Page 23 of A Zephyr Rising
His blue eyes were sharp.“Are you quite well?”
“I don’t know.”She cleared her throat and straightened, favoring the ankle which had given her trouble.“I seem to have injured my ankle last night helping the boy’s mother flee from her house.”
Dr.Clark raised his brows.“Flee her house?”
“It’s a long story.”The vicinity was filled with other patients and medical personnel, the ward rather public.She wanted to believe the doctors and nurses here were so dedicated to serving others, they wouldn’t treat Charlie with the same xenophobic fervor she’d witnessed the past few days.But if she’d learned anything, it was to be more cautious in what she said.
Dr.Clark offered his arm.“Perhaps you could share it with me in the privacy of my office?It would be an excellent opportunity for me to examine your ankle as well.”
Ginger hesitated, taking a glance at Charlie.“I don’t want to leave the child by himself.My brother’s gone to rest at my aunt’s house.”
“I think the boy will sleep for some time.”
Ginger placed her hand on Dr.Clark’s arm.He was a tall, lanky man.Though she wasn’t short of stature, he made her feel dwarfed.Her ankle throbbed, and she supported herself on his arm as he led her through a corridor.He gave her a shy smile as he opened a door for her.Holding it open as he continued to hold her other arm, she had to pass under his extended arm.
“It might be better if I support myself on the door—” she said when Dr.Clark let go of the door.It swung closed rapidly and hit Ginger in the forehead “—oof!”
Dr.Clark yanked the door open once more and stared at her from the doorway, frozen in horror at what he’d done.Then, snapping to attention, he helped her stand.“Terribly sorry.I’m a bit clumsy, you see, and I didn’t intend to knock you over.”
“I’m perfectly fine, thank you.”Ginger brushed away the impulse to feel irritated that came naturally.He’d done nothing wrong, after all.She smoothed her skirt and gave him a taut smile and then noticed the earnestness of his expression, the redness of his cheeks.
She offered a more genuine smile and an attempt at humor.“It’s not every day a doctor almost injures me while trying to treat my existing injury.”
It wasn’t a very good joke.She cringed inwardly as his blush deepened.
“I’m so sorry, Lady Virginia?—”
She’d better appear more congenial, and quickly.Though he was a stranger and she knew nothing of him, she said in a smooth tone, “Please.Call me Ginger.”
He blinked, a surprised look in his eyes.
Then he knew a thing or two about how to address titled ladies properly.Her offer of friendship hadn’t gone unnoticed.“Ah—is it Ginger because of the remarkable shade of hair you have?”
She smiled.“No, though it’s always been a joke in my family.I’m named after my paternal grandmother—Lady Virginia Whitman, Dowager Countess of Braddock.My immediate family calls me Ginny.But on my mother’s side, they always called me Ginger and my brother Henry, ‘Harry.’”She stopped, feeing imbecilic.She’d yammered on about family names enough.
He fidgeted with his glasses.“I’m James.James Clark.”Then he scrunched his nose.“But, you know that.”
The awkward tension in the room filled the space between them again.Ginger shifted.She pointed to a chair in front of a large desk.“May I sit?”
“Oh.Of course, of course.”James hurried over and held the chair for her.
Ginger eased herself into it.“Thank you.”
James knelt in front of her and gestured toward her ankle.“May I?”
Ginger nodded.He tugged her long skirt up a few inches.He frowned at the stocking over her ankle.Moving his gaze back and forth between her ankles, he settled back.“From what little I can see, the left ankle appears to be swollen.Would you mind removing the stocking?”
She clasped her hands together on her lap.“May I have a moment alone?”
He exited out the door.“I’ll be just outside.Please call me when you’re ready.I’ll leave the door open a crack so I can hear you.”He turned, his back to the door, barely visible through the small slit.
The privacy allowed her some time to examine the small office.Drawn blinds obscured the light from the late morning sun.Shelves filled with bottles and books took up most of the space—not at all surprising.Very little she could use to bring up conversationally, though.
She admired him.Not only because of all the medical books with titles she didn’t dare pronounce.But because he was a man who helped the hurt.With a gentleness and kindness she could only aspire to.She hadn’t expected that about him either, given the behavior of the man who had referred him.Dr.Morgan could use some lessons from his friend.
She pulled up her skirt and unfastened the garter.Rolling the stocking down, she paused at her ankle and removed her shoe.She saw nothing on her ankle.“Oh, really, Ginger, don’t be such a ninny,” she muttered to herself in a low voice.
“What’s that?”James called from the doorway.
