Chapters 1-3
�Mother! Mother! Where are you?�
The woman put aside the letter she was writing and stepped into the hall from her sitting room.
�Mother!� The quiet was shattered again by the loud call.
She closed her eyes and thought it would be nice if she could close her ears instead. �Victoria, must you start calling for me the moment you come in the front door? You know you can find me upstairs in my sitting room at this time of day.�
The younger woman paused halfway up the stairs, her face splitting into a wide grin. �There you are!�
�I believe I just said that,� the woman replied patiently. �Please lower your voice.�
Victoria Emerson advanced to the top of the stairs, and, enveloping her mother in an enthusiastic embrace, kissed both cheeks. �Just wait until you hear my news!�
�It will keep until you change. You smell of the stable.�
�I�ve been riding Star all afternoon.�
�Then go make yourself presentable while I make some tea and bring it into the library.�
�Oh, Mother, sometimes you can be so�so�so old-fashioned!�
�Thank you, Victoria, I consider that a compliment. Go.�
Katherine Wardell Emerson watched affectionately as her daughter strode down the wide hall and disappeared into her own room. Victoria was so much like she had been�eager, energetic, boundlessly enthusiastic about each small detail of her life. And now she�Katherine�was becoming more and more like her own Mother, insistent on the conventionalities of life. She chuckled as she went downstairs to the kitchen.
The kitchen had been remodeled in the early twenties, but it could do with another update, Katherine reflected as she took out the fragile cups and saucers that her mother always used to serve tea in the afternoons. They were white with a silver rim and small blue flowers the color of Mother�s eyes. Katherine set the kettle on the stove and turned on the gas. As a child, she had often inspected her own eyes to see if maybe�just maybe�they were turning blue like her mother�s, but they had remained what Papa called sea foam green. Once, many years ago, she had looked into eyes the same color and finally understood that genetics was stronger than wishes.
* * * * * * * *
�Now, tell me your news.�
Vicky, freshly bathed and wearing a dress instead of the ancient and disreputable jodhpurs which she steadfastly refused to abandon, accepted the cup of tea from her mother.
�Thank you, Mother.�
�You�re welcome. Your news, dear?�
Vicky�s face lighted up as if someone had thrown a switch behind it. �Charley�s coming home on leave for Christmas! He�ll be here until after New Year�s!�
�That�s wonderful, darling! I know his parents must be thrilled, too!�
�I stopped by on the way home�they�d just had a letter. He said that he was writing to me, too, but I guess it hasn�t come yet.�
�He�s been gone a long time.�
�Fourteen months! Honestly, thinking of him strolling the beaches in Hawaii with some of those Navy nurses just makes me boil!�
�Do you know that he does?� Katherine suppressed a smile.
�No, but I can imagine�he�s so good-looking, Mother! They�re bound to invite him to all their parties.�
�I should think there wouldn�t be that much time for parties on a Naval base.�
�Charley says it�s deadly dull. They don�t even go on alert anymore. There�s not going to be a war, no matter what they�re saying in Washington!�
�People said that twenty years ago, Vicky. They put on blinders until our boys marched off to sail for France.� She could have added�but didn�t�that President Wilson had said of the treaty that ended that war, �This is not a peace�it is a truce for twenty years.� It was beginning to look as if he�d been right.
�Europe is always fighting,� Vicky said, helping herself to another thin butter cookie�her grandmother�s recipe. She�d never known her grandmother, but sometimes she felt she knew her. Mother was always quoting her, and so many things in the house had belonged to her.
�There have always been wars somewhere,� Katherine said.
�Are John and Rosalie and the children coming home this year?�
�I have no idea. Rosalie�s letter last week said that we might want to consider coming to San Antonio instead.�
�Oh, but Mother, I love Christmas at home!�
�I never spent a single Christmas in this house until your father and I were married. My parents and I always went to California to the ranch.�
�I�ve heard the story,� Vicky said impatiently.
