Lindsay McKenna - Shadows And Light

Rankled, Susan said nothing as she left his bedside to return to the office’s small pharmacy, which contained certain widely used drugs. She unlocked the cabinet and removed the appropriate medication, then locked up and walked back into the ward. By the time she arrived at Craig’s bed, the three minutes were up and she took the thermometer out of his mouth.

“What is it?” Craig demanded irritably.

Susan recorded the temperature and shook the thermometer down with several flicks of her wrist. “One hundred point two.”

“Infection,” he growled. Then he shot her a glance. “I’m taking enough antibiotics to kill a horse. By morning, I’ll be normal.”

Susan grimly held out her hand. “Here’s your pain med.”

Craig looked at her opened hand. “At least you make your rounds.”

He picked up two of the four tablets and popped them into his mouth, then took a large gulp of water and set the glass back on the bedside table.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Susan challenged.

Glaring, Craig held her insolent stare. “It means that the other duty nurse didn’t make her last round. Not everyone is as capable as you, Lieutenant Evans.”

Stunned, Susan tried to gather her composure. “Don’t you want the sleeping pills?”

He continued to glare at her. “Why the hell would I? I just got out of Recovery. I’m drugged enough as it is.”

Susan slipped the pills into the pocket of her uniform. “I’m sorry the other nurse forgot to give you the pain med.”

It hurt just to speak with Susan, Craig thought. It hurt to feel her this close to him. His emotions were frayed, and the pain had made him snappish. “Look,” he said in a harsh whisper, “just do me one favor and then leave me the hell alone. Find out how my men, Hayes and Shelton, are doing, will you? It’s the only thing I’ll ever ask of you, Susan.” He was breathing hard, each breath fiery and filled with anguish.

Susan found she couldn’t protect herself from Craig’s anger. It was obvious that he was angry with her. Tucking her lower lip between her teeth to stop from snarling back at him, she held her tongue. Craig was suffering badly. The past, she realized, wasn’t buried between them as she’d thought. No, it was alive and haunting both of them. “I’ll find out,” she promised quietly, and left his side.

Craig lay back, shutting his eyes and trying to control his chaotic breathing. He’d seen how his anger had struck Susan, as surely as if he’d hit her. Hurting physically and emotionally, he castigated himself. Sometime later, he felt Susan’s presence again and barely opened his eyes to see her quietly making her rounds through the ward. Most of the men were drugged into sleep. A few, like him, had refused the pills and were either awake or sleeping fitfully. Craig’s mouth lifted in a tortured grimace.

He tried to ignore Susan’s serene presence, but it was impossible. He hungered to see her, to watch her, to absorb her soft, smiling face into his deeply suffering heart. She ministered to those men who were awake, reaching out like a mother to touch their hair or place her hand on their shoulders. Susan knew the value of touch; she always had. Craig remembered the way she would touch his arm or shoulder when they’d shared their many deep, involved conversations. But tonight, she was loath to touch him and he knew it. Restless and angry, he bunched the spread up in his fists, then released it. How were his men? When would Susan know? Would she really tell him—or would she continue to avoid him?

Corpsman Peters entered the ward some time later. Craig watched him go over to Susan and speak to her in a low voice. He saw Susan’s face go still, and his heart plummeted. Intuitively, Craig knew the exchange had to do with his men. He knotted the covers between his fists and waited.

Her mouth dry, Susan thanked Randy and forced herself to complete her final patient check before going to Craig. He was sitting up in bed, leaning against the pillow, every muscle in his body taut. Making herself meet his fiery gray gaze, which seemed to cut into her, Susan scrambled for the right words. But as she got closer to Craig’s bed, she realized he was holding himself rigid in preparation for the bad news.

Susan drew the green metal chair up to the side of Craig’s bed and sat, laying the clipboard across her thighs. “Craig—”

“Just give it to me, Susan,” he snapped. “Don’t try to be tactful, okay?”

Wincing at his angry attack, Susan nodded. “Hayes died just a little while ago,” she said softly. “They couldn’t stabilize him.” She saw Craig’s eyes go dark. Then tears rose in them. An answering lump formed in her throat. “Shelton’s in ICU, in critical and unstable condition.” With a shrug, she whispered, “I’ll call down there at the end of my watch and try to find out more.”

Craig remained silent, absorbing the loss of Hayes. “He was supposed to get married,” he rasped after a moment.

“What?”

“Andy Hayes, my radioman—he was engaged….” Craig shut his eyes and tipped his head back, a terrible, wrenching sigh ripping out of him. “It was his final mission before the wedding.”

Painful, too-fresh memories staggered Susan. Steve’s death had been such a long, awful slide downward for both of them. She’d tried to hold on to her love for him, but love had turned to suffering, then numbness. Still, Susan hurt for Hayes’s fianc;aaee—she and Hayes would never get to know married love at all. “I—I’m sorry,” she whispered, reaching out, but stopping herself before she touched Craig. How she longed simply to hold him. She felt Craig’s pain—and her own stored pain from this past terrible year. “I know how much you care for others,” she began, her voice quavering with feeling.

Susan’s soft, halting words washed over Craig, taking away some of his pain at the loss of Andy. He opened his eyes and looked at her deeply shadowed features. Stunned that she seemed no less affected by his loss than he was, he felt his defensive wall of anger slip. Savagely, he reminded himself that Susan was married. She belonged to another man. Or did she? Where was her wedding ring? But maybe she didn’t wear it when she was on duty, his quick mind countered. With monumental effort, he whispered, “Thanks,” in a steely tone.

Susan slowly stood and returned the chair to its original corner. There was nothing more to say. Craig made it obvious that he didn’t want her around. And she didn’t want to be his whipping post, either. She’d managed to survive a year of that with Steve, and it was time to draw the line. Turning, Susan walked away, leaving the ward—and leaving Craig to deal with the loss of his friend.

Out in the office, she logged the time of her ward round. Peters came through the door.

“Thanks for finding out that information for me,” she told him.

“Bad news for the captain.” Randy shook his head. He sat down on the chair in front of the desk. “You hate to see a man cry.”

Susan’s head snapped up. “Cry?”

Randy gestured toward the ward. “Yeah, he’s in there crying.”

* * *

“Karen, you have to do me a favor,” Susan begged the next morning as she got off duty.

Karen yawned. “What?”

They walked out of the hospital area and headed to the parking lot. The surrounding brown hills glowed in the morning sunlight. The vast light blue sky stretched overhead, the darker blue Pacific Ocean to the west. Gulls wheeled and called nearby, looking for handouts.

“We’ve got ward duty again tonight,” Susan began. “Can you make a call to the San Diego Hospital and check on a man for me?”

Karen rubbed her face tiredly. “Now, you know that’s against regs.”