Healing Tides
Lois Richer
The moment GloryAnn Cranbrook met her new patient at the children's clinic, she broke a rule by getting attached.But at least she felt something, unlike her handsome boss, Dr. Jared Steele. The man who'd once cared enough to open the clinic now refused to perform the technique he'd become famous for. The technique that could save the boy's life. Why? And could GloryAnn–and the child who needed them both–change his stubborn mind?
Healing Tides
Lois Richer
For the lovely ladies of Glaslyn whose generous
spirits washed over me like a healing tide.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Epilogue
Chapter One
Once he’d written up the charts and the nursing shift had changed, the hospital settled down to its usual midnight calm.
The drag of an overfull day sucked at his energy, but Dr. Jared Steele kept pushing himself to stay awake, kept looking for some sign that their newest patient, a young boy from Venezuela, would make it.
Joy to the world.
The carol poured from the caretaker’s radio down the hall.
Christmas—it used to be such a happy time. That last one, Diana had dressed Nicholas up like Santa’s elf—
He slammed the door closed on the thought, forced his mind to blank out the pain.
At three o’clock one of the nurses brought a fax from Elizabeth Wisdom.
Sending you help. Best there is. Don’t spoil it. E
He shoved the paper in his pocket, stifled the epithet that rose up his throat. Do-gooders who thought life in Hawaii would be little more than a beach vacation. Doubtful this one would last three months—like the others.
Jared leaned back in the chair, stretched his legs in front and began rotating his head, trying to ease out the crick in his neck. The boy awoke, watched him.
Jared checked to see if the nurses were around. They weren’t. He reached out, picked up the boy’s hand. Steady pulse. Good.
“Hey, champ,” he whispered. “You’re hanging in there. You keep doing your part and I’ll do mine, okay?”
The solemn gray eyes blinked.
“Not much of a Christmas for you, is it?”
No response.
“I know how you feel.” He rubbed his thumb back and forth over the baby-smooth skin, reminded of another child, one who’d been stolen from him. “Close your eyes and relax. It’s okay. I’m here. I’ll take care of you.”
He kept talking and eventually the boy’s lashless lids drooped, his chest moved in a smooth even rhythm. But Jared didn’t leave and he didn’t go to sleep. And when the boy flatlined he was there to begin resuscitation immediately.
“Don’t die on me,” he whispered as he pressed the thin chest repeatedly. “Too many have gone already. You have to live.”
The heartbeat fluttered back.
“That’s right. You can do it. Come on.”
But as the dark night grew chilly and shadows moved outside, Jared recognized the signs of his own powerlessness and chafed against it.
“Don’t go,” he begged. “The world needs kids like you to make it better.” But the boy remained comatose. At four-fifteen the little life began slipping away.
Jared forced the prayer from his heart.
“Don’t take him. He’s just a kid. His parents have only him.” The heart monitor stumbled, came back slower, less responsive. Bitterness welled in a wave so large he could hardly swallow past it.
“You have Nicholas,” he said. “Isn’t my son enough?”
No answer.
Jared dredged up long-forgotten training, coaxing the frail body to call upon its last resources. By six o’clock he was able to hand over to his assistant, assured that for now, the child would live.
He walked out of the mission to the rocky precipice that overlooked the silver-gilt ocean and watched the flickering rays of sun smear the morning sky crimson. In the caverns of his mind Jared heard a squeaky little voice he hadn’t heard in three years.
A voice silenced by a madman.
“Look, Daddy, a boat on Christmas morning. Is it Santa Claus?”
“Why?” he whispered, heart squeezing in misery.
The sun ascended. Humanity awoke. Around the world people were opening their gifts, laughing, loving. But inside Jared’s soul lay a barrenness that yearned for answers.
Heaven remained mute.
Two days later
“It’s a mission. A hospital for burned children. It’s called Agapé and it’s in Hawaii.”
Dr. GloryAnn Cranbrook struggled to absorb the information. She’d known Elizabeth Wisdom for ten years and never once had she heard anything about a mission. Just how many projects did Elizabeth and her foundation have?
“Hawaii?” she repeated, uncertain she’d heard correctly.
“Oahu.” Elizabeth’s dreamy smile hinted at fond memories. “I was asked to sit on the board of Agapé many years ago by—a relative.”
So Elizabeth was connected to the mission. But Glory knew a lot about The Wisdom Foundation and she knew Elizabeth had no siblings, so this mystery relative was intriguing.
“Agapé has been internationally recognized for its work with injured children.” Sixty-plus years hadn’t left a mark on Elizabeth’s clear skin. “Our mission boasts the latest in equipment, specialized staff, and with Dr. Steele’s new grafting procedure, the latest treatment for burned children. Your job would involve working with him as on-staff pediatrician. For six months.”
“I did spend a large part of my internship on burn wards,” GloryAnn admitted. “I also spent a year studying the psychological effects of physical damage as it impacts a burn victim.”
“Because of your mother.” Elizabeth’s austere face softened.
“Yes. She suffered greatly.” Her chest constricted with the ache of loss. “She was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
Elizabeth touched her shoulder, brown eyes melting with sympathy.
“I know you promised her you’d go back to the Arctic, to the Inuit.”
“I have to.” GloryAnn knew Elizabeth would understand.
“Of course. But I understand there is now a temporary doctor servicing your village. If you could delay your return by six months, to help the children at Agapé, I’d really appreciate it. Only until I can find a successor.”
GloryAnn took a deep breath. There was only one response she could make.
“If that’s what you need, Elizabeth, I’m more than happy to go.”
“I had no intention of asking you so soon, but—”
GloryAnn leaned forward, covered the long thin fingers with her own.
“You and your foundation gave me back my dream, paid for me to continue at medical school after Dad died, when there was no possible way I could have gone on. I can never repay you for that.” She smiled at her benefactor, squeezed her arm. “I’ll be happy if I can pass on even a portion of the generosity you’ve shown me.”
“Dear Glory. Thank you so much.” Elizabeth enveloped her in a hug perfumed with her favored jasmine. “Of all the women I’ve selected for scholarships, you’ve seemed the most like my daughter. I promise you won’t regret this decision. In fact, I’m praying that God will use you to do great things at Agapé.”
“I don’t care about great things. I just want to do His will, to make a difference wherever He sends me,” GloryAnn murmured softly.
“And you will, my dear. I know it.”
Elizabeth smiled with a confidence GloryAnn envied.
So this was what paradise looked like in January.
“We are almost there, miss,” the driver told her.
“Thank you.”
GloryAnn peered out the window, trying to get a better look at her new home. She caught the tiniest glimpse of the Pacific through a labyrinth of volcanic slopes. Honolulu’s lights had long since disappeared, leaving polka dots of brightness sprinkled across the surrounding countryside.
The car swung hard to the left. GloryAnn clung to her seat with both hands, hardly daring to breathe as they sped along the winding road. Apparently her driver knew only two ways of driving—fast and faster.
Never in a million years would Glory have guessed she’d be living in Hawaii, even for six months. But how could she refuse Elizabeth’s gentle request when the same woman had come to her rescue after her father had died. His death had left her with barely enough funds to pay back the loan he’d borrowed against his life insurance for her first year’s tuition money. Elizabeth had been a mentor, a friend and, as it turned out, the only reason Glory had been able to complete her education.
This was Glory’s opportunity to pass on Elizabeth’s generosity.
A two-story white stucco building perched ahead of them gleamed in the moonlight. It was fronted by a big sign: Agapé. The letters looked as if a child had written them. Underneath, For the Keiki. For the Children.
The sweet, heady fragrance of bougainvillea wafted in, carried by a soft sea breeze that ruffled the American flag fluttering high above the building. Bright driveway lights chased away the shadows. Behind the building Glory saw intermittent red-and-white flashes burst into the sky.
“What’s that?” she asked the driver.
“Life Flight. Helicopter. They bring the little ones.”
Probably not the best time to arrive. The driver opened the door and held it as Glory got out of the car.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“Mahalo.”
She stood for a moment to soak up the sound of swaying palms, pounding surf and whisper-wind.
Aloha, Hawaii.
She followed the driver toward the big glass door.
Inside, the mission was bustling.
“Incoming, Dr. Steele.” A woman in a crisp white uniform pulled a cart filled with supplies from a room behind the counter.
“I heard.” A tall lean man appeared, short-cropped hair tousled, pale-blue eyes narrowed in concentration. He flung a chart onto the counter, settled his stethoscope around his neck as he moved. He paused in front of Glory.
