Dancing in the Rain (18 page)

There were a dozen things Dwight wanted to discuss, but one outweighed the others. “I heard a rumor, and I wondered if it was true.”

Though he would not have thought it possible, her pallor increased. She was obviously uneasy, and that wasn’t like Carolyn any more than staring at the ground was. More than anyone Dwight knew, she was self-confident. He knew from the stories she had shared with him that even when she was unsure of herself, she put on a brave front, convincing others that she was carefree Carolyn. Today was different. This was not the Carolyn who had worn a clothespin and danced in the rain.

She shrugged her shoulders but failed to meet his gaze. “I guess it depends on the rumor. You know most are pure fiction.” Though she managed a laugh, it was so devoid of mirth that it failed to reassure him. A gust of wind tugged at Carolyn’s cap and blew through Dwight’s shirt, chilling him almost as much as Carolyn’s forced laughter.

“I heard you asked for a transfer.” It was amazing how much it hurt even to pronounce the words. When he had heard the rumor, Dwight had been shocked by the depth of the pain he had felt. He and Carolyn were friends; he was certain of that. Why, then, hadn’t she discussed her plans with him? Surely that was something friends did. Surely whatever it was that had made her seem so distant recently wasn’t serious enough to keep her from telling him she was leaving Goudot.

Carolyn clenched her hands in a nervous gesture he had never before seen. “That rumor is true,” she said quietly.

“Why?” Dwight demanded. Though she had spoken softly, his question came out with more force than he had intended. “Don’t you like working with me?” That was one of the fears that had haunted his days, that and the fear that he had destroyed their friendship by kissing her. Perhaps he should apologize for the kiss, but it would be a lie to say that he regretted it. He didn’t regret the kiss. How could he, when it was the brightest spot in his life since he had come to France? If he were being totally honest, he would admit that the kiss he and Carolyn had shared was the brightest spot in his life. Period. How could he regret that? What he regretted was the loss of the camaraderie he and Carolyn used to share.

Shaking her head, she said, “It’s not that I don’t like working with you. I’m worried about Theo and Ed.” Though the words sounded sincere, Carolyn refused to meet his gaze, making Dwight wonder if there was more to her decision than the reason she had given. “I want to be closer to them,” she added.

Another gust of wind reminded Dwight that he was not dressed for the weather. He would have encouraged Carolyn to go inside, but now that she was finally talking, he didn’t want to do anything that might stop the flow of conversation. “I thought you were comfortable with your brother’s situation. Did something happen that I don’t know about?” That hurt, too. She had come to him the day she had received Theo’s letter with its premonition of danger. If there was more disturbing news, why hadn’t she shared it with him?

This time Carolyn raised her eyes to meet his. “Ed’s last letters worry me. I want to do whatever I can for him.”

Dwight swallowed deeply. Ed. Of course. That was what made the difference. That was why Carolyn had behaved so out of character recently. She was worried about Ed. Dwight couldn’t even chide her for not confiding in him when he himself hadn’t told Carolyn his worries about Louise until she had pried them from him.

Dwight nodded, acknowledging Carolyn’s words and agreeing that her decision was right. He was being selfish, wanting her to stay here, to help him in surgery, to brighten his days. Carolyn was promised to another man. Of course her first loyalty had to be to Ed. Of course she had to do whatever she could to keep her future husband safe. It was only Dwight’s foolishness that made him wish someone cared for him the way Carolyn did for Ed. Ed Bleeker was a lucky man.

“Is there anything I can do to help you?” After all the assistance she had given him, the least Dwight could do was offer to help her.

“No.” Carolyn’s lovely blue eyes filled with pain. “This is something only I can do.”

He understood that. He might not like the thought of Carolyn’s leaving or the fact that she would be in more danger closer to the front, but he understood that this was something she had to do alone. “Just remember that I’m your friend.” Oh, how he hoped she still viewed him in that light! “If you ever need me, all you have to do is ask.”

