Captured by Moonlight. Christine Lindsay

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Captured by Moonlight - Christine Lindsay

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asked in Hindi.

      “With his mother. I’ll be seeing him tonight.”

      “I want him to come and play cricket with me.”

      Tikah raced out, laughing herself, and whisked the giggling Hadassah from Laine to take her back to the room and finish preparing her for supper and bed.

      No doubt Harmindar, in the kitchen with her crew of older children, had begun to cook the evening meal. Evidence of that came with the aroma of garlic, onions, and cardamom that wafted up the stairs.

      Laine pushed through the doors to the surgery. Their patient slept in a room off to the side, while Eshana placed the instruments they’d used today into the autoclave for sterilization. She’d not heard Laine’s entrance. A sigh escaped from her, but the shine in her eyes seemed at variance with that laden breath. No doubt she savored the doctor’s visit.

      Laine couldn’t hold back her grin. “Are you coming to the party tonight? We won’t see them for a year.”

      Eshana turned to scrub the examining table. “Geoff and Abby came this morning to say their good-byes. I would have gone tonight, but I cannot be leaving the burden of such an ill patient for the younger girls.”

      “What utter rot. In the last year and a half, Tikah with no official training has developed into a fine practical nurse. It’s more likely you don’t want to go because he’s entrusted Chandra to your care.”

      Eshana’s lowered eyelashes were her answer.

      “Oh, my dear Eshana, do take a page from Abby’s book. Fall in love. Get married and have twenty children. For my sake, please, let the man know you like him.”

      Eshana’s eyes flickered wide. By her willowy shape she was as compliant as bamboo. Oh she’d bend all right, given enough pressure. But that glint of fire in her eyes proved that like a shaft of bamboo she’d snap right back, and the answering thwack would be decidedly painful for anyone who dared interfere with her charitable work.

      Laine pretended to take a cautious step backward.

      Eshana’s laughter tinkled like the silver anklets at her feet. “You are speaking such foolishness. Dr. Kaur is a Sikh and would never marry anyone but a Sikh. I as a follower of Yeshu could not be happy unless I married a man who also loved Yeshu. But it is God’s will for me to take care of Miriam’s mission. There will be no such marital bliss for me as our friend Abby enjoys. So please give to Geoff and Abby my love, and especially to my young princeling, Cam.”

      Laine adjusted the strap of her shoulder bag. “In that regard we’re united. There’ll be no such bliss for me either.” She held the surgery door ajar and let out a laugh. “I for one never wish to go through the torture of love again.”

      She left the mission and hailed a rickshaw. And if she ever did meet up again with the man who’d made her so gun-shy of romance, she’d give him a good, swift kick in the shins. It was the least he deserved.

      THREE

      The jigsaw puzzle of the old city of Amritsar fell behind. The wallah pulling Laine’s rickshaw entered the clean and geometrically laid out British Civil Lines with its red-bricked and white-columned government buildings. As the rickshaw pulled up to the club, a recording of the Wang Wang Blues belted out. Lights blazed over the regimental club and flooded the lawn and flowerbeds.

      Inside, people danced to the jazz tune. A few years ago nothing could have stopped her from sliding onto the dance floor and tripping the light fantastic. Nowadays she’d rather stride the hospital wards in a solid pair of sensible shoes.

      She shouldered her way through the crowd of merry-makers. Off to the side on a table sat piles of food, ham sandwiches, chutney, roast mutton, salads, and trays of Indian sweets. British military men and their wives stood chatting, balancing plates and glasses in their hands. Abby wound her way toward her with a plate of food. Geoff stood by the display of regimental silver with a gaggle of officers in their khaki drill trousers and shirts and ties. Cam stood at Geoff’s side as usual.

      At five, Cam already showed the tall frame he’d inherited from his natural father, but Cam emulated the character of Geoff. How that boy adored his step-father.

      As soon as the boy noticed her, he ran in her direction and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You came.”

      “You don’t think for a minute I’d let you sail to the Orient without my good-bye kiss. By the way, Eshana sends you another kiss, so here it is.” She kissed him twice on the cheek, and he fidgeted to be free. “And here’s one from your little friend, Hadassah. I saw her tonight, and she was rather put out that you weren’t there to play with her.”

      “Dassah is just a baby.” He squirmed out of her arms, a sharp furrow between his brows. “Enough kissing, Laine. You’re much more fun on the cricket pitch than acting like a girl.”

      “Oh but I am a girl, and I admit that I like kissing very, very much. You won’t appreciate that fact about girls for a few years, but my dear young man, the day will come....”

      Geoff’s gaze swung around to stop on Laine and then connected with Abby’s, a silent but pointed communication. The room suddenly felt too warm. Oh dear. He knew something. But then Geoff had a way of knowing everything.

      She gave Cam another tight hug and straightened to send him back in the direction of his step-father. “Off you go, my lamb, help your dad keep the world safe and sound for the rest of us.”

      Abby reached her as Cam raced back to Geoff. She folded Laine’s arm close and strolled with her to the veranda, away from the over-bright lights. Since her marriage to Geoff, Abby had bloomed, a veritable full-blown rose. Tonight Abby wore a chiffon sheath in pale green—its hemline swinging at mid calf—that clung to her shape and emphasized her radiance. Looking down at her own ensemble, Laine felt a twinge of regret at its dowdiness.

      She and Abby found two empty cane chairs overlooking the garden, and Laine breathed in the roses.

      “Get that in you.” Abby gave her the plate. “If I know anything about you, you’ve been too busy to eat all day.”

      Laine tucked into the plate of sandwiches and curry puffs, and spoke with her mouth half full. “Bless you, luv, how’d you guess I’d be ready to eat the leg off a table?”

      Abby signaled to a circulating waiter. “A pot of tea English style, please, and a pitcher of milk on the side.” She settled back in her chair. “Believe it or not, Laine, news of your crimes may have preceded you here tonight, so beware.”

      Laine stopped chewing and swallowed, a lump of bread sticking in her throat. “Crimes?”

      “That’s what Geoff’s in the corner nattering to the other officers about. Seems a delegation of Hindu priests and several high-caste lawyers dropped by the police station today. Caused quite a ruckus as they demanded the police start searching for the culprits who took a young woman from a Hindu temple.”

      Laine forced a laugh and took a sip of tea. “Why would Geoff associate me with such a thing?”

      “Apparently these two women were described in amazing detail. The town is heating up, and there’s enough trouble with Gandhi’s non-cooperation movement as it is.”

      A

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