“So, how is the colonel doing?” Major Lawson had slipped into the room.
She leaped to her feet. “Oh, sir, I was just ... just ...”
“As you were, Leftenant. The patient seems to be comfortable now. Let’s keep him that way.”
“Yes, Doctor.” She sat again, hands clasped tightly together in her lap. “There’s no major improvement to report, but he is holding steady.”
He pulled the chart from its holder. “Yes, I see. Hmm, his vitals have improved slightly from this afternoon.”
“Yes, they have that.”
“Do you usually tell fairy tales to your patients?”
She felt her face flush. “Once in a while. It gives the lads something to concentrate on, other than the pain.”
“I see.” His eyes narrowed. “Well, whatever it is, it seems to be doing the trick. We’ll want to stabilize him before his trip to Edinburgh.”
“Edinburgh?” Maggie’s joy was so great, she had to restrain herself from leaping to her feet to give the major a hug.
“Someone in this facility, and I’m assuming it was you because I know he’s your father, contacted Doctor John McGrath, probably the world’s foremost orthopedic surgeon, on behalf of Colonel Savage. You should have reminded me about him instead of calling him yourself. But I’ve gone through channels and cleared the colonel’s transfer to the Royal Infirmary in Edinburgh. I’ve been told that many of our wounded GIs are sent there for medical treatments beyond the ordinary, and General Wells at Wing agrees wholeheartedly with the decision.” He stifled a yawn. “A quick flight to Edinburgh and back is exhausting. Keep up the good work. I’ve assured Doctor McGrath that the moment the colonel is stable enough for travel, he’ll be on his way.”
“Och, thank you so much.”
He turned to go, then paused. “By the way, Doctor McGrath has filed a formal request with your commanding officer that you accompany Colonel Savage on his journey. It’s come to my attention that he responds well to your particular manner of nursing. Though we need you here, he is the group commander and we want to do all we can to see that he survives.”
Maggie nodded, too relieved to speak.
He fidgeted. “I want you to know I’m not some hard-hearted monster, McGrath. I admire Colonel Savage greatly. He’s formed the 396th into a well-disciplined, well-trained unit, and he goes to exceptional lengths to take care of his men. That’s an enormous piece of shrapnel and I’m simply not trained to perform such surgery. There is one excellent Air Force orthopod, but he’s stuck someplace in North Africa and I’ve been unable to find a qualified surgeon in the area.”
“I understand, Doctor.”
“Then, good-night.”
Maggie almost collapsed. Her father had agreed to help. She grasped Savage’s hand. “Did you hear that Rob ... Colonel? You’re getting your chance.”
“Heard, Maggie.”
He responded! She leaned over, smoothing a lock of brown hair back from his forehead.
When he opened his eyes, though his pupils were dilated, his gaze focused on her. “Thank you,” he whispered.
***
A day later, his condition had not improved, but it also had not deteriorated. Major Larson stooped and eyed the bottle of fluid beneath the bed, collecting blood from the drain in the colonel’s back. “I’d like to see his blood pressure higher, but I’m afraid we’re running out of time. Sepsis could set in at any time, and once that happens, nothing can save him.”
“Then he’s going to be transferred immediately?” Maggie asked.
The doctor straightened, kneading the small of his back. “I’ve made arrangements to have him occupy the new medical car the Flying Scotsman has added to its train.”
“But, isn’t that too slow? I should think he would be flown to Edinburgh.”
“I decided against it. Though it is much faster, his comfort would be greatly compromised by the cold, rough ride in a transport plane.”
“Train.”
“Did he say, ‘train’?” Major Larson asked. “Is he communicating with you?”
Maggie hurried to the colonel’s side. Though his eyes were closed, she sensed he was awake. “A little,” she replied. “It’s on his chart.”
“I thought you meant incoherent ramblings.” He joined Maggie. “Colonel Savage, can you hear me?”
No response.
