A Memory Between Us (44 page)

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Authors: Sarah Sundin

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BOOK: A Memory Between Us
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May pulled back and held Ruth by the shoulders. “This is wonderful news. I’ll send Charlie a telegram. He’ll be so relieved and so will …”

Ruth’s grin collapsed. “Charlie told him?”

“Well, yes.”

Ruth groaned. “Just what he needs. Doesn’t he have enough concerns of his own?” A near drowning? What a terrible thing for Jack to endure. Not only had he almost died, but in the way he feared most.

“Funny. He didn’t want you to know about his ordeal either. He didn’t want to add to your troubles.” One corner of May’s mouth elevated somewhere between sympathy and amusement. It settled back down to sympathy. “He’s worried about you.”

Ruth screwed her eyes shut. She didn’t deserve his concern, not after how she’d treated him. “Tell him I’m okay. I am.”

“I know. Charlie keeps telling him, but he doesn’t believe it.”

Ruth fixed her gaze on May. “Make him believe.”

“I can’t. Charlie can’t. He won’t believe unless he sees.”

“Oh no.” She whirled away and aimed for the barracks. “Oh no, no, no. That’s the worst thing—”

“It’s the best thing for both—”

“Oh no. You don’t know.”

“I know you still care about him.”

Ruth slammed into the wall of truth.

May took her arm. “What’s the matter?”

The force of the collision made Ruth’s eyes water. “I don’t—I don’t just care for him. I love him.”

May’s face turned soft and fuzzy. “Oh, honey, that’s wonderful. So, go to him.”

“Oh no.” Her head wagged from side to side. Go to him? If she went to him, she’d have to do what she should have done months before—offer him her heart and her life. “Oh, May, didn’t Charlie say he kept talking about toy planes and glue? He knows it’s too late, and so do I.”

Furrows divided May’s pale forehead. “Still … maybe …” The furrows deepened. She was giving up, as Jack had already done.

Ruth headed back to the barracks with May. Go to him? Over the last few days, she couldn’t shake this prodding. Go to him. Like Ruth in the Bible, she was being called to the threshing floor to present herself to a godly, respected man, to uncover his feet and lay herself down.

Go to him.

Ruth looked west, where dark clouds marred the horizon.
Oh Lord, was
that
Ruth terrified at the idea? Because I am. How could I do that? Jack doesn’t love me anymore. I can’t imagine what he’d think.

Trust me, trust me, trust me, God kept saying, and she had obeyed so far. But this?
Lord, if only I knew what Jack …

Her sigh joined the wind from the sea. If she knew the results, it wouldn’t be trust.

62

65th General Hospital

Saturday, June 24, 1944

Jack gave his lunch tray to the medic, appropriately named Sergeant Sauer, and stared at the clock. Only 1309? He couldn’t make it move faster with the dry books Ray had loaned him nor with conversation. Richards to his left slept, and Henderson to his right had his jaws wired.

A letter? No, he’d sent long letters to everyone he knew within the past week, and he couldn’t write the letter on his heart. Ruth told him to leave her alone, not to write whenever he got news. But what good news—Burns in jail, and Ruth free and cleared and vindicated.

Jack picked up the
Stars and Stripes
. He’d read it this morning, but maybe he missed an article or two. He flipped through. Nope, he’d read every stinking word.

He gazed out the window, where blue skies taunted him. He would gladly put up with Lieutenant Taylor or Sergeant Sauer or a bittersweet memory of Ruth to feel wind and sun on his face, but both Perky and Sauer were busier than ever with D-Day casualties.

The door swung open. Every man in the ward looked up, but only Jack smiled. Good old Charlie held the door open for May, and Jack’s smile grew. He hadn’t seen her for weeks, and she would have news about—

Ruth? His heart stopped as if bogged in one of Ray’s books.

Her eyes were wide and dark, her mouth formed a tiny knot, and the sling cut a stark white triangle across her gray blue uniform. The thought of what Burns did to her smacked Jack in the face and started his heart again. Now if he could only close his jaw.

What brought her here? Did Charlie and May trick her with some ruse about looking around Redgrave Park for old time’s sake?

“Hi there, Skipper.”

Jack maneuvered his mouth into a smile. “Hi, everyone. What a surprise.”

