Текст книги "Lovers and Reprisals"

Автор книги: Lori Turner

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

Caleb tried to make his point when he said...

“I will join our parents as soon as I can report to them that you are back at our Samaritan home and all is as it should be.”

Ona held back her remark because this had been a merry-go-round conversation from the moment the doctor’s downgraded her condition from critical, to serious.  Even though she had not been cleared for transfer, Ona’s condition had improved.  She’d been stating this point, explaining to her brother that he should join their parents in the Congo.  Caleb had disagreed, telling her about a proposition he’d made before Noah and their parent’s had left.  Caleb explained, that he wasn’t leaving the city, until Ona had returned to the Samaritan commune, using the willpower and strength of her own two feet.  He wanted to witness her working and directing her philanthropic deed.  Since her body was a long ways off from being healed; her slow progress gave her little ammunition to debate with.  Exhausted, Ona said...

“Caleb...I’m tired.  We’ve talked about this subject about as much as I can tolerate for today.  We can continue this discussion tomorrow.”

Her adopted brother stood firm, when he said...

“My stance won’t be any different, than any other day.  I’m not leaving until I know that you are fine and according to your doctors, that’s still weeks ahead.”

Caleb looked at his wristwatch then he said...

“Did you make that list of errands for me?  When I last talked to mom, she was concerned that the Conclave will revoke your funding if there aren’t any signs indicating that you’ve begun this years project.”

Ona had lost the continuous intravenous fluid, but she still had something the nurses called an INT.  The port allowed them to leave a portion of a catheter in her vein to use whenever they wanted to administer intravenous medication and when it wasn’t being used, the nurse would flush the port with saline, to prevent the blood from clotting in the tube.  Her eyes landed on a desk, then she pointed, using the only appendage that had not been immobilized by a cast.

“The nurse placed it over there.”

Caleb walked over to the desk looking for a piece of paper or a notepad.  Confused, he turned to face Ona.

“Where is it...the only thing that’s over here is an iPad.”

“When I asked for a piece of paper, they told me that this is a paperless facility.”

“Do you mean to say that there isn’t one scrap of paper in this building?”  he rephrased his question.  “Are you saying...that there aren’t any sticky notepads...looseleaf paper, legal pads–there isn’t anything like that in this trillion dollar facility?”

Ona smirked when she said...

“Not even blank paper for a copy machine; because they don’t have any copy machines.”

Caleb picked up the device, turning it from side to side.  He’d never owned one, and he was certain that Ona was just as dumbfounded when it came to how the thing worked.

“Did the nurse put the information on the device for you?”

Ona raised up her one hand, when she said...

“My nurse didn’t want me to get frustrated using one hand, so she offered to type the information on the pad for me.  She said that since I’m the only patient on the unit...she didn’t mind offering her help.  They say that except for my daily procedures, I’m one of the easiest patients they’ve ever cared for on this unit.  I’ve been told that the Delors are a very generous family and that Lucien...that man responsible for me being here–the nurses say that he’s interested in my recovery.”

Caleb didn’t doubt the truth of this statement–especially after meeting her benefactor.  He palmed the iPad in his hand, then he cleared his throat before changing the subject.

“Are your notes clear?  Will I have questions after I read this thing?”

Caleb knew exactly what to say, to redirect his sisters attention.

“The notes are very specific...and it’s exactly what I would have done–if I weren’t in the hospital.”

“Before I came...I got a call from Geff.  He wants to return to help with your project.  Actually, most days–after Noah and I finish our conversations–Geff get’s on the line.  I’ve kept him up to date on your progress from the very beginning.”

Caleb could see by her expression, that this wasn’t the news she’d been itching to hear.

“Ona...he wants to help.”

“No, Caleb...I don’t want that.  Geff–he wants to help but I don’t think accepting his offer is a good idea.”

Caleb had known for a while about Geff, and his intentions.  He’d not been a friend to him, like Noah...but he also thought that Geff would be a good husband for his sister.  On the other hand, Caleb respected Ona’s judgment of character.

“Don’t worry yourself over Geff.  I know what to say to dissuade him.”

Ona couldn’t think of anything good to add.  Caleb wasn’t anything like Noah and she didn’t fully understand the inner workings of his mind.  Also, when it came to Geff, she didn’t want to imagine her brother’s thoughts.

Caleb was heading out the door when he said...

“Can I bring you anything when I come back tomorrow?”

“No...  I have all that I need.”