“Who are you?”
“Dr. GloryAnn Cranbrook. Elizabeth Wisdom sent me.”
“About time.” He didn’t bother with introductions but strode down the hall and out a door without a second glance.
“I’m Leilani Maku.” The nurse offered a harried smile. “Welcome to Agapé, Doctor. Do you want me to—”
“Go. I’ll follow.” Glory grabbed a white coat off a hanger.
The driver had already left. Her luggage was still in the car but the helicopter’s rasping rotors told her there was no time to think about that now.
She hurried after the others, pushing through the door they’d left from. It led to a hallway, which in turn led to a helipad on one side, an emergency ward on the other. She pushed open the outside door and stepped into the night. Dr. Steele was already halfway across the tarmac.
Glory hurried forward.
“What’s been done, Leilani?”
His nurse checked her paperwork.
“The fax says they’ve been typed and matched. I’ve got a clean room set up for initial assessment. If we need more help, Dr. Sanguri is visiting his mother. He’s in the village but he can be here in ten minutes.”
“He’s an ob-gyn!” Dr. Steele exploded as he waited for the helicopter to land. “He’ll be no help.”
“He’s the only doctor near enough to pitch in immediately.”
“I’m here.” Glory stepped forward.
Leilani smiled, thanked her. Dr. Steele surveyed her from head to foot, his ice-blue eyes cold as any Arctic wind.
“I hope you can follow directions.”
Welcome to Hawaii.
Jared Steele had one hand on the door the moment the helicopter touched down.
“Hey, Doc.” A young pilot with a British accent jumped out, helped an accompanying nurse free two stretchers strapped inside. “Meet my friends, Tony and Joseph. Hang on, boys. Nurse Leilani will have you tucked up before you can say Bob’s your uncle.”
The lilt of his British accent lit up the boys’ eyes. Or maybe it was his quick smile.
“What happened?” Dr. Steele surveyed his patients.
“They were at an international kids’ event on Maui. Somebody thought it would be fun to douse their campfire with gasoline. The trip here didn’t do them any good.”
One glance at Dr. Steele’s face told Glory he saw what she did—the first child didn’t have much time.
“Leilani,” he ordered, “get another IV in if you can. Now.”
Leilani waved over attendants, who transferred the boy onto the waiting gurney. They hurried inside.
The second boy was wide-awake. Though he looked in pain, he managed to twist his head so he could watch the doctor who was studying his damaged face. Dr. Steele shook his head at the sacrilege, grabbed the edge of the stretcher and began to move.
“Clean room. Stat,” he ordered, his voice harsh.
The boy murmured something unintelligible. Dr. Steele glanced at the pilot who was trailing along beside him.
“I can’t understand him.”
“German. He wants to know if he’s going to die.”
“We’re all going to die.”
“That’s no answer.” The pilot’s lips pinched together in an angry line as the two men eased the front wheels of the rolling stretcher through the doors.
“Tell him whatever you like.” Dr. Steele glared at the pilot’s grip on his sleeve. “Don’t they teach you to move when you’re asked?”
“Yes, Doctor, they do. They also try to teach us a little human kindness. You should try that.”
“Finished?” They glared at each other like leashed pit bulls.
“Yeah, I am.”
“Then get out of my way.” Dr. Steele pushed the boy forward, his expression implacable.
Glory grabbed the exit door and held it open so the end of the bed wouldn’t jar. She followed doctor and patient to the clean room and began treatment automatically, wincing at the extent of the injury. No wonder Dr. Steele was angry.
“I need to see to the first fellow.” He rested a hand on the door. “Can you manage here?”
“Yes.” She glanced at him, recognized indecision on his face. “I’m fine. Go.”
The boy wept silently as Glory worked. The body’s ability to tolerate shock only lasted for so long. This one had just about maxed out.
“What did they give him?” she asked the nurse assisting her, mentally juggling protocols.
The nurse read from the chart that had accompanied the boy.
“Okay. Blood pressure’s still dropping. Let’s go about this in another way.” Glory issued new orders, kept one eye on the monitors and worked hard until the child’s vitals finally responded.
Working silently, she did what had to be done, but she couldn’t stop a tear from trickling down her face, over the mask she wore.
“Don’t move him for the next hour. Watch him and monitor everything. If nothing changes he can transfer to intensive care. Understand?” The nurse nodded. Glory stripped off her gloves and gown, stepped out of the room and headed for the first patient. “Anything I can do here?” she asked.
Dr. Steele looked up, frowned. “The other one?”
“Stable. Help or not?” she asked, waiting for his nod before she plunged her hands into the gloves held ready. “Where do you want me?”
He worked frantically, blasting out orders in a terse monotone. She matched her efforts to his. If something didn’t happen fast enough he called her on it bluntly.
Glory admired his grit. Lesser doctors might have given up after one code blue, but after three Dr. Steele continued to drive all of them to extraordinary lengths to save the life on the table. Several hours later the boy was finally stable.
For now.
“Okay, he’ll do. I want to see the other one now. Come with me,” he ordered, barely glancing at her.
“Certainly, Doctor.”
Leilani’s empathizing smile offered Glory a boost. She returned it then followed Dr. Steele.
“Chart,” he snapped at the hovering nurse in the next room.
While she waited, Glory completed another check of his vitals. The boy was doing well.
Hang on, she prayed silently. Just hang on.
“Why did you use that particular sedative?” Dr. Steele demanded suddenly.
“I did several rotations at Sick Kids in Toronto. Dr. Lang had a study going that indicated patients had more success with this drug.”
“Lang? Corbin Lang?”
She nodded.
“He’s good.” Dr. Steele closed the chart, handed it to a nurse. He touched the boy’s hand just for a moment then backed away. “It’ll take time, but right now this one looks like he might make it.”
“I hope so.” Glory completed one last check before following him to the doorway.
“Probably not the welcome you were expecting.”
“That doesn’t matter. I’m just glad I could be here to help. I’ll bet he was a cute kid before all this happened.”
His voice dropped so low she barely heard.
“They all were.” A moment later the hint of tenderness was gone. He was all business. “Would you like to look around the wards while you’re here?”
“Yes, if we won’t disturb anyone.”
“Most of them are asleep by now. If we could dispense with the tour tonight it would free up some of my time in the morning.”
“That’s fine by me. Are either of those new patients candidates for your grafting procedure?”
“No.” The clipped answer cut off conversation.
Dr. Jared Steele moved through the wings of the hospital quietly, using only the softest tones to point out the treatments currently in use and the effects of some newer therapies.
“Your success is much higher than standard hospital burn units.”
“That’s why we’re isolated like this. The infections and viral problems rampant in hospitals and so lethal to burned children don’t occur here. The climate is perfect for healing and we are able to concentrate on our specialty.”
“Yes.” She glanced around. “How many doctors on staff?”
“Supposed to be four plus me. Six counting you. They come and go.” A sideways glance told her he expected her to do the same. “We’re two short at the moment so we take turns rotating shifts. That way everyone gets a break. We don’t often get a flight this late but it happens.”
“I don’t suppose anyone can predict tragedy.”
“There are usually three doctors on call but Dr. Xavier left suddenly this morning—family emergency. Dr. Chatter and his wife left without notice a while ago, which is why we’re short. Dr. Potter fell ill this afternoon.”
“He has dreadful timing.”
Dr. Steele did not see the humor.
“You do know the highest burnout rates are among those who treat burn wounds, no pun intended.” Those frozen blue eyes constantly assessed.
“Especially when it’s children, I know.” Glory smiled. “Suffering is difficult to watch, but it’s rewarding to see them heal and regain their lives. A hug and some encouraging words go a long way.”
“We try for a little more than that at Agapé.” His mouth evidenced disapproval. “It’s best if you don’t allow yourself to get too close to any of the children, Dr. Cranbrook. Most of them are here for a short period of time. Personal attachment only makes the job more difficult.”
Glory pressed her lips together. She was a doctor, she knew all about maintaining a professional distance with patients. Dr. Steele made it sound as if she’d fawn over them like some love-starved trainee. Still, he’d had two doctors walk out on him. Maybe he thought the warning was necessary.
“Thank you for the advice,” was the best she could manage.
She wanted to ask why the new patients weren’t suited to his grafting procedure but there wasn’t time as he moved back to the main area, showed her the operating rooms and the treatment areas complete with space-age equipment.
“We have two physiotherapists who come from Honolulu each day. That about sums it up.” He sighed. “Your quarters are across the compound. The driver will take your luggage over. Shall I show you where you’ll stay?”
