<< Go Back

Warring with Love (Finding Love the Harvey Girl Way) (Volume 4)

By Cynthia Hickey

Order Now!

Chapter 1
Betsy Colter stared out the train window, refusing to imagine her ex-fiancé Lloyd’s face reflected in the glass. Night fell, leaving the world outside in darkness except for lamps illuminating the train platform. Oh, she shouldn’t be so melancholy. She’d discovered weeks ago that her heart wasn’t as broken as she’d originally believed. Lloyd never did make her pulse race or mouth go dry. He was just…Lloyd, the boy who’d always been there.
She sighed. Well, no more. Now, he belonged to another, and Betsy sat on a Santa Fe railroad train heading from Kansas City, Kansas, to Colorado Springs, Colorado. Or at least she would be once the train started moving again.
Why not venture out and see what the country might have to offer? Her parents were gone. Father had died five years ago from an accident at the mill and her mother only a few months ago from a car accident. As an only child, Betsy had no one to talk to about the path her future should take. She made her own choices, following God’s lead the best she could, and tried to keep loneliness at bay. And now, in her purse sat a contract. She was going to be a Harvey Girl.
With the war in full swing, the Harvey Company had warned her she’d work to the point of exhaustion every day, serving food to thousands of military men each week not only on the arriving trains, but also from nearby Camp Carson. Perfect. Busyness would keep the pain of rejection away. She’d further serve in some other capacity come her day off each week. Whatever it took to make her feel needed again.
Blinking away tears, she rubbed the condensation from her breath off the window and gazed out at the large group of men in army uniforms who congregated on the platform. Several of the men whistled and waved. She smiled and gave a small wave in return. They weren’t the first group she’d shared a car with, but they were definitely the largest. She glanced around the train car at the few women onboard. They’d be overrun for sure.
Before she was able to get up, she found herself boxed in by three rowdy young enlisted men.
“Someone beautiful to pass the time with.” A private with hair so blond as to be almost white sat across from her.
Next to him sat an olive-skinned young man. The third man plopped next to her, laying his arm casually across the back of the seat and dropping a harmonica into his front pocket.
Betsy straightened and moved as close to the window as possible. Despite not knowing the soldiers, she didn’t feel unsafe or uncomfortable, just squished. After all, these would be the type of men she’d serve meals to each day. She could use the train ride to practice her skills at being friendly, yet able to keep the men at arm’s length.
“I’m Private First Class Gregory,” the man next to her said. “I’m a doctor. You can call me Spencer.”
Betsy looked up into eyes the color of a summer sky. His oak-brown hair, even cut as short as was required by the army, gleamed with health. A chiseled jaw and well-defined lips completed the picture. Betsy smiled.
Here was the diversion she needed. Private Gregory’s good looks were as far from Lloyd’s red hair and freckles as they could possibly be. She held out her hand. “Betsy Colter, Harvey Girl.”
“Pleased to meet you. These gentlemen are Private Shuman and Private Perez. We’re on the last leg of our journey until we go overseas. Medics, all three of us, reporting to Camp Carson for a few days before heading for France.” He flashed her a dimpled grin. “Off to save the world.”
“How commendable.” The opportunity to enjoy a handsome man’s company, knowing she would never see him again, gave Betsy a freedom she didn’t think possible. No commitments, no promises to be broken, nothing but good conversation and a few laughs. One of Lloyd’s excuses for betraying her was his assertion that all army men were scoundrels—and he hadn’t been able to resist the charms of a particular beauty. Betsy’s eyes were now wide open. She wouldn’t get too attached to any military man, but she didn’t mind the attention now and again, same as any other girl.
As the train pulled away from the depot, a waitress in a starched white dress and apron wheeled a cart down the aisle and handed out brown meal boxes.
Private Shuman frowned. “Boxed meals?” He peered after the waitress. “Someone told me the Harvey Company was a classy joint. She looks like a nurse.”
“The war has changed a lot of things, Private. This is better fare than the norm, I guarantee you.” Betsy opened her box. A fresh turkey sandwich nestled at the bottom with fried potatoes and an apple. Sufficient, even if it wasn’t the glamorous meal once served by Harvey Girls on the trains. She did look like a nurse. Would Betsy serve on the train or in one of the Fred Harvey restaurants?
After a quick prayer of thanksgiving, she bit into her sandwich. The Harvey Girls ministered with smiles and good food rather than medicine. Maybe Betsy had found her place to be needed, and wanted, after all.
“I’m going fishing with those other dames. This gal’s already rationed by Gregory.” Private Shuman closed his box. “Come on, Perez. If we’re quick, we’ll beat those guys to the other pretty girls.”
Hmmm. Betsy concentrated on her food. The anonymity of being in a crowd was lost now that the intense gaze of Private First Class Gregory focused on her. Why, the man hardly blinked. Whatever could be going on inside his head?
*