He looked around the room, and he thought  ‘She has all that she needs and then some’; he kept this thought to himself because so few in the world had as much as the Delors and he still hadn’t come to terms with his sister being in this place.

**********

Lucien stepped off the elevator exactly one hour after Caleb Zelle had left.  After being asked to leave not long after Ona had been transferred to his family’s wing; Lucien had been receiving daily updates informing him about Ona's progress.  He had stayed away out of respect until the nurses informed him that their patient was nothing like her brother. In fact, when Ona had been well enough to hear about the accident, her doctor had credited Lucien's intervention for her being alive.

Lucien passed the nurses station, and he paused to greet her.

"Good morning Rachel."

"Good morning Mr. Delors.  Your timing is perfect.  Her massage therapy is in thirty-minutes."

"Did the flowers arrive?"

Rachel rocked her head to the rear.

"They arrived just as her brother was leaving her room.  He stopped at the desk for a crash course on the use of the iPad."

"Did he see the flowers?"

Rachel shook her head.

"Imagine what he would have said had he seen the flowers.  With only one patient on the floor, I couldn't say that the flowers are for someone else–and he probably wouldn’t have believed that the flowers had come for me."

Rachel was an attractive woman, small boned, and light brown complexioned.  As far as he could see, any man would be foolish not to consider her date worthy.

He said...

“Please don’t take this the wrong way...and I’m not encouraging you to lie but; what makes you think that her brother wouldn’t accept that the flowers had been sent to you?”

She smirked when she said...

“Every last one of those flowers was greenhouse grown, out of season and the arrangement probably cost more than I earn in one week.”  When he didn’t appear persuaded, she added...

“Even if I were dating...most of my pursuits could barely afford the vase.”

He didn’t agree, but he wouldn’t argue the point.  Some people didn’t realize their worth, and Rachel seemed to be one of those people.  The first time he’d met her, Lucien had thought that she was a dead-ringer for a young Vanessa Williams.  Even now, if it weren’t for the difference in their ages, he would swear that she was Vanessa’s doppelgänger but he couldn’t allow this to derail his thoughts.  Sending Ona Zelle a floral arrangement had been a gamble, and Lucien had considered this each passing hour.  In spite of his inner warnings, everyday he'd fought the urge prompting him to send her a truckload of flowers and when he'd decided to risk visiting her, he couldn’t fathom arriving empty handed.

Rachel waved away his cares saying....

"Don't worry Mr. Delors...I understand this situation.  Her brother is a Samaritan but he wasn't born into the Sect.  He was adopted and he has a huge chip on his shoulder."

"Unless his chip concerns Ona’s care, or something that we’ve failed to do...his general annoyance isn’t our concern and I don’t want my staff involved in any acrimonious disputes.  Treat him like a guest.  Whatever he wants...see to it that he get's it.  We don't want to make this ordeal anymore stressful that it already is for her family."

"I agree sir...and don't worry.  I even told him that I’d sent out for a notepad because neither he nor his sister feels comfortable using the iPad."

"That's good Rachel."  He looked at the time, when he said...

"I should probably head down to her room.  I don't want to delay any of her treatments "

"I'll bring down the flowers...and we'll have to think of something to say when her brother arrives.  I can promise you...when he see’s that vase, and then the flowers...Caleb Zelle will have questions and he won’t leave until his curiosity has been satisfied "

"How about we just tell him the truth.  If he’s as stubborn as you nurses have reported, we don’t want to do anything that might lead to dissension."

In this case, Lucien thought that honesty was the best course of action.  He didn't want his staff getting caught in a lie and he didn't want Ona Zelle getting the wrong impression, especially since they hadn't been formally introduced.

Lucien walked the length of the hall, stopping midway.

The door to her room had been left ajar, and he could hear what sounded like the TV news.  He knocked, tapping with his knuckle, and his world changed when he heard her serene voice.

"Come in Rachel...you really needn't knock."

Lucien cleared his throat, creating a masculine gruff sound.  The pitch in tenor established his sex and Ona promptly apologized, correcting herself, not giving her guest one-second to reply

"Oh, I'm sorry.  Is that you Dr. Norma?"

He'd impatiently waited for this day to finally come and now he'd begun to doubt the wisdom in ignoring propriety.  He forged on, because his silence was bordering on rude.

"Miss Zelle...this is Lucien Delors...I don't want to intrude, but would you mind if I come in to visit you?"