�Wherever we�re together is the place to be at Christmas. You�re twenty-two years old, Vicky. Don�t sulk.�
�I�m not sulking! But if Charley�s here, and we�re there. . .�
�I see what you mean. Well, it�s only the sixth of December. We�ll work something out.�
�Do you miss going to the ranch?�
�I go every summer.�
�I mean at Christmas.�
�Not really. Everyone�s gone now�there are two new generations. I can hardly keep up with all of them.�
Vicky regarded her mother thoughtfully. �But it was special then, wasn�t it? I mean, not just Christmas but your birthday.�
�I think I�m finished with birthdays, thank you.�
�Now, Mother�sixty-one is hardly an advanced age!�
�I suppose not. My parents weren�t much younger when they took me.� She shook her head. �It�s funny, but I never thought of them as old. They were just my parents. I wish you�d known them, Vicky. I wish you�d known your own father. They were three of the most wonderful people in the world.�
�Sometimes I�m jealous of John because he knew our father. He was nine, so he has a lot of memories.�
�He was Teddy�s shadow everywhere.� Katherine thought of the small blonde boy keeping step with the tall blonde man in the hospital corridors. Brought your assistant today, I see, someone would inevitably call out, and Teddy would reply, I might need a consultation.
�John even looks like him.�
Katherine nodded. �He does indeed. And you look like me.�
�Mother, when Charley and I get married, will you be lonely here?�
�In this house? Of course not!�
�Memories aren�t particularly warm companions.�
�Mine are. Besides, I spend at least half my time at the hospital or teaching at the medical school. I�m not ready to retire yet. And you don�t have to wait until you and Charley get married before you move out on your own. Many young women have their own apartments these days. You don�t have to stay here because you�re worried about leaving me alone.�
Vicky dropped her eyes. �I guess�I guess I�m not ready�not just yet.�
�When you are, I�ll help you pack.�
�Mother!�
Katherine laughed. �I�m teasing you, Vicky.� She rose and picked up the tea tray. �What are your plans for tonight?�
�It�s Saturday� so I�m going to wash my hair, do my nails, and press a dress for church tomorrow, I suppose. And write to Charley, though he may not have time to get it before he goes on leave. Do you have to go back to the hospital?�
�I have a patient I want to check on. Suppose you meet me there at six-thirty, and we�ll go to dinner somewhere.�
�We need to find another housekeeper,� Vicky said firmly.
�Or you need to practice your kitchen skills,� her mother replied. �Six-thirty at the main entrance�all right? Now I�m going upstairs to finish the letter I was writing before I have to leave.�
* * * * * * * *
Katherine read what she�d written before being interrupted.
Dear Trevor,
It�s almost Christmas again, and I always think of the ranch at this time of year. Mother began preparations for our trip just after Thanksgiving, but I think I began to get excited by Halloween!
The day the trunks were brought from the attic was like a holiday to Katherine when she was a little girl. She loved helping Mother carry clothes from the bureaus, matching hats and gloves and shoes to each garment, discussing where and when each would be worn. She had her own much smaller trunk and a miniature one for her latest doll and its wardrobe. That one wasn�t checked, of course, but Papa always wrote out a tag for it and gave her a duplicate which she tucked into her own tiny purse. �Now, Kate precious, always take particular care of your baggage checks. You can�t claim your things without them.� And he�d make her produce that tag before she was allowed to open her doll trunk. Mother said it was good training�and, in truth, it had been.
They�d taught her so many things under the guise of make-believe and let�s-pretend. She understood now that, because they were so much older, they knew all too well that they might not be around until she was grown up and on her own. They�d prepared her to go on with her life without them, to be self-sufficient and independent. They�d done their job well.
She picked up her pen. Vicky has just told me that Charley will be home from Hawaii for Christmas. He�s been in Hawaii at some place called Pearl Harbor for fourteen months, and she�s missed him dreadfully. They�ve grown up together and taken it for granted that they�d spend their entire lives together. It will be a good marriage�they�re so suited to one another. They�ll be best friends as well as lovers.
Rosalie writes that, with all the talk of war, John may have to remain near the base. If so, we�ll go to San Antonio for Christmas. Of course, that presents a problem for Vicky and Charley, but I can send her back the day after Christmas if I decide to stay on. Jack and little Teddy are growing so fast, and I see them so seldom that I hate to miss a single moment with them.
I think there will be a war, Trevor, and it frightens me. John is an officer and young enough to be sent overseas. Your boys are already waiting on the draft. And Nick�s, Heath�s, and Gene�s grandsons are old enough to go, too. Papa used to say that war is such a dirty business�he never understood why anyone could think there was any glory attached to blowing men�s bodies apart.
