headed Alice—chasing her down with a ladle of stew in hand. Alice talked a lot about her family, particularly her three beanpole brothers who never put on pounds no matter how much they ate, much to their mother’s chagrin.
That wasn’t Evelyn’s problem. The morning sickness that plagued her, even now in the middle of the day, prevented her from stomaching much of any meal. But she certainly didn’t plan on telling Alice that.
Almost of its own volition, her hand rose to rest against the middle of her white nurse’s apron. The tiny life inside her could only be ten weeks along by now, but her own life had been altered just the same. Would anyone else notice her lack of appetite, as Alice had, or her frequent trips to the bathroom?
Alice turned to chat with another nurse seated near them, giving Evelyn a moment to herself. She slipped her hand beneath her apron, into the pocket of her gray crepe dress, and felt the letter tucked there. It brought instant calm as she withdrew the folded slip of paper. Though the letter had arrived less than a week ago, she had Ralph’s words memorized. Still, she liked to see the bold strokes of his handwriting and read the reassurance behind the words he’d penned.
I’m still in shock at your news of the baby. I find myself thinking at odd times of the day, even in the middle of a battle, that I’m going to be a father. I am going to do right by you and the baby, Evelyn. Not like my own father. As soon as I get leave again, I’m coming to the hospital there and we’ll get married. I know you’ll be discharged after that, being married and all, but you won’t have to worry about what to tell your grandparents anymore. You can tell them you got hitched in France and came home to have our baby.
I miss you and think of you every day.
Yours,
Ralph
“Did we get mail today?”
Alice’s voice broke into Evelyn’s reverie. Startled, she glanced up in confusion. “Mail?”
Her roommate pointed at the sheet of paper in Evelyn’s grip.
Evelyn quickly folded the letter and shoved it into her pocket, away from Alice’s curious gaze. “Oh, I’m not sure. This is from last week.”
“Is it from your grandparents?”
Though she wanted to answer in the affirmative, Evelyn wouldn’t lie. She hadn’t heard from either her grandmother or her grandfather in several months. Their declining health made returning Evelyn’s missives difficult.
“It’s from a…friend,” she hedged. She steeled herself for more questions, but thankfully Alice accepted the response with a nod.
Evelyn hadn’t yet broached the subject of the baby or her inevitable homecoming in her letters to her grandparents. She’d wait until she and Ralph were married. That way when she told them, she would be breaking the news as a new bride and not an unwed mother. What would that shock do to them? She was hopeful they’d like Ralph—that his charisma would eventually win them over as it had her. The thought of his larger-than-life personality filling the too quiet house where she’d grown up brought a smile to her lips.
“Better hurry up.” Evelyn stood and picked up her plate. “I heard Sister Marcelle is doing a round of ward visits today or tomorrow.”
Alice frowned and scrambled up from the table. “In that case, I’ll skip the rest. Sister Henriette is likely to tell her that I yelled at Sergeant Dennis good and long this morning. But honestly, the man refuses to rest.”
Evelyn’s smile flattened into a frown as she followed Alice to the kitchen. She’d noticed the way Sergeant Dennis watched Alice. The man was clearly captivated by the younger girl and would go to great lengths to garner a response from her—even if it was a good scolding. Evelyn could only hope her roommate would remain blind to the man’s attention. Alice didn’t seem the type to disregard the rule forbidding nurses and soldiers from fraternizing, but then again, Evelyn hadn’t expected to break the rule herself. Not until she’d met Ralph.
A torrent of French greeted them as they set their dishes beside the kitchen’s enormous sink. The hospital cook stood at the back door, shaking her spoon at a dark-headed youngster.
“S’il vous plaît?” the boy entreated.
“Non pas de pain,” the cook responded. She slammed the door in the boy’s disheartened face and muttered under her breath. Throwing a pointed look at Evelyn and Alice, she returned to her table and began whacking dough with a stick.
“Come on, Evelyn.” Alice retreated back toward the entrance to the large dining hall. None of the twenty nurses at St. Vincent’s liked spending much time in the kitchen with the cantankerous cook.
“I’ll be along in a minute. You go ahead.”
