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Memory Between Us, A: A Novel (Wings of Glory)
by Sarah Sundin

Published: 2010-09-01
Paperback : 439 pages
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Can they overcome the past to find a brighter future together?

Major Jack Novak has never failed to meet a challenge--until he meets army nurse Lieutenant Ruth Doherty. When Jack lands in the army hospital after a plane crash, he makes winning Ruth's heart a top priority mission. But he ...

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Introduction

Can they overcome the past to find a brighter future together?

Major Jack Novak has never failed to meet a challenge--until he meets army nurse Lieutenant Ruth Doherty. When Jack lands in the army hospital after a plane crash, he makes winning Ruth's heart a top priority mission. But he has his work cut out for him. Not only is Ruth focused on her work in order to support her orphaned siblings back home, she carries a shameful secret that keeps her from giving her heart to any man. Can Jack break down her defenses? Or are they destined to go their separate ways? A Memory Between Us is the second book in the WINGS OF GLORY series, which follows the three Novak brothers, B-17 bomber pilots with the US Eighth Air Force stationed in England during World War II.

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Excerpt

2nd Evacuation Hospital; Diddington,
Huntingdonshire, England
March 3, 1943

Lt. Penelope Ruth Doherty braced open the window and
drank in cool air to settle her stomach. “There, gentlemen.
Isn’t it nice to have fresh air in here?”

In the bed next to the window, Lieutenant Lumley snorted.
“Ma’am, I’m from Arizona. To me, this soggy English air is
more lethal than Nazi bullets.”

Ruth smiled at her patient, who had broken an ankle when
his P-38 Lightning crashed on landing. “Good air circulation
is important for wound healing.” And for clearing the
nauseating smell of breakfast sausage from the tin can of a
ward.

“Say, Red, you know what would heal my wounds?” The
new patient, Lieutenant Holmes, pointed to his lips and
dropped Ruth a wink.

Ruth gave him a sweet smile. “You’d like another dose of
castor oil?”

“And it’s Lieutenant Doherty to you.” Ruth’s medic, Technical
Sergeant Giovanni, set his supply tray next to Lieutenant
Holmes’s bed. “Now, time to swab your wounds.” A German
shell had filled the navigator’s back with shrapnel.

“Besides, her hair is more auburn than red.” Lieutenant
Lumley’s gaze had a softer cast than usual. Thank goodness,
he was due to be discharged.

“I’ll be back with the morning meds.” Ruth passed one of
the potbellied coal stoves in the aisle.

“Ouch!” Lieutenant Holmes cried out.

“Whatza matter? Does it sting the widdle baby?” Sergeant
Giovanni’s voice oozed fake sympathy.

“Better not be iodine. Makes my throat swell up something
fierce.”

Ruth’s feet stopped along with her heart, and she slowly
turned to her medic. Sergeant Giovanni’s burly face stretched
long in horror. Of course he was using iodine.

Anaphylaxis. She needed to act quickly without alerting
her patient, keep a level head, and control her emotions
as she had been trained. Panic would make his condition
worse.

She returned to Lieutenant Holmes’s bed and put on her
cheeriest smile and voice. “What would feel good on those
wounds would be a nice rinse with cool water. Sergeant,
would you please fetch Dr. Sinclair? I’d like to discuss Lieutenant
Lumley’s discharge with him.” She locked her gaze
on her medic. “Now,” she mouthed.

“Sure thing, boss.” The sergeant strode for the door.
Ruth grabbed towels from the drawer in the bedside table
and braced them on either side of her patient’s torso, and then
gently poured water over the brown stains and dabbed them
with another towel. Too late, but she wanted to reduce the
amount of iodine in the poor man’s system. “Now, doesn’t
that feel nice?”

“I’d rather have a kiss.”

“And I’d rather have a million dollars, but neither is going
to happen.”

“I don’t know about that. I can feel that kiss already. My
lips are all tingly.”

Ruth’s hand tightened on the towel. He was going into
anaphylaxis, but where was Dr. Sinclair? Only he could give
the adrenaline needed to save this man’s life. “Excuse me.
I’ll be right back.”

At a fast clip, Ruth went to the medication room, where
Lt. Harriet Marshall was completing her narcotic count from
the end of her night shift. “Excuse me. I need to get some
adrenaline and morphine. Lieutenant Holmes is going into
anaphylaxis.”

Harriet’s elfin face blanched. “Oh no. Thank goodness
Dr. Sinclair is on the ward.”

“Not yet.” Ruth grabbed a tray and put two sterilized syringes
on top.

“So—so why are you already getting the meds?”
“I want to be ready when he comes. I can’t waste any time.”
One vial of adrenaline.

“But he hasn’t ordered them yet.”

Ruth leveled a look at the girl. “I know the treatment for
anaphylaxis.”

“That—that’s presumptuous of you. You’ll make the doctor
angry.”