Isn�t it odd, though, that there are still casualties of war that have nothing to do with fighting? My Teddy was too old to be drafted in the last war, and he was needed here anyway with so many of the younger doctors enlisting. But he fought a war anyway with the influenza epidemic�and it finally killed him.
Vicky was just saying this afternoon that she was jealous of John for having known Teddy. It is certainly a terrible coincidence that, after hoping and praying for almost nine years to have a second child, I finally conceived Vicky just days before Teddy sickened and died. He never even knew about her. But she was my salvation, I think. When I learned that I was pregnant again, I had to hurry up with my grieving and get on with life.
Well, Trevor, I have a patient I must see this afternoon�she had surgery this morning, and I want to look in on her. I spoke with the surgeon immediately afterward, and he said everything went well. Still, I�ve been her doctor for twenty years, and she�ll want to see me.
Do write me all the news of your family and of the ranch. Kiss as many of the children as you can grab on Christmas Day�I keep a list of them�I have to! The Barkleys are a prolific clan! My love to you and to Ruth and Tom and Nicky as well.
KatieBee
She folded, sealed, and stamped the letter and put it into her purse. Then she selected a starched white lab coat from her closet and slipped it on. From the closet by the front door she took her overcoat�Mother would have said it was too masculine, but it fit over her hospital coat perfectly�and went out to the car.
The sky was heavy�as if it might snow. Perhaps it would wait until Christmas. Tomorrow she would write to Rosalie and tell her about Charley. Then she would see if she could get a compartment on the train at this late date. She would buy Vicky�s return ticket for the twenty-sixth, and Vicky could stay with Charley�s family until New Year�s. Things would fall into place. Mother always said that planning ahead was the secret.
Katherine turned the key in the ignition and backed carefully from beneath the portico.
Chapter 2
As was her custom, Vicky brought breakfast to her mother�s sitting room on Sunday morning. When her parents married, they had moved into the suite of rooms formerly occupied by Royce and Victoria Wardell. After John was born, he was given the bedroom across the hall. Nine years later, Anne Victoria was placed in a lacy bassinet in her mother�s girlhood room. She still used the bird�s eye maple furniture, but her taste ran to pink instead of blue.
Katherine sat in a chair by the window reading the newspaper retrieved earlier from the front porch before her daughter arose. She didn�t know why she bothered reading it at all�there was no good news anymore, and she suspected there wouldn�t be for a long time to come. Now she put the paper aside and sniffed the air appreciatively. �Banana bread?�
�My specialty.� Vicky set the tray down on a low table and poured coffee for the two of them.
�This is an occasion then.�
Vicky curled up on the loveseat. �I thought about Charley all the time I was baking it. When we�re married, I�m going to bring him breakfast in bed every Sunday morning!�
�With a little perseverance, you could train him to bring your breakfast.�
�Oh, Mother!�
�Your father did that for me.�
Vicky leaned forward a little. �Did he really?�
�He really did. It was a special time for just the two of us. Later, John would come in and have his breakfast, and Teddy would read the comics aloud to him before we got ready for church.�
Vicky chewed her lower lip. �Do you still miss him, Mother?�
Katherine smiled. �Every minute of every hour of every day of my life.�
�Why did you never remarry?�
�I never fell in love again.�
�It wasn�t because of John or me?�
�Absolutely not. My parents had both been married before�very good marriages�and theirs was especially happy. I would have remarried if I�d met the right person.�
�You�re not too old.�
�I�m not too interested either.� Katherine laughed at her daughter�s expression. �Are you trying to get rid of me?�
�No, of course not.�
�If you�re seriously concerned about leaving me alone when you get married, don�t be. That shouldn�t even enter your mind.�
�When John married, you had me.�
�And when you marry, I�ll get a dog�or a cat.�
�Mother!�
�A lover?�
�Mother, stop it!�
�I thought we�d drive out to the country after church and see if the Ellistons still have walnuts. I want to take some to Rosalie.�
�That sounds all right. We�re really going to San Antonio then?�
�I checked to see if we could still get a compartment, and we can. So as soon as you know whether or not you can get some time off from the library, I�ll reserve it. Tomorrow if possible.�
�I�ll ask as soon as I go in. I haven�t taken any days in a long time, and you said I could come back on the twenty-sixth. Besides, the library will close down on the twenty-third anyway.�
�That�s right, but I think I�ll stay on until New Year�s. I don�t get to spend much time with my grandsons.�
�You spoil them dreadfully, you know.�
�Why, Vicky, I don�t!�
�Rosalie looks the other way�she can afford to for a few days.�
�You are a wicked child. Go get ready for church so you can ask forgiveness for your sinful ways.�
The two women laughed together companionably. They�d always been close. Vicky had grown up with only one parent, and her mother had all her loyalty.
