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“Burns are the worst,” Krissie said sympathetically.
“You’ve seen a lot?”
“Too many.” Another mental image to shove out of the way. “I’m going to check them, okay? Someone needs to look every so often.”
“Will it hurt more?”
“I’ll be as gentle as I can, I promise. Sometimes though, when the air hits a burn, the pain can spike a little.”
Linda bit her lower lip, then nodded. “I get more morphine soon, right?”
“As soon as I can give it to you. I won’t forget.”
“Okay.” She screwed her eyes shut. “God, I can’t believe I was so stupid. But Tommy screamed just as I was starting to pour the fries into the pot.”
“Tommy?”
“My four-year-old. I guess Sally, his older sister, accidentally hit him in the head with a ball…I don’t know. He just screamed, and I jumped.”
“Accidents happen,” Krissie said soothingly. Gently, she opened the woman’s gown and began to ease the huge gauze pad away. “I know you, don’t I?”
“Maybe.” Linda drew a sharp breath. “I was six years behind you in school, but everybody knew you because you were the sheriff’s daughter.”
“That was a curse, I can tell you.”
“I bet. Every bit as bad as being the preacher’s kid, probably.” Linda winced and gasped.
“I’m sorry.” She was even more sorry when she saw the reddened skin beneath the gauze. Widespread blistering had begun. Gently she laid the pad down. “I’m going to get the doctor in, okay? But first let me check whether you’re due for more morphine.”
“God, I hope so! I swear, it’s hurting worse.”
“It probably feels that way. Must be time for another shot.”
It was. She administered the morphine immediately through the IV port, then promised to come back in ten minutes.
Outside Linda’s door, Krissie saw Julie coming down the hall. “Stay with Mrs. Nelson while I get the doctor. Put her on the monitor and watch for shock.”
Julie’s eyes widened a hair. “Got it. What’s going on?”
“The burns are deepening.”
“Oh, no.” Julie’s step quickened, and she entered the room with a squeak of rubbery soles.
Krissie hurried down to the nurses’ station and paged the physician on duty. Of course it was David.
“What’s up?” he asked on the phone.
“We’ve got a burn patient up here. Randolph admitted her with first-degree burns of the abdomen and stomach. I just looked and she’s blistering badly.”
“I’m on my way.”
She couldn’t hold it back then. Closing her eyes, she leaned against the counter while memories washed over her in Technicolor horror. Burns of every kind and description, burns of men, women and children, burns so bad you couldn’t believe the victim still breathed. At its very heart, war burned.
A touch yanked her back from the precipice. She opened her eyes and saw David.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Burns,” she answered. It was all she could say.
His face darkened. “I know. God, do I know. Which room? You stay here if you need to.”
Sympathy from the devil. A crazy thought that just popped into her mind. David Marcus was no devil. No, there were real devils out there.
Gathering herself, she followed him to check on Linda. Julie sat beside the bed, the monitor had been connected, and the patient’s blood pressure, a tad low, was still okay.
David spoke a few words, then leaned over Linda. “Is the morphine helping?”
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