“Stay with me,” Dr.Schneider muttered, tying off the artery.“Chest tube, now.”
The medical student hesitated only slightly before inserting the tube all the way, blood and air hissing through the line as the lung reinflated.The monitor blipped—sats climbing, but the BP still teetered.Olive’s heart pounded, but her hands didn’t falter, passing instruments, adjusting the light, keeping the field clear.“Come on, God,” she whispered under her breath, eyes on the patient’s ashen face, “we really could use a miracle.”
Dr.Schneider worked furiously as she repaired the artery, but the clock was cruel.Every second a risk, every suture a prayer.
Memorial Chapel
Fort Campbell, Kentucky
The faint hum of Sunday morning chatter floated through the chapel as Olive came through the doors and slipped off her coat.The November chill had seeped through her faded teal scrubs, and it felt good to step into the warm and out of the wind.
She made it with five minutes to spare.She honestly didn’t think she would.However, young hero Tommy Davis pulled through in the end, and she would have gladly missed chapel to ensure he received the best post-surgical care she could provide.
Her heart ached for his poor grandparents, for the trauma of their Saturday evening and the stress of waiting for the news of whether Tommy lived or died.He had a long road in front of him, but the glimpse of the family she’d seen in the little surgical waiting room assured her he’d complete the journey.
As she accepted a bulletin from one of the children at the door, she smiled and felt some of the tension of the night dissipate from her neck and shoulders.
She had served at Fort Campbell as her final duty station before leaving the Army six months ago.She’d always intended to return home to Alabama, but had completely fallen in love with the area and decided to stay.
She’d applied to Mobile hospitals to please her parents, but Clarksville Memorial, just over the Kentucky line in Tennessee, had made an offer she couldn’t refuse—better pay, her friends nearby, a drive home short enough for long weekends, and no state income tax.
She might still end up in Alabama one day, but she wouldn’t mind staying here, either.
Instead of seeking a local civilian church off post, she’d kept the Army chapel as her church community.Several friends—also former Army—still attended the chapel instead of a local church, so despite the transient nature of the military, she had a solid community here.
As Olive headed for her usual seat, she glanced at the praise team on the platform, getting ready to start.She waved to her friend Mina, on the drums, as she set her Bible on the chair.
“Hey, stranger,” said Kerri, a wiry blonde who stood a good five inches taller than Olive.She held Jenkins, Mina’s youngest son.“Long night?”
Olive grinned an exaggerated grin and leaned close to the toddler.He had straight black hair like his Korean mom, a round face, and the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen in a baby.“Itwasa long night,” she said in a playful, singsong tone that made Jenkins’ face light up.“Full moon on a Saturday night.Always a good time.”
Jenkins laughed, emitting joy in his special 10-month-old way, and Olive gave him her finger to grip while she looked at Kerri and spoke in a normal tone.“How are you?”
“Good.Trying to get everything ready to host both sets of parents for Thanksgiving.”She looked over Olive’s head and lifted her chin.A second later, Mina’s husband, Chief Warrant Officer Archie Knowles, arrived, wearing his dress uniform.
“Thanks,” he said warmly, scooping a chattering Jenkins from her.
“Any time.Jenkins is our favorite.”
He walked to the front, and Mina slipped out from behind the drum set to meet him at the edge of the platform.Olive felt a familiar tinge of envy at the easy way her friend greeted her husband, at the hand on his shoulder, and the happy look on her face.
She turned her attention back to Kerri.“Both sets, eh?You swore you’d encourage one of them to pick a different holiday.”
Kerri grimaced.“Everyone insisted.And here we are in the middle of such a divisive political season.Dear Olive, what have I done?”
Olive laughed.“You can do it.Four days.”She thought of Kerri’s daughters.“The girls will love all the attention.”
Kerri’s gaze swept over her, lingering on the braid now frizzed and unruly after fourteen grueling hours, then trailing down her scrubs to the toes of her Crocs.“You just getting off?”
“Was supposed to get off at seven, but didn’t walk out of the OR until nine thirty.I figured if I went home first, I’d crash and not make it here.”
“Glad you made it.”
Olive turned to find her seat and barreled into the solid chest of a man.“I’m so sorry,” she said as she stepped back and looked up.He put his hands on her shoulders to steady her.
“No worries.”His voice washed over her, low and deep.His hazel eyes felt familiar, like she should recognize him.
His eyes widened in recognition.“Lieutenant—” he paused as if searching for her name.“Davis?No.What is it?Donut?”