Dr. Steele didn’t wait for her agreement but told the nurse where he was going then held open the door for Glory to pass through.
“It’s not necessary for you to do this. But thank you.” She paused outside, let the warmth enfold her. “This is such a beautiful place. I’m sure the children must enjoy it.”
“Hmm.” His tone didn’t welcome further comments.
Glory walked beside him for a few minutes then tried again. “I love the water. Is it safe to swim in the sea here?”
“Quite safe. The cove is protected, meaning the surf won’t overwhelm you. The beach and the sea are mostly private, though, of course, we can’t forbid anyone to use them.”
“You can’t?” Intrigued at the loosening of his rigid control, Glory snuck a sideways glance. He was handsome—when he forgot to frown.
“It’s an island law one of the Hawaiian kings made years ago and the government upholds it still. No one can own the beach in Hawaii. It is free to anyone who wishes to use it.”
The doctor stopped beside a small bungalow.
“This is yours.” He led her inside, pointed out a tiny kitchen, bath and bedroom and a glorious garden outside the back door.
“It’s lovely. Thank you.”
“Mahalo. You are safe here. Agapé’s compound is surrounded by a fence and a guard is always on duty—a security measure.” He demonstrated how to use the intercom system beside the phone.
“Thank you. I appreciate you taking the time.”
Dr. Steele stood under the light of the entry, his blue eyes mixing with hints of silver-gray as they analyzed her.
“You’re tired. It’s a long flight and the change in climate can take adjustment. Rest tonight. Tomorrow will be soon enough for you to learn the rules of the mission and see to the children’s needs. There are a couple of cases I’d like to discuss once you’re ready.”
“Of course.” She inhaled, then pressed on. “I—that is, I was wondering…”
“Yes?” He’d taken a step forward as if he could hardly wait to get away. But he paused courteously, though his face bore an impatient scowl.
“The grafting procedure—I was wondering if you’d be doing it tomorrow.”
“No.”
The terse response surprised Glory into silence.
He stepped outside, then suddenly stopped and turned back.
“Is there anything else you need, Dr. Cranbrook?” he asked as if he’d been suddenly reminded of his manners. It was painfully obvious he wanted to be gone.
“No, thank you. Good night, Dr. Steele.”
“Good evening, Dr. Cranbrook.”
Glory detested the stiff, supercilious response surgeons often demonstrated to those they considered lesser mortals, but given Dr. Steele’s reputation she supposed he had a right to be conceited.
When he disappeared from sight, Glory stepped back inside her cottage, closed the door and twirled around in the living room, soaking in the thrill of having her own place. After sharing quarters with others for so many years to save money, privacy was something she’d come to crave.
A wave of travel-tiredness swamped her, but GloryAnn ignored it. In the kitchen she found an insulated decanter and a mug on the counter. A plate with two pale golden cookies and a note sat waiting.
Welcome to Hawaii. May God bless you as you minister to those who need you.
With love, Sister Philomena.
Glory poured out a steaming beverage, smiling at the fragrant aroma filling the air. Mint tea. Her favorite.
“Thank you, Sister Philomena,” she murmured. “Whoever you are.” She bit into one of the cookies. Lemon. “How could you know what I love?”
She carried it and the tea outside, into a garden filled with scents she’d only ever sniffed inside a florist’s. Strategically placed landscape lights lent an aura of peace and tranquillity.
A white wicker chair with a flowered cushion waited beside a small tinkling fountain. Glory sank into it, content to review the day’s events. But her thoughts kept returning to Jared Steele, to the craggy harshness of his face as he directed care for the two small boys.
The snap in his response when she’d asked about the grafting troubled her. There was something he hadn’t said, something that made her wonder why the other doctors had quit.
But more than that, she wondered why such sadness filled Dr. Steele’s eyes.
Glory sipped her tea, peered up at the stars.
Why did You send me here, Lord? she prayed silently. It’s obvious he’s got anger issues. He doesn’t want to talk about his grafting procedure, but I thought that’s why You wanted me to come. So what’s Your purpose for me?
She received no response in the still silence of her heart. But that didn’t stop her from pondering why God had led her so far from home, away from her long-held goal to fulfill the deathbed promise she’d made to her mother.
God knew how much she wanted to honor both her parents by returning to the Arctic and caring for the Inuit they loved.
I will go back, Mom, just as soon as I can. I promise you.
Glory had explained her delay to the elders in the village of Tiska. Everyone said they understood. They’d wished her good luck and offered a traditional Inuit blessing.
Now, as the night breeze toyed with her hair, a yearning filled GloryAnn’s heart. Leilani seemed nice enough, but Jared Steele was cool and prickly and above all, dictatorial.
It struck her then just how far she’d traveled from everything that was familiar.
Despite the fragrance, the warmth, the soothing lull of the ocean tides, she longed to be back at home soon where ice and snow swathed the land in a thick pure blanket of peace. She ached to hear the howl of sled dogs fall silent and be replaced by the whistle of the Arctic wind as it seeped through the cracks of the house, soothing her to sleep. She yearned to wake to the wide generous smiles of her people, let them fill the empty aching spot in her heart.
She’d been gone too long.
Only six months, okay, Lord? And then I have to go back.
Even Dr. Jared Steele, with his peremptory orders, couldn’t sway her from that goal.
Chapter Two
Jared glanced up from his desk through his open window to watch Dr. Cranbrook walk toward the mission.
She occasionally paused, once to pick a small daisy that had pushed its way through the rocky soil, again to smile at a Java sparrow pecking the hardened ground. Then she studied the Kuhio vine Diana had insisted on planting on their anniversary, the first year they’d come here.
He shoved the memory away, mouth tightening as Dr. Cranbrook lifted her face into the wind, allowing her long golden-brown hair to stream behind her. No doubt she, like most tourists, thought this was paradise.
He knew better.
Jared had been so impressed by GloryAnn Cranbrook’s competence yesterday he’d failed to notice how frail she was. In the blazing sunlight she now emerged pinched and pale, the big green eyes too large for her oval face, jutting cheekbones too pronounced. Would she be up to Agapé’s demands?
Then he recalled her composure last night when he’d warned her not to get too close to the patients. Dr. Cranbrook hadn’t liked his warning, but she had managed to suppress any retort. She might look frail, but he had a hunch she could take whatever was dished out. Good. She might stay a little longer.
She stood statue still, staring out over the water.
GloryAnn—an unusual name but it suited her. Captivated by her look of perfect peace, Jared realized he hadn’t felt that way himself for a long time—three years, in fact.
“Hang on to it as long as you can,” he wanted to tell her. “What you’ll see here will steal your peace away and you’ll never feel it again.”
But he could hardly say that to Elizabeth’s newest protégée. So Jared gathered up his files and waited at the main desk for Dr. Cranbrook to push through the doors.
“Good morning, Dr. Steele. Isn’t it a lovely day?” She glanced at the folders in his arms. “Do you prefer to do rounds first?”
“Yes.” The building seemed strangely brighter. Jared walked beside her down the corridor, told himself to concentrate on business.
GloryAnn listened as he described each case, glanced at the file for the child’s name then struck up some silly conversation with them. It irritated him that she spent so much time talking nonsense when there was so much to be done. The sheath of amber hair falling over one shoulder bugged him. So did the way she met each patient’s stare with that reassuring smile.
Finally they arrived at the patient she’d treated last night. She smiled at the boy, held his hand as Jared examined him.
“He’s going to need these burns peeled soon.” A giggle from behind him drew Jared’s attention to the laughing child. He half turned, caught a glimpse of GloryAnn making funny faces. “Dr. Cranbrook?”
“I heard you.” She straightened.
“May I ask what you were doing?”
“Taking his mind off what you were doing.” She pulled a small plastic disk from her pocket, showed the boy how to move it so the steel ball inside would follow the path. “You try it, Tony,” she encouraged.
Tony did and giggled at his success. GloryAnn turned to Jared, lifted one eyebrow and inquired, “Shall we see Joseph?”
“If you’ve finished playing.”
“For now.” She said, tongue in cheek.
Jared fought his impatience down. Her heels clicked on the marble floor. She hummed a little song about sunshine and flowers. Normally, extraneous noise irritated him, but Jared found himself relaxing as the soft melody carried down the hall.
Joseph was in pain. Jared checked him over quickly before increasing his meds. GloryAnn’s attention focused on the boy.
