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.