Rob groaned.
Maggie leaped to her feet. “It’s all right, Colonel, I’ll take care of it.” She held his hand and turned to face the woman. “You’ll have to leave. And take those—”
“Oh, look, Auntie, I’ve a seat all to myself.” One of the girls squealed, jumping up and down on the seat. “This is ever so much fun.”
Rob moaned and thrashed about.
Maggie eyed the stout woman who outweighed her tiny, slender frame by a good six or seven stone. “I insist you leave this instant or I’m going to pull that cord right there and stop the train. You may have to walk to the next station.”
Rob groaned yet again.
“Oh, ugh, what’s that awful red goo,” another girl squealed. “It looks like blood. I think I’m going to be sick!”
“Edith, control yourself,” her aunt shrilled. She bent over and eyed the bottle. “It’ll not spill now, will it?”
“Only if one of you knocks it over,” Maggie answered with a glare. “This patient is in critical condition. If he dies, I’m going to charge you with his murder.”
The woman’s doughy face flushed and she fanned her cheeks. “You don’t have to be so nasty about it. My nieces and me are going to Fife to stay with friends. The constant bombing, you know and every compartment is so full. We need more room to stretch our legs and get away from that dreadful cigarette smoke.”
“Find room elsewhere.”
Rob was shaking so hard Maggie feared he would pull out his IV needle.
She had no choice. She braced her body against his.
The door opened again as her fingers closed over the emergency cord. The conductor, waving his ticket punch, rushed into the car. “I thought I saw you four leave the other car.” He eyed the interlopers, his face contorted with anger. “Oot, oot!” he cried, grabbing their bags and tossing them out into the vestibule.
Maggie dropped the cord and held Rob’s shoulders down. “Please remove them immediately. The colonel’s in terrible pain. All this noise could kill him.”
“Don’t upset yourself, lass, they’ll be gone before you can blink.” He corralled the three protesting girls and herded them out before returning for their auntie who stared, open-mouthed, at the colonel.
“The poor devil’s really dying?” she gasped. “Why didn’t you say so?”
The conductor followed her out into the vestibule where he berated her in an exaggerated whisper. “Did you no’ see the white cross, Missus? That means stay oot!” He closed the door firmly behind him, only to open it a second later. “It will no’ happen again. You have my apologies.”
How could people be so uncaring and selfish? Maggie clutched Rob’s shoulders as tears slipped down her cheeks.
“Don’t cry, Maggie.” Though he trembled, he smiled.
“I’m ... I’m sorry” she choked. “I didn’t ever think—”
“Who would?” He raised a hand and tried to touch her cheek, but it fell short and he dropped it with a grunt. “Don’t cry, please.”
She swiped at the tears and grasped his hand, squeezing it. “I always cry when I’m angry—or happy, or sad, or very tired. Father says I put the winter rains to shame.”
He closed his eyes and mumbled something unintelligible.
“Try to rest,” she soothed, stroking his forehead. “We’ve several more stops coming up and I don’t want you bothered by all the juddering from stopping and starting.”
“Selkie.”
“Again?”
He gave a slight nod. How much had he heard the last time? She’d have to start at the beginning. She leaned closer. “There once was a verra—”
”Beautiful seal.”
She smiled down at him. “Aye, a verra beautiful seal ...”
***
The eight-hour journey seemed much longer. When the train made its last stop in Newcastle, England, she had to give Rob more morphine than usual.
Agitated, he trembled almost constantly.
She bathed his face and hands with cool water, then checked the drainage bottle, relieved to find that the contents were not any murkier than usual—nor was there any odor of sepsis. At least she wouldn’t have to use the one ampoule of penicillin she’d been allowed to bring. She rubbed her cheeks briskly. Not much longer and they would be in Edinburgh.
***
The ambulance driver in Edinburgh avoided sudden turns or stops. Another attendant rode in the back with Maggie and Rob. The trip from Haymarket Train Station to the Royal Infirmary was only a few kilometres. Rob was taken inside. This time, as he was transferred to a bed, he didn’t cry out in pain.