“Do you have anything he could listen to?” Her hand grasped the small fingers and cradled them when he moaned.
“I beg your pardon?”
“A radio? A CD player, perhaps? Something to take his mind off his pain when his family isn’t here with him?” She paid him little heed, her focus on the boy. “He’s going to have to lie still for quite a while. We could make that easier if we gave him something else to think about.”
“Such as?”
“Is there someone who could read to him in his language?”
“Dr. Cranbrook, we don’t have the staff or the time to entertain—” He stopped midsentence, a rap on the glass window interrupting him. His mother-in-law stood outside, beckoning.
“Not again.” She’d already called him twice this morning.
“Dr. Steele?” GloryAnn glanced from him to the woman.
“I’ll be a moment. Excuse me.” Jared strode to the door, stepped into the hall so Dr. Cranbrook wouldn’t overhear.
“Aloha, Jared, ku’u lei.” My child.
At least Kahlia had remembered his request not to enter the room without gowning up. She grasped his shoulders, enveloped him in a hearty hug, something he’d never grown used to from Diana’s big Hawaiian family.
“You don’t return my calls. How are you?”
“I’m fine. Busy,” he added, hoping she got the message.
“You’re always busy. Too busy for family.” She shook her gray head. “Pono and I are holding a birthday party for Grandma tomorrow evening. You will be there?”
There was no point in arguing with Kahlia, she would only keep nagging him. Diana and Nicholas had been her whole life. She and Pono had doted on their daughter and lavished affection on their tiny grandson. Jared couldn’t blame her for needing someone to fill the gap in her heart. He just wished she’d chosen someone else so he didn’t have to keep struggling through the reminders of what they’d all lost.
“Grandma’s birthday, Jared?” she prodded.
“I’ll try.”
“Who’s that?” Kahlia inclined her head toward the woman now bent over the bed playing some kind of finger game that coaxed a smile from Joseph’s parched lips.
“Our new doctor. GloryAnn Cranbrook. She arrived yesterday.”
“Lovely. Will you bring her along?”
“I don’t think so, Kahlia. She has work to do.” Jared took another tack. “Or she could go in my place.”
Kahlia’s dark eyes scolded. “Always you try to avoid us. We are your family, Jared. We are here for you.”
I lost my family.
He clamped his teeth together to stifle the words. Kahlia had mourned enough. They all had. Sooner or later she would accept that he had to get on with his life. Away from here.
“Excuse me, I’ve been paged.” GloryAnn eased past, strode down the hall, hair flying behind her like a silken kite.
“She looks so young, a mere child.”
“She’s extremely well qualified.” Jared barely recalled the list of credentials he’d scanned earlier. “Elizabeth Wisdom sent her to fill in for six months.”
“Elizabeth is a good friend to Agapé. Where does this woman go after six months?”
“I have no idea.” Jared suddenly realized he knew little about his new coworker. Thankfully he was paged next. “Excuse me, Kahlia. I’ve got to go. Leave me a note about the party. I’ll come if I can.”
“But I wanted to—oh, never mind.”
Ashamed of his rudeness, Jared bent and brushed her cheek with his lips. “Bye.”
By the time he’d dealt with their newest patient and completed two debrading procedures, Jared was more than ready for lunch. He picked up a tray from the cafeteria and moved outside, drawing in deep cleansing breaths and exhaling fully to purify his lungs.
GloryAnn sat on one end of the patio, watching sailboats cruise past their tiny cove. He could hardly ignore her, though at the moment Jared craved nothing more than silence, respite from the weeping children he’d had to hurt to help.
“May I join you?”
“Certainly.” She blinked as if awakening from a dream, her smile inviting. “I’m enjoying this weather.”
“You’ll want to watch your skin. Even though it seems temperate, the sun is strong. A tropical burn is painful, Dr. Cranbrook.”
Clearly irritated, she set down her bottle of juice hard enough that a few droplets decorated her fingers. “Why do you always talk to me like that, Dr. Steele?”
“Like what?” Unused to being challenged, Jared froze, his sandwich halfway to his mouth.
“Like I’m a silly child who can’t look after herself, let alone anyone else. ‘Don’t get too close to the patients, watch the sun, don’t get the patients too excited with silly games.’ It’s insulting.”
Though neither her voice nor her demeanor changed, anger darkened her green irises.
“I’m sorry if I offended you. I merely wanted to point out that this climate is different than the one you’re used to. Sunburn is unpleasant and can be dangerous.”
“And you think I don’t know that?” GloryAnn put the lid back on her bottle and tightened it so much her fingertips turned white. “I put on sunscreen this morning, SPF 70, and I’ve been out here—” she checked her watch “—ten minutes. Hardly long enough, don’t you agree?”
Jared decided it was better not to answer, so he concentrated on chewing the roast beef he’d selected.
“I assure you I am qualified to be here, Dr. Steele. If you feel that isn’t so, or if you would prefer someone else, I suggest you contact Elizabeth Wisdom, because until I hear otherwise I intend to do the job she sent me to do, and I’ll keep doing it for the next six months.”
She stabbed a piece of lettuce so hard it tore apart.
“Now, since you’re here, I’d like to ask you some questions about your procedures this morning.”
A new respect filled him. “Fire away.”
“I know you like to remove the burned tissue as quickly as possible because that’s where infection likes to grow.”
“Yes.”
“But I’ve never seen debrading done the way you did this morning. Can you explain it to me?”
Jared explained the process he preferred.
“I’m sure you know that with current procedures it’s difficult for surgeons to tell which tissue is dead and needs to be removed and which is still alive and can heal on its own.”
“Yes.”
“If you’ve removed more than you need to, that makes it harder for the graft to take. It doesn’t heal as well.”
“So that machine you were using…?” She lifted an eyebrow.
“It combines laser and radar systems—hence the name lidar. It’s something we’ve been working with for a medical research company—trying to perfect.” He babbled on about his work, fascinated by the bloom of color on her cheeks. She was lovely.
“Amazing,” she enthused, her smile flashing.
“It is,” he admitted. “But it could be even better.” He went on to explain the alterations needed. “If they could perfect it, the agony of debrading would become a thing of the past.”
“Which would be a blessing for all of us,” she muttered, making a face. Her head lifted. “But you can’t do that yet.”
“No.” He swallowed a mouthful of hot black coffee before explaining the need for a laser component.
“What you were doing today with the little girl—active triangulation?”
“Yes.” He was surprised by her knowledge. “It’s good but prone to errors because light tends to scatter inside the tissue.” Jared finished munching on his apple. No point in boring her with his special interest.
“The new machine would be useful for assessing other types of tissue damage?” Those eyes blazed with life, drawing him into them as she spoke.
“Yes.”
“Wow!”
Her enthusiasm charmed.
“It has great potential but it isn’t perfected yet, so don’t start planning any expansions for the mission. Hopefully we’ll see some advances soon.” He placed the apple core on his plate, noticed the sack at her feet. “Shopping already, Dr. Cranbrook?”
“It’s Glory. Or GloryAnn if you must be formal.” She glanced at the bag. “I brought a few things from home—for the patients.”
“Things?”
“Toys, noisemakers, a couple of handheld games. Stuff like that.”
Oh, brother. “Hardly appropriate for Agapé, Doctor.”
“Are you kidding me?” GloryAnn surged to her feet, picked up the bag and rattled it. “It’s quite appropriate. I’ve never seen a place more in need of a little joy.”
He would have interrupted but she held up her hand.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to criticize your work, Dr. Steele. I know it is necessary and is helping the kids. But I can’t imagine why your last pediatrician didn’t suggest doing something to animate the children.”
“We haven’t had a resident pediatrician on staff for over a year. The last one stayed three weeks. They want everything to be jolly and happy and when it isn’t, they don’t seem able to withstand the demands this kind of work requires.”
Okay, he could have worded that differently, but she’d been here for less than twenty-four hours and she was ready to change all he and Diana had worked so hard to achieve. The knowledge grated like seawater in a wound.
“Maybe you should have hired a different pediatrician,” she mused aloud. “I admire your new technology, Doctor. I’ve seen you work and I know you’re diligent and precise. But my purpose in being here is to look after the kids’ needs, mental and physical, beyond their burns. I believe they need a few old-fashioned toys.”
She picked up her tray, paused for a moment. Her face softened, her gaze followed a patient being wheeled along one of the paths.
“I have to start somewhere,” she murmured.
