An Appetite for Love Page 65

  “I suppose not,” she agreed.

  “Let’s get a cup of coffee.”

  She followed him down to the canteen and allowed him to make her coffee. He invariably made it too sweet. Molly watched him take a seat across the table from her. She’d been astounded when he’d asked if he could call on her several weeks ago. It was still surprising.

  He was a young man and already going places. He was the best doctor in the hospital and most of the nurses were attracted to him...his icy blue eyes and his blonde hair were hard to miss. The trouble with both of those things was that he knew it. He knew he was the best doctor and he knew that most of the women adored him.

  After several outings, Molly had discovered that she didn’t have much to say to him. He never wanted to talk about work. Or, if he did, it was to say that it was a shame that such a “beautiful girl had to see such awful things.” That had bothered her so much that it had been hard to finish that evening. She hadn’t seen him again since.

  The war was terrible, but nursing was what she was meant to do. She was sure of it. And being called a girl infuriated her. She was twenty four years old. A woman, not an incompetent child at play!

  “That’s quite a frown,” Charles said.

  Molly smoothed out her features and said, “I’m sorry. There’s a soldier just out of the Kimberley siege in room 356. He might lose his leg.”

  “Hmm,” Charles said, sipping his coffee. “That’s a shame.”

  He didn’t look like he was honestly affected by it, though. He didn’t seem to be affected by any of it. That bothered her too.

  “I thought I’d call on you tomorrow night,” he said.

  She looked up in surprise. “No,” Molly said quickly and saw him frown. She moderated her tone. “I’m sorry, but I’m picking up an extra shift.”

  His frown grew deeper. “I didn’t see your name on the board.”

  “Not yet,” she said evenly. “But it will be there. There are some patients that are at critical stages. I’d like to see them through.”

  “I see.” Jaw clenched tight, he pushed back his chair. “Perhaps I’ll see if someone else wants to accompany me on the evening I had planned.”

  Molly didn’t bother to respond. She’d given him a fair shot, mainly at her parent’s urging, but it wasn’t going to work out. He worked at the hospital for the adulation and the money. She worked for the moment when a person left feeling better than they had when they came in. She was perfectly content spending her spare evenings in the company of her books if it meant that she didn’t have to listen to Doctor Charles Silas go on about himself for hours on end.

  Chapter Seven:

  Two days later, Thad leaned over, trying to reach the newspaper that had been left on the side table. His fingertips grazed it. The paper fell to the floor in an explosion of pages.

  He bit back a curse. He was back in civilian life now and he needed to start getting a handle on his vocal habits again. He leaned further out of his bed, gritting his teeth at the pain in his leg.

  Just a little more, just a little more...he lost his balance and swore. Then soft but firm hands grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back to safety.

  “Why are you so determined to throw yourself on the floor?” Molly asked him with a smile.

  “I wanted to read the paper,” Thad replied with as much dignity as he could muster. It wasn’t much. He had only seen her for a moment yesterday, and he’d thought about her all day.

  She bent over and scooped it up, rearranging it carefully before handing it back to him. “There you go. Although, it really should wait.”

  “Do you need to take blood?” he asked suspiciously.

  She laughed her musical laugh. “No. I’m actually going to get you cleaned up.”

  “That sounds...” It took him a second to realize that she was pushing a cart with two basins of water on it. There was also a bar of soap and a sponge. She meant to bathe him. “I don’t think that’s necessary,” he said.

  “I’m afraid it is,” she countered calmly, dropping the soap into one of the basins and then soaking the sponge. “Down with the sheet. I’ll change your bed after, of course.”

  He held onto the sheet like grim death. “Really, it’s fine.”

  She tugged the sheet free. She was surprisingly strong.

  “Really, it’s not,” she said bluntly. “The cleanest part of you is your injured leg and that simply won’t do.”

  He did feel disgustingly grimy. Which was part of his objection. He did not want her seeing him like that. At least, not all of him.

