Outpost Hospital

by Sheila Ridley

  “Tonight? In the middle of all this fuss?” he asked and then added slowly, “That must mean it’s someone here in Ngombe. And there’s only Dr. Mastingley and ... and myself.” His eyes held hers, and a gleam came into them as he said very softly, “Katherine, my dear.”

  She could hardly believe it was really happening. She had dreamed of such a moment for so long. Was she dreaming now? Or did wonderful things sometimes happen to ordinary girls like her?

  Mark raised himself from his pillow, and she said anxiously, “No. You must lie still. Please.” She put her hands on his shoulders and tried to ease him back. “Dr. Mastingley will be angry if I let you—”

  “Damn Dr. Mastingley. How can I put my arms around you and kiss you if I can’t sit up?”

  “Well ... if I kneel beside the bed—like this—and put my hand under your head, and if I lean over, I think you could perhaps ... manage?”

  He did manage, very well.

  A little later, his arms still tightly around her, he whispered, “You were right about this awful business being a blessing in disguise, darling Pollyanna. We might never have known we were in love if the hospital had not caught fire, might we?” He turned his head to kiss her throat and cheek and, as his lips found hers again, Katherine thought fleetingly of the long, lonely months when she had yearned for the smallest sign of friendship from him; of her joy when they seemed to be drawing closer; her despair when she realized they were as far apart as ever. But that was all over now. Perhaps she would tell him about it one day, but not tonight.

  At last she could say aloud the words she had said so often in her heart. “Darling Mark, I love you so much.” Just now, that was all she wanted to say.