“Well, at any rate,” Larson said, “we’ll transport him by ambulance to King’s Cross Station at 0900 hours tomorrow. Pack whatever you need: drugs, dressings, IVs, and any other medical supplies you may require for the trip. All the railroad provides is a car with stretcher accommodations.”
“Of course, Doctor.”
“And pack adequately for yourself. Your transfer orders have come through. For the indefinite future, you’re to stay with Colonel Savage as primary caregiver until—” he glanced down at the colonel “—until he has recovered sufficiently to no longer need your care.”
“Thank you, sir.” The flight surgeon’s hesitation made it clear he did not expect the colonel to survive.
“I’ll be back in the morning to check him over before you leave”
The moment Major Larson quit the room, Maggie took Rob’s hand. “Can you hear me, Colonel?”
He nodded.
“Why didn’t you answer Major Larson?”
“Coward,” he whispered. He groaned loudly. “Talk, please talk.”
Maggie took his hand. “He’s certainly no coward. He doesn’t feel qualified to do the operation you need.”
“Who?”
“Do you mean who is qualified?”
“Who?” he repeated.
“Doctor John McGrath.”
“Scots?”
“My father.”
When the pain took over, Maggie held him until it was time for his morphine injection. As soon as the medication took effect, she continued the Selkie tale. “At the start of gloaming, the Selkie walked out of the cave and up to her knees in the sea just as the sun cast its dying light on the crests of the waves. She looked out at the darkening sea, tilting her head as she listened to the sad, plaintive notes of her Selkie lover, who sang of his heartbreak. The crofter, hearing only the barking of a seal, raced into the water and pulled her back into the cave.”
Maggie watched the rhythmic rise and fall of Rob’s chest. Asleep at last.
***
Savage slept fitfully. He cried out once, “Lord, help me! Not going to make it!” His body stiffened and he shook with pain from spasming muscles.
Maggie bathed his face with a cold, wet face flannel. The time would come when she couldn’t keep him from knowing his condition, but he was much too weak to face that now, so she crooned softly, trying to bring him awake enough to escape the horrible nightmare he was in, but not conscious enough to realize only his upper body was moving.
“Maggie,” he groaned. “Maggie, help me.”
She grasped his shoulders and pulled him close. “I’m here, Rob. I’m right here. ’Tis all right. Only a bad dream.”
“Can’t move, Maggie,” he choked. He broke out in a sweat and his teeth chattered. He clutched for her, pulling her closer. “Help me with the rudders,” he pleaded. “Please, Maggie, help me.”
She sat on the bed and grasped both of his flailing arms. “Rob, you’re on the ground. Listen to me. You’re in hospital.”
His chest heaved as he gasped for air. His groans turned to dry sobs and he suddenly stopped fighting her. “Can’t work the rudders,” he groaned. “My legs won’t move.”
He still seemed to be caught in the throes of his nightmare, but would reality be any kinder? She freed one arm, dipped the flannel into cold water, wrung it out and bathed his forehead again. Despite all she’d seen at her RAF hospital postings, she’d never become conditioned to such terrible suffering.
His eyelids fluttered, but he didn’t appear to awaken. She hummed some of the old hymns she’d learned in kirk. When she had run through every hymn she cou
ld remember, she sang some old Scots folksongs in the Gaelic, the ancient language of Scotland.
At last, his breathing deepened and he slept.
The loud growl of B-17 engines rumbled and whined. The group was lining up on the runway for another mission. The overhead light rocked and bottles juddered together on the medicament shelf as they began their take-offs. “Godspeed,” she whispered.
She rose and tiptoed to the basin, staring at her own image in the mirror. “Och, you look like a souching wind caught you up.” She wrung out a cloth and scrubbed her face, then quickly re-pinned her hair into a neat bun. Only one more night, and they would be on their way to Edinburgh. Heavenly Faither, if it be Your will, help Rob survive the journey tomorrow. And please, please heal his body and spirit.
***
Two hours later, as she dozed beside him, she jerked upright.
He was looking at her.
“Och, you’re awake. Would you like me to wet your lips?”
