Free Yankee Surgeon by Elizabeth Gilzean Page A

the surgeons ’ room. “That chair behind the door is almost as soft as this one. Excuse my not getting up to receive you, won ’ t you? I ’ m too comfortable.”
    Sally took in the scene—George lounging full length in the senior surgeon ’ s special armchair, Dr. Tremayne sitting on one corner of the desk and very much absorbed in the operation of pouring some dark liquid into three cups with one hand and a stream of what could only be cream from a jug with the other.
    “Take a pew and don ’ t be impatient, Nurse Conway. This isn ’ t just any coffee!”
    Feeling uncomfortably informal, Sally did as she was told. But the chair was sheer bliss and she relaxed.
    “Try that and if you want more sugar ... shout.”
    Sally took the cup gingerly from her surgeon—knowing that it should be the other way around—and sipped it, watched very closely by a pair of light blue eyes.
    “How is it?”
    “Why ... it ’ s nice!” Sally said in such astonishment that there was a hoot of laughter from the two men.
    “Of course, it ’ s nice!” John mimicked her intonation. “It better be. I brought the coffee all the way from home ... special blend it is that my mother has made up.”
    Sally glanced at George w ho shook his head.
    “He took one sniff at the tin of our coffee and made rude noises and rushed over to his room. Said it didn ’ t even smell like coffee...”
    There was a comfortable silence in the small room while they drank their coffee, and Sally had to admit that she felt new life flowing through her.
    “Have another cup, Nurse Conway. You ’ ve got the time and I guess the inclination if the expression on your face while you were drinking my nectar was any indication.”
    Sally shook herself back to attention. It was as fatal as usual to sit down ... to let slip the tight rein of concentration. Strange thoughts could creep in...
    “Yes, please. It must be hard to make.” She knew she must sound silly and she was grateful when the phone rang, jerking them all into alertness.
    George was the nearest and he picked it up. “Theater here. What did you say? No, there ’ s absolutely no need. We ’ ve got it all taped. Don ’ t be silly girl ... go back and enjoy your bed and be thankful that you can. Good night.” He put the receiver back hastily. “Some women never know when to shut up, do they?”
    “That was a certain house surgeon I take it?” John ’ s eyebrows lifted crookedly.
    “You can take her any time you like,” George growled. “I ’ m willing to bet you pounds to dollars that she won ’ t have the sense to stay in her little white bed.”
    “I guess I ’ ve got enough sense not to lose dollars on a sure thing. You can let Nurse Conway here loose if she does turn up. Nurse Conway has the neatest line in the most perfect squelches I ever did hear.”
    Sally jumped to her feet and put her cup back on the tray. Her cheeks were pink. “That ’ s not quite fair, sir ... Thanks for the coffee, now I must be scrubbing up.” Her words came out in a hasty jumble.
    John reached out a long arm and caught her by the wrist. “Don ’ t you know yet when you ’ re being ribbed, honey? You ’ d better get used to it if you ’ re going to work back in the States...”
    Before Sally could do more than glare accusingly at George for giving away personal information the door was flung open and Claris Stornoway stood there, her eyes very green and very angry.
    “So this is why you tell me to stay in my bed—so that you can have a party with a theater staff nurse!”

 
    CHAPTER FOUR
    The silence that greeted Claris Stornoway ’ s angry entrance into the surgeons ’ room seemed to go on and on. It took Sally several seconds to realize that John was furious; she would have shrunk back in her corner if he hadn ’ t kept his grip on her wrist. She could catch a glimpse of George ’ s face and she knew he was watching to see how John would deal with the situation.
    “Unless I ’ m