Hope Rising (20 page)

Thankfully Dennis didn’t question the sudden end to the conversation. Instead the sergeant leaned his head back against the side of the vehicle and shut his eyes. Joel followed suit, but sleep wouldn’t come.

He hadn’t told Evelyn he loved her, at least not out loud. His actions the last couple of weeks might have shown it, but he hadn’t given voice to the sentiment.

It was no mystery why he hadn’t said those words yet. His persistent guilt over Ralph’s death had kept him from admitting how much Evelyn meant to him. If he didn’t say it, then he wouldn’t be hurt if she ever found out the truth and despised him for it. But as Dennis had wisely reminded him, Evelyn needed to know how much he cared—how much he loved her—before she returned to the States.

I’ll tell her the minute I see her again.

He wouldn’t divulge everything. Telling her he loved her would be monumental enough. He didn’t want to ruin it by revealing his secret or, worse, have her refuse to marry him once she heard it.

The familiar discomfort at keeping something from Evelyn threatened to destroy his logic, but he fought it back with memories of her enticing lips, her sweet-smelling hair, her expressive eyes.

In two weeks’ time, they’d be husband and wife. The thought reduced any lingering guilt to a mere prick at the back of Joel’s mind. Easily replaced by happiness so keen he wanted to shout it to the world. Surely the day he returned to St. Vincent’s to claim her as his bride would be soon enough to tell Evelyn that he loved her. As deeply and passionately as he’d ever hoped to love.

E
velyn, come quick,” Alice said, bursting into their shared room. She was smiling, in spite of her flushed face.

Evelyn chuckled at Alice’s exuberance as she finished putting on her shoes and stood. Her stomach twisted with the same cramping sensation she’d experienced the night before. She inadvertently touched the bump hidden beneath her dress.
Was something wrong with the baby?
She quickly pushed the worrisome thought away.

“Is the hospital on fire?” Evelyn teased. She faced the mirror to put on her nurse’s cap.

“No,” Alice managed to get out between breaths. “The supply trucks finally arrived!”

Evelyn spun around. “They have?” She pressed her hands to her mouth. Laughter, laced with pure relief, escaped her fingers. “I can’t believe it.”

“Come on.” Alice waved for her to follow.

They hurried down the stairs and outside. Evelyn filled her lungs with the fresh morning air. The good news brought a smile to her lips, the first real one she’d experienced in several days. She hadn’t realized how much she would miss Joel. Had it only been four days since he’d left? It felt twice that long, but Evelyn clung to the knowledge he’d be back in ten more to marry her.

She and Alice rounded the front corner of the hospital. Two trucks sat in the driveway, their flaps pulled back to reveal stacks of boxes inside. Grateful tears filled her eyes, momentarily blurring the scene before her. Finally the wounded soldiers would have the proper care they needed.

If only the supplies had come a week sooner…

Evelyn amended the thought, too happy to dwell on what might have been. More supplies on hand could have possibly saved the life of the young soldier who’d died, but as Dr. Dupont had said, they had done the best they could with what they had. Thankfully what they had now would include sufficient bandages and medication.

She stood behind Alice in the growing line of nurses and sisters helping to unload the supplies. The smiles and easy laughter among the staff reminded Evelyn of Christmastime—but this year it had come in August. She couldn’t think of better gifts, unless someone had slipped in real chocolate or American newspapers with the supplies.

Accepting the box she was handed, she carried it toward the hospital, passing Sister Marcelle on the way in.

“See how the Lord has rewarded your tenaciousness?” Sister Marcelle gestured to the box in Evelyn’s arms.

Evelyn blushed. “It wasn’t me.”

“Not you alone.” Sister Marcelle gave her a conspiratorial smile. “But your ingenuity with that old material certainly helped us get by for a few more weeks until He saw fit to bless us. He truly does come through in our extremities, does He not? Though seldom on our timetable.”

Evelyn brushed aside the sister’s words with a nod and went to set her box in the growing pile inside the open space of the hospital entryway. Her gaze sought out Sister Marcelle, cheerfully overseeing the unloading, as she returned for another box. The woman certainly had a lot of faith, but more than that, Sister Marcelle had genuine hope that God would provide.

As a child, Evelyn had felt that sort of optimism in the Lord. Until her father died. Without her parents, she’d given up trying to believe God would watch over her. Instead she’d come to rely on herself. Her decision to be with Ralph had only further alienated her from God.

Was it too late to change her heart? Could God truly have been working through her, as Sister Marcelle continued to profess, even as imperfect and doubting as Evelyn was? Was He watching out for her by bringing Joel into her life at the moment she needed him most? The possibility added to the optimistic feeling blooming in her heart.

