The Mechanic & the MD

by Linda Shenton-Matchett

  Her toes curled, and she gaped at him, eyes wide. He was no longer playing. “Uh…thank you.”

  He draped the tendril over her ear then ran his finger along her jawline.

  She shivered at his touch.

  Face angled toward her, he leaned into the jeep and lowered his mouth to hers, his lips warm on hers. He deepened the kiss, and unbidden, her arms snaked around his neck drawing him closer. His musky scent filled her nose. Too soon, he pulled away then pressed a kiss on her forehead and each cheek. “As much as I hate to, we need to return to the hospital. Being late wouldn’t be fair to Dr. Frankel. He works too many hours as it is.”

  “Yes, I understand.” Heart banging against her ribs, she crossed her arms to prevent the offending organ from jumping out of her chest. “I should get back as well.” Her words sounded terse in her ears, and she cringed. Would she have enough time to regain her composure? Or would Sheryl take one look at her and know she’d been kissed?

  His smile sagged, and he tapped the tip of her nose. “Right, let’s get to it, then.” He walked around the jeep and slid behind the wheel. Turning the key, he brought the engine to life.

  They bumped along the broken macadam, and Doris gripped the dashboard to keep from being pitched out of her seat. She peeked at him through her peripheral vision and hunched into herself. Was his wooden expression instigated by her words or her inexperienced kiss?

  j

  Ron’s grip tightened on the steering wheel as he fought for composure. He was perspiring as if he’d run a marathon, and his pulse was at tachycardia rates. Would his foolishness bring on a heart attack? He rubbed his chest and forced himself to take a deep breath.

  What had he been thinking when he kissed Doris? He rolled his eyes. He hadn’t been thinking. At all. He let his emotions get the better of him, and before he knew what was good for him, he’d kissed her. Kissed her for all he was worth.

  Perfect. Now she’d really think he was a jerk. That he’d taken advantage of her. The miracle was that she hadn’t slapped him. Instead, multiple emotions—surprise, embarrassment, regret, and possibly revulsion—washed over her face. Her porcelain face with its smattering of tiny freckles that danced across her nose.

  She cleared her throat, and his gaze shot toward her. She opened her mouth as if to say something but then pressed her lips together. Was she trying to choose the exact words to berate him for his behavior? Maybe he should help her out.

  “Listen—”

  “Ron—”

  “You first.” He patted her shoulder, and she flinched. His heart dropped. Did she fear him?

  “Okay…uh…Why did you kiss me?”

  “What?”

  “I need to know why you kissed me. We’re not dating. In fact, we’re barely friends, bickering more than getting along.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. You’re angry. It won’t happen again.”

  “No, not angry, mostly confused.” She turned so she faced him. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Okay. Can I be honest with you?”

  She pierced him with a steely gaze. “I’d expect nothing less, but does that mean you haven’t been?”

  His face heated. “No, of course not. I may be an excellent surgeon, but I’m completely out of my element with women. With you. You’re beautiful, smart, funny…I get all tied up in knots and nerves when we’re together. I want to make a good impression, but instead I usually put my foot in my mouth.” He cocked his head. “I’m attracted to you. Don’t you feel the electricity between us? You seemed to respond, at least for a moment.”

  “Look, Ron, you’re a nice guy—”

  “Oh, no. Not the 'nice guy' speech.” He braked the jeep and turned off the engine. “Really, you don’t feel something…anything?”

  “Whether I do or not isn’t the point.” She studied her hands as if they were the most interesting things she’d ever seen. “Others might be willing to pursue a relationship during the war, but I’m not. Besides, we can’t even call whatever we’re doing a relationship.”

  He grabbed her hands, and they froze under his palm. “Now, who’s avoiding the question? I deserve to know whether or not you have feelings for me…and not those as a friend or brother. Please. I was honest with you. Can you at least do the same for me?”