* * * * * * * *
The spirit of Christmas had fully possessed them as they left the church and drove toward the Elliston�s farm. They tried harmonizing on Jingle Bells but dissolved into laughter�just carrying a tune was the best either of them could do. John, on the other hand, had inherited his father�s pleasant baritone and had performed with the glee club through high school. At West Point, he sang in the chapel choir.
The skies above Nashville had cleared during the night, so the day�though cold� was sunny. Katherine and Vicky discussed whether or not to decorate a Christmas tree since they would be spending the holidays away from home and decided that wreaths in the front windows and on the door would suffice. Vicky knew the facts of her mother�s birth, but she�d never heard the story of the holly wreaths at Christmas in 1908, so Katherine told it now.
�You never knew Annie,� Vicky mused, �yet you named me for her.� It was not the first time she�d wondered about her mother�s motivation.
�As Will Trowbridge said, Annie gave me breath, and my parents gave me life. It seemed fitting for you to be named for the two women responsible for my existence.�
�I like Uncle Will and Aunt Elizabeth. They were so nice to come clear across the country when I graduated college.�
�He�s always felt he�s had a least a spectator�s role in my life�so of course, he�d feel a bond with you.�
�I�ll be sure to invite them to my wedding.�
�And they�ll be sure to come it they�re able, I know.�
Vicky slowed the car and negotiated the sharp turn into the farm gate with precision. As they parked in front of the house, Patricia Elliston came flying out the door without even a sweater. She waved her hands frantically at them. Katherine rolled down her window hurriedly.
�Oh, Katherine, it�s horrible! I can�t believe it!�
Vicky leaned across her mother. �What can�t you believe, Mrs. Elliston?�
Tears welled up in Patricia�s eyes. �The Japanese! They�ve bombed Pearl Harbor! Thousands of our boys are dead!�
* * * * * * * *
It was a somber holiday season for thousands of American families, the Gills and the Emersons included. Katherine and Vicky remained in Nashville, awaiting any word about the ultimate fate of Lieutenant (J.G.) Charles Gill of the U.S.S. Arizona.
While Vicky remained hopeful, the Gills seemed resigned to the fact that their son was one of the men who had gone to their final resting place still trapped below the decks of the great ship. John, who had managed to get a seventy-two hour leave to travel to Nashville, supported his sister�s optimism as he had always done, but he confided privately to his mother that Charley�s chances grew slimmer everyday.
Finally, on the last day of January, the official telegram was delivered to the Gill home. Missing and presumed dead. Hope, as well as Charley Gill, perished with those four words. Vicky remained outwardly stoic, but Katherine often stood outside her daughter�s door at night and listened to her sob herself to sleep.
She remembered only too clearly how it was�how it felt to lose the person with whom you expected to grow old. She had wept until there were no tears left and considered that her life was truly over. Vicky was already moving inside her before she could think of Teddy without bursting into tears. Yet she�d gone on, and Vicky would, too.
In the aftermath of World War One had come the deadly influenza epidemic that swept the country. Early on it had taken Jarrod�already weakened by age and a second stroke. Teddy insisted that Katherine go to Stockton to bid him goodbye. Reluctantly, she allowed him to assume the care of her patients�a reduced number due to her teaching responsibilities�and had taken nine-year-old John with her on the sad journey.
It had been a short, heart-breaking trip. Jarrod hardly looked like himself, and she could barely bring herself to do more than glance into the open casket. But worse even than his death was the realization that the rest of her siblings were getting old. For the first time she had to accept the fact that the rest of her beloved family would likely be gone before John was grown.
The day before she left Stockton, she received a wire from Teddy telling her to leave John at the ranch. Influenza had arrived in Nashville with a vengeance. He would be safer on the ranch, but she was needed badly. Nick urged her to stay, too, railing at Teddy for even suggesting that she place her life in jeopardy.
