Dancing in the Rain (20 page)

Oh, how he needed her! He needed her in the operating room. He needed her in the wards. Most of all, he needed her in his arms. Dwight stopped in mid-stride. If he needed her, why was he letting her get away? He had made a mistake, asking her to marry him when she’d been overwhelmed with grief. Though he couldn’t undo that, he could try again.

Carolyn had once accused him of being like a general, planning his life as if it were a military campaign. She had thought lack of spontaneity was a fault. Perhaps it wasn’t, at least not for him. Dwight was good at planning; he was good at strategy. Where he failed was when he forgot that and acted without thinking. It was time to put his skills to work.

“Nurse Guthrie.” When he had filled his tray with food that suddenly looked appetizing, Dwight took a seat next to Carolyn’s former roommate. He tried not to notice how the other nurses quickly finished their breakfast, leaving Dwight and Helen alone at the table. Though he felt a twinge of regret that most of the nursing staff still seemed to regard him as an ogre, he could not regret the fact that he could now have a private conversation with Helen.

“What is it women want?” he asked. As he had crossed the courtyard, mentally planning his campaign, Dwight had realized that he was venturing into unknown and possibly hostile territory and would need assistance. Helen Guthrie, he reasoned, was uniquely positioned to give him that assistance. Not only had she been Carolyn’s closest friend here, but she was also married. That meant that she had first-hand knowledge of love and courtship.

Helen gave him an appraising look. “Are you interested in women in general or one specific woman?”

There was no point in denying the obvious. “One woman. To put it bluntly, I need to know what Carolyn would like.” He hated asking for help, but if he was going to succeed—and he would not admit the possibility of failure—he needed it.

The little smile that played at the corner of Helen’s lips told Dwight she was enjoying his discomfiture. Helen was silent for a moment, making Dwight fear that she would refuse to answer. At last she spoke. “Carolyn never said it in so many words, but even though she was engaged, I suspect she was never wooed. Almost every woman would like a real courtship.”

The eggs that had seemed delicious a second before lost their flavor. “A courtship like flowers, candy, and poetry?” This was worse than he’d feared. Dwight’s sisters had had heated arguments over which element of courtship was the most important. Though he had dismissed their conversations, now he wished he had listened more carefully.

“Exactly.” Helen smiled, and this time there was no doubt that she was laughing inwardly at his ignorance.

A courtship. Dwight blinked as he realized that it wasn’t only Carolyn who had become engaged without one. Though he had placed a diamond on her left hand, he had never wooed Louise. In fact, he reflected, he hadn’t actually asked her to marry him. He had simply bought the ring Louise had selected and given it to her on the day she had said she wanted to be engaged. Was that part of the reason Louise had eloped with the Ford repairman? Had Harold provided all the niceties that Dwight had not? Dwight clenched his jaw. He would not make the same mistake with Carolyn. If she wanted to be wooed, he would woo her. His step lighter than it had been in weeks, Dwight headed for the operating theater.

By late afternoon, his initial optimism had begun to fade. Helen had made it sound simple. Flowers, candy, poetry. Surely that couldn’t be as difficult as repairing a torn artery. It was, Dwight could now attest, worse. Why had he picked winter in a war zone for his courtship? There were no flowers available in February; the supply of candy was meager; and the only poetry was written in French. Since his own command of the language was more meager than the supply of candy, he wasn’t willing to give Carolyn poems. What if they weren’t as romantic as the shopkeeper claimed? Though he had intended to buy all three things Helen claimed were needed for a proper wooing, Dwight returned from town with nothing more than a single tin of chocolates. This was not the most auspicious beginning.

Think like a general,
he admonished himself.
Find another plan.
What was it his sisters had claimed was so romantic? Dwight wished there were time to ask them, even though it would mean that they would spend hours laughing at him. But time was one thing he did not have. He couldn’t go on like this much longer.
Think!
Dwight closed his eyes, trying to recall the girls’ whispered confidences.
He’s so handsome. He said the most romantic things.
That was it. He would have to do his wooing in person.

