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“I didn’t think you’d be up,” she said through the wire mesh.
“You told me six-thirty, and it’s six-thirty.” He pushed the door open, stepping out.
The glint in her eye suggested she might be laughing at him. “We’ll see if you feel this chipper tomorrow morning.”
He still felt the same chill from her that had been present the day before. He fell into step beside her as they took a different path from last night. This one ended at a long, low building adjacent to the hospital.
“This is what we affectionately call the mess hall.” She led the way to a short buffet line set up at one end.
It resembled a military mess hall he’d seen in pictures.
“The food’s prepared for the in-patients Monday through Saturday. Families bring the meals in on Sunday. Most of us find it easier to eat here than to go to the town market daily.” After filling her plate, she moved toward an empty table.
“Hey, Court,” John Weber, the doctor who had flowm in with him, called. “Come join us. Tell us where you disappeared to yesterday.”
“Sure.” He and Maggie took chairs at the table. “Maggie, you haven’t had a chance to meet John Weber. He works with the foundation. This is Lisa Mills and Jen Skindowski.” He directed a hand toward first the blonde and then the brunette woman sitting beside the doctor.
She nodded to the women and shook hands with John. “I’m sorry. I thought you were the pilot.”
John laughed. “No, I’m a general practitioner. The pilot would be Court. It’s his jet.”
Court shrugged when her piercing gaze came back to him. She didn’t look impressed. Did she think he should sell the plane and offer the money to the hospital?
“In fact, you could call it his baby, he loves it so much.” John took a bite of scrambled egg.
“I imagine a plane makes it easy to get around,” she mumbled. What she left unsaid made him uncomfortable.
“John, did you get the equipment taken care of?”
“Yeah, the director put it in storage. I made sure it was handled carefully. So tell me about the big emergency yesterday.” John kept his focus on Court.
“Truck and cart accident. Cart lost. A child with a clean fracture. An old man who needed a couple of stitches. The girl was doing well when I checked on her at midnight.”
Maggie’s head jerked up. “You went to check on her in the middle of the night?”
“Don’t sound so shocked. I like to keep a personal eye on my patients.” He’d failed to check on a patient once and he’d never make that mistake again, even if he was still a long way from feeling comfortable around children. She gave a nod of approval. It felt good to think her opinion of him had taken at least a slight upturn. Something about how she’d reacted to the girl being injured made him believe the children routinely received her special attention.
Lisa asked Maggie a question about the facility, and they began discussing the hospital and the area. There were additional questions about the people and the type of care they most often required. Court listened, impressed by how involved Maggie was with her patients. She clearly loved her work and the Mamprusi people.
She pushed her plate away and said to the group, “If you’re finished, why not join Court for a tour?”
Court lagged behind the others as Maggie pointed out buildings within the compound.
She turned to the nurses. “Don’t go outside the fence after dark and only with a companion during the day. It isn’t like at home. There’s no police or law like you’re used to.”
Inside the hospital building she pointed out the pharmacy, office area, supply area, and the two ORs. She led them to the women’s ward where the beds looked to be World War II surplus. Family members were sitting or sleeping on the floor around their loved ones.
Jen asked, “Why’re there people everywhere?”
“We ask families to help care for their loved ones. There’s not enough staff to do it all,” Maggie explained.
Had he been wrong in his evaluation of the hospital’s application? Maybe, but he wasn’t ready to concede that so early in the visit. He couldn’t let her emotional play on the situation get in the way of a comprehensive evaluation.
The men’s and the children’s wards were much the same. Leaving the latter, Maggie stopped and looked straight at Court. “You’re the pediatrician so you need to know we don’t tell the parents if their child is dying because they’ll desert them.”
If her intent was to drive home the point the hospital could use foundation money to hire additional stuff, she’d done it. With one-two punches.
He’d been born in a small jungle clinic but he’d been reared around glistening state-of-the-art hospitals in Boston. Aware of the type of work the foundation supported, he’d still never been in a hospital this primitive.
