October 28, 1945
Fran was glad to be done with the exam and also glad to have her visit to her mother almost over. She would catch the train to start the long journey back to the mountains early on Monday. Only Sunday to get through.
Nothing was the same. Her mother and her new husband had moved into a different house, and so the home Fran knew was gone. At this house, she slept in the spare bedroom that was all white and pink ruffles. A room for a little girl princess that she never was or wanted to be. Nothing from her old bedroom was there.
“Don’t worry,” her mother said when Fran asked about her clothes and books. “I packed up what was good and stored it in the attic. I wrote you we were moving. You should have come home and cleaned out your room yourself. I had no idea you had that many books.”
“Are they in the attic too?”
“Oh no. We couldn’t carry those up there. We gave them away.”
“Even my copy of Little Women that Grandma Howard gave me?” Fran treasured that book. She and her grandmother had read it aloud to one another the summer she was twelve.
“Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t have time to look through all those dusty old books.”
Fran pulled in a breath to calm herself, but the loss of that book was a stab to the heart. She had no reason to be surprised. Her mother had never paid much attention to what Fran liked. Her father might have known, but he was gone. His place was taken over by Harold Stephens, who was polite enough to Fran, but it was evident she had no permanent place at his house.
Early Sunday morning, Fran climbed into the attic to find a dress to wear to church. She dug through the clothes in the trunk. The red dress she had once worn to a dance with Seth was, of course, gone. Her mother would have never kept it. But there was a forest green dress with buttons down the front that would do. She gathered up stockings and underthings to take back to the mountains with her.
She sat back on her heels and closed her eyes. The stuffy attic disappeared and she could almost feel the mountain air against her face. She wished she could be getting ready to go to Wendover for chapel if no baby was ready to make an entrance. There they could show up in their nurse outfits. The service wasn’t for wearing hats and gloves. It was for inspiring and empowering them to keep doing their best.
But it would be good to go to church here too and see old friends. The one person she hadn’t thought about seeing was Seth, but her mother obviously had other ideas.
When they started out for church and turned on a different street, not the one for the church they had always attended, Fran asked, “Aren’t we going to Maple Avenue Church?”
“Not today, dear. I thought we’d go to the First Christian Church over on Midland today.”
“Mother, what are you up to?”
“Why do you think I’m up to something? I’m just trying to make your visit home good. More of your friends from school go to church there.”
Fran sank back in the seat. She knew which friend her mother wanted her to see, but it was useless to argue with her. Surely the Lord would forgive Fran’s prayer that Seth would skip church today, but even if he didn’t, she could smile and say hello. To him and his intended.
None of that mattered to her now. She had moved on. Tomorrow she would be on the way back to the mountains. There she was a different person, a nurse-midwife no longer consumed by the desire to marry and have a family. The Lord had given her a different purpose when he made a way for her to learn to catch babies. She smiled at that and remembered telling Ben Locke how much she liked mountain speak.
What was it she had told him her grandmother used to say? That when things got confused, that was when the Lord worked best. She’d depend on that to get her through the rest of this day. Her mother was obviously confused if she thought orchestrating a meeting between Seth and Fran would change anything. Especially since she didn’t even have that red dress to wear any longer.
Fran smiled at the thought. She didn’t need a red dress. She only needed her horse and dog and that important saddlebag. A better sense of direction might be nice though, Lord, she offered up silently. That could be her prayer today. That and somehow making it through the rest of the day without choking her mother.
The prayer that Seth might skip church wasn’t answered. Her mother poked her and pointed when Seth’s family came in. Thank goodness, none of them noticed, as Seth and his family continued on down the aisle toward the front of the church.
Seth looked different, but that was to be expected. Neither of them were schoolkids now. His hair was still short in a military style, and he moved with the easy confidence of a man, instead of the self-consciousness of a teen. The petite woman with him was as pretty as her picture. Her blonde hair curled around her face, and her bright red lipstick matched the red flower in her dress.
For just a moment, Fran thought how very plain she must look in comparison, with her hair twisted in a tight roll on the back of her head and her dark green dress without the first adornment. But then she didn’t care. She didn’t want to compete with Cecelia. Fran might harbor some regret for their lost future, but Seth had made his choice. What Fran had hoped for them was lost months ago when Seth threw away her love. She had no intention of chasing after it.
Unfortunately, her mother wasn’t ready to give up so easily. After the preacher said the final amen, Fran’s mother delayed retrieving her purse. Then she dropped a glove in order to exit their pew directly behind Seth and his family. At least she had the good manners to wait until they were out of the church before she grabbed Fran’s elbow and rushed after Seth.
“Seth,” her mother called as they went down the steps. “Look who’s home.”
Fran wished for a way to escape what would surely be an awkward meeting. Not that Fran couldn’t handle it. She had just ushered an unexpected twin into the world. She had stitched up a man’s leg after his knife slipped while he was cleaning fish. She had wormed children and treated consumption. She had kept a boy from bleeding to death in the back of a truck. If she could do all that and more, she could look Seth Miller in the face without shrinking back.
