Tracie Peterson (37 page)

She shivered in the salty harbor breeze. How she wished she could do more to cheer them on, to brighten their spirits. It was so hard to watch them go. She glanced sidelong and saw that Jeanine was crying as she waved. Clara had been fighting back her own tears and seeing Jeanine’s caused her to forget her resolve.

Please, God, watch over them. Protect them from the enemy
.

When the last soldier was on board the ship, Clara and Jeanine gave one final wave and hurried to pack up the truck, or lorry, as the English called it. The truck, a large, boxy contraption with side panels that lifted up in order to provide access to the coffee and doughnuts, wasn’t half the battle that the narrow English streets were. Clara had mastered the bulky machine and had even managed to become fairly familiar with driving on the wrong side of the road, but poor conditions and limited maneuvering space were enough to give her a headache.

“We’re going to have to hit it double-time if we’re to get another load of food and get to our next assignment,” Jeanine called.

“I know. I know. You just make sure you get everything secured back there. I’ll get the panels down and we’ll be off,” Clara replied.

It wasn’t long before they were on their way and heading at a maddening pace across the English countryside. They had far more liberty and freedom of travel than most of the English, and still Clara couldn’t seem to work it to her advantage. There had to be someone somewhere in England who’d be willing to trade for a wedding dress. Clara had money and even knew that she could get her hands on C-rations if need be. Of course, the latter was all on the sly, but she’d worked it out nevertheless. With the rationing so severe and the English doing without so much, surely someone would see her offer as a compatible solution to their own needs.

Clara could hardly believe her good fortune when she was given the next assignment. They were to take coffee and doughnuts to two area hospitals. One would be Michael’s hospital, and Clara could hardly contain her joy. They were slowed only by the long line of army transports and equipment that seemed to take up every inch of roadway. Men seemed to be everywhere, and Clara and Jeanine called out and waved as they were allowed to inch their way through the mess.

“Hi, boys! Where are you from?” Clara called.

“Colorado!”

“Texas!”

“California!”

The chorus went on and on. Jeanine called out in greeting from her side of the truck, and both girls listened as various compliments
were thrown their way.

“Are your legs as pretty as your face?” one soldier called up.

Clara laughed. “I wouldn’t know. They’ve been hidden in a uniform for so long, I forgot I even brought them with me.”

This brought a roar of laughter from the men, along with a couple of offers to help scout things out. Clara took their teasing good-naturedly and finally saw an opening in the road ahead.

“See you boys later. Maybe we’ll be down your way to bring coffee and doughnuts.”

There were cheers and calls of good-bye and once again Clara couldn’t help but feel momentarily overwhelmed. The job was getting harder every day.

“Do you suppose Joe will have time to say hi?” Jeanine questioned as she settled back in her seat.

“I should hope so,” Clara answered. “I’m sure if he and Michael know we’re there, they’ll find a way to join us. Besides, we are going to the hospital. Rumor has it there are a lot of new wounded. Where else would they be?”

“Well, with Joe being a dentist and all, he might not be anywhere around.”

“He gets his share of work too. Nevertheless, if there are a lot of new wounded, we’ll have our work cut out for us.”

“Lots of talk and no dancing,” Jeanine suggested.

Clara nodded and tried to keep focused on the task at hand. Finally the base came into sight and Clara felt her heart beat a little faster. What a joy it was to think of Michael. Just knowing he was here was enough to bring a peace to her soul.
Thank you, God, for putting us together
. She knew it was no twist of fate that had seen them so closely connected.

Clara pulled up to the building that housed the hospital patients and convalescence center. “Let’s get to work.”

They had scarcely opened the back in order to gather their supplies, when Joe surprised them both.

“Ladies, it’s good to see you again.”

Jeanine smiled coyly from beneath her billed uniform cap. “Hi, Joe.”

Clara gave a little wave. “Where’s Michael? I figured he’d at least see the truck and beat a path over to see if it was me.”

Joe frowned. “Well, I’ve got some news you aren’t exactly going to like hearing.”

Clara felt her heart drop to her knees. Surely they hadn’t shipped Michael out in the night. “What’s happened?” she asked, barely able to breathe.

