Gladioli in August (5 page)

“ITU nurse, you said.”

“And theatre, yeah.”

Micah held her gaze, lowering his voice. “Then you've seen this being done a hundred times. Jael, these people need you. If you show any hesitation, no one will trust you. However, you fix him up and word will get around, and you'll never have a problem on the island again. Now, you have an assistant who has never done this before, but I'm willing to do everything you tell me. Just let God guide your hands.”

Jael ripped open the gauze with shaking hands. “Then let's do this.”

Micah shot her a slight smile before glancing up at the distraught woman beside them. He spoke rapid local dialect.

“What did you say?”

“I told her everything was going to be all right. Because it is.”

Jael sent up a succession of telegram prayers as she worked to set the broken bones. As she finally finished, one of the workers brought her water to wash with and a pitcher of ice cold juice to drink.

“Thank you. He needs complete bed rest for at least a week.” She paused as Micah translated. “And we'll be back tomorrow to check on him.”

She drank about half the pitcher of juice, leaving the rest for Micah who was overseeing the men carry her patient back to the house. Then she washed her hands and did her best to get the blood off her shirt and slacks.

“Losing battle,” Micah told her. “But I put five sets of scrubs in the locker in the plane. Figured they might come in handy after yesterday.”

“Thank you.”

****

When they got back to the plane, the radio was buzzing. Micah picked it up. “I'll keep my back to you while you change.” He thumbed the mic. “OK, I'm here, keep your hair on.”

“One of the women on the Franz ranch has gone into labor—I'm assuming its Mrs. Franz although the message didn't specify. Can you assist?”

“I assume you don't mean me personally,” Micah snorted. “Give me the co-ordinates.” He scribbled on the paper as Jael strapped in beside him. “OK. Babies can take all day. Better warn everyone else we'll be delayed, or come tomorrow.”

“Just delay them,” Jael told him.

Micah raised an eyebrow. This woman never ceased to amaze him. “Are you sure?”

“Steve can handle the clinic. And you can land in the dark, right?”

“Of course I can,” he snapped.

“Then we keep going until we're done.”

“OK. Danny, Jael has spoken. Just tell everyone we're coming, but I'm not sure when we'll get there. Out.” He took off and flew towards the Franz ranch. “Please tell me you've delivered a baby before.”

“During my training,” Jael said quietly. “Not much call for that in ITU or the OR.”

“I guess not.” He sighed. Why did he have to end up with a nurse who seemingly knew nothing and wasn't prepared for the unpredictability of emergency medicine? In fact, why hadn't they just sent a doctor out instead?

He brought the plane into land. The strip was closer to the ranch house than he liked. If he ever lost control on landing he could quite easily end up on the front porch.

Mr. Franz ran down the steps to greet them, panic etched on his face.

Great. First time father in meltdown mode.

Jael grabbed her pack. “Micah, can you bring the box?”

Muttering under his breath, he did as she asked and followed her from the plane.

“Please, hurry. She's in pain,” Mr. Franz said.

Micah resisted the urge to say the stupid comment that came to mind. “Panicking won't help,” he said instead. “It'll just upset her more.”

Mr. Franz led them into the house and pointed to the stairs. An agonized scream echoed down the hallway.

“I need hot water and clean towels…” Jael broke off as Mr. Franz ran from the house. “Fine. Don't then. Micah, can you get them for me?”

“Sure.” He gave her the box. “It sounds like she's upstairs.” He turned and headed down the hallway in search of a kitchen. Overhead he heard footsteps and screams as he boiled water and assembled clean linen. Balancing the linen over his shoulder, empty bowl under his arm and jugs of hot water in his hands, he made his way upstairs.

The screams came from behind the only closed door. Figures. He put one of the jugs down and tapped on the door.

“Come in.”

He opened the door and picked up the jug. He took three steps, then gasped.

Jael hissed her displeasure. “For goodness sake, don't be such a prude. Put the stuff over here then come and help.”

