Healing Tides (4 page)

“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.”

In that moment Glory looked a bit lost and Jared realized he’d left her to settle in without even bothering to be sure she was comfortable. He felt a poke of shame for his callous disregard.

“It won’t be fancy but it will be good.” Her quizzical smile flashed.

“I’ll talk to August, Glory. You don’t have to bribe me.”

She burst into laughter that echoed across the compound in a sweet ring of delight, chasing away his regret. Suddenly he felt carefree.

“As if I would.” She snatched the paper plane from him, sent it sailing through the air. “What time is good for you?”

“Six?” he guessed.

“Six it is.” She dashed across the grass, caught the plane before an upcurrent could carry it away, then hurried back inside the building.

Jared followed at a slower pace, his mind busy with the replay of Dr. Cranbrook chasing a paper airplane. She was a confusing mix—a dedicated doctor, a woman determined to help a teen, a nurturer who came back to the mission twice this week to sit with a little boy to help him through the pain. And now a cook.

Maybe he’d send Elizabeth an e-mail to thank her. Then he could tell her she needed to visit Agapé again. Soon.

Before Philomena got worse.

“R
unning late, he says.”

Glory slapped her hand against the alarm so hard the clock tumbled onto the floor and kept ringing.

“First he’s late. Then he’s delayed. Then he finally realizes he can’t make it—at eleven o’clock! If you ask me, Dr. Jared Steele can’t make up his mind about a lot of things.”

She was cranky and Glory knew it.

Cranky because she’d worked so hard to make the meal perfect, cranky because she thought she’d finally broken through his leave-me-alone mask, and cranky because she’d stayed up until very late cleaning after his nonappearance at her perfect dinner.

Glory barely had time to drag a brush through her hair before her pager summoned her to the mission. She scooted outside, heard the sound of helicopter blades thrumming the air and raced across the compound to the hospital. At least she’d be too busy to be cranky.

“Kahlia, I have to go. There’s a flight coming in.” Jared gently set down the phone, hoping she’d forgive him yet again for cutting her off.

He raced out of his cottage, met Glory sprinting across the grass.

“You look awful.”

“Thanks so much. Your compliments are exactly what I needed to start my day.” She jogged ahead of him into Agapé.

Jared jerked to a halt, surprised by her sharp response. But the helicopter came into view. He’d have to deal with Glory later. Another damaged child was arriving on their doorstep.

Glory and Leilani were already on the tarmac. As soon as the chopper door opened, Glory had her hand outstretched, waiting for the chart. For once Jared stood aside and let her work without comment.

She took a quick look.

“Clean room, stat,” she ordered then glanced at him. “Okay?”

Jared nodded, trailed behind the stretcher into the treatment room and followed her snapped commands, assessing her.

“Hello, sweetheart.” From the gentle loving tone anyone would have thought she was the child’s mother. Her gaze meshed with the boy’s terror-filled stare. “My name is Glory. I’m a doctor and I’m going to help you. What’s your name?”

“Bennie,” the parched lips breathed. “My shoulder hurts.”

“I’m sorry.”

The boy winced away from her outstretched hands. Glory paused, waited till he’d searched her face, found what he needed. Finally he settled back against the bed with a heavy sigh.

“Okay now? Is that all right?” She remained absolutely still until he nodded. “How old are you, Bennie?”

She kept Bennie busy answering questions, soothing and probing as she appraised his injuries with a light delicate touch. Her tender voice, the sweet glow of love blooming on her face poked at Jared’s midsection.

Glory Cranbrook. Quintessential mother figure.

Her heart lay exposed in her green gaze. Jared tried to swallow, to warn her against getting too involved, to demand she move over and let him handle this. But his throat muscles weren’t functioning properly.

Anyway, it was too late.

His new doctor had tumbled head over heels for her patient.

“We’re almost done, honey.” She laid the back of her hand against Bennie’s cheek, smiled. “You’ve been so brave, darling. Can you be brave a little while longer while Dr. Jared takes a look at your shoulder?”

Bennie studied him so long Jared felt like a specimen under a microscope.

“He looks mad.” The boy’s coffee-toned eyes stretched wide with fear.

Time to step up to the plate.

“I am mad, Bennie.” Jared waited, as she had, for permission to examine the wound. “I’m mad that someone did this to you. I’m mad that you have to hurt. But I’m not mad at you.” He smiled. “Okay?”

“Is he the boss?” Bennie asked Glory.

She laughed, musical relief in the quiet room.

“Yes, he is, so don’t get me into any trouble, okay?”

Bennie nodded, winced as he tried to move in the bed. “Am I going to die?”