He nodded.
She did not like the look in his eyes—dull brown, almost lifeless. She forced a smile as she wet a flannel and carefully moistened his lips.
He reached unsteadily for her hand. “Maggie,” he whispered. “Need the truth.”
Her heart pounded. “And what do you need the truth about?”
“You know.”
She caught her lower lip between her teeth to keep the tears at bay. She was not ready for this.
“No games. Want truth from you, bonnie Maggie.”
An image of him in his uniform flashed through her mind. This man was an adult and the commander of over a thousand men and women; he deserved more than her resolve to save him from reality. She took a deep breath and raised her chin. “You cannot move your legs.”
He closed his eyes and nodded.
“Is that the truth you want from me?”
He shook his head.
“Then what?”
“Is it forever?”
Tears gathered in her eyes.
He turned his face away.
“Don’t!” she cried, catching his face between her palms and gently turning his head. “Rob, I need you to hear something. Please listen to me. I don’t think the damage is permanent. When that piece of shrapnel is removed and the pressure is no longer there, you should recover.”
He stared up at her.
“I’ll always be truthful with you, and I’m telling you the truth now.”
His eyelids fluttered, then closed. “A chance.”
“Aye, a very good chance you’ll recover completely.” She took his hand in hers. “My father’s the best surgeon in Scotland. You couldn’t find anyone better in the world.”
“Those r’s,” he said softly. “Love them.”
Her cheeks burned.
His hand gripped hers. “Selkie again, please.”
“Do you remember what you last heard?”
“Crofter ... pulled her into cave.”
He remembered that? But she’d thought he’d fallen asleep.
She laced her fingers through his, smoothing his forehead with her other palm. “The next morning, the crofter warned the Selkie no’ to leave the cave and sneaked back to his cottage. He herded his sheep onto fresh graze and gathered jugs of water, a piece of cheese and a loaf of oatbread, wrapping them in the course linen bedsheet from his sleeping pallet. Taking care not to be seen, he returned to the cave.”
***
Early the next morning, Maggie took a brief respite and went to her quarters to bathe and pack, leaving Rob in the care of Lieutenant Baxter, a soft-spoken nurse with a gentle manner. When she returned, she found a redheaded major pacing the corridor outside of Colonel Savage’s room. Though he looked familiar, she couldn’t put a name to the face.
He caught her elbow as she tried to open the door. “Lieutenant,” he said, “how is he? Please tell me. I have to know.”
“’Tis Leftenant, and I’m in a terrible hurry, Major. You should see Major Larson for that kind of information.”
He blocked the doorway with his body. “I don’t want to hear the usual medical doubletalk. I checked and you’ve been with him almost constantly since they brought him in. I have to know how he really is.”
The agony in his eyes tore at her heart. “Are you a friend of his, Major ...?”
“Anderson, Den Anderson. I’ve known Rob since we were plebes at the Point together. I love him like a brother. Is he going to ... make it?”
So this was Rob’s friend and second-in-command. “We’re doing everything we can to see that he lives. He’s being transferred to the Royal Infirmary in Edinburgh today for surgery on his back. If everything turns out as expected, he should regain the use of his legs, though it will take months of rehabilitation.”
Anderson recoiled. “The use of his legs? What do you mean? It has to be a mistake. Everybody on base has been talking about how only Rob could have brought that Fort back on one engine, and it wasn’t even torn up that bad in the crash. He’d have aced that landing if his landing gear hadn’t caught the top of the fence at the end of the runway.”
“He has a large piece of shrapnel pressing against his spinal cord. He has no feeling or movement from his hips down.”
The major reeled for a moment and grabbed the wall. “You mean he ... that’s why he didn’t bail out with his crew? Oh, please, not Rob.”
His florid face had turned so pale she feared he might faint. “Why don’t you sit down over there?” She indicated a chair down the hallway.
“No. I’ll be all right. I want to see him. I’ve got to see him before he goes. Please, Leftenant.”