The reporter on the news was talking about a drought in another part of the world and when she didn’t respond he imagined that perhaps she’d been listening to the story.  Or maybe her hesitation had been her response.  Perhaps, the silence was her way of answering in the negative.  He'd leaned in, placing his ear near the doorframe.  His concentration had been so intent, he didn’t hear Rachel’s approach when she’d joined him.  She was holding the large vase beautifully arranged with a tasteful grouping of out of season flowers.  The aroma was heavenly.  Rachel whispered....

"She's really modest.  Maybe I should go in first.  She might feel underdressed."

"But wasn't her brother just here not more than an hour ago?"

She rolled her eyes...

"I get your point, but you're preaching to the choir...I know just about as much as you do when it comes to these people."

She winked her eye then spoke loud enough to be heard over the TV.

"Ona...it's just me...Rachel, your nurse.  I'm in the hall with Lucien Delors.  May we come in?"

A few nail biting seconds passed, then finally Ona said...

"Yes.  You both may enter."

Rachel gestured for him to allow her to enter the room first.  When she stepped into the room, the nurse met her patients eyes, and her quick professional assessment told her that all was well, and Ona didn't appear to be in any pain or distress.  Lucien entered the room slowly, standing off to the side.  His eyes took in every facet of her.  He'd read the reports but nothing was like seeing something firsthand.  The large surgical bandage that had covered most of her head; it had been replace with a bandage more than half its size.  He didn't see continuous running IVs or a patient controlled morphine pump.  His eyes were doing their rounds, noticing all the changes, when his thoughts were interrupted by Rachel.

"Aren't these flowers absolutely beautiful."

Ona's attention had been fixed on the man.  She'd never been in the company of any man alone outside of her Sect.  And she'd never seen a man more handsome than this man.  His face was clean shaven and looked as soft and flawless as a newborn babes behind.  He was impeccably dressed in a tailored ash grey designer suit.  Ona wanted to study him more, but after hearing her nurse referring to flowers, she had not noticed the floral extravaganza.

"Oh my!" Was her comment and Ona's remark sparked a chuckle out of her nurse.  Rachel addressed Lucien...

"I guess that means that she likes them."

Lucien said...

"Miss Zelle...I did some research, and I didn't find any information about you not being able to accept flowers as a get well gift. I hope I haven’t offended you in any way–and if I have, please accept my apology and I’ll instruct the nurse to remove them."

Actually, when it came to the Samaritan Sect, the internet had been a hollow hole.  Every article had been written from an outsiders point of view, and the sum of their impressions had been nothing more than inconsequential ramblings.

Ona's lips parted because she didn't know what to say. Samaritan’s were givers and she’d never been on the receiving end.  She nodded, then said...

"Thank you Mr. Delors–and you needn’t concern yourself because you have not offended me.  The flowers are beautiful."

Ona could feel a warmth originating at the base of her neck, spreading up, then fanning out across her cheeks.  She was blushing, so she lowered her eyes to avoid his gaze.  Rachel caught sight of this, then she froze, stunned by this visual portrait.  Her sight volleyed, studiously observing Ona and Lucien with disbelieving eyes.  They appeared to be in another world; a universe where she didn’t exist to them.  But...was she misinterpreting this scene?  Perhaps, their probing eyes, and Ona’s shy aversion was a mixup, misread by her brain.  However, if she was right, then this would be a first for her.  Until now she had never considered that Samaritan women could be attracted to anyone outside of their tight-knit community.  On the other hand–Lucien Delors was a literal heartthrob and she recalled the first day she’d met him in person.  Rachel had dreamed about the man for weeks, and even now, she would force back girlish giggles whenever their paths crossed.  For all that, Rachel had not pegged Ona as the girlish type.  During her recovery, she’d appeared innocent and demure; lacking crucial information pertaining to the real world.  Yet, here she was with cheeks so red, if the force of nature could be bottled, her attraction could fuel a rocket bound for Mars.  In spite of her amazement, Rachel dismissed her musings because she had paved the way for Lucien to visit his guest.  Hence, she’d accomplished her goal, and she was free to return to the nurses station.

When she spoke, she ignored the elephant in the room.

Rachel said...

"I'll leave you two alone, if that's all right with you Ona."

Ona stared at her nurse, but her expression was a duplicitous blur.  On one hand, she looked like she was begging Rachel to stay, then on the other hand, she looked like she didn't know what she wanted.  Of course, this was a no brainer for Rachel.

"If either of you need anything–press the call light."