�Nick, I�m a doctor. Teddy is speaking to me as a colleague�not as a wife. I know you don�t understand it, but I do.� And so she�d returned, leaving John behind in the care of her family.
Some nights she never left the hospital. Sometimes she went three days without changing her clothes. Most days she didn�t remember whether she�d eaten�or even if she�d slept. She was doctor, nurse, orderly, and janitor. Every job had to be done, and those who were still on their feet did them without questioning.
Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it seemed to be over. Teddy said it might only be a lull in the storm, but the number of new cases dropped daily. Exhausted, they slept for twenty-four hours, and then, only partially refreshed, gave in to the needs of their bodies for each other. The next day Teddy developed a raging fever�and three days later he was dead.
Trevor brought John home for the funeral�Katherine told the others to stay away�and stayed to help her take care of the business that always follows death. John, devastated at the loss of the father he worshipped, shut himself in his room for days. Katherine left his meals in the hall, grateful when they were retrieved and eaten, and let him alone.
She attributed the odd changes in her health to grief and stress, but finally in June she began to suspect the truth. When the doctor confirmed that she was pregnant, she didn�t know whether to laugh or cry. In the end, she told John, and for the first time in weeks they smiled�then laughed�together.
Anne Victoria Emerson was born on a cold, sunny morning in late January. John, age ten, presented himself at the hospital as the man of the family, conferring in all seriousness with the doctors as to the health of his mother and baby sister. The staff, who had known him all of his life, treated him with kindness and Katherine felt that their compassion helped him heal even more in the familiar setting where he�d spent so much time with his father.
They had become a family of three again�never forgetting, always missing Teddy�but carrying on in a way that would have made him proud. Katherine thought of those days often now as Vicky began to heal. She wanted to tell her that�in time�the pain would dull, but she hadn�t believed those who told her the same thing, and Vicky wouldn�t believe her either. She would just have to wait and learn that truth for herself�but it would be a hard lesson.
Papa said that the hardest lessons were often the ones best learned and the most valuable. Katherine agreed with him�after a fashion�but she didn�t always relish the learning. Like the time she�d taken a school chum�s dare to walk the porch railing at school�and fallen off with inches to go. The derisive laughter of her classmates had followed her home.
Mother wanted to know why she was angry, of course, and Katherine told her. Mother was sympathetic but firm�under no circumstances was she to attempt the feat again, and Papa reiterated the edict. But the next day, the temptation was too strong�and this time she�d made it all the way around before toppling off at the end, breaking her wrist.
She expected to be smothered with sympathy and concern�poached eggs served on Mother�s blue-flowered dishes, Papa sitting beside her bed reading aloud for hours, Arthur and Guinevere smuggled upstairs by Mrs. Tompkins, the housekeeper, who thought Katherine not only beautiful but perfect.
The hurt she felt at being expected to carry on as usual was almost worse than her throbbing wrist. �You disobeyed us, Kate,� Mother said matter-of-factly, �and now you must take the consequences. I�m very sorry that your wrist hurts, but you can�t expect to be rewarded for disobedience.�
To Katherine, Papa�s reaction bordered on treachery. �I�d break my wrist twice over for you, Kate precious, but the fact remains that you did exactly what we told you not to do�and for no good reason other than to impress your little friends.�
She�d sulked in her room for an entire afternoon�and then she�d given up and come downstairs for dinner, hair brushed, sash tied, face arranged with a smile. Papa had helped her with the lessons she�d missed in school, and then Mother had read aloud from The Knights of the Round Table. Papa did slip her a stick of peppermint candy when he kissed her goodnight�and when the doctor said she could go back to school, Mother fashioned her a sling from her own favorite blue scarf. Small concessions�and a large lesson.
But Vicky�s loss wasn�t simply a broken wrist and a temporary fall from grace, Katherine mused, and her own heart ached for her daughter.
Chapter 3
As spring came on, Katherine recognized an agonizing restlessness in her daughter. So, in June when Vicky announced that she�d resigned her position at the library, Katherine wasn�t surprised. It was what Vicky said next that was a shock. �I�m going to join the WACS. I can do something to win this war besides stamp books.� With her master�s degree in library science, she did a great deal more than stamp books, but Katherine didn�t say that.