“It’s time for rounds,” Maggie said. “Lisa and Jen, I’ll leave you to help out in the children’s ward. One of the staff members will show you what needs to be done. Doctors, we’ll meet Dr. Roberts in the men’s ward.”
Court looked out the window of the hallway linking the two buildings while they walked. The line of people waiting, sitting or standing stretched as far as he could see. He couldn’t keep the amazement out of his voice. “Are all those people waiting to be seen?”
“Yes. We see around three hundred a day. And do eight to twelve surgeries.”
He whistled. She made it sound like there was nothing to it.
She met his look. “Another reason we have difficulty keeping doctors and nurses.”
They entered the men’s ward. “Dr. Roberts, I brought you help. Gentlemen, I’ll see you later in clinic.” Maggie turned and left.
Maggie looked across the packed dirt yard in the direction of the patient clinic. She scanned the crowd of people waiting in the open-air treatment area. With relief, she spotted Court’s dark-haired head. He had stepped out of the building, deep in conversation with one of the local orderlies who spoke English.
She hadn’t spoken to Court since earlier in the morning. Lunch was taken in shifts, so she had no idea how his day was going. She’d bet he wouldn’t have any trouble sleeping tonight. A couple of times from a distance she’d had a chance to watch him work. His personality didn’t endear him to her but she’d grudgingly admit he was a good doctor, maybe one of the best they’d seen in some time.
He stopped speaking to the tall man, looked up and met her gaze, like he’d known she needed him. A tingle zipped along her spine. She waved him in her direction and walked to meet him halfway.
There were two small furrows between his brows. “Is something wrong?”
Her voice lowered. “I need you to look at a wound. I’ve been checking it weekly but it doesn’t seem to be improving.” She led him toward a young woman sitting on a portable examination table.
“Raja, this is Dr. Armstrong,” Maggie said. “He’s going to look at your leg.” Court gave Raja a reassuring smile. “Tell her I would like her to lie back,” he said to Maggie.
She relayed his message.
Court supported Raja’s back as he helped her lie back on the table. Maggie moved to the other side of the table, facing him.
He raised the cloth bandage from the wound. The smell of infection wafted into the air. Maggie saw the slight jerk of Court’s cheek only because she watched him. She was grateful he didn’t let on to the frightened Raja how bad the situation was.
Apparently his bedside manner extended to women if not children. If he didn’t like children then why in the world had he become a pediatrician? That ironic twist made him interesting for some reason. Was there more going on with Dr. Armstrong than he was letting on?
Court touched the skin around the worst area of the injury.
“How did this happen?” His eyes flickered upward toward her for a second, before his attention returned to Raja’s leg.
“The water barrel she’d been carrying on her head slipped. As it fell it hit her leg, making a gash. She lives so far away she didn’t come in to get it stitched.”
He looked up. Their gazes met. Held. The confirmation of her diagnosis showed in his eyes. His stone-faced look was the opposite of the emotional upheaval she felt. A mixture of sorrow, pain and disappointment all rolled within her.
Didn’t he have any feelings about what was going to happen to Raja? Maggie blinked. At least he could show some regret for what was to come.
Court spoke to Raja again and helped her to sit up. “Maggie, could I speak to you a moment?”
They stepped a few paces away before Court stopped. “You do know the leg has to come off, don’t you?”
Maggie nodded, looking at the ground.
“It’s too far gone. If she didn’t live in these deplorable conditions …” A tone of remorse filled his voice. “Why didn’t you say something to Dr. Roberts about this earlier?”
Maggie’s head jerked up and she met his gaze. “Don’t be too quick to issue blame. Around here the people have to work hard every day to eke out some kind of existence.” The hopelessness of the situation, her inability to make a real difference washed over her but she bowed her back and continued. “Coming to us means giving up a day of labor, and sometimes walking ten miles or more. When they get here they have to wait in line for hours because we’re so short-staffed. It’s not that they don’t want help, it’s just that it takes so much effort to get it. And as for me not informing Dr. Roberts, I did. He and I have been doing all we can.”
