That task, of helping K.T. sit up, eat some soup, and walk to the latrine and back again, was easier than it should have been, only because he was so intent on doing most of it himself, even though it clearly pained him. Wendy was glad when he was back in bed and the dressings all reapplied.
He was worn out and though he denied it, she was sure he was in pain. It was impossible to jump to the end of healing, but telling him that would be as useless as wishing there was more she could do for him.
After making sure he was as comfortable as possible, Wendy left the room, however, she’d barely entered the hallway when she encountered Seaman Scott Westman. A great sense of protectiveness rose up inside her.
“Good evening, Nurse Smith,” he greeted. “I’m here to see Lieutenant McCallister again. Is he awake?”
Not only had K.T. requested to see him, the first time the tall, somewhat lanky seaman had come to the hospital she had recognized him as the man Oklahoma had been laughing with the night of the dance. She wanted to tell him to come back later, but knew that would only cause more frustration for both men. “Yes, he is,” she answered. “But I can only allow you to stay for a few minutes. He needs his rest.”
“Of course.” The seaman turned worried green eyes to the door. “How is he doing? Is there any hope for him to return to duty?”
“Yes, there is, but it will take time.” She gestured toward the room, then led the way for him to follow.
Arriving beside his bed, she touched K.T.’s arm. “You have company,” she said quietly. “Seaman Westman.”
He jolted slightly. “Scott?”
“Present,” the seaman said. “I brought your mail. Letters from home. I can read them to you, if you’d like.”
“Give them to Nurse Smith. She’ll read them to me later. I need you to fill me in on what’s going on out there. How’s the unit? We lose anyone?”
Wendy took the three envelopes the seaman handed to her and slid them in her apron pocket, where the other two letters were that she still had to add notes to. “Five minutes,” she mouthed, while holding up one hand, fingers spread.
The seaman nodded.
She stepped around the portable curtain wall to give them privacy, and spent the next five minutes trying to look busy all the while keeping a close eye on her wristwatch. The destruction and devastation covering the island was real, and though she had told K.T. about plenty of it, she didn’t know about his specific unit, not the damage or loss of life. It was impossible to protect him from grief, to protect anyone from grief, no matter how deeply she wished that was possible.
Seaman Westman walked around the curtain just as the five-minute countdown struck on her watch. He gave her a slight nod. “I told him I’d be back tomorrow, if that’s okay?”
“Yes, that will be fine,” she replied.
Concern etched his face as he looked over his shoulder. “I had to tell him we had two men injured. They’re on the Solace. From what I’ve learned, they are expected to make full recoveries.”
“What are their names?” she asked, knowing K.T. would want more details. “I’ll make inquiries.”
“Nate Hardin and Gavin Perry.”
“Nate Hardin and Gavin Perry,” Wendy repeated so she’d remember the names until she could write them down.
“Yes, thank you. I’ll stop by before dark tomorrow.”
She nodded and waited until he’d exited the room before she walked around the curtain. Arriving near the head of the bed, she laid her hand over his. “Would you like a drink of water?”
“No, thanks, I’m fine.”
He didn’t sound fine. He sounded like a man heavy with worry. “Would you like me to read your letters from home now, while we still have some light?” Once night fell, the blackout orders didn’t allow any lights except flashlights as needed.
His sigh seemed to echo off the walls. “Sure.”
She reached in her pocket and pulled out the three envelopes. The return address on the top one was from Betty Nelson. She had been going to ask him which one he’d want to hear first, but assumed this might be the one to cheer him up the most. Quietly, she unsealed the envelope and pulled out a single, folded piece of paper. Something slipped from the folds. A chain. Thin, and gold, like a necklace chain.
Unfolding the paper, she discovered it was a necklace. A dainty, very pretty one, with a teardrop pearl dangling off the gold chain. It seemed an odd thing for a woman to mail to a man, but who was she to judge? She’d never written to a man other than a family member. While licking her lips in preparation of reading the letter aloud, she scanned the first few lines just to familiarize herself with the handwriting, but what she read stopped her heart.
