Wait (Beloved Bloody Time) Read Online Free

himself, instead of her having to thrust it into his hand.
    She brushed the unlikely confetti off the top of her nurse’s cap and shook out her veil, then picked out her next victim. The small, dark-haired man was clearly of Italian descent, like so many New York citizens. She began to smile at him, but then her gaze was pulled toward the very blond hair of the man behind him. Blond hair...tall...his gaze was steady upon her. Frank and...happy.
    Christian Hamilton.
    She pressed her hand to her mouth, hiding her delight for he was supposed to be a stranger to her, in this life. But she held his gaze as he approached. She couldn’t smile.
    Her mind raced. How could she speak to him? Among the millions of people lining Fifth Avenue, and the thousands of soldiers marching along it, how could two passing strangers legitimately decide to seek each other out among the millions?
    With each step he drew nearer. Time was against her. She couldn’t think.
    He reached for the flower, his gaze under the brim of his helmet steady. His hand curled around the stem, brushing her fingers.
    One more step. He was level with her now. In a few seconds he would have passed her by.
    Then he leaned a few inches toward her. “The Astoria,” he murmured. Anyone around them would not have heard it. It was far too noisy, with the cheering, the stomp of marching men, and the clop of horses from the cavalry units. Christian had not lifted his voice, but she heard him perfectly.
    Then he had taken the next step and moved past her.
    Natália made herself not turn her head to track him as he moved on. She took a few seconds, staring blindly at the pavement, then forced herself to lift her head and find another victim for her flowers. There were many more soldiers beside the one that had just passed her and it was her duty to welcome them all home.
    The day suddenly seemed brighter.
    * * * * *
    Christian spotted the honey gold of her hair from across the crowded restaurant. She had removed the veil and cap. Her back was to him. “Never mind,” he told the waiter. “I see her now, thank you.”
    “Not at all, Captain,” the waiter told him. “Welcome home.”
    “Thank you.”
    He made his way over to Natália’s table and stopped by her side and drew a breath for courage. “Hello.”
    She looked up from the book she was reading and put her tea cup down. Then she smiled and the expression made her rich brown eyes seem warm and welcoming. “You found me.” She closed the book and waved toward the chair on the other side of the tiny table. “Please, sit down.”
    He folded his cap and put it in his coat pocket, then sat. He checked the level of the tea. It was half-empty. Puzzled, he glanced at her, then back at the cup.
    She smiled and let her gaze flicker toward the potted palm that separated their table from the next. The soil was damp. That was where she was draining it.
    “Would you like a cup of tea?” she asked, reaching for the pot. “It’s still hot.” She was still wearing the nurse’s uniform, with the starched white apron and the little red cross in the center of it. The grey-blue dress beneath was prim and neat, as were her shoes.
    She poured him a cup, and he made a fuss of adding sugar and cream from the little dispenser.
    “It’s so very good to see you,” she said. “I thought you might have been caught up in the war in the east.”
    He pretended to sip the tea. “I left Japan nearly ten years ago, so no.  I was in Norway while Europe was in the war and I could see America being pulled in, so I came back to enlist. I got back here a week before the Zimmerman telegraph became news. I’ve been decommissioned as of this morning.”
    He looked at the cap and veil that lay neatly folded on the third chair at the table. “You did your part, too, I see.”
    She glanced around the restaurant. It was busy, as the Astoria usually was, but most tables were involved in their own conversation. She leaned forward anyway, which put