“I didn’t understand—”
“No, you didn’t. You need to be here longer than twenty-four hours before you start judging us.” All of a sudden she felt tired to the bone. Her shoulders slumped. Just one night she’d like to fall asleep knowing she’d offered the best medical care possible in the world. That would never happen here.
Court stared at her a moment. “I wish I knew another way but if her leg isn’t removed then the gangrene could spread and kill her. Do you want me to tell her?”
With your emotionally distant attitude, I don’t think so. “She’s my friend. I’ll explain.” Maggie turned to go back to Raja but jumped when Court’s hand on her shoulder stopped her. His touch comforted. For a second his eyes showed a glimpse of compassion before they became shuttered again.
“I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”
He sounded as if he meant it. Maybe the ice doctor did have a heart. “I do too,” she said. His hand fell away when she turned back to Raja.
CHAPTER TWO
COURT ran a hand across his face. Swiveling his head from side to side, he worked the kinks out of his neck. He gazed into the night sky. It’d been a long, horrible day. He’d done a rotation in the largest emergency room in Boston but nothing had compared to the volume of people this primitive clinic saw each day. This hospital needed at least two more full-time physicians.
He’d expected to have to care for patients on this trip but nothing like the magnitude he’d been presented with that day. And the number of children. It was almost overwhelming. With great fortitude he’d managed to care for the first one through to the twentieth. Thankfully his training went into autopilot mode and he found some semblance of comfort, a return of a modicum of confidence. Still, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t glad to see the day done.
Finished with the last patient, he’d headed to the mess hall for a bite to eat. Dr. Roberts had come by and asked him to assist with removing Raja’s leg. Court had explained he wasn’t qualified. Dr. Roberts responded, “Here we do it all. I’ll show you where to scrub in.”
The surgery had been short and unpleasant. He always thought an operation helped. It fixed. In this case, a life had been saved yet devastated. The only saving grace was that Maggie hadn’t been there with those big accusing eyes. She had to be thinking—if he hadn’t turned the hospital down for funds, if he could see the need for outlying clinics, if he could get the supplies they needed …
Had he been a part of making a wrong decision that had hurt someone? Guilt gnawed at him, becoming a living entity in his gut that grew stronger by feeding on his doubts. He wanted to feel good about himself again, wanted to see respect for him shinning in someone’s eyes—Maggie’s.
But why should he care what she thought? He wasn’t going to get involved with her. That would be opening a door to hurt that he didn’t need, refused to accept. He’d learned at an early age that when you cared for someone you got hurt. If you didn’t want to hurt, you kept your heart and feelings locked away. Missy Maggie wouldn’t be allowed to knock on that door. Getting involved with Miss Save the World was out of the question. He had larger things to worry about in his life than trying to please her. Like what direction his career would take when he returned to Boston.
Court trudged along the path toward his bungalow by moonlight, too wired to sleep. Something moved among the trees. Stopping, he squinted in an effort to determine if it was man or beast. He’d heard talk of animals finding their way under and over the chain-link fence at night. Maggie had even made a point of warning him to lock his door.
Stepping closer, he found Maggie, sitting in a hammock. He left the path, walking with caution over the uneven ground with its dry grass clumps. The night shade flung shadows across the earth.
Maggie glanced at him as he approached. “Hey,” she said in a low voice, but not one of real welcome.
“What’re you doing out here so late?” He eased closer, trying to get a better look at her face. “You okay?”
She didn’t say anything for a long moment. “Yeah.”
Her flip-flop dropped from her foot. He wouldn’t have noticed the action except for the sparkle of rhinestones. Yet another contradiction to his first impression of her. Miss All Business, Give Me the Facts had a quirky side. Interesting.
Stabbing her big toe into the half dirt, half dried-up grass, she pushed backward in the hammock.
“Raja’s resting well,” Court said into the quiet night.
“Good.”
Her almost non-existent answer screamed of her distress.
“You know …” she pushed the hammock back and swung forward again “… women in this land are the family workhorses, carrying water for long distances, gathering food and building homes.”