“On second thought, let’s wait until tomorrow,” K.T. said. “I’m tired, but I do have a favor to ask.”
“Anything,” Wendy replied while quickly shoving the letter, envelope, and necklace back in her pocket without putting the necklace or letter back in the envelope. Her insides were trembling because of what she’d read. So were her hands.
“A couple of my unit members are on the Solace,” he said.
“Nate Hardin and Gavin Perry,” she said. “I’ll make inquiries and let you know everything as soon as I hear back.”
“Thanks.”
“Anything else?” she asked, trying to sound calm, even though her heart was still pounding over what she’d read.
“No, I’m just going to rest a bit.”
She touched his hand briefly in parting, then left the room rapidly. In the hallway, she placed a trembling hand over her mouth in disbelief. Horrific disbelief. Maybe she hadn’t read what she thought she read. Dare she read it again? It wasn’t any of her business, but there had been a necklace.
Digging a hand in her pocket, she felt the chain, the teardrop-shaped pearl. That was definitely there. What was she going to do? She couldn’t tell him. Not while he was so sick.
He’d just heard bad news about others in his unit. She couldn’t add to that. Tell him more bad news.
Several seconds ticked by as she stood there, contemplating what to do and if she’d truly read what she’d thought she’d read. It had just been a fast scan of the first paragraph. Maybe she’d misconstrued the words.
Glancing left and right, she pulled the letter out, to scan it again.
K.T. tried hard to get his mind off the pain. Getting up and sitting in a chair long enough to eat had hurt like hell, and walking to the latrine had made skin on the back of his calves sting like the dickens. If Nebraska had still been in the room, he might have asked her to go ahead and read the letters from home, just so he’d have had something else to focus on, but that would have only been a short-term fix. He needed to heal, get back to work. That’s what was causing the real anguish inside him.
Nate and Gavin were good men. Good welders and divers. They’d been two of the first men he’d met after enlisting. Scott hadn’t known much about their condition, just that they’d been injured by incoming fire and were receiving treatment on the Solace.
The rest of the unit had gone to work the day of the attack, salvaging. A daunting task. The USS Nevada was run aground just opposite from the hospital. The USS Arizona and the USS West Virginia were in shambles, the USS Oklahoma was belly-up, and others complete wrecks. Scott claimed that at least seven battleships, three cruisers, three destroyers, a mine craft, and five auxiliaries were either destroyed, sunk, or damaged beyond use.
Thinking of the number of casualties was overwhelming. It was in the thousands and bodies were still being recovered.
Orders had been given that every ship needed to be repaired. Get back in service as soon as possible, or before.
Every available man had been assigned to the recovery effort, but it was still basically in the assessment stage. Scott had a good handle on the tasks, and K.T. had given advice and suggestions that could help. Lying here on his stomach was torturous. He should be out there, leading his unit under the water. It was his responsibility to make sure protocols were being followed. One gauge misread could cause the loss of a diver.
Every man in the unit knew that, and were well trained, the best at what they did. He appreciated that, but they shouldn’t have to shoulder his duties.
He had no idea how long he mused over such things, but the room had gone dark. Pitch-black dark, thanks to the blackout curtains that didn’t let any moonlight enter through the window. While sitting up earlier, he hadn’t seen much of the room. Other than it was all white.
Everything was white. The walls, the floors, the beds, the blankets, the doors, the curtain separating him from the other patients. This was his first stay in a hospital. First visit, and he’d be glad if it was also his last.
Once he finally got out.
Snores coming from one or more of the other patients in the room weren’t overly loud or irritating, they just confirmed that once the sun went down and darkness filled the rooms, there was nothing to do but sleep. Or think for those who couldn’t fall to sleep.
That’s the category he was in.
His mind was dragging up too many thoughts. Old and new ones.
The subtle creaking of wheels grew closer. A nurse pushing a cart. He’d heard it on and off all day. His heart quickened, but returned to normal as the creaking faded. It had simply been in the hallway, not his room. There was no denying that he’d been hoping it was Nebraska coming to see him. It probably wasn’t time to change his bandages yet; he just wanted to talk to someone, get his mind off the things he couldn’t do right now.