Dwight frowned at the prospect. It was one thing to send a tin of candy. He didn’t have to watch Carolyn’s reaction when she received the package. He would never know if she had given the chocolates to other nurses or patients rather than eating them herself. But if he visited her, he was running the risk that she would refuse to see him. Dwight did not like risk.
Nothing ventured, nothing …
For the first time that day, Dwight grinned. He was starting to sound like Carolyn’s fictitious grandmother. Surely that was a good sign.

She shouldn’t be here. It was her half day off, and for once the sun was shining. She should take advantage of the pleasant weather to escape from the hospital, if only for a few minutes. Instead, she sat on the edge of her cot, too tired to even open a book. She had to shake this lethargy. It was interfering with everything, including her ability to assist the doctors. She knew what she needed to do. Finding the energy to do it was the problem.

“You have a visitor in the mess tent.” One of Carolyn’s tent mates stuck her head through the flap.

Carolyn looked up in surprise. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Theo wasn’t due for leave for another month, and though they were hoping to arrange some time together, they had both agreed that they wanted to meet away from the battle zone.

“Who is it, Margaret?” Even to Carolyn’s ears, her voice sounded dull and lifeless. It was no wonder, when that was the way she felt.

The other woman shrugged. “He wouldn’t tell me his name, but he’s very handsome.”

A tiny seed of hope lodged in Carolyn’s heart. It couldn’t be him, could it? And even if it was, she didn’t want him here, did she? There was only one way to find out. “Thanks, Margaret.” Carolyn grabbed her cape. As she headed toward the medium-sized tent that functioned as a general meeting place in addition to a dining room, a small shiver of anticipation went up her spine. The visitor could be someone else, perhaps one of Ed’s friends. But it could also be …

He stood inside the tent. Though his clothing was mud-stained and his face lined with fatigue, Carolyn was certain she had never seen anything so wonderful in her life. The lethargy and sense of emptiness that had plagued her from the day she had arrived here were gone, replaced by a simple happiness. “Dwight!” Miss Pierce had been right when she had advised Carolyn to remain in the familiar surroundings of Goudot. It was surely only the sight of a familiar face that made Carolyn feel this way. She would have felt the same way if Helen had come. Of course she would.

Carolyn extended a hand in greeting. Though her heart pounded with excitement, she forced herself to speak slowly. “How did you get here?” she asked, when what she wanted to know was
why
he had come.

A crooked smile lit his face. “I commandeered a horse,” he told her. By all rights, he should have released her hand. Common courtesy required only a brief touch. But Dwight seemed to have forgotten that, for he kept a firm grip on her. By all rights, she should have pulled her hand away. But Carolyn did not, for the warmth of Dwight’s hand had started to dispel the cold that she had despaired would ever thaw.

“The horse wasn’t as fast as an automobile.” Dwight gave her another wry smile. “But at least I knew it wouldn’t break down.”

Though his words were commonplace, the way they made her feel was anything but common. For the first time since she had left Goudot, she felt as if she were once again a complete person.

“Why did you come?” The words escaped before she could stop them. She shouldn’t ask. She shouldn’t hope that he had come only to see her. Most likely, he was on his way to somewhere else. Perhaps he was delivering a message from Helen. That was it. Helen had wanted to come but couldn’t because of her pregnancy.

Her legs suddenly weak, Carolyn sank onto a bench, pulling Dwight with her. He waited until she was facing him before spoke, and his eyes were warm with an emotion that Carolyn could not identify. “I missed you,” he said.

The seed of hope that had appeared when Margaret told her she had a visitor sprouted leaves. “Aren’t the other nurses capable?” Carolyn wouldn’t let herself believe that there was anything personal in this visit.

