Chapter Thirty Ava

THIRTY : AVA

CAMP FORREST, TENNESSEE

JULY 1944

I tidied my desk and prepared to leave for the day. A big celebration was planned on base tomorrow, commemorating the independence and freedom we enjoyed in this country. Families of soldiers and staff were invited to enjoy food, games, a parade at noon, and fireworks as soon as the sun went down. While the hospital administration office would be closed, I planned to arrive bright and early and get some work done while it was quiet.

I stifled a yawn and dug in my purse for my car keys.

Now that the hospital received a regular flow of incoming wounded from overseas, my days started early and ended late. Letters and official documents must be typed. Mounds of paperwork needed to be filed. Colonel Foster's schedule kept him on the run, which in turn kept me on the run too. A few weeks ago, he requested I accompany him to meetings throughout the base so I could take notes, declaring it an invaluable help to him. Sometimes the meetings took place after normal work hours, making the days especially long. When that happened, he always insisted we stop at the PX for a sandwich or hamburger before I headed home.

"I can't have you fainting from hunger while you drive back to the farm," he said after the first meeting ended well after dark.

From then on we made a habit of grabbing a bite together and enjoying conversation that had nothing to do with the hospital. He asked questions about the farm and horses, and I learned more about his personal life, including his hope to open a private medical practice after the war. His time in the military was satisfying, but he was ready to settle down somewhere.

I didn't mind the extra hours of work—and the extra pay—but Bren and the other girls teased me about "dates" with my boss. I reminded them I wasn't romantically involved with anyone and had no plans to do so. I'd never mentioned my correspondence with Gunther. His letters were too infrequent, and their lack of emotion convinced me he wanted nothing more than friendship. I'd resigned myself to being a widow for the rest of my life.

"Mrs. Delaney," Colonel Foster said as he came from his office. He looked smart in his dress uniform and spit-shined shoes. "I hate to ask this at such a late hour, but are you free tonight?"

I hoped he didn't have extra work for me to do. A long soak in a hot bath sounded divine. "I was planning to stop at the PX before going home. Gertrude wants to bake an apple pie for tomorrow, but she used her last sugar ration card last week to make Ivy Lee's birthday cake. I thought I'd surprise her."

He nodded. "The reason I ask is, I was to escort Mrs. Isbell to a dinner tonight at Hotel King, but she's feeling under the weather. I would prefer not to arrive alone, considering they've planned for a certain number of guests at the table."

Mrs. Isbell, Tullahoma's wealthiest widow. The older woman held a vast fortune, inherited from her late husband's thoroughbred horse enterprises, and was known for her philanthropic endeavors. She'd chosen the hospital at Camp Forrest as one of her projects. While the hospital couldn't officially accept financial donations, she'd worked with Colonel Foster over the past year and found many ways to help the patients and staff without bending rules.

"I hear they're serving prime rib," he grinned, obviously trying to bribe me.

My mouth watered just thinking about it. We hadn't had beef in ages, let alone prime rib.

"I'm not exactly dressed for a dinner party." I glanced down at my pencil skirt and plain white blouse. There wouldn't be time to go all the way out to the farm and change.

A sheepish look crossed his face. "When Mrs. Isbell called to cancel, she suggested I take you in her stead. She even offered to let us stop by her home on the way into town so you could borrow one of her daughter's evening gowns."

I blinked. "My goodness, that was generous of her."

"If you'd rather not go, I'll understand."

I heard disappointment in his voice. I knew he didn't attend dinner parties often. Bren speculated it was because he didn't like to go alone and was too much of a gentleman to ask a woman he wasn't interested in romantically to attend with him. The only reason he asked me now was because he'd already accepted the invitation and it would be rude to cancel.

"I'd be happy to attend the dinner with you," I finally said. "Let me call Gertrude and tell her I won't be home until later."

A smile lit his eyes. "Thank you, Mrs. Delaney. I can't tell you how much I appreciate this."

We drove to town in Colonel Foster's military sedan. I'd been to the Isbell estate a handful of times, but the white-columned mansion never ceased to impress.

"I'm glad you're going in my place," she said after a maid led us into a parlor where we found the older woman lounging on a sofa, a blanket over her legs. "I simply don't feel up to a night of mindless conversation and rich food." She waved the maid over. "Clarice will take you upstairs to my daughter's old room. Barbary is married and lives in Nashville now, but she keeps a small wardrobe here. Choose anything you like, my dear."

While Colonel Foster remained in the parlor with Mrs. Isbell, I followed the maid up a grand staircase, down a hall, and into a bedroom that looked like it belonged to a princess. A number of gowns were already laid out on the bed, a rainbow of brilliant colors and lush fabrics. The emerald green immediately drew me. A pair of matching shoes and a lace shawl completed the outfit. Clarice suggested a simple up-twist to my hair and had it expertly fashioned in no time.

When I came downstairs, I couldn't help noticing admiration shining in Colonel Foster's eyes when he stood and came toward me.

"You look lovely, Mrs. Delaney," he said, his voice soft.

"Now, now, you can't use formal titles tonight," Mrs. Isbell said, tsk-tsking. "It must be Ava and Hew, don't you agree, my dear?"

My face heated as Colonel Foster met my gaze, awaiting my answer. "I'm sure that will be fine."

I thanked the woman for loaning me the items and promised to return them the next day. She bid us good night with what could only be described as a mischievous grin.

"I don't believe she's ill," I said once we were back in the car, headed for Hotel King. "I think she just didn't want to go and made up an excuse so your feelings wouldn't be hurt."

Colonel Foster chuckled. "I don't doubt it." He glanced at me. "But I can't deny I'm glad you're here in her place. You really do look beautiful."

"Thank you," I said, suddenly shy.

We arrived at the hotel and were escorted to a private area of the Minors Restaurant where dozens of military officers and elegantly dressed women mingled. I was familiar with most of the men, but their wives and girlfriends looked at me with curious stares.

Thankfully Colonel Foster never left my side. He introduced me as Ava Delaney, nothing more, nothing less, and made a point to include me in conversations. We sat next to each other at dinner, which allowed me to relax and enjoy the delicious food, the likes of which we were unable to get with our ration cards. When the hotel staff shot off a round of fireworks, Colonel Foster offered his arm so I wouldn't stumble on the uneven lawn.

As the party wound down and we prepared to leave, he draped the lace shawl over my shoulders, his hands lingering.

"Thank you for coming with me, Ava. I don't usually enjoy these parties, but I did tonight because of you."

"I had a nice time too." I grinned. "I'll have to thank Mrs. Isbell for pretending to be ill."

A valet brought the colonel's car, and we drove away from the bright hotel lights. The sleepy town of Tullahoma lay quiet beneath a clear, star-studded sky.

"I should take you home. I don't like the idea of you driving by yourself in the dark," he said, concern in his voice.

"I'll be fine. I've driven home in the dark lots of times."

"I apologize for that. I've been selfish with your time and generosity."

Although I couldn't make out his features, I knew he was sincere. "There's no need to apologize. I enjoy my job. It lets me feel as if I'm doing my small part to win the war."

He reached to grasp my hand. "You're truly a gem, Ava Delaney."

The warmth of his fingers sent a shiver up my arm. I didn't remove my hand, and he didn't remove his either. I wasn't sure what was happening, but I was certain of one thing.

I felt a shift in our boss-employee relationship.

And I had no idea what to do about it.