Court spied a wooden chair beside a tree. He sat, arms resting on his knees, content to listen while she talked. Her voice had a pleasant, lyrical quality that soothed.
Maggie sighed. “A woman without a leg is dependent on the village to keep her alive. Her husband will put her out. She’s no use to him.”
She sobbed softly, her empathy for the woman almost a personal pain. Something in the sound of her sorrow suggested the grief went deep. Had someone done something similar to her?
The desire to wrap Maggie in his arms surprised him. The emotion was so foreign that he hardly recognized it for what it was. The tug was so strong he gripped the edge of the chair.
“I came here to help.” Her words were a murmur crossing the hot still air. “To make a difference. But I don’t see it happening. I told Raja what to do. Showed her how to bandage it …”
She raised her eyes to the starry heavens. “I appreciate you taking care of her.”
“You’re welcome.” He’d not felt so inadequate since that horrible night he’d failed his small patient. His jaw tightened. Caring wasn’t a feeling he would make a habit. He’d been running from his emotions since his brother had died and now he’d come smack up against them again. Heaven help him, for some reason this woman managed to pull them out of him.
She pushed into a slow swing. “So what did you think about clinic today?”
He sat up in the chair. “I’m more than impressed by the number of people seen and the vast array of medical issues needing treatment.”
Maggie dug her toe into the ground, bringing the hammock to a halt. She gave him a look he was confident would make a weaker person squirm and give up information.
“So, now you think we could use the grant?”
He put up his hand. “Ho, there. I didn’t say that. There’re many hospitals and programs needing money, a number closer to home. What I will say is I’ve been impressed with how efficiently the hospital runs with so few obvious resources.”
“Well, at least that’s something. Hopefully we’ll continue to impress you with our service, and you’ll see our need.” She scooted to the edge of the hammock.
The movement captured his attention, her hips shifting first one way then the other as she wiggled to the edge, supporting herself by holding on to the side. Not for the first time he longed to see her legs. What was the old saying? “Leave them wanting more?” Maggie had definitely perfected that objective.
She slipped her feet into the flip-flops. “It’s late.” She made an attempt to stand but fell into the hammock as it swung backward.
Court offered his hand. “Let me help you.” Her low-trilled laugh of embarrassment vibrated through him like a bow moving across the string of a bass violin.
Her hand hovered over his palm. For a second he feared she’d refuse his help. When her fingers touched his, the bolt of satisfaction stunned him.
Using him for leverage, Maggie pulled herself to her feet. She stood so close he could make out the faint wildflower smell of her shampoo. It was the most surprising thing he’d encountered in this arid land. It stood out in the surroundings like Maggie did.
What was her story? She seemed full of contradictions.
Maggie slid her hand from his, leaving him with a sense of loss. Gathering up her skirt in a hand so it no longer flowed around her legs, she headed toward their bungalows.
“I’ve been meaning to ask why the female staff wears long skirts in this heat.” He stepped over a protruding root.
She grinned over her shoulder.
The first real one he’d seen since he’d arrived.
“Wearing a skirt is cooler and more functional than you’ll ever believe. You should try one. Local men wear them all the time.”
He chuckled. “No, thanks, I’ll stick with scrubs and cargo pants.”
“The real reason we wear them …” she did an about-face and looked him straight in the eye “… is because the Mamprusi men find female thighs sexy. In America, breasts seem to be the thing, here it’s thighs.”
Court agreed with the Mamprusi.
She’d delivered the teasing bit of information like she gave a report during medical rounds. The upward curve to her lips and the slight shake of her shoulders said she wanted to laugh. “Do you have any other questions, Doctor?”
“No-o-o, I think that about sums it up.”
She giggled. A sense of rightness filled him—something he’d not felt in a long time.
They reached the spot in the path where they’d separate to go to their respective bungalows.
He touched her arm briefly to get her attention. “Hey, would you give me a crash course in Manprusi? It would sure make treating the patients easier if I learned a few basic words. Help put them at ease.”
“I guess so.” She turned, starting down the path.