For the briefest of moments, he wondered if he was imagining the soft touch on the back of his hand, but the hitch inside him said he wasn’t imagining it. This not seeing anything except the floor was for the birds. “That you, Nebraska?” he asked.
“Yes, it’s me,” she replied in a whisper. “How are you doing?”
“Not used to going to bed at six o’clock.”
“It’s almost seven if that helps.”
He grinned, although he wasn’t exactly sure why, other than she tended to make him smile. Had since the moment he’d first seen her on the dance floor.
“The blackout does have its inconveniences,” she said.
Inconveniences wasn’t the word he would use, but he also knew the reasons why the blackout had been issued. The entire island was under martial law and would continue to be for a long time. “How can you see to do your job? It’s pitch-black in here.” He was used to working in the dark. There was no light underwater and he’d been trained to use his senses, see with his hands, while working the welding torches.
“I have a flashlight,” she said.
He scanned as much of the floor as possible, looking for a hint of light. “Is it on?”
“No, I have to save the batteries for when I need it.”
As far as nurses, he’d only encountered her and Nurse Manning, and had no doubt that either of them let anything stop them from their duties. “You’re walking around in the dark? From room to room?”
“Yes, I’ve gotten used to it. Hardly even stub a toe.”
Stub a toe? Hell, she could fall down, trip over something, break a bone and end up in the hospital herself. “You need to be careful,” he said. “And use the flashlight.”
She giggled softly. “I do use it. Would you like a drink of water?”
“I don’t want you to have to crawl on the floor, especially not in the dark.”
“I’ll be fine.” Her hand patted the back of his softly. “I’ll be right back.”
The rush of heat throughout his system was shocking and unsettling. He had wanted someone to talk to, and had hoped it would be her. The only reason that made sense was because she was the only person he knew in this place.
Nothing more.
He swallowed against the dryness of his mouth.
A beam of light appeared and seconds later, her face was directly below his. To say he was taken aback by her smile would be a lie, he was mesmerized by it, and did his best to quickly collect himself.
“I turned on the light so I don’t poke you in the eye with the tube,” she said, grinning.
Another sudden rush of heat had him questioning what had gotten into him. Earlier, he’d gotten a look at Nurse Manning. She wasn’t homely, simply older, and had been as kind and efficient in seeing to his care as Nebraska, but he knew damn well, if Nurse Manning was the one lying beneath his bed, sliding the tube up through the springs for him to get a drink of water, his body wouldn’t be reacting the way it was right now.
Nor would his heart.
The end of the tube touched his lips and he took a drink. Then another, just because she had to go to such lengths so he could drink. “That’s enough,” he said. “You can climb out.”
She pulled the tube through the bed springs and lowered the glass to the floor. “Would you like me to read one of your letters from home?”
“No. I don’t want you to waste your batteries on that.”
A click sounded and the beam of light was gone. “Okay, then, what do you want to talk about?”
She was still lying on the floor. He could see a shadowy outline. Or maybe it was just his mind, recalling her image in the darkness. “Nothing. You can climb out.”
“I don’t have anywhere that I need to be until it’s time to mix up the solution for your dressing changes.” After a moment of silence, she continued, “I saw Pearl again. She’s an adorable little baby, and Will said to say hello. He had to leave before curfew, which starts at sunset. Very few have actual night passes, where they can freely move about.”
“What about you?” he asked. “You leave at midnight.”
“I have a hospital pass. It allows me to walk from the hospital to my living quarters. The building is a short distance behind the hospital. There are machine gun stations on all corners of the roofs, manned at all times, and when I leave, the sentry outside has a flashlight, which is covered with blue paper with a tiny hole in it, and he flashes it at the men on the roofs so they know I’m walking between the buildings.”
He wished he could touch her, comfort her, and searched for words to use instead. It was a far different world now than before. The tension and fear had to be so high that the men manning the guns might shoot at anything that moved in the dark. “Those men on the roofs will keep you safe,” he said, unable to think of anything else.
“I’m not afraid of them.”
