Healed By Her Army Doc

‘Well, I’d booked it and paid for it, why shouldn’t I enjoy it?’ she’d said with a smile that had belied the cloudy sadness in her eyes.

Had he hurt her more?

Caused the change?

Surely not, but something had...

He turned his attention back to Harriet.

‘You probably know all about regular emergency structures but most of them are intended for long-term use, say after an earthquake. The “tent”, as Kate called it, is a smaller affair—an inflatable, easily set-up protected area that combines a trauma unit to act as the ED, a surgical theatre for life-and-limb-saving surgery, and a multifunction unit with drugs and blood products, facilities for lab tests, and sterilisation support. Some of these are “add-on” units in other emergency set-ups, but what we’ve tried to do is provide the best facility possible for first response units like your SDR.’

‘That makes sense,’ Harriet said. ‘Most patients are airlifted, or taken by road transport once they’re stabilised, so you wouldn’t need an intensive care unit or ward beds like some I’ve seen. It sounds like a great idea.’

‘It’s only a great idea if it works,’ Angus told her. ‘I’ve been planning and organising the construction of this one for some time, but I’ve only recently been posted to a base on the outskirts of Sydney. I knew Blake back when I was studying medicine so when I heard about his—well, the hospital’s—SDR team I hooked up with him, hoping maybe we could get to trial it.’

He paused, then added, ‘Not that I’m looking for a disaster—heaven forbid—but things happen, don’t they?’

Harriet gave him a weak smile and pointed to her leg.

‘Don’t they just,’ she said, and a finality in the words finished the conversation.

Could he go? Just stand up and walk out? Say goodbye, of course—but even if he went, could he go back to Kate’s—or Alice’s—apartment? He doubted he’d be welcomed. Kate had been out the door here before he’d got settled on the sofa.

He stood up.

‘I’d better go,’ he said. ‘I do hope you get back on the team before long. You might even get to try out my “tent”.’

But Harriet didn’t respond and he’d seen enough PTSD cases to know that even if she hadn’t been diagnosed with it, she was deeply depressed. She’d made all the right noises when he’d first come in and even shown interest in his knowing Kate, but that short stint of casual conversation had taken all her energy.

And although he wanted nothing more than to go back to Alice’s apartment and see Kate, he sat down again.

‘How long since you hurt your leg?’ he asked, watching her face so he could read the argument going on in her head about whether or not she would answer.

Politeness won.

‘Months now—I’ve lost count. I got a post-op infection that knocked me back, and the rehab seems to go on for ever.’

‘You’ll get there,’ he said. ‘You’ve got to keep believing that you will. Don’t give up. Giving up’s easy, it’s sticking it out that’s hard, but in the end, it’s worth it. The inner strength you gain will make you a better nurse and better SDR team member.’

‘And a better person? Did you forget that bit?’ Harriet asked, but at least she was smiling again.

‘Don’t know about that, but seeing medicine from the other side definitely improves your understanding of patients and what they are going through.’

‘Been there yourself?’

He smiled and shook his head.

‘Close enough,’ he told her, remembering the long bleak months after his last posting, part of a humanitarian response team to an overcrowded refugee camp in South-East Asia. Some of the things he’d seen—the stories he’d heard—had made him wonder if he’d ever feel normal again.

‘And Kate?’

‘Nice try,’ he said, as Harriet’s teasing smile told him he could leave with an easier conscience. He’d jolted her out of her dark mood, although for how long he didn’t know.

He said goodbye, adding that he hoped they’d meet again, and was pleased when she roused herself enough to walk to the door with him.

As he left he realised he had an excuse to talk to Kate again—he could knock on the apartment door, mention his concern about Harriet’s mental state.

It was a weak excuse and she’d see it that way, but having met up with her again he knew he—

What?

Wanted to see more of her?

Yes, there was that—definitely—but...

What he really wanted to know was what had changed her from the woman who’d smiled through the pain of the end of her relationship, who’d settled terrified guests with a warm word and a joke during the cyclone, who’d been friendly and outgoing and...

Well, fun!

Back when he’d met her, she’d have had every reason to be withdrawn. She’d discovered her best friend had been sleeping with her fiancé and had broken off the engagement, heading for the island to escape the talk.

But she’d taken one look at his pale face on the island boat and made him stay on deck, explaining it was far better to be outside than in if you felt the slightest bit queasy. So they’d clung to the rail, salt spray washing over them both, and she’d kept his mind off the journey, telling him about the little coral cay that lay ahead, and the research station on it that she’d visited each year with her great-aunt Alice, a marine biologist.

Alice!

The great-aunt!

By the time they’d reached the island he’d realised Alice probably meant more to Kate than her parents, and now here she was, living with Alice—a ‘loner’!

Because?

He realised that, in spite of all they’d been through together, he didn’t really know her.

He looked around the elevator lobby, and finally pressed the ‘down’ button.

* * *

Kate did her best to concentrate on cooking the chicken breasts in lemon and capers that was one of Alice’s favourite dinners, but she’d made it so often it couldn’t distract her enough.

Why wasn’t Angus wearing a wedding ring?

Hadn’t he gone to the island to check it out as a place for his and Michelle’s honeymoon?

They’d joked on that terribly rough boat trip that they were both on pretend honeymoons, talking to take their minds off the wild seas.

And the cyclone hadn’t even been close at that stage. It was only two days later it changed direction—as cyclones so often do—and headed straight for the island.

Maybe army personnel didn’t wear wedding rings, she decided. Some kind of safety thing? Could a light flashing off a gold or silver ring tell a sniper where to shoot?