Jared’s temper flared as he watched her leave the cafeteria. The casual inference that he hadn’t done his best for his patients irritated him immensely. He rose, pushed his tray onto the appropriate rack and followed her, quickly catching up.
“Dr. Cranbrook.”
“Yes, Dr. Steele.” She stopped, lifted one eyebrow in that imperious manner that probably worked well with bratty five-year-olds but simply annoyed him.
“I do not want noisemakers in my hospital.”
She stared at him. One corner of her mouth lifted in a half smile, as if she’d caught him out in some prank.
“Your hospital?”
Jared swallowed.
“At Agapé, I mean. I guess I think of it as mine because I’ve been here so long.”
“Fresh ideas don’t hurt.”
Meaning he was a stick-in-the-mud, afraid of innovation?
“No, they don’t. But rest is important for these patients. The treatments are grueling, the issue of facing what they look like now can be extremely traumatic.”
“Exactly, which is why anything we can do to ease their stress levels, to make them feel normal, is important.” She frowned. “Why are you fighting this, Doctor? Surely you must be aware of the connection between positive thinking and the healing powers of the mind.”
“Of course. I’m also aware of the benefits of solitude, rest and recuperation and that too much excitement can lead to overexertion and setbacks.”
“I’m not talking about too much anything.”
Though he felt a fool for calling her tactics into question, Jared refused to back down. He’d gone through this before with eager beavers and it always ended badly. The children always lost. That couldn’t happen again.
“I’m chief of staff, Dr. Cranbrook. These children are my responsibility and I don’t want anyone trying some crazy idea that’s going to interfere with our procedures. The patients need every ounce of strength to get through their treatments.”
He turned to leave. Her hand on his arm stopped him.
“Toys? Hardly a crazy idea,” she chided, tongue in cheek.
“You know what I meant.”
“I do. And I assure you, Dr. Steele, I’m not going to hurt the children or do anything to stop their healing progress. I only want to give them something besides a few dishes of ice cream to look forward to after their therapies are done.”
So she’d noticed his attempt to soften the pain. Jared sprouted new appreciation for GloryAnn Cranbrook’s shrewdness.
“The pressure suits are agony to put on.” Her voice mirrored her sadness. “To face the knowledge that even though you take it off tonight, you’ll have to do it again tomorrow—that can prey on the mind and ruin any rest they might get.”
“But they’re necessary,” he blurted out.
“Of course they are. And they make a difference. You and I both know that.” Her eyes misted. “But six months, a year ahead—that’s a long time for a child to wait to see results. I spoke to some of the nurses. They told me how hard they have to coax some of the older ones to wear the masks.”
“Then you also know that the best way to keep their healing skin from drying out too quickly, and to keep out infection, is to wear Lucite masks almost twenty-four hours a day.” He was so weary of the reminder that with pain came healing.
Pain hadn’t helped him heal.
“They’re custom-made for each child to be as comfortable as possible.”
“Yes, I know.” Her chin lifted, her voice lowered. “You’re doing your best to give them a fighting chance, Dr. Steele. I realize that.”
“I—”
“All I’m asking is that you let me do the same. I’ve talked to the physiotherapists. We’ve come up with some ideas we think will help motivate them. Kids are used to running, screaming, jumping. To be silent and quiet all the time isn’t necessarily healthy.”
Hard to argue with truth. Jared had seen the brooding set in, watched as the will to keep going faded when the painful treatments never seemed to end.
“There will still be periods of silence,” she assured him. “No one’s rest will be disrupted, I promise. Maybe they’ll rest even better.”
Jared had always left this end to Diana. He was a surgeon, used to shutting out emotions, cutting and piecing without really thinking about the patient as a person. In fact, Jared didn’t understand kids most of the time. Hadn’t really wanted to until Nicholas.
Now whenever he lifted a scalpel, the child on the table became the son he had to save.
“Fine.” He agreed so he could get away, stop being reminded. “You can try it your way for a week. But if it doesn’t work or if someone becomes disruptive, we go back to the way it was.”
“Of course.”
A helicopter broke the silence of the afternoon.
“I hate that sound.” Jared strode back to the desk to see what new damage had been done in a world where God seemed to have fallen asleep.
Two weeks later, after lunch, Glory climbed up the pathway from the beach feeling both refreshed and at ease.
“I love this ocean.”
“Oh, me, too.” Leilani poured sand out of her upturned shoe, grimaced.
“I don’t understand how you can live in a place like this and not spend every spare moment beside the sea, if not in it.”
“Maybe if I had hair like yours that dried in a beautiful wave, I would, but all I end up with is a frizzy mess that won’t stay put no matter what.” Leilani unwound the scarf on her head to prove her point.
“Okay then.” GloryAnn tilted her head to one side, thinking. “Maybe you should stop having perms.”
“And wear what—mop strings? My hair sticks out in all directions. Dr. Steele would send me home.”
“Ha! You’re irreplaceable. Is he always so—” GloryAnn remembered who she was talking to and bit off the adverb.
“Cranky?” Leilani giggled at her arched brow. “Well, if the shoe fits.” Mirth was edged out by a sad smile. “Ever since his family died.”
“He had a family? I mean, I heard he’d been married once, but—” Glory gulped. “What happened to his wife?”
“She died. Was killed, actually.” Leilani sat down on a big rock, pulled out her water bottle and took a sip. “Both Diana and Nicholas—their son. He was three years old.”
“Oh, how horrible!” A gush of sympathy overtook Glory. She wondered how Jared could bear to stay.
“That’s not all.” Leilani shoved her sunglasses onto the top of her head. “They were murdered.”
At first Glory thought it was some kind of crude joke, but Leilani’s frown was deadly serious. “What happened?”
“I don’t know if you remember—a few years back there was an uprising by rebels in Russia. They took some hostages, did some damage. It took armed forces to quell it.”
“I recall something about that.”
“A school was bombed, and a little boy who was badly injured was flown here for treatment. His name was Sam.” Leilani’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I was here the day they brought him in with his father, Viktor. Sam’s mother had been a teacher at the school, his siblings were students there. An entire family was gone—except for Sam and his dad.”
A pang of loss for this man she’d never met rippled deep. Glory knew too well what it was like to lose loved ones.
“Diana, Dr. Steele’s wife, felt Sam should be taken elsewhere, that he was too damaged for the grafting procedure.”
“She was a doctor?”
“A pediatrician. Dr. Steele is the boss, but she was the oil that kept everything running smoothly.” Leilani smiled. “In fact, you’re doing her job.”
Glory almost groaned. That explained Jared’s attitude. She’d waltzed in and begun changing everything his dead wife had organized.
“Anyway, Diana wanted to transfer Sam somewhere else, but by then Dr. Steele had done the procedure many times with great success and felt he could help. He’d heard their story, you see, and it touched him. He understood Viktor was going through a father’s worst nightmare. Jared desperately wanted to give Viktor back his son.”
“So he did the procedure.” A sense of dread hung in the air.
“It went perfectly. Two days later, Sam died.”
“Oh, no.”
“It was horrible.” Leilani’s voice dropped. “Jared couldn’t understand it. There was no warning, no sign that the boy was in trouble. Even the autopsy couldn’t explain why, only that his little heart had stopped.”
“The father was devastated,” she guessed.
“And furious.”
“Oh?”
“Viktor agreed to bring Sam to Agapé because a doctor in Moscow had told him of our success. Viktor wasn’t a religious man himself, but he thought his son would do better among those who believe in the power of God.” Leilani pursed her lips. “You know how people are—get God on your side and you’ll get a double benefit—less risk of anything going wrong if God’s involved.”
“I’m familiar with that line of thinking.” Glory pieced together the sad story. “I’m guessing his view changed with Sam’s death?”
“Yes. Viktor claimed Jared had talked him into it, said he would never have allowed his son to undergo the treatment if he’d known it was so dangerous.” Leilani shook her head. “He’d been told all the risks. I was there, I heard it.”
“The poor man. To lose that last link—” Sadness overwhelmed her.
“After the autopsy Viktor took Sam’s body back to Russia to be buried. Before he left he threatened to make Jared pay for killing his son. It was an awful time. We’d all fallen for the little sprite, you see. Sam was a heartbreaker. We prayed so hard for him to be whole again.” A tear trembled on her lashes.
“It’s hard to understand sometimes, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Leilani sighed. “But nobody took it harder than Jared. He locked himself in his office, reviewed the tapes of the surgery over and over, searching for something he’d done wrong. Only there wasn’t anything. I should know—I assisted him. It was a straightforward surgery. It was difficult, yes, but no more so than others we’d done.”
