Read Online When the Clouds Roll By by Myra Johnson - Free Book Online

grammar school. “Sir, are you in pain?”
    He bit down on the spate of curses burning the back of his throat. “I’m tired. Just take me back to the ward.”
    “Of course, sir.” The nurse turned his chair and rolled him toward the corridor. “You know, sir, it might lift your spirits a wee bit if only you’d allow visitors. Your mother has telephoned countless times today already, and just awhile ago I saw the lovely Miss Kendall talking to the charge nurse.”
    Gilbert grabbed the right wheel and jerked the chair to a halt that spun the nurse off balance. She gave a yelp and righted herself, then planted her fists on her hips and pierced him with a chiding glare. “Lieutenant!”
    The rage that had swept through him so completely now fell away like melting snow. He sagged and stared at the floor. “I’m sorry. It’s just—my head—” A quavering breath edged past his lips. He felt his eyes welling up. Blast it all, had he no control over his own emotions anymore?
    The nurse’s gaze softened. “Now, think nothing of it, Lieutenant. We’ll get you into bed and see what we can do to make you more comfortable.” She nudged the chair around in the direction of the ward and started on their way. “Soon as you’re settled, I’ll hunt up Chaplain Vickary for you. The man does have a way about him.”
    “Yeah, get Sam. Maybe he can—”
    Recognition slammed into Gilbert’s gut with the force of a kick from an army mule.
    Sam.
    Sam with Annemarie. Arm in arm, like they’d known each other forever.
    Like lovers.
    The anger simmered again, but this time Gilbert clamped a firm lid on it. Hadn’t he already vowed to give Annemarie up? Hadn’t he promised himself he’d never be a burden for her, that he’d set her free to find a man who could love her as she deserved?
    But Sam, Sam. Why did it have to be you?

7
    O f a ll the women in the world, why did Samuel find himself falling for the one woman he could never have?
    Of all the women in the world—the adoring French farm girls who’d beckoned him with flirtatious winks, the Red Cross nurses wearing compassionate smiles and crisp white uniforms, the sisters, daughters, and friends of friends who’d turned out at the docks and train stations to welcome the soldiers home . . .
    Of all the women in the world, why did it have to be Annemarie?
    Yesterday’s stroll along the promenade, her delicate hand nestled in the crook of his elbow, almost made him forget about the war.
    Almost made him forget his promise to do all he could to make sure Gilbert didn’t give up on life or the woman he loved.
    Gilbert had been in quite a state when Samuel returned to the hospital after his walk. The spunky little Irish nurse—Mary McClarney, if he remembered her name correctly—had stopped him in the corridor to express her concern.
    “Something has him mighty riled up, Chaplain. It’s understandable he’s moody and depressed, but I’ve not seen him quite so angry—and over nothing he would admit to.”
    Samuel thanked her and went straight in to check on Gilbert.
    And five minutes later found himself summarily dismissed. If he hadn’t ducked at the crucial moment, he’d have been beaned by a flying water glass.
    Maybe this morning things would be better.
    Entering the ward, Samuel did a quick reconnaissance while sharing a prayer or word of peace with a few of the other patients along the way. He paused at the foot of Gilbert’s bed and cast his friend a worried frown. Gilbert lay twisted in the bedcovers, his good arm cradling the injured arm. He appeared to be asleep, a good thing considering how frequently he complained of headache-induced insomnia.
    Gilbert stirred, then cracked an eyelid. “Don’t look at me like that.”
    “Like what?” Samuel stepped around to the side of the bed. “Like I’m checking to see what you have handy to throw at me?”
    “All out of ammo. The nurses have disarmed me.” Angling a glance toward his sling, Gilbert rolled