�You�ve thought this over very carefully, I suppose.�
�You know I have, Mother. You know I�ve never been impulsive�you taught me better than that.�
�Yes, I did.�
�John said that when he received his orders, he�d send Rosalie and the children home, so you won�t be alone.�
�I�ve told you before that being alone is not something I find burdensome.�
�I�m going to enlist tomorrow.�
�All right, Vicky.�
�Are you�upset with me?�
�I don�t want either my children going to war�but then, you�re not children anymore. And I would be less than the mother I want to be if I did anything but support you completely.�
Vicky threw herself down on the floor beside her mother�s chair and buried her face in Katherine�s lap. �Oh, Mother, it�s eating me up! I know Charley�s not coming home, and I can�t stay here and keep waiting for something that�s never going to happen!�
Katherine stroked her daughter�s thick auburn hair. �Of course you can�t, darling. I understand�I really do.�
* * * * * * * *
Rosalie and the children arrived in September just in time to enroll Jack, the oldest, in first grade. Rosalie�s father had died when she was sixteen, and her mother had sold their home and now lived in a small apartment in Nashville, so it was natural that she and the boys would move in with Katherine for the duration. Katherine gave Jack and Teddy their father�s old room and put Rosalie in the guestroom, telling her to make it her own.
John was off to London, his assignment unknown, even to him. Vicky was in Texas working as a medical records clerk in the base hospital. Though she hadn�t chosen medicine as a career, she�d picked up a thorough education in medical terminology from Katherine, and now it was becoming useful. Katherine, Rosalie, and the children settled in to wait.
�I can live with the shortages and rationing,� Katherine told her daughter-in-law after a particularly long day in October, �but not without all the younger doctors who are being drafted or are enlisting. I know they�re needed�but I�m not sure how long those of us who are left behind can keep up.�
Rosalie brought Katherine a cup of tea and gently shoved an ottoman under her feet. �I know it won�t do any good to tell you not to overdo, but I�ll tell you anyway.�
�Mother always said that one does what has to be done.�
�And you do. I promised John I�d look after you.�
Katherine�s feet came down with a soft thud. �You can tell your husband that I don�t need looking after!� she snapped. �Not yet anyway!�
Rosalie held up her hands in mock surrender. �Sorry.�
�I�m just tired tonight, Rosie�forgive me.�
�It�s forgotten.� Rosalie took up the sweater she was knitting for John.
�Audra used to knit,� Katherine observed, putting her aching feet back on the ottoman. �She knitted for the orphanage and for all her friends with new babies. She was good with her hands. They were never idle�almost to the last.�
Katherine closed her eyes and listened to the soft rhythmic clicking of the needles. Teach me to knit, Audra. I can learn. Teach me to knit a coat and cap for my doll. Audra had put aside her own project to search out extra needles and scraps of yarn for her baby sister to use. Then, with characteristic loving patience, she had proceeded to help Katherine turn those scraps into a tassled tam and jacket for the new china doll, Jennifer Jane.
After that, whenever Audra was knitting or crocheting or embroidering, Katherine sat on a stool at her feet and did likewise. She knew that Papa liked seeing his princess act like such a little lady. However, when she was roughhousing in the barn or climbing trees or straddling the corral fence watching one of the hands break a horse, he turned a blind eye. Mother assured him that Audra had done all that, too, and still blossomed into a lovely young woman�and their Kate would also.
As Katherine grew up, Audra had exerted almost as much influence on her as her mother. Audra was beautiful and charming and knew how to handle their four bossy brothers. Just listen and smile, KatieBee, and then do exactly what you think you should do. They mean well, and sometimes they really do know best. But always remember that you have to make your own decisions.
She�d been four when Audra married Don. There were six bridesmaids, all wearing rose taffeta dresses with white roses in their hair. When she asked why her dress was pink, Audra said it was because she was special. I want my sister to stand out from all the others, KatieBee. I have lots of friends to be bridesmaids but only one little sister.
When the ceremony was over, and Audra and Don started down the aisle arm in arm, Katherine had thought it was the most natural thing in the world to go over and take Audra�s hand and walk with them. Audra had seemed to think so, too, even though some people in the pews were tittering as they passed. Later she�d overheard a lady saying how that child had certainly spoiled things, and she�d hidden in a corner and cried until Audra had found her and made her tell the reason for her tears. I didn�t mean to spoil things, truly I didn�t!