“Those are the hardest cases to deal with—the ones where you can’t figure out how you could have prevented it. Or accept that you couldn’t.”
Leilani’s sad eyes brimmed with tears.
“Diana and Nicholas were traveling home from a visit with her parents a month later. Have you met Kahlia and Pono yet?”
Glory shook her head.
“Lovely people. They adored Diana and the baby. And Jared. Typical Hawaiian family, lots of hugging, plenty of celebrations. They always included our staff in any party they threw. We’d become part of their family.” Leilani blew her nose. “Diana’s car went over the edge of a cliff. She and Nicholas were killed. After the funerals, Jared got a card. An eye for an eye. It was Viktor.”
“How horrible!” Glory shuddered. “This Viktor—he’s in jail now, right?”
“Yes.” Leilani sighed. “Not that it makes any difference. They’re still gone. I think Jared would have left Agapé, moved on and built a new life.”
“Why can’t he do that now?”
“If you haven’t met them, I guess you couldn’t understand.” Leilani’s troubled gaze met hers. “Pono and Kahlia won’t let go. They cling to Jared as if he’s their son. He finds it terribly difficult to say no to them, to add to the pain they’ve already endured. I think he feels guilty about little Sam’s death, but he refuses to discuss it with anyone.”
“But you said it wasn’t his fault.” Glory frowned. “This was when?”
“Coming up on three years.”
“Her parents must be over the worst of it. He could leave now, couldn’t he?”
“It would break their hearts, but I guess he could, if he made up his mind.”
“You don’t sound sure.” Something wasn’t quite right. “Why?”
“You should really talk to him.”
“Dredge up his past without all the facts? How would that help?”
Leilani tucked her water bottle back into her bag, pulled down her sunglasses and rose. “We’d better get back.”
“Wait.” Glory held the woman’s arm to stop her from leaving. “What aren’t you saying?”
Leilani kept her mouth clamped closed, but a battle raged in her dark-brown eyes.
“You can’t tell me this much and not the rest. It’s not fair,” GloryAnn pleaded.
“If I tell you, you’ll leave.” Like the others was the implication.
“No way. I’m not going anywhere. I promised Elizabeth Wisdom six months and that’s how long I’m here for. So you might as well tell me. I’ll find out, anyway.”
“I guess you will.” Leilani scuffled her toes against the dirt. Finally she lifted her head. “I think Jared doesn’t leave because he can’t. He often goes to Honolulu and visits the Halawa Correctional Facility to make sure Viktor’s still there.”
“Why?”
“I think he wants to make sure his wife and son’s killer serves every bit of the time he was sentenced, be certain Viktor doesn’t get early parole or something.” Leilani shook her head. “Look, you really should talk to Jared about this. It’s his private business, after all.” She began walking quickly back to the mission.
GloryAnn remained still, the sun beating down on her head as she struggled to reconcile what she’d learned. An inkling of understanding seeped through.
Jared Steele kept a close check on Agapé to ensure nothing bad happened again. But why didn’t he walk away, leave it to someone else, find a place where he could forget the horror that had happened here and move on?
If it took her entire six months, Glory was going to answer that question.
Chapter Three
Once she’d showered off the salty seawater and changed back into her work clothes, Glory hurried back to the wards.
The warm afternoons were the most difficult times for the children in Ward A, especially the older kids who couldn’t yet get out of bed and move around. Technically she was on an extended lunch because she would be on duty all night, but since she had nothing else to do, Glory decided to help out.
The nurses hurried as fast as they could, but it wasn’t possible to meet everyone’s demands at once. The pathetic cries of those who had to wait for relief affected the others who watched in fear or studiously looked away to avoid seeing more pain.
Enough was too much. GloryAnn clapped her hands.
“Is there anyone who’d like to hear a story about a girl named Frizzy?”
“You don’t have a book, Doc.” Germaine, a preteen from the rougher side of New York, had been burned in an altercation between gangs and now used his bravado to bully his way through treatment. “How you gonna tell this story?”
“It’s all up here, buddy,” she told him, tapping her temple. Germaine’s role as leader was well established in the ward. She’d have to make sure his interest was captured or he’d ruin it for everybody. “Do you know anything about the Arctic, Germaine?”
“Yeah. It’s cold.” He laughed uproariously at his own joke.
“Sometimes. Sometimes it’s lovely and warm. Sometimes you can’t see what kind of day it is because the wind whips the snow around so you’re blind.”
Glory kept describing the land she loved until a pin drop could be heard. Even the children that couldn’t understand English well watched with wide-open eyes as she told a story about an Inuit girl, the basis for many Arctic folk tales. When she was six, Glory had changed the Inuit name to Frizzy so she could pronounce it more easily.
So caught up did she become in her story that she startled when a nurse touched her shoulder and pointed to the clock on the wall.
“Goodness! That’s all for today. I’ve got to get some work done.”
“But you didn’t finish.” Germaine’s indignation echoed the others’.
“I’ll tell you more tomorrow. If you behave.” She shook her head at the calls for more, checked over a young girl whose pallor was worrisome, then hurried away to her office.
Unfortunately, Dr. Steele was already there.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she panted as she reached for the first file. “Shall we begin with—” she checked the name “—Donald?”
That glacial glare told her he wasn’t going to let it go.
“Dr. Cranbrook, we run on a tight schedule here. We cannot—”
Glory held up a hand. Jared blinked, obviously astounded by her interruption.
“Am I on some kind of time clock, Dr. Steele?”
He frowned, finally shook his head. “No, but it’s important—”
“That I do my job the very best I can, which means in my own way, on my own timetable.”
“Your point?” That jaw of steel didn’t bend a millimeter.
“I’m not saying it’s all right to be late,” Glory hurried to clarify. “It isn’t and I will try to do better. But it would be helpful if you didn’t keep hounding me about every little thing. It’s going to take me a while to orientate to your schedule but I promise I will fit in. Okay?”
Breathless at her own impudence, she waited for his acquiescence. His cold hard glare memorized every detail of her face, but he finally inclined his head.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Donald will be discharged next week. Also these three,” he said, indicating the appropriate files. “These four will be at least another month. The rest I am not sure about.” He went through each case, precisely detailing the problems, what he expected and what he wanted to see before they were released.
“Are any of them candidates for your procedure, Doctor?”
“No.” He rose, pulled his stethoscope from his pocket. “These will be the patients primarily in your care. If you’ll excuse me, I have some things to do this afternoon away from the mission.”
“I’m on my own?” she squeaked.
“Naturally not.” He pulled open the door. “Dr. Xavier’s at his cottage, on call. Dr. Potter’s gastrointestinal upset seems to have abated. He claims he’s feeling much better. He should be here in a half hour or so. I’ll make sure he stops by to introduce himself. If an emergency arises, let the desk know. Leilani can always reach me.”
“Oh. Okay, then.”
Glory was talking to thin air. Dr. Steele was already halfway down the corridor. Whatever he had to do this afternoon must be important.
She spent the next few hours poring over every case, memorizing details she’d need if one of her patients took a turn for the worse. By the time Dr. Potter arrived Glory was twiddling her thumbs.
“Bored?” a lilting English voice inquired with just a hint of jollity.
“Well,” she began, not wanting to say it.
“That’s the problem with living in paradise.” A salt-and-pepper head appeared in the doorway, lifted to reveal a sweetly rounded face wreathed in a smile. “As for me, I enjoy my free time by surfing, walking, sunning. I’m really just here to amuse myself until I retire. I’m Potter. Part-time anaesthesiologist, part-time attending doctor, full-time loafer.”
“Dr. Potter, it’s so nice to meet you.” Glory accepted his hand then realized she towered over him. But as she searched his faded blue eyes it didn’t matter. He was a kindred spirit.
“And you, my dear, though I must say I never imagined Elizabeth would find someone so young. It will be like working with my granddaughter.”
“I hope that won’t be a problem?”
“Hardly. I look forward to seeing your lovely face each day.” He skillfully plied her with questions, nodded as if satisfied by the answers. “Shall I give you an idea of how the place runs?”
“Would you? I’ve already made enough faux pas. I don’t want Dr. Steele to chastise me yet again.”
“So Jared’s been laying down the law, has he? Well, we must expect that.”
“Why must we?” Glory asked curiously.
Dr. Potter blinked, pulled out a pair of glasses and slid them on to study her more thoroughly. Glory had the distinct impression no one had ever questioned Jared Steele’s leadership before. Not that she was, but still.