Her father hurried into the room. His hair and short beard were more white than brown now but he still wore his usual white lab coat over tweeds. His large, dark brown eyes were warm with welcome as he threw out his arms. “Maggie, lass.”
“Faither.” She collapsed against him.
He embraced her and scanned her face. “You look spent, lass.”
“I’m fine. I’m so relieved to be here at last.”
“Let’s see how your patient’s faring after that long train ride.” He listened to the colonel’s heart and lungs before studying the vitals chart Maggie handed him. He leaned over Rob. “Can you hear me, Colonel Savage?”
Rob opened his eyes.
“Good. Then let me introduce myself. I’m Doctor John McGrath. Now, we’re not going to waste any more time. We’ll be taking a few X-rays, and then the anaesthesiologist is going to come in and give you a shot to make you sleepy before we take you to the operating theatre. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Any questions?”
Rob trembled. “Will it ... help me?” he whispered.
Her father patted his shoulder. “There are never any guarantees, Colonel. It would have been better if I had seen you immediately after your crash, but I want to assure you this operation has proven very successful in the past.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” He turned to Maggie. “Say good-bye to the colonel for now, lass, and then I’ll see you outside.”
When he left the room, Maggie leaned over Rob. “I’ll be praying. Don’t be afraid.” She squeezed his fingers when he groped for her hand. “Our Heavenly Father will be at your side throughout the entire operation and I’ll be with you when you wake up.”
“Bonnie Maggie. Will you really pray for me?”
“Of course, and I won’t be the only one. Father always prays for guidance when he operates. Your guardian angels will be at your side, along with our Lord.” She withdrew her hand and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead.
Her father paced the corridor. He looked worried as he embraced her. “Och, lass, you’re ready to collapse. I’ve had a room in the student nurses’ wing prepared for you. A guid sleep, some hot tea, and a meal will do wonders.”
Maggie rested her cheek against his shoulder and closed her smarting eyes. “Will he live, Faither? Can you really save him and help him walk again?”
“As I told him, there are no guarantees.” He smoothed wisps of hair back from her forehead. “I was surprised to find from the records Doctor Larson brought that the colonel is only twenty-eight. That’s young for a colonel and a base commander, at that. But he does look fit. Pray God guides my mind and hands, the same prayer I’ll be saying.”
“You’ll wake me the minute he’s taken into recovery?”
“Of course. I’ve seen the miracles your nursing skills can bring about.”
“I can’t thank you enough for agreeing to treat him. They were just going to let him suffer and die while they tried to find a qualified surgeon.”
“He has you to thank if he recovers. You’re worn out, lass. On you come, I’ll show you to your room.”
***
As he walked away from Maggie’s room, Doctor McGrath was aware he hadn’t voiced his real concern. Was his daughter emotionally involved with this American colonel? He hoped not. Maggie was only twenty-
two. His precious daughter should meet some fine, young Scots lad and settle down on Innisbraw to raise a croftful of bonnie children. Och, this war.
McGrath put together the finest from the Royal Infirmary: an anaesthesiologist, neurologist, another orthopaedic surgeon, and the most experienced operating room nurses.
The operation got underway almost an hour later. The anaesthesiologist administered nitrous oxide and oxygen, keeping a keen eye on the patient’s vital signs. Each team member took an active part. When the piece of shrapnel was removed, Doctor McGrath held it up in his gloved hand so everyone could see.
Unlike the nurses, McGrath didn’t gasp aloud, despite being amazed by its size and the sharpness of every edge. Och, Heavenly Faither, only you could have kept this from slashing completely through that lad’s spine.
“We’ve got a run-away bleeder,” the other orthopaedist said, voice urgent.
The head operating room nurse slapped a clamp into McGrath’s hand as he tossed the shrapnel onto a tray and reached for the cauterizer.
Before they could stop the bleeding, another vein flooded the wound-site with blood.