  “Could you get another nurse?” he asked.

  She stopped, sponge in hand. Her face wore a wounded expression. “Of course, if you’re not comfortable with me--”

  “It’s not...exactly that.”

  Molly dipped the sponge in the water again. “Very well. Then let's go ahead and get started.”

  “No!”

  “Why?” she asked, frustrated.

  “Because I might not...I might not remain a gentleman. I...find you very attractive.” He felt the base of his neck go red as he forced the words out. “Of course, I don’t expect you to reciprocate in any way. I just thought that you should know.”

  “Head back,” she said briskly, wetting his hair and beginning to lather it up.

  Thad closed his eyes so that he didn’t have to watch her reject him. To his surprise, she kept silent as she washed his hair. She didn’t rush either, running her fingers through his hair, scrubbing thoroughly. It felt better than he had thought it would.

  “Lean forward,” she said, still businesslike.

  He did as she asked and she poured a cup of warm water over his head, rinsing his hair. He sighed with relief as he sat upright again. Finally, no more dust.

  “Come now, chin up,” Molly said, wetting a cloth and beginning to scrub at his face. “Thank you.”

  As his skin came clean of sweat, blood, and dust, he swore that it was easier to breathe. Then her hands moved down, sponging his neck and shoulders, then working down his back. She worked without speaking, rinsing the sponge often.

  He couldn’t help but glance at her as she worked her way down. She didn’t look disgusted by the dirt. She moved gently, but firmly.

  “What did you do?” she asked. “In the military, that is.”

  “Rifleman,” he replied after a moment. It had taken him that long to remember the word. No one had ever touched him the way she was and he was desperate not to make a fool of himself.

  “Is it a hard job?”

  The sponge swept over his chest and he focused on keeping his breathing regular. “No. Well. Yes. It can be. One has to have the aptitude for it.”

  “And you did?”

  Another sweep of the sponge over his chest. She seemed to be paying particular attention to it. Another glance. Her hazel eyes were wide. Was that appreciation he saw there? It became even harder to breathe.

  “Yes,” Thad answered. “I did. Though, I don’t know what I’ll do now.”

  She rinsed the sponge and stroked it down the center of his stomach. He held back a shiver.

  “Are you cold?” Molly asked quickly. “I can get some more hot water--”

  “I’m not cold,” he said honestly.

  “Oh.” She dragged the sponge along his abdomen. “I’m sure you’ll find something else,” she said and he knew that he wasn’t imagining the waver in her voice. At least he wasn’t the only one who was nervous. “You’re an intelligent man.”

  “You are too. Well, an intelligent woman. Obviously.”

  The dimple in her cheek flashed and then he felt the sponge descend even lower. He knew Molly saw him go tense. He clenched the sheets in his fists and tried to think of something other than her hands.

  “How did you get into this line of work?” he asked, his voice so loud that she jumped slightly.

  “Felt right,” she said, moving on down once he was clean. “And...” She felt that she could admit it to h
im. “I felt that it was the closest I’d ever come to being a doctor.”

  “You want to be a doctor?”

  She raised her chin. “Yes.”

  He nodded. “You’d make a fine one, Molly.”

  A flush of color crept up from the high color of her dress. “Do you think so?”

  “Cool under pressure and the strength of someone at least twice your size? Yes, I think so,” he said, gently teasing. He won a smile that warmed him straight down to his bones. Not that he wasn’t warm enough. The room had grown steadily hotter over the course of the day.

  Chapter Eight:

  Molly called Hannah in to help her move Thaddeus and change the bed clothes. He sat in a chair while Molly whipped the wet sheets off of the bed and stretched clean, dry ones on. Then she and Hannah helped him back into the bed.

  “Leaving?” he asked casually as she finished helping him get comfortable

  “Yes,” Molly said, tucking a stray strand of hair back into her bun. “I...I have some other patients.” She wanted to say something about what he’d said. That he found her attractive. But she had no idea what to say. She’d never expected him to say anything like that.

