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    War's Unexpected Gift
    War's Unexpected Gift
    War's Unexpected Gift
    Ebook145 pages1 hour

    War's Unexpected Gift

    By Linda Shenton Matchett

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Love and war don't mix. Or do they?

     

    Eager to do even more for the war effort, nurse Gwen Milford puts in for a transfer from a convalescent hospital outside of London to an evac hospital headed across Europe. Leap-frogging from one location to the next, nothing goes as expected from stolen supplies to overwhelming numbers of casualties. Then, there's the handsome doctor who seems to be assigned to her every shift. As another Christmas approaches without the war's end, can she find room in her heart for love?

     

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLinda Shenton Matchett
    Release dateMay 25, 2024
    ISBN9798224339594
    War's Unexpected Gift
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      Book preview

      War's Unexpected Gift - Linda Shenton Matchett

      Chapter 2

      Frigid briny wind nipped at Rowan Ferguson’s nose and ears as he stood on one of the castle towers and watched the activity in the courtyard. Shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun, he lifted his gaze toward the sea, four miles in the distance. The never-ending breeze tugged at his garrison cap, threatening to pull it off his head. He removed the cap and stuffed it into his pocket. With a shiver, he pulled his coat closer to his body to ward off the chill. Even on a sunny day, there was dampness in the air. He inhaled deeply and smiled. The breeze might be cold, but it was free of the antiseptic, chemical odor that seemed to permeate everything inside the castle-turned-hospital.

      Although Scotland had seen its fair share of bombing raids, the country’s capital city below was unscathed despite being a government and military center. Few people realized that the coastal town of Peterhead was the second-most bombed location in the United Kingdom, with Aberdeen close behind. How long would their luck hold out?

      Footsteps sounded, and Rowan turned to see who was interrupting his precious fifteen-minute break this time. Ah, Private Lincoln, come to enjoy Scotland’s fair weather?

      The red-haired, freckle-faced young man executed a crisp salute. Probably no more than twenty years old, he looked at least five years younger. Um, no, sir. Colonel wants to see you right away.

      Of course he does. Rowan returned the salute, then cast one last glance toward the ocean, before heading back into the recesses of the massive stone structure. And we wouldn’t want to keep him waiting, would we?

      I wouldn’t know, sir.

      Rowan smirked. You’ve got a career in the diplomatic corps, Lincoln.

      Thank you, sir. The boy’s eyes twinkled. But first we’ve got to whup the Germans.

      That we do. Rowan shucked his coat and slung it over one arm. You’re free to go, Private. I can find my way.

      Yes, sir. He loped away, then turned at the next intersection, his booted feet fading.

      Rowan navigated through the labyrinthian maze of stone-lined hallways and stairs before finally arriving at the colonel’s office. A blonde woman, dressed in one of the brown uniforms of the Wrens was seated behind an ornately carved oak table littered with files and stacks of paper. She looked up, then jerked her head toward the closed, gleaming mahogany door. He’s waiting for you.

      I hoofed it as quickly as I could.

      You’re fine. He’s been rather jovial all day.

      Rowan’s eyebrow shot up. Good news for a change?

      Depends on your point of view. She shrugged and shifted her eyes back to her work.

      What wasn’t she telling him? His neck muscles clenched as he turned the brass knob and entered the bedroom-turned-office. Every room in the castle was something-turned-something. He approached the desk, then stopped, saluted, and stood ramrod straight.

      A bull of a man, Colonel Appleton looked every inch the career military officer he was. Despite it being the middle of the afternoon, the man’s uniform looked as fresh as if he’d just donned it. The rainbow of bars on his chest spoke of his success and longevity. The red-white-and-blue-striped Medical Medal given for acts of gallantry and devotion to duty under fire spoke of the man’s bravery. An unlit cigar was clenched between his lips, and his eyes gleamed with intelligence underneath heavy black brows. At ease, Ferguson. He motioned toward a faded upholstered chair that had seen better days. Have a seat.

      Thank you, sir.

      You’ve done wonderful work for us, and we appreciate the Americans loaning you to us, but it’s time for you to rejoin the Yanks. He waved a tissue-like sheet of paper. You’re headed to Belgium. The evac hospital there needs a new chief for lab and pharmacy. Their guy was killed in action.

      A chill swept over Rowan. How long would he last before finding himself in the crosshairs of the enemy?

      Chapter 3

      The inside of the tent was still pitch black when the blaring notes of reveille sounded. Eyes gritty from lack of sleep, Gwen rolled over on the hard ground and groaned. Similar noises emanated from the other girls who’d shared the canvas shelter. Yawning, she sat up and stretched, then felt around in the darkness for her boots. She and the rest of the nursing team had exchanged their skirted uniforms for olive-drab pants and shirts, but the outfits had done little to ease the discomfort of the two-hundred-mile journey through Belgium’s countryside.

