The singing and merriment outside the hospital tent contrasted starkly with the moans of the wounded men inside, but Ginger couldn’t begrudge the celebration. Days ago, wearied men had risen from their trenches in Gaza and made a final assault on the city on the hill. Today, they’d finally broken through.
The Ottomans were on the run.
Ginger finished working on a dressing and made her way outside. The sun was setting, and, with it, the gaiety increased. Whisky and rum from the rations were being toasted freely, even among the medical personnel. She approached the Mess and saw dinner had spilled outside, where nurses exhausted from working fourteen-hour shifts ignored the call to their beds and instead danced with the medical officers.
Matron bumped past her as she hurried to pull a nurse from a rowdy embrace. “Oh, Sister Whitman—” Miss Walsh shook her head, glancing at the celebration. “I’m glad to have you here, even if it’s only for a couple of weeks. You sure you can’t convince that matron in Alexandria to send you back to me for good?”
Ginger smiled. “I think my extended time in clearing stations is over, unfortunately.” Her work at the hospital in Alexandria kept her fulfilled while also giving her time to visit her mother and Lucy.
Miss Walsh scrutinized her dirty uniform. “Not enjoying the celebration, dear?”
“My shift just ended. I think my bed is more appealing right now.”
Miss Walsh patted her hand. “These new sisters—they can’t live up to the standard you set. You’re a good person. One who always does her best. You don’t need to feel so burdened. There’s a war on. And you’ve already done more than your bit. Now go and enjoy yourself.”
A weight seemed to lift from Ginger’s shoulders. She’d taken Miss Walsh’s praise for granted before. But time had allowed the matron’s words to take on a meaning she hadn’t quite allowed herself to believe before. She had signed up for nursing. What she’d actually accomplished had been far greater, and at a high price.
Ginger opened her mouth to reply when hooting began. An orderly had kissed the dancing nurse.
Miss Walsh lifted her hand and rushed off toward the other sister.
Ginger watched the merry group. None of the sisters she’d known while working here remained, though during her last lunch with Beatrice in Cairo, her friend had mentioned requesting to come back to the front soon. With the offensive into Palestine at last continuing, there would be a need to establish new clearing stations further down the line.
“Jerusalem by Christmas!” A medic caught her hands, attempting to pull her in toward the group.
She turned him away politely. He continued toward another nurse, undeterred. She’d heard the slogan all day, even from the wounded. They were the new crusaders, their goal decided. The year had been disastrous for the British, but they’d held the line in the Middle East and France by the skin of their teeth. Taking Jerusalem would be a morale boost for the entire country until the Americans arrived at the front in the spring.
Her spirits lifted at the surrounding happiness, despite the death and injury she’d seen during the day. This was the normal now. Miss Walsh was right. And Ginger was proud of her countrymen. She should enjoy the celebration, now that it was here.
An orderly tapped on her shoulder. “Sister Whitman?”
She gave him a wary sidelong glance, expecting he wanted to ask her to dance. “Yes?”
“There’s an irritable colonel asking for you over by triage.” He lowered his voice. “He’s accusing you of making a terrible decision with one of his men.”
She groaned inwardly. Not again. For as long as the war continued, she would butt heads with the brass. She thought of the inquiry to the London School of Medicine for Women sitting in her desk at the hospital in Alexandria. She’d send it as soon as she got back.
She left the noise near the Mess behind her, following the orderly in silence. She did a mental scan of the various risky calls she’d made throughout the day. Nothing untoward came to mind.
As they passed the railhead, she caught sight of the plain in the valley where the troops had encamped for months. Fires and raucous noise came from those men who had stayed behind from the battle. She had no doubts they were also enjoying extra sips of liquor and cigarettes.
Up ahead, the well and stone huts where she’d first met Ahmed and Noah came into view. She looked away. Eight days of being out here, and she’d avoided a trip in this direction. She’d hesitated accepting the assignment to the clearing station for this reason.
Her pace slowed. Don’t think about him. She could think of Ahmed with more ease than she did Noah. Ahmed only haunted her dreams sometimes. Noah invaded them nightly.
The orderly turned in front of the well. “This way.”
She sighed with relief. At least she wouldn’t have to pass in front of the hut.
As the terrain shifted from the hard-trodden path into the soft sand, she relaxed. By the palm trees near the well and the distant ocean, she could almost forget how much had happened here. She’d spent months doing her best to keep the memories at bay, and she was determined to continue.
The orderly halted.
