them and throw her arms around his neck.
Then her heart seemed to stop when another of the officers broke away from the group and began walking unsteadily toward her. He was limping, she noticed, and he wore a piece of sticking plaster on his forehead. He looked incredibly weary… and unbelievably handsome.
He paused in front of her and held out his hand. “Sorry I’m late. I believe this is our dance.”
Speechless and embarrassingly close to tears, Elizabeth smiled up into the tired face of Major Earl Monroe.
CHAPTER15
Suddenly the chattering and laughter in the ballroom seemed to ebb away as Elizabeth took Earl’s hand, leaving only the soothing voice of Frank Sinatra to entice her onto the dance floor.
“You’re limping,” she said as he led her into the midst of the smooching couples.
“We had a little problem on the way back this morning.”
“Won’t it hurt you to dance?”
“I’ll manage. Just don’t ask me to jitterbug.”
“Don’t worry. I have no intention of breaking my neck for anyone.” She glanced over to the group at the door. All of them appeared to have bandages of some kind, and one of them leaned on a cane. “What happened?”
“We caught some flak. Crippled the plane, but we made it back close enough to land in a field. Took us a while to hitch a ride back to base.”
Filled with concern, she looked up at him. His mouth was smiling, but the bleakness in his eyes frightened her. “That’s a little problem?”
“We made it down in one piece. Better than ditching in the ocean.”
“You shouldn’t have bothered coming down here tonight. You must feel awful.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”
Her heart seemed to turn over. “I’m so glad you made it back.” Such simple words that couldn’t convey the gratitude she felt that he had been spared. This time.
“So am I.” His gaze flicked over her. “Nice dress.”
“Thank you.” She had been right. Dancing this close with Earl Monroe was an interesting-no, captivating- experience. She felt quite light-headed.
She saw the other couples nuzzling each other and wanted so much to touch his cheek with hers. She had to remind herself sternly that he belonged to another woman. In an effort to reinforce that, she said deliberately, “Your wife will be very relieved to know you are safe.”
His face was expressionless when he answered her. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Do you have children?”
“Two. Boy and a girl.”
“They must all miss you very much. It’s hard for children to be without their father.”
“Yeah, well, they’re almost grown up now. Brad’s sixteen, and Marcia’s a year older.”
She looked at him in surprise. “You must have been very young when you had them.”
“Right out of high school.” He inclined his head in the direction of the stage. “Good music. Sinatra’s a favorite of mine.”
“Mine, too.” Aware that he’d deliberately changed the subject, she told him about the rest of Bessie’s collection of records. Obviously it was painful for him to talk about his family.
The song ended much too soon, and she walked with him off the floor, wishing it could have gone on forever.
He said something to her, but the band music drowned out his words. She was about to ask him to repeat them when the sound of a disturbance over at the bar caught her attention.
A British soldier appeared to be arguing with an American, while a young woman attempted to get between them. Elizabeth recognized Lilly Crumm just as the soldier swung a punch at the other man’s face. The American immediately retaliated and knocked the soldier to the ground.
It seemed to Elizabeth as if everyone in the room had been waiting for that moment. The tension had been building all night, and now all hell broke loose. Rita Crumm appeared from nowhere and dragged her daughter out of the way as British soldiers, American airmen, and too many women surged onto the floor. Fists began to fly, voices cursed, yelled, and screamed, while somewhere in the background someone was blowing on a whistle, barely heard above the racket.
Elizabeth signaled to Wally to turn off the music, since no one was listening to it anyway. Earl seemed to have disappeared, and she went up on her toes to scan the room for a sight of him. As she did so, a glass tankard sailed past her head, narrowly missing her. Someone bumped into her back, sending her forward into the flailing arms and kicking feet.
A painful blow on the shin made her cry out, and she twisted out of the way as a couple of men locked in mortal combat lurched past her. A pair of strong arms locked around her from behind, and terrified now, she struggled to release herself.
“Come on,” Earl’s voice said in her ear. “Let’s get out of here.”
Weak with relief, she let him guide her through the struggling bodies until they were at the edge of the crowd.
He put his mouth close to her ear again and asked, “Is there another way out of here?”
She pointed to a door tucked away in the corner behind the stage. Immediately he grabbed her hand and stumbled unevenly toward the door, dragging her behind him. They reached it safely, just as the shrill sound of whistles echoed throughout the ballroom.
“M.P.’s,” Earl said, and pushed her through the door into the dark passageway beyond. “That will be trouble for the guys.”
She didn’t answer him until they were through the narrow passageway and out into the main foyer. Then she said with a sigh, “Well, that was a disaster.”
He looked sympathetic. “I hate to say I told you so…”
“I know. Obviously this integration thing is going to take a lot more work. I’ll simply have to come up with something else.”
Inexplicably he gave a shout of laughter. “Lady Elizabeth,” he said, still chuckling, “you are priceless! I like your spirit. Reminds me of the pioneers.”
She would never know what prompted her to utter her next words. Maybe it was the approval in his eyes. Or the relief of seeing him back safe and sound from a near disaster. It could well have been all the excitement of being in the middle of a brawl. Or perhaps the two glasses of sherry she’d consumed while worrying about him. Whatever the cause, the words popped out of her mouth before she could stop them. “Please, Earl, do call me Lizzie.”
Polly had been in the middle of the dance floor when the fight erupted. Sam had been wonderful, shielding her with his body as he swept her away from the brawling servicemen. She’d looked for Marlene but couldn’t find her in all the confusion. Now she stood shivering outside the town hall, watching people stream down the steps.
“I hope she’s all right,” she told Sam. “Ma will never forgive me if something happens to her. We’re supposed to watch out for each other.”
Sam tightened his arm around her. “You can’t be responsible for what she does. She’s a big girl.”
Polly looked at him in surprise. “Not that big. She’s not as skinny as me but-” She broke off when Sam laughed.
“Not big in that way, though I guess she is built real nice, now that I think about it.”
“Here, watch it!” Polly punched him in the arm. “Don’t you go looking at my sister like that.”
Sam dropped a kiss on her nose. “No need to worry, honey. I only have eyes for you.” He started to sing softly, chasing away her doubts.
She couldn’t stop worrying about Marlene, though, and kept her gaze fixed anxiously on the doors.