  Doris blew out a loud breath and met his eyes. “Fine. Honestly, my emotions for you run the gamut. On our good days, you treat me with respect and make me laugh. You challenge me to think smarter and harder. Then there are the times you belittle my ideas or act like you’re the only one of us who has any brains. I wake up in the morning wanting to see you and talk to you, at the same time dreading which of your personalities has clocked in at work.”

  She shrugged. “There are too many unknowns in my life, the biggest one being whether you or I will live to see another day. Hitler will continue to bomb England until she rolls over or gets the best of him. You’re considering a transfer. If I open my heart, it could get broken, with or without your intending to. I’m not willing to risk that.” She rubbed her forehead. “Can we please just go back to the hospital?”

  “Sure.” His voice was barely above a whisper. Gray clouds rolled across the sky as if God were mourning with him. As soon as he got to the office, he’d call the director and accept the transfer. Doris obviously didn’t want him around, so he’d grant her wish even though his heart shattered at the thought.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Doris guided the ambulance through the debris-filled town of Watford outside London. Young and old, uniformed and civilian worked together clearing rubble off sidewalks and streets. Fortunately, the air raid had been somewhat unsuccessful with most of the bombs falling in the forest and meadows, but an entire block had been decimated, and the small, local hospital was overflowing with injured. Ron agreed to house some of the patients until another solution could be found.

  Ron. His face sprang to mind, and she pushed the image away. She had work to do, and his presence would distract her. If only she could get her heart to cooperate with her mind.

  Dust clung to the air and coated the windshield. If bombs didn’t kill the population, lung ailments from breathing in the particles might do Hitler’s dirty work.

  Sheryl pointed to the detour indicated by hand-painted signs, and Doris nodded. She squeezed the vehicle through the tight lane surrounded by piles of bricks, broken plaster, and shattered wood. Resolute expressions painted every face. The acrid smell of coal filtered through the cracks in the ambulance.

  At the end of the street, an Air Raid Precaution worker motioned for her to turn right. A glance to the left showed a house half-blown away, the other half leaning like a macabre version of the Tower of Pisa. Doris shuddered.

  Ten minutes later, she spotted their destination and pulled into the parking lot, eerily vacant of all but ambulances or military vehicles, a reminder that very few citizens had cars or fuel to fill them. She lined up behind a queue of other ambulances and surveyed the area.

  Despite the annihilation around it, the hospital stood undamaged, no bricks out of place, an oasis in the midst of destruction. A pair of white-coated orderlies carried a stretcher to the back of the lead vehicle. A nurse bent over the patient. She patted the wounded man’s shoulder then stepped away so the workers could climb in and settle the injured man. The driver slammed the hatch, slid behind the wheel, and drove off, leaving space for the line to inch forward.

  Like precision clockwork, eight more orderlies with patients swarmed the next ambulance and fastened the four stretchers in place before rushing into the building for more. A tall, sandy-haired man, with a stethoscope draped around his neck, jogged down the stairs. He carried a sheaf of papers and made his way to the nurse at the curb. Doris’s heart tripped. The doctor was a dead ringer for Ron. Or was it Ron?

  She squinted through the windshield and sighed. Her mother would say she was jumping at shadows.

  “Hey, that
guy could be your Dr. Dreamy. Don’t you think?” Sheryl waved toward the man Doris had been studying.

  “He’s not mine, and you’ve got to stop calling him Dr. Dreamy. One of these days, you’re going to address him like that to his face, and then where will you be?”

  Sheryl giggled. “What’s the harm in letting him know I think he’s a looker? Although, with that ego of his, he doesn’t need any encouragement.”

  “Just change the subject, okay?” Doris accelerated, and the ambulance rolled forward. She braked a short distance from the vehicle in front of her. If she didn’t get Sheryl focused on another topic, they’d spend the entire return trip with her speculating about Ron, and there’d be no way for Doris to get him out of her head.

  “Whatever you say.” Sheryl executed a mock salute then gestured toward a pair of orderlies waiting to load their patient. “What about that guy? He’s cute. With any luck, he’ll be one of ours.”

  “What is with you and ogling at all the men? We’re here to do a job.”

