Anna straightened her back. “Ja, Dr. Stalling.”
“Could you take over for me?”
“Of course, sir.” Anna darted to him.
Stalling handed her the leash.
She glanced at the dog. Its coat was black, except for wisps of brownish gold on its ears and neck, like it was drizzled with caramel. Her pulse quickened. She inched close, doing her best to pretend that she knew how to handle a canine.
“No need to worry, Fräulein Zeller. She won’t bite.” Stalling patted the patient on his shoulder. “And neither will Horst.”
Horst gave a weak smile.
Anna’s shoulder muscles relaxed.
Stalling left and entered the building.
“It’s nice to meet you, Horst,” she said. “I’m Anna.”
“Hallo,” he said. His eyes were dark and motionless. Deep scars covered his brows and cheeks.
“Would you like to continue walking?”
“Ja,” he said, extending his elbow.
Anna clasped his arm and looked at the dog. “Does she have a name?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Dr. Stalling didn’t have much of a chance to introduce us. He saw me in the hallway, and he suggested we go for a walk.”
The dog perked its ears, as if she was listening to the conversation.
Anna tugged the leash. “Okay, girl. Come with us.”
They walked through the garden. The dog, requiring no prompting, heeled close to Anna’s side. Gathering her confidence, she increased the pace and led Horst through a narrow path bordered by evergreens.
“The plants smell good.” He inhaled, raising his nose.
“Juniper bushes.” She glanced to him. “How were you blinded?”
“Shell shrapnel.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Are there any plans for surgery?”
“There’s nothing they can do.”
Anna swallowed. “When will you be going home to your family?”
“I only have a brother, and he’s at the front.”
Her heart sank. She dreaded the thought of his care falling to the government. In the government’s view, vision was considered the most important of the senses, and a blind person was deemed one-hundred-percent disabled. She feared that he, as well as countless other maimed men, would become lost in Germany’s bureaucratic system. She buried her angst and made another lap through the garden.
Pausing near a barren flower bed, the dog nuzzled her leg. She kneeled and stroked its head, the fur tickling her palm. Her anxiety faded. “Let’s trade places.”
She took Horst’s hand and placed it on the dog’s back.
He ran his fingers through its coat.
“Here,” she said, giving him the leash.
