Page 28 of Healing Hazel

“Yes.” She took a small book from her apron pocket. When she turned the cover, he saw it was a Spanish-to-English dictionary.

“May I?” Jim asked.

She handed him the book, and he glanced through. A sheet of paper was tucked between the pages, and he saw that she’d made notes of particular words, their translations, and their pronunciation.

“Very useful,” he said, giving the book back.

She put it back in her pocket. “It is.”

The conversation was becoming more uncomfortable by the moment when he at last recalled his original purpose for seeking her out. “I noticed a windup fan in the West ward,” he said, pleased that he’d remembered a topic that could lead to a normal discussion.

“Does a fan violate hospital rules?” Her brows were no longer lifted, and her forehead was smooth. She tipped her head to the side, her expression defensive.

“No, of course not,” Jim said quickly. “I was simply curious about it. The item is very unique. Did you make it?”

“It was a gift.”

“I see.”

“If that is all, Doctor, I should return to my duties.” Her expression was polite, but there was no warmth in it. She apparently still felt the sting from his reprimand.

Having nothing else to say, Jim nodded and watched as she started toward the lines of sheets drying on the other side of the cloister.

Camila came through the door then, and seeing him, she hurried over. “Dr. Jackson!” She started an explanation, motioning toward the ward behind her and speaking so quickly that he had difficulty understanding.

“Despacio,” Jim said, motioning for her to speak more slowly. Though his mastery of the language had improved immensely over the past months, he still had difficulty when people spoke too fast.

She started again, sounding excited but managing to speak at a more understandable rate. This time Jim understood. “Dr. Laurent sent me to fetch you. The soldier Captain Bryant is awake.”

“Captain Bryant?” Miss Thornton turned abruptly and hurried back. She darted her gaze between the two of them, her expression looking anxious. “Camila, what has happened? Dr. Jackson, what did she say?”

“The captain has awoken,” Jim said.

“At last!” Miss Thornton clasped her hands together and ran off to the ward without another word.

“Gracias, Camila,” Jim said, smiling at Miss Thornton’s reaction. Seeing the brightness in her eyes was a pleasure, especially after the cool way she’d treated him lately. He started toward the doorway Miss Thornton had just gone through, but seeing something from the corner of his eye, he paused. Miss Westbrook had left something on the bench. He lifted it. It was a small frame, and within... Jim stared, and his stomach did a slow roll. The subject of the painting was Miss Thornton, who seemed to have been caught in a moment of surprise. The image was bewitching. The artist had captured the young lady’s likeness expertly. And not just her appearance. The small portrait seemed to contain her very essence.

Jim blinked, remembering what the women had been saying when he’d approached them in the garden. The picture was intended for someone. He put it in his pocket and started toward the West ward. But as he walked, an uncomfortable feeling nagged at him, like an itch he couldn’t reach or a rock in his shoe. Was this picture meant for Captain Bryant?

Jim felt foolish that he hadn’t realized it before. Why else would the pair be traveling together with a chaperone if they were not... together? A burning sensation grew in his chest, and Jim was irritated at the discomfort.

He stepped through the doorway and came to Captain Bryant’s bedside as Miss Thornton pulled back from embracing the man and kissed his cheek.

The burning sensation returned.

“Miss Thornton?” Captain Bryant’s voice was hoarse. He cleared his throat and glanced at the others. “Where... ?”

Camila handed him a glass of water and helped him drink.

Dr. Laurent gave Jim a pleased smile. The patient’s vital signs must be favorable.

“You’re in the International Red Cross Hospital in Santa Rosa,” Miss Thornton said, arranging the pillows behind him.

Captain Bryant leaned back. “I don’t remember...” He lifted his hand to touch the bandages on his head.

“Careful.” Miss Thornton caught his hand. “You are injured.” She sat on the edge of the bed beside him, still holding his hand. “There was an accident on the train. We’ve been so worried about you, Captain.”

Jim pulled his gaze from the pair’s joined hands. “Dr. Jim Jackson,” he said, introducing himself. “And you’ve already met Dr. Laurent?”

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