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Frangie climbs into the backseat as the driver slides behind the wheel. Walter seems momentarily frozen—he would ordinarily ride shotgun. But then it will be much harder to talk with Frangie. On the other hand, sitting with her in the back will be obvious. His people will look and will know that their sergeant has a personal interest in the medic. They may even decide that Sergeant Walter “Professor” Green—known affectionately by his troops as “Shucks” for his most extreme curse word, and in less affectionate moments as “Sergeant YMCA” for his insistence on physical fitness—is actually human.

“We’re not even in the same unit,” Walter mutters before climbing into the back. It’s hard to read much emotion from the back of a person’s head, but Frangie is pretty sure that Corporal Penn is simultaneously amazed and appalled.

They set off down a road that was probably very nice before being torn up by the tanks of two armies, but is still smoother than the forest tracks Frangie has been accustomed to.

They chat in voices meant not to be overheard by Corporal Penn, who will dutifully report every last word to the rest of Green’s platoon.

Walter lives in a town called Davenport.

“Like a sofa?”

“Well . . . yes.” He frowns. “It’s a nice little city, actually, right on the river.”

“The river?”

“The Mississippi.” He smiles wistfully. “Yes, I think after this war Davenport will really take off. It’s right across the river from Rock Island, and they have a college over there. Lutherans. I don’t suppose you’re . . .” He trails off.

“No,” she says. “I’m not Lutheran.”

“But they take everyone. They don’t just . . . and there’s a seminary, but mostly it’s a college. Where anyone. Could. Um. Get a . . .” Walter is having a hard time finishing his thought, because he’s only just realized that he is essentially talking as if Frangie might be living in Davenport, Iowa. “So, um . . . Anyway, I hear it’s a good school. For. College.”

“Is that where you went to college, Walter?”

“No, I went to Iowa State, over in Ames.”

He’s staring fixedly ahead, and Frangie is both enjoying his embarrassment and feeling a giddy, stomach-churning, blood-pumping sort of . . . what? Anticipation?

“You think I should go to college?”

He turns to her, brow furrowed. “Well, you have to if you want to go on to medical school.”

“And you think I should . . .”

“Well, you said you . . .”

“Not all men think women should do things like that.”

“Who wouldn’t want to be married to a doctor?” At which point Sergeant Walter Green emits a sound a bit like a startled goat. His eyes widen behind his spectacles. “I . . . I didn’t . . . Just that . . .” He takes off his glasses and runs his hand over his face then back over his head. It’s quite chilly, springtime chilly, but beads of sweat appear on his forehead.

He has asked nothing. And his current state of mental collapse leaves Frangie wondering if he might have a stroke if he ever does get around to asking.

But she is not one to talk because her own brain feels like a milkshake machine on the highest setting. And she is acutely aware that the back of Corporal Penn’s head is straining every nerve to anticipate her reaction. Her reaction is what set off the milkshake machine, because her immediate, instinctive reaction had come in the form of a single unspoken word.

Yes.

She must choose her next words carefully. “Davenport, Iowa, sounds very nice. Perhaps I will get a chance to see it someday.”

The back of Corporal Penn’s head likes that. And Walter Green appears to have suffered the stroke she’d worried about.

The column passes an intersection where they come across a smaller detachment of troops, a deuce-and-a-half, an ambulance, and a jeep. The smaller detachment waits, soldiers standing around, smoking. A woman captain stands a little apart.

“I know her!” Frangie says. “Can you pull over?”

Captain Rainy Schulterman does not smile as Frangie climbs out of the jeep, and for a moment Frangie wonders if she is committing some grave act of military discourtesy. She salutes, and Rainy returns the gesture automatically.

“Good,” Rainy says. “We could use another medic.”

“Captain?”