Page 34 of All We Thought We Knew
I’d swept my shoulder-length pin curls to the side, anchored with a pearl comb, a style I hadn’t worn since before Richard died. That the colonel noticed rattled me. Mercifully, none of the other secretaries were in the room, otherwise there would have been no end to their teasing.
The colonel returned to his office, and I donned my coat, gathered the folders, and left the building. The breeze outside was brisk, but it felt good on my warm cheeks.
Colonel Foster’s comment regarding my appearance was unexpected, but I had to admit it brought a hint of pleasure. After Richard was sent to Hawaii, I didn’t worry much about my hair and makeup, considering I mainly stayed on the farm with Gertrude.
According to Bren, the colonel had never been married and had devoted himself to his patients and military career. The gray around his temples had us guessing his age, which we all agreed must be around forty. But as Bren pointed out the other day, he was indeed a handsome man. It made me wonder why he remained a bachelor.
A pang of guilt washed through me as memories of Richard’s ready compliments came to mind. He, too, had liked my hair in this style. From the day we met, he made sure I knew he only had eyes for me. Even his letters were filled with words of love and admiration. He’d looked forward to our future together with hope and excitement.
I heaved a sigh.
How I wished I were in Hawaii right now, with Richard alive and well by my side instead of trying to navigate life on my own. But no amount of wishing would bring him back. I was a widow, which meant I was as single as Colonel Foster. There wasn’tanything wrong with receiving—and enjoying—his compliment, I reminded myself.
After an hour of gathering information on the new employees, I came to a name no one recognized. His file contained only one sheet of paper, with minimal information filled in the blanks. His occupation was listed asDay-Time Orderly, which meant he could be in any of the sixty-plus hospital buildings, depending on where an orderly was needed at that moment. After searching to no avail, I met one of the nurses who’d helped me locate employees a few weeks ago.
“I’m not sure about the name,” she said, continuing with her task of filling pill bottles while we talked. “But I saw a new orderly in the trauma unit a little while ago. There was an accident on the training field.”
I thanked her and hurried to the building where specialized care was given to critically injured servicemen. The place buzzed with activity, with doctors and nurses calling out to each other, and patients on gurneys awaiting their turn for medical attention.
Clearly, now was not the time to try to update the file on an orderly.
I’d just turned to leave when I ran into the firm chest of a man wearing a grass-green shirt and matching trousers. Several folders slipped from my hands to the floor.
“Oh, pardon me.” I looked up to find intense blue eyes staring at me. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
He simply nodded and stooped to retrieve the items I’d dropped. When he handed them to me, I smiled. “Thank you. I’m Ava Delaney. I work for Colonel Foster.”
He dipped his chin.“Fräulein.”
The single word was so soft I barely heard it, yet it didn’t sound like English.
Just then he cast a nervous glance behind him, and I followed his gaze. There stood an armed soldier, unsmiling, watching us.
“Orderly!” came a shout from a doctor across the room. “Get over here. Now.” His angry glare was on the man I’d run into.
My heart thundered as the pieces connected.
The reason I’m sharing this information with you is because one of the detainees will be working in the hospital,Colonel Foster had said.
My eyes darted to the name badge clipped to the pocket of his shirt.
Gunther Schneider. Department of Justice Internee.
Here was the orderly I sought.
ELEVEN:MATTIE
DELANEY HORSE FARM
AUGUST 1965
I felt sick to my stomach as I lay on my bed, not caring if my party dress turned into a wrinkled mess. Laughter and music drifted from downstairs, where a group of our friends from school gathered to wish Mark and Nash well before they left for Vietnam in the morning. Two of their football buddies were also headed overseas, so it was a send-off for them too. We’d have a private family dinner later tonight—Mama’d spent the past two days preparing Mark’s favorite dishes—before we had to say goodbye.
The whole thing disgusted me.
I folded my arms across my belly.
How could they be in a celebratory mood when my brother and his best friend were trading peace and safety for the frightening evil that awaited them in a place most Americans couldn’t findon a map? We should be dressed in black, mourning the death of liberty and freedom, not wearing bright colors as though we had something to celebrate. I’d stayed downstairs as long as I could, a strained smile on my face the entire time before I feared I might erupt. I’d fled to my room to escape the insanity, but now I wished I’d run from the house, saddled Moonlight, and disappeared until everyone was gone.