In a couple of strides he caught up with her. “How about tomorrow afternoon? I understand the clinic’s closed,” he said. “I was wondering if you’d show me around the village, maybe give me a lesson then. I’d like to know more about the people. I don’t think the wild ride yesterday counted as a true visit.”
She took longer than he would have liked to answer. “I guess so. I planned to get some fruit and other items at the market anyway.”
“Aw, thanks for having compassion for the new guy in town.”
That brought a slight curve to her lips. Court watched as she walked to her door a few steps away, rubbing the spot he’d touched.
Maggie had been a little surprised when Court hadn’t balked at walking into the village when she’d suggested it. He acted like he made casual outings to a village regularly. While they moved along the crowded dusty road, she appreciated him matching his long-legged pace to her shorter one.
He hadn’t struck her as someone who routinely took time for a stroll but she couldn’t miss a chance to have him see up close how the locals lived and why they needed the Armstrong Foundation’s help. Convincing him to use his influence to give the hospital the funds they required was her primary objective. Otherwise she would’ve turned him down flat when he’d asked her to show him around. Something about having him close made her think she wouldn’t be enjoying a few relaxing hours. Court set her nerves tingling.
Court impressed her with his thoughtful and intelligent questions about the traditions and culture. Between his quizzing and her lectures on the area, they practiced simple words like “hello”, “pain”, “where”, “how long” in Mamprusi. He was a quick study, which by this time didn’t surprise her. He had a real aptitude for the difficult language. It wasn’t long before she expanded to using phases.
Maggie glanced inside the doorways of the simple square, dirt-brick buildings facing each other creating a wide main road. She pointed to one group. “These are the well-to-do businesses. Most of the locals live humbly, working daily just to stay alive.”
He seemed genuinely interested in the country’s history and the people. The closer they drew to the market, the more the number of people surrounding them increased. The sounds of bargaining filled the air, joining the ripe smell of fruit. “Stay close, I don’t want to lose you,” she said, turning a corner into a large open area filled with stalls. Colorful fruit, vegetables and a variety of meats were spread out in the open air on blankets with thin men squatting on their haunches beside their goods.
“You don’t think a tall, white man dressed in American clothing is going to stand out?”
With his piercing blue eyes, firm jaw and broad shoulders he’d stand out on the streets of New York City. The man was eye candy. “You have a point. Is there anything you’d like to look for while we’re here?”
“No, but I would like to practice what I’ve learnt when I can. I’ll just stick by your side.”
She wasn’t sure why the statement rattled her so much. “I’m not sure Where does it hurt? or Bandage it this way is going to work here.”
“I was thinking, Hello, goodbye, how are you? might, though.”
She stopped often as they made their way up and down the rows of vendors. She always gave Court a chance to speak to the merchant first. After he had done so, he seemed content to wait and listen from nearby. She couldn’t see those crystal-blue eyes for his sunglasses, but by the tilt of his head he watched what was happening intently.
The crowd thinned at one point and Court stepped beside her. “So, tell me how you came to work at the hospital?”
She bent to pick up a bunch of bananas, said a couple of words to the toothless man then handed him a coin and waited while Court said thank you. “I was working in a hospital ER. One of the traveling nurses told me about the Teligu Hospital and I was intrigued. I needed to make a change and decided to look into coming here.”
They moved on to the next vendor.
“Did you always want to work in a developing country?”
A house with children’s toys in the yard and a minivan in the drive flashed into her mind. “Not exactly.” The words were said slowly. “I’ve always wanted to be a nurse, though.”
He picked up a piece of corn still in its husk from the pile she studied.
“Mealie.” Maggie supplied the word.
Court repeated the word. “I wish they were all that easy.” Putting the ear back in the pile again, he asked, “Not exactly? What does that mean?”
“Little nosy, aren’t you?” She focused on the vegetables on the ground before her.
“Little touchy, aren’t you?”
Concentrating on the produce, she tried not to let the hurt show in her eyes. “We all have dreams that don’t work out, don’t we?”
“Yes.”
Maggie glanced at him. The simple word hid more than he let on. Did the aggravating doctor have a secret?