Takin' The Reins (17 page)

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Authors: Stacey Coverstone

BOOK: Takin' The Reins
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Jordan shut the scrapbook and opened the small photo album. At the front were several black and white photos of two small girls, presumably Lydia and Laura as children. They looked so similar they could have been twins. In some pictures the girls were posed with a man and a stern looking woman, most likely their parents. The photos progressed, showing them as young girls to teenagers, both individually and together. Jordan slid some of the photos out of their plastic sleeves and turned them over. There were no notations, names or dates written on any of them. One photo, in particular, caught her eye. The two girls looked dressed for a dance. One’s face was jubilant, the other sour. She couldn’t guess which sister was which in that one. The next was a picture of one of the sisters with her date for the dance. Even though she studied the picture carefully, she wasn’t sure of their identities. The young man and woman were smiling, and the girl wore an evening gown. She sported a corsage around her wrist. Her wavy, shoulder length hair was parted dramatically on one side. The dapper young man in suit and tie had his arm around the girl’s waist.

Jordan calculated the time period, and figured it had to have been in the early 1940’s, around the time of the Second World War. She closed the photo album and gently untied the delicate ribbon holding the packet of letters together. The shock of the unexpected discovery was ebbing, but that didn’t stop every nerve from popping and tingling with excitement as she touched the brittle paper of the letter on top. It was like being on a treasure hunt. Using care, she unfolded the letter, leaned against her pillow, and began to read.

 

May 4, 1942

Dear L,

I sit at the walnut desk I’ve had since I was a boy and write this while gazing out into the starry sky. I have just said goodbye to you and cannot wipe the smile off my mug. Tonight was all I dreamed of and more. This is going to sound corny, but I’ve decided to tell you anyway. When I’m with you, the poet in me comes out. So here goes. This one’s for you.

Your skin is like a porcelain doll,

Your lips as ripe as cherry.

Your hair, gossamer silk in my hand,

Your touch, sweet as a fairy.

You dance like a feather in the wind,

Your smile, a ray of light.

You’ve taken my breath, you’ve stolen my heart,

My love wings its way to you in flight.

N

 

With a smile, Jordan refolded the letter and started a separate pile for those read. Whoever N was, he certainly was lovesick. His poem was totally corny, as he’d warned, but the object of his heartfelt words, whom she assumed was the young Lydia, must have been impressed nevertheless. She flipped open the photo album again and returned her gaze to the pictures of the girls dressed for the dance. She deduced that N must have been the young fellow with his arm around the girl who had to have been Lydia. She opened the next letter.

 

May 18, 1942

Dear L,

I know the news was shocking. I cannot begin to tell you how dreadful it was to tell you. I put it off as long as I could because I hate to see you cry. Imagine for a moment how I felt when I received the notice. Proud and excited, but upset that I’ll be leaving you. I knew it would be coming, I just didn’t know it would be this soon. All the young men are receiving notices. I didn’t want to upset you further, but Tyler and Brian have their orders as well. Remember always, you are my girl, and it doesn’t matter how far away I am, I will be with you in soul and spirit. Dry your tears and be brave. Be proud of me and be proud of our great country. We must all do our part to support this war. I’ll be home in the blink of an eye and then you’ll really be stuck with me forever.

Yours, N

 

Jordan realized N had been drafted into the military, but he hadn’t mentioned which branch. She placed the letter on the second stack and opened the next letter, her heart beating with anticipation.

 

May 20, 1942

Dearest L,

This is the first opportunity I’ve had to write you since heading off to war. Right now, I am on the plane flying somewhere over the Pacific Ocean. Everything is happening so quickly. Yesterday I was a gangly kid in school, and today I’m a man preparing to defend our country in a great battle against the enemy of the east. We must be courageous, you and I. Although I will be far away, there is no distance between your heart and mine. Remember that. I will write you as often as I can. Even when you don’t hear from me, know that I am thinking of you every moment of every day. Let there be no doubt in your mind. I am proud to serve our great country. This is a thrilling time for the good ol’ US of A! Pray for me and remain strong. When I return home, I promise we will be together.

