The Mechanic & the MD

by Linda Shenton-Matchett

  Ron looked over his shoulder. The sky was clear of aircraft, but the acrid smell of smoldering wood clung to the breeze. He coughed and staggered to his feet. He held out his hand to Doris. “Are you all right? That was a close one.”

  Face wan, she nodded then scrambled off the ground. Knocking the dirt from her uniform, she scraped her hair from her eyes. “I’ve lost my hat somewhere.”

  Even disheveled she was beautiful. He smiled. “We should go back to the hospital and report the bombing. Perhaps get one of the orderlies to drive me.”

  Her eyebrow quirked. “Nonsense. Anyone in a five-mile radius knows about the bombing, and I’m perfectly capable of getting you to London.” Her voice shook, and she cleared her throat then lifted her chin. “Time’s wasting. Let’s go.” She strode through the brush toward the ambulance.

  He shook his head. Adrenaline surged through him, and his heart thundered in staccato beats. Surely, Doris felt the same anxiety, yet she’d stalked across the meadow, determined to finish her task. Did she realize how unique she was?

  Chapter Four

  A cacophony of voices mingled with the sound of silverware scraping on china. Doris nibbled at the warm, yeasty roll letting the conversations wash over her. The girls seemed giddy tonight, but the only emotion she could work up was disappointment. She and Ron finished the mission after the bombing without further incident. He’d been solicitous and kind, but the overbearing streak she’d seen seemed to have disappeared. He was almost likable.

  They talked about everything and nothing on the return trip, then she’d billeted at the dispatch facility for the last three days per her agreement. Was the Red Cross so short of women they had to spread workers over multiple locations? Learning two sets of rules under different supervisors wasn’t difficult, but it did make her job a challenge.

  When she arrived this morning to report to Sister Greene, Ron had been conducting rounds in the ward. She’d waved at him across the ballroom-dormitory, but he hadn’t returned the greeting. Had she broken some unspoken code of conduct, or did he regret being nice to her?

  “Doris got to drive him over to London last week. That must have been a nightmare.” Maureen poked her ribs. “You going to give us the skinny?”

  “I’m sorry, what?” Doris blinked and looked at Maureen.

  “What do you think of Dr. McCann? I heard the two of you missed being bombed by a hairsbreadth. Too bad you weren’t able to cozy up in some Anderson shelter.”

  “The Jerry must need cheaters. He missed us by a long shot. Did you find out where he came from? Kind of odd getting attacked by one plane.”

  “Nobody’s talking. Maybe he got lost.” Maureen laid down her fork with a clatter. “What gives? You gonna tell us about Dr. Dreamboat or not?”

  “There’s nothing to tell.”

  “I heard you used to go to school together.”

  Doris tore off a hunk of bread and popped it in her mouth. Chewing slowly, she shook her head.

  Lois giggled. “You’re stalling. I think he’s fantastic. Intelligent and good looking.”

  “Too much of a brooding Mr. Rochester-type for me, girls.” Maureen wiggled her eyebrows. “I’ll take Dr. O’Hare instead.”

  “Been reading Jane Eyre again?” Lois cocked her head.

  “Why not? It’s my favorite. You’ve got to admit I’m right, Doris. While you were gone, he yelled at Amanda for being slow during surgery, then he nearly took my head off yesterday, claiming I’d brought him the wrong supplies.” She frowned. “But I didn’t. Even if I had, he had no call to be so rude.”

  She shrugged. So much for turning the conversation away from the handsome physician. “Look, I barely know him. He was three years ahead of me and did not fraternize with freshmen.”

  “And now?” Lois peered at her.

  “Now what?”

  “You spent hours with him. Certainly, you know a bit more about him.”

  “You’d make a great war correspondent digging for details.” She folded her hands. “Fine. Here’s what I know. He graduated from Dartmouth. A couple of weeks after he finished his residency at Massachusetts General, he got drafted. He has no hobbies as far as I know, but he does like football.” She stuck out her tongue at Maureen. “Satisfied?”