She collected another box to carry in. This time, though, the short walk from the supply truck to the hospital was accompanied by the sudden renewal of the cramping in her abdomen. Evelyn forced herself to breathe through the mild pain. She probably shouldn’t be hefting boxes, but she didn’t want to draw attention to herself by not helping either. If she carried only those boxes that weighed very little, though, she could surely keep the cramps from worsening.

After discarding her second box, she moved back outside to the truck and discreetly asked one of the drivers which boxes contained only bandages. He pointed to several sitting beside the truck. Evelyn piled two of the featherlight boxes on top of each other and carried them inside. She paused beside the stairs to catch her breath when the pain came again. This time she selected only one box when she returned to the truck. The less she did, the more likely she could get the ache to go away.

As she’d hoped, her slowness went unnoticed and allowed her to carry fewer boxes than the others. Once both trucks had been emptied, Sister Marcelle made quick work of dividing the supplies among the wards. Evelyn and Alice were assigned to take new supplies to the recovery ward, then another set to one of the surgery wards.

Evelyn selected the lightest boxes again and stacked three of them on top of each other. The sooner she finished carrying things, the sooner she’d feel better.

A blur of movement and a thatch of dark hair alerted her to Louis’s presence even before he reached her side. “Good morning, Louis. Look what we got today…” Evelyn let her words trail off at the distraught look on the boy’s face.

“Nurse Gray, you have to come. Please.” Louis loosened one of her hands from around the boxes and tugged on it. “
Ma
mère
is sick. Too sick to get out of bed.”

“Oh no.” She glanced at the grandfather clock in the entry and stifled a groan. She had only fifteen minutes before she had to assist Dr. Dupont in surgery. While standing seemed a better activity than lugging boxes in her present condition, she wished she could rest beforehand.

“I wish I could come, Louis. But I can’t.” She hated the crestfallen expression that leaked into his dark eyes. “I’m due to be in the surgery ward after we unload these boxes. I can try and come when I’m finished. All right?”

Louis gave a courageous nod, though his gaze shifted to the floor. Going down on one knee, Evelyn bit back a gasp at the stab of agony below her belly. Why wasn’t the pain going away? She felt someone watching her and glanced up to see Alice waiting for her.

Planting a false smile on her face, for Louis and Alice, Evelyn set down the boxes and brushed a lock of black hair off the boy’s forehead. “Tell me quickly about her symptoms.”

Louis ran a hand beneath his nose. “She is hot but says she is cold, even with a blanket. She does not want to eat or drink.” He lifted his chin to look Evelyn in the eye. “I am scared, Nurse Gray.”

I am, too.
The cramps were increasing in magnitude with every minute and becoming harder to ignore. She needed to lie down, but what excuse could she give to be free of her duties? She couldn’t simply disappear without an explanation.

She swallowed back her own fear and pulled Louis into an embrace. “You are very brave, Louis. You must keep being brave.” She released him and gripped his shoulders. “Do you know how to make tea?”

He nodded.

“Good. Make some tea for your mother and spoon as much of it into her as she’ll let you. You can also wet a cloth and place it on her forehead. I will try to come as soon as I can.”

“Okay.” He jutted his small chin, then turned and sprinted out the front doors. Evelyn lifted her boxes and followed Alice through the hospital in the direction of the recovery ward.

“What’s wrong with his mother?” her roommate asked.

“It sounds like influenza. I’ll check on her as soon as I’m done with—” She sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth.

“Is something wrong, Evelyn?”

Evelyn shook her head.
It’s going to go away—I just need to lie down.

Her eyes sought out the bed in the corner as they entered the recovery ward, even though Evelyn knew the patient lying there wasn’t Joel. How was he getting along at the convalescent home? Did he think of her as much as she thought of him?

After helping Alice unload the boxes in the supply closet, Evelyn trailed her upstairs to gather the supplies for the surgery ward. By the time they descended the stairs to the basement, sweat beaded on Evelyn’s forehead. She felt hot and clammy.

“I’m going to slip into the bathroom,” she said once they had the boxes inside the supply closet. “I’ll be right back.”

Alice gave an unconcerned nod and opened the first box. Evelyn forced her feet to move at a normal pace to the bathroom, despite a sudden buzzing in her head. Once inside she sank to the floor, her knees drawn up to her chest to ease the pain.

She stared at the wooden planks of the floor as she tried to breathe normally. One shoe had come unlaced amid the flurry of activity. She bent forward to tie the lace, but she froze at the sight of a bright crimson spot between her shoes.

The sisters were meticulous when it came to a clean hospital. No one would have missed mopping up blood like this. Besides, it was too bright to be old.

