The Mechanic & the MD

by Linda Shenton-Matchett

  They entered the vast foyer, and Doris gasped. A shimmering crystal chandelier dangled from the twenty-foot ceiling, rainbow shards of light dancing across the mosaic tile floor. Nurses in dazzling white uniforms hurried through the massive foyer, their voices barely above a whisper.

  An elderly nurse stood at the bottom of the stairs, hands clasped in front of her. “Welcome, ladies. I am Sister Greene, head nurse of this facility. You may stow your personal items behind the desk, then follow me. The nurses will follow me for a brief tour, and I will explain my expectations for you.”

  Doris leaned toward Amanda. “She’s a nun?”

  “No, silly. Nurses are called sisters over here.”

  “Oh. Thanks.”

  Sister Greene clapped her hands. “No talking, ladies. We have much to cover in a short time.” She peered at them. “Which of you is Doris Strealer?”

  Doris raised her hand.

  “As an ambulance driver, there’s no need for you to see the wards, so you are to report to the stables that have been converted to a garage where you will be trained in hospital procedures and driving techniques. It is unusual for hospitals to house their own ambulance, but the size and nature of our facility has called for this variance from normal protocols. Your services will also be shared with the dispatch facility, and a schedule will be worked out accordingly.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Where will I find the stables?”

  “On the northeast corner of the estate.” Sister Greene’s gaze slid to Amanda and the other nurses, silently dismissing Doris.

  “Thank you.” Doris bowed at the retreating back of the head nurse then grinned at Amanda. “See you around, sister.” She shoved open the heavy wooden door and barreled into the firm chest of a white-coated figure. “Oh!” She stumbled backward. Strong hands grabbed her, and she regained her footing. “I’m sorry.”

  “This is a hospital. Please show some decorum.”

  Doris lifted her chin and glared at the doctor. “I apologized. There’s no need to chop off my head.”

  He released her then stared down his nose, his piercing hazel-eyed gaze raking her from head to toe. “What are you doing here? Civilians are not allowed to visit.”

  Aware of her rumpled outfit and travel-weary appearance, she resisted the urge to smooth her hair and clothes for the condescending man. Just because he was a doctor, didn’t mean he had the right to be rude. She crossed her arms. “I’m an ambulance driver with the Red Cross Motor Corps. Sister Greene sent me to find the garage. Not that I owe you any more of an explanation, but I’m thrilled to be here, and in my excitement I didn’t pay attention. It won’t happen again.”

  “Pertinent little thing, aren’t you?”

  Head cocked, she frowned up at the handsome physician who towered over her. Tall and good looking. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had to look up to a guy. Whoa, where had that thought come from? His height was irrelevant. She was there to work, not date.

  “Look, I apologized and—” Her eyes widened, and she chuckled. “Wait a minute…I recognize you…I can’t believe you’re here. Not surprising that you’ve given me a tongue lashing for a minor infraction. You always were a bit pretentious. Sure, I’ll straighten up, but you need to lighten up.”

  He puffed out his chest. “You can’t speak to me like that, and I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

  “Yes, you have. I’m Doris Strealer, and you’re Ronnie McCann. You were ahead of me in high school, a senior when I was a freshman. You used to bring your car to my father’s garage before he sold it.”

  j

  Ron’s mouth gaped, and the air whooshed from his lungs. This statuesque, self-assured brunette was nothing like the gangly, brown-eyed teenager who had looked like a scarecrow in her oversized coveralls and a newsboy cap on her head. Visions of her hunched over the engine compartment of his car, wrench in hand and a grease streak on her cheek flitted through his mind. “How…why...”

  Hands on her hips, she grinned. “At a loss for words, Doctor McCann? Well, that’s a first.”

  He cleared his throat, his face warm. Since when did he blush? Good grief, the girl…er…woman would think him an imbecile. With his current behavior, she wouldn’t be far off in her estimation. He swallowed. “We’re in England. I didn’t expect to run into anyone I know. You surprised me. That’s all. Are you one of our new nurses?”