“They’ve moved the hospital. I can’t really give you any information.” He looked around to see if anyone might overhear his conversation. “If you look beyond this building you’ll see we took some hits the other night. HQ thought it best to get the wounded out of harm’s way—at least as much as possible.”

“But we were sent up here to deliver coffee and doughnuts,” Clara said, her disappointment evident.

“I know,” Joe said, nodding. “We’re a sort of clearinghouse, if you will. They’re receiving the wounded here and shipping them out to other hospitals from this point. I’m leaving tomorrow to join Michael, but he was forced to leave in the night with the most critically wounded.” Joe moved closer. “He wanted me to get a message to you.”

“Oh?”

Joe smiled. “The paper work came through for you two to get married. He wanted you to know.”

Clara frowned. “Fine lot of good that does me now.”

“Now, don’t be taking that attitude,” Jeanine said, coming alongside her friend. “We’ll just get you two together at the new hospital, or somewhere in between.”

“That’s right,” Joe concurred. “Mike and I will get leave and come south.” He winked, and Clara instantly understood he was trying to give her an idea of Michael’s new location. “The general knows how hard Michael’s worked to get this marriage arranged. He’s even helped in the matter. All leave has been temporarily cancelled, but you know us doctors, we can get away with just about anything—especially Michael. I mean, what with him having a brigadier and a major general in his hip pocket, he’s bound to work out the details.”

Clara nodded. “It’s just hard to have things change all the time.” She looked away and noted the damaged building not far from the hospital. The war made life so precariously unsettled.

“Someone’s bound to give you directions to the new hospital. After all, you’ll no doubt be called upon to bring us some Red Cross
cheer. Especially with Christmas only days away.”

Clara tried to be encouraged by the idea, but she felt overwhelmed by her worry. For the next few hours she tried to lose herself in her work, but every now and then, something reminded her of the distance now placed between herself and the man she loved.

“You’re Captain Shepherd’s fiancée, aren’t you?” a uniformed nurse questioned as Clara came back to the truck for supplies.

“Yes,” she said, looking up. The light was fading in the skies overhead, but Clara recognized something familiar about the woman.

“Captain Shepherd mentioned you were looking for parachute silk or a wedding dress. I heard rumors of a local woman who had a gown among other things for sale. She wanted food supplies.”

A sudden flood of energy coursed through Clara’s weary body. “Where can I find her?”

The nurse gave Clara directions as best she could. “I wish I could be more sure of the house. It might all be for nothing,” the woman reminded Clara. “It was just a rumor.”

Clara grabbed up the things she’d come for and made a mad dash into the hospital. “Jeanine,” she said, panting, “I’ve just heard about a wedding dress. The woman lives just off the base in a little village. Can you handle the rest of this?”

Jeanine nodded. “Go! Just go!”

Clara grinned. “I thought you’d see it my way.”

Clara knew it was hardly fair to leave Jeanine to take care of matters on her own, but it wasn’t like they didn’t have to do this on occasion anyway. Whenever they were short on help and long on need, the girls had managed to serve solo. Clara had once played hostess to twenty-five hundred sailors without being any worse for the wear. It was all a matter of attitude, her superior, Anna Nelson, would have said.

Clara went on a dead run through the base. She couldn’t take the truck, as Jeanine would need it in order to reload the empty coffee urns and trays. She glanced toward the west and figured she had an hour at best before darkness would make it difficult to find her way back.

God
, she prayed,
please help me to find this woman and help me to have whatever it is she needs in order to make this trade
.

Clara darted mindlessly across the road and nearly jumped out
of her skin when she heard a blaring horn and looked up to see an army transport bearing down upon her. She narrowly escaped injury by pouring on steam that she really didn’t have to spare. Pausing on the side of the road, Clara gasped for breath and waited for her heart to settle to a less-anxious beat before pressing on.
No sense in seeing myself killed
, she chided.
I’m going to have to take it easy and be more watchful
.

Clara managed to settle her nerves and just as she had regained her wind a jeep pulled alongside, and a smiling sergeant offered her a lift. “Where ya headed, doll?”