Carolyn gave him a long, appraising look. “Thanks,” she said at last. It was a single word, but the tone told Dwight that she would never ask. The magic they had once shared was gone.

“Carolyn, I have a letter for you.” The mailman handed her an envelope as he distributed letters in the dining room. Carolyn reached for it eagerly, hoping it was from either Theo or Ed, but the handwriting was one she did not recognize. Judging from the script, the author was a man. Carolyn thought quickly. It had been two weeks since Dwight had spoken to her in the courtyard, two weeks and two days since she had requested her transfer. Perhaps the letter was her new orders. Then she realized that those would come through Miss Pierce. Why was a strange man writing to her?

Curious, Carolyn hurried back to her room. No matter how the other residents would open their mail in the common areas, sharing tidbits with anyone who would listen, she preferred her privacy. Normally she would brew a pot of tea and settle into the rocking chair to read her letters. Today she waited only until she was inside her room to slit the envelope. As her eyes scanned the single sheet of paper, Carolyn felt the blood drain from her face. Stunned, she gripped the back of the chair, then sank heavily onto her bed.

It can’t be true! Please, God, don’t let it be true!
But as she read the words for a second and then a third time, Carolyn knew this was not a nightmare from which she would awaken. This was real. Ed was dead. A member of his company had written, knowing that the official notification would go to Ed’s mother and that it might be several weeks before Carolyn heard the news. Ed, the stranger wrote, had volunteered to go behind enemy lines and had been killed by a grenade. But before he had died, Ed had destroyed a critical radio tower. He was a hero.
No!
Carolyn cried.
I didn’t want you to be a hero! I wanted you to be safe.

As the tears streamed down Carolyn’s face, she folded the letter and replaced it in the envelope, and as she did, she realized that the stranger had sent something else. Carolyn stared at the unopened letter. She didn’t need to read it to know what it said. This was the letter she had written to Ed, begging him to stay safe, the letter that had been delayed because of the influx of wounded. Ed had not received it, and so he had volunteered for a dangerous mission.

Would he have acted any differently if he had read her letter? Carolyn didn’t know. All she knew was that she had failed Ed. She had agreed to marry him. She had come to France to be near him. She had done both of those things to keep him alive, but they hadn’t been enough. She had failed Ed, and in failing him, she had failed herself.

As sobs wracked her body, Carolyn curled into a ball on her bed and wept for the loss of her friend and the dreams that would never come true. She wept for Ed’s mother, who would replace the blue star in her window with a gold one. But most of all she wept for Ed, whose life had ended much too soon.

Carolyn wasn’t sure how long she lay there. She was vaguely aware that the sun had set. How fitting that she was in the darkness. When she heard footsteps and the door opened, she buried her head in the pillow.

“What’s wrong?” When Carolyn said nothing, Helen switched on the light, then ran to Carolyn’s side. Wrapping her arms around her, she repeated her question.

Reluctantly Carolyn struggled to a sitting position. “Ed’s dead.” It was the first time she had said the words aloud, and the simple act of speaking them deepened her anguish. It was true. She couldn’t deny it. Ed, her best friend, the man she had promised to marry, the man she had somehow failed to protect, was gone.

“Oh, Carolyn.” Helen stroked Carolyn’s head, trying to soothe her. “I’m so sorry.”

She didn’t understand. Carolyn brushed off Helen’s hand. “Leave me alone.” When Helen’s eyes widened in surprise at Carolyn’s curt tone, she continued, “Go away, Helen. You can’t help me. No one can.”

But Helen was not so easily discouraged. No matter what Carolyn said, she continued her attempts to comfort her. Finally, Carolyn buried her head under the pillow and refused to listen. Helen didn’t understand that no one could provide solace. Only a worthy person deserved solace, and Carolyn was not worthy.

Dwight stared at the obviously distraught woman who had barged into one of the wards, demanding to speak to him. “If she won’t listen to you,” he said at last when he had heard her story, “I doubt I can help.”

