by Clare Revell
Jael sighed and taking the box, exited the plane. She walked up the steps onto the porch only to find a woman in an apron brandishing a broom. Jael retreated down the steps.
Micah laughed from where he sat.
Jael’s face burned with humiliation. What was it with these people? “Are you going to help or just stand there?” she yelled at Micah.
He grinned at her and got out of the plane. He crossed the small space and went over to the woman, speaking rapid Tiampian. Then, he beckoned Jael over.
She slowly headed back, although she really just wanted to go home.
Micah grinned. “You got dirt all over her clean porch. They believe that to be bad luck.”
“Tell her I’m sorry.”
Micah turned back to the woman and had another rapid-fire conversation with her. “She says leave your shoes at the bottom of the steps and you can come in. She also doesn’t believe you’re a nurse, because you’re wearing a dress.”
Beginning to wish she’d never left England, Jael bent and unfastened her shoes. She slowly went up the steps and followed the woman into the house. At least Micah followed her this time and translated for her.
The next six visits were all in the same vein. All of them were dressing changes involving semi-irate patients, who didn’t like the time of the visit, or her clothes, or her lack of language skills, or a combination of all three. Totally dejected, Jael leaned back in her seat as Micah took off. She closed her eyes. Maybe this wasn’t what God wanted her to do after all. Maybe she should just contact head office and have them send someone else. Or ring the hospital and see if they needed her back there, because then she’d have an excuse to go home without losing face.
Micah glanced at her. “Not what you imagined, huh?”
“No,” she whispered.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet. Wait until the next visit. Mr. Finch. His wife is bedridden. They live on a plantation to the north, and its something different to what you’ve done so far.”
“Oh?” She looked at him.
“Bedsores and a dressing change.”
“Great,” she whispered.
Micah brought the plane into land hard and fast. “There’s a tree fallen across the end of the runway. We had to come in a bit short. Might be hard taking off, we’ll have to see. I’ll turn her around while you’re inside, but I’ll get your stuff over the tree for you first.”
She nodded slowly. Taking the pack, she climbed from the plane and followed him to the tree. It was huge, but Micah made short work clambering over it.
“Toss me the pack and come on over.”
She threw the pack and gazed at the tree. “I don’t know that I can.”
“Why not?”
“In a dress?”
He gave a short laugh. “And? You wanted to wear a dress and heels.”
She hitched up her skirt, just grateful Micah didn’t comment as he got a good glimpse of her legs and stockings, but still she couldn’t do it.
A whistle came from the other side of the tree and Jael’s face burned. Someone else was there. She turned away, tears filling her eyes. Could today possibly get any worse? “Forget it,” she said. “We’ll come back tomorrow. Once the tree is cleared.”
Micah climbed back over the tree. “Hey, I’ll speak to him, tell him that’s inappropriate. He’s just a kid, didn’t know any better.” He tucked her hair back behind her ears. “Don’t let something like this scare you off. I know we don’t know each other well yet, but you don’t strike me as the type of person to quit at the first hurdle. Well, as trees go, it’s a pretty big hurdle, but even so. I have spare clothes in the locker at the back of the plane. Go put them on. I’ll wait here for you. We’re here now and you can be in and out in ten minutes, just like the others.”
“Thanks…” She all but ran back to the plane. Hopefully it’d be scrubs, but she doubted it. The clothes turned out to be shorts and shirt belonging to Micah.
There was no room on the plane to change, so she reluctantly stood behind the wing, hoping it’d shield her. Glancing at the two men she yelled, “Turn around.” She waited until they had before turning her back on them. She changed into the shorts and did them up before tugging off her dress and stockings. The shorts were way too big, as was the shirt. A couple of safety pins from the first aid kit inserted into the waist band solved the short problem.
Jael rolled the shirt sleeves up to her elbows and knotted the fabric firmly around her waist. She slid her feet back into her shoes, regretting the heels now. Tomorrow she’d dress differently. Turning, she made her way back to the tree.
