Heat waves shimmered upward and outward from the blindingly white walls of County Medical Center. Inside their quivering cocoon, the sprawling hospital seemed to shiver unnaturally in the blistering noon sun.

Mary Cason parked her small foreign-make car in the space marked “STAFF,” pausing only long enough to run up the windows. Prudently, she left a small opening at the top to prevent the glass from checking in the fierce heat.

“Not that it wouldn’t be worth wetting the upholstery, just to get a good rain, “she told herself recklessly. “And it isn’t even summer, actually.”

Everything about this Central-Florida city rubbed Mary the wrong way. She didn’t like having to live away from the shore. for one thing. The smell of salt water was far more invigorating than this orange-blossom-laden atmosphere the people here were so lyrical over. Cloying, she considered it.

How much did she owe to the living, how much to the dead? There was only one possible answer for Vicky, not only as a nurse but as the daughter of Dr. Sam Blair…

Emergency Call…

Vicky Blair, R.N., knew her mother would never ask her to give up her job in San Francisco and come home if she didn’t need her desperately. But it was difficult to convince young Dr. Fred Harlan, who wanted her all to himself. It was especially difficult since the trouble at home concerned Vicky’s kid sister, Jean, and the boy she loved, Johnny Rushton. A descendant of one of Rushton City’s oldest and richest families, Johnny had also inherited the family’s streak of mental instability — or so his sister, Cora, wanted everyone to believe. She had a lot of people convinced — including, to Vicky’s disappointment, Fred Harlan. Most important, she had finally convinced Johnny, who had told Jean he could not — would not — see her again. Vicky knew Johnny was not a victim of hereditary madness. She could prove it — in court, if come to that, because the revelation that would “clear” Johnny would dishonor the memory of the finest man she had ever known: her father…

When a small-town nurse and a big-city doctor work side by side there is sure to be conflict…and surprises.

County nurse Beth Mason was young, beautiful, dedicated to her work and deeply in love. Doctor Cary Latham was bored by his patients and resentful that he must spend three years in a backwoods community. Yet they had to work together and the surprising climax to the conflict between them leads to a love story of truly dramatic impact.

She was sworn to professional secrecy — then found the patient she’d been called to nurse was the man she had thought was in love with her!

Linn looked over at the man in the bed. He was lying with his face turned to the wall. He was asleep, she thought, or in pain, because he did not turn his head when they came in.

Dr. Jacoby bent over the bed. “Awake or asleep?” he asked, bending over the patient. “Ah not asleep. I brought your nurse. A pretty girl with a pretty name, Linn. Linn Morgan.”

Linn stood beside Dr. Jacoby, leaned forward and held out her hand. On her face was the smile of welcome, of cheer, the smile that was automatic.

The man lying there turned his head.

Linn stood with her hand still out-stretched, the smile frozen on her lips. She stood paralyzed for the eternity of a moment, aware of Dr. Jacoby’s startled look.

The man in the bed was Ronald Adair!

Dana Brooks decided to sit in the railroad station for a while and watch the people. Her bus out of Syracuse left at a little after two o’clock and it was only a few minutes past one. Then, too, it seemed impossible to get a taxi right now. Perhaps a bit later it would be easier. Anyway, it was fun watching people — especially in railroad stations. She liked to imagine their possible destination — their business and even their families. In Sedgewick she knew everyone and everyone knew her. There were no mysteries and no strangers. If a stranger did happen to appear he didn’t remain one long.

Now right over there was an interesting pair — evidently mother and daughter. The older woman was nervous and unsure while the girl — Dana was certain she was no older than she was herself — looked as if she held the world by the tail. From time to time she urged her mother to relax; but it was evident her advice fell on deaf ears. And a group of college students — boys and girls having a wonderful time just being together. Their laughter brought a smile to more than one face. She wondered about the stout young woman in a much too tight fur jacket trying unsuccessfully to make a small boy quiet down. But the lively youngster ran about inspecting everything and everyone.

A train was called and porters, laden with luggage, hurried through the gates while crowds surged after. The big station began to appear quite empty and Dana considered the possibility of obtaining a cab. Suddenly a tall young man carrying an important-looking brief case dashed through a street door followed by a porter with his bags. He swerved to avoid the stout young woman and immediately sent the small boy sprawling. A howl rent the air and Dana gasped and glared at the hurrying traveler who stopped long enough to yank the lad to his feet while at the same time his hand went into his pocket and came out full of jingling coins which he pressed into the crying youngster’s hands. The noise stopped as if by magic and the young man continued on his way. His amused and very blue eyes met Dana’s indignant brown ones and as he passed he said cynically:

“Don’t worry, sister. He’s all right. Money has miraculous power — to heal the hurts of this world.” He waved in the general direction of the casualty and raced after his vanishing porter.