Hope Beyond the Waves by Heidi Chiavaroli

Author:Heidi Chiavaroli [Chiavaroli, Heidi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Heidi Chiavaroli

Chapter Thirty

1916

He couldn’t believe she’d made it. Not only to the mainland, but more than halfway to New York.

Harry took Atta’s limp hand and set it in the bowl of lukewarm water at the side of the hospital bed. Her frostbitten fingers hung lifeless and blue.

The Board of Charity had reported Atta’s escape to the law enforcement in Taunton. The sheriff had been conducting his investigation when a man named Robert Lincoln stepped forward, reporting Atta’s plan. Robert Lincoln, her former fiancé. Atta had been about to be married. The man had failed her.

And so had Atta’s father, from the sounds of it. Atta had been found trying to escape with her younger sister—one who bore the ugly marks of a man who beat her.

No wonder Atta had gone to such lengths to escape the island. She hadn’t been simply trying to save herself.

He studied her sleeping face, selfishly glad he could see her again. Today, he was proud to be her doctor. While Nurse Edith had offered to handle Atta’s constant frostbite care, Harry rejected the idea. He felt entirely too responsible for the woman before him. For both her desperation in her escape, and for allowing her to get on the boat when he knew the risks full well. Not to mention the fact that he himself had given her the idea of going to New York.

Atta stirred and her eyes fluttered open. Her hands jerked in the water, creating slight ripples. Her gaze skittered about, and then—slowly—she closed her eyes in undeniable defeat.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get away, Atta.”

The corners of her mouth tightened but her eyes remained closed.

He continued. “Dr. Parker told me about Gertie.”

Her vivid brown gaze found his. Still, she didn’t speak.

“They’re taking her away from him, Atta. They’re finding a new family for her, one that will love her. Dr. Parker said he’ll see to it himself.”

Quivering breaths forced their way from her pale lips. She looked so helpless. So broken.

“Are you going to talk to me?”

She didn’t acknowledge him, and he plunged his hands in the bowl of water alongside hers, massaging her rough, swollen fingers. If he could coax the nerves to life…

Her eyes widened at his touch. She tore her hand from his and put the lifeless fingers to her chest.

“It’ll help the blood circulate. You must keep your hands in the water if you wish to get better.”

After a moment, she obeyed and once again he stroked her fingers. If she lost feeling in them, life would be ten times more difficult for her. She would need help eating, dressing herself, stitching. He rubbed harder, trying to analyze her vacant stare before giving up and wrestling with himself instead.

Everything he thought he knew fell before him like a long trail of dominoes. He’d been so obsessed with his career he hadn’t seen the people inside the skin of his patients. Now, he gazed at Atta again, dark eyelashes fanning closed lids. If there were a loving God, why had

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