He couldn't move. It was all he could do not to throw up. Blood he could deal with, but this…this was something else. No longer would he snap at men who couldn't deal with their wives in pain. The woman was pale, covered in sweat and her legs… No way was that normal.

He closed his eyes. Actually, he'd never look at a woman the same way again.

“Micah!” Jael's harsh voice made him jump. “Get over here. I need you to go to the top of the bed and translate for me. What I don't need is another panicking male!”

“OK.” He put the things next to her and sat by the woman's head. She gripped his hand tightly.

“OK, tell her I can see the head.”

“Already?” he asked, though rather relieved as that explained what he'd seen, however swift the glimpse had been.

“Yes, now tell her.”

Micah translated as Jael delivered the baby. He couldn't believe the amount of energy it took, or the way the woman crunched the bones in his hand.

“It's a girl.” Jael wrapped the baby and offered her to the woman who accepted the child.

Micah rubbed his hand. “That it?”

“Have to wait for the placenta, but…” Jael broke off as Mrs. Franz screamed again. “Take the baby and put her in the crib. Something's wrong.”

Micah did so and looked at her. “What's up?”

“I don't know…” Jael put a hand on Mrs. Franz's stomach. “Another contraction…”

“Twins?” he asked.

“Looks that way.” Jael glanced at him. “Translate for me?”

He nodded, doing as she asked as she delivered not one more baby, but another two.

She glanced at him again as finally Mrs. Franz leaned back exhausted, surrounded by three tiny babies all swaddled in the clean linen. “That's why it was so fast. Want to go and find Mr. Franz and tell him he's a father of three? Give me a few minutes to clean up in here?”

Only too grateful to escape the overheated room filled with the stench of sweat and blood, Micah stood and hurried to the door. He ran downstairs and out onto the porch. He rubbed his sleeve over his damp brow and sucked in several deep breaths. If he never saw another birth again it'd be too soon. But, wow, that girl was cool under pressure when it came down to it. She seemed to be coming into her own. He leaned against the railing, a new found respect for her growing within him.

“Well?”

He looked up into the anguish and anxious gaze of Mr. Franz. “All girls,” he said holding up three fingers. “Triplets.”

“Is Sybil all right? Can I go and see her?”

Micah nodded. He headed over to the plane and sank wearily into the pilot's seat. He picked up the mic. “Achor base, this is Micah, come in.”

“How's it going?” Danny asked.

“Triplets—three girls. Jael was amazing, but I'm not an assistant. Next time we'll need two of the medics. Give us another half hour or so and we'll be ready to continue as scheduled. But we don't have time for the full list.” He grabbed the clipboard, checking off numbers. “We'll do one, five, seven, eight, ten and eleven on the list and call it a day. Let them know for me.”

“Jael won't like it.”

“I don't care. She was the one who insisted we prioritize. Out.” He leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes for a moment.

The plane beneath him moved ever so slightly. His eyes jerked open. Then Jael appeared beside him.

“Are you sleeping?”

He shook his head then reasoned the movement that startled him was simply her climbing aboard and closing the door.

“I revised the list,” he said giving her the clipboard as she sat down.

“What?” she snapped. “We have the whole list to do yet.”

“We don't have time, barely half a day if that. Those two emergencies ate into the schedule and kyboshed it. Besides, you were the one who wanted to prioritize yesterday. So do it.”

“Fine.” She looked down the list and marked some off in pencil. “These.”

Micah looked and grinned as her marks exactly matched his alterations. Another plus for her. She was finally on the same wavelength as him. “That's the one's I already gave Danny.”

“You already radioed?”

“I did.” He saw irritation flare in her gaze, but he ignored her and instead chose to concentrate on taking off without hitting either house or trees. As he flew towards the next visit, he noticed a section of dying trees covering the hillside to his left. Strange. They'd had the usual amount of rainfall.

“I don't get you.” Jael's voice dragged his mind back to the present.

He sighed. “Is that a good thing?”

“You can be so pleasant at times. When I needed your help, you were there. You did what I asked, no questions asked, even if you didn't want to. Yet you can be so off-handed and just plain rude with me and everyone else at times.”