Love, N

 

Jordan read the next several letters with rapt attention. She was so engrossed in the dramatic story, it was hard to believe this was her family history she was reading about. She felt very thankful to her aunt for having left the letters for her to find. Now, if she could only figure out the identity of N!

 

May 26, 1942

Dear L,

You know me better than anyone, except my mother and father of course. I’m not generally a complainer, but it is like a lunatic asylum here. The military and the war are nothing like I expected. The posters back home show young men in pressed uniforms, sleeping in clean barracks. Let me tell you, it’s not like that at all. We’re packed in like sardines, and Lord, it’s so hot. I’ve not stopped sweating since I stepped off the plane, and supplies and fresh water are scarce. The mosquitoes are terrible. They’re the size of baseballs and I’m bit to death. The one silver lining beneath this dismal cloud is that there are men representing every state here, and most are real good guys. A group of us play poker at night. You won’t believe this, but my bunkmate is from Pueblo, Colorado! We both miss the cool mountains of home. I keep thinking about that swimming hole where we shared our first kiss. Do you remember that day? I do. You were so precious acting like you’d never been kissed before when I knew for a fact you’d been kissed by Johnny Edwards during a game of spin the bottle when we were kids. I bet you didn’t think I remembered that, did you? Ha. Ha. I spend many long hours in my bunk recalling stories and moments from our past. Lord, I can’t wait to take you back to that swimming hole and make a new memory! An announcement was just made and orders have been given. It is lights out, so I must close. I miss you.

Love, N

 

June 3, 1942

My Darling L,

This letter must be brief. Today we were told we will be attacking the Japanese tomorrow in the early hours of the morning. We will strike both by air and by land. I am on an island called Midway. Maybe you can look it up on the map. I have never lied to you and I won’t start now. I am afraid. We’re all afraid. Keep me in your prayers. Though we are all soldiers eager to defend our wonderful country, we are really just kids who miss home and our sweethearts. We will, however, fight like men in order to win this war. If anything should happen to me, please know that I love you.

Yours always, N

 

Jordan couldn’t read fast enough as she opened the next letter.

 

June 12, 1942

My Dearest Lydia,

You must know by now that I’ve been injured and will be coming home soon. I do not know when, because I must go through many weeks of rehabilitation, but it is a fact that my military career is over almost as fast as it began. I cannot, and will not, tell you about the horrors we experienced at Midway. Suffice it to say, I know now why they say war is hell. I am dictating this letter to a very kind nurse because I’m still unable to hold a pen. The army nurses here are wonderful. I don’t know what we’d do without them. They make such a contribution to the war effort. Doc says therapy will help strengthen my hand. Several of us in my unit were hit with shrapnel during the invasion. I was knocked unconscious and was very surprised when I awoke and realized I was alive. I had dreamed I was entering the Pearly Gates. I am very sorry to say that my bunkmate from Pueblo did not survive. Knowing that you will be waiting for me is what gets me through the long, lonely nights as I wait patiently for a release date. Do not be afraid. I’ve been through what no human being should ever go through, but I’m not a broken man. Just a little cracked up. Ha. Ha. That’s a joke. Seriously though, it’s nothing your touch can’t heal. Yours always, Nate

 

Nate! At least Jordan now knew that the initial N stood for Nate and L was definitely Lydia. But who was Nate? If only Lydia had kept the envelopes with the letters. The return addresses would have supplied her with Nate’s last name and all the information she needed to crack this mystery. She read on.