  “Not quite, but the information is a start. One of the new nurses said the other doctors can’t stand him, but their attitude is probably professional jealousy. He is the best, from what I understand. At least that’s what Sister Greene says. She seems to be president of his fan club.”

  “And only member.” Lois snorted a laugh.

  “No need to be mean.” Doris stabbed at a carrot on her plate. “The man has standards. What’s wrong with that? We’re all here to do a job, not make new friends. He’s saved more than his fair share of young men from death and dismemberment in the short time I’ve been here. I’d say that counts for a little respect. And if he’s not the warmest of human beings, so be it.”

  “Oooh, you’re defending him. There must be something going on.”

  “Stop being a knucklehead, Maureen.” Doris shook her head and continued to poke at her food. She’d never let the abrasive girl know she’d hit a nerve. Why did Ron have to be so attractive on the outside yet not so much on the inside? There had been a glimmer of niceness during the trip, yet the girls made it sound like he’d been an ogre while she was away. Good thing she didn’t have to work with him on a regular basis. She’d stay in the garage with vehicles that weren’t nearly as difficult to understand.

  j

  Ron whistled Glenn Miller’s "That Old Black Magic" and tapped on the steering wheel in rhythm to the music. The day dawned damp and gloomy, but blue sky began to peek from amid the gray clouds. Meeting in London with other Army Medical Corps hospital directors had been stimulating and encouraging. The opportunity to spend time with other professionals in the industry to debate the pros and cons of new advances made up for the drudgery of running the facility that required the submission of endless forms and reports.

  He glanced out the window and slowed the jeep to enjoy the picturesque sight of a cluster of farm buildings and cows grazing in the distance. Unfamiliar birdsong emanated from the copse of trees along the road. Lush and green, the meadow to his left was perfect for a picnic.

  Doris’s face sprang to mind, and he sighed. He hadn’t spoken to her since her return from dispatch. Sure, their jobs kept them both busy, but she wasn’t at lunch or dinner the day before he left. Did engine repair and maintenance take so long that she didn’t have time for meals? He stroked the seat next to him. Had she done the work on this jeep?

  Perhaps he should thank her. He grinned. Giving her a compliment was sure to confuse her. Thus far, their interaction had been a combination of meandering down memory lane and debating some social issue. High spirited and feisty, she was an intelligent partner to spar with. His stomach rumbled, and he accelerated the vehicle. If he hurried, he could catch her before dinner started.

  Throat dry, he coughed then snapped his fingers and reached behind the seat. Ah, there it is. His hand wrapped around the canteen, and he pulled out the vessel. Shaking it, he smiled. Full, thanks to Doris. He unscrewed the lid and took a long draft. Who knew tepid water from a metal canister could revive a man?

  The scenery whizzed past as he zipped down the road. He downshifted around a curve then sped up again like a horse who knows the barn isn’t far. Since when did he know anything about farm animals? Sure, Dartmouth College sat on the banks of the Connecticut River in rural New Hampshire, but he’d not wandered the granite hills enough to familiarize himself with the agrarian society surrounding the school. Competition to graduate with honors was fierce, leaving no time for leisure activities.

  The earthy smell of freshly turned soil and manure peppered the air. He wrinkled his nose. The antiseptic aroma of bleach was more to his liking. Crisp. Clean. Much better.

  Ron glanced at his watch. Another four or f
ive miles to go. A long but easy trip. Another swig of water, then he closed the cap and tucked the canteen between the seats.

  A gasp, then a moan from the engine, then nothing. Not a sound from under the hood. The gauge claimed he had a quarter tank of fuel, so he’d not been stupid enough to run out of gas. He steered the jeep to the side of the road and twisted the key in the ignition. Off. On. Off. On.

  Silence.

  With a growl, he slammed his palms on the dashboard. He shoved open the door and crawled out. Standing beside the traitorous vehicle, he rubbed his jaw and frowned. What he knew about motors fit on a dust speck. Should he try to diagnose the problem or start walking in order to get back before dark?

