Excerpt of Voice Of An Angel by Becky Lower

"Hello, Max. Welcome back to the land of the living." Her
fingers encircled his wrist and took his pulse.

He remembered, in a sudden rush, where he was and why. "So I
made it through surgery?" His voice croaked, as if he was an
old man.

"Not just one surgery. You were treated in a triage unit in
Afghanistan, set up near where you were hit with shrapnel.
Then, you were flown out to Ramstein Air Base in Germany and
transported to Landstuhl Regional Medical Center, where you
were operated on again. From there, you were flown
stateside. You were kept sedated during all that travel to
lessen the stress on your body. But you’re at the end of
your journey now. You're back in Washington, D.C. You've got
a really strong heart. Even though quite a bit of shrapnel
was removed, you'll live to tell your grandkids about it.”

Max twisted in the bed, and tried to move his legs. His
jerky movements brought the nurse back to his side.

"Take it easy," the woman in scrubs cautioned as she placed
a hand on his shoulder. "You've been through a lot, so it's
natural for the body to need time to recuperate. Just
returning home from Afghanistan would be enough to tire out
most men, even if they’re not injured. Do you need another
cover?”

He was weak as a baby bird, and just as vulnerable. Besides,
the warmth of her hand on his shoulder was comforting—human
contact, after months of living in fear. He did as she bid,
wincing as he moved his arm and placed his own hand over
hers, to keep her near.

"No, no more blankets. You know my name. What's yours?”

"I'm Evelyn, your nurse for the next seven hours.”

"Did you sing to wake me up?”

She smiled. "It must have been in your head. I don't sing.”

"But it was the most beautiful voice, beckoning me to wake
up...almost a siren song.”

She glanced down at him. "Well, however it happened, I'm
glad you're awake. Now, may I have my hand back?”

Reluctantly, he let her go. A blast of cold air hit his body
when she removed her hand from his. She bustled around the
room, checking monitors, straightening sheets, adding a
blanket to his bed. He kept his eyes on her, fighting
against sleep. He feared she was an apparition, and if he
fell asleep again, when he woke, she'd be gone. Just his
luck, to have found his soul mate at last, and not be in any
condition to hit on her.