Evelyn rose slowly to her feet. Another spot appeared, then another. Terror as chilling as winter crashed over her. Her knees buckled with the force of it and she crumpled back to the floor. A tortured cry hurtled from her lips to the opposite wall at the thought of losing her baby. The bathroom began to tip and spin around her. She squeezed her eyes shut against the dizzying movement.

Please, make it stop. Please let the baby be fine.

“Evelyn?” Alice tapped on the door. “Are you all right? I thought I heard you say something.”

Somehow she hauled herself to her feet, though she gripped the door handle to keep from losing her balance again, and opened the door. She would have to leave the blood spots and hope someone else assumed they’d simply been overlooked when the ward had been scrubbed down.

“Can you help me back to the nurses’ building?” she pled through clenched teeth. “I…don’t think I can make it there on my own and I need to lie down.”

Alice’s eyes widened with surprise, but her reaction was quickly replaced by her nurse’s demeanor. “Of course. Let’s get you to bed. You’re looking really pale.”

Evelyn draped an arm around Alice’s shoulders, grateful no one else was in the ward yet. She could slip away unnoticed for now. Her relief ended as quickly as it had come in the wake of the pain and fear clawing at her insides.

Managing the stairs and the long walk across the lawn depleted what little energy she had left, but she was determined to ride out her discomfort in the privacy of the nurses’ building. Their ascent up the flight of stairs to the second floor took twice as long as normal. Every few steps, she made Alice pause in their progress. Her roommate patiently did so, thankfully keeping whatever questions she had to herself.

Evelyn directed Alice to help her into the bathroom. Once on the floor, she laid her head against the planks, grateful to no longer be moving.

“There’s one more thing,” she murmured. Alice knelt down beside her. “I need you to take my place in the surgery ward today. Can you get someone to cover for you in the recovery ward?”

“Yes. Is there something I should tell the doctor?”

“Tell him…”

The awful truth pushed forward in her mind, but she fought it back. She wouldn’t even think it. If she did, her heart would irrevocably break.

“Just tell him I’m ill.” It could be true. There was still a chance the baby would be fine.

Alice placed a hand on Evelyn’s forehead. “You’re not feverish, but you feel sweaty. What are your other symptoms?”

Agony. Terror. Heartbreak at the thought of losing my baby.

“Some cramping.” Her voice did nothing to betray the turmoil roiling through her mind and body. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll get a cloth for your head.” Alice rose to her feet, but she stopped at the door. “Why don’t I bring some towels, too? I think you’ve started your regular bleeding. There’s a trail from here to the stairs and a mark on the back of your dress.”

So much blood. Too much. Tears leaked from Evelyn’s eyes and she squeezed them shut. If only Joel were here, to wrap her in his strong arms, to steal away her dread and pain with his kisses.

“What’s wrong?” The creak of the floorboards and a hand on her shoulder told her Alice had returned to her side. The compassion in her friend’s tone was Evelyn’s undoing.

“I’m miscarrying,” she whispered before her voice broke on a sob.

“Y-You’re pregnant?”

“Yes.” She opened her eyes to Alice’s astonished expression.

“Who’s the father?” Alice asked in a gentle tone as she removed Evelyn’s crushed cap and set it aside.

“His name was Ralph Kelley. He was killed in the same battle that brought Corporal Campbell here.” Speaking their names aloud filled Evelyn with renewed anguish. “They were best friends, you see.”

“Oh, Evelyn.” Alice reached for her hand. “I don’t even know what to say. I’m so sorry.”

Evelyn gritted her teeth—the pain was beginning to move with greater force into her lower back. “Don’t worry about me,” she said in a tight whisper. “Thank you for helping with the surgery.”

Alice jumped to her feet. “I’m coming back to check on you the minute I can get away. All right? Let me get those towels before I go.”

A glimmer of comfort, and relief at telling someone else her secret, shone through Evelyn’s fears for a brief moment. She wasn’t alone in all of this—Alice would help her.

Alice left the bathroom and reappeared a few minutes later with three or four towels in her arms. She positioned all but one underneath Evelyn. “Here, you can bite on this.” She pressed the last towel into Evelyn’s hand.

“What for?”

“My mother had two miscarriages and four children. She said biting the towel helped her deal with the pain. How far along are you?”

Evelyn tried calculating the weeks in her head, but her mind felt fuzzy. “Thirteen, maybe fourteen weeks.”

“That’s going to mean more blood.”

“I know.” The woozy feeling from earlier bathed her again, reminding her of the night she’d sliced her hand and Joel had bandaged it. What would he think if he knew she was experiencing something infinitely worse than a small cut?