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Meg jumped to her feet. There were too few nurses, or too many men to make a refusal possible, no matter how much she wanted only to be in Seamus’ arms. ‘I’d be delighted, thank you, Matthews.’
‘I’ll try not to step on your toes, Sister.’ These Are the Things I Love began to play and Matthews grinned. ‘Jimmy Dorsey and his Orchestra with Bob Eberly—this is a top song, Sister. I’m going to learn to play it on my saxophone after I get home.’ He took her in his arms, not too close, and, as they began a slow circuit around the makeshift dance floor, he began humming, singing occasional snatches with the singer. ‘The gleam of love light in your lovely eyes’. He looked into hers. ‘Reckon that’s you, Sister, with love light in your eyes. Have you heard from your fiancé, if I’m not being forward in asking?’
She summoned a smile and shook her head, feeling the loss of Seamus like a physical weight on her heart. ‘Not yet, but it’s only been a couple of weeks.’
‘He’ll write when he can. All the blokes know you’re his girl and how sweet on you he is.’
‘A real whirlwind romance.’ Her gaze slipped over Matthews’s shoulder into the darkness beyond the tent. Out there was their special place, where they’d made a little slice of heaven all their own. Where Seamus had looked at her with love in his eyes. Where she’d told him she loved him too.
‘The look you give in answer to my pleas . . .’ The singer built to the song’s finale but the voice she heard belonged to Seamus: ‘Your sweet voice whispering darling, I love you, These are the things I love.’
As the song ended and Matthews escorted her back to her seat, thanking her for the dance, her thoughts winged to her beloved.
Stay safe, Seamus, wherever you are. I love you.
