Page 32 of Healing Hazel

“I’m sorry. At this point, surgery would do more harm than good.”

Her gaze darted back and forth between Jim and the patient, and she blinked rapidly, looking as though she were searching for an alternative. “Will she... ?” She breathed heavily. “Is there a chance that... ?”

Jim didn’t answer. He only shook his head.

Miss Thornton pressed her lips together and wrapped her arms around herself.

“She’s not in pain any longer,” he said. “We will keep administering the morphine regularly until...”

She turned away, swiping at her cheeks as she moved around to the other side of the bed. Taking the damp rag from Jakinda’s forehead, she dipped it into a basin, wrung it out, and replaced it gently.

The baby stirred in her sleep, and Miss Thornton rubbed her back until she calmed.

Although she kept her face turned away, he saw her tears. “Come,” Jim said. “She is resting now. You can check in on her soon. But, for now, there is plenty to be done.” Work would be a welcome distraction for Miss Thornton.

She raised her gaze to his, her chin quivering. “What would you have me do, then, Dr. Jackson?” Her voice was resigned.

“The patients who’ve just arrived are, for the most part, English.”

Miss Thornton blinked, looking surprised.

“They will have difficulty speaking with the majority of the medical staff, as you can imagine. But between you, Dr. Laurent, and myself, we should be able to facilitate communication.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Lucía will be grateful for your assistance.” He motioned for her to join him, and they started from the ward to the entry hall, which was acting in its new role as a patient reception area.

At the doorway, Miss Thornton glanced back, but she straightened her shoulders and continued on.

They found Lucía exactly where Jim had expected her to be, in the entryway, directing the other nurses.

A young soldier with thick straw-colored hair and a sunburned face was holding a wad of rags against his arm. “I need to find my commander, Nurse. Captain Wilmington. Do you know where he is?”

Lucía directed him to wait until his arm could be stitched, but of course he couldn’t understand. He continued to ask about his commanding officer.

Miss Thornton crossed the room. “My name is Hazel Thornton, Private. Come, sit here. Lucía will repair the damage to your arm, and I will make inquiries about Captain Wilmington.”

Relief relaxed the young man’s face. “You speak English.” He sat on the floor where she directed him.

“This is Lucía,” Miss Thornton said, moving a lamp closer for the head nurse to see the injury better. “And what is your name?”

“Jenkins,” the young man said. “You’ll find Captain Wilmington?”

“I’ll do my best, Private Jenkins.”

Jim remained for a moment, taking a quick assessment of the patients before he started toward the surgery. When he left, he could hear Miss Thornton speaking to Lucía in her broken Spanish and then translating as well as she was able for the soldiers.

As he walked, he analyzed the strange combination of emotions that had taken over his mind and heart. He was extremely pleased with Miss Thornton’s progress as a nurse—proud of her. She worked extremely hard and cared deeply for her patients. But with the caring came the inevitable pain. Seeing it and being unable to fix it frustrated him. He ached, seeing her hurt. And it would only get worse. Jakinda wouldn’t last long.

But knowing that in her desperation, Miss Thornton had come tohim... his insides warmed pleasantly at the thought.

***

That evening, Jim was passing through the East ward on his way to the kitchen when he heard raised voices. He changed direction, hurrying past the other beds until he reached the far end, where the nurses were gathered. Mikel’s father and Camila were arguing in Basque. The man’s face was red. He spoke loudly as the nurse tried to placate him.

Miss Thornton stood between Mikel’s bed and the one next to it, holding a pitcher of water and a glass as if she’d been interrupted in the act of pouring. She had backed as close to the wall as possible.

Lucía was next to her. Or, rather, infrontof her, as if she were protecting the young lady from the angry man.

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