With that said, the nurse crossed the floor, leaving them to talk alone.

Lucien said...

"Do you mind if I sit?"

"Oh no.  Where are my manners.  Please...sit.  I'm sorry for not offering you a chair."

"You are the patient...you shouldn't worry yourself over manners."

"But, it isn't polite not to be gracious when receiving guest."

He strode across the room, and along the edges of her cast, when her toes wiggled then curled; she could feel the plaster reminding her that both legs were broken.  She was nervous, mesmerize by his manner and there was something grand about his gestures.  His motions demanded a response and he held her, captivated by an emotion she couldn’t rightly define.   Each movement appeared to be finely tuned; almost as if he’d practiced or choreographed each gesticulation or wave of his body.  He walked with a self-assured glide.  He took paces that exuded his masculinity.  Ona felt compelled to watch him, and that made her feel like a butterfly, trapped in a sealed jar.  Safe from predators; all the while, craving a breath of wind beneath wings spread wide in flight.

Lucien chose a chair pushed beneath a desk, then he crossed the floor, placing the chair beside her bed.  He didn’t realize that he’d been ogled.  He adjusted his suit-coat to make himself comfortable before sitting.  While he did this, their eyes met, and an easy smile spread his lips.  She shyly smiled, because his straight white teeth tugged at her lips, demanding some form of acknowledgement.  There were so many wonderful features that made his smile gleam with perfection.  She was staring at him again, and in her head an inner voice reminded her that staring was rude.  But she couldn’t help herself, because in comparison she imagined that to him, she must look like a train-wreck.  Ona lowered her lids, feeling a rush of embarrassment.

She appeared uncomfortable, and Lucien noticed this.  He wanted to put her at ease, so he said...

"So...have they been taking good care of you?"

Her lids popped up.

"Oh yes.  They've been absolutely wonderful.  Everyone."

When the nurses and doctors had emailed reports, giving him updates while Ona recovered; no one reported on her marriage status.  This thought had marched in his mind when he'd seen her on the street and on this occasion his singleminded fascination didn't fail him.  Here he was, wanting to ask her for himself.

Lucien said...

“Good, good.  It’s always nice to hear good things about your staff.”

Ona was curious, so she asked...

“I hope you won’t think that this is an impertinent question but...do you employ the staff on this unit, or are they employed by the hospital?”

His lips curled, framing his entertained expression.

“There isn’t anything indelicate about that inquiry.  As a matter of fact...I believe when this hospital first opened, a reporter asked that very same question.”  His tranquil manner was soothing and his voice was like the grassy knolls that encircled her grandparent’s farm.

Lucien said...

“The medical staff assigned to the Delors hospital wing are technically employed by one of my family’s companies.  The nurses, therapist, and a few of the doctors; they manage our medical care”

Ona couldn’t begin to fathom what this meant, and her thoughts quieted without warning.

Lucien felt the fabric in his closed hand.  The object of question.  The band.  Was she or wasn’t she; that was the question.  He knew so little about her religion and even less about the Creedal band.  He’d considered being blunt, but he didn’t want to risk offending her.  Suddenly, the band felt like the weight of a dumbbell.  Due to the sensitive nature surrounding this topic, he couldn’t just blurt it out.  He wondered how many questions he would have to ask, until the moment presented itself, freeing him to ask the question that concerned him most.

He said...

“Is this your first time being treated in a hospital?”

“Yes.  Praise be to God, I’ve never been sick more than a few days in my entire life.”

“I see.” he said, because her response had not given him the answer he’d been searching for.  He hedged further saying...

“Are you familiar with the care offered at Samaritan hospitals?”

“I’ve never been a patient, but I’ve visited family members.  Our doctor’s are no different from any other doctor.  They attend medical schools.  Actually, medicine is a lifelong mission for Samaritan doctor’s.  You see...we believe in medical as well as spiritual healing.”

“I see.”  He was at a loss again, and Ona noticed his confusion.

“I am not the best person to explain our ways.  Perhaps you should address your questions to the Conclave.”

He sighed, then he waved his hand while shaking his head, when he said...

“No, no; there is no need for that.  I just want to be sure that we aren’t mistakenly neglecting to meet one of your religious needs.  I Just wish that I knew more about your faith...”

“It isn’t a faith Mr. Delors.”  She corrected him, but he needed to make her aware of something before she continued.

“Ona...please, call me Lucien.”

