Dancing in the Rain by Amanda Harte

him. Keeping her tone light, she said, “I know I’m late, but I had to dance with one of my beaux.” If only that were true!
    The patients chuckled. The doctor did not. “That is not amusing. Now, if you can take time away from your dancing schedule to assist me …” He gestured toward the instrument tray.
    She had to make him understand, and she had to do it quickly. “Actually, Doctor Hollins, I thought perhaps I could convince you to waltz with me.”
    His frown deepened. “Have you taken leave of your senses?” he demanded.
    “I don’t believe so.” She twirled as if she were ending a dance, then looked pointedly at the door. He had to understand.
    “May I have a word with you?” His annoyance was growing.
    “Yes, sir. Perhaps in the hallway.” Without giving him a chance to respond, she left the operating theater. A second later Dwight was next to her, his face suffused with anger.
    “Will you kindly explain what that charade was all about?” Though his fury was palpable, Dwight kept his voice low so that the waiting men would not overhear him.
    There was no time for explanations. Carolyn grabbed Dwight’s hand and began to hurry along the corridor, nodding at the men whose stretchers lined one side. They had been arranged in order of the severity of their wounds. Though Dwight tried to protest, she would not loosen her grip. “There’s a man who can’t wait,” she said as softly as she could.
    “Are you questioning our triage?” he demanded.
    “No, Doctor, I’m not. I think this man’s injury was not apparent when he was brought in.” They had reached the tenth stretcher. Though the other patients were all conscious, this man was not. He was unnaturally pale, and his skin was cold and clammy.
    Dwight reached for the man’s hand, checking his pulse. “He’s in shock.” The words confirmed Carolyn’s fears. Two orderlies were tending to patients at the end of the corridor. “Get this man into the theater now!” Dwight shouted. As he and Carolyn hurried back into the operating room, the frown had disappeared. “That was good thinking, Carolyn,” he said, his voice once more warm with approval. “What I don’t understand is why you didn’t just tell me what was wrong.”
    That was simple. Carolyn had seen what fear did to people, how it could lower defenses that were already dangerously low because of wounds. “It would have upset the men who were waiting for you. They’ll know there’s a problem when they see the new patient brought in, but at least you’ll be there to reassure them.” If she and Dwight had left without an explanation—even one as silly as his need to reprimand her for her frivolity—the men would have imagined disasters far worse than the truth.
    Twelve hours later, Carolyn and Dwight entered the ward to check on the patients who had been in surgery that morning. Though it had been an arduous day, they had been lucky and had lost no patients. Dwight had discovered that the man who had been in shock had internal bleeding, and he had been able to stop it in time. Equally encouraging, though they had been forced to perform several of the amputations they both hated, they had all been successful.
    “Is the doc a good dancer?” The question came from one of the men who had been awaiting surgery when Carolyn had invited Dwight to waltz. Apparently he remembered the ploy Carolyn had used to get Dwight out of the room.
    “No!” Dwight’s response was immediate.
    Carolyn winked at the patient. “The doctor thinks dancing is frivolous. You and I know better.”
    The man winked back. “I’ll bet he’s looking forward to dancing at your wedding.”
    Her wedding. Carolyn still couldn’t form a mental picture of that day. “I wasn’t planning to invite him.”
    “And I wasn’t planning to attend,” Dwight added.
    To her surprise, the patients laughed.
    “Did you hear that, Jake?” one demanded.
    “Sure did, but I don’t believe it.”
    The man named