She looked at him, confused. She didn’t see the triage station, just a sole tent ahead.
An officer stepped out.
Noah.
Her breath caught, her knees went weak.
The pain of the last six months, the constant wondering if he was alive, if she’d see him again, threatened to dissolve her into a puddle in the desert sand.
He was here.
He was here?
How long had he been close by? When had he recovered?
A thousand questions assailed her as one thought rose to warn her. She’d promised Lord Helton to stay away.
In her dreams, he’d come to her this way, almost within reach, and she was ready for him to sweep her into his arms, to feel the warmth of his kiss, the intensity of his dark-blue gaze.
And now that he was here, she wasn’t ready.
He stopped a foot away. He removed his hat and tucked it between his elbow and torso. He appeared thinner than she remembered. She recognized the insignia of a colonel on his cuffs.
A breeze rustled the palm fronds above them, the humid warmth of the November evening enveloping them. A mist clouded his eyes, his expression gentle. He wiped his eyes with his fingertips. “I thought I could be clever. But seeing you … I’ve lost every line I rehearsed.”
She laughed tearfully and drew a shaking breath. Sinking to her knees, she covered her mouth, unable to find her voice.
He knelt in front of her and embraced her. She wept, joy and sorrow exploding through every fiber of her body. He stroked her back, his arms sturdy.
When her cries subsided, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Then you didn’t forget me?”
She smiled, wiping her eyes. “Why, did you forget me?”
He held her face in both his hands and kissed her forehead again, before dropping his lips to hers for a brief kiss. “Forget my darling wife? Not possible.”
She scanned his eyes. Something in his tone sounded serious. “Your …?” Tears still clung to her lashes. The memory of the last night she’d lain beside him pushed through her heart. “The vows you said in the desert …”
“Of course we’ll have to make it official. I don’t want there to be any doubt in anyone’s mind.” Noah kissed her again. “You’ve had my heart since the moment we met. And now you have all of me. Body and soul, rohi.”
It hadn’t been a dream.
“If your goal is to have me sob again, you’re nearly there.” She slid her arms around his neck and kissed him as though six months hadn’t passed between their parting. “I love you, Noah.”
Noah stood and pulled her to her feet. “Come with me.”
She glanced over her shoulder. The orderly who had led her out here had vanished, and they appeared to be alone. She hesitated. “I promised Lord Helton I’d stay away from you. While the war was going on.”
Noah gripped her hands and tugged her in his direction. “I made no such promise.”
She wasn’t about to argue with his logic. Clasping his hand, she let him lead her toward the beach. They strolled along the side of the water. She had so many things she wanted to ask him. “How long are you here for?”
“Just for the night. I’m passing through on my way to Kantara.” His hand tightened. “I know it’s not much time. I tried to send you a few messages before now, but Lord Helton intercepted them. So I recommended you to the RAMC for duty here during the battle.”
He’d been the one to arrange for her transfer out here? The revelation made her wonder what other lengths he had gone to in an attempt to contact her. “I almost didn’t accept the assignment.” A path of bird footprints crisscrossed the sand in front of them. “This place holds so many memories—both good and bad.”
“I know.” He cleared his throat. “Ahmed would be proud. You gave his work meaning. And Foreign Secretary Lord Balfour has issued a mandate officially committing our government to the Zionist cause of a Jewish state. The news should break in the newspapers within the next couple of days.”
She bit her lip. She’d often thought about the politics behind the intrigue from May. “I’m not certain that’s good.”
“Neither am I. Not in the manner that it’s happened, at least. And we’re hearing news of a Bolshevik coup on the provisional government in Russia today, so our fears about the Russians pulling out of the war will likely be realized.” Noah stopped and drew her into his arms. “But today is a good day, at least for us.”
He reached into his pocket and opened his hand. “I have something for you.” A silver ring, the Irish Claddagh, lay in his palm. “It was my mother’s. One of the few things I have of hers.”
The ring glinted in the fading light, reflecting the reds and oranges of the sunset. She blinked at it as he pushed it onto the ring finger of her left hand, where it fit snugly. She’d sold almost every other piece of jewelry she owned in June to give her mother the money. While her mother accepted the situation with resoluteness, Lucy was nearly inconsolable about the changes in their lives. “It’s beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful. It’s just a ring.” Noah kissed her, this time his kiss more ardent than before.
She broke away and led him toward a rocky area of the beach, where several boulders projected into the sea like a natural jetty. Tide pools formed near the natural coves in the rock formations, filled with warm water from the sun’s rays. When she’d come out here in March, she and Beatrice had combed through these tide pools, looking for clams near the rocks.
