Nathan's life seemed always full of love: his love for women, his love of animals, his love of life. Lost were the innocent days when he cried as Fearsome Bill took his last breath. He now had looked into the dying eyes of hundreds of Fearsome Bills, horses that died by artillery fire and skin disorders due to poison gas. Many more injured by barbwire, infections from mud fever, and broken legs. Nathan, desperate to escape the nightmares of war, hungered for a woman's touch.

**************
Being under-staffed, Nathan, against the wishes of his captain, often led his medical team in returning patched-up horses and mules to their supply-line duties, bringing back any injured ones that could walk. They often traveled after dark.

One faint-moon night, dampness in the air, after they had returned some horses to their duties and were gathering the injured ones, including mules, to return them to the hospital, roaring mortar shells exploded nearby.

"Let's move! Let's move!" Nathan shouted, as the team obeyed the command, pulling the animals through the slushy mire as hard as they could. A shell shook the ground, throwing mules, in multiple pieces, into the air. An overturned ambulance and terrified scrambling animals blocked Nathan's view. He felt outside of his body at one point. In slow motion, he floated above it all, men screaming in pain...animal parts soaring up and around him, and the earth pared beneath him.

Another explosion and the hind legs of a horse flew off, leaving Sergeant Kowalski half-pinned under the weight of the animal when it smashed to the ground.

"Ahhhh, my arm!" he screamed."

Corporal Rascus, who was too slow to jump, fell between two horses that tumbled against one another. "Oh, God!" he blurted, before passing out. A zooming piece of metal from an ambulance nearly decapitated its driver as he desperately tried to steer several animals clear.

"I need help over here!" He yelled as he waded through the mud and under falling shells. Several teammates tried to hold their footing while pushing the animals from the rear as the driver continued to pull. Nathan's commands fell silent under the mortar roar. With shrapnel flying, men leaped like frogs on soggy pods, landing face-down in their own blood and shit.

Most of the animals were killed or injured too badly to survive. But they unintentionally acted as a shield for the medical team, so none were lost. Yet, under the cover of darkness, moving, groaning bodies began to crawl about the muddy graveyard. Some of the men who escaped injury began a roll call to see who was alive. The men froze when Nathan didn't answer.

Not wanting to shine a light in case of another attack, all of the men, crawling and walking felt around, pushing aside slimy, stinking mud, and animal guts, searching for Nathan and calling his name. After a few moments of panic, finally, they saw, a few yards off, under a dull lit sky, a still body that lay next to a dead mule. Sergeant Cooley ran to him, with the rest, who could walk, right on his heels.

"Lieutenant!" Cooley shouted, examining him. "He's been hit. I can feel the blood."

"Is he alive?" Bennett asked, dragging a mangled leg.

"Yes."

Under the distant 'brat ta tat' sound of rapid return firing against the enemy, the men scrambled around him and acted as a human stretcher. They struggled through knee-high mud to a nearby soldiers' field hospital where Nathan and his men were treated immediately. Nathan remained unconscious with round-the-clock nursing.

Major Clapton, Nathan's superior and head of the Veterinary hospital, came to check on his condition.

"How is he, Doctor?" he asked.

"He wasn't hit by ammunition," Dr. Farris answered, checking Nathan's pupils.

"He wasn't?"

"No. That gash on the right side of his head appeared to have been made by something hard, perhaps an animal's hoof," he said, joining Major Clapton at the foot of the bed.

"What makes you suspect it was an animal's hoof?"

"We found animal hairs and particles embedded in his wound."

"I see."

"The wound is infected. There's some neurological disorder as well."

Major Clapton sighed heavily. "That doesn't sound good," he said.

"Well, the damage is not that extensive; just temporary."

"How temporary?"

"He'll have limited movement for a while until he regains his balance. And he'll have some problems with speech, blurred vision, headaches, maybe a little dizziness."

"I don't mean to seem skeptical, Doctor, but that sounds pretty serious to me."

"I perfectly understand. Whenever there's the slightest injury to the brain, the situation does seem precarious. But I've dealt with these types of cases before, and believe it or not, patients have recovered."

"But he's been unconscious since he was brought in."

"His pupils react normally to light; and there's no swelling in the brain."

"How long will he have to wear that neck brace?" he asked, nodding towards Nathan.

"It's just a precaution; we apply a neck brace with every head and neck injury;

"...To stabilize the cervical spine-of course," the Major reasoned.

"Exactly."

Major Clapton walked slowly from the bed, with Doctor Farris at his side.

"Well, I have to be getting back to my own hospital duties. You'll let me know immediately if there's any change?"