One look at Ruth’s pale, drawn face told him Charlie had been lying. She was not all right. Far from it. Now Charlie brought her here? What was he thinking? Jack had to keep the visit as short as possible to show respect for Ruth. However, Charlie and May pulled up chairs, and Ruth sat right on the cot.

May looped her arm through Charlie’s and leaned forward. “How do you feel?”

Jack shrugged. “Can’t wait to get out of traction, out of this cast, out of the hospital. What about you? Got a forty-eight-hour pass from Prestwick?” He looked at May only.

“No.” She chuckled and glanced at Ruth, but Jack didn’t follow her gaze. “We were called back from Temporary Duty the other day, and were immediately sent on another TDY to Membury over in Berkshire.”

“Membury? Say, Charlie, that’s good for you.”

“Sure is. Still a long train ride, but we can see each other more often.”

“Will you fly into Normandy?” Jack asked May.

Her face lit up. “Yes. We’ll really get to put our training to use.”

May kept talking and Jack kept nodding, but all he noticed was the warmth of Ruth’s hip seeping through his blanket to his good leg. Swell. She’d think he was making advances, just what she needed in her present condition. He eased his foot away from her.

Ruth glanced at his leg, then up to him.

Jack cut his gaze back to May. “Sounds great. Bet you can’t wait to get started.”

“Oh, we can’t, but poor Ruth has to wait a few more weeks.”

Now he had to give Ruth an acknowledging nod. The directness of her gaze threw him. Her expression held fear, but it held something else, something unfamiliar and undecipherable that flung his heart into a spiral. He whipped back to May. “So—”

“This ward sure brings back memories.” May snuggled up to Charlie. “Wouldn’t it be fun to see our favorite spots again?”

The perfect opportunity to cut the visit short. Real short. “Yeah, wouldn’t you—”

“Lieutenant?” Charlie hailed the nurse. “Could I get a wheelchair for my friend, please?”

Oh boy. As much as he wanted a walk and some company, he didn’t want to prolong Ruth’s agony. “You don’t have to drag me along. I’m kind of tired anyway.”

“Exactly.” May stood and started to unhook the traction apparatus. “You’re tired because you’re cooped up all day.”

Lieutenant Perky got Jack into his bathrobe, into the wheelchair, and bundled in enough blankets to stay warm in the Arctic. Jack mouthed along when she chirped, “Snug as a bug in a rug.”

Charlie wheeled him outside, and Jack’s face rose to the sun’s warmth. What a shame to ruin a beautiful day with an awkward situation. The ladies fell several paces behind, probably so Ruth could give May a heated piece of her mind. Jack wanted to do the same to Charlie, but his voice would carry.

Yes, his voice would carry. He could use that.

“Nice day for a change.” He settled back in the wheelchair as Charlie guided him across the road toward the park. “Won’t miss this weather. I’ll think of you as I bask in the balmy Pacific. Our troops are on Saipan now, right in range for the B-29s.”

Charlie laughed. “Have you forgotten the bugs and humidity? Balmy comes at a price.”

“It’ll be worth it to be behind the controls of a Superfort—8,800 horsepower, 3,000-mile range, 20,000-pound bomb load, and don’t forget the pressurized cabins—no more oxygen masks.”

“You’re serious about this?”

“Absolutely.” Jack raised his voice a notch for Ruth’s benefit, to prove he no longer harbored notions of winning her over. “Yesterday I put in my transfer request.”

“Hmm.” Charlie pushed the chair through the grass and among the trees. “I thought you might change your mind with your brother here.”

“Nope. Got that straightened out.” The bumps in the grass made him glad his injury was in his foot this time and not his backside. “We got Ray assigned to the 94th, and Dougher promised to find him a noncombat position, much better suited to his abilities.”

Charlie came to a stop. “Which way, Ruth?”

“Over there. That big tree by the lake.”

Jack turned and stared at her. What was going on?

Charlie pushed Jack to the sturdy oak. May took one of the blankets from his lap, and she and Ruth spread it on the ground. Why would Ruth pick the spot where they’d had their first picnic and many others?

“A picnic?” Jack asked.

“Do you see any food?” Charlie laughed and helped him to stand. Jack leaned on his friend to hop over to the blanket. If they were settling down, this visit would drag on for some time.

When he was seated on the blanket with his back against the tree trunk, the women piled blankets on his lap and tucked them around his outstretched legs. “Comfortable?” May asked.

Jack gave her a stiff smile. “Snug as a bug in a rug.” Or a caterpillar encased in a cocoon.

