Yankee Surgeon by Elizabeth Gilzean Read Free Book Online

toddle off to bed.”
    Sally had never seen a neater squelch and was sure that Claris hadn ’ t either. Then he was looking at her.
    “Thank you, Staff Nurse. Thanks for everything...”
    It didn ’ t take George ’ s outrageous wink to make Sally realize that she was being handed gratitude, apology and forgiveness all in one bundle. She had a feeling that George would be back later for the post-mortem of what had happened.
    Sally was very glad to have the theater to herself. The nurse from Mary Ward had been sent to supper and with any luck she could go when the other girl came back. She was really too tired and keyed up to be hungry, but breakfast time was still a long time off and her heart sank as she contemplated all that remained to be done. Was it only last night that she had been telling herself that the best thing about night duty was that there was time and peace to do everything properly? A trifle sadly she reminded herself that that was before John B. Tremayne had swung into her orbit.
    She was smiling to herself at the very thought of comparing the tall and handsome surgeon with one of his country ’ s rockets. Perhaps he would be one of those that fizzled out before it reached its destination. Sally didn ’ t think so. She had glimpsed a little of the steely determination that lurked behind his quiet manner. She looked up as footsteps approached and George Brown came through the swinging doors.
    Sally groaned softly. “You haven ’ t come to tell me that you have a real live casualty for surgery, have you?”
    He lowered his body heavily on to one of the stools and echoed her groan. “No, I ’ ve not, and for once I don ’ t mind. Do you know something?” He glared at her as if daring her to dispute his next remark. “I ’ m tired ... dead tired ... whacked to the wide.”
    Sally laughed, but it was a sympathetic sound. “And weren ’ t you the man who was gloating over the fact that he had just had holidays, was so full of energy that he was taking all his friends ’ calls...?”
    George reached across the theater table and ruffled Sally ’ s hair. “Don ’ t rub it in ... that was last night.”
    Sally drew back crossly. “Don ’ t do that. I don ’ t like having my hair messed.”
    He looked at his hand closely and then addressed it. “Five fingers, all the usual lines, flesh, blood, and nerves, sinews, the lot, but obviously you haven ’ t got that American flavor ... what do y ou know!”
    Sally flushed. “So you did see, then?”
    “Enough to guess the rest. What were you two up to anyway?”
    “We were arguing, that ’ s all.”
    “Since when does a mere staff nurse argue with a visiting surgeon?” It wasn ’ t all teasing behind George ’ s voice.
    Sally put another dollop of oil on the forceps she was polishing. “It wasn ’ t quite like that. He was suggesting that surgeons in this country operated more quickly because there wasn ’ t money involved...”
    “Are you sure that ’ s what he said? How come you were talking" about it anyway?”
    Sally thought back carefully. “We weren’t ... not really. Claris was getting in his hair and he was asking how a poor guy coped...” Her lips twitched at the memory. “So I told him ... oh, you know ... giving them all the dirty work and letting them finish off. So it was then he made the crack about utility surgery ... and—”
    “—and you let him have both barrels,” George said slowly. “Well, if you take your Uncle George ’ s advice ... and I know you always treasure my judgment—”
    Sally giggled. “Don ’ t be pompous, George. Let ’ s have it without the fancy wrappings.”
    He pretended to be hurt. “Well, if that ’ s the way you feel about the golden wisdom of my extra years!”
    “It ’ s only two years unless you ’ ve aged overnight... ” Sally was irrepressible.
    “Twenty-eight is much, much more mature than twenty- six... ”
    “Oh, no, it isn’t ... not when there ’ s a difference of