"Of course, I'll contact you personally."

"Would you, Doctor? He's pretty important to us. Not just a hell of a doctor, but he keeps the younger men's morale up and kind of keeps them on their toes too, if you know what I mean."

"I quite understand. We'll make sure Lieutenant Daniels is well and back with his men as soon as he's able. I promise."

"I appreciate that, Doctor. Good day now."

"Good day, Major."

Back in Sweet Springs, Texas, the shadow of death had already cast its net as nine families learned of loved ones who would not be coming home. Eva and the Korens feared Nathan's being added to that black list after receiving word from his mother about the letter the military had sent her. Sunday was Prayer Day for Nathan and his fallen comrades. The whole town held its breath.

**************

Nathan opened his eyes to a painful white blur. He could hear voices and movement but struggled to make out what they were. Every time he lifted his head, a pain, like a sledgehammer, nailed it back onto the pillow. Going in and out of sleep, he felt something tiny, smooth and cold slip into his mouth. He recognized it...a thermometer. I must be sick, he thought. A soft hand touched his wrist and gently squeezed it for a moment then let go. He opened his eyes, hoping for success this time. A white blur stood in the white blur. A woman in white. A nurse. I must be sick, he thought, squinting at his bright surroundings.

Nurse Johnson was attending him when she noticed he was awake.

"They're blue! I knew it," she blurted.

"What?" Nurse Andrew asked, hurrying to her side.

"Come on, pay up," Johnson said, raising her eyebrows.

"Oh, shoot. And I was so sure they were green," Andrew said, handing Nurse Johnson her winnings.

"Welcome back, handsome," Johnson flirted.

"How do you feel?" asked Nurse Andrew.

Nathan spoke, but his answers were inaudible.

He had opened his eyes after nearly two weeks of lying unconscious. The nurses had been cooing over him like hens in a barn with only one rooster between them. Nurses, Betty Andrew and Sarah Johnson had each attended him. Betting on the color of his eyes became a welcome distraction for the nurses; it eased their minds from the blood and guts they dealt with on a daily bases. Doctor Farris had been summoned. Several nurses left their bed-making to get a glimpse of his beautiful blue eyes; they stepped back as Doctor Farris entered and made his way to Nathan's bed.

"Lieutenant Nathan Daniels," Doctor Farris announced.

"Yes," Nathan answered in a whispery voice.

"Well, you know your name well enough. Do you know where you are?"

"Hos...hospr'ital"

"Yes. Do you remember what happened to bring you here?"

"Ahhhhhh."

"Alright. Just relax. You and your medical team were on your way back to the hospital with injured animals when you were caught in an enemy attack." Nathan tried to raise himself, but the sledgehammer nearly made him black out.

"No. No. Don't move. You've had a serious blow to the head, Lieutenant."

"My...my men..," he struggled to say.

"Some of your men were injured, but none were killed. You were not wounded by fire; you were struck in the head by one of the animal's hooves. Perhaps a mule. We're not sure. You were found unconscious next to a dead one."

Nathan wrinkled his face and gritted his teeth as he tried to speak. "Th - the anmimamals."

"The animals? I'm sorry, they didn't make it." Nathan sighed heavily. "Now you stay still. I don't want you worrying about things you can do nothing about. You're going to need plenty of rest. The nurses here are going to take very good care of you."

The nurses all grinned; one very attractive nurse ran her hands over her curves; another gently bit her lower lip; a few smoothed back their hair, as others made gestures with their eyes. When Dr. Farris threw them an iron stare, they jolted and scattered in all directions back to their various duties.

Three weeks later, Nathan was able to sit up and eat. More and more injured men were coming in and Doctor Farris had written a request for more nurses. A new batch was scheduled in three days. Overworked and exhausted, the nurses were excited for the extra help.

Nathan learned of the whereabouts of his injured men; a few were too injured to return to duty and were sent home. Sergeant Quael lost an eye from flying shrapnel; Kowalski, an arm; Bennett, a leg. Rascus, who was pinned between two horses, suffered broken ribs, collar bone, and a collapsed lung. Several others, including Sergeant Cooley, who had rescued Nathan, had suffered minor injuries and were released to resume their duties. They had visited Nathan many times during his unconscious state and prayed for his recovery.

Days went by fast. It was early in the morning, and he felt a soft hand on his forehead. It turned into a single finger as it slid down his face and settled on the corners of his mouth. Moist lips kissed his cheek; he opened his eyes. He was not dreaming. She pulled her face back and Nathan gasped.

"Margaret!" he said, bewildered. The Duchess flashed her angel brown eyes and smiled.