by Lois Richer
“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?”
Jared never answered. His blue eyes fogged over in confusion as he studied the stones. When he paused at the exit, he studied her with unnerving intensity.
“I apologize for missing dinner last night. Perhaps I can make it up to you by treating you to lunch.”
“That’s not—”
“I’ll meet you by the sea in half an hour, Glory. And bring your swimsuit.”
“Yes, boss.”
He glanced over one shoulder, as if to check whether she was taunting him, then left.
“Well!” Nurse Kemper blinked. “A lunch invitation. That must be a first.”
“He’s just trying to be kind. I invited him for dinner last night and he canceled.”
“Yes.” The nurse nodded. “I heard Sister Philomena had a bad turn.”
“I must meet her, to thank her. She left tea and cookies with a note when I arrived.”
Nurse Kemper’s harsh face softened. “That’s her. She’s the sweetest thing. Agapé was originally her idea.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Oh, yes. She’s Elizabeth Wisdom’s cousin. That’s how Elizabeth became involved with Agapé.”
“I’d like to meet the sister.”
“She sometimes comes for tea, though I understand she’s recently become quite frail.” Nurse Kemper checked her watch. “I’d better get Toby ready for lunch.”
Nurse and child hurried away, chattering a mad combination of English and a language Glory didn’t recognize. She tidied the room, checked on Bennie, who was still asleep, then left the mission. It took only a few moments to change into her bathing suit, slip a beach dress overtop and grab her straw bag.
In her midsection, butterflies do-si-doed as Glory strolled down the path. But soon the pounding energy of the rolling surf washed away her tension. Excitement increased her gait. Somehow or other she was going to ask Jared the questions that lurked at the back of her mind and hope he answered them.
“You’re late.”
She jerked to a stop, startled by the sound of his voice. It came from below her. Glory kept walking until she arrived at the be
ach. Jared floated on the glassy smoothness of the sea, hands cupped behind his head, hair plastered against his skull.
“Come on in. The water’s great.” He dived beneath the azure sheen, skimming the bottom in strong motions that carried him a good distance out before he surfaced for breath.
“There’s a reef out here if you want to snorkel,” he called.
Glory nodded. She wasn’t comfortable enough to risk going out so far yet, so she contented herself with paddling back and forth across the little cove while Jared cleaved through the water in a perfect front crawl, passing her repeatedly and mocking her caution.
Laughing too hard to properly control her breathing, Glory waited until Jared swam far out then she left the water. She wrapped herself in a big bath sheet and perched on the warm surface of a huge flat-topped rock.
“With your hair hanging around your shoulders like that, you could be mistaken for a mermaid beckoning a gullible sailor.” Jared strode across the sand, breathing normally despite his exertions.
Glory couldn’t help noticing his deep rich tan or the fact that he had the lean, honed shape of an athlete. After toweling off he pulled on a T-shirt, wrapped the towel around his waist and produced a big wicker basket, which he set between them before joining her on the rock.
“I hope you’re hungry.”
“Only starved.” She licked her lips as he lifted out two plates of salad surrounded by a variety of crudités and cheese. “That looks perfect. Shall I say grace?”
He looked discomfited for only an instant before nodding. “Grace. Sure.”
“Thank You, Father, for this delicious food. Bless the hands that prepared it, bless us as we enjoy it and let us be used by You. Amen.”
“Amen.” He waited until she’d tasted the first bite. “Okay?”
“Perfect.” She munched happily away, enjoying the sharp bite of the dressing against the piquant flavor of the cheese. “I adore salads,” she told him.
He snapped off the end of a carrot with teeth a dentist would love. “Why?”
“I guess it’s because lettuce was never all that plentiful when I lived in the Arctic. Everything fresh has to be flown in and it costs the earth. It was a treat to have a salad. My mother would use every bit of produce, nothing went to waste.”
They sat silent, enjoying their food and the glorious day. A pod of whales appeared in the distance.
“I wonder if they’re the same kind we have at home.”
“I’ve never been to the Arctic.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“It’s cold,” he corrected.
Glory laughed. “Yes. But there are advantages.”
“To freezing most of the year?” Jared made a face. “Name one.”
It was the first time he’d been so carefree with her. His wrinkled T-shirt, a smudge of dirt on one shoulder, the mussed hair, the bit of dressing on his chin—all of it made him seem so human, so—touchable.
“No sunburn in the Arctic,” she shot back.
“Not ever?” He chewed for a moment. “What about the famous midnight sun? That must cause some trouble.”
“Well, yes, if you’re silly enough to stay out in it too long. Which I’m not,” she reminded as she let him take her plate. “Thank you. That was delicious.”
“You’re welcome. I have some coffee and pineapple, if you’re interested. And some haupia.”
“What is that?”
“Cold coconut-cream pudding made Hawaiian style.”
“Yum. Yes, I am very interested.” She waited till he’d served her. “Do you do this often?”
“Picnic by the sea?” He shook his head. “Not really.”
“Why not?”
“When I first came here I used to, but I guess after a while the thrill of living right next to the South Pacific kind of washed off.”
“Washed off. Very funny.” She leaned back to let the sun bathe her face, rested her back against another rock. “I don’t think I could ever tire of this. I love the water.”
“Did you go swimming in the Arctic? Is that even possible?”