Ruth pulled a vial of morphine. “I don’t care about the
doctor’s feelings; I care about my patient’s life.” She ignored
Harriet’s gasp and returned to Lieutenant Holmes’s bedside.
He stared up at her with wild eyes. “My throat—it itches,
it’s swelling up. Was that iodine?”

“Yes, sir, it was, but Dr. Sinclair is on his way.” She gave
him her most soothing smile. “Now, let’s get you in a more
comfortable position.” Ruth patted his back dry and helped
him roll over.

Lieutenant Holmes clawed at his throat. “I can’t—I can’t
breathe.” Red hives dotted his fair skin.

“Sure, you can breathe. Stay very calm. Very calm, and think
about something else. Where are you from, Lieutenant?”
“New—Hampshire.” His chest heaved out the words.
Ruth filled a syringe with adrenaline. “So you’re used to
this cold weather, unlike Arizona over there. Me too. I’m from
Chicago. In fact, this must feel warm and balmy to you.”
The patient’s only response was a series of raspy, labored
breaths. Where on earth was that doctor? “Lord, help me,”
she whispered.

Ruth pulled up a dose of morphine and chattered about
the way the snow filled the streets of her slum and made
them look clean for a change, until the thaw made them
look worse than ever. But as Lieutenant Holmes gasped for
air, all she could see were Pa’s last breaths as the blood clot
settled in his lungs and Ma’s wheezes as she wasted away
with pneumonia.

As a nursing student, she couldn’t help her parents, and
now as a nurse, she couldn’t help this young man. She glanced
at the clock on the wall. If Dr. Sinclair didn’t come in the next
sixty seconds, she’d give the adrenaline herself.
And lose her position? As the oldest of seven, she had a
responsibility to her brothers and sisters. How could they
get by without her support?

Images of those beloved faces swam before her—her purpose,
her joy. Why did it always have to be this way? Why
did she have to choose between doing the right thing and
protecting her family?

Dr. Sinclair burst through the door, his white lab coat flying,
and Ruth let out a deep sigh.

“Lieutenant Doherty, get me some adrenaline.”

“Right here, sir.” She handed him the syringe.

He stared at it. “Three two-hundredths of a grain?”
“Yes, sir.”

His jaw jutted forward, but he administered the dose and
followed it with morphine.

Within the course of an hour, they had stabilized Lieutenant
Holmes. Ruth cleansed his wounds, replaced his dressings,
and changed the wet bedding. Then she took the empty
syringes and vials back to the medication room, where she
dropped the syringes into a pan filled with blue green bichloride
of mercury solution.

“I suppose I should be mad at you.” Dr. Sinclair leaned
his tall frame against the open door.

Ruth shook the pan until the syringes were submerged.
“My job is to care for the patient.”

“And to anticipate my needs. I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be. I know proper treatment.”

“You should have been a physician.”

Ruth shook her head. If he only knew what she had to do to
scrape up money for nursing school. “Too smart for that.”
His chuckles drew nearer, and Ruth stiffened. She didn’t
feel like fending off another pass from this man.
“I know this great restaurant—”

Ruth turned and glared at him. “How would your wife
feel if she heard you talk like this?”

Dr. Sinclair lifted one salt-and-pepper eyebrow. “Come
on, Ruth. There’s a war on. All the rules have changed. Besides,
you talk one way, but I see it in your eyes. You’re just
like me.”

Ruth clamped her teeth together. “No, sir. I’m not.”
“Heart of iron.” He thumped his fist on his chest. “You
have one too.”

She stared into his chilly blue eyes, and the cold seeped
down to her toes. How did he get so close to the truth? Long
ago she’d clamped an iron shell around her heart and nothing
and no one could pry it loose, but deep inside, the tender
flesh still beat.

“Come on, Ruth.” His gaze settled on her mouth. “Just
one kiss. I can’t resist those lips one day longer. You must
be a great kisser.”

Her insides shrank into a squirming mass. She had listened
to Eddie Reynolds when he told her she was the best kisser in
the whole eighth grade, with that great boyish grin and that
sheet of brown hair flopping over one eye, but she would not
listen to this poor excuse for a physician.

Dr. Sinclair put his hand on her waist.

Ruth’s lungs collapsed under the weight of memories. She
slapped away his arm. “Don’t touch me. Don’t ever touch
me.”

“Oh, come on—”

Ruth shouldered past him and out onto the ward. Her
breath returned in little bursts, and white sparkles appeared
before her eyes. She made her way down the long semicylinder
of the ward. “Sergeant Giovanni, I need—I need a
short break. I’ll be right back.”

“Good time to do it while the doc’s here.”

Ruth grabbed her blue cape from the hook by the front
door and stepped outside. After she swung her cape around
her shoulders, she braced her hands on her knees and forced
slow, even breaths.