The lovely Betsy squirmed under Spencer’s study. Her blue eyes looked as if she’d just woken, and the auburn curls clipped back from an oval face made quite the pretty picture. His gaze settled on her lips, the bottom a bit larger than the top. She seemed friendly enough, more than willing to carry on a conversation among a group, but now that it was just the two of them, a shadow crossed her features, and she suddenly found the contents of her meal box more fascinating than him.
“So, where are you from, Betsy?” Spencer wadded up his napkin and tossed it in his box. They had a long night ahead of them, and he couldn’t think of a more pleasant way of passing the hours than in the company of a pretty gal.
“Missouri. You?”
“I’m from a small town in the mountains north of Colorado Springs. I’m hoping to squeeze in a visit with my family during my few days at Camp Carson. I know my mother will be pleased.” More than pleased, if he were honest. She’d been almost inconsolable when he’d told her of his plans to join the army. Dad had returned from the Great War with an injury that left him with a limp, and Mom worried Spencer would suffer the same fate or worse.
But Mom always said God looked out for His children. Spencer counted on her prayers covering him. Besides, he wasn’t going to shoot, but rather save lives with his training as a medic.
“Why did you want to be a Harvey Girl?” He moved to the seat across from her in order to watch her better. “There must have been easier jobs available.”
“Why not?” She shrugged. “It pays well, provides me with room and board, and I can serve my country by serving its fighting men.”
“Not looking to hitch up with anyone?”
“Get married?” She shook her head. “No, I almost tried that once. It didn’t work out.” She looked sad and glanced out the window.
Spencer felt like a cad for bringing up the subject, no matter how innocent his question had been. He leaned over and patted her hand. “I’m sorry. I tend to flap my lips without thinking sometimes.”
“It’s all right.” She turned with a smile. “Do you have a girl back home?”
“No one special.” It was a good thing, considering the uncertainty that went along with war. “But I see a girl I’d like to write to while I’m away.” He winked.
Her cheeks darkened. “I suppose I could accommodate you. Anything to bolster a soldier’s spirit.” After digging in her purse for a piece of paper, she scribbled the address of the Harvey House in Colorado Springs and handed it to him.
“That’s the ticket.” He leaned back in his seat and propped his feet on the seat across from him. It would have been nice to have a berth to stretch out in, but everyone made sacrifices during wartime. “Maybe I’ll see you again before I leave.”
The other soldiers whooped and hollered at the back of the car. Even with the sounds of a party, and the occasional giggle of one of the other women, he preferred the cozy quiet of time spent in Betsy’s company. There was something girl-next-door and wholesome about her that drew him.
Sure it was nice having the attention of girls fluttering around him because of his uniform, but when the lights came down and night fell, it was a nice girl like Betsy that a man craved. Would she let him kiss her? He knew he was being presumptuous, but it was wartime. His gaze settled on her lips again.
The waitress came back down the aisle collecting garbage before the lights dimmed in the railroad car. Lucky soldiers paired up with girls willing to cuddle away the night. Low murmurs and the occasional giggle filled the air.
Spencer slumped farther in his seat. Betsy didn’t seem the type of girl who would welcome any physical contact with a man she barely knew. He’d be content to watch her. Her lids drooped until she fell asleep, her head propped against the window glass.
Smiling, Spencer moved beside her and pulled her over to rest on his shoulder. He laid his cheek on the top of her head and breathed in the delicate scent of roses. He sighed and closed his eyes.
The sun streaming through the window woke him. His shoulder felt light. He glanced at the other seat at the red face of Betsy and grinned. “Sleep well?”
“Well enough. You have a very hard shoulder.” The corners of her mouth twitched. “Forgive me for using you as a pillow.”
He groaned and stretched, trying to pop the kinks out of his back. “Definitely my pleasure.”
The train slowed, signaling their arrival in Colorado Springs. Spencer sighed again. Even good things had to end. “May I escort you off the train, Betsy?” Anything to prolong their time together.
“Yes,” she answered softly, her eyes fluttering. Not flirtatious, but enough to let Spencer know he affected her as much as she did him.
He stood and offered her a hand up. All too soon they stood in the crisp autumn air on the train platform. “May I have something of yours to take into battle with me? Something to remind me of the beauty of home?”
“A lock of my hair, perhaps?” She giggled. “Aren’t mementos old-fashioned?”
“I’m an old-fashioned kind of guy. Please?”
She thought for a moment. “I have just the thing.” She dug in her purse and pulled out a pink handkerchief and a small bottle of toilet water. After giving the small square of fabric a few spritzes of fragrance, she handed it to him. “Every whiff will remind you of me.”
“I’m counting on it.” He lifted it to his nose and inhaled. “Write regularly?”
“As often as I can.” She tilted her head. “But I expect answers in return.”
“You’ll get them. There’s one more thing I require.” He cupped her face and lowered his lips to hers.

Order Now!

<< Go Back