Dwight turned her hand over and began to trace the lines on her palm. It was the lightest of touches, and yet the sensations his fingertips created were anything but casual. Shivers of delight raced from Carolyn’s hand up her arm.

“The others aren’t as good as you.” Dwight raised his eyes and waited until she met his gaze. “That’s not why I came,” he said. “I won’t try to convince you to return to Goudot because I need you as a nurse. The fact is, I miss
you,
Carolyn, not your nursing.”

Blood rushed to Carolyn’s face. He missed her. Dwight missed her. And, oh, how wonderful that felt! Though several men in Canela had vowed eternal love, no one had said words that touched Carolyn’s heart the way Dwight’s simple declaration did. Even when he had called her “darling,” Ed had not …

Ed! Carolyn bit the inside of her cheek. What was she doing, harboring fantasies that could never come true? What kind of woman was she?

“I won’t change my mind,” she said, tugging her hand free from Dwight’s. “I won’t go back, and I won’t marry you.”

If her words and her gesture bothered him, Dwight gave no sign. “Did I ask you to?” He gestured toward the saddlebags that lay on a table next to him. “I brought a Thermos of tea and some of those pastries that you like. I was hoping you’d share them with me.”

It was a simple request. There was no reason she should refuse. After all, refusing would not bring Ed back; it would merely be rude. And if she accepted, Carolyn would have another memory to help her through the lonely future.

“Thank you. I’d like that.”

It was too cold to sit outside, so they spent the afternoon inside the mess tent, drinking tea, eating pastries, talking of everything and nothing. Carolyn recounted her experiences as a casualty clearing nurse; Dwight reported the progress of the patients she had known in Goudot. They spoke of the weather and the war, of food and fears. The one topic they never touched was Dwight’s proposal of marriage.

Carolyn was happy that he did not repeat his proposal. Of course she was, for they both knew what her response must be. And yet as the afternoon waned, she couldn’t help wondering why he said nothing. Could it be that he regretted his impulsive action? Dwight, after all, was not given to impulse. Perhaps he was relieved that she had refused. But if that was true, why had he come, and why had he told her he missed her?

Dwight glanced at his watch and frowned. “I’m not sure how often I can get away,” he said as he rose to his feet and reached for the saddlebags. He looked down at Carolyn, his expression earnest. “Would I be welcome if I came again?”

It would be wrong. He would be wasting his time. Carolyn knew that. But as she opened her mouth to forbid him to return, she heard herself say, “I’d like that.”

And that night, for the first time since she had learned of Ed’s death, Carolyn’s sleep was undisturbed by nightmares.

Chapter Twelve

“H
e’s courting you,” Margaret said as she coiled her hair into a bun.

“That’s ridiculous.” Both the idea of a courtship and the blush that stained Carolyn’s cheeks were ridiculous. Thank goodness the other nurses had left, and only she and Margaret remained in the tent. This was a conversation Carolyn did not want overheard, particularly since she was unable to keep that telltale color from stealing onto her face. Carolyn knew there was speculation about her and Dwight, created by his visits and the letters that arrived almost every day. Her reaction to Margaret’s declaration would only add fuel to the fire.

“Dwight’s a friend. That’s all. He knows I’m lonely; that’s why he comes here.”

Margaret raised an eyebrow as she skewered her bun. “Then why do none of the other nurses have ‘friends’”—she gave the word an ironic twist—“who send them books and candy?”

Carolyn had no answer. The truth was, she had been surprised when the beautiful leather-bound book of poetry had arrived. To her knowledge, there was no place in Goudot that sold English language books. When she had asked Dwight, he had told her that he had asked Helen to buy a copy in England. Her pregnancy now obvious, Helen had been forced to return home. Carolyn had known that. What she hadn’t known was that Dwight corresponded with Helen and appeared to have enlisted her aid.

“And why,” Margaret continued, “does no one else have a suitor who somehow manages to find time to visit, even though he’s obviously overworked and exhausted like the rest of us?”