Sharing Corrie

Chapter Twenty Three

Fall 1917

Corrie set aside the newspaper with a heavy sigh. It detailed the casualties the Allies and Central Powers were inflicting on each other and the potential difference the support of incoming American troops could make. Though the United States was not yet engaged in the war, the draft had called most men between 21 and 31 into service, and even more were preparing to be shipped overseas. Corrie was selfishly grateful that Dr. Benjamin had not been drafted due to his integral work as a doctor for injured soldiers. She was less grateful for Edwin's cowardice in buying his way out of the draft.

Reaching into the bin of letters she'd received from the train that morning, Corrie continued to sort through them. Every letter marked as air mail from France or England indicated another man writing to a sweetheart or a family member. Though these letters saddened Corrie, she could only imagine how much worse it would be to receive the inevitable missives announcing a soldier's death or imprisonment. The thought of those letters was almost enough to encourage Corrie to resign her position as postmistress, but the appointment had provided her with much needed distraction over the past several months.

"Miss Walker?"

Corrie looked up from her position behind the desk of the post office to see Dr. Benjamin standing in the doorway, the very reason she needed a distraction. He smiled at her, one corner of his mouth tugged upwards.

"Good afternoon," Corrie greeted him.

"You've missed our daily lunch for the past few days," the doctor said, referencing the lunch she usually took every day with him, Hannah, Jack, Christina, and Mr. Fletcher. "I was coming to make sure you weren't drowning in mail."

Corrie laughed uneasily; she didn't want to tell him that she had been avoiding him in an effort to suffocate every rebellious thought. Despite her best efforts, her mind seemed to wander to Dr. Benjamin even when he was not present.

"I assure you I am alive and well."

"Perhaps I can convince you to join us for lunch today?" Dr. Benjamin asked, leaning onto the desk and offering her that devastating boyish smile.

"I suppose I can spare a few minutes," Corrie said, a smile crawling across her features.

Leaving behind the unsorted mail and grabbing only her wrap to ward off the fall weather, Corrie fell into step beside the doctor. Orange leaves danced with their invisible partner the wind across the cobblestone streets in front of them, hinting at the change of seasons. The skies were gray and overcast, threatening storms swept from the coast of the Atlantic Ocean. Corrie sighed and pulled her wrap closer around her narrow shoulders.

"How is my sister?" Corrie asked, directing the conversation to a safe topic.

"She is much the same," the doctor answered. "She's gained some strength but still struggles with labored breathing. She seems to really enjoy helping Hannah with the newspaper."

"I've noticed," Corrie answered.

"And you, Miss Walker? How have you been?" Dr. Benjamin asked, his gaze inquisitive. "We still haven't had a chance to talk about that poem you let me read. You need to provide me a chance to laud your work."

Corrie blushed and wondered if he realized just how carefully she'd avoided him. She regretted letting him read her poetry.

"I'm well," Corrie answered, keeping her eyes on the ground as they neared the practice.

What else could she say? That she was forced to avoid him for the sake of her loyalty to Edwin? That she was afraid she'd already given him too much of herself? No, he could know nothing of this. Corrie was grateful when Hannah waved to them from the doorway and their conversation terminated.