“Jared and his wife started the place, you know. Agapé has only been in operation for about seven years.” He chuckled, offered her a peppermint and when she declined, popped it into his own mouth. “Dr. Steele is always in charge. And when he’s not in charge, he still is.”
“I see.”
He picked up Joseph’s chart, clicked his teeth at the notation she’d made.
“If there’s a change in a patient’s condition, be sure you tell Jared as soon as you next see him. He doesn’t like to miss anything.”
“A little obsessive, is he?” she teased.
“It’s not ego,” Dr. Potter assured her. “Jared genuinely wants the very best for every child that comes to Agapé and he won’t tolerate skimping on treatments or easing off just because it’s painful.” He shook his head, a rueful smile stretching his mouth. “I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone quite like him. It’s as if he’s got a personal stake in every child.”
Talk about setting yourself up for burnout. But Glory didn’t say it aloud. Instead she thanked Dr. Potter for the information, promised to meet him in the cafeteria for dinner and agreed to look at a patient he’d been tracking.
“Dr. Steele mentioned he would be away from the mission this afternoon.”
“Yes, he would be.” A sad look flitted across Dr. Potter’s sunburned cheeks.
“Do you have any idea when he might return?”
“I wouldn’t dare ask.” He rose. “If you’ll excuse me, I must see if those lab results I was waiting for have come in. I hope you enjoy your time here, Dr. Cranbrook.”
“I will if you promise to call me Glory.”
He nodded. “And I’m Fredrick.”
Glory sat behind her desk feeling much like a goldfish in a bowl as she stared through the glass walls. No doubt the design was intended to allow maximum air and light into the building, but suddenly everything seemed so strange. She decided to send her friends back home a quick e-mail, but either service was sporadic or someone had forgotten to hook up her computer.
She walked to the nurses’ station.
“Leilani, how can I send and receive e-mail?”
The capable nurse tut-tutted her frustration, picked up the phone and uttered some commands in a language Glory guessed to be Hawaiian.
“Sorry,” she apologized a few moments later. “Tomas should have replaced that router ages ago. If I don’t keep on him—”
“Don’t worry. No rush.”
“You must be on Hawaiian time now. Anything else I can help you with?”
“No. I’m going to see the kids for a while. The little ones.”
“Your heart’s with the babies, eh?” Leilani tut-tutted again. “Don’t miss afternoon tea. It always tastes like nectar after you’ve soothed the keiki.”
On Ward C, the tiniest children were fretful. GloryAnn thought perhaps it was the heat. She lifted a fractious toddler from a nurse’s overburdened arms. He felt too warm.
“Is the air-conditioning on?”
“Yes, Doctor. But we don’t want to turn it too high. Three of them have a fever.”
“Which three?” The culprits identified, Glory glanced around the room, made a decision. “Get some sheets, please.”
The nurses obeyed though their faces displayed their skepticism. Glory spread the sheets on the floor in a corner away from the vents. She pulled two screens in to further cut off direct airflow. Then she removed all but the diaper from the eldest.
“Dr. Steele does not allow the children to play on the floor,” the pediatric supervisor advised, her face disapproving.
“Are you questioning my treatment?” Glory asked softly.
They were loyal to Jared Steele and that was fine, but Glory had to make her own position clear now, before there was an emergency that would demand immediate obedience.
“No, Doctor.” Without another word the nurse undressed two other children and set them on the sheets. They immediately stopped crying and began to crawl.
With the help of a third nurse they used rattles and other toys as distractions to keep the children on the clean cloths.
“You see, he’s much more settled when he isn’t bundled up.” Chubby fingers curled around hers as the golden-haired toddler pulled upright and crowed with delight. “Come on, darling. Take your first step.”
GloryAnn played happily with the children for an hour, assessing their range of motion, the extent to which the burns impacted movement, and muscles they used as opposed to those they favored.
“It’s nap time, Doctor.”
She glanced up at the supervisor.
“Okay. I’ve seen what I need to.” Glory brushed her lips against a tiny head before handing her patient to the nurse. “Ask Dr. Steele to check his heel when next he comes in, would you, please?”
“Yes, Doctor.”
Glory stayed long enough to watch the nurses tenderly dress their charges. They fed each one then tucked them in for a nap. In less than five minutes there was only the creak of a rocking chair to break the silence of the ward, and that was made by a young woman. She sat next to a crib that housed a baby in a plastic-covered cubicle. According to Dr. Steele’s notes, this seven-month-old girl had a poor prognosis for recovery.
GloryAnn paused beside the mother, whose eyes oozed unspeakable pain.
“We’ll keep praying for her,” Glory whispered. “She’s God’s daughter, too.”
The mother’s tremulous smile was better payment than a thousand thanks.
“A moment, Dr. Cranbrook.”
Glory startled at the command. She straightened, preceded Dr. Steele from the ward.
“Oh, you’re back,” she blurted without thinking. “How was Honolulu?”
If anything, his face grew even grimmer.
“I was not in Honolulu,” he snapped.
“Oh, sorry. I thought—” His gray face looked so forbidding Glory let the comment die. “Is there something special you need to speak to me about?”
“Babies.” His austere face frosted in the glare of the overhead lights. “On the floor.”
“It’s not the usual practice, I admit, but it did get results.” She inclined her head toward the glass wall separating them from the nursery. “They’ve gone to sleep nicely.”
“Placing them on the floor is totally unsuitable, Dr. Cranbrook.”
“Unsuitable? Because it doesn’t benefit the child, in your opinion, or because it wasn’t your idea?” She was sick of playing power games.
He drew himself to his full height, a muscle in his jaw flickered. Glory grasped his arm to stop whatever words with which he intended to censure her.
“Look, I know you don’t like me. I’ve made too many changes, probably pushed too hard, too.” She dared not stop. “But my method did work, the sheets had been sterilized and the kids are now comfortable.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, said nothing.
“I’m just as concerned as you that they heal.” Fully aware that she was giving away her nervousness by talking so fast, Glory pressed on. “To that end, I’d like to know where I could go to get a pool.”
“A—what?”
His frown would have cowed most people. But Glory couldn’t stop. She had to make him understand that she wouldn’t run away or give up simply because he was in a bad humor. She was here to do her job and she would do it no matter what.
“A pool. Where do I get one?”
“Are you mad?”
“Sometimes. But at the moment I’m perfectly serious.”
“We are a mission funded entirely by Elizabeth Wisdom’s foundation. We don’t have the kind of cash it would take to put in a pool, but even if we—”
“Not that kind of pool.” She choked off a nervous giggle. “I’m talking about a child’s pool, the round plastic variety that we can fill with a couple of pails of water and let them splash in. The range of motion on the two babies with shoulder burns has lessened. The boy with the wound on the thigh favors his leg and the muscle tone shows it.”
She thought his face relaxed a millimeter.
“You think that by splashing around in the water, they’ll forget the pain, or at least shove it to the back of their minds?” Jared nodded thoughtfully. “It could work.”
“I’d suggest the ocean but the salt would only aggravate the new skin.”
“And there’s no guarantee they wouldn’t be compromised by whatever’s in the water,” he added thoughtfully. “Using bromide rather than chlorine would purify pool water but shouldn’t exacerbate the wounds.”
“Then we can get a pool?” Glory held her breath, excitement building inside. “When can we go to a store?”
Jared didn’t answer. His blue eyes peered across the hospital as if he saw something she couldn’t. When he eventually glanced her way, the icy hardness in his eyes had melted.
“You don’t have to go to the city, Dr. Cranbrook. I believe I may know of one. I’ll check into it, shall I?”
She nodded, delighted by his promise. “Thank you very much.”
“I think that should be the other way around. Thank you for caring.” The beginnings of a smile tilted the corners of his mouth. “I apologize for hounding you. The children, Agapé—they’ve become my life. I confess I am a little overprotective.”
“Which isn’t a bad thing.”
While he was in such a good mood Glory decided to press her luck.
“Dominic, the cute little guy with the black curls?” She waited, to be sure he knew which child she referred to. “His heel needs grafting. Do you think he might be a candidate for your new procedure?”
His face darkened the way shutters blanked out the sun and the animation vanished.
“No.” His fist clutched at the bottom of his white jacket.
“But he’s healthy, would withstand surgery very well, I believe. Surely—”
“I no longer do the technique, Dr. Cranbrook.”
Glory’s jaw dropped. Her brain sent a plea Heavenward.
Oh, God, why have You brought me here?