  And she’d just given him a sponge bath! Was she doing something wrong if she told him that she had feelings for him too? Would he think that she was unprofessional?

  He only nodded. “I understand.”

  “I’ll drop by before I leave,” she said impulsively.

  His dark eyes lit up and a smile curved his mouth. Clean, he looked younger, more like his true age of twenty five. “I’ll look forward to it.”

  As soon as they’d left the room, they had to split up to tend to their other patients. Several hours had passed before Hannah grabbed Molly’s arm and dragged her into the canteen.

  “You’re smitten with him!”

  Molly’s face burned. “Don’t be so foolish.”

  Hannah laughed. “Foolish? The only ones who are foolish are the two of you! And for each other.”

  Molly put her hands to her face to hid her smile. “It’s completely professional.

  “He’s very handsome,” Hannah pointed out.

  “Yes, he is,” Molly agreed without thinking about it.

  “There we have it!” Her friend crowed. “I knew it! And the way he looks at you...” She trailed off and put one hand to her heart, half teasing and half serious.

  Molly gave up. “Do you really think so? That he looks at me a certain way?”

  “Of course,” Hannah said. “He follows your every move with those beautiful eyes. They’re like...”

  “Melted chocolate,” Molly finished. “And he’s so tall!”

  “Almost too tall for the beds,” Hannah agreed. She looked around and then lowered her voice. “How did the bath go?”

  “Professionally,” Molly replied indignantly.

  Hannah sighed. “Molly Alexander, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”

  “All right,” she said, relenting. “He’s very...firm. And smooth. And warm.” Suddenly her brow furrowed. “Rather too warm, now that I think of it. Did he seem...”

  “His fever is skyrocketing,” Charles Silas said from her left. “I’m afraid your new love will only be half a man after surgery.”

  Molly reached out for the chart and pulled it open. There it was. His fever had jumped mid afternoon and an examination of the leg had revealed that the infection wasn’t being contained. It was either cut off the leg or risk a blood infection. She put her hand to her mouth. Hannah pulled out a chair and pushed her gently into it.

  “I want to be the one to tell him,” Molly said shakily.

  He smirked down at her. “You? You can barely even talk about an amputation. Why should I let you frighten our patients that way? You’ll have plenty of time to comfort him when it’s over and he’s got nothing else to do.”

  Molly’s face flooded with angry color and she pushed herself to her feet. “You have no right to say such things!” she hissed at him. “You’re not broken hearted over me; I’ve already seen you flirting with three other nurses on this floor! We can pretend that you left me as a sop to your wounded ego if you want, but don’t bring Thaddeus into this!”

  Charles took a step back, looking shocked at the venom in her tone. Then he pasted a condescending smile on his face and held up his hands in mock surrender. “I didn’t realize that your feelings on the matter were so strong, my dear. Of course. Tell Mr. Bennett whatever you like.”

  As he walked away, Molly put her face in her hands, starting to shake. It wasn’t the confrontation with Charles. It was fear over what Thaddeus would do after he heard the news. She had to figure out just the right thing to say. The best way to cushion what would be a horrible blow to any man, but especially one who was already wondering what to do with his life.

  Chapter Nine:

  Thad glanced up hopefully when the door to his room opened, but there wasn’t a pretty blonde nurse on the other side of it. There was a blonde doctor, but that wasn’t exactly Thad’s type. Besides, the man had the coldest eyes he’d ever seen.

  “Hello,” the man said in tones of freezing politeness. “My name is Doctor Charles Silas.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Thad said, hoping the man was going to open a window. He was burning up.

  Instead, the doctor pulled up a chair beside the bed and said, “I’m afraid I don’t have good news for you.”

  “About what?”

  “About your condition,” Silas said impatiently.

