In the camp library, he reviewed the medical guide. Cut the clothing away from the wound, stop the bleeding, apply a field dressing. If the medics had been delayed, Clay would have improvised a ring splint. Then after the medics administered a quarter grain of morphine, King could have been transported to the hospital for surgery.

How would Dr. Hill have treated this case? The physician’s kind face came to mind, but Clay shoved aside memories of his former mentor back in Kerrville, Texas. Ellen Hill had destroyed that relationship as well. The doctor’s daughter had only dated Clay to catch the eye of his older brother Adler. She’d caught it, all right.

Did she ever regret that before she died?

Clay shook his head to clear the pain. Movement behind him, and Clay reached for the newspaper at the table’s edge to slide over the book.

It was the librarian, not a Ranger, and Clay relaxed.

Not Miss Mayhew. A petite brunette in a light green suit parked a cart by the rack beside him, where newspapers hung over dowel rods like sheets on Mama’s clothesline. The woman pulled a newspaper off the rack and set it on the bottom shelf of her cart.

Then she spotted Clay and smiled. “Hello, Private Paxton.”

Clay froze. He knew her? Round face, dark eyes, olive complexion, Midwestern accent. Had she transferred from the PX? The mess? He rarely forgot names.

She fingered the curly black hair above her collar, and her smile wavered. “I’m Leah Jones. We met last week on my first day here. I got a haircut and a new outfit.”

She certainly had. Last week Leah Jones looked like a twelve-year-old street urchin in a tent of a dress. Now she looked more grown up, almost grown up enough to be a librarian.

Clay broke out in a grin. “Hello, Miss Jones. Don’t you look nice today?”

Her gaze darted around. “Um, thank you.”

Probably not used to compliments. “How’s the job? Do you like working here?”

“I do.” Her face shone. “I believe in libraries.”

Clay chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “Last week I got the impression you believed in God.”

Leah plucked another newspaper from the rack. “I think God would say he believes in libraries too.”

She had an amusing way of speaking. “Why do you say that?”

“Think about how the Lord loves words. He spoke the universe into being, and he gave us his word both in written form and living form.”

Clay brushed his fingers over the text before him. “Since the Lord knows everything, I reckon that makes him the ultimate library.”

“What a glorious thought.” Leah clutched a newspaper to her chest and gazed over Clay’s head. “Imagine. Even the best-read person on earth knows only a fraction of the information in this library, but the Lord has more knowledge than the Library of Congress.”