“How can I help you, Lieutenant?” he asked.
I’d never checked in on one of the soldiers I’d brought in before, but this man didn’t know that. For all he knew, I always followed up with my patients the day after flying them in.
“I’m looking for a First Sergeant William Mitchell. I flew him in yesterday. It was a rough trip. I just wanted to check on him.”
He nodded and grabbed a clipboard, scanning the list of names.
“Two rows over and five beds down,” he said, pointing me in the direction.
“Thanks.”
I made my way past nurses and doctors, taking in the wounded, many of them in casts, their heads and appendages bandaged, the floor bloodstained and scrubbed to no avail.
William was right where I’d been told, his eyes closed as I bent to look at the clipboard attached to his bed.
“Am I gonna make it?”
I grinned, my eyes still on the paperwork.
“Do you want the good news or the bad news?” I asked, glancing around before finally meeting his gaze.
“Give it to me straight, doc,” he said.
“The good news,” I whispered, “is that you are going to make it. The bad? They didn’t remove your terrible sense of humor.”
“It’s my secret weapon,” he said. “It’s why they sent me to fight. Thought I’d annoy the Jerries into giving up.”
“How’d that go over?”
“Turns out they don’t understand American humor.”
I pursed my lips together, trying not to laugh, and set the clipboard back down.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Like I got shot in the arm, leg, and stomach.”
“I have news for you, Sergeant.”
He smiled and something low in my belly lit on fire. I’d thought him handsome on the plane, even with his chapped lips and his face half-covered in dirt. But cleaned up he was a bit dazzling with his dark hair and light eyes. He had a smile that could make a girl’s knees weak, something I’d only read about, scoffed at, secretly hoped to experience, and doubted existed.
“Can you sit for a while?” he asked.
I looked around, worried I’d get in trouble for fraternizing. It was discouraged because of the distraction it could cause. Distractions caused accidents, and I was not a rule breaker. But the way he was looking at me...
“For a few minutes,” I said, tucking a lock of hair that had come loose behind my ear and pulling up a chair that had been left at the foot of his cot. “I just wanted to check on you after that harrowing stitch job I had to do in the air. I have to fly out again soon though.”
“I appreciate that,” he said. “Any chance I get to know your name? I think it’s only proper. Since we’re to be married and all.”
I laughed softly. “I’m surprised you remember that. You lost a lot of blood. And were on a lot of morphine.”
“I never forget my proposals.”
“Have there been many?” I asked, feeling absurdly jealous.
“Just the one. Which is why it’s so memorable.”
His eyes held mine and I nodded.