She’d been taken aback; but not in a bad way, because truthfully, she loved the sound of his name but she wasn’t sure if she’d feel comfortable saying it.  In spite of her misgivings, she had to assimilate because her project would bring her face to face with countless Non-Samaritans.

She smiled, then she continued her previous thought.

“Being a Samaritan is a way of life.”

He stared at her confused, then she smiled, saying...

“Think of it this way...  Samaritan’s pledge our entire lives to do good and to be helpful to mankind.  There is no greater deed, than to be of help to the helpless.  We model our lives after our savior...the Lord Jesus Christ.”

And the band; this is the thought that grappled in his brain–how did the band factor in.  But somewhere along the way, they seemed to have gotten off track, and he didn’t know how to politely divert her, getting her back on the topic that bugged him most.  Lucien supposed, if Ona had her way, she would have given him a crash course on what it means to be a Samaritan–but that would have to wait, and he could see a hint of disappointment in Ona’s eyes.  The room rocked with a blaring interruption when Rachel knocked on the door before entering, then she opened the door, pushing a small cart with a bevy of oils, lotions and imported creams.  His thirty-minutes were up and the time had passed to fast for him.

Rachel noticed his disappointment.  She said

"I can delay this session if you'd like"

She began a backwards trot, not giving Lucien or Ona time to process her statement.

"I'll just need to make a quick call to Dr. Stone.  She'd planned a series of test before adjusting to your recovery care plan "

Ona said...

"Please Rachel....that isn't necessary.  My clumsiness has already caused enough problems and I don't want to inconvenience you or the doctors."

Lucien's brow rose, because of her choice in words.

He blurted out

"Do you Remember the events from that day?  The accident that is.

Ona narrowed her eyes trying to ease back the black curtain that shielded that portion of her memory.  Her efforts appeared strange to Lucien but not to Rachel.  Her nurse had seen this before when one of the neurosurgeons' had been conducting one of his assessments.

Rachel said...

“Mr. Delors...I think she's referring to her project and her inability to perform without the assistance of others.”

Now Lucien was really confused and even more so when Rachel filled him in; speaking with a tone that would suggest she'd just completed a course in Samaritan studies.  According to the nurse, Ona had presented a proposal to the Samaritan Conclave, and her project had been approved.  She explained that the project would primarily help the cities children, by using art and animals in a variety of proven therapies.

Rachel looked alternately at both of them, as she tried to explain...

“While I was showing her brother how to operate the iPad, he explained your dilemma and the responsibilities you've tasked him with.  While he gave me a return demonstration he muttered."

Ona smiled then she said...

"He does that.  Mutter that is."

"Well–he was muttering a lot and when I offered to help him, he declined then said that if he needed help, he would find someone in your Sect.  But is that possible....I mean...I didn't think Samaritan's were in to the arts."

Ona confirmed her suspicions.

"No...we aren't...but if I weren't in here, I could have followed my plan–I had it all worked out."

Ona's emotions sagged then deflated.  She hadn't expected to learn that Caleb doubted himself capable to begin her project.  Caleb had suggested that she appeal to the Conclave, asking for an extension but delay could ultimately lead to denial; or worse.  Due to her hospitalization, the council could revoke her project, leaving her idle and forced to join her parents in Africa.  While her thoughts filled with the council and the Conclave, Rachel said...

"Ona...I'm very active at my church and quite frankly, I wished you would have asked me for my help.  Honey, i live in the city and not on a commune.  Most of my friends are either singers, actors or musicians.  Heck...my roommates brother is a sculptor.  Judd Marko...have you heard of him.”

Ona shook her head when she referred to the sculptor, mainly because she felt confused.  Rachel had figuratively let her hair down, referring to her patient using a term of endearment, instead of her legal name.  Actually, from the moment Ona woke, then oriented herself; of all the nurses, Rachel had been the friendliest.

Lucien had heard about the up and rising artist.  He addressed Rachel...

“I don’t mean to be forward, but, if you’re suggesting that you’d like to help Ona...maybe you should go and make a few calls.  Talk to your friends, and confirm which of them would be interested in helping.”

“I’ll do just that.”

Rachel hurried down the hall with purpose.

"Finally...something to occupy my time."