Micah grinned. “Wow, looks so much better on you than on me, honey.”
She pulled a face. “Thanks.”
“Any time. Now try.”
She rushed up, catching her heel, but she managed it. Micah grabbed her hand, helping her over the last little bit. She smiled. “Thank you.”
“Welcome.”
The kid beside him paused from sawing bits off the tree. “Sorry, missus,” he said in broken English.
She nodded.
Micah jerked his head. “This way. We’re late now. The Finches speak English so you’ll be fine.”
She made her way up to the house and knocked on the door. Mr. Finch let her in and took her up to the bedroom.
Mrs. Finch turned out to be the sweetest lady, and younger than Jael imagined. They chatted as Jael treated the bedsores and changed the dressing. “Jael is an unusual name, dear.”
“It’s from the Bible. Mum loved the story about the young girl killing a villain with a tent peg and named me after her.”
Mrs. Finch smiled. “And do you carry a tent peg with you?”
Jael shook her head. “Micah keeps asking me the same thing. Days like today I wish I did.”
“Micah isn’t that bad once you get to know him.”
Jael looked out of the window. Micah worked with the other men, helping move bits of the fallen tree. “Really?”
“You’ll see.”
Jael packed up. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She headed outside.
Micah grabbed the pack and hurried her back over the tree to the plane. “We’re way behind now, come on. You’re not paid to sit and chat.”
Jael shook her head. She’d never come across anyone as impatient as Micah before. Another reason the flash of attraction earlier had to go away and stay away. She sat back in her seat, aware of his gaze lingering on her legs for a moment before he turned back to the controls.
He kept quiet as he maneuvered the plane, somehow managing to take off in the space available to him.
“Are you sure you don’t carry a tent peg in your bag to ward of men who don’t behave?” he asked once they were airborne.
Only for rude and arrogant pilots… “No, otherwise I might be tempted to use it.” She regretted the words instantly.
“Really?”
“Yeah, but I try not to yield to temptation.”
“My grandmother’s favorite hymn, that,” he commented. He whistled the first verse.
“Haven’t heard that one in years.”
He grinned. “I was raised an Anglican, but I’m more of a free evangelical now. What about you?”
“The same.”
“Which church sent you?”
“Headley Baptist.”
His head spun around and his eyes widened. “Seriously? My cousin goes there. You might know her—April Kincaid.”
Jael thought for a moment. “Oh, she runs the theatre.”
Micah nodded. “Yeah.”
“Small world after all, isn’t it?”
“It can be.” Micah banked the plane to the left.
The angle of the plane gave her a clear, uninterrupted view of the towering volcano. She gazed at it. Had the snow melted slightly on one side of the summit? Maybe the sun simply shone more on that side. As she watched, the birds rose into the sky, flying away quickly. Below them, a tree toppled and fell. Another fallen tree.
&nbs
p; “So, your next task on the list is…” Micah’s voice jerked her back to the matter in hand.
Jael rolled her eyes. “Let me guess. Dressing change number nine?”
Micah simply smirked.
3
Jael smoothed down her shirt and looked at the computer screen. She was mid e-mail to Kyle.
Anyway, I decided scrubs would be easier for the clinic and slacks and shirt for the rest of the home visits. I’m putting a spare set of scrubs on the plane though just in case. The people on the base are friendly enough. Oh, and guess what? The pilot here, Micah, is related to April Kincaid. Cousin or something. He has a weird sense of humor. He insisted on checking my stuff for tent pegs before we left East Timor. Shame I didn’t bring any.
Micah stuck his head around the door. “Five minutes.”
“OK.”
Better go. Leaving in five for what promises to be another riveting day of dressing changes. Jael glanced at the glass of water on the table. The liquid was moving. She had read this area was prone to tremors as was the rest of Indonesia. She just hadn’t expected them to be part of every day life.