She shouldn’t have to be afraid of anything. That attack had changed everything. “We didn’t have any carriers in port when we were attacked,” he said. “They were out at sea, and still are. Loaded with planes ready to launch at the first sight of another attack.” He and Scott had talked briefly about that earlier, and he hoped that would ease her fears.
“We are more prepared for them on land, too,” she said. “Every roof has machine gun stations on them, and there are armed soldiers everywhere, at all times. We won’t be surprised again.”
They shouldn’t have been surprised the first time, but more than that, he didn’t want her to become frightened by talking about the current situation. “Tell me about the fishing flies you made with your uncle. What was your favorite color?” It was the first topic that popped into his head.
“My favorite color doesn’t matter,” she replied. “That’s up to the fish. But my favorite feather types, are pheasant feathers. They are plentiful, of the perfect form, and if you care about color, you have all bases covered. There’s hardly a more colorful bird. I’ve had one fly that I made when I was ten or so, and it’s still perfect. Dries out like new after every use. How about you?”
“I haven’t fished with flies as much as worms,” he admitted. “All I had to do was dig them up.”
After a short silence, she asked, “Do you think sea bass are the same as the bass back home? I mean, do you think they go for flies? The bass back home sure do. Trout, too, at the right time of the year.”
“I’m not sure. Why?”
“I’ll have to find out,” she said, “so we’ll know what kind of bait we need when we go fishing.”
That would never happen. Once he was out of here, he doubted he’d see her again. There would be no reason to. Be that as it may, it didn’t settle well inside him. “What else did you do back in Nebraska?”
“I worked at my uncle and aunt’s store, and every Sunday, I’d drive them over to Scottsbluff to see their son Sid. He’s a lawyer, and he and his wife, Sarah, have two children. Sissy, whose real name is Cassandra, but we all call her Sissy. She’s ten. And Sid junior, whom we all call Junior. He’s seven. Aunt Ella and Uncle Sy’s other son...”
She continued talking about her family, and he continued to listen, enjoying simply listening to her talk, right up until she proclaimed it was time for her to go get everything ready for his dressing changes.
Before leaving, she clicked on the flashlight and snaked the tube back up through the springs for him to have another drink of water.
He took a sip and as the light clicked off again, he closed his eyes, locking the image of her face in his mind.
There was not only a heaviness inside Wendy, there was a darkness that she’d never encountered before. She had no idea how to lighten it, either.
Well, she did, but she couldn’t do it. Couldn’t tell Oklahoma about Betty. He was strapped on his stomach with severe burns covering his back. The last thing he needed to hear right now was that the woman he loved, the woman he’d dated for years, had found another man.
Yes, she’d read the letter again. More than once, and that was exactly what Betty had said in the letter. That she was returning the necklace that K.T. had sent to her because she didn’t feel right keeping it now that she was seeing someone else. A man named Jim Jackson that she said was someone who K.T. didn’t know. Jim had come to town recently, and she hadn’t been able to stop herself from falling in love with him.
Wendy didn’t believe that. It was easy to not fall in love with someone. You just didn’t. If she’d ever been worried about that happening, she would have simply stayed away from them. Of course, she never worried about that happening, because it wouldn’t. She wouldn’t fall in love with anyone.
An uneasiness made her stomach quiver. Was she like Betty, or actually, was Betty like her? Didn’t want to be left behind? Is that why Betty fell in love with someone else? It wasn’t the same thing! Oklahoma hadn’t abandoned Betty. He was doing his job. Serving his country. That was completely different.
He was completely different.
Different than who? Her father? She’d never known her father. Or why he’d left. Why was she sticking her nose in where it didn’t belong? That’s what Aunt Ella would call it.
Keeping the news from him was wrong, but he was her patient and her job was to make sure he healed as quickly as possible. Grief of this sort could prolong his healing.
That was her justification, and she would stick to it.
Therefore, the next day, when it came time to read him his letters from home, she only read two of them. One from his mother that told him about how all of his family was doing, including that no one had heard from his cousin Ralph in North Dakota since he’d enlisted in the army and everyone was worried, and one from his brother, Jud, that told him all about a new dog they’d gotten, Buster, that was quickly learning how to behave from their old dog, Duke.