The moment her roommate left, Evelyn took both the half-nibbled rolls from their plates and discreetly put them into her free pocket. While she might not be able to stomach much food, that didn’t mean someone else should go away hungry. She retraced her steps to the dining hall and let herself out one of the hospital’s rear entrances. A welcoming breeze loosened bits of her dark hair from underneath her nurse’s cap. Evelyn tucked them back and eyed the sky. Gray clouds overhead promised rain.
Before her, the back lawn of the hospital extended long and wide, bordered by forests of beech and oak trees. The hospital itself had originally been a château, rebuilt in the 1860s and bequeathed to the Sisters of Charity. The living quarters for the hospital staff stood to her left in what had once been the orangery and beyond that sat an ancient stone church. Though different from the clapboard building she’d attended as a child, she couldn’t help wondering each time she saw the old building how many weddings, funerals, and services had been held within its rock walls. Would it see another hundred years’ worth of worship and poignant moments or fall, ravaged by the war like so many other towns and villages?
Out of the corner of her eye, Evelyn caught sight of black hair as the beggar boy rounded the hospital. “Wait! Attendez!” she called out as she jogged after him. “Please, wait.”
He stopped so suddenly Evelyn nearly ran into him. Large black eyes peered up at her from a dirt-smudged face. They looked neither sad nor angry, but resigned and weary, though the boy couldn’t be more than six years old. That wizened look constricted Evelyn’s heart more than the other signs of poverty about him—the cuts on his shins and the disheveled state of his shirt and trousers.
“Parlez-vous Anglais?” she inquired. She hoped he spoke English. Her French was still quite rudimentary, despite the months she’d spent in his country as a nurse.
He cocked his head and nodded.
“Wonderful. What’s your name?”
“Loo-ee. Louis Rousseau.”
Evelyn smiled. “Bonjour, Louis. I’m Nurse Gray.”
“Got any coffin nails or chocolate?”
She bit back a laugh at the familiar term for cigarettes. “You learned English from some soldiers, didn’t you?”
Louis shook his head. “Ma grand-mère taught me the English. But ma mère takes our vegetables into the market and sometimes the Americans buy some. She didn’t sell much yesterday. I was trying to beg some petit de pain off that tête de chou. That cabbage-headed cook. But she just say ‘non, non.’”
The brief glimpse into the boy’s day-to-day life made Evelyn all the more grateful she’d taken the uneaten food to give him. While she understood the cook and her staff had to keep an entire hospital from going hungry, Evelyn still believed a little kindness in these dark times was equally important.
“Tell you what, Louis. I didn’t finish all my bread today and I’d like you to have it.” She removed the rolls, which were slightly squished now, and held them out to him.
His eyes widened as he stared at the bread, then at her.
“Go on. You can have it.”
He carefully took the rolls from her. One he bit into at once, but the other he held in his free hand. “Ma mère can eat this one. Merci.”
“You’re welcome.”
A flood of emotion filled her as she watched him lean against the hospital wall to eat the meager meal. He was clearly famished, but he ate the bread slowly. Watching him, her thoughts turned to the life growing inside her.
Perhaps the baby would be a boy—a little dark-haired fellow with an impish glint in his black eyes just like his father. She could imagine her and Ralph and their child, and hopefully the other children that would follow, sitting on the porch of her grandparents’ house—her house—laughing and sipping lemonade. The loneliness she’d experienced since her father’s death would disappear, and the large, empty house would be filled with laughter and life and people.
She’d always envied those of her schoolmates with large families and two living parents. While she never doubted the love her father and grandparents felt for her, she still used to pretend she had a whole slew of brothers and sisters—a complete family. Soon, that dream would be realized. Once she and Ralph married, she would be a wife and eventually a mother, with a family of her own.
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” she asked Louis, reluctant to return indoors. The heat and smells inside the hospital made her nausea worse.
Louis shook his head. “It’s only me and ma mère.”
Did Louis long for more family as she did? “Where’s your father?”
The boy lowered his gaze to the grass. “He was a soldier…but he got killed last year.” His brow pinched with sorrow, the same emotion tugging at Evelyn’s own heart. So many men gone…
Losing her father had been devastating, and she hadn’t been a child. Even now, there were countless moments when she missed him with an intensity that made his death feel as fresh as yesterday. The similarities between her and the young boy poking at the ground with his big toe ran deeper than she would have guessed.
Squatting down in front of Louis, she rested her hands on his thin shoulders. “My father died, too.”
