A Soldier’s Vow- Excerpt (2)

Hi everyone!

Here’s an excerpt of my historical romance set in WWI Paris. Please feel free to share and comment.

Enjoy!

Jackie

Just before dawn, Henry came back from night patrol, exhausted and hungry. Once again, he succeeded in gathering vital information. Light drizzle fell on him as he searched for Lieutenant Cooper.

“The enemy is falling back again towards the Belgian border, sir,” he gave his commanding officer his notepad filled with sketches and other vital information he wrote down about the enemy during the night.

“Good work, Whitfield,” Lieutenant Cooper said, patting him on the shoulder. “Go eat something then get some rest.”

“Yes sir,” he said, nodding and heading towards the camp behind the frontline trenches.

With each passing day, rations became scarce. He wondered what the cook had prepared as he entered the quiet mess tent. Canadian troops depended on the Brits to bring them what they needed since the Canadians were under British command.

As he ate a piece of dry and tasteless bread and drank a cup of bitter coffee, Henry stood at the entrance of the tent and watched an army truck roll in. It had arrived on time according to his watch. With it came the usual journalists and photographers, taking whatever information or pictures were needed for the people on the home front. They had no idea what kind of life the soldiers led in this bloody war.

He saw the civilians disembark from the back of the truck, dressed in borrowed brown army fatigues. Shock and amazement filled their eyes. He shook his head upon seeing these people. They stood in awe of their surroundings, unaware of what had really happened here. It was only a rest camp, not the Ritz. He groaned, taking one last look at the group of male civilians before heading inside the kitchen tent and eating another piece of bread or whatever else the cook concocted.

Emerging from the small group, he saw a flame-haired angel sent from the heavens above. He blinked his tired eyes. He never thought he’s see a woman in this place. Except for the nurses at the hospital, he had only seen men coming to the front. This young woman was certainly not a nurse. Why in bloody hell did they let her come up here?

With her shoulders back, she stood amongst the men with confidence, carrying a portable camera hanging around her neck on a long leather strap. René Sinclair, the young journalist from L’Étoile de la Paix accompanied her. Henry had never seen her before because he recognised everyone else in the group. He shook his head not understanding why they had allowed a female civilian so close to the front. Danger lurked everywhere.

He took one more glance at her. She took his breath away.

He felt an immediate stirring in the pit of his stomach descending toward his groan. Feelings like this had not been known to him in a very long time. He raked a hand through his dirty hair. Taking a step forward, he took a closer look at the woman who utterly mesmerized him. Curiosity and general horniness made him act like a schoolboy. He must see who suddenly made his hormones overrule his head and his hunger.

Her long auburn hair, pulled back with a green satin ribbon, shone like fire in the bright morning sun. He thought of untying her hair and running his hands through the thick mass. He shook his head, chasing away the desire for this beautiful creature. Beneath her oversized army fatigues, he distinguished her feminine curves and high round breasts.

He groaned once more before turning on his heels to escape this fantasy or before his desire drove him mad. A woman like her only existed in his dreams, and he’d never see her again after that morning. He closed his eyes and then took one more look at her before walking away.

In a flash, a feeling as if he knew her from somewhere overtook him. He could swear he’d seen her face before.

Suddenly, a daydream drifted across his mind and he shook his head. It couldn’t be. The woman of his dreams stood a short distance away. A light breeze swirled around them, bringing a hint of lavender to his nose, a heavenly scent. Around here, they smelled mud and death everyday, never the soft scent of a woman.

“Sergeant Whitfield!” Lieutenant Cooper called from behind him, interrupting his reverie. “Please come here.”

The group stood near the officer and each held a notepad in hand and listened with attention to every word the commanding officer said. Henry turned around and walked towards the group. “You needed me, sir?”

“Come. Please tell our guests here about your night patrols.”

He wondered what purpose it would serve the people back home. Of course he bit his tongue and didn’t question his officer’s decision outright. “There isn’t much to say, sir,” he finally said. He looked at Lieutenant Cooper and at each and every one in the group.

They looked back at him with their full attention.

Up close, he found the woman even more beautiful. She wore small round silver spectacles, but they only added to her beauty. He wondered what she looked like without them and with her long hair cascading down her heart-shaped face. He shook his head, concentrating on the present. Their eyes met and his heart skipped a beat while he felt his groin tighten against his jersey trousers. He found himself staring at her. This woman possessed similar traits to the one in his dreams. Yet, she felt so real. He couldn’t shake the feeling she stirred within him.

“Our boy is much too humble,” the lieutenant said with a hint of pride.

Henry knew he had to say something, anything. He looked at each one of them, and then his eyes stopped on the young woman. She looked back at him with her deep green eyes and a smile that made him weak all over. He felt his mouth dry, no words came out.

“Tell us, Sergeant Whitfield. How did your night patrol go? Is the enemy retreating, sir?” She spoke with an American accent; New York, he gauged from his few trips to the American city. Her voice sounded like a sweet melody to his ears.

He cleared his voice before saying, “Yes. Indeed. On my night patrol, I’ve noticed some unusual activity within the enemy’s trenches.” Henry looked at the other members of the group and continued, “Our efforts in the last few weeks have paid off. And if our information is correct, the enemy should retreat again soon.” He saw hope in their eyes. When his eyes met her emerald ones, he saw something else. What kind of tricks were his eyes playing on him?

The group cheered and wrote Sergeant Whitfield’s words on their notepads while Winnie adjusted her camera and took his photographs. Despite the dirt on his face and the dark circles under his deep blue eyes, she caught herself staring at him a few times while he explained his account .