“Just a little ways into town,” Clara replied. She gave the man her directions and thanked him over and over for helping her out.

“Where are you from, Sarge?”

“Baton Rouge, Louisiana,” the man replied. “Ever been there?”

“No,” Clara admitted. “I’m from Washington state. I’ve never been that far south.”

“Great place,” the man told her. He beamed her a smile. “I got me a gal there. She’s as pretty as a picture and twice as sweet.”

“Do you have her picture?” Clara asked, turning on her Red Cross charm.

“Sure do.” The sergeant reached inside his coat and pulled out a well-worn photograph.

Clara smiled. “She is pretty. What’s her name?”

“Gert. It’s short for Gertrude, which she hates.” The man tucked the picture back inside his coat and maneuvered the jeep around a huge mud hole in the road.

Clara rubbed her cold fingers together and realized she’d left her gloves in the Clubmobile. It was too late to worry about it now, but with the weather growing ever colder, Clara knew she’d have to be more careful in the future.

“Never gets this cold in the south,” the sergeant told her. His voice held a longing for his home.

Clara sympathized. “You must miss it a lot.”

“I do,” the man replied. “I had me a nice little mechanic shop. I was just startin’ to make me a real living and lo and behold, I get drafted. So here I am and there they are,” he said thoughtfully.

“I know what you mean, but the war can’t last much longer,” Clara tried to encourage.

“I don’t know that I’d say that,” the sergeant said with a shake of his head. “Seems every time somebody says that, it adds on three months automatically.”

“Well, if that’s the case, I won’t say it again,” Clara promised. “But we have to have hope.”

The man nodded. “Yeah, a man ain’t much good without hope.”

He slowed the jeep and came to a stop not ten yards from the address the nurse had given Clara. “If you’re going to be heading back to the base, I’ll be going back that way in about an hour,” the sergeant told her.

“That would be great,” Clara replied. “I’ll wait right here. Don’t forget me,” she said, grinning.

The man nodded. “You’re the best company I’ve had in months. I wouldn’t dream of forgetting you.”

Clara smiled and gave him a wave as he shifted the jeep into gear. She looked at the row of houses and bolstered her courage.
Please let this work. Please let this work
.

She found the address and knocked on the narrow wooden door. The house was little more than a cottage and not a well-maintained one at that.

A very pregnant woman opened the door. She had a baby on her hip and two toddlers hanging on to her skirt.

“Evenin’, miss. What can I be doin’ for ya?” she questioned. The baby began to cry and the woman, a look of sheer exhaustion on her face, began to jostle him around in hopes of quieting him.

Clara felt bad for her interruption. “I was told . . . that is, someone mentioned . . . that you might have a wedding gown for sale. I’ve been looking for a gown or at least material to make a gown and hoped you might be able to help me.”

The girl looked at Clara in disbelief for a moment. At least, that was what her expression seemed to suggest to Clara. Even the baby went quiet.

“I ’ave no dress, love. Me mum married me off in blue wool when she ‘eard I was expectin’ little Joe here.” She glanced down at the toddler to her right.

“Oh, I’m sorry for having bothered you,” Clara said, her disappointment evident in her tone.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. Ya might try Flaghtery’s, next block
down. He carries second-time goods. Ya might find yarself a dress there, but I wouldn’t get me ’opes up. Such things aren’t too important these days.”

Clara nodded and, after apologizing once again, walked away from the house consumed with guilt.
Such things shouldn’t be important to me
, she thought.
What am I doing here? Why has this dress become such an obsession to me?
Clara tried to ignore the feeling of guilt.
It’s not like I’m taking anything away from anyone. I’m serving my time and doing more than my duty and I just want to get married in a white wedding dress. Is that a crime? Does that make me the world’s most selfish woman? I want to keep my promise to Mama and marry in such a way that I don’t regret it down the road
. But even while these thoughts coursed through her head, Clara could still see the hollow-eyed stares of the children who clung so possessively to their mother. What horrors had they already lived through? Did they fret and worry at night as Clara did, wondering when the next bomb might come their way?