“Was he a brave soldier like mon père?”
“In a way. He was a doctor, so he helped people fight battles of illness and disease.”
Louis lifted his chin to look her in the eye. “How’d he die?”
“His heart stopped working one day.”
“Et votre mère?”
And your mother? Seventeen years without a mother still hadn’t erased the longing Evelyn felt whenever people asked. “My mother died when I was five years old. But she’d been sick for a long time.” The word cancer settled on her tongue, but she swallowed it back. The boy didn’t need to know and probably wouldn’t understand the whole ugly truth about her mother’s condition.
Louis’s brow furrowed. “Who takes care of you?”
The inquiry was said with so much seriousness that Evelyn didn’t dare laugh. She chose not to say “myself,” despite its being the truth. She’d been taking care of herself, more or less, since her father’s death. But she recognized what Louis was really asking. Did she have any other family or was she all alone in the world? She cringed inwardly at the thought of having no one. “My grandparents are waiting for me back in America.”
Her answer seemed to satisfy him.
“I’d better go,” he said, wiping the crumbs from his mouth with his sleeve.
Evelyn stood. “So should I. Do you live close by?”
He pointed south. “La Troumont.” Evelyn recognized the name of the nearby village. “Au revoir, Nurse Gray.”
“Au revoir, Louis. I hope to see you again soon.”
He grinned, then spun around and darted into the trees.
* * *
When he disappeared from view, Evelyn retraced her steps to the rear entrance of the hospital. It wouldn’t do to be late to her assigned ward, especially if Sister Marcelle chose today to make her inspection.
Evelyn passed through the empty dining hall. The sounds of her footsteps echoing off the high walls and marbled floors accompanied her as she moved toward the opposite end. The room that now housed long tables and benches for meals had once been a ballroom.
She liked to fancy herself in a silk dress and Ralph in his Army uniform waltzing around the ornate room, her cheek to his stubbled one, his hand firm against her back. He’d murmur funny or complimentary endearments in her ear as he had when they’d danced on leave two months before. The memories made her shiver with yearning and anticipation. Perhaps after the wedding, they could find a place to honeymoon for a few days so they could dance or explore again.
Smiling at the thought, Evelyn climbed the stairs to the wards on the second floor. The stone walls of the old château kept the place from being completely miserable now that it was the middle of summer, but she still felt the air growing warmer as she ascended. At the top, she smoothed her apron. She tried to recall from her days assisting her father how early a woman’s belly began expanding when she was pregnant. Four months? Five? Hopefully Ralph would be the first in his regiment to get leave, so she wouldn’t be showing too much by the time he came for her.
“There you are, Nurse Gray.” Sister Henriette met Evelyn outside the door of her assigned ward. The woman’s face glimmered with sweat beneath her wide, white headdress. It reminded Evelyn of the sailboats she’d seen as a child on Lake Michigan.
“I’m sorry I’m late, Sister. I had a quick errand to do first.”
Sister Henriette waved away her apology. “Sister Marcelle wishes to speak with you.”
“With me?” Something akin to panic wormed its way up Evelyn’s spine and, with it, a new wave of sickness. She hadn’t committed any infractions since transferring to St. Vincent’s six weeks ago. Did that mean Sister Marcelle, the hospital administrator, had discovered her secret?
“You’re not in trouble, child. She only wishes to ask you about a change in assignment.”
Relief made her shoulders droop and relaxed her tight jaw. Evelyn dipped her head in acknowledgment. A new assignment she could handle, though it did seem odd Sister Marcelle wouldn’t simply ask Sister Henriette to pass on the information.
“She is waiting in her office. Just report back to the ward when you are finished.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She strode down the hallway with new confidence, passing the open doors of the other wards on both sides. The murmur of voices and occasional laughter floated out to her. After climbing another set of stairs, Evelyn paused outside the worn wooden door of Sister Marcelle’s tiny office. She knocked once and an alto voice called out, “You may enter.”
After stepping inside, Evelyn stood before Sister Marcelle’s large desk. Stacks of papers and ledgers stood in neat piles on one side. The only other furniture in the room was two wooden chairs, one occupied by Sister Marcelle. A large crucifix hung on the wall behind the sister. Just as Evelyn had on her first visit to this office, she avoided looking directly at the cross.
