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Healing Tides
Healing Tides
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Healing Tides

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Healing Tides
Lois Richer

The moment GloryAnn Cranbrook met her new patient at the children's clinic, she broke a rule by getting attached.But at least she felt something, unlike her handsome boss, Dr. Jared Steele. The man who'd once cared enough to open the clinic now refused to perform the technique he'd become famous for. The technique that could save the boy's life. Why? And could GloryAnn–and the child who needed them both–change his stubborn mind?

Healing Tides

Lois Richer

For the lovely ladies of Glaslyn whose generous

spirits washed over me like a healing tide.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Chapter One

Once he’d written up the charts and the nursing shift had changed, the hospital settled down to its usual midnight calm.

The drag of an overfull day sucked at his energy, but Dr. Jared Steele kept pushing himself to stay awake, kept looking for some sign that their newest patient, a young boy from Venezuela, would make it.

Joy to the world.

The carol poured from the caretaker’s radio down the hall.

Christmas—it used to be such a happy time. That last one, Diana had dressed Nicholas up like Santa’s elf—

He slammed the door closed on the thought, forced his mind to blank out the pain.

At three o’clock one of the nurses brought a fax from Elizabeth Wisdom.

Sending you help. Best there is. Don’t spoil it. E

He shoved the paper in his pocket, stifled the epithet that rose up his throat. Do-gooders who thought life in Hawaii would be little more than a beach vacation. Doubtful this one would last three months—like the others.

Jared leaned back in the chair, stretched his legs in front and began rotating his head, trying to ease out the crick in his neck. The boy awoke, watched him.

Jared checked to see if the nurses were around. They weren’t. He reached out, picked up the boy’s hand. Steady pulse. Good.

“Hey, champ,” he whispered. “You’re hanging in there. You keep doing your part and I’ll do mine, okay?”

The solemn gray eyes blinked.

“Not much of a Christmas for you, is it?”

No response.

“I know how you feel.” He rubbed his thumb back and forth over the baby-smooth skin, reminded of another child, one who’d been stolen from him. “Close your eyes and relax. It’s okay. I’m here. I’ll take care of you.”

He kept talking and eventually the boy’s lashless lids drooped, his chest moved in a smooth even rhythm. But Jared didn’t leave and he didn’t go to sleep. And when the boy flatlined he was there to begin resuscitation immediately.

“Don’t die on me,” he whispered as he pressed the thin chest repeatedly. “Too many have gone already. You have to live.”

The heartbeat fluttered back.

“That’s right. You can do it. Come on.”

But as the dark night grew chilly and shadows moved outside, Jared recognized the signs of his own powerlessness and chafed against it.

“Don’t go,” he begged. “The world needs kids like you to make it better.” But the boy remained comatose. At four-fifteen the little life began slipping away.

Jared forced the prayer from his heart.

“Don’t take him. He’s just a kid. His parents have only him.” The heart monitor stumbled, came back slower, less responsive. Bitterness welled in a wave so large he could hardly swallow past it.

“You have Nicholas,” he said. “Isn’t my son enough?”

No answer.

Jared dredged up long-forgotten training, coaxing the frail body to call upon its last resources. By six o’clock he was able to hand over to his assistant, assured that for now, the child would live.

He walked out of the mission to the rocky precipice that overlooked the silver-gilt ocean and watched the flickering rays of sun smear the morning sky crimson. In the caverns of his mind Jared heard a squeaky little voice he hadn’t heard in three years.

A voice silenced by a madman.

“Look, Daddy, a boat on Christmas morning. Is it Santa Claus?”

“Why?” he whispered, heart squeezing in misery.

The sun ascended. Humanity awoke. Around the world people were opening their gifts, laughing, loving. But inside Jared’s soul lay a barrenness that yearned for answers.

Heaven remained mute.

Two days later

“It’s a mission. A hospital for burned children. It’s called Agapé and it’s in Hawaii.”

Dr. GloryAnn Cranbrook struggled to absorb the information. She’d known Elizabeth Wisdom for ten years and never once had she heard anything about a mission. Just how many projects did Elizabeth and her foundation have?

“Hawaii?” she repeated, uncertain she’d heard correctly.

“Oahu.” Elizabeth’s dreamy smile hinted at fond memories. “I was asked to sit on the board of Agapé many years ago by—a relative.”

