Page 36 of Healing Hazel

The kiss lasted only a short moment, but it was different from anything he’d felt before. It was nothing like a schoolboy’s stolen kiss or a young man’s lighthearted flirtation. This kiss changed everything. It changed him, deepening the emotions he already feared had grown beyond his capacity to manage. And his immediate instinct was to put up walls against this fresh vulnerability, especially against the glimmer of hope that had forced its way inside his heart. Because any plan for a future with Hazel was nothing more than a wish. She wouldn’t stay here once her friends were well enough to leave. Her home was in London. And he could imagine her there, caring for patients in a hospital that was not under constant threat and was lacking basic medical necessities. He sighed. Hazel deserved better than this. Wishes were for fools.

Chapter 11

Hazel remained on the benchin the cloister after Dr. Jackson left. She touched her lips, feeling as if they must be buzzing. An evening breeze blew over her, but it didn’t cool the heat that spread inside of her. She leaned back, watching the moon and trying to make sense of what had happened. And, even more, trying to understand her reaction to it.

Dr. Jackson’s declaration had come as a surprise. She had been certain he held no pleasant feelings toward her. But this... A delicious shiver moved through her at the memory of his touch. Even more surprising than his words—than his kiss, even—was her reaction to them. It was as if his admission had awoken something inside her. But that something didn’t seem to be new. It had been there all along, and she’d simply not recognized it. What was it? Attraction? Tenderness? When she tried to give it a name, none felt fully correct. Her sentiment was a combination of emotions, some completely new and others familiar but, in this case, shaped differently.

As she considered, another emotion entered the mix. A feeling of uncertainty made a cold emptiness where there had been a pleasant warmth. Their situation was temporary. As soon as Captain Bryant and Nella were able to resume travel, Hazel would leave. Dr. Jackson must know that. He must know there was no future for them together. Did he hope for a short-lived... tryst? Her cheeks went hot at the thought. She didn’t think he was the type of man for such a thing. And his affection had felt genuine. But what did she know of men? Aside from her father and uncle—and now Captain Bryant—she’d hardly spent time with any man. Perhaps this was exactly how a tryst happened. And while the idea of a secret romance in a foreign land was exciting, the idea didn’t sit easy with her.

The emotions awoken with Dr. Jackson’s kiss were too real—too strong to simply be played around with and tossed aside when the time came. His feelings must not be the same as hers.

She left the cloister, feeling naive, embarrassed, and extremely foolish.

Seeing Dr. Laurent in the passageway, she called out, “Doctor, if you have a moment...”

He turned, and his round face lit up. “Good evening, mademoiselle. I always have a moment for you.” When she got closer, his brows rose, and he looked closely at her. “You look flushed,ma chérie. Are you unwell?”

“Just tired, I imagine,” she said, waving her hand in a lighthearted manner.

“Ah, oui. Zhat must be it.” But he continued to study her.

She didn’t think he believed her attempt to appear carefree, but she continued on. “Doctor, I helped Jakinda write a letter. It is for her husband, but I don’t know how to send it to him. I’d hoped Mikel’s father might take it, but with her condition... declining”—Hazel swallowed at the tightness in her throat—“I thought he should have it as soon as possible.” Her voice was unsteady as she took the envelope from her apron pocket.

“Oui.” Dr. Laurent pursed his lips as if he were considering her words. “Zhe priest, padre de Leon, he should be able to travel undisturbed to Santa Rosa.”

The idea hadn’t even occurred to Hazel. It was perfect. Nobody—from either army—would bother a churchman. It would be the most natural thing in the world for him to visit a fellow man of the cloth whose town was recovering from an attack. “Do you think he’d be willing?” she asked.

“I believe he would,” Dr. Laurent said. His face had softened, and the sympathy in it made her throat tighten again. “I will speak to him if you would like.”

“Thank you,” Hazel said, relieved that she didn’t need to attempt the communication. She was so tired, and the idea of explaining the letter, the baby, and Jakinda’s condition in a language she had only the most tenuous grasp on... it was more than she was capable of tonight.

“You are so very compassionate.” Dr. Laurent put a hand on her shoulder. “But zhere is another side of zhe coin, no? With zhe caring, your heart, it is open to hurting.”

A tear slipped down Hazel’s cheek. “I shouldn’t have allowed myself to grow so close to her—to either of them. It was a mistake, wasn’t it?” A real nurse would never have developed such an attachment to a patient and her child.

“It was not a mistake at all,” Dr. Laurent said. “Once you lose this”—he tapped his chest—“once you stop seeing each patient as an individual, once you stop loving, you lose your empathy. And you must never lose zhat. Zhe way you care for your patients, your soft heart, it makes you special.”

“Thank you,” Hazel whispered, taking his offered handkerchief and wiping her eyes. Once she had control of her voice again, she smiled. “I am very grateful to you, both for your kind words and for seeing to the letter.”

“Of course, mademoiselle. It is my great pleasure.”

Dr. Laurent’s encouragement and wisdom touched her deeply, and Hazel felt a strong desire to embrace him. But she had already kissed one doctor this evening, she reminded herself. If she was going to preserve her reputation, she needed to remember to act professionally. She folded the handkerchief and returned it to him, bidding her friend good night.

As she continued along the passageway, Hazel met Camila, who was carrying Nerea on the baby’s nightly constitutional. The nurse had a way of walking with a gentle bounce that soothed the infant. Hazel whispered a greeting and peeked at the sleeping baby before she continued on. Before retiring, she would visit her traveling companions and Jakinda to bid them good night, as was her custom.

She lit a lamp and walked through the West ward, stopping at Captain Bryant’s bedside.

He smiled when he saw her, but his lamp was dark, and he squinted at the light hers gave.

“How does your head feel, Captain?” She set down the lamp on a table away from his bed, coming closer in the dim light.

“Aches a bit,” he said. “But getting better every day.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Hazel tried to keep her voice cheerful, but his headaches were worrying. The day before, Captain Bryant had requested something to read, but she saw that the books and newspapers she’d brought hadn’t been moved from the chair next to his bed. Reading must be painful. “Rest now, and I’ll visit tomorrow.”

“I look forward to it,” Captain Bryant said. His eyes were already closed. She smoothed the sheets over him, patted his hand, and bid him good night.

Hazel continued on, discovering that Nella had been transferred to the West ward. In fact, it seemed quite a few patients had been moved around. Nella sat in a chair, her bound foot resting on her bed as she knitted. “There you are,” she said when she saw Hazel. “I was starting to worry I wouldn’t see you tonight.”

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