Free Gift from the Sea by Anna Schmidt Page A

rang it with all her strength. “Get me a bucket of snow,” she said when Sean came at a run.
    She arranged the covers to expose his calves and feet and eased a rubber sheet under both legs. “Sorry,” she murmured when he stiffened and bit his lip against crying out.
    Sean returned with the snow and Sarah. “What can I do?” Sarah asked, shrugging out of her coat, scarf and mittens. “He was doing so well.”
    “It’s a good sign. The pain means he’s regaining some feeling. Repeat the massages every fifteen minutes or so for the next hour—longer if the pain doesn’t abate.” Maggie scooped up snow and began massaging Stefan’s feet and ankles. “Perhaps I should stay.”
    “No,” Sarah assured her. “I can do this, and it wouldn’t do to disappoint the duchess. She’s talked of nothing else all morning.”
    Seeing that the massage was already bringing relief, Maggie found the tube of ointment the doctor had prescribed for his nearly healed fingers. She squeezed some into her palm and spread it over the back of his hand and then down between the fingers and over the palm, then repeated the same on the opposite hand. “Better?” she asked in her generic nurse’s voice when she’d finished.
    He closed his fingers around hers, his eyes locked on hers. In that instant she was aware of one thing only—the warmth and strength of his fingers on her skin. Maggie felt a wondrous sense of connection instead of the revulsion she might have imagined at the very idea that this man might touch her intentionally.
    “Thank you,” he whispered.
    Flustered by the sudden assault on her senses, she pulled her hand free. “Not at all,” she said. “Mrs. Chadwick is a natural nurse.” She dunked a small towel into the bucket of melting snow, squeezed the excess moisture from it and placed it on his forehead with the professional efficiency that came with having performed the same task dozens of time. “I leave you in good hands here.”
    “Have a lovely afternoon,” Sarah said. “Let the duchess spend her money on you. Goodness knows she has enough of it.”
    Maggie smiled the first genuine smile she’d given anyone all day. “Sarah!”
    “Well, she does,” Sarah replied defensively.
    “Then I shall see if we might bring back something for everyone—even you,” Maggie teased as she put on her coat and wrapped her shawl over her hair and shoulders.
    “If it’s a gift-giving mood you’re in, don’t forget our guest here.” Maggie saw Sarah actually wink at Stefan andwas rooted to the spot by the door when his face, so recently contorted in pain, was transformed by his brilliant smile.
    In spite of his poor health, his smile radiated strength. If Maggie had passed him on the street, she would have thought him interesting, appealing, someone worth getting to know. She might have instantly identified him as a kindred spirit. She might have smiled back, even greeted him. There had been a time when she might even have flirted with him. His eyes moved from Sarah to her, and his smile wavered.
    “Have you forgotten something?” Sarah asked, glancing back at her as she continued to massage Stefan’s feet.
    “No. I—” She could not seem to look away from Stefan—nor he from her. Shaking free of his gaze, she reminded herself that this man she had momentarily thought attractive was German. He was the enemy. “No,” she said firmly as she turned away. “I’ll return as soon as possible,” she called.
    “Not likely we’ll see her ’til tomorrow,” Maggie heard Sarah confide to Stefan. “The duchess does love to shop.”

Chapter Five
    M aggie barely heard Jeanne’s chatter as Frederick drove the three of them in the carriage into town. Jeanne was going on about how much more comfortable it would be if they were riding in the automobile Frederick had left in New York.
    “You would love it, Maggie,” she gushed. “On the open road it can be a little like flying. Freddie has promised to teach me