  “Except right now all we’re doing is sitting in a queue waiting, so there’s nothing wrong with me admiring the scenery.” She stroked her jaw. “What about that one? Maybe I should put in a transfer to work here.”

  Doris rolled her eyes. “You’re incorrigible. Will you put in for a transfer each time you get bored with the…uh…scenery?”

  “Nah. I talk a good game, but I like working at Heritage Hall with you and the other gals.” She crossed her arms and slumped against the seat. “I moved a lot when I was growing up. It was hard being new girl on the block every couple of years. Kids are tough on each other, and I got picked on.”

  “Why did you pick the Medical Corps? They can keep moving you around.”

  “Yeah, but they move all of us, and we end up stationed together at some point. Granted, I didn’t think about the transfers when I joined up, but so far, it has worked out. What about you? Why the Red Cross? You’re an ace mechanic. Don’t you have your pick of jobs?”

  “Not at home. Nobody seems to want a female grease monkey. In a weird way, the war has been one of the best things to happen to me. I’ve had opportunities I never would have back in New Hampshire. The job hasn’t been all roses, but I’m doing what I love with people I enjoy.” Doris winked. “Even you.”

  “Hey—”

  “Now’s your chance.” Doris rolled the ambulance forward, now first in line. “Go get ’em, girl.” She spied Ron’s doppelganger still on the sidewalk. “I’ll wait here. You don’t need my assistance.”

  “Thanks.” Sheryl gave her a thumbs-up and jumped out of the vehicle, slamming the door behind her.

  Doris chuckled. The medic was a character and acted like a cat on the prowl, but Doris knew she was all talk. The eight-by-ten glossy of her boyfriend on the wall above her bunk, and the wallet-sized duplicate she carried told a different story. She was crazy in love with her young man. Pretending to be on the lookout for a new guy probably chased away some of her blues and loneliness.

  At least she had someone special. Doris touched her lips. With a bit of encouragement, it seemed she could, too. But she’d blown it when she told Ron she had no feelings. Ron’s downcast eyes and hurt expression were evidence they’d passed the point of no return.

  She studied the doctor who resembled Ron. A good-looking man, to be sure, but his jaw wasn’t as square nor his shoulders as broad. And his hair receded on either side of his forehead. He gestured to something as he spoke to the nurse, and a wedding band glinted in the sun. Doris’s face heated. The man was married. Shame on her for examining him like a choice cut of meat. Forgive me, God.

  The back hatch slammed, rocking the ambulance. Sheryl appeared at the window then opened the door and climbed inside.

  “Don’t you have to stay with the patients?”

  “Nope, one of the nurses here got a forty-eight-hour pass, and we’re giving her a lift. Apparently, her sister lives near our hospital. As a way to return the favor, she offered to ride with the boys.”

  “Excellent.” Doris put the ambulance in gear and drove toward the exit. “It will be nice to have the company on the drive.”

  “Even if I want to talk about Dr. Dreamy.” Sheryl guffawed. “As if you could stop me. Did you get an eyeful of that guy who looks like him? Handsome but not nearly as attractive. Don’t you think?”

  “He’s married.”

  “What?” She whipped her head toward the man who was disappearing into the building then turned to stare at Doris. “How did you…wait…you totally checked him out, didn’t you? You act all high and mighty, but you’re as bad as the rest of us.” She slapped her knee. “Don’t try to deny it. There’s no other way you’d know about his marital status.”

  “Okay, I admit it.” She shrugged. “I couldn’t help it. He was standing right in front of the vehicle.”

  “Yeah, that’s the reason. Good for you. But what I really need the skinny on is you and Dr.—”

  “Don’t say it.”

  “McCann.” Eyes wide in mock confusion, Sheryl grinned. “I was going to say McCann.”

  “Right. And I’m Mrs. Roosevelt.” She nudged her friend’s shoulder. “Get serious. I do want to talk to you about him.”

  Sheryl bolted upright. “Something happened. What happened? I know you went on a picnic. Did he kiss you? He kissed you, didn’t he?”

  “Yes.”