“No, sweetie. You are not going to die.” Glory lifted her head, met Jared’s gaze with blazing defiance. “We’re going to make you all better. With God’s help.”

Bennie’s big eyes welled with tears. “God doesn’t care about me.”

“You’re wrong. God cares about you very much.”

Glory’s assurance stunned Jared. She inclined her head, motioning the others to help move Bennie to a gurney. Then she walked down the hall by his side, still talking about God’s love for children.

“It doesn’t matter what happens, Bennie, God’s love never changes. Never.”

Jared shoved the door closed on her voice, drew off his gloves and reached for Bennie’s chart. According to the report, Bennie’s injuries had been caused by an incendiary device that had mistakenly hit his house and killed both Bennie’s parents and his sister.

A sign of God’s love?

“I hate this world.” But the words exploded inside his head, unheard by the staff now restoring the room to order.

Another family destroyed because men had never learned to get along with each other.

“If ever there was a case for your procedure, Bennie’s it.”

Glory’s voice shocked Jared out of his private torment.

“No.”

“But you have to! He’ll be horribly scarred if you don’t.” She grasped his arm, her green eyes flaring wide, bits of orange flame burning in their depths. “He’s lost everyone. How can he hope to be adopted with scars like that?”

“Dr. Cranbrook—” He stopped, chagrined by the sound of his own pompous voice. He took her arm, drew her outside where the others wouldn’t overhear them. “Glory, I won’t operate on him.”

“Because?” Her voice came out hard, cold and flat.

“Because there are other procedures, other ways to treat him.”

“None that would give him the same quality of life.” She studied him, boring into his soul with that piercing regard.

“You don’t know that. We’ll try several different options, see which works best.” He forced himself to sound upbeat, hopeful.

“Aloha, Jared.”

He’d never been as pleased to hear the sound of that voice as he was now, when he didn’t want to answer Glory’s questions.

“Kahlia. I don’t think you’ve met Dr. GloryAnn Cranbrook. Glory, this is Kahlia.”

In her usual fashion, the Hawaiian woman wrapped her arms around the slim doctor, her eyes glowing as richly as her chocolate-toned muumuu.

“Aloha, Glory. I am so happy to meet you.”

“And I you.” If she was uncomfortable with the hug, Glory gave no indication.

“Did you invite her to Pono’s birthday, Jared?”

“He didn’t, actually. When is it?” Glory smiled.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Jared won’t commit.” Kahlia winked at him.

“I’d really love to come but I have to consider Sister Phil.” Jared hated using her as an excuse, but he didn’t want to be part of another big family celebration.

“Ah, the dear sister. I wish I could do something for her.”

“Why can’t you?” Glory’s brief glance secreted a question in the dark depths. “I don’t know her, but Leilani said visitors cheer her up. Would you mind?”

“Of course not.” Kahlia’s round face beamed. “She’s done so much for all of us, it would be the least I could do for her. When should I go?”

In a moment Glory had recruited a helper. Why didn’t that surprise him?

“For so long I have felt unneeded, useless.” Kahlia’s body drooped as she stared at the floor. “Pono and I loved Diana, and when she and Nicky died—”

Glory flung an arm around her shoulder.

“But there are so many children here who could use a grandmother. Why can’t you adopt them while they’re here?”

“Really?” Kahlia peeked up through her lashes, begging. “You would not mind?”

Jared felt like a mean-spirited grouch.

“Of course I don’t mind, Kahlia. I should have thought of it myself.” At the very least Jared figured it would keep her busy enough to limit her meddling in his life.

“Then it’s settled.” Glory’s radiant glow transformed everything around her. “I know you’re busy planning the party, Kahlia, but if you have a minute, I’d like to introduce you to someone very special. His name is Bennie.”

“I do have time. Will you come to Pono’s party? With Jared?”

“Barring emergencies, I’ll try.” Glory glanced his way, one eyebrow uplifted in a question. “Jared?”

“I’ll try, too. Only you must promise not to be offended at the gift we give Pono, Kahlia.” Jared grinned, watched Glory’s face. “I’m putting her in charge of choosing one.”

“What?” Rose flooded Glory’s smooth cheeks. “But I don’t even know Pono.”

“You don’t seem to have a problem getting to know people.”

She arched one eyebrow at his snipping tone.

“You will love my husband, Glory. Just as I do.” Kahlia beamed. “And you must advise Jared about gifts, because he once gave me a turtle. An ugly turtle.”

“It was a stool.”

“It was a homely, ugly turtle.” Kahlia chuckled at his indignant snort. “You need all the help you can get, son. Now let me meet Bennie, visit Phil and then get home. For so long the days have dragged. Now I have too much to do and not enough time to do it in. I love it.”

