Burning, searing pain shot up Cora’s leg. Van’s face swam in front of her eyes as she fought for consciousness. Not a life-threatening injury, but one unlike anything she’d ever experienced. She gritted her teeth against the desire to cry out. Men with more serious wounds should be allowed to wail and groan, but not her. She would make Van proud of her bravery. Traitorous, hot tears poured from her eyes.
“Medic! Over here.” On his knees, Van gripped her hand and brushed her hair away from her face, his hands warm and soft against her skin. Should she allow the darkness to take her? If she was unconscious, she wouldn’t feel the agony.
“Stay with me, Cora. You’re going to be fine.” He leaned close to her ear. “My strong, spunky girl. Bullets can’t stop you.”
She tried to laugh, but the effort sounded more like a strangled gurgle. “I’m not strong. I’m afraid.” She spoke through stiff lips. “This is God’s way of punishing me for breaking the rules. I deserve this.”
“No, this isn’t God. He’s watching over you and will see you through. This is a German soldier following orders.” His shoulders slumped. “Your injury is my fault. I stood in the middle of a war zone as if we were in the park.”
“Enough talking. Let’s get her behind that jeep.” The medic wrapped his arm around her, and Van supported her on the other side. They carried her between them, and then laid her on the ground, protected from the fighting. The corpsman dropped beside Cora and opened his kit. He pulled out scissors, sulfa, and bandages. “I’ll try to be gentle, but brace yourself.”
Eyes closed, she nodded.
The sound of ripping as he cut away her pant leg. Fingers pressing, probing the injured area. She grunted and fisted her hands against the knives of pain.
“Excellent. There is an exit wound, which means the bullet went all the way through. No one will have to dig for it.” He cleaned her leg, then shook sulfa over the damaged leg and bound the wound. “You may be a while getting onto a transport, but you should be fine.” The medic patted her shoulder. “Some people will do anything to get out of a little work.” Humor laced his voice.
“Yeah, that’s what this is.” She opened her eyes and grimaced, reaching for his hand. “It was a pleasure to work with you. Thanks for letting me tag along.”
“Anytime, Miss Strealer. One of my best partners.” He climbed to his feet. “Look after our girl.”
“Of course.”
Cora blew out a deep breath. “Well, this wasn’t how I planned to cover the invasion.”
“You can call the column View from the Stretcher.”
“How about Strealer on a Stretcher.”
“I like my title better.”
Pushing herself up with her elbows, she shook her head. “We can argue about the title all we want, but we can’t assume I’ll have a column to go back to. A couple of hours ago, I ran into a major who knew me from London. He said, in no uncertain terms, that he’d ensure my credentials were revoked for being in a combat zone and impersonating a Red Cross worker. I guess I deserve that consequence.”
He shifted so that he sat next to her then draped his arm around her back, bracing her against himself. “I’m sorry if you lose your accreditation. Women not being allowed to cover all aspects of the war isn’t fair. You’re just as much of a journalist as any guy out there.”
“That opinion is downright progressive, Mr. Toppel.” She stared at him. He had changed.
“Thank you, Miss Strealer.” He cleared his throat. “Kidding aside, I have changed. While terrified you might be killed, I realized that no matter what I did…or do…I can’t ever keep you safe. Only God can take care of you…protect you.” He raked his fingers through his hair and blew out a loud breath. “You have to follow His leading, and if that means putting yourself in danger, I have to trust you to Him and His perfect will.”
Her leg throbbed, but the shards of shooting pain had dissipated. Perhaps she’d make it out of Normandy alive after all. Her face heated, and she ducked her head. “Which I haven’t been doing. I’m here because I wanted to prove something to myself and the rest of the world, not because I felt God leading me. I broke rules to get here. That’s not the kind of behavior He expects from His children. I’m not a shining example of being a believer for that major or anyone.”
He rubbed lazy circles on her back. “We all mess up, and I, of all people, understand what you did. I’ve been pushing and shoving my way up the ranks, too.”
Tingles raced up and down her spine at the warmth of his hand through her jacket. Was he comforting her as a friend and colleague, or did he feel the electricity between them? Had she ruined the opportunity for more than a friendship? A sigh escaped, and she pressed her lips together.
“Are you in pain? You should be resting, and I’m yammering on and on as if we’re at a picnic.”
“The leg is sore and aches a bit, but isn’t unbearable.” Her chin trembled. “My emotions seem to be running amok. Perhaps the military is right in their rules for women.”
“You’ve been shot. I’d say you have a right to your emotions. And as for the military and its rules, well…that remains to be seen.” He stroked her jaw then cupped her cheek. “Listen, I need to tell you something. Please promise you’ll hear me out without interrupting.”
Heart pounding, she leaned into his hand. “Okay.”
“Somehow I pictured this exchange a little differently.” A wry smile curved his lips. “I love you, Cora.”
She gasped, and he pressed his index finger against her mouth.
“Somewhere in the midst of this chaos, I fell in love with you. I’ve never felt like this about anyone. You challenge me, encourage me, and exasperate me, but you fill me like nothing else has ever done, and I can’t imagine my life without you. I want to be your partner in more than just the news industry. Please say you’ll marry me, and we can spend a lifetime exploring the world or just one corner of it, if you prefer.”
Mouth working, Cora struggled to put her thoughts into words. She’d vowed never to remarry, and certainly not in wartime. Was she being foolish? Short-sighted? Disloyal to Brian, whose image grew dimmer with each passing day?
Separated more than they were together during the short marriage, they barely knew each other. Their relationship had been sweet, but immature, a fledgling kind of love that was untried, unproven, and then it was too late. Brian was gone. But now, God was giving her a second chance.
“Please, Cora, talk to me. Tell me you love me, too. That I’m not imagining the connection we have.”
Laughter bubbled up from inside, and she nodded. “I’ve been fighting the feeling because I was afraid. Afraid to open up my heart again. Afraid I was being unfaithful to Brian’s memory. Just…afraid.”
A wrinkled creased his brow. “And now?” His words were whispered, uncertain.
“Now, I’m not.” She sighed. “All of my preconceived notions seem silly. I don’t know why I let them–”
He pressed his mouth to hers, cutting off further conversation. Gentle at first, then more insistent, his kiss explored her lips. Then he pulled away and kissed the tip of her nose. His eyes sparkled. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“You interrupted me.” She giggled and tapped a finger on her cheek, looking off in the distance, pretending to consider his proposal. “My answer is…yes.”
With a shout, he pulled her to him, then sprang back. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, you’ve healed the hurt that was crippling me, and I love you more than you can imagine.” She snaked her arms around his neck and laid her head on his chest, the steady beat of his heart thrumming in rhythm with hers.
THE END