She couldn’t work with Dr. Sinclair, but what could she do?
Should she talk to the chief nurse? Would it do any good?
Ruth straightened up. Her vision was clear and so was her
course of action. A discreet talk with the chief and a transfer
to another ward. She just needed to get away.

She marched down the muddy road flanked by the corrugated
tin Nissen huts that served as wards and into the
administration building. Lt. Vera Benson’s door stood open,
and Ruth stepped inside.

The chief nurse held a phone to her ear. Ruth backed up to
exit, but Lieutenant Benson motioned for her to sit down.
“I’m so sorry, Agnes. Already? Three nurses PWOP?” She
arched a strawberry blonde eyebrow at Ruth.

Pregnant Without Permission—the easiest way for a nurse
to be relieved from her commitment to the military.

“Yes, that does create a problem. I’ll see what I can do.
We don’t have our full contingent of nurses here either, but
I’ll talk to the girls.”

Lieutenant Benson hung up the phone. “Now, how can I
help you, Lieutenant Doherty?”

“Was that another hos—I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”
Lieutenant Benson tilted her head and smiled. “I invited
you to eavesdrop, and yes, it’s our business. The 12th Evac
is setting up in Suffolk. Horribly short-staffed. Even more
so than we are.”

“I’ll transfer, ma’am.”

The chief tilted her head in the other direction. “Excuse
me?”

A smile floated up Ruth’s face. How often did a solution
come so quickly, so neatly? If she didn’t know better, she’d
think God was on her side. “Please, ma’am. A transfer is
just what I need.”
... view entire excerpt...

Discussion Questions

1 Deep inside, most women wish they were beautiful. How is Ruth’s beauty a blessing and how is it a curse?

2 Jack is a natural leader. Is his desire for a promotion good or bad? How does his ambition change throughout the story? How are Jack Novak and Jeff Babcock alike and different?

3 The Eighth Air Force took heavy losses before fighter escort was available all the way to the targets. On Aug. 17, 1943, they lost 60 of 376 bombers, and on “Black Thursday,” October 14, 1943, they lost 60 of 320 over Schweinfurt, with ten men on each plane. How did those young men deal with such staggering losses? How do you think Americans of today would deal with the same circumstances?

4 Although Jack has no desire to be a pastor, he pushes for that goal. Why do you think he does so? Have you ever tried to fill a role you weren’t cut out for?

5 Ruth feels a great responsibility for her family. What circumstances in her life factor into this? How does Aunt Pauline manage to manipulate Ruth? What does Ruth have to learn before she can stand up to her aunt?

6 Five hundred women served as flight nurses during World War II, and seventeen were killed in action. Considering the role of women at the time, flight nurses were pioneers in many ways. What ways do you see?

7 Why do you think Jack reacts the way he does when he discovers Ruth’s secret? Why does May react so differently? What was your gut reaction to Ruth’s secret?

8 At the beginning of the story, Ruth says she doesn’t need friends. Is she telling the truth? Why does she reject female friends? Ruth also deals with cattiness and gossip among her fellow nurses. Why do you think female relationships, which can be so close and supportive, can veer in the opposite direction?

9 At the beginning of the story, Jack and Charlie are content in their roles as hero and sidekick. What changes in their lives cause growing friction? How does their friendship change throughout the story?

10 Ruth doesn’t trust God because of the bad things that have happened to her. Have you ever felt like that? Do you tend to pray for God to take you out of “the valley of the shadow of death,” or to be with you in the valley? How does Ruth learn to trust God?

11 Jack sees Ruth as wearing a “cloak of shame.” How does shame weigh Ruth down? How does she learn to throw off her shame, and how does this change her life? Have you ever felt the burden of shame? What have you learned about how to deal with it?

12 Jack comes to see pride as his root problem. How is this manifested in Jack’s life? In your life do you struggle with pride? In general, what role does pride play in sin?

Notes From the Author to the Bookclub

Note from author Sarah Sundin:

Dear Reader,

Ever meet someone who has everything—looks, brains, personality, and drive—and wonder if they’ve ever encountered something they couldn’t handle? Major Jack Novak, the hero of A Memory Between Us, serves as a B-17 pilot in World War II—and he’s one of those men. He was the annoyingly gifted older brother of the hero of my first novel, A Distant Melody, and I wanted to shake up his world. So I did. I introduced him to Lt. Ruth Doherty, a striking Army nurse with a secret. Sparks flew when these characters came together. When I wrote this novel, often I felt like an onlooker transcribing a scene before me. This novel was fun to write, but also emotionally difficult as Jack and Ruth confronted their greatest fears, dealt with deep shame, and wrestled with personal pride.

Come travel with Jack and Ruth through the charming streets of English villages, through some of the most harrowing air battles of World War II, through the challenges nurses faced while pioneering air evacuation, and through growth in friendship, love, and trust in the Lord.

Writing for Him, Sarah Sundin

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