“Hello, Seth. So good to see you home.” She had no trouble looking him in the eye and saying that. She was glad Seth had made it home from the war.
“Francine. I heard you were visiting your mother.” Seth gave Fran the once-over. “It’s been a while.”
“Yes, it has.” Fran shifted her eyes to the woman clinging to Seth’s arm and held out a hand toward her. “And you must be Cecelia. Seth’s sister showed me your picture before I went to the mountains, but it’s good to meet you in person.”
“Yes.” The woman barely brushed her fingertips across Fran’s hand. Perhaps English women thought it wasn’t ladylike to shake hands. Perhaps it wasn’t. She had a lovely English accent. “I’ve heard so much about you. Everyone considers you very brave to go off to become a frontier nurse.”
“Not brave at all.” Fran pulled her hand back. “Actually some of the nurse-midwives are from your home country. England.”
“Oh really. How interesting.” She didn’t sound interested at all.
“Well, nice seeing you, Seth, and good to meet you, Cecelia.” Her mother was still chatting with Seth’s parents, but Fran eased past them with a wave to follow Harold, who had walked on toward the parking area. She didn’t look back.
Then Seth was calling out for her to wait. When she glanced around, he was pushing past the people on the walkway and hurrying after her. For what reason, she couldn’t imagine. But she waited for him. Cecelia didn’t come with him.
“Francine.” He was panting a little when he caught up with her. “What’s your rush? Can’t you spare a few minutes for an old friend?”
“Of course.” Francine kept a smile on her face. “So what are you doing since you got home from the service, old friend?” Those last two words had a bitter feel and she wished them back. But words said couldn’t be retrieved.
Seth flinched. “I guess I deserved that.”
Fran breathed out and let her smile slide off her face. “Look, Seth, we are old friends who have no reason to play games. You made your choice. And she’s lovely. I wish you and Cecelia every happiness.”
“You’ve changed.” Seth moved closer to her. A little too close.
Fran stepped back. “It’s been almost four years. We’re not the kids fresh out of school that we were when you joined the army.”
Funny how he wasn’t as tall as she remembered. Maybe it was the shorter hair. But he had added muscle in his arms and shoulders. His light brown eyes were different too. More serious now than when he was a boy and always ready to pull a prank or tell a joke. Maybe that was all the talk of marriage had ever been to him. A joke. If so, she had been too ready to fall for it.
“I appreciated all your letters,” he said. “They kept me from being so homesick when I first went over.”
“That’s good.” Fran cringed to think about some of the things she’d written in those letters about their plans when he got home. Her plans anyway. “My part of the war effort, I guess.” She started walking toward her stepfather’s car again. Seth fell in beside her.
“Yeah.” He reached over and touched her hand. “Look, Francine, I don’t blame you for thinking I’m a bum, but I really didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s just, I met Cecelia and, well, she was there and you were here and, well, you understand.”
“Sure.” Fran understood plenty, but sometimes it was best to take the high road. She let him off the hook. “My grandmother used to tell me things happen for a reason, and that’s what the people at the Frontier Nursing Service say too. That nobody comes there by accident. So it all turned out for the best.”
“Do you like it down there in the hills?” Seth frowned a little. “Your mother keeps talking about how awful it is. She says she expects to hear you’ve been shot or worse any day.”
“Worse than shot?” Fran raised her eyebrows at him.
“Well, you know, with the sort of men in those hills.” He shrugged a little. “Moonshiners and all sorts of reprobates.”
“There are some moonshiners for sure, but all the men, all the people treat us with the utmost respect.”
“I guess your mother was relieved to hear that.”
“She doesn’t much like to hear anything about the mountains, but it’s a beautiful place and the people are so true.”
“True? What does that mean?” Seth gave her a puzzled look.
Fran thought a minute before she answered. “It’s hard to explain to somebody who has never been there. But the way they live is tied somehow to the mountains. Growing their food or gleaning it off the land. They don’t have much money, but they have things that matter more. Like family and roots. Some of their farms have been passed down for generations. They all work to survive, and each new baby is a gift, even if they already have a houseful of children.”
“The mountain kids in the pictures in magazines look pretty ragged and dirty.” Seth made a face.
“Baths aren’t as easy to come by when you have to carry water from the creek or spring instead of turning a tap. And those photographers don’t give the children time to run wash their faces or hands when they find them playing out in the dirt.”
“You sound impassioned.”
“I guess I do.” Fran swept a stray strand of hair out of her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to preach at you.”
“No, no. Impassioned is a great look for you. Intense and beautiful.”
Fran shot a quick look over at him to see if he was making fun of her, but he was studying her with serious eyes.
“There’s a difference between pretty and beautiful. Did you know that?” he said.