“Keep the whole blood coming.” McGrath opened another clamp and slid it into place. “He’s losing it faster than we can replace it.”
He and the other two doctors worked quickly, but another bleeder added to the gravity of the situation. Six hands coordinated, clamping and tying off bleeders or using the cauterizer when possible.
No one spoke.
Nurses slapped sponges or pre-sutured needles into the doctors’ hands while the anaesthesiologist kept a close eye on the patient’s plummeting blood pressure.
The crisis lasted an hour. When the last bleeder had been tended to, McGrath flushed the wound and stood back, studying it carefully.
“How’s his pressure?”
The anaesthesiologist answered, “Still very low, but starting to rise.”
“We’ll need a drain inserted, then we should start closing.”
***
Doctor McGrath left the operating theatre with a lighter step than he thought possible after such a grueling surgery. Though the colonel’s spinal cord was bruised and swollen, no major nerves had been severed, only traumatized. The neurologist concurred that under the right circumstances and given time—and with a great deal of physical therapy—the lad should walk again. Of course, it all depended on the patient’s will and determination to endure the weeks and possibly months of tedious and painful exercises and seemingly cruel regimen such a recovery required. Only time would tell.
He opened the door to Maggie’s tiny room. She lay curled on her side with her hands still folded in prayer, long black hair fanned out over the pillow like a spate of dark, rushing water. How he loved this bonnie lass, the image of her dead mother, heart good and as pure as any he had ever known. She always cared about every wee hurt anyone endured around her.
Without her, he never would have made it through those lonely years after he’d lost his beloved Elizabeth in childbirth. Maggie had been his strength, a pillar of goodness keeping him focused on the positives life had to offer. From the age of eight, she had been both companion to him and mother to her younger brother, Calum.
Maggie twitched and opened her eyes. “Faither.” She sat up. “Are you finished? How’s Rob? Was the operation successful?”
He smiled and sat on the bed next to her, drawing her into his arms. “Aye, it is over, and he’s doing as well as can be expected. I’m as certain as I can be at this point that he will make a complete recovery. Doctor MacMillan, our neurologist, also expects the paralysis to be only temporary.” He looked into her shining face. “You didn’t get much sleep.”
“I feel wonderful.” She pulled away. “Wait outside. I’ll do up my hair, put on my hospital whites, and be right out.”
“Slow down, lass. You can get dressed, and then we’re going to have some strong hot tea and something to eat. Your colonel will not be awake for some time. How long has it been since you last ate?”
“Forever.” She laughed. “And my stomach’s growling. Out you go then. I’ll catch you right up.”
***
Maggie pushed away her empty plate and sipped her tea. “You can’t know how I’ve missed guid Scots food. It’s been forever since I’ve had neeps. You ask for them at Edenoaks and they look at you like you’re daft, even when you explain it’s only turnips.”
“You’re forgetting how much time I spend traveling. I know exactly what you mean.”
“Of course you do. Shall we go? I can’t wait to see Rob ... the colonel.”
He reached across the table and took her hands in his. “Lass, there’s something I must ask you.”
Her cheeks burned and she steeled herself. “What?”
“Are you feeling more for this colonel than just the usual concern you would feel for any other patient? I mean, are you—”
“Of course no’.” How could she allow him to question her feelings when she wasn’t even sure of them herself? “I do know that when I’m with Rob I feel truly alive, but you know how I am when I have a patient who needs me. All the nurses I work with are always saying I give too much of myself to my patients, telling them Scots fairytales and singing them songs. But how can I allow them to suffer without offering a bit of comfort?” She spoke too fast, her words tumbling out like water from a broken spigot.
He gently squeezed her hands.
She inhaled deeply. “I’m certain all Rob and I will ever be is friends. After all, he is the base commander. But I’d be most fortunate to count him a friend. He’s a fine man, verra well thought of by his men and everyone else at Edenoaks.” Unable to bear the suspense another minute, she pushed her chair back and jumped to her feet. “On we go. I want to see his vitals.”
