Chapter Seventy-Seven

Soft music was playing from somewhere… Mac followed the sound. He could hear her voice… sweet and pure, singing along softly. She had the voice of an angel. It haunted his very dreams. And it was one of the greatest blessings she had given him. In the tortured nightmares left over from the war, he now heard her sweet voice singing, every night. But when he was awake, it was even more beautiful.

He found her where he had expected to find her… in the rec room of the hospital, surrounded by patients. They sat in silence, enraptured by her voice and the graceful movements she made as she sang… almost like dancing. 

“Green eyes," she sang. “make my dreams come true…” 

She caught Mac’s eyes over the heads of the audience as he stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, crossing his arms and smiling at her. Green eyes, eh? Did she realize his eyes were green?

“Green eyes with their soft lights, and eyes that promise sweet nights...” the song went on and she looked away from him, avoiding his steady gaze. He was grinning irrepressibly now, thrilled by the subject of her song. He had heard it before but... never this beautiful. 

"Green eyes..." she sang the last words of the song with her own eyes pinned on the ground, as if fascinated by her shoes. "Green eyes... I love you."

Maybe it was just a coincidence... but he couldn't help taking it as a sign. It had been a long, long time since he had proposed... and they had been such good friends since. Maybe... just maybe... this was his second chance. 

He caught up with her later that evening as she left the rec room. Her long shift finally over, with the added hours that she gave cheerfully, she was on her way back to her lonely little room. She stopped as he called her name, turning to smile at him. 

“You were beautiful tonight, Lintie,” he spoke earnestly as he moved towards her. “I could listen to you sing forever.”

“If I did that, I’d go hoarse,” she laughed softly, slipping her arm through his. "Where are we going?”

He smiled. Without even waiting for him to say anything, she had assumed he wanted to be with her and she had accepted. Surely that was a good sign.

“Walk with me in the courtyard?” 

It was both a pleasantly and unusually warm evening for so very early in the spring. Just a few short days ago, patches of snow had dotted the ground, but now they could barely be seen. The sun was just now setting and twilight spread velvety-purple darkness over the landscape. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as they walked, the delicate lines of her face seeming to glow in the evening light. Wisps of hair had escaped her scarf, blowing softly in the wind, and he stopped to reach out and brush it from her eyes. 

“Did you know you dance when you sing?” he grinned and she laughed.

“Do I?” she stepped back and spun in a pirouette. “The music is so beautiful, sometimes I just can’t help it.” She was dancing now to music only she could hear, movements so graceful and light she seemed a part of the twilight. She paused then, holding out her hand. “Dance with me.”

“I can’t,” he raised his eyebrows at her. “Did you forget?” he rapped his knuckles on his wooden leg for emphasis. 

“Oh, that,” she tossed her head. “It’s nothing. Anyone can dance. Just follow me.” She took his hand in hers, placing her other hand on his shoulder. He drew in his breath at her touch, staring down at her as if transfixed. 

“It’s easy,” she continued, matter-of-factly. “Put your other hand on my waist, there, and then we just step like this… and this… don’t worry about being stiff, you’ll get the hang of it. Very good exercise, y’know. It’s really a sort of therapy.”

He didn’t hear a word she was saying. He was looking deep into her golden-brown eyes, suddenly more terrified than he ever had been in his life. Terrified… of losing her. 

“Lintie…” he breathed. “Please…”

“Please what?” she queried, grinning. She didn’t know… she didn’t understand… “I’m not smuggling you any more chocolate, so don’t even try asking…”

“No… Lintie…” he stopped abruptly, pulling his hands away from her. She looked hard at him, a strange expression crossing her face. The grin she was wearing slowly faded into consternation. 

“Mac…” the tone of her voice told him that she did understand. She drew back and he stepped closer, wanting to pull her into his arms and kiss her... but he held back. “Not again, Mac, please don’t.”

“I can’t help it, Lintie,” the tone of his voice was pleading. “I love you.” 

Her eyes were filling with tears. 

“Maybe… Mac… it would be better if…” she stammered, struggling to find the words she needed. “If we don’t spend so much time together.”

If she had plunged a knife into his heart, it hardly could have hurt worse. He couldn’t take it a moment longer. Forgetting his promise to himself to be careful around her, to not move too quickly lest he frighten her off, he bent down and kissed her.

