to review the day’s events. But her thoughts kept returning to Jared Steele, to the craggy harshness of his face as he directed care for the two small boys.
The snap in his response when she’d asked about the grafting troubled her. There was something he hadn’t said, something that made her wonder why the other doctors had quit.
But more than that, she wondered why such sadness filled Dr. Steele’s eyes.
Glory sipped her tea, peered up at the stars.
Why did You send me here, Lord? she prayed silently. It’s obvious he’s got anger issues. He doesn’t want to talk about his grafting procedure, but I thought that’s why You wanted me to come. So what’s Your purpose for me?
She received no response in the still silence of her heart. But that didn’t stop her from pondering why God had led her so far from home, away from her long-held goal to fulfill the deathbed promise she’d made to her mother.
God knew how much she wanted to honor both her parents by returning to the Arctic and caring for the Inuit they loved.
I will go back, Mom, just as soon as I can. I promise you.
Glory had explained her delay to the elders in the village of Tiska. Everyone said they understood. They’d wished her good luck and offered a traditional Inuit blessing.
Now, as the night breeze toyed with her hair, a yearning filled GloryAnn’s heart. Leilani seemed nice enough, but Jared Steele was cool and prickly and above all, dictatorial.
It struck her then just how far she’d traveled from everything that was familiar.
Despite the fragrance, the warmth, the soothing lull of the ocean tides, she longed to be back at home soon where ice and snow swathed the land in a thick pure blanket of peace. She ached to hear the howl of sled dogs fall silent and be replaced by the whistle of the Arctic wind as it seeped through the cracks of the house, soothing her to sleep. She yearned to wake to the wide generous smiles of her people, let them fill the empty aching spot in her heart.
She’d been gone too long.
Only six months, okay, Lord? And then I have to go back.
Even Dr. Jared Steele, with his peremptory orders, couldn’t sway her from that goal.
Chapter Two
Jared glanced up from his desk through his open window to watch Dr. Cranbrook walk toward the mission.
She occasionally paused, once to pick a small daisy that had pushed its way through the rocky soil, again to smile at a Java sparrow pecking the hardened ground. Then she studied the Kuhio vine Diana had insisted on planting on their anniversary, the first year they’d come here.
He shoved the memory away, mouth tightening as Dr. Cranbrook lifted her face into the wind, allowing her long golden-brown hair to stream behind her. No doubt she, like most tourists, thought this was paradise.
He knew better.
Jared had been so impressed by GloryAnn Cranbrook’s competence yesterday he’d failed to notice how frail she was. In the blazing sunlight she now emerged pinched and pale, the big green eyes too large for her oval face, jutting cheekbones too pronounced. Would she be up to Agapé’s demands?
Then he recalled her composure last night when he’d warned her not to get too close to the patients. Dr. Cranbrook hadn’t liked his warning, but she had managed to suppress any retort. She might look frail, but he had a hunch she could take whatever was dished out. Good. She might stay a little longer.
She stood statue still, staring out over the water.
GloryAnn—an unusual name but it suited her. Captivated by her look of perfect peace, Jared realized he hadn’t felt that way himself for a long time—three years, in fact.
“Hang on to it as long as you can,” he wanted to tell her. “What you’ll see here will steal your peace away and you’ll never feel it again.”
But he could hardly say that to Elizabeth’s newest protégée. So Jared gathered up his files and waited at the main desk for Dr. Cranbrook to push through the doors.
“Good morning, Dr. Steele. Isn’t it a lovely day?” She glanced at the folders in his arms. “Do you prefer to do rounds first?”
“Yes.” The building seemed strangely brighter. Jared walked beside her down the corridor, told himself to concentrate on business.
GloryAnn listened as he described each case, glanced at the file for the child’s name then struck up some silly conversation with them. It irritated him that she spent so much time talking nonsense when there was so much to be done. The sheath of amber hair falling over one shoulder bugged him. So did the way she met each patient’s stare with that reassuring smile.
Finally they arrived at the patient she’d treated last night. She smiled at the boy, held his hand as Jared examined him.
“He’s going to need these burns peeled soon.” A giggle from behind him drew Jared’s attention to the laughing child. He half turned, caught a glimpse of GloryAnn making funny faces. “Dr. Cranbrook?”
“I heard you.” She straightened.
“May I ask what you were doing?”
“Taking his mind off what you were doing.” She pulled a small plastic disk from her pocket, showed the boy how to move it so the steel ball inside would follow the path. “You try it, Tony,” she encouraged.
Tony did and giggled at his success. GloryAnn turned to Jared, lifted one eyebrow and inquired, “Shall we see Joseph?”
“If you’ve finished playing.”
“For now.” She said, tongue in cheek.
Jared fought his impatience down. Her heels clicked on the marble floor. She hummed a little song about sunshine and flowers. Normally, extraneous noise irritated him, but Jared found himself relaxing as the soft melody carried down the hall.
Joseph was in pain. Jared checked him over quickly before increasing his meds. GloryAnn’s attention focused on the boy.
“Do you have anything he could listen to?” Her hand grasped the small fingers and cradled them when he moaned.
“I beg your pardon?”
“A radio? A CD player, perhaps? Something to take his mind off his pain when his family isn’t here with him?” She paid him little heed, her focus on the boy. “He’s going to have to lie still for quite a while. We could make that easier if we gave him something else to think about.”
“Such as?”
“Is there someone who could read to him in his language?”
“Dr. Cranbrook, we don’t have the staff or the time to entertain—” He stopped midsentence, a rap on the glass window interrupting him. His mother-in-law stood outside, beckoning.
“Not again.” She’d already called him twice this morning.
“Dr.