  “Gracious me, no. I’m with the Red Cross Motor Corps. Driving ambulances for you and maintaining the vehicles.”

  “Driving for me?” He blinked. Why couldn’t he think straight while standing in front of her? He really was a buffoon.

  “Not for you personally. For the hospital.” Her chocolate-brown eyes danced. “Unless, of course, you need some sort of chauffeur. Then I’m your gal…well, once I get the hang of driving on the wrong side of the road.”

  “You’re a smart one. I have no doubt about your abilities.” Where had that come from? He barely knew the girl…woman. He needed to get away. She addled his brain. “Welcome to England, Miss Strealer. Glad to have you on board. Please excuse me. I must begin my rounds.” He extended his arm, and she shook his hand. Soft, yet firm, her palm nestled in his. Tingles of electricity shot up to his elbow, and he pulled back as if stung.

  Her smile faltered, and she shrugged. “See you around, Doc.” She trotted down the steps and hurried across the meadow that separated the main house from the cottages and outbuildings.

  Unable to tear away his gaze, he watched until she became a speck at the far end of the property. She been a cute teenager, but Doris Strealer had transformed into a beautiful woman. Beguiling brown eyes set above porcelain cheeks. Her hair gleamed even in the setting sun. He scrubbed at his face. She'd sure changed a lot in ten years, but he had, too.

  No ring graced her left hand. Was it possible she was unmarried? Or did she refrain from wearing jewelry because of her work?

  Ron shook his head. What did he care about her marital status? He was here to win the war against injuries and disease, and the gorgeous Miss Strealer would distract him from his mission. In another time and place, a distraction he would be glad of.

  Chapter Three

  Doris pulled a rag from the back pocket of her coveralls and wiped perspiration from her face. After a week of crummy weather, the sun had risen this morning in a cloudless sky. The brightness was a welcome change, but the temperature in the building was stifling. As of yet, no breeze swept through to cool the space.

  After a final swipe at her face, she pocketed the cloth and shrugged. She’d worked in worse conditions. At least she was performing a job she loved. The other girls in the motor pool were swell, grease monkeys like her. All with similar stories of being unable to find garages that would hire them.

  Several days of practice had given her the confidence to drive the ambulance on the left side of the road. Learning to operate the vehicle from the right seat and shifting with her left hand had been the most difficult challenge. She still periodically reached for the gear stick with the wrong hand and hit the door handle. Fortunately, no one was in the passenger seat to watch her make mistakes.

  Especially the snooty Ron…Dr. McCann. Would she ever think of him that way? She’d seen him a few times from a distance, bringing back memories of crushing on him from across the cafeteria. Despite his arrogant behaviors in school, treating most people with disdain, she’d seen chinks in his armor that revealed an uncertain boy trying to prove his worth.

  She blew out a breath. Puppy love and too many years ago to count.

  “Hey, Doris. You almost finished with that truck? I’ve got to pick up supplies.” Evelyn came around the corner, her uniform pressed and her hair pinned up under her cap. “I promised Nurse…uh…Sister Greene I’d get the stuff back by three o’clock.”

  “Don’t you look slick?” Doris grinned. “You wouldn’t be trying to catch the eye of a certain supply sergeant at the depot, would you?”

/>   Face pink to the roots of her hair, Evelyn fanned herself. “And what if I was? You can’t be jealous. I’ve seen how you eyeball our good doctor when you think no one is looking.”

  “Says you.”

  Evelyn giggled. “And Beatrice. And Maureen. And Lois. And—”

  “All right. Enough of that. I’m just trying to figure him out. We went to high school together. I never figured him for going into medicine. Doesn’t that require compassion? I haven’t seen any evidence of those feelings.”

  “I heard two of the nurses talking. He’d gotten a reputation as a brilliant surgeon. His patients are unconscious. He doesn’t have to show tenderness.”

  “Good point.” Doris pointed at the engine with her wrench. “I have to reconnect the battery, and the vehicle is yours. Shouldn’t take me but a few minutes.” She eyed Evelyn in mock deference. “Stand back. We don’t want you to mess up your outfit for the handsome sergeant.”