“I’ve never really thought about it.” At least she hadn’t for a long time. She’d never felt she qualified for either description. But then Betty had talked about her being pretty. And just last week, Ben Locke had walked to the creek with her and let his gaze settle on her, as though she wasn’t a bit hard on the eyes.
Now Seth was looking at her as though she were someone he’d never seen instead of the girl he’d dated all through high school. Fran wasn’t sure she liked it. Not with his intended staring at them across the street. It was time to end this old friends’ talk.
“I’m glad you’re doing so well, Seth.” Thank goodness, Harold’s car was right in front of her and her mother was finally coming toward the parking lot. “I hope you and Cecelia will be very happy.”
Then before her mother got close enough to stir up who knew what, Fran opened the car door and climbed into the back seat. She gave Seth a little wave before she closed the door and sat back with relief. A dozen memories poked her as she watched Seth turn away. School dances. Movies. Ball games. They had been so young and she’d had such dreams.
She gingerly peeked back at some of those dreams. She’d truly thought she would marry Seth and have his children.
“That your old boyfriend your mother keeps talking about?” Harold twisted around to look at Fran.
Fran was surprised. The man had rarely spoken to her since she’d been there. Perhaps that was because of her mother chattering nonstop. “Yes. We dated in high school.”
“Your mother said you planned to get married.”
“Sometimes plans go awry. I think most of the planning must have been my doing and not his. We were just kids.”
“You’re still a kid.” Harold turned to peer out the window. “Where is that woman?”
“She’s coming.”
Her mother had stopped to talk to Seth, but now she was heading on toward the car. She didn’t look happy.
Harold obviously thought the same. He ran his hands around the steering wheel. “Uh-oh. Get your ears ready. She looks like she has plenty to say.”
Fran sighed. “Don’t worry. I’ve heard it all before.”
Harold chuckled. “Believe me. So have I. So have I. But she’s generally satisfied if you just mumble something and nod now and again.”
Fran laughed. “Thanks. Not sure that will work for me, but I might give it a try.”
Harold got out and hurried around the car to open the door for Fran’s mother. She’d barely settled in the seat before she twisted around to glare at Fran. “What in the world, Francine? The man trailed after you wanting to talk and you jump in the car and slam the door in his face. What is the matter with you?”
“We talked, Mother. And then I thought Harold was probably ready for lunch.”
Harold clambered back in the car and shifted it into gear. “Lunch does sound good.”
“Are you two teaming up against me?” Fran’s mother shot a look toward Harold. “I wouldn’t advise that.”
“Not teaming up at all, Charlotte. Aren’t you hungry? How about we take Francine out for lunch today?”
“That’s fine. If you can find a decent restaurant open on Sunday.” She seemed to have lost her irritation with Harold, but she wasn’t so easily distracted from her upset at Fran. “Are you trying to throw away your chances with Seth?”
“Mother, Seth is engaged to Cecelia.”
“I haven’t seen a ring on her finger.” Fran’s mother raised her eyebrows. “I sense trouble in paradise there.”
“If so, that trouble isn’t coming from me. Nor should it come from you. Seth and I are old high school friends. Nothing more. His choice, but a choice I’m quite content with now.” Fran kept her voice level and firm.
“Humph.” Fran’s mother turned around in her seat to stare forward. “You never have known what’s best for you. I suppose you plan to head back to those hills where people don’t even have running water.”
“They have lots of running water. All in creeks and rivers.” Fran should have kept quiet, but she was wishing she was in sight of some of those creeks and rivers now instead of facing a long afternoon listening to her mother.
“Don’t be smart with me, Francine Elizabeth. You knew what I meant.” She looked back at Fran again. “I can’t believe you’re that eager to go back there.”
“I love what I do, Mother. Catching babies.”
“What a peculiar way to talk about delivering babies.” Fran’s mother shook her head and sat back in her seat again. But she didn’t quit talking. “Well, you’ll never have any babies of your own for anybody else to catch. Not as long as you stay there. Because you surely have more sense than to fall for any of those hillbillies. You do, don’t you?”
She didn’t pause long enough for Fran to answer. That was just as well, since Ben Locke’s image popped into Fran’s head. Not that she had fallen for him. That surely wasn’t true. But it had been good walking with him by the creek, and he had given her Sarge. A little smile lifted the corners of her lips. Thank goodness her mother didn’t notice.
“I’ve seen plenty of pictures of those mountain people. Men with coal-dust skin and hungry eyes. And the women. Worn-out looking, with a dozen kids hanging on to them. None of them smiling. Ever. And I guess not. What would they have to smile about?”
Fran stayed silent as her mother chattered on. She didn’t know about the mountains or the people. But Fran did know, and she wanted to know more. She shut her eyes and let her mother’s words slide past her, mumbling an agreeable answer now and again. Harold was right. That was all she needed to do.
But come morning, Fran would be on the train and then the bus heading home. What was it people said? Home is where the heart is. Her eyes were anxious to see the mountains rising up in front of her again.