“Dr. Cranbrook, you’re not hearing what I’m saying.”
The frustration of not being able to heal Philomena, who he cared for deeply, mixed with three long nights and very little sleep chewed at the leash Jared had imposed on himself. That combined with the racket coming from Ward B, carried by wind directly into his office, had contributed to a headache of gargantuan proportions.
“I heard everything you said, Dr. Steele.” She grabbed his arm. “Can we please take this outside?”
It was not a request. He followed her out of the ward and down the hall. The children’s song stopped for only a moment before one of the nurses picked up the melody and began again.
Jared winced at her grip. Glory wasn’t taking no for an answer. He slowed down long enough to get a good look over his shoulder. The mess scattered around the room sent his blood pressure three points higher. He dug in his heels.
“What is going on in there, Doctor?”
“My name is Glory. Can’t you ever call me by my first name?”
“It’s not professional.”
She glanced around as if they’d snuck out of school for the afternoon. “Guess what? There’s no one out here to hear you.”
He closed his eyes, forced back the incessant pounding and counted to ten. At first he’d assumed her upbeat personality would mellow the longer she was at Agapé. That had not been the case.
“We’re making cards.”
“Making cards?” He frowned. “Making cards for—”
“For the children to send to their parents or sisters or whomever they want.” She pushed her hair off her glistening rosy cheeks. That faint sprinkle of perspiration gave her skin a dewy glow. Silver sparkles littered the bridge of her nose like Hollywood freckles.
Jared ordered his brain to concentrate on business.
“Why cards?”
“Some of the kids are really lonely. Most of them haven’t seen their family for ages. They want to know what’s happening and they want to tell them they’re doing all right. I’ve contacted an aid agency that has promised to get the cards delivered and bring back any return mail for the kids. The only stipulation is that we must get it ready for their pickup by Friday.”
“Do you think it’s wise to get them thinking about their missing families?”
“I consider it essential,” she told him, her spine straightening.
Glory always stood up for the kids. He liked that about her. She’d stick in her heels and refuse to be moved from her position if she thought her kids would benefit. She seemed to have no other motive for turning his hospital upside down.
“Look. Artie’s, Charles’s and Albert’s infections could have been contagious. After I isolated them, I realized they missed having the others to talk to, to commiserate with. I got them busy writing messages to the others. They wrote back.” She shrugged, the fragile bones of her narrow shoulders outlined in the delicate white blouse. “Things sort of mushroomed from there.”
Jared smiled in spite of himself. That, more than anything, explained her personality. GloryAnn was contagious.
“Is something funny?”
He swallowed, forced himself not to pluck away the bright-red dot that perched to one side of her lips.
“Why does making cards entail so much noise?” he asked, knowing she’d have an answer ready. She always did.
“That kind of mushroomed, too.” She grinned. “I’ll get them to tone it down, I promise.”
“Don’t bother.” Surprise flared as he admitted the truth. “Almost every child in the place that’s well enough to sit up and take notice is begging me to move them into this ward. You’ve got me in a very awkward position.”
“Sorry.” She wasn’t sorry at all. In fact, she looked very pleased with herself.
Jared reached out and pulled the paper airplane from her fingers.
“This is a card?”
Dr. Cranbrook blushed.
Jared found himself amazed by the wash of rose that bloomed in her cheeks, lending her the soft romantic look of a young girl, an innocent.
Because that’s what she was, he suddenly realized. Despite her training, her experience, her knowledge, GloryAnn retained her sweetness. She was genuine. She didn’t play games, didn’t kowtow to him. She just accepted that what she was told was the truth and moved on from there, doing her best to make a difference.
She reached to take the plane from him. Big blobs of glue bubbled on the ends of her fingers, almost obliterating her clear glossy nails from sight.
“I might have gotten a little carried away.”
Jared held on, studied the intricate folds of the airplane.
“Carried away—ah, a pun.” His face itched from her wise-owl gaze. “Do I assume the entire ward will now suffer from the same infection?”
“Don’t be ridiculous! The glass partition still keeps them apart. I wouldn’t risk another child’s health.”
She hadn’t expected him to tease. Or thought he didn’t know how.
“I was kidding.”
“Oh.” She tilted her head to one side. “You don’t mind?”
Mind? Did she think he was an ogre? Jared almost snorted at his own stupid question. What else was she supposed to think when he stomped around like a grouchy bear?
“Apparently we’ll have to set up a bigger workshop so that any of the children who want to participate can do so after they complete their therapy.”
It was called caving in and he didn’t mind a bit.
“Great.” Watching her grin was like watching the sun break through after a squall. All of a sudden the world seemed kinder, gentler.
“You didn’t go for your swim today.”
Now she’d know he’d kept track of her movements.
“I wanted to get those cards finished.” She glanced at her hands, began picking at the glue globs. “Did you get a chance to look at the baby that came in—after your initial assessment, I mean?”
He nodded, more comfortable now that they’d switched to medical matters.
“Yes. I agree with you. She bears definite signs of vitamin B12 deficiency. The tests seem to show a lack of intrinsic factor. You’ve ordered B12 shots?”
“I have, but I’d prefer not to proceed with any other treatments that are too aggressive right now. She needs time to heal.”
“Agreed. And the boy—what’s his name?”
“Naphir?” She waited for his nod. “He’s going to need several surgeries to correct that back problem. I don’t know how wise it is to do much before treating that.”
They spent several minutes discussing the problem cases. Upon reaching agreement, Glory glanced at the children, sighed.
“I better get back. I was hoping to do an assessment of young August while he made his card for his mother.”
“An assessment? Why?” What had he missed in the surly teenager?
“The burn damage was confined to his right hand, correct?” Glory frowned. “But he doesn’t use his left hand properly. I ran some tests but couldn’t find an organic reason for it. I’m going to look informally.”
“You’re thinking it’s something psychological?”
Glory shrugged. “In the absence of a physical reason, yes. I checked his records. His brother was killed trying to save him. I thought perhaps he might be dwelling on that in some way.”
“The shrink comes tomorrow. Ask him to talk to the boy.” He saw something flicker across her face. “What?”
“August is very intelligent. He also knows English quite well. I think he’ll say and do all the right things, just to please us. He wants to go home badly.” She peered at him through lashes he’d first thought artificial. “I think he faked some of the tests he was given at his last psychological review.”
“Because he wants to go home?”
“Because he wants to be with his mother, to protect her in case something else bad happens.”
Jared considered it. Replacing skin was much easier than following the contours of the human mind. Glory shifted and he noticed some emotion flutter across her clear skin.
“You want me to do something.”
She didn’t come out and say no, but he could read indecision all over her face.
“What is it?”
“Can you just talk to him? Nothing medical, no lectures. Just talking. Maybe man to man you might be able to find out what’s bugging him.”
“I guess I could give it a try, though I warn you, I’m not sure I’ll be much help. Diana, my wife, always told me surgery was my forte and to stay out of human relations.” Jared gulped, stunned by the personal admission.
He’d made it a tenet not to discuss his personal life.
Ever.
But Glory seemed to notice nothing untoward. She simply shrugged her narrow shoulders, studying him as if she thought he had all the answers.
“Could you at least try?”
He could not ignore a patient, especially not when another doctor asked him for an opinion. “I suppose.”
“When? Tonight?” Glory asked eagerly.
“I can’t tonight. I have to see a friend.”
“Oh.”
“There’s something else, isn’t there?” She’d kept back something he should know about. “What is it?”
“I’m very worried about August’s mental state.” She bit on the fullness of her bottom lip. “It really would be great if you could find time to speak to him today.”
Suicide. It was always a possibility with the older ones. Jared raked a hand through his hair. At least the headache was gone.
“I’ll go now. I was going to have an early meal so I could avoid the cafeteria special tonight. Kalo is not my favorite and limu comes in a close second. I can have my sandwich later.”
Glory’s nose wrinkled up, loosening the glitter so it rolled to the end and tumbled off, landing on her collarbone. Jared stifled his laughter.
“What are kalo and limu?” Worry threaded the nuances of her question.
“Taro and seaweed. They usually prepare a traditional Hawaiian meal once or twice a week. Most of the others love it but I try to be otherwise engaged.”
“I’ll make you dinner. If you’ll see August first.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“No. But I like cooking. I appreciate the cafeteria but sometimes it’s nice to have something plain. Though I do love the fruits and salads here. And the flowers.” She reached out to brush her hand over red hibiscus blooms. “We don’t have anything like this at home.”
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