  “You’re a peach.”

  She waved the tool. “Yeah, whatever.” Bending over the engine, she hummed the latest Tommy Dorsey number.

  “You’re in a happy mood. What gives?”

  “I’ve only been here for a week, but I feel more at home than…well, at home. I get to work on the vehicles, and no one looks at me weird or acts like my skills are unnatural. In fact, one of the new girls asked me to show her how to replace the solenoid. Felt good to be considered the expert for once, not some girl who is playing at auto mechanics. Doesn’t that make you feel better about yourself?”

  “I guess, although I’ve never worried about what others thought about me. If they’re uncomfortable, it’s their problem.”

  “I’m not sure that I care about what others think, but I applied at more than a dozen garages and service stations. Not one was willing to hire a woman, and they offered outrageous excuses. One guy had the audacity to say it would ruin his reputation as a serious mechanic.” She grunted as she tightened the bolt, then stood back and appraised her work. Perfect. She slammed the hood and tossed the wrench into the metal toolbox with a clang. “Take that, Mr. Misogynistic Mechanic.”

  “Give ’em a break. This war has upended everything we used to know, and women doing men’s jobs isn’t what they’re used to.”

  Doris scoffed. “Maybe they’re afraid we’ll be better than them. Whatever the reason, it’s not fair that society dictates what we can or cannot do. America is provincial in its ideals, don’t you think?”

  “And the class system here in England isn’t?” Evelyn held out her hand. “Gimme the keys. I’ve got to get a move on.”

  “They’re inside the cab.” She stepped away from the truck. “Be careful. With all the rain, the roads seem to have more potholes than usual. I don’t want to have to do an alignment on this baby when you get back.”

  Evelyn snorted. “Liar. There’s nothing you’d like better.”

  “Because the vehicles don’t argue with me. What’s not to like about them?” She gestured toward the doorway. “Off with you, now. Sergeant Steamy is waiting.”

  Giggling, Evelyn climbed into the truck. The engine roared to life, and she drove out of the garage.

  Still smiling, Doris bent in front of her tool kit. Evelyn was a character. A whiz at tune-ups, her petite size enabled her to practically climb into the engine compartment to work. She was never without a smile and usually had an encouraging word for anyone she came into contact with. The only girl in a family of eight kids, she was an intriguing combination of rough-and-tumble and graceful.

  Doris polished each wrench, screwdriver, and pair of pliers before tucking them in place. Just because she was a grease monkey didn’t mean she was sloppy. Putting each item away ensured she could find her tools in a rush, kind of like a doctor with his scalpels during surgery. Ron’s face came to mind, and she shook her head to get rid of the image.

  As if she’d conjured him with her thoughts, he appeared in the doorway, a scowl on his face. “Are you the only driver available? I must get to London. There’s a patient in need of my skills.”

  She gritted her teeth. Great. A two-hour drive with Dr. Difficult.

  j

  Ron pressed his lips together. Two hours trapped in an ambulance with Doris. What on earth would they talk about? With any luck, she’d be willing to make the trip in silence.

  “I’d be happy to find another chauffeur for you, Dr. McCann.” Doris’s voice was void of emotion. “Let me check the schedule.”

  “No need.” He waved his hand. “You’ll do fine.”

  “Give me five minutes to change and sign out a vehicle.” She pointed to a battered ambulance on the far side of the garage. “We’ll take that one. An orderly can load any supplies required for the trip.”

  He held up his black leather satchel. “Everything I need is in here. I’ll wait in the vehicle.”

  A curt nod, then she disappeared around the back of the vehicle. He opened the door and tucked his bag on the floor of the passenger side, then his gaze swept his surroundings. Tires were stacked in one corner. Rubber tubes and metal pieces of various shapes and sizes hung on the wall in what seemed to be a precise order. A metal box stood open on the floor. Inside, each gleaming tool nestled in a slot carved into a slab of wood. What sort of person did that?

  Someone as organized and fastidious about their work implements as he was. Since Doris was the only mechanic in the building, the tool chest must be hers. He shook his head. There was more to her than met the eye. He bent and latched the lid, then grasped the handle and hefted the box onto one of the vacant counters that lined the walls.

