supplies, really, given the conditions she was treating. The fact that they couldn’t do more for some of the tribal children and their parents ate away at Lexi every night.
It roused memories of when one of her foster “sisters,” a girl five years younger, had come down with a fever, yet instead of using the foster check to buy medicine or to pay for a doctor’s visit or even to make soup, their foster mom had simply given her acetaminophen and told her to stay in bed. Had it not been for Lexi caring for the little girl, no one would have comforted her, given her cold cloths or gotten up at night to check on her.
But medicine itself had limits, too. Doctors and nurses hadn’t been able to do more for Tony, either, and he’d had access to state-of-the-art medicine and the best care possible. The burns and shrapnel wounds had been more than Tony’s body could handle.
“I’m okay. Could use food and a nap, though,” she said, as Jacey followed her back outside. “Where’s Taj?”
Taj, a medical resident, came out to the clinic most weekends and was always willing to help out in any capacity. With only three of them on staff, even the most menial duties were shared. Right now, Lexi needed him to take down the temporary canopy they’d used for shade. She knew better than to try to take it down herself. At this point in her pregnancy, into her thirty-fifth week, balance and coordination were not her forte. Besides, it was more weight than she was willing to risk carrying. Her baby came first.
“Taj will be here in a sec. He’s still in the exam tent, finishing up with the older fellow with the abscess on his foot. You can wash up. We’re basically done,” Jacey said.
“If you’re sure.”
“I am. Go on. We’ve got this. I’ll help him take down the canopy, too.”
Lexi squeezed Jacey’s shoulder and smiled her thanks as she dragged her feet to the bungalow that served as their living quarters. She lumbered up the three steps to the bungalow’s front porch, ducked inside to grab a bottle of water, then headed back out onto their narrow front porch. She collapsed onto one of the wicker chairs. There was more of a breeze out here than inside. Plus, she liked closing her eyes and listening to the sounds of Africa. The trumpeting, roars, high-pitched calls and rumbles all made her feel at home. It was a natural lullaby. It made up for the rustic and outdated living quarters.
The small plaster-and-clay bungalow they lived in had two tiny, dorm-size rooms with cots for sleeping, a kitchenette and the main sitting room—still small—where clinic records were stored in a file cabinet against the wall. Jacey and Lexi shared one room and either the clinic’s founding doctor, Hope Alwanga, or Taj used the other, depending on who was covering the weekend.
As a medical resident, Taj took care of anything Lexi wasn’t licensed to do at the clinic. But he had obligations back in Nairobi where he was finishing up his hospital residency. He tried to make it out to the rural clinic as much as possible because giving back to the communities where he grew up was important to him.
He was a lot like Tony in that respect. Lexi loved that about him. Both men were reminders that there were good people in the world. She took the fact that Taj’s goals mirrored Tony’s as a sign that she was on the right path. That she belonged here even if she was technically an outsider. Tony had been her only family, which made this land a part of her through love and marriage and a part of their child through blood. She felt more rooted to this place than she’d ever felt anywhere in her life. She felt accepted.
She took another swig of water and pushed her short hair off of her forehead.
Even Hope Alwanga had taken her under her wing, making sure that Lexi had good prenatal care. Hope used to make it out here herself more often, but she was also running a pediatric practice in Nairobi and venturing out with a separate mobile medical unit to as many rural areas as she could.
Most people out here knew “Dr. Hope.” Many of them hadn’t seen a doctor before Hope had established her mobile clinic program for the Masai Mara and surrounding areas decades ago. Being of Luo decent and passionate about helping children, Hope had wanted to give back, as well. It was as if Lexi had finally met kindred spirits.
Hope had told Lexi that this static clinic was only a few years old, yet the staff turnaround had been high. Living out here wasn’t for the average person, but Lexi had never considered herself average. Given her past, she’d always felt a bit like a nomad, so the move from America hadn’t fazed her at all.
When she’d seen the online ad for a registered nurse willing to live and work in rural Kenya, she responded immediately. The timing had been perfect. She’d still been numb from burying Tony and, to top it off, she’d discovered she was pregnant. The news had been a bittersweet gift she’d never gotten to share with him.
As far as Lexi was concerned, the job posting had been a sign. It was as if Tony had been opening a door...nudging her to pursue their dream instead of losing herself in mourning.
She’d answered the ad and Hope had responded. The two women had instantly bonded. Hope’s son—also a marine—had been injured during a mission only a week before the attack on Tony’s field hospital. And it was Hope that made the connection between the two men. Her son, Chad, was the friend Tony had grown up with, the one who hadn’t been able to make it to the wedding.
She touched her belly. The thought of losing one’s child... She shuddered. This was why she hated sitting around and resting, even if she needed to. It gave her idle time to think and her thoughts, more often than not, only reminded her of what she’d lost.
Hope was lucky her son had survived. Injured, yes, though she hadn’t divulged all the details of Chad’s injuries. But at least he’d survived. At least he had loving parents—a father who could understand what he’d been through and a mother who, as a doctor, could help him heal or at least make sure he was getting the care he needed.
Since coming to the clinic, Lexi had met Hope’s daughter, a human rights lawyer who was well known for helping Kenya’s indigenous tribes, and Hope’s younger sons, currently in college, but she’d never met Chad. He’d only recently returned to Kenya and, according to Hope, he was far from healed.
Hope often lamented, with all the love and anguish of a mother, that Chad was the most stubborn, impossible patient she’d ever tried to work with. She’d been struggling to pull him out of a depression and to motivate him to resume therapy, physical and psychological, in Nairobi. But it was an uphill battle.
Lexi couldn’t blame him after the trauma he’d suffered, but she also knew motivation had to come from within. A person had to want to survive all that life threw at them. They had to want to find a way to chase their goals, even if it meant taking a different path. She’d heard of individuals who, after being told they’d never walk again, had learned to not only walk but to dance. Unlike Tony, Chad still had his life ahead of him. She wouldn’t feel sorry for him if he chose to waste it.
“I heard my name,” Taj said, stepping out from the exam tent. He paused to say goodbye to his last patient, a thin, lanky man whose cheekbones were framed by beaded loop earrings that reached his shoulders. The man gave a toothy smile and nodded his appreciation, then adjusted a red-and-orange shuka that was draped over his shoulder and headed down the dirt path for home.
“You need help cleaning up in there?” Lexi asked, nodding her head at the tent, which stood about twenty meters across the clearing from the bungalow. Her legs didn’t want to move so she kind of hoped he didn’t.
“No, I’ll get it. And this,” he said, grabbing the table Lexi had used to hold her vaccine trays. He folded the legs in and leaned the table against the peeling plaster of the clinic wall. “I’ll put that away in a second. Jacey can help me with the rest. Sitting there isn’t enough. You need to raise your legs. You should go lie down before your feet swell to the size of an elephant’s. I still think you should come back to Nairobi with me and let Dr. Hope find someone else to staff this place.”
“Not happening. I’m fine here. It’s good for me. Being sedentary while pregnant isn’t. But I’ll take you