“Ah, Nurse Gray. Thank you for coming.” The sister’s blue-gray eyes, the same color as the dress she wore, shone bright with kindness. Unlike the other sisters, she spoke with nearly no trace of a French accent.
“Sister Henriette said you wished to see me.”
“Yes.” Sister Marcelle motioned to the chair opposite the desk. “Please have a seat.”
Evelyn perched on the edge of the chair.
Sister Marcelle folded her hands on top of the desk. “As I am sure you are aware, Sister Pauline is in charge of Sister Henriette’s wards at night. Howev. . .
France, May 1918
Evelyn Gray breathed in the briny smell of the sea as she fingered the five shells in her gloved palm. One for each year without her father. From beneath her velour hat, she peered up at the gray sky overhead. The cool temperature and the possibility of rain made her grateful for the warmth of her Army Nurse Corps outdoor uniform, with its dark blue jacket, shirtwaist, and skirt.
“Nurse Gray, come on.” One of the other three nurses down the beach waved for her to join them in their walk along the shoreline toward the white cliffs in the distance.
Sighing, Evelyn turned in their direction. She wasn’t in any hurry to rejoin their conversation. The other girls on leave with her were full of talk about home and families and sweethearts, while she had only her aging grandparents waiting for her back in Michigan. As for a beau? Her lips turned up into a bitter smile. She’d been too busy with nurse’s training to worry about any of that.
She lifted the first shell—a smooth, white one—and tossed it into the sea. “I still miss you, Papa,” she said as the seashell slipped beneath the surface of the water.
Five years today, since you left us. She could easily picture how he’d trudged up the porch steps that afternoon after tending to a patient—he’d never established a doctor’s office in town, preferring instead to make house calls or take visits in their home. He hadn’t looked well, but Evelyn’s medical knowledge at seventeen wasn’t what it was today at twenty-two. She still wasn’t sure if he himself recognized the signs of the coming heart attack.
Tossing the second shell into the water, she swallowed hard against the flood of memories. She’d gone upstairs to make sure he was lying down and found him on the floor next to the bed, already gone.
She rid her hand of the third, fourth, and fifth shells in quick succession, then brushed the granules of sand from her gloves. The wind and the ache in her heart brought salty moisture to her eyes, but she straightened her shoulders against both. No one else needed to know what day it was or how much the loneliness tore at her.
“Afternoon.”
Evelyn whirled around to find an American soldier watching her from a few feet away. He wasn’t overly tall, less than six feet, but his handsome face, broad shoulders, and dark eyes were an impressive combination and made Evelyn’s pulse skip from more than being startled.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you.” He smiled, looking anything but apologetic. “Beautiful view.”
The way he said it, she knew he wasn’t talking about the ocean. Evelyn didn’t blush, though. She was used to lingering looks and flirtations from the wounded soldiers at the hospital where she worked. Some, like this young man, were quite handsome; others were sweet; and a few pressed her to keep in touch once they left the hospital. But Evelyn put a firm stop to any such nonsense. She wouldn’t break the rule forbidding fraternization between nurses and enlisted soldiers.
Being a nurse was demanding enough; doing so while pregnant or with a venereal disease would make it twice as difficult. Not to mention she would be discharged if it were discovered she was with child. No, nursing was too important to her, and to her grandparents, to throw her job away for some soldier. Nowhere else but in a busy hospital ward, performing her duties, did she still feel close to her father.
Time to catch up with the other nurses.
Evelyn turned in the direction of the cliffs and started after the girls. They’d managed to cover quite a bit of distance while she lingered behind. To her dismay, the soldier fell into step beside her.
“I’m Private First Class Ralph Kelley.” He held out his hand for her to shake. “And you are?”
“Not supposed to talk to you,” Evelyn said in her firmest nurse’s tone. “You know the rules, soldier.” She tried to maintain a brisk pace across the beach, but the stones and sand underfoot made it difficult.
He chuckled as he lowered his hand to his side. “You on leave?” he asked, doggedly ignoring her rejection. “With those other nurses?”
She refused to answer, but his next question caught her off guard.
“Do you collect pebbles? I saw you picking some up earlier.”
How long had he been watching her? Heat rose into her cheeks at his intrusion upon her private mourning. “I need to go.” She attempted to outdistance him again, but his feet kept tempo with hers.
“Have lunch with me.”