His tears broke her resolve. She removed a handkerchief from her white hospital dress pocket and handed it to him. “Then wipe your eyes. And you’ll have to be very, very quiet. I’ll not allow you to upset him. Do you understand?”
He mopped at his face, nodding. “Thank you.”
She opened the door and motioned to the major to follow.
He took off his crush cap, tucked it between his upper arm and body, and tiptoed into the room.
Maggie studied the vitals chart Lieutenant Baxter offered. “Has he awakened at all?”
“No. He’s been moaning a lot, but he’s at least two hours from another morphine injection.”
“Thank you for everything, Lieutenant. You may go now.”
The major walked quietly over to the bed and looked down at his friend, his hands clenched, and his chest rising and falling rapidly. He laid his hand on Rob’s. “I’ll be thinking about you. You keep fighting, you hear? Don’t give up, Rob, please don’t give up.” He straightened, studying Rob’s face for a moment. “You should have let me fly right-seat like I asked. Ciao, Bucko,” he said, voice breaking.
Maggie watched him shamble from the room, shoulders slumped.
***
Major Anderson careened outside and looked anxiously around for somewhere to be alone. He stumbled to a vacant place where he had seen ambulances parked when there was an overflow. He leaned against the side of the building, fingers clenching the security fence next to him. He couldn’t draw a deep breath and his stomach cramped as if someone had punched him in the belly.
Paralyzed. Rob’s legs were paralyzed.
How often he had teased his pal about his long legs and how hard it was to keep up with him when he was in a hurry?—which was most of the time. Now, he’d never have the opportunity again.
Anderson leaned over and vomited, clutching his belly. When the spasms passed, he wiped his mouth with his handkerchief and leaned his head back against the wall, looking up at the sky. “Where were You when he needed You?” he shouted. “I was right all along. I told Rob there is no God!”
CHAPTER 4
Maggie timed Rob’s morphine injection for half an hour before they moved him from bed to stretcher but even so, he cried out when they lifted the drawsheet beneath him for the transfer.
In the ambulance, she rode next to him, trying to ignore the snide rema
rks about her Scots “burr” from the attendants who were sitting in the front. Didn’t they know Scotland had pioneered modern medicine, including the new wonder drug penicillin? That the very care they gave patients had its beginnings at the Edinburgh School of Medicine, starting as early as the mid 1700s? She held her tongue. All that mattered was Rob surviving the journey.
The throngs of people in King’s Cross Station readily parted for the patient. Pitying looks and stifled gasps followed as other travelers looked at the pale, inert man on the stretcher, the Royal Air Force nurse in her grey-blue uniform walking at his side, holding a bottle of saline. A few uniformed men saluted, while others turned away as though afraid they might be catching a glimpse of their own destiny. Many of the civilians turned pasty after one glance at the jar of cloudy, red fluid another attendant carried.
The moment Rob was settled in the medical car with the white cross on its side and all of their bags had been loaded, Maggie quickly unpacked and arranged the things she would need.
When the train lurched forward, Rob groaned.
She took his hand. “We’re on our way to Edinburgh, Rob. You must be strong.”
Though he didn’t respond, his groans subsided and he fell into a deep sleep, undoubtedly aided by the gentle rocking of the train.
Thank the Lord there were no other patients in the car. Having to make small talk with other nurses would have been intolerable; she needed to focus on Rob only. She yawned. For the past twenty-four hours she’d only dozed beside his bed for a few minutes at a time. She grabbed one of the extra blankets and curled up on a seat at his side. As soon as she closed her eyes, the door burst open.
“Oh, good!” a woman exclaimed. “Look at all the room. Come in, my little lovelies. In. In.”
Maggie stared aghast as three young girls crowded into the car, laughing shrilly, and threw their traveling bags onto the shelves reserved for medical supplies. “Stop,” she demanded. “This is a medical car. You cannot stay here.”
The woman waved a hand. “Oh, we don’t mind, do we, darlings? There’s ever so much more room in here than any of the compartments in the car behind.”