Healing Tides. Lois Richer

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      “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 СКАЧАТЬ