The request, spoken in an almost pleading tone, halted Evelyn’s retreat in a way his earlier attempts at charm hadn’t. She circled to face him. Perhaps a gentle rebuff would serve her better than her usual abrupt one.
Before she could say anything, he spoke again. “I can’t say I don’t make it a habit of talking with nurses.” He gave her a sheepish smile as he removed his cap and fingered the olive drab wool. “But you looked like you could use a friend back there. Like there was something weighing on your mind.”
The perceptive observation took her by surprise, and she fell back a step. Could there be more to this soldier than his ladies’ man demeanor? Her earlier feeling of isolation welled up inside her, nearly choking her with its hold. “It’s the anniversary of my father’s death—five years today.” The admission tumbled out, despite the voice of reason screaming in her mind to keep walking away. “I’ve been thinking a lot about him lately.”
“Do your friends know?” He nodded in the direction the other girls had gone.
Evelyn folded her arms against the battering breeze and shook her head. “I didn’t want to spoil their time away from the hospital.”
“That’s rather generous.” He cocked his head to study her. “Will you at least tell me your name?”
She could feel her defenses crumbling beneath the sincerity in his black eyes. “It’s…um…Evelyn. Evelyn Gray.”
“Evelyn.”
Hearing his deep voice intone her name brought butterflies to her stomach, and the smile he offered afterward made her heartbeat thrum faster. When was the last time she’d felt this way? Probably not since she and Dale had kissed after high school graduation. Dale Emerson had been her first beau, until he moved to Sioux City, Iowa, and Evelyn had put all her time and energy into becoming a nurse. Last she’d heard, Dale had graduated from medical school and was serving as a surgeon at the front lines.
“I discovered a place yesterday that serves excellent fish,” he said, his tone coaxing. “If you like fish…”
Despite her best efforts to stop it, a smile lifted the corners of her lips. “I think I’d like anything that wasn’t cooked at the hospital. Our food there isn’t much better than Army fare, I’m afraid.”
Private Kelley laughed; it was a pleasant sound. “I owe it to you then, to at least provide you a decent meal while you’re on leave.” His expression sobered as he added, “Especially today.”
Evelyn glanced over her shoulder at the three nurses far down the beach. She ought to refuse. But logic was growing less and less persuasive inside her mind. For the first time in months, she felt valued and important. This soldier’s genuine notice and concern soothed the loneliness she wore as constantly as her nurse’s uniform.
She pushed at the sand beneath her shoes, her lips pursed in indecision. Could any real harm come from simply sharing a meal in a public place? At least she’d be spared having to listen to the other girls prattle on about their big families and parents who were still alive. She would only be trading one conversation for another.
Inhaling a deep breath, she let her words slide out on the exhale. “Let me tell them I’ll meet up with them later.”
He grinned and replaced his hat on his head. “I’ll wait right here for you.”
Evelyn moved with new purpose toward the retreating group. She called to the girls from a distance to avoid any questions. The three of them turned as one. “Go on ahead without me. I’ll meet up with you before supper.”
They glanced at one another, then one of them shrugged and waved her hand in acknowledgment. A sense of freedom rolled through her as Evelyn retraced her steps to where Private First Class Ralph Kelley stood waiting.
“All set?” He extended his hand to her.
Evelyn stared at it for a long moment, then placed her fingers in his palm. With a smile, he tucked her hand over his arm and led her away from the beach.
Chapter 1
July 1918
You’ve become skin and bones since you came here, Evelyn. And no wonder; you eat like a bird.” Alice Thornton waved her fork at the half-empty plate Evelyn had slid aside. “If my mother were here, she’d try to fatten you up. Unlike the hospital cook, apparently.”
Evelyn smiled, despite the queasiness in her stomach. She could imagine Mrs. Thornton—a rotund, matronly version of red-headed Alice—chasing her down with a ladle of stew in hand. Alice talked a lot about her family, particularly her three beanpole brothers who never put on pounds no matter how much they ate, much to their mother’s chagrin.
That wasn’t Evelyn’s problem. The morning sickness that plagued her, even now in the middle of the day, prevented her from stomaching much of any meal. But she certainly didn’t plan on telling Alice that.
Almost of its own volition, her hand rose to rest against the middle of her white nurse’s apron. The tiny life inside her could only be ten weeks along by now, but her own life had been altered just the same. Would anyone else notice her lack of appetite, as Alice had, or her frequent trips to the bathroom?
