Nursing the Soldier's Heart

“You’re impossible.” Kirsten pressed a button on her keyboard and the nearby printer sprang to life. “I have reports to prepare. These days registered nurses spend more time filling in charts and reports than they spend with patients.”

“I agree with you there.” Jen lifted her own stack of papers and resumed her spot at the desk.

Kirsten grabbed the pages from the printer and pinned the schedule to the bulletin board, then sent an email copy to the nurse’s assistants and LPNs. While she checked the next scheduled doses of medications, she tried not to think of Brady, but the image of his broad shoulders and disarming grin flitted through her mind. Despite his appeal, too many things about him said bad boy. She’d already dealt with one of those, and she didn’t want to repeat the experience. Brady Hewitt was everything she didn’t want in a man.

Chapter Two (#ulink_6b02b34d-4b2f-5d7c-93f4-c2aaa000acd2)

Cora’s roommate still had the TV near full volume when Brady returned to the room. His grandmother continued to sleep. A soft snore accompanied her breathing. How she slept through the noise was a mystery to him. He settled in the nearby chair, put his bag on Cora’s rolling tray and extracted his food. As he opened the containers, the aroma made his stomach growl again. He grabbed the plastic fork and ate with abandon.

He scarfed down the food so fast he forgot to savor it, and he’d forgotten to thank the Lord for his blessings. He put down his fork and bowed his head. Thank You, Lord, for bringing me safely here. Thank You for being with Cora and helping her to recover completely. And thanks for this food.

When Brady raised his head, Cora was sitting up in bed. “Brady, is that you?”

“Gram, you’re awake.” Brady jumped up from the chair, put his food aside and hurried to her bedside. He gave her frail shoulders a big hug. “I finally got your message and came as soon as I could.”

“Let me look at you.” Cora eyed him from head to toe. “You’ve grown up a lot since I last laid eyes on you. The pictures you sent don’t do you justice. You look a lot like your dad.”

Brady merely nodded. He didn’t want to be anything like his dad. Brady hadn’t seen the man in years. He’d made a promise to himself that he would make something of his life, not let his circumstances determine the outcome of his life as his dad had done.

“Why did it take you so long to get here?”

Hoping to avoid answering her question, Brady shoved the cart over to Cora’s bedside. “You want something to eat?”

Cora waved a hand at him. “No, they feed us dinner around five o’clock. Can’t eat another bite.” She peered at the cart. “Is that chocolate cake?”

He chuckled. “I thought you said you couldn’t eat another bite.”

“There’s always room for chocolate.”

Brady slid the cake closer to Cora. “It’s all yours.”

“We can share, but I don’t have a fork.” Cora reached for her call button. “I’ll page the nurse.”

Brady took a deep breath. Would that bring Kirsten their way? Probably not. Registered nurses didn’t usually bring forks to patients. Minutes later, his supposition proved to be true when a petite young blonde scurried into the room.

The young woman surveyed the room. “May I help someone in here?”

“I need a fork, so I can eat this delicious cake. And I want you to meet my grandson, Brady.” Cora waved the young nurse’s aide over. “Brady, meet Kayla. She takes really good care of me.”

“Your grandma is super. Everyone here loves her.” Kayla shook Brady’s hand. “I’m so glad to meet you. Cora talks about you all the time.”

That was the second time he’d heard the same thing today. “Thanks for taking good care of her, Kayla.”

“It’s a pleasure. I’ll be right back with that fork.” Kayla hurried away.

“Seems you have quite a fan club here.”

Cora waved both hands at him. “The nurses here love everyone. They’re so caring, but I still want to get out of here and back into my own place.”

“I’m sure you do.” Brady sat down again as Kayla returned with a fork.

Cora thanked the nurse’s aide, then turned to Brady. “Now you can answer my question.”

“You mean why it took me so long to get here?”

Cora nodded. “I had them calling you every day.”

So that’s why he’d had so many messages. Maybe he’d been a little too hard on Kirsten. “I know. When I retrieved my phone, I heard them all.”

“Retrieved your phone?”

Brady scooted the chair closer to the bed. “I went up to Alaska this past May—”

“Alaska? You never told me.”

Nodding, Brady grimaced. “I know. I haven’t been good about staying in contact with you, and I promise I’ll do better in the future.”

“So why were you there?”

“I hired on as a deckhand on a commercial fishing boat during salmon season. Good pay.” Brady reached over and took Cora’s hand. “Gram, I would’ve been here sooner, but when they called I was in the middle of the sea. I got my messages when I retrieved my phone on the mainland.”

Cora smiled. “I knew something wasn’t right when you didn’t return the calls.”

“I got on the first flight out of Anchorage into Dallas. My pickup truck was there because I’d planned to return to Texas when the summer fishing season was over.”

“And you drove from Dallas today?”

Brady nodded. “Twelve hours.”

“You must be exhausted.”

“But seeing you has made the long trip worth it.”

“And seeing you has made my day, my whole year. I was afraid I would never lay eyes on you again.”

Brady hung his head. He wasn’t good at saying he was sorry, but he was. Cora had aged, and he had to face the fact that the time he had left with her was limited. He’d missed too many years with her. How could he ever make up for that? “I’m here now. So let’s make the most of it.”

“After you got out of the army, I didn’t hear much from you. You wrote a couple of times, but you never told me anything of significance about your life. I prayed for you every day while you were in the army and every day after you got out.”

“Thanks, Gram. Your prayers saved me more than once.” Not only from enemy bombs and bullets, but also from his own self-destructive behavior.

Her prayers had led him to Chaplain Howard, who’d urged Brady to take another look at Christianity. He’d remembered the Bible lessons from his youth and his grandmother’s devotion to God. With the Lord’s help, Brady stopped drinking to excess, misusing women and destroying his life. He’d spent the years since getting out of the army roaming from place to place, trying to find out where he belonged.

As Brady recounted the years since he’d been gone, he recognized the pattern—moving from one place to another, never finding a place to call home. Maybe he was more like his dad than he realized. The army had given him the discipline he’d lacked, and Chaplain Howard had capped that discipline with a moral code, but the army had also contributed to his wanderlust.

Now Brady wondered where the Lord was leading him. Did he belong here? He’d left his grandmother’s house in anger when he’d been barely seventeen, vowing never to return. This was one of the last places he would have picked to settle down, but his grandmother and the challenge of getting a pretty but petulant nurse to like him invited him to stay.

“What are your plans?” Cora peered at him through the large glasses that covered a significant portion of her wrinkled face.