Free Angel of the Somme: The Great War, Book 1 by Terri Meeker Page B

been known to induce seizure behavior. Undue stress is another cause and he needs to avoid it as well—as much as possible in wartime.”
    “Certainly, Doctor. Perhaps if you could…” Lily trailed off awkwardly.
    “Speak to the matron myself?” The doctor gave her a kind smile.
    Lily nodded. There was no point hiding it. “The matron is a big proponent of keeping the patients up and active—as you know.”
    “I’ll have a word with her. In the meantime, keep a special eye to this one, Miss Curtis. If he’s not alert and speaking by tomorrow morning, please let me know.”
    “Of course.” Lily felt a wave of relief wash over her. It was followed quickly by a much smaller wave of guilt for having such a response. Captain Dwight was a patient, just like any other. And she refused to feel anything other than…
    “Miss Curtis?” Dr. Raye’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
    “Sorry, sir. You were saying?”
    “I asked if you’d make a note to increase the Captain’s Phenobarbital to thrice daily.”
    “Certainly.” She scribbled a notation on his chart, but not before noticing the slight smirk that played around Gordy’s lips.
    Dr. Raye moved across the aisle. Lily hung the Captain’s chart at the foot of his bed before she followed.
    After they finished the room, they started working through the remaining wards. The enlisted wards were each a little larger than the officers’ ward. Three doctors on staff meant that each doctor would see about three hundred patients on their rounds, though since Dr. MacGuire was off duty, Lily and Dr. Raye would see close to four hundred. Most doctors had no choice but to rush through their patients, but Dr. Raye always took his time.
    When rounds were nearly finished, the doctor discovered a private with a gangrenous foot.
    “It’s best to operate now,” he told the scared soldier. “Unfortunately, I’ll have to leave you to finish the rounds on your own, Miss Curtis.”
    Lily blinked at him. He couldn’t be serious. Dr. Raye trusted her with rounds? Only nursing sisters ever did rounds by themselves, and that was under extreme circumstances.
    “There’s only half a dozen patients left. You’ll do fine. I’ve been watching you. Just take your usual detailed notes and leave them on my desk.”
    Dr. Raye motioned for an orderly and they loaded the soldier into a wheelchair, headed to one of the operating rooms.
    Lily swallowed and, hoping she looked more competent than she felt, continued along the row of wounded men. She only hoped she could finish rounds before the matron came into the room. If she saw Lily engaged in such a task, it might just kill the poor woman.

Chapter Nine
    When Sam woke, his head was in a hurricane of pain. It sang and whistled around him furiously. He dared a peek, just a sliver, but the light sliced into him, and he closed his eyes.
    After a few moments, he gathered himself enough to attempt to sit up. His legs were uncooperative and jellylike. His arms too felt strangely detached and trembled when he tried to move them.
    He’d last been where? The garden. The French girl in the red dress had been wheeling him into the back yard. He’d been joking with Gordy and had just looked up into the sky when something had happened—the seizure, or vision, or whatever the damned thing was. It had picked him up and thrown him into a shell hole in No Man’s Land—more than two dozen miles away.
    He moved his protesting arm to rub his forehead with shaking fingers, a lame attempt to banish the screaming pain inside his mind. If he had a few moments to collect himself, to think, apart from this damned headache, he might be able to sort out this peculiar business.
    He hadn’t actually gone to a trench. He couldn’t have. And yet, it felt so real. Realer than his existence trapped in the hospital bed. But that was impossible. It went against all sense.
    This time, his vision had been more solid, less dreamlike. And this time, the soldier hadn’t