Read Hurricane Nurse for Free Online Page B

out in weather like this. Reluctantly, she retraced her steps, unfastened the big lock, slipped the bolt which made safety even surer.
    Even as she cracked the door open, she heard a low moan, followed by a cry that was scarcely less agonized for being muffled. A man and woman stood there, the woman carried in the man's arms.
    Donna couldn't see them very clearly by the light of her flash, but even so, she realized that they were very young, hardly more than children. The girl gave a small animal-like moan of pain and clenched her arm chokingly about her husband's neck. Behind them, the top of a garbage can went flying down the street and hit with a great clang against the palm in front of the school.
    "Please. Oh, please," the boy said. "We're very wet, and my wife—my wife's got to have a doctor right away. She's going to have a baby."
    Donna flung the door wide. She had hesitated only a moment, stunned by the realization that there was no doctor at Flamingo and by the impact of the storm that had been partly shut out by the heavy front doors, but to all three the waiting had seemed long.
    In a firm, authoritative voice, Donna said, "Bring her in here and put her on the cot for the present. There isn't a doctor, but—"
    The young husband's eyes seemed to have sunk back into his head. He followed Donna into her office and laid the girl on the cot the circle of light pointed out. His wife continued to cling. She was sobbing now and trembling. Gently, he unfastened the thin hands, but continued to hold them. "You—you mean there isn't a doctor here? It's too late now to go to a hospital. I was sure— What are we going to do? My wife's about to have a baby, I tell you." He was shouting and his face was pale and strained.
    Donna was as frightened as either of them. She had never expected to have to deliver a baby by herself. Assisting in a well-equipped hospital was a far different thing from carrying the whole responsibility in a place where no such thing had ever been expected. And it was dark—eerily dark. She realized that the hand which held the light was trembling. It wouldn't do to frighten these young people more than they already were. She steadied the flash with her left hand and spoke with a great deal more assurance than she felt. "I'm a nurse. I can take care of things. Suppose you— What's your name, Father?"
    The boy's grin was a grimace which admitted her attempt at humor but found no humor in it. "Jack," he told her. "Jack Hartson."
    She spoke more briskly than she might have if she hadn't been nervous. "Go down the hall to the room where they are singing and ask for Cliff Warrender. He'll know what—" She hadn't thought of Henry Fincher, who certainly knew the school better than anyone else, besides having authority for the use of it. Nor did she now wonder why Cliff's name had been the one that came to her.
    It was Cliff's deep voice that interrupted. "Are you all right, Donna? What can I help with?"
    Now that she had somebody to back her up, her voice trembled a little. "We're probably going to have to deliver a baby here before morning, I think. These cots are too low and—" She drew a long, jagged breath.
    "One of the long tables in a science laboratory?" he suggested.
    She thought of that for a second, then shook her head. "You're thinking of high school. But one of the tables in the cafeteria will be—fine." She hoped it would. She had a sudden picture of the girl dying because she was inept, because she was ignorant, because it was dark. How on earth could she deliver a baby under such circumstances? Once more, she breathed deep to still her inward trembling.
    Cliff's voice sounded assured and calm. "That's just the place. There's hot water there, I'm sure. I'll go get the keys from Fincher and we'll be on our way."
    His way of taking the impending birth for granted, as if a baby were born every day in a dark schoolhouse, had eased her tension. The girl on the cot sneezed, and Donna remembered