“Hah!” Shorter, but just as wiry, Dr. Adams matched Hank step for step, almost down the staircase and just into view of the kitchen doorway. “Don’t think you can flatter me, you young whippersnapper. I just made sure you didn’t die of anything idiotic. You want to thank someone for making sure you’re still in one piece, thank your nurse!”
Making it down the last stair, Hank glanced their way – then stopped. “Wait. Who-?”
“Who do you think?” Dr. Adams snorted. “Will can plow a garden, but I can’t clip those nails of his nearly enough to let him nurse you.”
Hank’s eyes met hers, startled gold. Sharl felt her face burning.
…Were his cheeks pink, too?
“Well!” Mrs. Dowd flung back her shoulders, long skirt rustling. “I never-!”
“You never, hmm?” Dr. Adam’s mustache bristled, gray and black. “I seem to recall asking you and your fine married ladies if they’d come do some charitable work here, more than once. Somehow you never had the time.”
“We have our own veterans to nurse, as you well know.” Mrs. Dowd set her jaw. “Whoever you are, young man-”
“Sergeant-Major Henriette, Ma’am.” Hank stood straight. “Though it may be just Mister by now. I’ll have to check. Things have been a bit up in the air.”
Sharl had to stifle a yip of dismay. Or maybe a snicker, which would be even worse. Mark was young enough to stare, round-eyed, at someone crazy or fearless enough to face Mrs. Dowd and make a joke.
A/N: And NaNo is off! Hopefully by the time this is posted I have more than just some sketchy scene notes….