Alice turned to chat with another nurse seated near them, giving Evelyn a moment to herself. She slipped her hand beneath her apron, into the pocket of her gray crepe dress, and felt the letter tucked there. It brought instant calm as she withdrew the folded slip of paper. Though the letter had arrived less than a week ago, she had Ralph’s words memorized. Still, she liked to see the bold strokes of his handwriting and read the reassurance behind the words he’d penned.
I’m still in shock at your news of the baby. I find myself thinking at odd times of the day, even in the middle of a battle, that I’m going to be a father. I am going to do right by you and the baby, Evelyn. Not like my own father. As soon as I get leave again, I’m coming to the hospital there and we’ll get married. I know you’ll be discharged after that, being married and all, but you won’t have to worry about what to tell your grandparents anymore. You can tell them you got hitched in France and came home to have our baby.
I miss you and think of you every day.
Yours,
Ralph
“Did we get mail today?”
Alice’s voice broke into Evelyn’s reverie. Startled, she glanced up in confusion. “Mail?”
Her roommate pointed at the sheet of paper in Evelyn’s grip.
Evelyn quickly folded the letter and shoved it into her pocket, away from Alice’s curious gaze. “Oh, I’m not sure. This is from last week.”
“Is it from your grandparents?”
Though she wanted to answer in the affirmative, Evelyn wouldn’t lie. She hadn’t heard from either her grandmother or her grandfather in several months. Their declining health made returning Evelyn’s missives difficult.
“It’s from a…friend,” she hedged. She steeled herself for more questions, but thankfully Alice accepted the response with a nod.
Evelyn hadn’t yet broached the subject of the baby or her inevitable homecoming in her letters to her grandparents. She’d wait until she and Ralph were married. That way when she told them, she would be breaking the news as a new bride and not an unwed mother. What would that shock do to them? She was hopeful they’d like Ralph—that his charisma would eventually win them over as it had her. The thought of his larger-than-life personality filling the too quiet house where she’d grown up brought a smile to her lips.
“Better hurry up.” Evelyn stood and picked up her plate. “I heard Sister Marcelle is doing a round of ward visits today or tomorrow.”
Alice frowned and scrambled up from the table. “In that case, I’ll skip the rest. Sister Henriette is likely to tell her that I yelled at Sergeant Dennis good and long this morning. But honestly, the man refuses to rest.”
Evelyn’s smile flattened into a frown as she followed Alice to the kitchen. She’d noticed the way Sergeant Dennis watched Alice. The man was clearly captivated by the younger girl and would go to great lengths to garner a response from her—even if it was a good scolding. Evelyn could only hope her roommate would remain blind to the man’s attention. Alice didn’t seem the type to disregard the rule forbidding nurses and soldiers from fraternizing, but then again, Evelyn hadn’t expected to break the rule herself. Not until she’d met Ralph.
A torrent of French greeted them as they set their dishes beside the kitchen’s enormous sink. The hospital cook stood at the back door, shaking her spoon at a dark-headed youngster.
“S’il vous plaît?” the boy entreated.
“Non pas de pain,” the cook responded. She slammed the door in the boy’s disheartened face and muttered under her breath. Throwing a pointed look at Evelyn and Alice, she returned to her table and began whacking dough with a stick.
“Come on, Evelyn.” Alice retreated back toward the entrance to the large dining hall. None of the twenty nurses at St. Vincent’s liked spending much time in the kitchen with the cantankerous cook.
“I’ll be along in a minute. You go ahead.”
The moment her roommate left, Evelyn took both the half-nibbled rolls from their plates and discreetly put them into her free pocket. While she might not be able to stomach much food, that didn’t mean someone else should go away hungry. She retraced her steps to the dining hall and let herself out one of the hospital’s rear entrances. A welcoming breeze loosened bits of her dark hair from underneath her nurse’s cap. Evelyn tucked them back and eyed the sky. Gray clouds overhead promised rain.
