“It’s called ‘East St. Louis Toodle-Oo.’ I have that record, too. It’s at my parents’ home in Maine.”
For several minutes, she told him about leaving her family’s apple orchard to live with her aunt and uncle in Paris to chase a dream to perform at the Casino de Paris. For the first time in weeks, Jimmie’s thoughts drifted from the war, and he became less aware of the gnawing pain in his arm.
“My dad was reluctant for me to go to France,” she said, “until I convinced him that the Casino de Paris was a music hall—not a gambling house.”
He felt a tug at the corners of his mouth and realized he was smiling.
“It was tough landing gigs, and I eventually worked my way to a singing role at a cabaret called Bal Tabarin. That’s where I met Lucette.”
“Is she also a singer?”
“No, she’s a dancer.” She rubbed her arms and shivered.
He slipped his flight jacket from his shoulder and removed the revolver, which he placed inside his tunic. “Put this on,” he said, handing her the jacket. “The temperature has dropped.”
“But you’ll be cold.”
“I’m fine, really. Besides, I have my sling to keep me warm.”
“All right.” She slipped on his jacket. “Thank you.”
He glanced outside to the empty dirt road, illuminated by moonlight. “So, how did you and Lucette come to join the ambulance corps?”
“It’s a long story.”
“It’s quite all right,” he said. “I’d like to hear it, assuming you are willing to tell me.”
“Okay.” She paused, raising the zipper on the jacket. “My cousin, Marceau, joined the French Army before the conflict. While we were growing up, he spent several summers working on my family’s orchard in Maine. We were close—more like siblings than cousins.”
A dreadful feeling settled into his gut.
Ruth lowered her head. “Marceau was stationed at the Maginot Line. He was killed in the Saar Offensive, near Saarbrücken, Germany. His body was never recovered.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.” She drew a deep breath and exhaled, as if she were trying to bury the memory. “After the news about Marceau, I lost my desire for music, and I wanted to honor his death by serving France. So, when I heard that women were being recruited by the French Army to drive ambulances, I worked my way into the corps.”
“And Lucette came with you.”
“Yes. Her fiancé, Paul, is serving as a tank commander. Like him, she wanted to support France and make a difference in the war.”
“You both are.” He looked at Ruth. “Marceau would be proud of you.”
“You really think so?”
“I do.”
She rubbed her eyes, then slipped her hands into the pockets of the flight jacket. She paused, peeking through the ajar door. “May I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“What’s in the right pocket of your jacket?”
“A good luck charm,” he said. “Pilots are a superstitious bunch. Most of us carry a charm, trinket, or medallion. Mine is a bit unique. You’re welcome to have a look.”
Ruth slipped it from the pocket and held it under a beam of pale moonlight that was cast over the floor. “It looks like a tiny stuffed pig.”
“Piglet,” he said. “It’s a gift from Nora. She was—and still is—quite a fan of the children’s book Winnie-the-Pooh.”
“It’s a splendid story.” She ran a thumb over Piglet’s head. “He brought you good fortune today.”
“I suppose he did, if you believe in that sort of thing.”
“I do. While growing up, I had a horseshoe mounted over the doorway to my room, and my parents kept a barnstar on the front of the cider house.” She tilted her head. “Do you believe objects can bring people good luck?”
Jimmie ran a hand over his hair. “I think that a charm can represent different things to different people—good luck, safe travel, protection, and to ward against evil. But to me, this toy represents hope.”
She looked at him. “What kind of hope?”
“A dream of a better future, and a belief that anything can be accomplished through perseverance and optimism.” He patted Piglet. “That little guy got my sister through the worst of times, and with me going off to war, she thought that he could do the same for me.”
Her eyes softened. She slipped the stuffed toy back inside the jacket pocket. “Do you mind telling me about Nora?”
“Not at all. She—”
The ground vibrated.
Ruth’s eyes widened, and she got to her feet.