Did you get the photos I sent by text? If not I’ll e-mail them from my phone. Give my love to Holly and Bump. Does Bump have a name yet? Love you all. Jxx.
She hit send and logged off.
“Jay—el. Today would be nice.” Micah’s voice echoed down the hallway.
“Coming.” She rose and trotted down the corridor to find him. She hated it when Kyle elongated her name like that, but when Micah did it…it was more cute than annoying. At least it made a change from honey.
He stood in the clinic with the clipboard. “Here. Same order as yesterday.”
Jael shook her head. “I promised the Blanchets we’d be there at eleven.”
“No can do.”
“Change it.”
He shook his head.
“It’s too early for them. They have cattle to tend to.” She resisted the urge to stamp her foot as she tugged the map from his pocket. “And it’s not out of your way to swap them with the Villiers, who would find an earlier time slot easier. Look.”
“The route remains as is.”
“Don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud. A change of schedule won’t kill you.” Her voice rose to match the level of his.
Danny came into the room. “What’s going on?” As both of them spoke at once, he raised a hand. “Ladies first.”
Micah scowled.
“I told the Blanchets we’d be there at eleven because nine is too early for them. Micah is refusing to change his route.”
“It means doubling back,” Micah snarled. “And I’m not wasting fuel…”
“No, it doesn’t.” Jael spoke over him, her temper getting the better of her. “Because Mr. Dominquez would find it easier if he was home to let us in, rather than having to make a special trip in from the plantation at eleven. So simply swap those two over if you don’t want to do the Villiers, although they want us earlier as well.”
“Give me the map,” Danny said. “And the list of visits.”
Micah scowled but handed them over.
Danny studied the map. “She’s right. Just swap those three around. If anything it’ll reduce your flying time by about half an hour.”
“Thank you.” Jael took the clipboard. “I’ll go pack up what I need.” She headed into the dispensary, ignoring the two men arguing behind her.
Steve, one of the other medics and a pilot as well, raised an eyebrow. “You’ve upset Micah by the sounds of it.”
Jael shoved what she needed into her pack. “Because I’m right and he’s wrong.”
“That would do it. He hates being told he’s wrong, but then who doesn’t? He’s set in his ways.”
“Well, that’s going to change,” she muttered. “Who does the visit order anyway?”
“Micah.”
“From tomorrow I’ll do it.”
Steve laughed. “Have fun with that. He’s up at five-thirty to do that and everything else.”
Jael made a mental note to be up at five and then keep the visit order with her. She picked up the pack. “OK, I’m outta here. See you this afty.” She ran down the hall, losing her balance slightly.
A hand caught her and yanked her upright. “Oops-a-daisy.” Micah’s already familiar smirk filled her field of vision.
“Thank you.” She noticed the water in the fish tank moving. “See that?”
“You must have caught it when you tripped. Let’s go.”
Jael shook her head. “I didn’t touch the tank.”
“You must have.” He took the pack from her. “Come on, time’s a’wasting.”
She rolled her eyes. She’d have to ask Danny to pay her for every time Micah said that. She’d be able to retire inside of a week.
****
Micah glanced at Jael as he flew. At least she was in more suitable attire this morning, although canvas shoes were not a good idea. At any rate not once the rains started, but she’d learn the hard way—same as yesterday. There was just no telling some people. And the shirt and slacks showed off her figure beautifully. Although it was a shame she wasn’t in shorts. She had legs that should be admired, not hidden.
He wondered if she was this stubborn with all men, or just with him. That stubbornness off-set her beauty. As it was, he wasn’t surprised she was single.
Him being the obvious exception to that.
He prided himself on the fact that no woman ever wanted him. Or he would if pride weren’t a sin. He’d asked a couple of women on dates in the past, because he felt he had to. But the ‘dates’ had been cold and if he were honest, he had more fun going out with his sister. She at least understood and accepted him for who he was and didn’t expect to be kissed goodnight at the end of the evening.
