"All right. But on one condition. Why did you come up here in the first place? You knew the area was hot."
"I—I lost my head," the nurse said promptly. "My emotions ran away with me. I'm a nurse and wounded men needed my attention. I went to them. You will come down the trail with us, won't you?" The violet eyes begged him to believe in her.
"What made you lose your head?"
"Why—shock, I suppose. This is the first time I was bombed. Also, the screaming of the wounded. Really, sir, I am a nurse." The way she said the word, being a nurse meant something. The violet eyes had grown tired of begging and were on the verge of spitting anger at him.
"I don't believe a damned word you have said," Zen said. "You didn't lose your head back there in the prospect hole."
"Please, Kurt." Again she rugged at his arm. "I'll talk to you all you want down below. But don't try to force me to stay here."
Reluctantly, Zen yielded to the pressure on his arm. Relief appeared in the violet eyes and the face of the craggy man showed a sudden release from some inner strain. Dimly, he thought he had seen that craggy face somewhere before but the picture that flicked through his mind was gone before he could fit a time and place tag on it. Going down the trail, he steered the nurse toward a truck where the medics had set up equipment to test the amount of exposure to radiation. In doing this, he discovered that she was steering him in the same direction.
"I don't need the medics," he protested. "I'm all right. I wasn't exposed long enough to do any damage."
"Of course you're all right," she answered. Her tone was similar to that of an indulgent mother reassuring a hurt child.
"You're the one who needs help," he said. He was certain she had remained too long.