Page 12 of If You Were the Only Girl in the World
She stared at him. She knew of his kindness to her, his regard of her welfare, but what he did each day had not been a subject she had learned. “What do you have to do with surgical needles?”
“Find them for the front. I am in charge of certain supplies.”
Her admiration for him broadened. “The Germans have manufactured most of the needles for Europe and the Americas for decades.”
“Exactly,” he said, the lines around his eyes crinkling in ire.
“And now because of the blockade, we are short,” she added.
“Indeed. We’re running out. Quickly.” He arched a brow. “You have read of this?”
She smiled sadly. “I know this. My colleagues told me—well, actually warned me about shortages. Along with my personal stethoscope and tongue depressors,I brought a supply of surgical needles with me. Two hundred. All German. Rare.”
“Smart doctor,” he said with a grin.
“Thank you.” She turned to Dylan. “And are you working with Nate on supplies too?”
Dylan chuckled. “No, indeed. My talents are in the skies.”
She tipped her head. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m on my way to France myself. You see, I know how to fly an aeroplane and I’ve volunteered for the Lafayette Escadrille.”
She was shocked. “The French flying unit?”
“For Americans who know their stuff. Yes. A few of my friends have already joined. I’m on my way as soon as I get passage across the Channel.”
The war was coming home to her in so many ways. She felt the horror of it sinking like lead into her stomach. “So you and I are in the same boat, so to speak.”
He fiddled with his empty glass. “We could be. Perhaps we can get on the same boat. What do you think, Nate? Can you pull a few strings for us?”
“I’ll see what I can do, yes.” He locked his gaze on hers. “If I can’t get help in Horse Guards, I’ll go see Michael and ask him to book you both on a packet.”
“Michael,” Dylan interjected in explanation, “Is one of our cousins who works in Whitehall. A diplomat with great pull.” He wiggled his brows.
“I see. Good to know people in high places.”
Nate frowned. “I’d rather you travel with Dylan than go alone.”
That filled her with a sweet warmth she was becoming used to from him. “I’m due in Paris in a week. I didn’t expect an escort and won’t ask it of either of you.”
“You’re not asking,” Nate replied. “We’re providing.”
“I won’t lie and say I’m in no need of assistance,” she admitted. “I’ve not had any luck.”
“The ferries which used to run the Channel by the hour run infrequently,” Nate said.
“And it is impossible to count on any reservation on a packet as they cancel whenever they fear a German U-boat strike,” Dylan added.
“I thought that was the reason my reservations were not reliable,” she said and took a necessary sip of her sherry.
“I’ll make certain both of you get across.”
She smiled at Nate.We may well get across.Though no one can guarantee we land.
CHAPTER5
Dover, England