He expounded on both letters, telling her more about his family, including his cousins Ralph and Dale in North Dakota, and his dog, Duke, that he’d taught to round up the milk cows and herd them into the barn each night without even being told.
The conversation made her smile because it was clear how proud he was of that dog. He spoke highly of all members of his family, but did question why his father had told surveyors to stay off their property. She had almost skipped over that part, because Betty had mentioned that Jim Jackson was one of the surveyors that had come to the area looking for natural gas.
Her stomach squirmed as she replied to his question, “It doesn’t say why.”
“I know why. He doesn’t want to be swindled. A natural gas field that extends through the panhandle was discovered a few years ago and brought some jobs to the area, but the landowners felt they weren’t being treated fairly, and the lawyers they hired to defend them ended up siding with the gas company when it came to mineral rights. It’s caused a lot of contention. Our land was outside of the designated field area, but they could be looking to expand that. If gas was found, it could mean added income for my family and they need that, but it would depend upon the deal struck.”
While he explained more about the discovery of the gas field, her mind went down another pathway. She knew nothing about gas fields or legal issues, but knew someone who did. Sid had discussed some of his cases with Uncle Sy during their Sunday dinners, and she recalled one discussion about mineral rights on farmland.
She didn’t tell him that, because she was still thinking about Betty’s letter, and the fact that she hadn’t read it to him.
That thought plagued her over the next few days, and into the next week, where changes were implemented. Although the hospital was still filled with patients, discharges and transfers happened daily, and her hours were once again changed. Her shift was now twelve hours long, from eight in the morning to eight at night. So were Gloria’s which meant another nurse was assigned to overseeing Oklahoma’s cares during the night shift.
Although Gloria didn’t always follow the schedule. She continued to be at the hospital day and night, leaving only long enough for a few hours of sleep. Her techniques were now being used on several patients. All nurses seeing to burn patients had been well trained, but Wendy still worried about K.T. and reviewed the notes in his chart every morning with intense scrutiny.
She was also provided with days off, as were all the staff. That was concerning to her, too, and during her first day off, staying away was impossible. Not only was guilt over Betty’s letter eating at her, she was worried that he might receive another letter from her, or from a family member who mentioned Betty and the man she’d fallen in love with.
Wearing a blue-and-white-striped dress rather than her nurse’s uniform, she entered K.T.’s room. By the way his feet were moving, she knew he was awake. Gathering a glass of water and his drinking tube, she walked to his bed, lay down and scooted beneath it without saying a word.
His smile sent her heart dancing.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. “It’s your day off.”
“I thought that I would put it to good use,” she said. “I went to the Solace and visited with Nate and Gavin.” Through her inquiries, she learned that they both had been hit by shrapnel. Nate had to have pieces of metal picked out throughout his torso, but was healing well, and Gavin had been hit so hard, his left leg had been broken. The trip had taken her the better part of the morning because the ship was on the other side of the harbor and she’d had to convince a boatman to take her there, for official hospital reasons, she’d assured the man.
“They both are doing very well and said to tell you hello,” she continued, after telling him about their injuries. “Nate said he’ll stop by to see you after he’s released this coming week, and Gavin wants to know if you want to wager on who’ll get out first between you and him.”
“Me,” Oklahoma replied, around the tube he’d been drinking from.
“I told him that’s what you’d say. The bet is five bucks.”
He took another drink before releasing the tube. “Sounds good to me, and thanks for the drink. I was getting thirsty.”
A hint of irritation rose up inside her. “Did no one offer you a drink yet today?”
“Yes, they did. I had plenty to drink with breakfast and will have more with lunch.”
Wendy remained silent for the next several moments, accepting the tangible sense of awareness she always felt in his presence. It went far deeper than she knew it should, because it was unique, different from anything she’d experienced. She wanted to believe it was because she was worried about his care, yet, couldn’t quite convince herself that was the reason. She was also questioning if those unique feelings played a role in why she hadn’t told him about Betty’s letter.
