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“There’s a man selling ice cream. Can we
get one, Aunt Lauren? C’mon, can we?”

Lauren gave herself a mental shake and
grinned at her nephew. “I don’t know, what do you think, Beth? Think it’ll
spoil his dinner?”

Beth laughed and pushed a stroller toward
her. Inside nestled the cutest little baby girl Lauren had ever seen, not that
she had much in the way of experience. Beth had given birth two weeks after
Lauren’s discharge from the Army and homecoming. In fact, Lauren had been with
Beth when she’d gone into labor. Paul had met them at the hospital and Lauren
had graciously moved to the side to let others take center stage, a place she
relinquished willingly. Now the baby squealed and Lauren laughed.

“Apparently Emily wants ice cream too.”

Beth shook her head. “Emily wants something
considerably warmer than ice cream. Come on, let’s find some shade to sit in
and I’ll feed the little bugger.”

Several soldiers swarmed around the cart at
the top of the hill, getting drinks to cool themselves down after the thirsty
work of battle. Lauren knew their presence pulled Ian in that direction just as
much as the thought of an ice-cream cone. She smiled—she wouldn’t say no to
mint chocolate chip right about now. A large oak provided plenty of shade and
several families had already found comfortable spots underneath it.

The mingling of the past and present made
her thoughtful. Weekend warriors of a bygone era mingled freely with kids in
shorts and T-shirts. A teenage girl, obviously in her rebellious phase, sat
with her back to her family, earbuds firmly in place even as she licked a chocolate
ice-cream cone and watched a handsome boy in a too-large gray uniform saunter
past her for the third time. The sight made Lauren smile. Some things never
changed.

Down on the field below several soldiers
stood in a group, looking as if they were having an argument. Ian fidgeted and
pulled on Lauren’s hand.

“How much longer, Aunt Lauren?”

“A few minutes,” she told him, looking at
the long line. Her gaze returned to the group of men in the field, who started
walking away from the hill where she stood, the group still engaged in heated
debate. What could they be so passionate about? Not the outcome of the
battle—that had been written in blood over a century ago.

The sight of the man going down caught her
attention before she heard his pained cry. Twisted ankle? Out of habit, she
glanced around, taking stock, alert and ready should he need medical
assistance. The knot in her belly released as soon as she remembered there were
no enemy hiding behind the bushes here. She could get to him without coming under
fire. The loud sounds of real pain came across the field and Lauren made a
quick decision. She called her instructions over her shoulder to Beth even as
she moved away from the ice-cream line.

“Take Ian. I’m on this.”

Lauren sprinted down the hill, hoping these
play soldiers had the sense to have a good med kit nearby. No one else moved
with her, although the tourists at the top of the hill quieted, their attention
caught by the real-life drama apparently unfolding. The men who’d been walking
together across the field had formed a circle around the injured man and Lauren
pushed her way through them.

A soldier in blue lay clutching his knee,
giving vent to his pain in grunts and groans rather than words. The pants leg
had already been ripped aside and the sun glinted on the white bone that never
should have seen daylight. Blood pumped out of the hole around it in a regular
rhythm and Lauren knew from experience that there wasn’t much time.

“Put the pressure on, stop that blood now.”

No one could mistake the commanding tone in
that voice. Lauren realized the order came from the soldier whose fingers
explored the rest of the leg, checking for other breaks in the bones. His hands
were skillful and knowledgeable as he felt along the leg and moved down to the
injured man’s foot.

The same couldn’t be said for the man who
tried to stop the bleeding. His fingers grew slick with blood as he tried to
wrap his hands around the man’s thigh.

“Dammit, find the femoral artery and choke
it off.”

Lauren shook her head. Obviously the man
had no idea where that was. There wasn’t any time. If she didn’t act soon, the
man would bleed to death. Already his grunts were turning to soft moans. She
knelt and batted the man’s hands away then ripped the fabric all the way up to
the groin. Using her fingers to find the right spot, she pressed down hard with
her thumbs while keeping an eye on the blood flow. Immediately it slowed and,
after a moment, stopped.

She didn’t think the soldier giving
commands even looked up to notice her. The brim of his
kepi
hat shielded
his face so she couldn’t get a good look at him yet she thought this was the
same soldier who had “died” and upset Ian so much. Dead or not, she couldn’t
deny the sureness of his hands as he gently pulled the tissue and muscle back
to peer inside the leg.

“Paramedics that were here had to go out on
another call. Won’t get back for half an hour.”

“Shit, we don’t have a half hour. We need a
chopper. Now.” The kepi-hat soldier barked the order without looking up.

Another voice called out. “I got 9-1-1,
I’ll tell ’em.”

Lauren didn’t look up. Half an hour? This
guy wasn’t going to last half that time if they didn’t get him stabilized. She
held on to the clamped artery with her hands, worried about lasting until the
EMTs arrived.

Blood puddled in the joint where she kept
the pressure steady and threatened to make things slippery. While her hands
weren’t cramping yet, they certainly would be soon. Besides which, the longer
they kept the blood supply cut off, the greater the chance the man would lose
his leg. And all because of one careless misstep into the gopher hole that
gaped beside her, the long grass that covered it now matted with blood.

The soldier who’d been checking out the
wound now sat back on his heels. “It needs to be immobilized. But we’ve got to
get that bleeding stopped first. We can’t wait.” He looked up at the other
soldiers still forming a circle around their comrade. “You and you, hold his
shoulders.” He pointed at the man who had initially tried to stop the flow of
blood and one other. The men nodded and took position where he indicated.

The men followed his orders as if he were
their commanding officer. Yet he was the one who had died within five minutes
of the battle’s beginning, she was sure of that now.

“Take off his gear and lay him down flat.
And one of you get a pulse rate.”