She led him toward a low, flat boulder and sat him down facing the sea. With a hint of a smile, she stood in front of him and pushed his jacket away. She unbuttoned his shirt deftly, but it took his help to remove the undershirt.
She didn’t mean to gasp at the scars on his shoulder and chest, but she did. The whitened scar tissue still looked new and angry. She traced a finger over the one by his shoulder. “How did your arm heal?”
Goose bumps rose on his skin under her fingertip. “I still can’t lift it over my head. But it’s not much, compared to what it could have been.” He grinned and turned her in his arms so they faced the same direction. “Because of you.” He placed a kiss near her jaw, below her earlobe, and kissed down the length of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. “It’s your turn.” He tugged at the buttons on the back of her dress.
“My turn for what?” She teased him with a smile, which turned into a laugh as he peeled her dress away. An excited thrill coursed through her. It had been so long since they’d been together, she’d expected to feel shy. Yet there wasn’t any self-consciousness at all, just the comfort that came so naturally to her when they were in each other’s company.
“Why on earth do women wear so many layers of clothing?” His grumble sounded deep in his chest as his hands settled at her hips, smoothing over her curves.
She stepped away from him and finished the process herself. “To frustrate our lovers. Or enforce chastity.” She looked over her shoulder at him.
His eyes roamed her body appreciatively before he gathered her into his arms, his hands settling on her firm breasts. “Is that what you want?”
“Not at all. But now you’re the one who’s overdressed.” She tilted her face toward his as their lips met. She returned his kiss eagerly, her arm wrapping up and back around his neck as the rough palms of his hands grazed over her skin.
He paused and swung her into his arms, then tossed her into one of the deeper tide pools. She shrieked, landing with a splash, the warm water to her shoulders as she sat. “Hilarious. You’re lucky you didn’t throw me on top of a pinching crab.”
He smiled and removed his trousers, before wading in beside her. “I’ll be more than happy to pinch you myself if you’d like.” His hands glided behind her back before settling on her hips. He pushed her knees apart, setting her feet on either side of him. A quick lift brought her onto his lap.
A soft moan escaped her, and she gripped his neck, her eyes locked with his. “Impatient?” She fitted her mouth over his, sinking into the familiarity of his touch, the smoothness of their lovemaking.
“Famished.” His lips trailed over her shoulder. “But if we only have this one night, I intend to make the most of it.”
The sun made one final burst of light, the sky reminding her of a watercolor painting, an explosion of color. Her body, flushed and tingling, seemed to forget the difficult days behind them, the challenges still before them, as they surrendered themselves entirely to each other.
When they climbed out of the water, he gave her his shirt to wear and put on his trousers once again. They settled against the sand. She nestled her head against his chest, watching as the stars emerged. “Where will you go after this?”
“The same places they’ve assigned me the last few months: Cairo, Jerusalem, Aleppo. The desert. Never Alexandria.”
She shook her head. “It’s as though someone doesn’t want you there.”
He chuckled, resting his chin on the top of her head. “It wasn’t easy coordinating a way to see you. But between the battles, there hasn’t been the time either.”
Although it had become an unconscious habit, she felt for the scar on her chest. “And no word on Stephen?”
“He’s disappeared for now.” Noah interlaced the fingers of his hand with hers, staring for a moment at the ring he’d given her. “But Lord Helton never put me on the hunt for him. He wanted me to move on to other assignments.” He shifted her onto the sand and looked at her. “I’m not sure when or how, but I fear he’ll return at some point. The thought keeps me awake more often than I’d like to admit.”
She nodded. “I have nightmares about it. I don’t feel safe ever.”
“Lord Helton has good men keeping your family safe. They’re protected.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “And I’ll always find my way back to you, Ginger. I promise. I won’t let him or anyone else ever get between us. As long as I’m breathing, I’ll be thinking of a way to come home to you.”
Come home.
She kissed him, his words ringing true. She’d thought of home as a house and a name. It wasn’t. Home was in their interwoven hearts, in their love.
Ginger closed her eyes, her shoulders falling back. In the distance, gunfire popped. The war raged on, but the day had brought a tide of hope not only to a sea of tired soldiers but their country, and to her. Even in the darkest days, when betrayal and death had nearly swept her away, hope had persisted. What had been carried off in the Arabian winds had been replaced with a love she’d never expected. And with Noah by her side, the quiet promise of dawn awaited.