This time, she was angry. He never even saw it coming, felt the sting of her hand across his face before he realized what was happening. He stared at her in shock, frozen in marble stillness. She covered her mouth, barely stifling a gasp. She seemed just as surprised as he was. 

“Oh... Mac… I’m so sorry…” her tears spilled over, this time, with remorse. She reached up to his face and he resisted the urge to shy away. She didn’t slap him again, only laid her hand gently against his cheek as if to erase what she had done. He couldn’t understand why she was acting this way. Seeming to like him one moment, hating him the next, and then liking him all over again… it didn’t make any sense at all. 

“Doesn’t matter,” he mumbled, dropping his gaze. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” his voice trailed away.

“I can’t give you what you want, Mac,” she spoke in a low voice, her eyes on the ground again. “I can’t marry you. Not now... not ever..”

He groaned… the heart-wrenching cry of a broken man.

“But why? Why, Lintie?”

“I don’t know how to explain it,” her voice sounded almost panicky and she bit her lip, trying to blink her tears away. “I just… I’ve loved before. And I… I lost him. And I just… I can’t make myself love again. I wish you’d move on, Mac. Find someone who deserves you. It… it’s not you… it’s me. My fault. I should stay away.”

“Don’t.” he murmured, desperate to keep at least her friendship. He knew if he lost her completely, he’d die inside. “We can still be friends.”

She stood silent for a long moment, not looking at him. The sky was completely dark now and the constant traffic in the courtyard was beginning to slow. She glanced over her shoulder toward the building she shared with dozens of other nurses and sighed. It was getting late and she was tired.

“Of course we can be friends,” she smiled sadly. “I’m glad to know you, Mac Scott.” And she turned to walk away, leaving him standing alone in the courtyard with his broken heart.

She returned to her room in silence, ignoring the chatter of the other girls as they called out to her.

"Hey Katie. Saw you with that soldier again… the handsome one, with the wooden leg. Is it getting serious?"

"Course it's serious, Nancy," another girl laughed when Katie didn't answer. "I saw him kiss her."

"A good-looking couple," Nancy grinned. "You should know, Katie, that we're all ragingly jealous of you. He's the handsomest soldier I've ever seen, and that's saying a lot. Where're ya going, Katie?"

Katie sank down on her little cot, pulling a little box from the drawer in the table beside her. She opened it carefully, paging lovingly through the letters inside. The one on top she had left there purposely… it was Ronnie's last letter. It was there with Jerry's last. She lifted both out, pressing them gently against her heart as tears trickled down her cheeks. She had lost two of the most important people in her life, one never to return, the other vanished and probably dead. 

Beneath the letters lay a photograph, clipped from a newspaper. It was a picture of her and Mac, in an article about the amputees from Omaha. It had been taken during therapy… he stood leaning on her, her arm around his waist to support him, his right pants leg rolled up to reveal the prothesis. He was grinning irrepressibly and she couldn't help but smile every time she saw that picture. She picked it up and pressed her lips to the paper.

"I'm sorry, Mac," she whispered. "I want to love you. I really do. You're one of the best men I've ever known. But… I'm too afraid… to let myself love again."

She knew it was foolish. He was crippled… he couldn't go off to war again to be shot at and killed. There really wasn't anything to be afraid of. She couldn't understand it. Maybe it was the memory of Jerry that was holding her back. In frustration she rummaged out pen and paper, scribbling out words furiously as her mind ran wild with thoughts of anger, sorrow, and confusion.

Dearest of Emmas,

Wishing so desperately you were here… I need you, need to talk to you, need to cry with you.

Mac tried to ask me again tonight… but I stopped him. I don't know what's wrong with me… sometimes I think I might love him, but mostly, I'm just afraid. And I miss Jerry… you have no idea how it hurts. I don't know what to do… help me, please, Em… I just want someone to tell me what to do…

I'm suddenly wishing I let him finish asking… almost wishing I said yes. What if he never asks me again? What would I do without him, Emma? I want him… I need him… I love him…

Katie stopped abruptly, pen poised above the paper as she stared at the words she had written. Somewhere between those last two paragraphs, something had changed. She dropped the pen, burying her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with sobs. She knew it now… beyond the shadow of a doubt. She loved Mac Scott with all her heart and soul and she couldn't live without him.

But she had rejected him… twice… and what would she do now? Would she ever get a third chance?