She didn’t want to believe that was true, because she didn’t want to contemplate what that might mean. “Well, that’s good,” she finally said, putting her thoughts back on his care. “You need to tell them when you’re thirsty, though, at other times of the day.”
“I’m not about to ask anyone else to climb beneath the bed. I wouldn’t have asked that of you, either.”
“It’s all part of your care,” she said, a bit defensive. Everything she did was a part of his care.
“Everything is part of your patient’s care,” he said, as if reading her mind. “To you, and that’s why you are a very good nurse. The best nurse.”
Warmth flooded her cheeks, because she knew that dancing with him hadn’t had anything to do with nursing. Pushing that thought aside, she said, “Flattery will get you nowhere. You have to stay hydrated, or I’ll request that another IV be stuck in your arm.”
“You would, wouldn’t you?”
The thinly veiled amusement in his eyes couldn’t be missed. She gave him a mocking grin in return. “In a jiffy.”
“Don’t get too excited over that idea,” he said. “Believe me, I don’t want to be in this position any longer than I have to be.”
She believed him, and it had become easier for him to get up to eat every day. A visceral stirring happened deep in the core of her being, one that said even though she wanted him to heal and return to duty for his sake, she would miss him when he was discharged. Miss him more than she should.
“What do you plan on doing the rest of your day off?” he asked.
Accepting his change of subject, she shrugged. “I’m not sure.” In the past, her days off had been filled with plans for sightseeing long before the day had arrived. That had all changed. Traveling off the base was not allowed without permission, and only then for specific reasons. She had no reason; furthermore, she had no desire.
The memory of what she had planned for her last day off snuck in, that of going to see the palace. While dancing with him, she’d wondered if he’d want to see that, but now wasn’t overly sure she’d ever see it. The memory was tarnished by the attack and by the fact that the entire band from the USS Arizona had perished that morning.
“Maybe you could find yourself a good book and sit in the sun, doing nothing but reading,” he suggested.
“Is that what you would do?” she asked.
“Probably not. I was just trying to think of a way for you to relax.”
His thoughtfulness made her smile. “What did you do to relax?” she asked. “On your days off?”
“Never really took a day off. There were always things that needed to be done. Paperwork, order forms, equipment repairs, blueprints to be studied, the list goes on.”
She was sure it did, and she was sure lying here every day was getting harder not easier for him. “What did you do back home to relax?”
His gaze shifted away from her. It was noticeable because he couldn’t turn his head, only move his eyes, and it dawned on her where his mind probably had gone. Any time off, he’d probably spent with Betty. Guilt struck again. Not only had she not told him about the letter, she hadn’t mailed the letter he’d asked her to pen to Betty. She had mailed the one to his mother, and had added a note to it as promised.
She had also mailed letters to her family, assuring them of her well-being, small bits of information about the attack, and simply because of her own curiosity, she’d asked Sid if he knew of a respectable lawyer in the Guymon, Oklahoma, area who could help a family with a gas company wanting to survey their land.
Her nerves were getting the best of her over Betty’s letter. Every day she wondered if another one had arrived for him from Betty, saying she’d changed her mind, or...just all sorts of things.
“I already told you that answer,” he finally said. “Fishing with my dad.”
She suddenly had something that she needed to do today. Something that would get her mind off other things. All she’d require were some fishhooks and feathers; her sewing kit would provide her with everything else, other than a good pair of pliers. Christmas was only a few days away and that would make the perfect gift for him.
“What are you smiling about?” he asked.
“Nothing, just thinking of my day off.”
“Sure you are.”
She let out an exaggerated sigh at his teasing. “Believe what you may, but that is what I’m thinking about.” The very familiar sound of a cart being pushed along the hallway was her signal to leave. She didn’t want the other nurses to think she didn’t believe they were doing their jobs. “I better leave now.”
“Don’t want to get caught under my bed on your day off?”
Her cheeks burned and she did her best to ignore it, and his grin, as she climbed out from beneath the bed. “Drink your fluids or else,” she said before walking to the door, smiling at his chuckling.