Two days before Meghan’s contract ended, she stood in the dining room, tears streaming down her face, reading the headline of the Desert Star. Caleb stood beside her as people cried and hugged and yelled.
The Armistice had been signed. The war was over. Lars would come home. Derek would return to Natalie and his family to await the birth of their baby. All of America’s doughboys would come home.
Harvey Girl rules notwithstanding, Meghan dropped the paper and flung herself into Caleb’s arms. “It’s over. It’s over. It’s over,” she chanted happily into his ear, squeezing his neck.
He held her tight as chaos reigned around them. Mrs. Gregory sat at a table and openly sobbed. Word had come the day after the auction that her son would recover from his wounds, but he had lost his right arm below the elbow. Broken, the head waitress had apologized to Meghan and Caleb, developing a whole new respect for what Caleb endured every day.
Joshua burst into the dining room. “Did you hear? Did you hear?”
“Yes. Isn’t it wonderful?” Meghan reached out and drew Joshua into their hug.
“It won’t change any of our plans, will it?” he asked when he’d extricated himself. “We’re still going to Minnesota, right?”
“Right. On the Saturday afternoon train. You, Caleb, Doc Bates, and me. You’re going to love Minnesota. I wish we were going in the springtime, but you’ll get to see snow.”
“I can’t wait. I still can’t believe he got me into college. Who would’ve guessed that Doc Bates had gone to medical school with Charlie Mayo?”
“Doc’s going to miss you when he comes back here. He says you’re underfoot all the time asking questions and trying to learn everything before you even start school.”
Joshua grinned, so confident and excited, no longer the hunch-shouldered, resentful, haunted boy he’d been when Meghan first met him. His parents had given their consent to his leaving with them, and his father had even managed a rough hug of good-bye.
“Well, since you delivered the last batch of horses to the train, there hasn’t been anything to do at the ranch.” Joshua shrugged. “I’m going to go find Doc. He’s probably heard the news by now.”
That evening, Meghan and Caleb walked beside the fountain in the open-air lobby, holding hands. “It’s going to be a long road ahead, isn’t it? The world is going to have to find its way back to peace.”
Caleb nodded. “But we’ll do it. Time will heal the wounds, dull the hurt.” They walked slowly to the musical accompaniment of the splashing water and the clink of Caleb’s leg brace. He didn’t wear it all the time, but by day’s end, he usually had it on. She never mentioned it unless he did, still finding her way with how much he wanted to share about his leg and how he was feeling about it. Time would help with that, too.
“I’m just glad it’s all over. Healing can’t start until the fighting ends.”
“That was certainly true for us, wasn’t it? You’re a little firebrand when you get riled up.” He brushed his fingers along her temple, his eyes soft.
“Papa would say it was my Celtic heritage that makes me volatile, and Mama says it’s my Viking blood.”
He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her hair. “Whatever it is, I’m glad it’s mine.”
“Me too, Caleb. Me too.”