Neither did he ‘bat for the other side’ as his father so quaintly put it. No, siree. Marriage and kids weren’t for him. He was thirty-four, single, and happy. And planning on staying that way. And stubborn. Too stubborn for his own good according to his mother.
Jael was right about visiting the Dominquez plantation first. If they didn’t have to sit and wait for Mr. Dominquez to get back to the house, they’d be in and out much faster. But when the rainy season started they’d have to switch it back.
Jael tapped his arm. “Micah, down there. Someone’s waving.”
He looked down and frowned. “Doesn’t look good.” He dipped the wings. “I’d better land, see what they want. I’ll circle and aim for the strip.” He nodded to the radio. “Tell Danny. We’re at the Tomsytt Farm.”
While Jael spoke into the radio, Micah concentrated on bringing the plane down safely. The strip seemed to be at an odd angle. Most likely it simply needed re-laying like the one at the base did.
As soon as the plane landed, he and Jael jumped out. Not knowing what to expect, he grabbed one of her boxes as she took the pack.
Mrs. Tomsytt came running over. “Thank heaven you came so quickly. I’ve only just radioed. A tree fell. My husband is trapped underneath it. The men are trying to free him, but there is a lot of blood.”
Micah translated for Jael.
“Tree’s don’t just fall,” Jael said. She sounded matter of fact, but concern etched itself into her brow.
“This one did. Quickly.” Mrs. Tomsytt ran towards the tree line.
Micah kept pace with Jael as they followed. He didn’t want to picture what they’d find when they got there. It was worse than he imagined. The tree was huge and leafy. It didn’t look dead or decayed at all. There was no reason he could see for it to simply fall. Several men surrounded the tree, trying to saw pieces off it to free Mr. Tomsytt.
Jael looked at him. “Tell them to stop while I examine him.” She knelt beside Mr. Tomsytt and took his wrist.
His eyelids flickered and opened.
She smiled as she snapped on the gloves. “Hi. I’m Jael, a nurse. Just going to see how you’re doing.”
Micah translated, watching
her every move.
She caught his eye. “His pulse is thready.” She felt along the length of his leg, reaching as far under the tree as she could.
“What are you checking for?”
“The pulse along his legs.” She pulled out her hand, her face falling as she caught sight of the amount of blood on her gloves. “There’s no longer a pulse, and he’s bleeding out. We need to move him, now.”
Micah nodded. He looked up and spoke rapidly in Tiampian. “There isn’t time to cut the tree. We need to lift it.” He glanced around and picked up one of the branches. He slid it under the tree to show them what he meant.
****
Jael turned to the man, speaking hesitant Malay, hoping he understood. “What’s your name?”
“Wilhelm.”
“Unusual name,” she said.
“My grandfather was Dutch,” he replied in English.
She caught her breath. “You speak English?” That would make everything so much simpler for her.
He nodded. “I do. I know my leg is bad. I can’t feel my foot.”
“Nothing we can’t put right. They’re going to lift the tree off you and then we’ll slide you out.” She glanced over at Micah, trying not to ogle him too much. He’d taken off his shirt. His muscles rippled along the length of his arms and across his shoulders. Sweat beaded his brow.
“Are you OK to pull him out?” he asked.
Jael nodded. “Yes.”
“OK. On three. That’s treigo.” He looked at the other men and revered back to Tiampian.
As he said treigo, Jael grabbed Wilhelm’s shoulders and pulled. He moved, gasping in pain, but not enough to be clear of the tree trunk. “Need more,” she called.
The men grunted as they pushed harder.
Jael pulled Wilhelm free. His leg immediately gushed blood, and his head fell to the side. Jael glanced up. “Micah…need some help.” She clamped one hand over Wilhelm’s leg, the other frantically feeling for a pulse, and was relieved to find one. That meant he’d passed out rather than crashed.
Micah grabbed a pair of gloves and pulled them on. “What do you need?”
“Put pressure on this.”
He slid his hands under hers. “OK, got it.”