“You’re very fortunate,” she told him. “I don’t often see such localized damage from a car accident. I can stitch this right up.” She retrieved her suture kit from the cabinet and prepared an injection of cocaine. “This might sting a little,” she warned. “But it’ll numb the pain.”
Richard sucked hard through his teeth at the small prick. While she waited for the anaesthetic to take effect, she threaded her needle.
The other man watched her closely as she began to sew. “You seem to know what you’re doing. I expected the doctor would tend to this type of surgery.”
She kept her eyes on her work. The boy’s brow had a messy tear, and the tissue was very thin, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. “I’ve done more than my share of sutures.”
“I haven’t seen you around here before,” he said, leaning back so one elbow rested on the counter beside her. “I thought I knew all the pretty dames hereabouts. Are you from the area?”
“I am,” she said, biting her lip as she finished off the last stitch. “I’m from Petite Côte. But I was… away for a few years.” She clipped the thread, set the needle aside, then reached for a bandage. “There you go. Put some ice on it tonight if you can.”
“Thank you, Nurse,” Richard said weakly, uttering his first words.
He started to get off the table, but his friend put a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to sit back down.
“Hang on a minute, Dickie. The lady and I are having a conversation.”
That’s when Adele noticed the man was missing a few fingers. A war wound, she surmised sadly. So many had been disfigured in some way over there. It was a travesty.
“I’m a sucker for solving little mysteries,” he was saying, his deep brown eyes on Adele. “You say you were away a few years and that you’ve done your share of sutures. Pardon me for prying, but were you overseas?”
“Yes, I was,” she said.
“They were lucky to have you. I expect men would have run toward the enemy, just so they could have a nurse as beautiful as you.”
“Of course not,” she said, her cheeks warm.
He checked his watch. “Listen, I hope this don’t sound too forward, but I’d like to thank you for looking after Dickie here, as well as all those poor boys over there. I’m real impressed. I don’t know one other woman brave enough to do that. So I’m wondering, it’s after five o’clock. Closing time, right? Would you consider letting me buy you dinner at Watson’s Tavern just down the street? Nothing fancy, but it’ll be delicious, I promise.”
Her stomach growled at exactly the wrong time, and she pressed a hand quickly against it. “Oh, I don’t think that’s such a good idea. I don’t even know your name.”
“The name’s Ernie Willoughby,” he said, giving her a broad smile. “At your service.”
“Adele Savard,” she replied, still unsure. He might be polite, but he was still a stranger.
Ernie placed both hands over his heart. “You’re safe with me, Miss Savard. You can ask anyone in this town. They all know me, right, Dickie?”
Dickie gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod.
He patted the boy’s shoulder again. “And Dickie here is looking so much better already. Please allow me to thank you properly.”
How long had it been since she had gone out for supper with anyone? And wasn’t Maman always encouraging her to meet someone new?Adele was twenty-seven, after all. And since Mr. Willoughby had fought overseas, it might be therapeutic to talk with him about the war. To have a normal conversation. Besides, it was early evening and he was inviting her to a nearby, public restaurant. She voted now, for Pete’s sake. She should feel liberated enough to go out to dinner with a man. She took in the wide cut of his navy suit, recognizing good quality, then blinked into his brown eyes and made her decision.
“I’ll be finished here in about a half hour,” she said with a smile.
“Sounds great. I’ll drop Dickie off at home and come back for you then.”
True to his word, Ernie returned for her, and as they walked down the street to Watson’s Tavern, she noted the way so many people greeted him with deference, even stepping off the sidewalk to make room. She’d assumed Ernie was merely a wealthy gentleman looking for conversation, but from the looks of it, he had earned a lot of respect in the community as well.
She’d never been inside Watson’s Tavern before, but she’d walked past it plenty of times since she’d been home. Its original grim, dark exterior had been freshened with a coat of white paint. Ernie opened the door for her, and as she stepped into the dim light of the tavern, she inhaled the most delicious aroma of frying onions.
“What a nice place,” she said. “It smells wonderful.”
“Have you never been in here before? They have a marvellous cook. The owner’s a friend of mine.”
She shook her head. “I’ll be honest. I’ve never even been inside a tavern before.”
“You’re in for a treat, then.”