So Elizabeth was connected to the mission. But Glory knew a lot about The Wisdom Foundation and she knew Elizabeth had no siblings, so this mystery relative was intriguing.

“Agapé has been internationally recognized for its work with injured children.” Sixty-plus years hadn’t left a mark on Elizabeth’s clear skin. “Our mission boasts the latest in equipment, specialized staff, and with Dr. Steele’s new grafting procedure, the latest treatment for burned children. Your job would involve working with him as on-staff pediatrician. For six months.”

“I did spend a large part of my internship on burn wards,” GloryAnn admitted. “I also spent a year studying the psychological effects of physical damage as it impacts a burn victim.”

“Because of your mother.” Elizabeth’s austere face softened.

“Yes. She suffered greatly.” Her chest constricted with the ache of loss. “She was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

Elizabeth touched her shoulder, brown eyes melting with sympathy.

“I know you promised her you’d go back to the Arctic, to the Inuit.”

“I have to.” GloryAnn knew Elizabeth would understand.

“Of course. But I understand there is now a temporary doctor servicing your village. If you could delay your return by six months, to help the children at Agapé, I’d really appreciate it. Only until I can find a successor.”

GloryAnn took a deep breath. There was only one response she could make.

“If that’s what you need, Elizabeth, I’m more than happy to go.”

“I had no intention of asking you so soon, but—”

GloryAnn leaned forward, covered the long thin fingers with her own.

“You and your foundation gave me back my dream, paid for me to continue at medical school after Dad died, when there was no possible way I could have gone on. I can never repay you for that.” She smiled at her benefactor, squeezed her arm. “I’ll be happy if I can pass on even a portion of the generosity you’ve shown me.”

“Dear Glory. Thank you so much.” Elizabeth enveloped her in a hug perfumed with her favored jasmine. “Of all the women I’ve selected for scholarships, you’ve seemed the most like my daughter. I promise you won’t regret this decision. In fact, I’m praying that God will use you to do great things at Agapé.”

“I don’t care about great things. I just want to do His will, to make a difference wherever He sends me,” GloryAnn murmured softly.

“And you will, my dear. I know it.”

Elizabeth smiled with a confidence GloryAnn envied.

So this was what paradise looked like in January.

“We are almost there, miss,” the driver told her.

“Thank you.”

GloryAnn peered out the window, trying to get a better look at her new home. She caught the tiniest glimpse of the Pacific through a labyrinth of volcanic slopes. Honolulu’s lights had long since disappeared, leaving polka dots of brightness sprinkled across the surrounding countryside.

The car swung hard to the left. GloryAnn clung to her seat with both hands, hardly daring to breathe as they sped along the winding road. Apparently her driver knew only two ways of driving—fast and faster.

Never in a million years would Glory have guessed she’d be living in Hawaii, even for six months. But how could she refuse Elizabeth’s gentle request when the same woman had come to her rescue after her father had died. His death had left her with barely enough funds to pay back the loan he’d borrowed against his life insurance for her first year’s tuition money. Elizabeth had been a mentor, a friend and, as it turned out, the only reason Glory had been able to complete her education.

This was Glory’s opportunity to pass on Elizabeth’s generosity.

A two-story white stucco building perched ahead of them gleamed in the moonlight. It was fronted by a big sign: Agapé. The letters looked as if a child had written them. Underneath, For the Keiki. For the Children.

The sweet, heady fragrance of bougainvillea wafted in, carried by a soft sea breeze that ruffled the American flag fluttering high above the building. Bright driveway lights chased away the shadows. Behind the building Glory saw intermittent red-and-white flashes burst into the sky.

“What’s that?” she asked the driver.

“Life Flight. Helicopter. They bring the little ones.”

Probably not the best time to arrive. The driver opened the door and held it as Glory got out of the car.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“Mahalo.”

She stood for a moment to soak up the sound of swaying palms, pounding surf and whisper-wind.

Aloha, Hawaii.

She followed the driver toward the big glass door.

Inside, the mission was bustling.

“Incoming, Dr. Steele.” A woman in a crisp white uniform pulled a cart filled with supplies from a room behind the counter.

“I heard.” A tall lean man appeared, short-cropped hair tousled, pale-blue eyes narrowed in concentration. He flung a chart onto the counter, settled his stethoscope around his neck as he moved. He paused in front of Glory.

“Who are you?”