Before her, the back lawn of the hospital extended long and wide, bordered by forests of beech and oak trees. The hospital itself had originally been a château, rebuilt in the 1860s and bequeathed to the Sisters of Charity. The living quarters for the hospital staff stood to her left in what had once been the orangery and beyond that sat an ancient stone church. Though different from the clapboard building she’d attended as a child, she couldn’t help wondering each time she saw the old building how many weddings, funerals, and services had been held within its rock walls. Would it see another hundred years’ worth of worship and poignant moments or fall, ravaged by the war like so many other towns and villages?
Out of the corner of her eye, Evelyn caught sight of black hair as the beggar boy rounded the hospital. “Wait! Attendez!” she called out as she jogged after him. “Please, wait.”
He stopped so suddenly Evelyn nearly ran into him. Large black eyes peered up at her from a dirt-smudged face. They looked neither sad nor angry, but resigned and weary, though the boy couldn’t be more than six years old. That wizened look constricted Evelyn’s heart more than the other signs of poverty about him—the cuts on his shins and the disheveled state of his shirt and trousers.
“Parlez-vous Anglais?” she inquired. She hoped he spoke English. Her French was still quite rudimentary, despite the months she’d spent in his country as a nurse.
He cocked his head and nodded.
“Wonderful. What’s your name?”
“Loo-ee. Louis Rousseau.”
Evelyn smiled. “Bonjour, Louis. I’m Nurse Gray.”
“Got any coffin nails or chocolate?”
She bit back a laugh at the familiar term for cigarettes. “You learned English from some soldiers, didn’t you?”
Louis shook his head. “Ma grand-mère taught me the English. But ma mère takes our vegetables into the market and sometimes the Americans buy some. She didn’t sell much yesterday. I was trying to beg some petit de pain off that tête de chou. That cabbage-headed cook. But she just say ‘non, non.’”
The brief glimpse into the boy’s day-to-day life made Evelyn all the more grateful she’d taken the uneaten food to give him. While she understood the cook and her staff had to keep an entire hospital from going hungry, Evelyn still believed a little kindness in these dark times was equally important.
“Tell you what, Louis. I didn’t finish all my bread today and I’d like you to have it.” She removed the rolls, which were slightly squished now, and held them out to him.
His eyes widened as he stared at the bread, then at her.
“Go on. You can have it.”
He carefully took the rolls from her. One he bit into at once, but the other he held in his free hand. “Ma mère can eat this one. Merci.”
“You’re welcome.”
A flood of emotion filled her as she watched him lean against the hospital wall to eat the meager meal. He was clearly famished, but he ate the bread slowly. Watching him, her thoughts turned to the life growing inside her.
Perhaps the baby would be a boy—a little dark-haired fellow with an impish glint in his black eyes just like his father. She could imagine her and Ralph and their child, and hopefully the other children that would follow, sitting on the porch of her grandparents’ house—her house—laughing and sipping lemonade. The loneliness she’d experienced since her father’s death would disappear, and the large, empty house would be filled with laughter and life and people.
She’d always envied those of her schoolmates with large families and two living parents. While she never doubted the love her father and grandparents felt for her, she still used to pretend she had a whole slew of brothers and sisters—a complete family. Soon, that dream would be realized. Once she and Ralph married, she would be a wife and eventually a mother, with a family of her own.
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” she asked Louis, reluctant to return indoors. The heat and smells inside the hospital made her nausea worse.
Louis shook his head. “It’s only me and ma mère.”
Did Louis long for more family as she did? “Where’s your father?”
The boy lowered his gaze to the grass. “He was a soldier…but he got killed last year.” His brow pinched with sorrow, the same emotion tugging at Evelyn’s own heart. So many men gone…
Losing her father had been devastating, and she hadn’t been a child. Even now, there were countless moments when she missed him with an intensity that made his death feel as fresh as yesterday. The similarities between her and the young boy poking at the ground with his big toe ran deeper than she would have guessed.
Squatting down in front of Louis, she rested her hands on his thin shoulders. “My father died, too.”
“Was he a brave soldier like mon père?”
“In a way. He was a doctor, so he helped people fight battles of illness and disease.”
Louis lifted his chin to look her in the eye. “How’d he die?”
“His heart stopped working one day.”
“Et votre mère?”
And your mother? Seventeen years without a mother still hadn’t erased the longing Evelyn felt whenever people asked. “My mother died when I was five years old. But she’d been sick for a long time.” The word cancer settled on her tongue, but she swallowed it back. The boy didn’t need to know and probably wouldn’t understand the whole ugly truth about her mother’s condition.
