parents must be over the worst of it. He could leave now, couldn’t he?”
“It would break their hearts, but I guess he could, if he made up his mind.”
“You don’t sound sure.” Something wasn’t quite right. “Why?”
“You should really talk to him.”
“Dredge up his past without all the facts? How would that help?”
Leilani tucked her water bottle back into her bag, pulled down her sunglasses and rose. “We’d better get back.”
“Wait.” Glory held the woman’s arm to stop her from leaving. “What aren’t you saying?”
Leilani kept her mouth clamped closed, but a battle raged in her dark-brown eyes.
“You can’t tell me this much and not the rest. It’s not fair,” GloryAnn pleaded.
“If I tell you, you’ll leave.” Like the others was the implication.
“No way. I’m not going anywhere. I promised Elizabeth Wisdom six months and that’s how long I’m here for. So you might as well tell me. I’ll find out, anyway.”
“I guess you will.” Leilani scuffled her toes against the dirt. Finally she lifted her head. “I think Jared doesn’t leave because he can’t. He often goes to Honolulu and visits the Halawa Correctional Facility to make sure Viktor’s still there.”
“Why?”
“I think he wants to make sure his wife and son’s killer serves every bit of the time he was sentenced, be certain Viktor doesn’t get early parole or something.” Leilani shook her head. “Look, you really should talk to Jared about this. It’s his private business, after all.” She began walking quickly back to the mission.
GloryAnn remained still, the sun beating down on her head as she struggled to reconcile what she’d learned. An inkling of understanding seeped through.
Jared Steele kept a close check on Agapé to ensure nothing bad happened again. But why didn’t he walk away, leave it to someone else, find a place where he could forget the horror that had happened here and move on?
If it took her entire six months, Glory was going to answer that question.
Chapter Three
Once she’d showered off the salty seawater and changed back into her work clothes, Glory hurried back to the wards.
The warm afternoons were the most difficult times for the children in Ward A, especially the older kids who couldn’t yet get out of bed and move around. Technically she was on an extended lunch because she would be on duty all night, but since she had nothing else to do, Glory decided to help out.
The nurses hurried as fast as they could, but it wasn’t possible to meet everyone’s demands at once. The pathetic cries of those who had to wait for relief affected the others who watched in fear or studiously looked away to avoid seeing more pain.
Enough was too much. GloryAnn clapped her hands.
“Is there anyone who’d like to hear a story about a girl named Frizzy?”
“You don’t have a book, Doc.” Germaine, a preteen from the rougher side of New York, had been burned in an altercation between gangs and now used his bravado to bully his way through treatment. “How you gonna tell this story?”
“It’s all up here, buddy,” she told him, tapping her temple. Germaine’s role as leader was well established in the ward. She’d have to make sure his interest was captured or he’d ruin it for everybody. “Do you know anything about the Arctic, Germaine?”
“Yeah. It’s cold.” He laughed uproariously at his own joke.
“Sometimes. Sometimes it’s lovely and warm. Sometimes you can’t see what kind of day it is because the wind whips the snow around so you’re blind.”
Glory kept describing the land she loved until a pin drop could be heard. Even the children that couldn’t understand English well watched with wide-open eyes as she told a story about an Inuit girl, the basis for many Arctic folk tales. When she was six, Glory had changed the Inuit name to Frizzy so she could pronounce it more easily.
So caught up did she become in her story that she startled when a nurse touched her shoulder and pointed to the clock on the wall.
“Goodness! That’s all for today. I’ve got to get some work done.”
“But you didn’t finish.” Germaine’s indignation echoed the others’.
“I’ll tell you more tomorrow. If you behave.” She shook her head at the calls for more, checked over a young girl whose pallor was worrisome, then hurried away to her office.
Unfortunately, Dr. Steele was already there.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she panted as she reached for the first file. “Shall we begin with—” she checked the name “—Donald?”
That glacial glare told her he wasn’t going to let it go.
“Dr. Cranbrook, we run on a tight schedule here. We cannot—”
Glory held up a hand. Jared blinked, obviously astounded by her interruption.
“Am I on some kind of time clock, Dr. Steele?”
He frowned, finally shook his head. “No, but it’s important—”
“That I do my job the very best I can, which means in my own way, on my own timetable.”
“Your point?” That jaw of steel didn’t bend a millimeter.
“I’m not saying it’s all right to be late,” Glory hurried to clarify. “It isn’t and I will try to do better. But it would be helpful if you didn’t keep hounding me about every little thing. It’s going to take me a while to orientate to your schedule but I promise I will fit in. Okay?”
Breathless at her own impudence, she waited for his acquiescence. His cold hard glare memorized every detail of her face, but he finally inclined his head.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Donald will be discharged next week. Also these three,” he said, indicating the appropriate files. “These four will be at least another month. The rest I am not sure about.” He went through each case, precisely detailing the problems, what he expected and what he wanted to see before they were released.
“Are any of them candidates for your procedure, Doctor?”
“No.” He rose, pulled his stethoscope from his pocket. “These will be the patients primarily in your care. If you’ll excuse me, I have some things to do this afternoon away from the mission.”
“I’m on my own?” she squeaked.
“Naturally not.” He pulled open the door. “Dr. Xavier’s at his cottage, on call. Dr. Potter’s gastrointestinal upset seems to have abated. He claims he’s feeling much better. He should be here in a half hour or so. I’ll make sure he stops by to introduce himself. If an emergency arises, let the desk know. Leilani can always reach me.”
“Oh. Okay, then.”
Glory was talking to thin air. Dr. Steele was already halfway down the corridor. Whatever he had to do this afternoon must be important.
She spent the next few hours poring over every case, memorizing details she’d need if one of her patients took a turn for the worse. By the time Dr. Potter arrived Glory was twiddling her thumbs.
“Bored?” a lilting English voice inquired with just a hint of jollity.
“Well,” she began, not wanting to say it.
“That’s the problem with living in paradise.” A salt-and-pepper head appeared