“Most years we couldn’t because the water around us was too deep and too cold. But there was a hot springs about ten miles away from our village. My dad drove me there a couple of times in the summer. It was gorgeous.”
“Is that where you grew up?”
“My parents were missionaries to the Inuit. My mother felt Inuit mothers were the most skillful women she’d ever known. They taught her how to do their traditional handwork, to cook their way—everything.”
“Is she there still?
Glory shook her head. “No. She died when I was ten.”
“I’m sorry. And your father?”
“He loved to read. And they loved to hear him read to them. He’s gone now, too.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
His quiet voice helped her regroup.
“It’s all right. They’re in Heaven now.” She tasted a teaspoonful of the sweet dessert, savored it until she’d found enough nerve to say, “Can I ask you a question?”
“You can ask.”
Meaning he wouldn’t necessarily answer.
“One of the nurses told me Sister Philomena started the mission. That she’s Elizabeth Wisdom’s cousin.”
“True.” His face gave nothing away.
“She left me a carafe of tea and some cookies the night I arrived. I’d like to visit her, to thank her.”
A shadow fluttered through his eyes. A small tic appeared at the side of his mouth.
“I’ll be happy to take you to meet her another time, but today is out.”
“Sure. No problem.”
Dr. Steele had gone from an enjoyable companion to a block of ice in five seconds flat. Glory changed the conversation to something work related, but no matter what subject she touched on, she couldn’t recapture their earlier camaraderie, nor could she suppress a certain awareness that there was something Jared wasn’t saying.
A few minutes later his beeper went off and the interlude by the ocean was cut short before she could ask why he’d stopped grafting. They hurried back, slipped into their usual roles. Half the afternoon was gone before Glory realized she’d forgotten to thank him for the lunch, but when she had time to go looking, Jared Steele was nowhere to be found.
That evening for the third time in three days he was unavailable for a consult when patients arrived without warning. Glory and Dr. Potter struggled to handle two children in ICU with drug reactions. A host of other small but needy interruptions kept her moving as her workday stretched long into the night. She fell into bed at 4:00 a.m. for a couple of hours, then was summoned back to the mission, barely making it in time for rounds.
“Happy you could join us, Dr. Cranbrook.”
“Dr. Steele, Dr. Cranbrook—”
“It doesn’t matter, Leilani,” she interrupted, stopping the nurse’s explanation of events from the night before. “Let’s just get on with it.”
“Finding it difficult to balance party time and work time, Dr. Cranbrook?”
Glory ignored Jared’s snarky comment, though the same could be said about him. Apparently he’d had an even harder night than she had. His hair hung shaggy and mussed, a growth of beard shaded his jaw and his eyes were sunken and red-rimmed.
She cut him slack all through the day, but when he disappeared, leaving her on call again that evening, Glory was furious.
I’m losing my patience with him, Lord, she prayed silently as she checked a four-year-old for nasal infection. Why am I here?
As usual, the answer wasn’t there. Frustrated, Glory pressed on, struggling to make her weary body keep giving. At three-thirty in the morning, after checking on Bennie for the third time, she took a break on the patio with one of the nurses, savoring the cooling breeze combined with the flavor of strong tea laced with thick cream.
“This shortage of staff is too hard on you doctors,” the nurse murmured.
G
lory nodded, tilted her head back and rested it against the chair and watched a spider climb up a pagoda-style landscape light.
“I hope Ms. Wisdom can find someone else soon. At this rate, you and Dr. Steele are going to get sick and there won’t be anyone for the children. He’s just like you—stubborn as a mule. Won’t take even a moment off.”
Glory frowned, sat up. Far out over the ocean lightning speared the water. The wind picked up, rustled the palm leaves surrounding them. Camellia blooms tumbled down, showering both of them in pink petals.
“At least Dr. Steele is home sleeping.” Glory brushed the blossoms from her lap, took another sip of tea, hoping there was enough caffeine to keep her eyes open.
The nurse hooted with laughter.
“I wish he was sleeping. Then he’d be a little less difficult to get on with in the morning.”
“Where is he, then?”
“With Sister Philomena.”
“Oh. Visiting.” That could hardly be as stressful as this.
“Sort of. She’s just gone through her first round of chemo and she’s not feeling very well. But then at eighty-seven, that’s hardly surprising.”
“She has cancer?”
The nurses nodded, her eyes sad.
“Dr. Steele noticed she was flagging last autumn, and when she wouldn’t go to Honolulu for tests, he took her himself. We could hardly believe it when he told us. How could God let a sweet precious woman like that get cancer?”
“I don’t know.”
“Just doesn’t seem right to me. Thank the Lord she’s got Dr. Steele sitting by her bed through the night, caring for her.”
So that’s where he’d been.
“Couldn’t she have a private nurse?”
“She could, I guess. If one would come. Nurses are in short supply in Hawaii, Dr. Cranbrook. Just like everywhere else. They can pick and choose where they want to work. Most don’t choose an isolated place like this, even fewer choose an old woman in a shabby house with no money to pay them.”
“Of course she’s poor. I didn’t think of that.”
“She had some money to retire on, but Sister Phil gave every cent she ever got to keep this place going. I’m pretty sure Elizabeth and Dr. Steele chip in, though neither would mention it.”
“I see.” Glory remained outside after the other woman had left, pondering the situation as the wind cleared her mind. So Jared Steele was nursing Sister Philomena all night and trying to work a regular day, as well.