  He popped the hood and looked inside the engine compartment. Wires snaked between the parts. Memories of the few times his father had tried to teach him the basics of auto mechanics flooded his mind. Thinking the skills unnecessary, Ron hadn’t bothered to pay close attention. He raked his fingers through his hair then touched the cap on the radiator burning his fingers. Idiot. Of course the components were hot.

  “Face it, McCann, you’re out of your league here and hiking back to the hospital.” He blew out a breath then ducked into the jeep for his satchel and grabbed the canteen. Would Doris be angry that he removed it from the vehicle? He frowned. What did her mood matter? She was at fault for the dead jeep.

  “Hey, there! Everything okay?”

  Still inside the jeep, he’d know her voice anywhere. What was Doris doing out and about? He left the items in the vehicle and turned.

  Doris braked the red-and-white Hiawatha bicycle and gaped at him. “Ron…er…Dr. McCann…is there a problem?”

  “No, I’d had enough driving, so I thought I’d walk the rest of the trip, stretch my legs.”

  Her face reddened, and she dismounted without a word.

  He flinched. His frustration didn’t warrant incivility. Why did her presence often bring out the rough side of his tongue?

  She laid the bike on its side then sauntered to the front of the jeep and leaned inside the engine compartment.

  Did she have no sense of urgency? He watched as she checked connections, a look of concentration on her face. After several minutes, she shook her head and grabbed a small metal box from the back of the jeep. Of course she kept tools in each of the vehicles. Not that he would have known what to do with them. “What’s wrong with the vehicle? Do you think you can fix the problem?

  “I’m not sure and probably.” She popped open the box and withdrew a flashlight that she handed to him. “Make yourself useful, and shine this where I tell you to.” Grabbing a couple of wrenches and a screwdriver, she returned to the engine. “Are you coming?”

  He’d been caught staring. “Yes, sorry.” He hurried toward her and clicked on the light. “Ready.”

  “Good.” She climbed onto the bumper and reached deep into the engine. After a few grunts, she waved the wrench. “Try it now.”

  He trotted to the driver’s side and turned the key. The engine sputtered then roared to life. He grinned. She was a lifesaver.

  She jumped to the ground and closed the hood with a bang then tossed the tools into the metal box. She brushed off her hands then picked up the box and returned it to the jeep. “You shouldn’t have any more problems.” Uprighting her bike, she gripped the handlebars.

  “I…uh…thank you.”

  Touching two fingers to her forehead in mock salute, she shrugged. “You’re welcome. When I get back, I’ll give the vehicle a once-over. See if I can’t prevent this from happening again.”

  “You’re very proficient at this. Smart, too. Don’t you want to be more than a mechanic? You could be a nurse or a teacher or anything you wanted.”

  Her face darkened. “Because only dumb people are interested in cars, Doctor? I see you haven’t changed since high school. Still judging people and thinking you’re better than everyone else. For your information, I can’t be anything I want because men hold all the cards in employment. Women are doing men’s work now, but we will be expected to shuffle home quietly when the boys return.” She hopped on the bike and pedaled away.

  Ron sighed. Even in slacks with smudges on her face, she’s feminine, but why does she enjoy doing masculine work? If they were married, he’d never let her hold such a job. A vision of Doris standing in front of a stove wearing coveralls flashed into his head, and he chuckled. She was getting under his skin, and that was a problem.

  Chapter Five

  In the growing darkness, Doris peered at her watch. Her stomach complained, confirming that she’d missed dinner because of having to pick up Dr. Difficult from the train station after his trip to Liverpool. An awkward silence permeated the journey, and she pressed her lips together to prevent saying something she might regret later. Ron made it clear he was in no mood for conversation, speaking in clipped sentences when she asked how his patients were faring.

  Should she try to get another assignment? She was tired of walking on eggshells for the man. No. He would not win this competition. She huffed out a sigh, and he glanced at her, eyebrows raised in question.

  The jeep did its typical shimmy and bumping along the road, jostling her into Ron’s shoulder. “Sorry. She righted her uniform cap and took a tighter grip on the steering wheel.

  “Do you have to hit every crevice in the street?”

  “Actually, I’ve managed to miss a few.” She let sarcasm infiltrate her words. “But I’d be happy to let you drive, if you’d prefer, Dr. McCann.”