“Wonderful.” May turned to Charlie. “Ready for our walk?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Jack gaped at them. Why would they bring him outside only to leave him stranded alone under a tree?

May sent a series of strange expressions over to Ruth, who stood at the edge of the blanket to Jack’s right.

“All right then.” Ruth’s voice sounded high and tinny. “Off you go. We’ll see you later.”

63

Ruth’s stomach contorted so its shape no longer resembled the lake in front of her. Why on earth was she here? This was a disaster. From the moment she’d entered the ward, every look, every word, every action showed Jack wanted nothing to do with her. Even Charlie and May’s presence hadn’t eased the tension.

Still, she had to trust God and do what she’d come to do. She coiled her fingers around her purse strap and turned to Jack propped against the oak. His expression sent spasms through her stomach. He definitely didn’t want to be alone with her.

“You don’t have to,” he said. “You don’t have to stay on my account.”

A polite stab, and well deserved. She was the one who told him to go away. “Um, yes, I do. I do have to stay. On your account.”

His forehead bunched up.

“Charlie and May said you were worried about me. That’s why I’m here,” she said to remind herself as much as to explain to Jack. “Well, one of the reasons. So you’d see I’m all right. So you wouldn’t worry.” She tried to give him an assuring smile.

Concern joined the confusion in his expression.

Ruth groaned and tilted her face to the sky. “I know I don’t look all right, but it’s not because of Burns. It isn’t. I’m just nervous, incredibly nervous, but I really am all right.”

“Okay.” He didn’t sound convinced.

She drew a deep breath and lowered her gaze to Jack. “I
am
all right. Not because of my strength but because of God’s. He was with me that day. Last time I pushed him away, but this time I trusted him—not to get me out of the situation, but to get me through. And he did. Even if the worst had happened, the Lord would have seen me through. I know it.”

Jack’s face relaxed somewhat.

She stepped closer. “I’m not broken, Jack. Not this time. Last time my watch was shattered, and so was I. This time my watch had a few gears knocked loose—it’s already been fixed—but it wasn’t shattered, and neither was I. In fact, I’ve never felt more whole. Even if I’d gone to prison, I know the Lord would have kept me under his wings. Do you see? Do you see I’m all right?”

For a long moment, Jack studied her. “Yeah. Yeah, I see.”

“Thank goodness. I didn’t want you to worry about me, not after what you’ve been through.”

He shrugged and glanced toward the lake. “Ah, that was nothing.”

“Nothing?” Her laugh drew back his attention. “Nothing? You faced your worst fear that day.”

“So did you.”

“Yes, but you chose to. You chose to trust God and face that fear, even though I know you could have landed that plane.”

A smile twitched on his lips, and he turned back to the lake. “Most likely. I couldn’t take that risk, but I hated to ditch.”

It was time, but Ruth’s feet balked on every step, and only strength of will bent her knees so she could sit on the blanket beside Jack. Although overpowered by his presence, she forced a smile. “Watching that plane sink probably bothered you as much as facing death.”

His face folded into amused crinkles. “She was a swell plane.”

Ruth could raise her hand and trace those sweet crinkles and say all those words she needed to say, the words she’d rehearsed that felt foreign but right. So why couldn’t she move her hand or her tongue?

“My last B-17,” he said. “Next bird will be a B-29 Superfortress.”

“In the Pacific.” The words tasted foul—she had pushed him away, half a world away.

“If they accept my transfer, but Dougher’s sure they will.”

She could congratulate him and bid him farewell, and he’d never be the wiser, but no, she had to do this. She had to. “Would you—would you like my opinion?”

A flicker of surprise, and then he shrugged. “Sure.”

“I think …” She slid her hand inside the sling and rubbed the rough plaster. “I think you should stay. Your brother’s here, and Charlie, and—and I think you should take the promotion and the position at Bury. You’ve earned it and you’d make a good air executive. I think you should. I really think you should.”

Now for the hardest part. She was on the threshing floor, and in front of her lay the blanketed feet of the man she loved. Jack deserved this. Even though it was too late, he deserved to know he had won her heart and her trust.

“I think …” She forced out a trapped breath. “I think …”

Ruth leaned forward, grabbed the edge of the blanket, and pulled it back to reveal one foot in a black sock and the other in a white cast with five bare toes peeking out. There, she did it. In one gesture she told him everything on her heart.

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