Chance walked up looking as if he hadn’t fared any better since they’d parted than she had. His hat was crammed on his head and his aviator sunglasses were in place.
“Good morning,” she offered.
Chance climbed into the driver’s seat. “Mornin’.”
“It came around pretty quickly.”
A grin covered his lips. The one she didn’t see often. “Nights like last night remind me I’m not as young as I used to be.”
“I can understand that,” Ellen mumbled as he started the Jeep and pulled out of the lot.
She looked at Chance’s large, capable hands on the steering wheel and then moved her eyes up to his face to settle on his mouth. She like his full lips that remained far too serious far too often. As he slowed, her attention went to his strong thigh muscles flexing and contracting as he pressed the gas pedal after shifting gears.
He intrigued her, made her want to know more about him, figure out what made him react to her as he did. It wasn’t just his kisses, his air of authority but his devotion to the people he was trying to help that fascinated her. Yet the hurt from the night before wasn’t easy to let go of. There was still an ache behind her heart. No one liked being rejected, especially when they were told it was for their own good.
Ellen peeled an orange that she had taken from the bowl in her hut. Breakfast had been delivered without her request. It was her guess that Chance had seen to it. “Want some?”
“No, thank you.”
“You sure?” She offered a couple of slices, holding them out. “I bet you didn’t eat much for breakfast.”
After shifting gear again, he reached out and took the slices from her.
A shiver of warmth went through her. All it took was one innocent touch and her heart rate jumped. If she was going to keep her promise to herself, she would have to get a handle on her reaction to Chance.
Ellen pulled a slice off the orange and popped it into her mouth, making an effort not to let it show how rattled she was. What she needed to do was focus on something else. “Tell me what you need done to get the paperwork in order.”
“I have to see that everything is turned in on time and in order to the foundation as well as to the government representative. I need help doing what we did last night and an inventory of supplies done regularly. I also need shipments set up. Have papers in order for customs.”
For the next few minutes Chance continued to list different areas where he needed assistance.
“Where’s the paperwork right now?” Ellen threw the orange peel out of the window.
“Most of it is on a table in my hut.”
He was a control freak? Did he think he could do everything? “Have you been seeing to it since the clinic opened?”
“Pretty much, but lately it has been more difficult. The foundation is now required to submit items it didn’t have to in the past. I have to admit I hate doing it as well.”
“But you didn’t plan to ask for help, did you?”
He glanced at her. “I let you help last night, didn’t I?”
Chance had, but she had a feeling that was a rarity. She suspected she should feel honored.
By the time she and Chance arrived at the clinic area there was a line of people waiting.
“I should have come on with the others,” Ellen said as she hopped out of the car. “So many waiting.”
“It doesn’t do them any good if you’re so tired that you don’t know what you’re doing. They’ll be seen. We won’t leave until we do.” Chance grabbed his to-go bag off the backseat.
He sounded like he knew from experience what bone tired meant. As if he’d been there before.
“I just hate the never-ending need here.”
A weary look came over Chance’s face. “I know what you mean. I often wonder if we’ll ever make headway.”
The statement was like a thump to her chest. She would’ve never thought she’d hear that discouraged tone from Chance. The great man who had stood at the podium and proudly shared the work being done in Honduras on behalf of the people. The work the clinic was doing. His voice made him seem demoralized. As if he could give up the effort. Didn’t he see that just being here, his caring was making a real difference in these people’s lives? Marco and his crew were better off just by the pay.
She walked beside him. “But it’s worth it. We do make a difference. I see it in every place we go.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t appear any different when we return. These people need local permanent clinics.”
Was he just tired? She’d never heard him talk like this. “Then why do you keep on doing it?”
“Because no one else is. Where would these people go for help if the clinic wasn’t here? Where would I go?”
A cloud of sadness settled around her. Why did he think he had no other place to go? What had happened to him? Where was his family?
Ellen followed Chance into the tent where the clinic was already in full swing. He took his spot at a table where Karen was prepping a patient for an exam. Peter was doing triage. Ellen joined Michael and went to work.
In the middle of the afternoon a mother brought in a baby who had a cleft palate. He was thin but had bright eyes. Not only his looks suffered from his mouth deformity but his ability to eat had as well. Ellen’s heart went out to the child like it had to no other. The mother also had a three-year-old with her.
Michael lifted the older child onto the table. As he did the mother watched intently. Michael examined the boy and then said to the mother, “You’ll need to clean this area.”
The baby in her arms began to squirm.
“May I hold him?” Ellen asked.
The mother looked unsure but she handed the boy to Ellen.
She looked into the baby’s face. With the right funding and the right people, how many children with cleft palates could be given a better life? Maybe she could get some support from her father and his contacts. Her fear was that in return his demand would be that she return to New York.
Michael said to her, “Chance will see the baby. He handles all the cleft palates.”
Chance looked up when Michael called his name.
“Can you see this little boy now or do you want them to wait?” Michael asked.
“I’ll be ready for him in a second.”
He looked at Ellen, who was speaking baby talk to the child. She was absorbed in the child’s happy but distorted sounds. Motherhood would suit her. She would make a good wife to someone. The idea left a sour taste in his mouth.
His voice was gruff when he said, “Ellen, bring him here and let me have a look.”
She did as he asked.
“Hold him while I check him out.” Chance pulled his stethoscope from around his neck and put the earpieces in place. He leaned close, placing the disk on the child’s chest. The soft smell filled his nostrils. Ellen. Would her scent always remind him of flowers? She’d stopped wearing perfume after he’d explained it wasn’t