  “We’re almost there.”

  “Otherwise, you’d take over?”

  “Look—”

  An air raid siren wailed, its strident tones carrying across the rolling hills from the hospital. A chill swept over Doris. Only a few days had passed since the last incident. Bombing raids were discussed at length during her orientation, but she’d been foolish enough to believe she could handle the Jerries and their air assaults. Her gaze shot to Ron. “Would you like me to try to make it to the hospital?”

  He leaned out the window. “Yes, its cellar is our best chance for safe shelter.”

  She clenched the wheel and pressed the accelerator. The jeep bucked like an unbroken horse and bounced through a deep hole, lifting her from the seat. Her breath hitched. Get hold of yourself, girl. The doctor would not be impressed if you panicked. God, please keep us safe. She peered through the windshield. Nothing. Then the familiar buzz of approaching planes sounded in the distance.

  Tiny black specks appeared in the sky. A squadron, rather than a one-off like last time. The number of planes didn’t bode well. What was their target? She slammed her foot on the brake and doused the headlights. “I’m not taking any chances the pilots can see us, even from that height.”

  “Agreed. We should make a run for it.” Ron picked up his doctor’s bag and pushed open the door. “Under the trees or in the culvert?”

  “Culvert.” She killed the engine and jumped from the vehicle. Clamping her hand on her hat, she dashed toward the earthen channel that lined the road.

  He grabbed her hand and dragged her away from the vehicle. “In case they can see us, we shouldn’t hide near the jeep.”

  They ran about thirty yards down the road. The whining whistle of the bomb pierced the air, and he pushed her into the trench.

  Doris stumbled and rolled into the bottom with a grunt. She curled into a ball and covered her head with her arms. Ron curved his frame over hers as he had done during last week’s event. His warm closeness sent tingles snaking up her spine. What was wrong with her? They could be dead in the next minute, yet her traitorous body betrayed her with its response. She squeezed her eyes closed. “Please, God, let the Jerries miss us and anyone else they might be aiming for. The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want. He—”

  “…leadeth me beside the still waters.” Ron’s baritone voice joined hers.

  Her eyes shot open. His face was inches from hers, and she sea
rched his face in the dimness. “Since when do you quote Scripture?”

  “Since I turned my life over to God at university.” A smile quirked the corner of his mouth. “Surprised, are you?”

  “Yeah, I guess so. You’re so confident about your abilities, I…uh…” She dropped her gaze.

  “You mean arrogant.” He sighed. “Even as a believer I struggle with pride. Medicine comes easy for me, which gives me self-assurance. The attitude often is perceived as hubris.”

  “Maybe, but right now I appreciate your certainty. Those planes are terrifying, yet you seem unaffected by them.”

  “Appearances can be deceiving, but in this case, I think we’re safe. Their trajectory is wrong for the hospital. Unfortunately, the fleet may be heading to the munitions factory. We must pray the enemy misses their target, whatever it may be.”

  “Please, God,” Doris whispered.

  The airplanes’ hum faded, then a series of muffled explosions resonated in the blackness. Ron’s eyes closed for a brief moment, sorrow etched on his face. With a sigh, he crawled off her, then rose. Even though the day’s heat clung to the night air, the absence of his form chilled her.

  He grasped her hand and pulled her to her feet then wrapped his arm around her shoulder and led her out of the gully. “We’re safe now. Let’s get to the hospital. Perhaps by the time we arrive, reports about the bombing will be available.”

  She trembled at his touch as they picked their way to the jeep.

  “Are you cold?”

  “No, still a bit wobbly.” Good thing he couldn’t see her face. Beet red, if the amount of heat she felt was an indicator. He’d also see she was lying.

  He pulled her closer. “Of course. You were very brave.”

  Doris shook her head. “Maybe on the outside…” But definitely not on the inside. They climbed into the vehicle and were soon on their way. The earlier discomfort between them was gone. She shook her head. Apparently, life-threatening events were necessary to building their friendship. “You told me why you got into medicine, but why do you stay in it? What do you love about the field?”