Read Online So Close to You (So Close to You - Trilogy) by Rachel Carter - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rachel Carter
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stands so straight and tall reminds me of my grandfather. We have to be related somehow.
I’m pretty sure my grandfather told me that his grandfather had been a doctor, and that he was still working during World War II. Could Dr. Bentley be Dean Bentley’s father?
I try to sound casual when I ask, “Do you have any children?”
“I have a daughter and a son.” He sits back down next to the bed and studies my face. I squirm under his strong gaze. “But I’d like to talk about your family, Lydia, and how you got into Camp Hero. Can you give me your full name for our records?”
“I—” My mind races. I didn’t think that I’d have to come up with some kind of cover story. “You said you have a daughter. What’s her name?”
He leans forward with his elbows on his knees and watches me. Finally he says, “Her name is Mary. She’s about your age.”
“Mary?” I whisper. Without thinking, I ask, “Is your son Dean?”
“Yes.” He raises an eyebrow. “How did you know that?”
I stare at him, my mouth half open. It takes a minute for me to realize that Dr. Bentley just asked me a question. Think, Lydia . “I thought I heard one of the soldiers mention a Dean Bentley last night. I took a guess.”
Dr. Bentley smiles and looks a little less curious. “Yes, Dean is an officer stationed here at Camp Hero. He’s part of the reason I volunteer when they need a doctor. Mary’s also here today. She’s downstairs right now nursing a soldier who was knocked out during training.”
Dean. Mary. I fall back against the pillows, staring at the tall, dark-haired man in front of me. Dr. Bentley is my great-great-grandfather.
I close my eyes. Meeting my ancestor has shifted something inside me. I’m no longer disoriented, no longer in shock. I can’t pretend that yesterday was a dream or a nightmare or anything but the truth .
I traveled in time. It’s 1944.
I feel the bed move and I open my eyes to see Dr. Bentley leaning over me. “You look pale,” he says, placing one hand on my forehead, the other against my wrist. “Are you sure—” He’s interrupted by the door opening.
“Hiya, Dad!” A girl with curly, dark red hair bounces into the room. “Nurse Linny says she needs your help.... Is this the girl everyone’s been talking about?”
“Mary, this is Lydia.” Dr. Bentley straightens.
“Lydia!” Mary smiles at me widely. Her teeth are startlingly white against bright red lipstick.
Dr. Bentley looks from me to Mary. “I need to go downstairs to see to a patient. Will you stay with Lydia until I come back?”
Mary skirts her father, skips over to me, and plops down on the bed. I lean back, pulling my nightgown quickly out of the way. “Don’t worry, Daddy. We have so much to talk about.”
Dr. Bentley smiles at her and turns to me. His eyes narrow slightly. “When I get back I’d like to hear that story of yours, Lydia.”
I nod and bite my lower lip.
Dr. Bentley shuts the door behind him as he goes.
Before I have time to start inventing a story, Mary leans in close. She has deep Bentley-green eyes and full, arched eyebrows. Her face is heart-shaped, with high cheekbones and full lips. I stare at her for a minute, startled. She and I have the same hair color, the same high cheekbones. We could be sisters.
“So.” She pats my hand. “Tell me everything. We’re all so curious.”
I start with the truth. “My name’s Lydia …”
“Well, I know that. They’ve been talking about you all morning. Lucas had to tell the story a hundred times—finding the poor, lost-looking girl wandering around Camp Hero in factory clothes and no shoes.”
“Factory clothes?”
“The dungarees, silly. So are you a factory girl?”
“I don’t—”
“Are you some kind of spy? That’s what my brother, Dean, thinks. He says we should interrogate you! That you might be working for the Germans or something. Isn’t that crazy? He’s flipped his wig. You’re only a girl!”
“I’m
I’m pretty sure my grandfather told me that his grandfather had been a doctor, and that he was still working during World War II. Could Dr. Bentley be Dean Bentley’s father?
I try to sound casual when I ask, “Do you have any children?”
“I have a daughter and a son.” He sits back down next to the bed and studies my face. I squirm under his strong gaze. “But I’d like to talk about your family, Lydia, and how you got into Camp Hero. Can you give me your full name for our records?”
“I—” My mind races. I didn’t think that I’d have to come up with some kind of cover story. “You said you have a daughter. What’s her name?”
He leans forward with his elbows on his knees and watches me. Finally he says, “Her name is Mary. She’s about your age.”
“Mary?” I whisper. Without thinking, I ask, “Is your son Dean?”
“Yes.” He raises an eyebrow. “How did you know that?”
I stare at him, my mouth half open. It takes a minute for me to realize that Dr. Bentley just asked me a question. Think, Lydia . “I thought I heard one of the soldiers mention a Dean Bentley last night. I took a guess.”
Dr. Bentley smiles and looks a little less curious. “Yes, Dean is an officer stationed here at Camp Hero. He’s part of the reason I volunteer when they need a doctor. Mary’s also here today. She’s downstairs right now nursing a soldier who was knocked out during training.”
Dean. Mary. I fall back against the pillows, staring at the tall, dark-haired man in front of me. Dr. Bentley is my great-great-grandfather.
I close my eyes. Meeting my ancestor has shifted something inside me. I’m no longer disoriented, no longer in shock. I can’t pretend that yesterday was a dream or a nightmare or anything but the truth .
I traveled in time. It’s 1944.
I feel the bed move and I open my eyes to see Dr. Bentley leaning over me. “You look pale,” he says, placing one hand on my forehead, the other against my wrist. “Are you sure—” He’s interrupted by the door opening.
“Hiya, Dad!” A girl with curly, dark red hair bounces into the room. “Nurse Linny says she needs your help.... Is this the girl everyone’s been talking about?”
“Mary, this is Lydia.” Dr. Bentley straightens.
“Lydia!” Mary smiles at me widely. Her teeth are startlingly white against bright red lipstick.
Dr. Bentley looks from me to Mary. “I need to go downstairs to see to a patient. Will you stay with Lydia until I come back?”
Mary skirts her father, skips over to me, and plops down on the bed. I lean back, pulling my nightgown quickly out of the way. “Don’t worry, Daddy. We have so much to talk about.”
Dr. Bentley smiles at her and turns to me. His eyes narrow slightly. “When I get back I’d like to hear that story of yours, Lydia.”
I nod and bite my lower lip.
Dr. Bentley shuts the door behind him as he goes.
Before I have time to start inventing a story, Mary leans in close. She has deep Bentley-green eyes and full, arched eyebrows. Her face is heart-shaped, with high cheekbones and full lips. I stare at her for a minute, startled. She and I have the same hair color, the same high cheekbones. We could be sisters.
“So.” She pats my hand. “Tell me everything. We’re all so curious.”
I start with the truth. “My name’s Lydia …”
“Well, I know that. They’ve been talking about you all morning. Lucas had to tell the story a hundred times—finding the poor, lost-looking girl wandering around Camp Hero in factory clothes and no shoes.”
“Factory clothes?”
“The dungarees, silly. So are you a factory girl?”
“I don’t—”
“Are you some kind of spy? That’s what my brother, Dean, thinks. He says we should interrogate you! That you might be working for the Germans or something. Isn’t that crazy? He’s flipped his wig. You’re only a girl!”
“I’m
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