  He grunted at the weight of the box. Surely, she didn’t carry this thing on her own. He brushed off his hands and climbed into the front of the ambulance, closing the door with a bang that echoed in the cavernous space.

  Before he could wonder when she would return, Doris yanked open the driver’s side door and slid behind the wheel. Without a glance, she started the engine and pulled out of the building. The vehicle bumped and rocked over the gravel lane that led to the main road.

  From the corner of his eye, he watched her handle the oversized steering wheel, her posture relaxed and confident. With fluid motions, she guided the truck around the dips and holes that littered the macadam. Intent on her task, she seemed oblivious to his presence.

  A mahogany-colored tendril escaped from under her visored cap, and his fingers itched to tuck the strand behind her ear where the curve of her neck disappeared into the collar of her uniform. He blinked. Where had that thought come from? They had a job to do. Nothing more.

  He swallowed, then coughed.

  One hand still on the wheel, she reached behind the seat and pulled out a canteen. “Help yourself.”

  “When did you load this into the vehicle?”

  “This morning. I ensure there’s fresh water in all the ambulances each day.” She shrugged. “Canteens are also checked after each trip.”

  “I never would have thought to do that.” He put the vessel to his lips and drank, the liquid tepid but soothing to his dry throat. “You seem to run a tight operation.”

  A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. “We girls aren’t totally useless, then?”

  “Hey, I—”

  Her laugh filled the cab, and he grinned. “Funny.”

  “I thought so.” She sobered up. “So what made you go into medicine? I thought you were on track to be an accountant or something like that.”

  “I went into college intending to obtain a business degree, but then I took a biology class for my science elective, and I was hooked. The more I learned, the more I wanted to know. In my sophomore year, I changed majors. It’s been a good fit.”

  “Word is you’re brilliant. Any truth to that?”

  “I seem to have a knack for surgery. It’s dangerous to listen to the kudos, too easy to become arrogant.”

  “Where’s the pretentious guy who reprimanded me on the stairs?”
>
  He grinned. “I gave him the day off.”

  She guffawed then covered her mouth with one hand. Her cheeks pinked.

  Ron chuckled. He enjoyed her laugh, full of joy and abandonment. He’d have to figure out a way to make her laugh more often. He liked the way it sounded and how it made him believe there wasn’t a care in the world. “My turn to ask questions. Where did you learn to be an ace mechanic?”

  “My dad.” Her eyes took on a distant look. “When I was around ten years old, Mom dropped off my younger sister Emily and me at his place because she had to go somewhere with my sister Cora. He let me hold the flashlight and hand him tools, probably to keep me out of trouble, but I was fascinated by how the pieces were assembled. I loved seeing him change a broken or rusted piece with a shiny, new replacement.”

  She sighed. “It wasn’t long before I was stopping there every day after school. I picked up a lot just by watching him, but as I got older, he taught me how to do everything from changing the oil to replacing gaskets on the engine block. Mom was less than thrilled at first, but I guess she and Dad finally got used to the idea. Maybe they thought I’d grow out of it.”

  “And now you’re fixing cars in England.”

  “I—”

  In the distance, an airplane engine buzzed, and Ron peeked out the window. The aircraft approached. He squinted into the glare then gulped. On the bottom of each wing was painted the black, crooked cross of the German Luftwaffe. “Stop the ambulance. Get out. It’s a bomber.”

  Doris slammed on the brakes then turned off the engine. She shoved open the door and leapt out.

  Ron jumped out of the ambulance and pointed to the nearest hedgerow.

  The V1 shrieked, its strident whistle shattering the afternoon.

  They raced toward the thicket. She began to lag, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her with him. Eyes wide, she nodded her thanks. They dove underneath the shrubbery. He shielded her with his body, her warmth permeating his shirt.

  Somewhere deep in the woods on the other side of the road, the bomb exploded. The sound of trees snapping and crashing to the forest floor filled the air. The ground beneath them rumbled. Then silence.