She could still remember how she felt when Audra, heedless of her bridal finery, had hugged her close and whispered words of comfort as only she could do. How many girls can say that their little sisters walked down the aisle with them? Oh, KatieBee, whenever I think of my wedding day, I�ll remember how special you made it!
After her mother died, Katherine looked to Audra more and more for counsel and comfort�she was like Mother in so many ways. Audra had even come to Nashville and helped plan Katherine�s wedding. She wasn�t well, of course, but she�d come anyway. Katherine arranged for her to see a women�s specialist while she was there. Audra didn�t tell her the truth about the diagnosis until much later�long after the wedding.
It was cancer�the same kind that had taken Mother. Teddy had been so kind and understanding, just as he�d been when Katherine needed to take care of her parents, and sent her out to California to stay with Audra that last month of her life. She told Don that she�d come to care for Audra, but it was Audra who cared for her instead. Katherine sat beside her bed for hours, listening to the old family stories again, remembering the love and the laughter, and screaming inside because she was losing her beautiful sister.
I�ve always taken the credit for you, you know. If I hadn�t been so involved with the orphanage, Royce and Mother might never have known about you. You were such a special blessing,, KatieBee. I think you made all of us�Jarrod, Nick, Heath, Gene, me�better parents. We watched Mother and Royce with you and knew that�s how it should be.
Katherine begged to be allowed to arrange Audra�s hair herself before the viewing. I know how she liked it. Please�I want to�I need to do it. So she had brushed and pinned�and mourned.
* * * * * * * *
Rosalie prepared Thanksgiving dinner and suggested they invite Charley�s parents. The Gills accepted gratefully, and the day�while full of poignancy�was a pleasant one. Vicky called from Texas just before their guests left. After speaking with her, Violet Gill turned to Katherine with tears in her eyes. �She said that she was thankful for having had Charley in her life�even if things didn�t work out, she wouldn�t have wanted to miss him.�
Katherine nodded. �We all risk loss when we love, but if we didn�t love�we wouldn�t really live.�
�You know that better than anyone, Katherine.�
�No, my losses have been no more than many others. Let�s just say I�ve learned something from them and leave it at that.�
* * * * * * * *
John�s letters from London came regularly, and he always wrote to both his wife and his mother. Vicky wrote sporadically, but she�d never been a very good correspondent, even when she was at Bryn Mawr. Katherine continued her voluminous correspondence with her extended family. Trevor�s sons had been drafted, as had Heath�s grandson. Gene�s two grandsons were trying to finish one more year of college before enlisting. Peter, Nick�s grandson who ran the ranch with his father, was struggling with his conscience about taking the exemption for working in a war-necessary industry�cattle�or enlisting with the others. Katherine hoped he�d decide to stay�the family was giving enough.
Will Trowbridge had adopted Eric, Elizabeth�s son by her first marriage, and they�d had a daughter�Tessa. Will wrote that Eric�s son Bill was in the Navy, and so was Tessa�s husband who was a gunner�s mate. �I�d have gone in their place, Katherine, old as I am. I waited so long for a family, and to have even one, much less two, of them in danger is almost more than an old man can bear. Please God they�ll all come home�John, too. Eric is weighed down with business responsibilities. I turned things over to him long ago, but I try to advise him whenever he comes to me. The war has charged the economy all right, but the cost has been too dear for those overseas and those of us at home.�
Katherine thought of her father�s aversion to conflict of any kind. When she�d asked him about his experiences, he�d been willing to talk about his time in the cavalry after graduating from West Point, but not about what had come to be called the Civil War. War is a dirty business, Kate. It took me a long time to feel clean again after I came out of it. I put it behind me, and that�s where I want it to stay.
Heath wouldn�t talk about his time in Carterson either, but Mother said he wasn�t as bitter about it as he had been in the beginning. He�d begun to see that the soldiers on both sides were the victims of a political struggle that might, had cooler heads prevailed, have been averted.
Nick was always good for a story when she needed information for an essay, but he never really told her the whole truth either. For some reason, she spent more time with him than with the others, and before she was ten she understood that all his yelling and stomping around was to hide the tenderness that made him so vulnerable to the wounds of those he loved.