  Thad moved to sit up and felt a bolt of pain in his leg. That was unusual. The pain medicine they gave him normally kept twinges at bay.

  “I’m afraid that your leg will have to come off. Very soon.”

  Thad felt sick. He struggled into a sitting position, fighting his nausea, and stared at the man. He would have sworn that the doctor looked almost pleased.

  “Off?” he asked, his voice suddenly rusty in his throat. “My leg has to come off?”

  “You’ve got a fever,” Silas said. “And it’s only growing higher. There are clear signs of infection in the lower part of the limb as well. The longer we wait, the higher the risk that you won’t survive at all.”

  Thad pushed his hand back through his hair, trying very hard to process what the doctor was telling him.

  “I’m sure you don’t want that,” Doctor Silas said, his voice barely audible through the buzz of fear in Thad’s mind. “You wouldn’t want to leave sweet little Molly mourning your loss.”

  “What?” Thad asked. “Did you say Molly?”

  “Of course.” The doctor’s smile went tight and flat. “Your nurse? Molly Alexander? She simply loves cases like yours. There was no chance that she was going to miss out on getting to know you.”

  “Cases like mine?” Now Thad really didn’t like the look in the man’s eyes. This time he was sure he saw a spark of something like grim pleasure. “What do you mean?”

  “Wounded soldiers are her...specialty. She likes to give them a lot of...” he paused as if he’d just sampled a distasteful wine. “Personal attention. Little chats. Sponge baths...you know all about it, I’m sure.”

  “She’s a good nurse,” Thad said through stiff lips.

  “Oh, I’m sure you think she is,” Dr. Silas said with a little chuckle. “Most of the soldiers do. They find that they don’t feel quite so much like half a man when they’re with someone as...giving...as Molly.”

  It was now all Thad could do to keep his lunch down. In his fury, his anger grew to encompass everything. If Molly was such a good nurse, then why hadn’t she told him about the amputation? Or did she really just have an unnatural fascination with broken men?

  “Get out,” he said tightly.

  Dr. Silas didn’t protest. He’d done what he’d set out to do, after all. “Try to get some rest,” he said in mock concern. “We’ll have you on the surgery schedule just as soon as we can.”

  Thad picked up the water pitcher and flung it at
the door. Water splattered everywhere, but it didn’t make him feel better. His throat tightened and, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t push down the panic. They were going to cut his leg off. His leg.

  He glanced down. What would it be like to look down at nothing? What if he died anyway? He wasn’t a fool; he knew it could happen. They could knock him out tomorrow and that would be it. Not only would he not have a leg, he wouldn’t have a life.

  He pressed one hand over his mouth to keep whoever might be in the hall from overhearing the sound that escaped his throat. Half a man. And he’d dared to think that he might have a future with Molly. Now, if he did, would he be forever suspicious of her?

  Chapter Ten:

  Molly walked into Thaddeus’s room and nearly skidded in the puddle of water. He was facing the window and she thought that he might be asleep, but then he turned to look at her. His face was flushed with fever and his eyes were bright with it.

  She stepped forward and placed her hand on his forehead. He was burning up. He turned his head, avoiding her touch.

  “How do you feel?” she asked, straightening his blankets.

  “Fine,” he said roughly. “Isn’t there someone else worse off than me that needs your attention?”

  “What?” She had never heard his voice sound so lifeless. That was one of the things she liked best about him. If he was angry, you knew it. If he was happy, you knew that too. Now he sounded...flat.

  “It’s just a leg that I’m losing,” he said. “You might get lucky and find a man on the edge of death. I hear that those are your favorites.” His head was aching again and his leg felt like it was on fire.

  “Thaddeus, I don’t understand what’s wrong,” she began and then she realized what she’d said. “Who told you about your leg?”

  “Are you angry that someone stole your big moment?”

  She stared at him. “Who told you?” she demanded again, her voice going slightly shrill.