Micah shrugged. “Just blame my father and the lack of parental love and affection.”

She shot him a half smile. “Then maybe you should copy your Heavenly Father instead.”

He focused his gaze out of the window. Why had he brought up his father? He tried not to think about him. His fingers whitened on the controls as his mind filled with the sounds of a slamming door, footsteps on the stairs and a man calling his name.

4

Micah jerked awake. The same nightmare had bothered him for over a week now. Ever since that tiny, two sentence conversation with Jael about his father. At least she hadn't asked any more questions—not yet. He looked at the clock and groaned. Only midnight. He'd barely dropped exhausted into bed an hour ago. The constant tremors every few hours made sleep hard enough as it was. Small earthquakes were common here, but the quakes had increased of late.

He'd been concerned enough to radio the USGS. They'd said there had been some movement in the magma chamber of Gunung Berapi, but nothing to worry about, as it was normal. They were keeping tabs on the mountain from Portland. Right now the tremors were tectonic in nature, but at the first sign of a harmonic tremor they'd put the island on alert.

Pushing to his feet, Micah grabbed his Bible and headed outside. Crossing quickly to the small chapel, he let himself in. Perhaps if he played the organ, then read and prayed for a while, it'd fill his mind with something other than his father and earthquakes and enable him to sleep.

He slid inside quietly and lit a couple of candles for light before sitting at the instrument. He ran his fingers over the keys and closed his eyes. Without the need for music, he began to play hymn after hymn, ranging from old ones such as “Sovereign Grace O'er Sin Abounding” to the newer ones like “Bless the Lord.”

Gradually he became aware of someone standing behind him. He glanced around.

“That's lovely,” Jael told him. “I can't play with the music, never mind without.”

He shrugged, dropping his hands into his lap. “Just something I can do. I couldn't sleep,” he added quickly, feeling the need to explain why he was there.

“It's fine. I wasn't coming in to complain. And I didn't mean to disturb you. I just wondered who else was still up. Well, good night.” She turned to leave.

Micah looked at her back. He craved company. And for some reason he couldn't fathom, he wanted her company. There was something about her that lit a tiny spark within him. “Don't go, Jael.”

She glanced back. “Are you sure?”

He nodded, patting the seat beside him. “Come sit a while and listen to me play. What's your favorite hymn?”

“I have several.” Jael sat, a thoughtful look crossing her face. “But I do like ‘When the Lord in Glory Comes'.”

He smiled. “Rachel calls that the Not Hymn, because almost every line starts with the word not.”

She nodded to the ring on the chain around his neck. “Girlfriend?”

Micah shook his head. “No. She's my sister.” He had no intentions of explaining the ring to anyone. Instead, he turned his attention to the organ and began the piece of music.

Jael pulled across a hymn book and sang as he played. As they finished she glanced at him. “Just play anything and I'll sing it.”

“That's dangerous,” he said. He thought, then winked and launched into ‘chopsticks.'

Jael elbowed him and giggled. “Anything that's in the hymn book. Unless you want me to make up a song about Micah the pilot that goes to that tune.”

He chuckled. “I'm good, thanks.”

Five hymns later, a door slammed somewhere to his left. He jumped and stopped playing, the breath catching in his throat. Footsteps echoed.

A voice called his name. “How many times have I told you not to touch it?”

“Sorry. I'm sorry. I won't break it. I just wanted to play…” He scooted backwards into the corner, holding his hands up to defend himself.

“You'll be sorry when I'm done with you.” The belt swished…

“Micah…” His name echoed.

Something soft touched his arm. “Micah? Are you all right?”

He peeped through his fingers. “Jael?”

Concern tinged her otherwise beautiful face. “Yeah. Are you all right?”

Micah lifted his head, not sure which was more embarrassing. The fact his cheeks were wet or that he was cowering in the corner like a scared six-year-old. He pushed upright. “I'm fine. It's late. I should go to bed. Or I won't be fit to fly in the morning.” He hurried from the room before she could stop him or say anything.