The Reluctant Midwife by Patricia Harman

. . Nothing but bluebirds all day long!”
Captain Wolfe
    We park in front of the pharmacy, between a horse cart with two mules and a green army truck with wood sides. CIVILIAN CONSERVATION CORPS it reads on the door.
    When I enter the building, I’m surprised to see Mr. Stenger’s wife at the counter talking to a tall man in a CCC uniform. I’m glad it’s her. Mr. Stenger may still be miffed about the scene with Nick Rioli when we tried to buy the epinephrine. It makes me tense just thinking about it. Also, I don’t want him to give me another quarter.
    â€œWill the young man be okay?” Mrs. Stenger asks as she wraps up a collection of medical supplies—a compression gauze, cottonballs, and Merthiolate. She’s a pretty lady, with her dark wavy hair tied back, and she wears her husband’s long white lab coat that droops almost to the floor.
    Mrs. Stenger, I remember from my previous years in Liberty, is an inquisitive, college-educated woman of about fifty, with five children whom she raises like wildflowers.
    â€œI’m sorry we don’t have a physician in town anymore,” she goes on in her low voice. “Are you sure you don’t want to buy a sling or some plaster? What if you need to make a cast?”
    â€œNo, this should be fine. The boy’s arm doesn’t seem to be broken, just scraped and bruised. He was clowning around and fell off the truck. Fifth District is sending Dr. Crane from Camp Laurel tomorrow.” The CCC man strokes the head of the purring orange cat on the counter.
    I’m feeling shy, but have to speak up. “I’m a registered nurse. Is there anything I can do to help?”
    â€œOh, Nurse Becky. I didn’t recognize you.” That’s Mrs. Stenger. “My husband told me that you and Dr. Blum were back in town.”
    â€œWe’ve just returned from Virginia, Dr. Blum and I, but Dr. Blum is not well.”
    As I move toward the counter, I can see the man is nice looking with a straight jaw and small, flat ears, but a scar down his cheek mars his handsomeness. A military injury from the Great War, I imagine. Most of the CCC officers, Patience told me, are from the army reserves, and General Douglas MacArthur is in charge of the program.
    â€œI know first aid and can even set a broken arm.”
    â€œThank you. I appreciate the offer, but we’ll be okay.” The gentleman salutes and limps toward the door. From the looks of him, his face was not the only part of him wounded. Still, he carries himself well and doesn’t seem outwardly disabled. He turns at the door. “Miss? Miss . . .”
    â€œRebecca Myers,” Mrs. Stenger offers.
    â€œMiss Myers, if you’re ever interested in helping out at the camp, we accept volunteers. . . . It’s Camp White Rock. Do you know where it is?”
    â€œI’ve heard of it. I can get directions.”
    â€œThen I hope you’ll come by.” He gives me a smile and I see that his teeth are strong and white.
    â€œI’ll think about it. I’m caring for Dr Blum in his convalescence, so that makes it complicated, but I’ll think about it.”
    â€œJust ask for Captain Wolfe.” He salutes us both again and then turns with a snap and marches down Main.
Gray Skies
    â€œBecky, Becky. Becky,” Mrs. Stenger gushes coming around the counter as if we were once best friends. “It’s so good to see you and oh, my holiness . . . the captain . . . what a man. He was nearly killed in the Invasion of Lorraine. . . . So how is the doctor? How is he? Terrible! Terrible! What’s his condition, anyway?” The woman floats around the counter flapping the long white medical coat and looking like the older sister of the actress, Joan Hopkins, same dark hair and big eyes.
    I take a deep breath. “He’s stable, but he’s suffered some kind of brain damage.” I keep the story short, wanting to stay on