Louis’s brow furrowed. “Who takes care of you?”
The inquiry was said with so much seriousness that Evelyn didn’t dare laugh. She chose not to say “myself,” despite its being the truth. She’d been taking care of herself, more or less, since her father’s death. But she recognized what Louis was really asking. Did she have any other family or was she all alone in the world? She cringed inwardly at the thought of having no one. “My grandparents are waiting for me back in America.”
Her answer seemed to satisfy him.
“I’d better go,” he said, wiping the crumbs from his mouth with his sleeve.
Evelyn stood. “So should I. Do you live close by?”
He pointed south. “La Troumont.” Evelyn recognized the name of the nearby village. “Au revoir, Nurse Gray.”
“Au revoir, Louis. I hope to see you again soon.”
He grinned, then spun around and darted into the trees.
* * *
When he disappeared from view, Evelyn retraced her steps to the rear entrance of the hospital. It wouldn’t do to be late to her assigned ward, especially if Sister Marcelle chose today to make her inspection.
Evelyn passed through the empty dining hall. The sounds of her footsteps echoing off the high walls and marbled floors accompanied her as she moved toward the opposite end. The room that now housed long tables and benches for meals had once been a ballroom.
She liked to fancy herself in a silk dress and Ralph in his Army uniform waltzing around the ornate room, her cheek to his stubbled one, his hand firm against her back. He’d murmur funny or complimentary endearments in her ear as he had when they’d danced on leave two months before. The memories made her shiver with yearning and anticipation. Perhaps after the wedding, they could find a place to honeymoon for a few days so they could dance or explore again.
Smiling at the thought, Evelyn climbed the stairs to the wards on the second floor. The stone walls of the old château kept the place from being completely miserable now that it was the middle of summer, but she still felt the air growing warmer as she ascended. At the top, she smoothed her apron. She tried to recall from her days assisting her father how early a woman’s belly began expanding when she was pregnant. Four months? Five? Hopefully Ralph would be the first in his regiment to get leave, so she wouldn’t be showing too much by the time he came for her.
“There you are, Nurse Gray.” Sister Henriette met Evelyn outside the door of her assigned ward. The woman’s face glimmered with sweat beneath her wide, white headdress. It reminded Evelyn of the sailboats she’d seen as a child on Lake Michigan.
“I’m sorry I’m late, Sister. I had a quick errand to do first.”
Sister Henriette waved away her apology. “Sister Marcelle wishes to speak with you.”
“With me?” Something akin to panic wormed its way up Evelyn’s spine and, with it, a new wave of sickness. She hadn’t committed any infractions since transferring to St. Vincent’s six weeks ago. Did that mean Sister Marcelle, the hospital administrator, had discovered her secret?
“You’re not in trouble, child. She only wishes to ask you about a change in assignment.”
Relief made her shoulders droop and relaxed her tight jaw. Evelyn dipped her head in acknowledgment. A new assignment she could handle, though it did seem odd Sister Marcelle wouldn’t simply ask Sister Henriette to pass on the information.
“She is waiting in her office. Just report back to the ward when you are finished.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She strode down the hallway with new confidence, passing the open doors of the other wards on both sides. The murmur of voices and occasional laughter floated out to her. After climbing another set of stairs, Evelyn paused outside the worn wooden door of Sister Marcelle’s tiny office. She knocked once and an alto voice called out, “You may enter.”
After stepping inside, Evelyn stood before Sister Marcelle’s large desk. Stacks of papers and ledgers stood in neat piles on one side. The only other furniture in the room was two wooden chairs, one occupied by Sister Marcelle. A large crucifix hung on the wall behind the sister. Just as Evelyn had on her first visit to this office, she avoided looking directly at the cross.
“Ah, Nurse Gray. Thank you for coming.” The sister’s blue-gray eyes, the same color as the dress she wore, shone bright with kindness. Unlike the other sisters, she spoke with nearly no trace of a French accent.
“Sister Henriette said you wished to see me.”
“Yes.” Sister Marcelle motioned to the chair opposite the desk. “Please have a seat.”
Evelyn perched on the edge of the chair.
Sister Marcelle folded her hands on top of the desk. “As I am sure you are aware, Sister Pauline is in charge of Sister Henriette’s wards at night. Howev. . .
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