Page 48 of Healing Hazel

Hazel shivered, nestling closer to him.

“I can think of only one thing that would make this Christmas Day complete,” Jim said, keeping his voice casual.

“What is that?”

“A mistletoe.”

Hazel started, but she didn’t pull away. She turned so that she faced him, looking as though she was thinking. She tapped her finger to her cheek and looked as if she were truly considering the problem. “I believe you’re right, Dr. Jackson. A pity we don’t have one.”

“Do we need one?” he asked, seeing a teasing twinkle in her eye.

Hazel put her hand on his chest, her touch sending fire through him. “I imagine we will do quite well without.”

Jim didn’t need any more encouragement. He pulled Hazel against him, wrapping her in his arms and pressing his lips against hers. While their first kiss had been tender, gentle, this time, Hazel’s response was not so unsure. Her lips moved with his, and her confidence was invigorating. He matched her energy with his own and wondered if he had ever felt anything like this before. Hazel hid her depth well behind her soft facade, and he considered himself a lucky man to be the one to discover just how much there was to this woman.

His heart pounded as he pulled away at last.

A quiet sigh escaped her lips. She shifted to rest her head against his chest, and her breath tickled his neck.

He leaned to rest his cheek on her head. The singing still sounded around them. Jim had forgotten completely about it. His heart felt full, and his skin was heated.

“Happy Christmas, Dr. Jackson,” Hazel whispered. “And thank you for the gift.”

Jim held her, tightening his arms around her, unable to come up with a response that would in any way tell her how he was feeling. It was a happy Christmas, the happiest he could remember. He pushed away thoughts of Hazel’s inevitable departure and closed his eyes, treasuring the moment and wishing he knew how to make it last.

Chapter 15

Two days following Christmas, Hazelpushed a rolling tray filled with clean cups and pitchers of fresh water through the West ward. She glanced to the end of the row of beds and blushed when she saw Jim speaking with a patient. She’d begun calling him Jim in her thoughts, feeling it was entirely appropriate now that they had kissed twice, but she would never actually speak his Christian name aloud, especially not in the hospital, where the relationship of doctor and nurse was expected to be one of a professional nature only.

She poured a glass of water, helping Private Jenkins sit up so he could drink, and a memory came into her thoughts. On Christmas, when she and Jim had discussed how the patients’ letters were to be posted, Hazel had mentioned taking them with her when she left. At her words, something had moved over Jim’s face, something she could not explain in words, and it had filled her heart with both dread and a realization that he had feelings for her, as she had for him. True feelings. Her leaving was not something he considered lightly. If only... but, of course, nothing could come of their relationship. Jim’s place was here, with the Red Cross Hospital, and Hazel’s... she sighed. They were foolish to have let their feelings deepen as much as they had.

She helped the private lie back again in his bed.

“Is everything all right, Nurse?” the soldier asked.

“Yes, of course.” She smoothed the sheets and moved on to the next patient.

Wherewasher place? As a child she would have said India, without hesitation. A month ago, she would have claimed London, among the members of the Blue Orchid Society. But now she didn’t know where she belonged, only that she was doing what she was meant to, caring for patients, easing their pain, bringing hope when they despaired. It felt as natural to her now as breathing.

She poured water into another glass.

A blast sounded in the distance, followed by another and then another. Five more in quick succession. The water in the pitcher trembled. Gunshots sounded, and more blasts.

Jim rushed through the ward, calling to the nurses as he went. “Lucía, Hazel, Camila, with me. Bring your kits and report at the wagons!”

Hazel set aside the water glass and hurried after him, hearing from the footsteps behind her that the other nurses were following.

The sounds of battle continued, louder now that she was outside. She and the other two nurses climbed into the back of an ambulance wagon. Jim and Dr. Laurent lifted boxes of medical supplies inside, and before the nurses had even stowed them beneath the benches, the wagon started moving.

Lucía took three wool blankets from the boxes, handing one to each of the others. The women sat on them, having learned the hard way that if they didn’t bring cushioning, they would be cursing the wooden seat before an hour had passed.

Hazel settled into her seat, wrapping her cape around her for warmth. She found a relatively comfortable position and settled in for another long journey into the mountains.

Beneath the canvas covering, she couldn’t see anything aside from the road behind them. The other wagon was following at a distance with two orderlies on its bench. She wondered which nurses were riding in the bed.

They continued along, following the sound of the battle. The road became rockier, and through the opening at the rear she could see that one side of the narrow mountain road fell off in a cliff while the other rose up as a stone wall. The wheels rolled over a bump that made the entire wagon rock from side to side. The three women braced themselves, holding on to the bench and the side to keep from sliding from their seats.

More blasts sounded, this time much closer. The other wagon fell farther behind as the road became more difficult to navigate. Hazel could hear the doctors’ voices but couldn’t make out their words, which judging by their tone, she thought was for the best.

---