She was the envy of her graduating class, because most of them worked at one of the area city hospitals, and a few had taken positions out of state, while the remainder worked in a number of low paying jobs.  After graduating from nursing school, Rachel had been at the right place at the right time.  It was also one of those 'a friend of a friend' kind of deals.  Rachel's roommate Sahara was close friends with a girl named, Cynthia who just so happen to know Sahara's brother Judd.  Judd had just started dating one of the city’s richest and most eligible bachelorettes; a woman named Fawn Gustafson.  Before Fawn’s father arrived at one of his parties, Judd had stopped by, at the request of Fawn.  She’d introduced him to some of her friends, and when her father arrived, fawn had hurried him out, using the servants entrance.  Judd had not been put off.  He'd lit a cigarette heading for the streets using a narrow alley.  When he stepped between two buildings, he ran headlong into a woman exiting the party.  She'd seen him inside and when he walked in the direction of the street corner to hail a cab, she’d offered him a ride in her limo.  Judd accepted, then he learned her name.  Eliza Pendleton.  She told him that she was on her way to the open house of a new private hospital.  Judd had heard his sister talking incessantly about Rachel, and how she'd been looking for a job.  He’d shamelessly given Eliza his sisters name and number as a contact for Rachel.  He'd further added, that Rachel was pretty and had graduated at the top of her class.  She smiled at the memory, because when Eliza had conducted the interview as a favor to the Delors, she had told him about her conversation with Judd.  Eliza had also told her, that if she was smart, she would take the job.  For most of the year, the Delors wing is empty, and the staff of five nurses are left to perform menial task to keep the wing in readiness; this explained her excitement.  Rachel had agreed with Eliza Pendleton because this was a cream job and the pay was outlandishly generous.  She skirted around the desk, swinging the chair on its wheels to face her.  She was poised to sit, when the elevator chimed.  Her eyes found the displays on the wall.  Atomic clocks with readouts displaying every major timezone in the world; she checked them all.  It wasn't dinner time, and the robotic pharmacy cart wasn’t due to arrive until the next oncoming shift.  Rachel pulled out her seat, and when the person rounded the corner, she nearly peed in her pants.

Caleb’s brain was a swarm of frustrating thoughts, and he wanted to clear his head.  He didn’t want to be blamed for this fiasco but from where he stood, everything was falling apart.  Before arriving at the hospital this morning, he’d known that the stakes were high; too high for him to accomplish the impossible.  And from the moment his feet hit the pavement, leaving the hospital in his rear; he'd done all he could do, and still, his efforts had not been enough.  Frustration strained his face, and he dreaded that he'd be the bearer of bad news.  But before he did his worse, he noticed the nurse seated at the front desk.  Caleb was in is own world of worry, he didn't noticed Rachel's surprised expression.

He greeted her, much like he’d done in the past.

"Good evening Rachel."

"Good evening" she said in a high pitched voice.  Again, Caleb was distracted and he didn’t notice her odd behavior.  He pressed on saying...

"This is a first for me...and I know that I've never visited Ona this late in the past but, well...there is a problem...actually, there are a few problems and these aren't the normal, run of the mill kind of problems."

"Oh no..." her voice sounded flat.  She cared...but she didn't show true emotion.  Her mind was on Ona...and Lucien.  Everyone on the Delors wing knew that Caleb Zelle did not want Lucien visiting his sister.  And here he was...visiting his guest, on a hospital wing that belonged to him.  She had allegiances....and her loyalties had nothing to do with her income or her job.  She really liked Ona, and she truly respected all the Delors and recently, she'd come to know Lucien on a more personal level.  She told herself that she could do this.  She could stave off a catastrophe of epic proportions.

Rachel thought fast, then she said...

"I've lived in this city and I've seen some things that would shame most, and cause others to shutter.  So...not many things are a first for me...and well...you appear to be at a loss.  How can I help?  I wanna help...so, let me"

She was rambling, and she hoped that her sputter sounded helpful instead of insane.

For the first time, Caleb looked at Rachel.  He didn’t glance, like he’d done in the past; this time, he really looked at her.  Good God, he thought to himself; this woman was extremely beautiful.  How had this slipped his notice and he wondered how could he have missed it.  He considered that perhaps over these past few months he’d been consumed with worries concerning Ona and her injuries; given that he’d volunteered for the job.  If that was true, how could he have missed this vision of utter charm.  She had a face that would make angels take notice and sing.  As a young child, he'd seen a movie with Arnold Schwarzenegger and an African American actress.  He couldn't rightly recall her name, but the movie was called ‘Eraser’; that's who this nurse reminded him of.  She looked just as beautiful as that actress in the movies.  Caleb became aware that he was staring at her, when he finally registered what she'd just said.  He recalled hearing the word ‘help’.