  “I knew it.” Squealing, Sheryl waved her hands in the air. “You’ve been skittish about him for a couple of days. Tell me everything.”

  Doris filled her in about the last two days, talking faster and faster as she recounted the events. It was as if now she had someone to share with, the geyser had let loose. “You see, I ruined it by what I said, so it doesn’t matter how cute or nice he is. I’ve hurt his feelings. There’s no reason for him to pursue a relationship even if we could.”

  “Silly, just apologize. He’ll take you back. He’s got to.”

  “Why?”

  “Well…I don’t know…the two of you would be swell together. That’s why.” She flounced against the seat.

  “I’m not sure I want him to. There’s a war on. What if one of us gets transferred or wounded or killed. I don’t want to start something I can’t finish. Yes, he’s wonderful, and it’s breaking my heart to choose not to see him, but we should be friends, only friends. I’ve got a job to do. He’s got a job to do.”

  “Honey, you can’t wall off yourself from love because it might not work out. What if you turn your back on this, and it could have been the best thing to ever happen to you? You know, except for the fact that you get to work on cars and trucks. That’s cool.”

  “Funny.”

  “I’m a regular riot, aren’t I?” Sheryl batted her eyelashes. “Look, I don’t think there’s much more I can say about this. You know your choices. Personally, I think it would be a shame if you didn’t try to work out things with Dr. Dre—McCann, but it’s not my decision.” She glanced at her watch. “Now, I’m going out with some of the gals tonight, and I want to be at my best, so I’m going to catch some shut-eye. Wake me when we get there.”

  “You’re not going to listen to my side?”

  “Nope.”

  “You really think I’m making a bad choice.”

  “Yep.” She pulled the bill of her cap over her face then crossed her arms and stretched her legs.

  Doris sighed and gripped the wheel as the vehicle bounced over the washboard road. The rhythm mesmerized her. I love him. I love him not. I love him. I love him not.

  Miles passed, and they entered the wrought-iron gate that had somehow been missed during the regular scrap drives. She poked Sheryl then followed the lane to the hospital.

  Sheryl sat up and yawned then wiggled her eyebrows and gave her a sly grin.

  Ron stood on the gravel talking to Sister Greene. He looked up and waved, a crooked smile lighting up his face.

  Doris’s heart melted
. So much for her resolve to stay unencumbered.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Doris tossed the wrench into the metal toolbox with a clank then pulled a rag from her pocket and wiped her hands. It felt good to be back at Heritage Hall after a week away. When she returned from transporting patients from Hatfield House, she found orders assigning her to another hospital for a week. One of their mechanics had fallen ill with appendicitis and a second had been killed in a bombing raid. Some days the war was too close for comfort.

  She rotated her neck to ease the stiffness from being bent over the engine compartment of the ambulance. Nice to get the tune-up finished before the end of her shift which meant no one would have to take over. The other girls had done a great job of covering for her while she was gone, and they hadn’t complained about the longer hours, but she wanted to pull her weight.

  With a nod of satisfaction, she slammed the hood, and the bang reverberated in the cavernous garage. The process of taking out each part, cleaning it or replacing it…some people might find the tasks tedious, but not her. She hummed Tommy Dorsey’s latest song while she put away the rest of her tools and straightened up the workbench. A final swipe at the surface with her rag, and she was done. Brushing the dust off her coveralls, she turned to leave and froze.

  Ron stood about ten feet away, hat in hand.

  Her heart plummeted, and she pressed a hand on her chest. “You startled me. How did I not hear you arrive?”

  He chuckled. “Don’t you know by now that you get lost in your work. You tend to block out the rest of the world when you’re performing surgery on a vehicle. A bit like myself. I appreciate that kind of passion.” He fiddled with the brim of his hat. “May I walk you home…er…back to your barracks? We left things awkwardly, and I don’t want it to be like that with us.”

  Maybe she hadn’t hurt him as badly as she thought. Or maybe he was a great actor. Or maybe he was a kind and gracious man willing to give her a second chance. No matter what the reason, she was glad he’d come around to see her.