 

June 29, 1942

Lydia,

I have just received your letter and I must be honest with you. I am at a loss for words. I have always known you to be an impulsive and independent girl. That is one of the reasons I love you, but I never imagined you were so foolish! I simply do not understand why you have joined the Army Corp of Nurses. You tell me it’s to help the war effort, and also because you can no longer sit at home doing nothing when all your friends are off fighting. You must realize how worried this makes me. Lydia, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. You tell me you’re going to Guam. I’ve heard of it. It’s a small island full of jungles and malaria out in the middle of the ocean. I cannot believe you may be there for a year. I, the man you claim to love, am shocked to the core by your decision. I find it incomprehensible that you can be so selfish as to willingly risk your life this way. But it’s done now, isn’t it? I must close or I might write something I will really regret. By the time you receive this letter, I will be home sleeping in my childhood bed. Isn’t that the damndest coincidence? I’m sorry for swearing, but I’m at my wit’s end and shaking with disbelief and fury over your choice to leave family and friends, and me. I will write to you at the address you have provided.

Nate

 

Lydia became a nurse! That would explain her caring nature toward animals. Jordan wondered if any of her friends in Tulie knew she’d been a World War II nurse. In Jordan’s talks with Wyatt, he’d not mentioned anything that would suggest Lydia had shared that part of her life with him. Jordan questioned whether her own mother had ever been told details of her aunt’s life. Again, her thoughts moved to her grandma and the reasons for dismissing Lydia from her life. With eagerness, she read the next three letters to see what more she could learn.

 

July 9, 1942

Dear Lydia,

I am home. I have not heard from you, but I’m hoping our letters have crossed in the mail. I received a warm welcome upon my arrival in Denver, but I cannot help but feel humiliated and like a yellow coward. I only fought in one battle and was injured almost as soon as we stormed the beach. I am no hero. Far from it, but everyone keeps calling me one. They’re even going to name a street after me, for God’s sake. Your folks invited me for dinner tonight. They are very worried about you, as I am. No one understands why you had to up and leave the comfort of your home and family. You should have stayed right here in Colorado and served the war effort, just as your sister is. Laura is raising money for war bonds. She is contributing to the morale of the war effort through personal sacrifice. I, better than anyone, understand the sacrifice you are making, but I also know you didn’t have to go halfway around the world to do it. I apologize, sweetheart. I’m lashing out because I’m scared to death for you, and I miss you with all my heart. I will write again soon.

Love, Nate

 

July 15, 1942

Dear Lydia,

Thank God our letters did cross in the mail. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten all about me. I understand you may not be able to write for some time, as your situation in Guam has become dire. I sincerely hope you are able to receive this letter. We all pray for your safety and well being every day. I take it you did not write your parents about the nurses who have been captured and transported to Japan. It’s just as well. Hard as your mother is at times, I fear it would be the undoing of her if anything were to happen to you. Here on the home front, Laura is organizing campaigns to practice frugality. Do you have any idea what that means? I didn’t. Ha. Ha. She had to explain it to me. What she does is speak to other women about carrying groceries instead of using the car in order to preserve tire rubber. She encourages the planting of victory gardens, and she assists in sewing and repairing people’s clothes. The President has encouraged everyone to support the war effort by not buying new clothes or aluminum. I am very impressed with the way in which Laura is handling herself through this tenuous time. You would be proud of her. I think of you fondly and look forward to receiving a letter from you at your earliest. Love, Nate

 

August 12, 1942

Dear Lydia,

I was glad to receive your last letter, short as it was. At least I know you are alive and well, considering the circumstances you are in. Yes, I remember well the heat and the mosquitoes in the Pacific, although it seems like a lifetime ago that I was there. My hand is fully recovered in case you’ve been wondering. It did not surprise me to learn that you have chosen to remain on Guam for at least eight more months. I know you are dedicated to your service as a nurse, and I’m sure you’re a fine one. I do, however, wish you were as loyal to me and to the life I thought we’d planned together. It seems that is neither here nor there, as your mind is made up. I’ve always said you’re as stubborn as a mule. On a lighter note, on her free days, your sister and I have been taking walks or going for ice cream down at the Creamery. It does us both good to talk about you and share stories. I still have nightmares occasionally, and it’s been a tremendous help to talk to her. Be safe.

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