“Don’t expect a miraculous change, lass. He’s been through a trying ordeal. The pain alone would have killed a weaker man. We came close to losing him when he haemorrhaged. We stopped it just in time.”
She gripped the back of her chair, legs wobbling like the bones had turned to jelly pudding. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Twa extra units of blood pulled him through. I only want you to understand it’s going to take time before he recovers his strength, and he’ll need blood until the drain is removed.”
***
Maggie tiptoed into the recovery room, pulled aside the curtain and went to Rob’s side, dismissing the nurse who had just finished taking his vitals. She plucked the chart from its holder and studied it carefully. His blood pressure was slightly higher than it had been at Edenoaks and his pulse and respirations were what could be expected so soon after such a grueling surgery. She read a note at the bottom of the page, obviously scrawled by a tired anaesthesiologist. “Patient responded verbally after endotracheal tube removed and oxygen administered in theatre. Transferred to recovery room at 2300 hours.”
She checked the drip-rates on the bottles of saline and blood hanging by his bed before studying the slow rise and fall of his chest. He was still sleeping off the effects of the nitrous oxide. The bruise high on his cheekbone, though beginning to fade, stood out against his pale, drawn face. “Wake up, Rob,” she said, taking his hand. “The operation’s over.” When he didn’t respond, she patted his cheek. “On you come. Wake up.”
His eyelids fluttered and he moaned.
“Are you in pain? I’m sure Father told you there would be some pain after the surgery. Wake up, Rob. It’s Maggie.”
His eyes opened and he squinted up at her. “My Selkie?”
Och, his mind was still jumbled. “Your Maggie.”
“How’d it go?” he mumbled.
“Exactly as planned.”
His eyes closed, and opened again. “Truth?”
“Truth.” She sat on the side of the bed. “I know you’ll no’ remember this later and I’ll have to be telling it to you again and again, but I’m going to do it anyway. There will be a lot of work to do before you can walk like you di
d before. But if you do everything you’re told, that day will come.”
“Mmm.” He closed his eyes and slept.
She checked the drainage bottle beneath the bed. Not as cloudy as it had been. It was unfortunate he had to lie on that uncomfortable tube for a while longer and the stitches they used to keep the drain in place within the wound surely pulled every time he was moved, but it had to drain for a few days.
When his vital signs stabilized, she held his hand as two orderlies pushed his bed out into the corridor. “Father wants you to concentrate on healing. No visiting, so you’ll no’ be going to a ward,” she said, smiling. “They’re transferring you to your own private room, and that’s quite a rare occurrence.”
His hand tightened on hers. “Don’t go.”
“I’m no’ about to leave you now, after all the time and effort it’s taken to get you here.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
CHAPTER 5
Rob slept, fearing the moments when he woke and could only moan as the pain escalated. When he did not hear Maggie’s voice asking him if he wanted something for pain or offering to wet his lips, he experienced a moment of panic before once again spiraling down, down, into blessed oblivion.
Early the third morning, he awakened suddenly, stricken with terror. He lay close to a steep cliff, sliding faster and faster toward the drop at the edge. He flailed his arms frantically, clutching for something to grab onto.
Firm hands grasped his and he gave a sob of relief. “Steady, Colonel, steady you go,” a man’s voice said. “I’m only turning you onto your back.”
“Maggie,” Rob mumbled.
“I’m here now, Rob.”
The familiar voice slowed his thudding heart as Maggie’s face swam into view. He blinked and tried to focus as she leaned closer.
“I’ll be with you all the day.” Her fingers brushed his cheek. “So you can let go of Ian’s hands now before you break them.”
***
As Rob loosened his grip and drifted off to sleep again, the orderly straightened, massaging his fingers. “It’s grand to see you here early. I’ve been turning him every four hours from before the turn o’ the night and it never startled him like that.”
“It’s the morphine making him hallucinate,” she said. “Don’t worry about it. Go have a strong cup of tea and take yourself off home. I’ve already signed in.”