“You can tell me more about this turtle. Coming, Jared?” Glory asked sweetly.

And watch Kahlia’s face when she saw Bennie’s likeness to Nicholas? No. Jared didn’t need the reminder.

“You ladies go ahead. I have to make a phone call.”

“As long as it’s not to a turtle shop.” Kahlia and Glory giggled like two conspirators, then hurried down the hall, chatting a mile a minute.

“They seem to get along.” Leilani stood by his side, watching.

“Maybe a little too well. I might have created a monster,” he admitted. “Both of them seem determined to gang up on me.”

Leilani opened her mouth as if to say something, thought better of it and clamped her lips together.

“What?”

“I have to get to work.” She turned her back on him and walked away.

“Must be something in the water,” he muttered as he strode toward his office. “Everyone’s acting weird today.”

Including him. He’d wasted ten minutes this morning wondering if Glory colored her hair or if the highlights were natural. And now that he was alone he couldn’t quite banish the snapshot of that blazing look of love she’d lavished on their newest patient.

Time to concentrate on work.

But the image of beloved brown eyes he’d known for only three years stayed in his mind.

The man who’d extinguished Nicholas’s life could not be allowed to escape his punishment. Not as long as Jared breathed.

He had to make another trip to Honolulu.

Soon.

Glory knew she was spending too much time with Bennie, but this child was different, special. He grabbed hold of her heart and she couldn’t break free. Nor did she want to. So she sat by his bedside, waiting until the painkiller had taken full effect. She heaved a sigh of thanksgiving as his little chest lifted and settled in a rhythm much like the tides outside.

“You’re a special boy, Bennie. I know you’re here for a reason.”

Glory pressed a kiss to his damp brow then hurried to the other wards to keep the promises she’d made. Soon after, Jared came surging through the doors of the makeshift craft room she’d commandeered, his cool blue eyes iced frostier than Penny Glacier when the summer sun tried to melt its ancient Arctic ice.

“What is going on here?”

She took the small drum Toby had constructed from a can and held on to it so she could hear. “I beg your pardon?”

“This is a hospital, not a rehearsal hall.” He opened his mouth but the words seemed stuck in his esophagus as he took in the painted rocks stacked at the end of the room. His face tightened even more, if that was possible. He glared at her. “What is that?”

“A pile of stones.”

“I’m well aware that they are stones. Exactly what is the pile doing here?”

“Just sitting.” Her sarcasm wasn’t helping his humor.

Sorry, Lord.

“We are getting ready to build an inukshuk, Dr. Steele.”

He blinked. “A what?”

“An inukshuk—it’s an Inuktitut word. Technically it means ‘a likeness of a person,’ but it’s a stone landmark used as a milestone or directional marker by the Inuit.”

Seeing his confusion hadn’t lifted, she launched into an explanation to buy time for his temper to mellow.

“The Arctic Circle has very few natural landmarks, so the Inuit build their own to mark a special ceremony or a date of significance. Then every time you go past it you remember.”

“Very interesting, I’m sure.” He rubbed his temple with the pad of his index finger. “But this isn’t the Arctic, Dr. Cranbrook.”

So they were back to formalities again.

“No, it isn’t, Dr. Steele. But it is a foreign place for most of these kids.”

“Uh-huh.” He shifted from one foot to the other. Waiting.

“The hospital is strange, we’re strangers, and for most of the kids the palm trees, the ocean, the hills—none of it’s familiar. They’re strangers in a strange land, and they hurt.” She tried to make him understand. “They need to do this.”

“Because?” He glanced around as if bewildered.

“Because they need to have one thing in this place that is uniquely theirs, one thing they helped create. The inukshuk will be that, a monument that says to the world, ‘I was here. I survived.’”

“It’s a great idea, Dr. Steele.” Nurse Kemper stepped forward, her eyes shining in her gaunt face. “The children are so excited. Some have even begun to discuss returning to Agapé after they’ve healed, just to see their stone. They encourage each other through the treatments. It’s really exciting to watch.”

“This one is Bennie’s.” She knew the moment she held out the hunk of black lava rock that he didn’t approve.

“I see. And the drum?” He raised one eyebrow.

Glory giggled.

“That was improvisation. Toby isn’t into painting. He can’t write his name with his hands bandaged. Anyway, he doesn’t know his letters yet. So he’s making music for us to work by.”

“Music. I see.” A twinkle, the barest flash lightened his steely eyes. “You really love these children, don’t you, Doctor?”

The question disturbed her. If he had to ask—“Don’t you?”