Helen Guthrie’s brown eyes were filled with pain and her hands were clenched as if she were trying to control her emotions. “Please try, Doctor Hollins. You’re my last hope.”

He nodded, though there was no denying his reluctance. As a physician, he would have gone to anyone who was in the agony Helen described, and he would have tried to relieve the patient’s suffering. But this was not an ordinary patient; it was Carolyn who needed help. A month ago, Dwight would have been confident that he could help her. Today, he feared that he would only worsen what appeared to be a very difficult situation. Still, he had to try, for he could not bear the thought of Carolyn’s unhappiness.

Minutes later he rapped on the door to her room. “We need to talk.”

“Go away.” Her voice was so thick with tears that he barely recognized it. “I don’t want to talk.” This was what Helen had feared, that Carolyn would refuse to see him, just as she had refused Helen’s attempts to comfort her.

“I’m not going away,” Dwight said. Though Carolyn might be stubborn, so was he. “I’m prepared to stand here knocking on your door until you come out.”

There was a long silence during which he feared that she would simply ignore him. Then Dwight heard the sound of footsteps, slow, almost shuffling, so different from Carolyn’s normally light movements that he cringed. When the door opened, he hoped his expression did not betray his shock. He had known that Carolyn’s face would be blotched from crying; he had expected that. What he had not expected was the dull, almost lifeless expression in her eyes. She looked like a person on the verge of death.

“Dwight, I know you mean well,” Carolyn said, her voice as flat and expressionless as her eyes. “You can’t help me, though. No one can.”

This was what Helen had told him, that Carolyn somehow felt that nothing and no one could provide comfort. It was not a rational thought, but in times of great stress, people were not always rational. Dwight had seen the way shock could affect a person.

“I thought the same thing once,” he reminded her, “and you proved me wrong.”

Carolyn shook her head. “This is different.”

“Of course it is.” A broken engagement could not compare to a fiancé’s death. “What you’re facing is much more serious. Still, a friend can help. I’m your friend, Carolyn, and I don’t want you to be alone.”

Though he had thought she might refuse, when he suggested that they go to the staff lounge, she agreed, albeit reluctantly. This was a positive sign, he told himself. She hadn’t refused his offer completely. “It’s all right to cry or even to scream if you want,” Dwight said when they were in the former library. The fact that the room was empty was the second positive sign. “This war is horrible. It’s cruel, and it’s unfair.” Dwight put his hand on top of Carolyn’s. Hers was cold and—though he knew it was impossible—seemed to have shrunk. “Ed shouldn’t have died.” He was stating facts, hoping that somehow he could break through the wall she had built around her emotions. He wished he could somehow prod her into anger, for that would mean that the healing had begun. First shock, then anger. Dwight had seen the pattern and had experienced it himself.

Though he had thought she might continue to stare at the floor, Carolyn met his gaze. For the briefest of instants Dwight wished he hadn’t seen the pain reflected in her eyes. No one should have to suffer that way.

“You don’t understand,” Carolyn said. “No one does.”

“I may not understand everything you’re feeling, but I know what it’s like to deal with death.”

She shook her head again. “You don’t understand,” she insisted. “You’ve never been in my situation.”

“You’re right,” he agreed. “I did not lose my fiancée to death.” Though his heart had ached when Louise rejected him, it hadn’t taken long for Dwight to realize that it was his pride, not his heart, that had been bruised. Carolyn’s situation was far more serious.

“It’s not that.” Carolyn turned her hand over and gripped his. “Oh, Dwight, I killed him. I killed Ed!”

Dwight was unable to mask his surprise. This, then, was the reason Carolyn was in such agony. Somehow, for some inexplicable reason, she believed she was culpable. It was up to him to convince her otherwise. “What do you mean? You couldn’t have killed Ed.”

Her grip tightened, and Dwight sensed that she was holding onto him as if he were a lifeline. This was good. In fact, it was very good. Perhaps speaking of her fears would be like lancing and cauterizing a wound. Perhaps it would be the first step toward healing.