Sea Change by Darlene Marshall Page B

recall, I am the person responsible for patching up the wounded. I would just as soon as not have to deal with men injured through violence in addition to those who come to me for accident or illness. Now, hold still, I do not want to jar your arm."
    "Well, it is no wonder you feel that way, Doctor. But I imagine if you were a man you would feel differently."
    Time stood still as the blood froze in Charley's veins. Her ears were ringing and for one mercifully brief moment thought she might swoon. Then common sense asserted itself. Surely Henry Fletcher's remark was only a reflection of her perceived youth, not her sex.
    But when she looked up into his eyes he was watching her carefully.
    "Are you ever going to tell him?"
    "Tell whom what?" she bluffed.
    "Tell my brother that you are a woman."
    She continued wrapping the bandage, knowing that he was watching her. When she finished, she swallowed and looked into those eyes, so similar to his brother's, but a warmer shade of brown.
    "No. I am not going to tell him. Are you going to tell Captain Fletcher?"
    "What, and ruin all this fine entertainment?" Henry joked, but then he got serious. "If he does find out, it will not go well for you. If you need help, Dr. Alcott, you can turn to me."
    Charley looked away, blinking the unmasculine moisture out of her eyes.
    "Thank you, Mr. Fletcher."
    "You do not need to thank me. I owe you my life, Dr. Alcott. What kind of man would I be if I repaid you with betrayal?" He smiled a gentle smile, and Charley thought again on how while Mr. Fletcher may not have his brother's breathtaking good looks, he would not have difficulty attracting his own butterflies.
    "Why are you doing this?" he asked curiously.
    She turned away and washed her hands, and he waited patiently for her to continue.
    "My father was the doctor for our town and the surrounding area. When my mother died it was just easier for him to dress me as a boy and take me with him. As I grew, he discovered I had an interest and aptitude for healing. I think...I think he tried to forget I was Charlotte, and I became 'Charley' in all but reality. He wanted an apprentice, and he had one."
    "Didn't your family say anything?"
    "My parents were estranged from my mother's family because they wanted her to marry better than a country doctor. And my father was an orphan. So it was just the two of us, and the housekeeper and her husband, and it suited us fine. Until my father died."
    "I cannot imagine being without family," Henry said. "They are always there for you--whether you like it or not. David had most of the raising of me, first with our father at sea, and then after his death when David took over the business."
    "It was a mixed blessing," Charley confessed, "being raised as a boy. I never experienced what other young ladies do, and yet I had an education that was unique. I would sit at table when my father's medical friends would come to visit, and the knowledge I picked up was invaluable, especially when combined with my father's teaching."
    "But it is not a natural life for you."
    Charley leaned against the bulkhead and crossed her arms over her chest, a deliberately masculine stance.
    "On the contrary," she said, "for me it is the most natural life. To try and change now into something I am not, something I have no skill at... No, I would rather be Charley Alcott than Charlotte."
    "Except that Charley cannot experience what Charlotte could," Henry said softly. "A home and a family of her own."
    Charley shrugged. "Do you have a dream, Mr. Fletcher?"
    He looked down at his bandaged stump, then back up at her. His face was drawn and tired in the lamplight, and she imagined she looked much the same. She could hear men outside sick bay, one watch heading to its meal while the other went about its business, but her eyes were all on the man in front of her.
    In another setting, she could see herself attracted to someone like Henry Fletcher. He was intelligent and handsome enough, and a