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else. She was the one who’d introduced the subject. She should have realized that Dwight would turn the tables on her and ask her about Ed. But, no. No matter how many times her mother or Martha chided her for her impetuosity, she hadn’t learned. She still spoke without thinking first.
    Fortunately, Carolyn hadn’t had to tell any lies to get out of the hole she’d dug. She simply hadn’t told Dwight the entire truth. She had no intention of telling him—or anyone—that she had practically proposed to Ed and that she viewed her engagement as part of the war effort. She loved Ed. That was true. It was also true that she loved him as a friend or a brother, not as the man she was planning to marry. But that was one of those truths that she would not reveal. Not now. Probably not ever.
    Carefully, she slit the envelope and pulled out the thin sheet of paper.
    My darling Carolyn. Ed’s handwriting was like him, big loopy letters that scrawled across the page. She smiled, remembering the notes they’d left in the crotch of the oak tree when they were children. Those letters had not started, “My darling.”
    Your letters mean more than I can ever tell you, he wrote. The one thing the Army didn’t prepare us for was boredom, and that’s what we’ve got. Each day seems like the one before. We have Stand To at dawn. That’s one of the two times a day that we get out of the trenches. You can’t imagine how good it feels to stand on the ground with air—not dirt walls—around you. I’ve been told that the sunrise here in France is beautiful, but I can’t vouch for it, since every day, every single day, it has rained at dawn.
    Once we eat (and I won’t bore you with the litany of canned rations), it’s time to tend to the donks. Carolyn smiled again. The first week, Ed had complained that the soldiers gave everything nicknames. Mules were called donkeys, or donks for short. Now, she noted, he’d adopted the abbreviation. Mine kicked mud everywhere—all over me. Not that I was clean before then. Once Donk was fed, it was back into the trenches with nothing to do except wait for dusk and another Stand To.
    But then we had mail call. Carolyn, my dearest, your letter was better than sunshine. I tried to picture you with a clothespin on your nose, and that made me laugh for the first time in days. Thank you, my darling.
    Carolyn squeezed her eyes closed to keep the tears from falling. No matter what happened in the future, she could not regret her engagement, not when it had made Ed happy.

Chapter Five
    D wight stared at the door to the operating theater, frowning when it did not open. Where was she? Breakfast had been over for hours, or so it seemed. She should be here. Just because the other staff hadn’t arrived didn’t mean there were no men to treat. Didn’t Carolyn realize that they had important work to do? Men’s lives were at stake, and she was late. Dwight thrust his hands into his pockets when he realized he had balled them in frustration. He couldn’t let Carolyn—or anyone—annoy him that much.
    If it were another nurse, Dwight would have thought she was fussing with her hair, but—though she was the prettiest woman Dwight had ever seen—Carolyn appeared to spend no time primping. He had never seen her look in a mirror or try to catch her reflection in a window the way Louise and his sisters did. Dwight was certain curling her hair wasn’t the reason Carolyn was late. Knowing her, she was joking with someone in the wards. That wasn’t necessarily bad. Even though Dwight put no credence in the therapeutic effects of laughter, the men in the wards appreciated Carolyn and her jokes. The problem was, men needed her here. He needed her, for until she arrived, he could do nothing. He couldn’t ask the orderlies to bring in his first patient, because without a nurse, he was unable to operate.
    Dwight frowned again. Where was she? He had been waiting for what felt like hours, and she was—he blinked