Lori didn't flinch, but her complexion downgraded from ivory to milky. Noise inside the hangar waned for five heart-stopping seconds, then resumed. Gray glanced around the warehouse and caught the commander's attention two tables over. "Can we step up the pace, Colonel?"
Lt. Col. Zach Dawson's tense nod wasn't reassuring, but Gray had been through worse. Just not with seventy-two children and Lori depending on him.
The next child shuffled forward, clinging to the hand of a soft-figured orphanage worker in a dulled-out white uniform. Gray spun his chair to face her fully and found a little girl, around three or four. Sprigs of hacked, dark hair damp with sweat curled along her round face. With those cropped locks, she'd probably been deloused. Poor kid.
A harsh cough rumbled from the tiny chest as she tucked behind the woman's long skirt. Gray looked up at Lori. He knew when he was out of his league.
She crouched in front of the girl. "Hello—" slowly Lori reached to tap the name tag "—Magda."
Dirty little fists eased their grip on the dress. One wide, dark eye peeked warily, her cough dwindling to a raspy sigh. Lori kept her hand extended and steady.
The older woman mumbled a few words in another language, pried her skirt free and nudged Magda forward. If only they had more time to ease this kid through the exam. But they didn't. Gray stifled the rush of frustration over things he couldn't change.
Lori extended her other hand to the girl. A look of resignation crossed the tiny face. Magda dropped her arms to her sides and waited, helpless.
Lori gasped, the first substantial reaction he'd heard from her all day. Who could blame her? This kid was a heartbreaker.
She stood, small and still, her navy cotton dress a size too big and drooping off one shoulder. A grubby Barbie poked from either end of her clenched grip. Magda met his gaze dead-on, her eyes flat. A living casualty of war.
He'd seen the look too often in his father's eyes, a look cultivated in a Vietnamese POW camp. A look the old man still carried in unguarded moments. Gray had long ago accepted he couldn't heal his father or his family any more than he could fix the real problem for these children. He could only bandage them up and pass them off to true healers like Lori.
Too many emotions churned within Gray. Complicated mishmashes of things he couldn't deal with now, didn't want to wade through ever again. Keep it simple. Give the kid a bandage and a smile. It was all he had to offer.
Lori heard the creak of Gray's chair as he shifted. She wanted to ask for his help with this child whose soulful eyes lashed at emotions already too bare after a draining day.
But she wouldn't. She could handle it on her own. Asking for help had never been her forte, anyway.
Gunfire grumbled outside. Not much time. Lori eased forward, no fast motions, and carefully picked up the little girl. She placed Magda on the gurney, then hitched up to sit beside her.
Gray pulled the stethoscope up to his ears. Magda cringed back. Lori encircled her shoulders and squeezed. "Shhhh. It's okay."
"Yeah, see." Gray held the stethoscope on his own chest.
Magda frowned. He grinned, put it on his forehead, his chin, his nose, like any mischievous kid except for that beard-stubbled jaw. Magda buried her face against Lori's shoulder.
"Ah, playing hard to get are we, little Magpie." Gray held up the stethoscope. "Look. Here's how it's done."
He reached toward Lori and paused, as if waiting for permission. She swallowed and nodded. The disk rested safely in the center of her chest, no accidental brushes. Good.
Except he would hear her heart tap dancing double time.
Heaven help her if he flashed that wicked grin of his her way, because she didn't think she could keep from blushing—or screaming.
He didn't look up.
Worse, his head bowed and he simply listened. Disk pressed against her chest, he listened without moving as if the sound of her racing heart might mean something to him. Lori stared down at that strong neck, his dark hair peeking from the edges of his red bandanna. Boyish, rugged, appealing.
Wrong.
She'd had enough of playing doctor with him for one day. For a lifetime.
Magda's hand untwined from Lori's shirt and inch by tentative inch snuck forward until she touched Gray's bandanna.
He jerked away. Magda winced. The tight lines around his eyes eased, and he tapped his head. "You like this? With that stylish 'do' you're sportin' little one, I can't say I blame you for wanting some head cover. I'd give you mine, Magpie, but it's probably soaked by now." His hand snaked into his thigh pocket. "How about this?"
Tugging free a blue bandanna, he waved it in front of her. Her brown eyes sparkled to life for the first time. Her fingers gripped the Barbie in an excited, tight fist.
Gray folded the fabric into a triangle and draped it over Magda's head. His total focus on his small patient riveted Lori. He knotted the three ends over Magda's butchered hair.