Page 38 of Healing Hazel

Hazel pulled away. “Her scarf.” She moved to the other side of the bed, where the scarf sat on the table. Someone must have removed it as they’d tried to cool her fever. She pulled the sheet down and wrapped the scarf carefully back around Jakinda’s head, tying it at the nape of her neck. She studied the woman’s face in the lamplight. The tightness around her eyes was gone, and her lips were slack. She looked peaceful.

Hazel peeked into the basket, but the baby wasn’t there. She was most likely being walked through the halls or fed.

She returned the sheet to cover Jakinda’s face and glanced at the folded clothes on the shelf beneath the table. They were cleaned and mended, and she’d imagined Jakinda would have been pleased to see they were taken care of when she dressed to return home.

The sight of Jakinda’s one shoe struck something inside Hazel, cracking it and allowing all her sorrow to pour out. She pressed a hand against her mouth, closing her eyes tight against the rush of tears. The idea that Jakinda wouldn’t be buried with a proper pair of shoes felt like more than she could bear.

Dr. Jackson took her away, guiding her from the ward and through the passageway toward her bedchamber. “You need to rest,” he said.

“We left her shoe.” She choked out the words. “It is still buried in the rocks by her house.”

“Nothing can be done about it tonight.” Dr. Jackson didn’t pause but continued to lead her along the darkened passageway. “Let your mind be at ease.” Lamplight cast shadows over the high arches of the stone ceilings. He tightened his arm around her.

When they reached the right door, she stopped. “It is here.” She took the key from her pocket but stopped. She couldn’t bring herself to open it. “I don’t want...” She glanced at him, but she was too tired for embarrassment. “Please, I don’t want to be alone.” The thought of Jakinda in the cold chamber beneath the hospital sent a chill over her. She swallowed at the ache as she imagined the empty bed with the little basket beside it.

“Are you hungry?” A shadow covered his face, concealing his expression, but his voice was gentle.

Hazel shook her head. “Might we walk? Just for a few moments, until I feel calm?”

“As long as you need.” He took her hand, waiting for her to choose the direction they would take.

Hazel turned back toward the main area of the hospital. She walked slowly, letting her thoughts wind down. This must be how Nerea felt in the evenings. Anxious and simply in need of a reassuring stroll around the passageways to soothe her.

“I spoke to Dr. Laurent,” Dr. Jackson said. “He told me padre de Leon plans to go to Santa Rosa at first light with the letter you wrote.”

A sting of disappointment bit into Hazel’s heart. “I’d hoped the letter would reach Ramiro sooner—to give him an opportunity to come to the hospital before...”

“I know.”

She sighed at the reminder that the letter would arrive just a day too late. “What will happen now with Nerea?”

“A relative will raise her, I imagine,” Dr. Jackson said. “If her father is away fighting.”

Hazel wondered if the relative would know to warm the milk just until it was skin temperature. And would they have the patience to walk the baby for hours every night?

Dr. Jackson stopped in the entryway, turning toward her. The lamps beside the large oak doors flickered, giving just enough light to illuminate a small space while it cast dark shadows around the edges of the chamber. “You’ve done all you can, Hazel,” he said. “Death is the natural end of things.” He took her other hand so he held them both, keeping her facing him.

“I know you’re right.” She searched her thoughts, trying to put them into words, trying to understand what it was that upset her so badly. “I just wanted it to be different.” She felt silly at the simple words. But Dr. Jackson remained silent, listening, so she continued. “When I heard her cry out and found her there, buried beneath the rocks, I felt as though I was meant to save her. I thought I’d been led to her by... by something greater than myself.” She looked away. “I thought God had intended for me to find her.” She hadn’t meant to share that thought with anyone. And now that she’d said it aloud, she feared she sounded like a zealot. She glanced at him, wondering what he thought. But he simply listened. “But I didn’t save her. So I either failed or wasn’t led to her after all.”

“Perhaps you were meant to save her baby,” Dr. Jackson said. “You gave a dying mother a few additional days with her daughter as well as the assurance that her child would be cared for when she was gone. You even gave her an opportunity to send a final letter to her husband.” His hands tightened, as if he were stressing the importance of his words. “I believe if you were able to ask Jakinda, she would tell you there is nothing more meaningful to her than what you did.”

“I’d not thought of that.”

“You did a good thing, Hazel. And you should rest easy knowing the comfort you gave a dying woman.”

Hazel’s eyes burned, and she didn’t trust her voice, so she didn’t answer. She turned and continued to walk through the hospital passageways, holding on to Dr. Jackson’s hand. His words gave her a bit of peace. She walked closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder as they continued down the passageway.

“Thank you.” She led them back toward her bedchamber. “I feel much better now.” She drew out the key and turned it in the lock.

“And you will feel even better after you sleep.”

Hazel released Dr. Jackson’s hand, but instead of entering her bedchamber, she embraced him.

His arms tightened around her, and they remained together for a long moment before she pulled away and bid him good night. The feel of his embrace lingered, giving her comfort as she laid on the cot and went to sleep.

Chapter 12

The next day, Jim passedHazel occasionally as they went about their hospital duties, but the two never found a moment alone. When he did see her, she seemed more pale than usual and had dark smudges beneath her eyes. He wondered if she’d managed to sleep at all.

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