Healing Tides. Lois Richer

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      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 СКАЧАТЬ