Page 29 of Healing Hazel

“Yes, I... just now.” The captain turned his gaze to Jim, then to Dr. Laurent with eyes that seemed slightly unfocused.

“This man saved your life,” Jim said, motioning with his chin to Dr. Laurent.

Captain Bryant looked at the older man. “I am very thankful to you, Doctor.” His words were sincere and accompanied by a genuinely grateful smile.

Miss Thornton beamed.

“It was not I alone,” Dr. Laurent said, his cheeks and bald head reddening. “My associate, he treated you as well.”

“Thank you, Dr. Jackson,” Captain Bryant said.

“How do you feel?” Jim asked, embarrassed by the attention. He bent close, pulling up one eyelid and then the other to look closely at the patient’s pupils.

The captain blinked, his eyes focusing. “My head hurts,” he said. “Especially here.” He moved his hand to point at his forehead but did not touch it.

“That is where you suffered a laceration,” Jim said. He accepted the offered chart from Dr. Laurent. “Any pain in this area?” He pointed with his pencil to his own head to illustrate where the drainage hole had been made in the captain’s.

“Yes,” Captain Bryant said. He moved his head, then closed his eyes. “I beg your pardon; my head is swimming.”

Miss Thornton squeezed his hand. “It’s all right.” She spoke in a soothing voice that made Jim’s jaw clench.

To distract himself, he looked over the newly recorded numbers. Temper-ature and heart rate were both within the normal range. If the captain continued along this trajectory, he was set to make a complete physical recovery. Jim could not make the same assurance about the man’s mental state. His mind may never fully heal. The Red Cross Hospital was not equipped for that type of care anyway. Once the man was recovered enough to travel, he would likely need to convalesce in London.

“Has the patient eaten?” Jim asked Camila in Spanish.

“Just a bit of broth.”

“When he is ready, he should eat something more substantial,” Jim said, “but he should eat slowly.” Solid food would give the captain strength and speed his recovery.

“Yes, Doctor,” Camila said.

Miss Thornton looked between them. She seemed to be concentrating on their words, but from her confused expression, she hadn’t fully understood.

Jim didn’t take time to explain. His mouth tasted bitter, and he was irritated with his unexpected reaction to something that was very much none of his business. There was nothing he wanted more than to be far away from this situation. He gave the chart back to Dr. Laurent. “The patient should rest,” he said.

“I’ll come visit soon,” Miss Thornton said. She smoothed the bedsheets. “I’m so glad you’re awake, Captain.” She kissed his cheek again.

Jim promptly left. The bitter taste in his throat had moved down to churn in his stomach. He felt foolish at his reaction. Was he actually jealous? Was he so simple that a pair of gentle eyes were all it took to make him resent a patient?

He closed the ward door behind him and continued on toward his bedchamber, walking at a quick pace, as if he might be able to outrun his feelings. Of course, he couldn’t. Once he was inside his room, he lit a lamp and sat hard on his bed. An object in his pocket bumped against his leg. Jim sighed and took out the painting. Although his good sense told him to put it away, somehow, his reason seemed to have fled. Maybe he simply wished to torture himself.

He held the painting up close to the lamp, studying it. He’d thought when he’d first met Miss Hazel Thornton that the perfect word to describe her wassoft. But now he knew that was a simplification of a woman who was intelligent and determined and could, at times, be stubborn. And who, Jim realized, had unlocked something inside him that he’d avoided for years. He saved lives—cured people who were ill or hurt—but by letting Miss Thornton into his heart, he feared he couldn’t save himself from the inevitable pain it would cost.

Chapter 9

Hazel cupped water in herhand and let it run over the baby’s soft head, laughing as Nerea kicked and splashed water out of the basin. Droplets sprayed over Hazel. Her skirt was already soaked. “My goodness, Nerea! This is your bath, not mine.” She wiped her sleeve over her face.

The baby grabbed Hazel’s necklace in her fist. She kicked again, grinning with her toothless smile, and Hazel couldn’t help but grin back at the delight in the child’s face. She carefully pried the necklace from Nerea’s grip and tucked it back under her collar. “You love your bath, don’t you, dearest?” Once she was certain the soap was completely rinsed away, she wrapped Nerea in a clean towel, holding her close to keep her warm. “You’re all clean now. Won’t your mother be pleased to see you?” She bounced the baby as she walked her over to the folding table, speaking in a singsong voice. “Look at this beautiful baby. Nerea, you’re a beautiful baby.”

The laundry room was quiet today, as was the rest of the hospital. Most of the staff had gone with Dr. Jackson and Dr. Laurent on a rescue mission earlier that morning when they’d heard the sounds of fighting in the hills.

Hazel had remained behind with Dr. Ruiz and two other nurses. The three women had already prepared the empty beds with clean sheets and stocked operating rooms with bandages and surgical supplies in anticipation of the new patients, and having no pressing duties beyond regular checks of the patients, they had little to do now but wait.

Hazel swaddled the baby in clean linens, singing a lullaby she remembered from her ayah. Nerea was wide awake, her shining brown eyes watchful as Hazel carried her through the hospital, walking slowly in hopes that the baby would grow tired. The nurses had discovered over the past few nights that she would fall asleep only if she was being held. Perhaps the hospital basket was uncomfortable, or maybe this was how Jakinda had lulled her to sleep before they’d come to the hospital. Nerea was especially fitful at nighttime, so the nurses had taken turns walking her up and down the wards and passageways for hours, hoping to calm her.

Hazel didn’t mind the walking at all. She enjoyed her time with the baby, especially when Nerea’s head finally laid down on her shoulder and her breathing deepened. That was the moment Hazel loved. She didn’t imagine anything was quite as restorative to the soul as holding a sleeping infant.

She hummed softly as she walked into the West ward and stopped at Captain Bryant’s bed. He had been awake for a few hours earlier that morning and had seemed even stronger than the day before. Hazel was disappointed that he was asleep now.

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