Lauren adjusted her grip as the soldiers
moved the man. They took off his rifle and the white bullet bag as well as a
canteen and some other stuff Lauren didn’t understand the purpose of. Through it
all, not so much as a drop of blood slipped past her fingers.

The man under her hands had gone quiet now
and she saw him shiver even though the sun beat down as if to roast them all.
He was going into shock. She gave an order of her own. “Put your coats over
him. Keep him warm.”

For the first time, the soldier at the
man’s feet looked straight at Lauren. His eyes bored into hers as if taking her
measure. She’d seen the look hundreds of times before. How many times did she
need to prove herself? How many doctors would judge her worthiness? She
returned his gaze, lifting her chin in an unconscious challenge. He gave her a
nod and a warning.

“Keep that pressure up.”

“I’m steady.” Lauren resisted the urge to
shake her head to rid herself of the sudden flashes of other fields, of other
broken legs and arms. IEDs did more damage than gopher holes. She could handle
this.

“Cut the strap on that canteen. Will, hand
me his bedroll and the leather strap he used to hold it on.”

Lauren concentrated on her task but understood
what the soldier intended to do. She nodded her approval, even though he never
looked at her.

“Shouldn’t we put a tourniquet on him to
stop the bleeding?”

She drew a breath to answer, but the
soldier at the man’s feet was faster. “No, let the pros do that. We just need
to keep him from going into shock.

His hands deftly positioned the wool
blanket around the wound. “Hold this,” he instructed a man on his right who
gingerly held the blanket in place. Skillfully winding the straps around the
blanket, the soldier successfully immobilized the leg.

The whirl of the helicopter blades made her
shiver. Lauren would’ve covered her ears against the deafening noise as it
landed on the other side of the field but her hands were occupied. She bent her
head against the wind but didn’t dare close her eyes. Too many memories lurked
not far enough beneath the surface.

The clank of a metal gurney being dropped
beside her made her jump, but she didn’t remove her hands. The man under her
fingers was not out of the woods. He’d lost a lot of blood and would lose more
if she let go. A flash of uniform beside her told her the paramedics had
arrived. The doctor/soldier greeted them with information.

“Good to see you guys. Pulse is…” The
soldier pointed to the man he’d put in charge of getting that information.

“Fifty-six, sir.”

“Broken femur, compound fracture. Bones are
now in place but the femoral artery is compromised. Definitely not entirely
severed, however.”

One of them murmured, “Good work,” as the
two of them set to getting their own data. A blood pressure cuff was placed
around one arm even as the other set out the materials they’d need.

“What about you, miss? How much longer can
you keep up the pressure?”

Lauren was beginning to wonder that
herself. “A few minutes more, I think.”

“Good. Let me get this ready then Josh’ll
put a tourniquet around his leg.”

She nodded, her arms suddenly very tired.

True to his word, the paramedics were ready
in hardly any time at all. The one called Josh applied a pressure-adjustable
tourniquet around the man’s thigh. “Hold on and slowly release when I tell you
to,” he told her. Quickly he tightened the clamp then nodded to Lauren and she
watched for a flow of blood as she released her grip.

But nothing got past the tourniquet and she
stood and backed up, flexing her sore hands and letting the paramedics do their
jobs.

The soldiers moved back, giving the
paramedics the room they needed to work, but when asked, several lifted him
onto the metal frame. They waited patiently as the paramedics strapped their
comrade to the board then helped carry the litter up the hill to the waiting
helicopter.

Lauren watched it all in detached silence.
Someone gave her a wet cloth to wipe the blood off her hands. She used it
without looking, being sure to rub the cloth hard over every surface of her
hands and arms. Concentrating on the spire of the Victorian church she could
see on the other side of the trees helped keep her in the present, but Lauren
knew she would have nightmares tonight.

A police officer came over and asked for
her version of what had happened for the accident report, but Lauren didn’t
have much to say. No, she hadn’t seen him fall, she’d only heard him cry out.
No, she didn’t know his name or the names of any of the other soldiers for that
matter. Yes, she was a trained nurse. No, she did not currently have a job. The
officer didn’t ask why and she didn’t volunteer. How could she ever go back
after what she’d been through?

Through it all she remained very conscious
of the solder/doctor going through the same drill with a different officer. She
couldn’t hear his responses, but his bearing said it all. His broad shoulders
remained square, his strong hands accepted a towel with ease and tossed it into
the red bag with nonchalance. Saving a man’s life was all part of a normal day
for him.

“That was cool, Aunt Lauren. You saved that
man’s life! Beth told me so!”

Ian came bounding up, followed by Beth
pushing the stroller. The baby looked sated and Ian’s face sported the remains
of a chocolate ice-cream cone all over his cheeks. Lauren took the wet wipe
Beth offered and bent down to clean him up, her smile tighter than she wanted
it to be. “Beth exaggerates.”

“Is he gonna be all right? He looked
awfully white when they put him on the stretcher.” He spoke with the authority
of an eight-year-old who thinks he knows everything.

“He’s going to need some blood
transfusions, I suspect. But yes, I think he’s going to be okay.”

“He’s gonna need blood ’cause you’re
wearing a bunch of his.”

Ian’s voice was matter-of-fact, but Lauren
looked down in a panic. He was right, her shirt and shorts were spotted with
bloodstains turning dark in the sunlight. Beth handed her another wipe and
Lauren dabbed at the worst of it, already knowing she’d throw these clothes
away as soon as she possibly could.

Beth handed her another wipe, concern in
her eyes. “What about you?” she prodded. Few knew of the nightmares that
plagued Lauren since her return. Beth, however, was her best friend and Lauren
confided much to her.
Perhaps too much
, she thought now as she saw the
mothering side of her friend come front and center.