She�d found him weeping at the desk in the library the afternoon of Jarrod�s funeral. What are we gonna do without Pappy? He was always there for us�always there. What are we gonna do without Pappy? And he�d never been quite the same after Susan, his wife, died a few years later. It was like the heart had gone out of him. He kept working because that�s all he knew how to do. Reckon I�ll die in the saddle one of these days, he liked to joke. He did, too. One afternoon his horse wandered back to the barn with an empty saddle. Heath found him up on the north ridge like he�d just laid himself down in the waving grass and gone to sleep in the warm autumn sunshine.
* * * * * * * *
Katherine was having lunch in the hospital cafeteria on the first of December when she was aware that someone had paused beside her table. �Dr. Wardell?�
She looked up at the stocky man wearing a rumpled white coat. His stethoscope hung crookedly around his neck, and his nondescript brown hair stuck up comically and was more than a little gray at the temples. �I�m Dr. Neville�the new kid on the block, you know?� He grinned.
�Please�sit down,� she said cordially. �You were introduced at the staff meeting this morning.�
�I�m the one that your chief-of-staff threatened out of a well-earned retirement in sunny Arizona.�
Katherine�s eyebrows went up. �Threatened?�
�We grew up together. He knows too much about me.� The man laughed, and Katherine found herself warming to his easy manner. �Yeah, he knows who put the teachers� privy on the schoolhouse roof and ran off old man Couch�s cow wearing his wife�s best bonnet and. . .�
�Aren�t you a little young to be retired?� She studied his full, unlined face with frank curiosity.
�Well, the truth is, I still had my shingle out, but I only worked when I wanted to. I was the neighborhood doc in a little town outside Phoenix. Treated sore throats and stomach aches, delivered a few babies, that sort of thing. Ran a few cattle on a little piece of land I bought. Played a little golf. I made a pretty good living when I was doing surgery�I specialized.� He tapped his chest.
�Thoracic?�
�Yep. Got tired of it. Had a nest egg, so. . .� He grinned again. �But this damn war. . .� He coughed. ��Scuse me, Doctor. . .this stupid war�s taken all the best and brightest, and now old codgers like us have to pick up the slack.�
�You�ll pardon me if I don�t class myself with the old codgers.�
�Present company excluded, of course.�
Katherine smiled. �You may liven things up around here anyway, Dr. Neville.�
�Mac.� He leaned across the table slightly. �Actually, my name�s Lancelot, but if you ever tell, I�ll operate on your thorax and put your ribs where your brain is.�
Katherine exploded with laughter. When she could speak again, she said, �I take it your mother was an aficionado of the Knights of the Round Table.�
He grimaced. �I have a sister named Guinevere.�
�I had a dog named Guinevere once�and one named Arthur.�
He sawed at his lamb chop. �I�ve eaten shoe leather not as tough.�
Katherine nodded sympathetically. �Oh, for a nice ribeye! My brother Nick could catch it, kill it, carve it up, and throw it on the fire for dinner, and it practically melted in your mouth.�
Something flickered in his eyes. �You come from a ranch background?�
�I was raised in Nashville, but we went back to the family ranch in California for two months every summer.�
�Never been to California.�
�It�s beautiful.�
He put down his knife and fork and shoved the plate away. �You know any place we can get a ribeye?�
�Not legally.�
�Who cares?�
�I�ve heard there�s a place about ten miles out that serves anything you want�if you call ahead.�
�Got the number?�
�No.�
�Can you get it?�
�Possibly.�
He wiggled his shaggy eyebrows. �Well, look, why don�t you get it, and I�ll pick you up at seven after I get off duty.�
She regarded him with a mixture of amusement and impatience. He was certainly taking a lot for granted. �Do you frequently pick up women in hospital cafeterias, Dr. Neville?�
�Mac. Hell, no, I didn�t pick you up�I picked you out. Saw you right off in that staff meeting this morning. You�re name is really Emerson, but you�ve always gone by Wardell professionally. You graduated from Vanderbilt where you still teach a class three times a week, and you have a son who graduated from West Point and a daughter who�s in the WACS.� He stirred his tea. �Anything else you want to know about yourself?�
Katherine stared at him. �You�re rather forward, Dr. Neville.�
�Nah�I�m a pussycat. Wait �til you get to know me better.�
Katherine stood up with the cool dignity she had learned so well from her mother. �I can wait,� she said and walked away.