Page 60 of All We Thought We Knew
“Mattie,” Nash said, drawing my attention. He didn’t look happy. “I don’t think you understand Fred’s situation.” He glanced at his friend. “I’m sorry about this. Maybe we should go.”
Fred’s narrowed gaze, however, remained fixed on me. “Do you really think I could ride again?”
His question demanded honesty. “I don’t know. This isn’t something we’ve ever tried on the farm. But,” I glanced between him and Nash, who now wore a look of cautious curiosity, “when Dad was teaching Mark and me to ride, he put thick leather belts around our waists. He’d hold on to it while he walked beside us, keeping us steady in the saddle. Granted, we were just kids, but, in theory, the principal could apply to an adult with limited mobility.”
They both stared at me. Admittedly, the idea sounded crazy.
“You know,” Nash finally said. He scratched his unshaved jaw, a half grin inching its way up his face. “If we rigged up some type of back support to attach to the saddle and used the belt, like Mattie was talking about, it just might work.”
I stared at him.
Was Nash saying he approved of my wild idea?
“How would I mount the horse?” Fred asked. “I may not weigh much these days, but I don’t think anyone could lift me into a saddle.”
Nash and I looked at each other. “A platform,” we said at the same time.
“We could build a platform that’s level with the horse’s back. You’d be able to roll onto it in your chair, then mount the horse with some help.” I looked at Nash, who nodded in agreement.
Fred’s gaze bounced between Nash and me, his expression reminding me of a kid on Christmas morning. “You’d be willing to go to all that trouble, just so I can ride again?”
Looking at this man who’d suffered so much, the answer was easy.
“Absolutely.”
EIGHTEEN:AVA
CAMP FORREST, TENNESSEE
MARCH 1942
The month of March blew in like a lion, but that didn’t stop spring from arriving. Wildflowers and budding trees lined the two-lane road that led to Camp Forrest, and herds of Black Angus cattle happily grazed on bright green grass despite strong winds swirling around them. Tennessee truly was beautiful year-round, but after all the sorrow we’d suffered this past winter, the rebirth that came with the warmer weather was more than welcome.
Brilliant morning sunshine peeked over the horizon as I drove through the main gate and made my way to the hospital. I’d begun arriving earlier lately. At first it helped me stay caught up on my ever-growing responsibilities, but in the last week or two, I realized I was using work as an excuse to escape the farm.
There were two reasons for that.
Ivy Lee and Gertrude.
In the short time since Ivy Lee moved into the farmhouse, the two women had become fast friends. Which was confounding, considering Gertrude hadn’t spoken a friendly word to me since I arrived last summer. While I generally got along with most people, Gertrude’s obvious dislike of me was something I didn’t understand and couldn’t overcome, no matter what I did to alleviate the situation. Now, watching her laugh and gossip with Ivy Lee every evening, I felt completely left out in my own home.
I parked the Ford in my usual place and carefully made my way across one of the plank sidewalks strewn throughout the camp. Rain had turned the grounds into a muddy mess, and I’d nearly lost a shoe to the abyss yesterday. We could only hope the skies would stay sunny the rest of the week and dry things out.
I glanced toward a building at the far end of the complex.
I hadn’t seen Gunther since he began working in the dispensary. I’d hoped to find an excuse to visit him and see how he was faring, but none of the never-ending personnel files took me to the building where the clinic was located. He seemed like a pleasant young man, with a bright future as a doctor if given a chance.
I let myself into the office only to find Colonel Foster engrossed in work.
“Good morning, sir. You’re here early.”
He looked up. “Good morning, Mrs. Delaney. I might say the same about you.”
“Can I get you some coffee?”
He motioned to the mug on his desk. “This is my third cup. I better quit before I start running laps around the camp.”
I smiled, then looked at the mound of paperwork on his desk. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