      Finally! Her fingers closed around the leather form of one of her boots. More searching with her hands, and she found the other. She pulled back the blanket and shivered. If it had been light, she probably could have seen her breath. As she wrestled her foot into the boot, then donned the other, the glare of a flashlight pierced her eyes. Ouch!

      Sorry. Marion hiked one shoulder. I was sick of floundering in the darkness.

      Gwen waved her hand. I’m sorry, too. Just cranky. My back is killing me. I didn’t expect the Ritz, but so far, the travel accommodations don’t rate any stars in my book.

      The other nurses giggled, and Marion plunked her helmet over her dark curls. I agree and plan to complain to management.

      More laughter as the women rolled up their blankets and prepared to meet the day.

      Trucks are rolling in thirty minutes, ladies. The gruff tones of Sergeant Borman filtered through the canvas walls. The boys need to break down your tent, so no dawdling this morning.

      Judith pushed open the flap that acted as a door. We’re ready now, Sergeant, but thanks for stopping by with the message.

      Tall and wiry, the sergeant jumped back, his face in shadows. Fine. Good. He cleared his throat. No cooking fires. It’s C-rats for breakfast. Before they could reply, he pivoted and disappeared into the darkness.

      Gwen wrinkled her nose. I think he’s actually disappointed we’re ready. He seemed set to give us a reprimand.

      You know if he had his way, we wouldn’t be here. Judith frowned. Although I’d like to see him do our job. He’s got the compassion of a drill sergeant.

      Let’s really annoy him and take down the tent. Marion retrieved her pack and blanket from the ground, then nestled them in her arms. You girls game?

      Absolutely. Gwen scrambled to her feet, collected her personal effects, and ducked outside behind the others. They dumped their stuff nearby, then set about dismantling the tent as they’d seen the men do yesterday morning.

      The first fingers of light had barely begun to streak the night sky, and Gwen stifled another yawn. Good thing she didn’t need visibility to handle the task. Her fingers seemed to move of their own accord as she folded the unwieldy canvas. She grabbed one end, and two of the other girls picked up the bulky roll. She tossed a grin over her shoulder. Ready, ladies. Forward, march.

      Chuckling, the trio made their way to the nearest truck and dropped their burden at Sergeant Borman’s feet. One nurses’ tent, Sergeant. Anything else we can do to get this show on the road?

      He eyed the canvas bundle, then turned an insolent glare on Gwen. Yeah, stay out of the way.

      She tamped down an angry retort and gave him a sugary-sweet smile. As you wish, Sergeant. She whirled and motioned for the other two to follow her. Nothing she could say or do would ever change the man’s attitude. Hopefully, someday he’d get his comeuppance, and she’d be there to see it. Come on, girls. Our work here is done.

      They tramped across the uneven ground, retrieved their items, then headed to the truck that would hold them captive for the remaining two hundred miles of the journey. They tossed their packs onto the floor of the canvas-covered bed of the truck. Gwen nearly snorted a laugh. Bed, right. With its pair of planked benches and wooden floor, torture chamber was a better description. She rubbed her still sore backside.

      Loathe to seat herself before she needed to, she loitered behind the vehicle and watched the activity. The sergeant might be rude and misogynistic, but he knew how to get things done. The tents and associated supplies were stowed in less than twenty minutes. One by one, the engines roared to life as drivers crawled behind the wheels. Gwen swallowed a sigh, then gripped the bumper, and hoisted herself into the bed. She moved to the farthest point and dropped onto the seat, then winced. She rose and tucked her pack underneath herself. Better, but nothing like the supple leather seats of the Oldsmobile she’d left at home.

      Home. Would she live to see the gray-shrouded Smoky Mountains? Please God, let it be so.

      Weary to the bone, Rowan crawled out of the jeep, his muscles protesting with every move. A dozen or so miles out of Eupen, he’d caught up to the convoy of vehicles lumbering toward the city. Apparently, it had been too much to hope the hospital would have already been set up. Colonel Appleton’s intel that a final location had not been determined was correct after all.

      Rowan brushed the layer of dirt from his clothes, then removed his cap and slapped it against this thigh. A cloud of dust rose, and he grimaced as he clapped the cap back onto his head. Mouth dry, he grabbed his canteen and guzzled as he surveyed the surrounding countryside.

      Trees. Everywhere he looked. With any luck, there were buildings the unit could take over rather than have to hack out a section of forest and use tents. Located a mere nine miles from

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