Healing Tides (3 page)

“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.

O
nce 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.”