The Nurse He Shouldn't Notice. Susan Carlisle

he make her nervous? He would’ve never imagined anyone could rattle this unflappable woman.

      Stepping out the door, she warned, “Be sure and latch the screen before you go to bed.”

      Maggie was running. And she wasn’t half as impressed with him as he’d like. She certainly shared no love for his family’s philanthropic endeavors. Missy Maggie reminded him of his favorite kind of candy, hard on the outside, gooey in the center. He’d like to find out what other surprises she hid.

      The next morning Court started down the bungalow’s short hall as a knock sounded at the door.

      Maggie stood outside the screened entry. She wore a scooped-neck shirt and a floral skirt, hiding what he imagined were enticing curves. Her chestnut hair hung from the nape of her neck secured by a rubber band. She looked shiny, natural and young. And completely out of place in this stark land.

      “I didn’t think you’d be up,” she said through the wire mesh.

      “You told me six-thirty, and it’s six-thirty.” He pushed the door open, stepping out.

      The glint in her eye suggested she might be laughing at him. “We’ll see if you feel this chipper tomorrow morning.”

      He still felt the same chill from her that had been present the day before. He fell into step beside her as they took a different path from last night. This one ended at a long, low building adjacent to the hospital.

      “This is what we affectionately call the mess hall.” She led the way to a short buffet line set up at one end.

      It resembled a military mess hall he’d seen in pictures.

      “The food’s prepared for the in-patients Monday through Saturday. Families bring the meals in on Sunday. Most of us find it easier to eat here than to go to the town market daily.” After filling her plate, she moved toward an empty table.

      “Hey, Court,” John Weber, the doctor who had flowm in with him, called. “Come join us. Tell us where you disappeared to yesterday.”

      “Sure.” He and Maggie took chairs at the table. “Maggie, you haven’t had a chance to meet John Weber. He works with the foundation. This is Lisa Mills and Jen Skindowski.” He directed a hand toward first the blonde and then the brunette woman sitting beside the doctor.

      She nodded to the women and shook hands with John. “I’m sorry. I thought you were the pilot.”

      John laughed. “No, I’m a general practitioner. The pilot would be Court. It’s his jet.”

      Court shrugged when her piercing gaze came back to him. She didn’t look impressed. Did she think he should sell the plane and offer the money to the hospital?

      “In fact, you could call it his baby, he loves it so much.” John took a bite of scrambled egg.

      “I imagine a plane makes it easy to get around,” she mumbled. What she left unsaid made him uncomfortable.

      “John, did you get the equipment taken care of?”

      “Yeah, the director put it in storage. I made sure it was handled carefully. So tell me about the big emergency yesterday.” John kept his focus on Court.

      “Truck and cart accident. Cart lost. A child with a clean fracture. An old man who needed a couple of stitches. The girl was doing well when I checked on her at midnight.”

      Maggie’s head jerked up. “You went to check on her in the middle of the night?”

      “Don’t sound so shocked. I like to keep a personal eye on my patients.” He’d failed to check on a patient once and he’d never make that mistake again, even if he was still a long way from feeling comfortable around children. She gave a nod of approval. It felt good to think her opinion of him had taken at least a slight upturn. Something about how she’d reacted to the girl being injured made him believe the children routinely received her special attention.

      Lisa asked Maggie a question about the facility, and they began discussing the hospital and the area. There were additional questions about the people and the type of care they most often required. Court listened, impressed by how involved Maggie was with her patients. She clearly loved her work and the Mamprusi people.

      She pushed her plate away and said to the group, “If you’re finished, why not join Court for a tour?”

      Court lagged behind the others as Maggie pointed out buildings within the compound.

      She turned to the nurses. “Don’t go outside the fence after dark and only with a companion during the day. It isn’t like at home. There’s no police or law like you’re used to.”

      Inside the hospital building she pointed out the pharmacy, office area, supply area, and the two ORs. She led them to the women’s ward where the beds looked to be World War II surplus. Family members were sitting or sleeping on the floor around their loved ones.

      Jen asked, “Why’re there people everywhere?”

      “We ask families to help care for their loved ones. There’s not enough staff to do it all,” Maggie explained.

      Had he been wrong in his evaluation of the hospital’s application? Maybe, but he wasn’t ready to concede that so early in the visit. He couldn’t let her emotional play on the situation get in the way of a comprehensive evaluation.

      The men’s and the children’s wards were much the same. Leaving the latter, Maggie stopped and looked straight at Court. “You’re the pediatrician so you need to know we don’t tell the parents if their child is dying because they’ll desert them.”

      If her intent was to drive home the point the hospital could use foundation money to hire additional stuff, she’d done it. With one-two punches.

      He’d been born in a small jungle clinic but he’d been reared around glistening state-of-the-art hospitals in Boston. Aware of the type of work the foundation supported, he’d still never been in a hospital this primitive.

      “It’s time for rounds,” Maggie said. “Lisa and Jen, I’ll leave you to help out in the children’s ward. One of the staff members will show you what needs to be done. Doctors, we’ll meet Dr. Roberts in the men’s ward.”

      Court looked out the window of the hallway linking the two buildings while they walked. The line of people waiting, sitting or standing stretched as far as he could see. He couldn’t keep the amazement out of his voice. “Are all those people waiting to be seen?”

      “Yes. We see around three hundred a day. And do eight to twelve surgeries.”

      He whistled. She made it sound like there was nothing to it.

      She met his look. “Another reason we have difficulty keeping doctors and nurses.”

      They entered the men’s ward. “Dr. Roberts, I brought you help. Gentlemen, I’ll see you later in clinic.” Maggie turned and left.

      Maggie looked across the packed dirt yard in the direction of the patient clinic. She scanned the crowd of people waiting in the open-air treatment area. With relief, she spotted Court’s dark-haired head. He had stepped out of the building, deep in conversation with one of the local orderlies who spoke English.

      She hadn’t spoken to Court since earlier in the morning. Lunch was taken in shifts, so she had no idea how his day was going. She’d bet he wouldn’t have any trouble sleeping tonight. A couple of times from a distance she’d had a chance to watch him work. His personality didn’t endear him to her but she’d grudgingly admit he was a good doctor, maybe one of the best they’d seen in some time.

      He stopped speaking to the tall man, looked up and met her gaze, like he’d known she needed him. A tingle zipped along her spine. She waved him in her direction and walked to meet him halfway.

      There were two small furrows between his brows. “Is something wrong?”

      Her voice lowered. “I need you to