A Nurse for Daniel

by Marlene Bierworth

The look he shot her way was not complimentary.

  “Did you expect a miracle awakening?” he asked.

  “I have no expectations. I merely asked. It’s my job.”

  “Ah, yes, Nurse Gwen has forgotten this is her day off, but, in answer to your question, I have no idea what or if anything, anywhere, will trigger my past.” He inhaled deeply and smiled. “It is my opinion that this place is far too peaceful to be a monumental part of my childhood.”

  “What do you base that upon?” she asked.

  “On the man who reared me. Surely there was no peace under his roof.”

  “Yet Arthur said the two of you came here to swim, fish, or just wrestle in the grass together,” Gwen said.

  “I find it hard to imagine that my parents allowed me to play with the son of a slave.”

  She grinned. “I suspect two very mischievous boys found a way to have fun despite racial segregation. I had brothers, and nothing motivated them more than an opportunity to break the rules.”

  “I do like fishing. Used to do it in a small lake close to the shack after Shannon brought me a pole she found.”

  “Did Jake’s mother fish with you?”

  “Sometimes,” he said. “Enough to put food on the table.” He studied Gwen and added. “We did not have an ongoing love affair. The first time was a mistake and we both knew it.”

  “I am not your judge. I believe we’ve been through this before,” she said.

  “That was before I cared what you thought of me.”

  “So, you care now?” She laughed. “Your father will be pleased his wages were not totally unproductive.”

  “And you stay for the wages alone? Have I misread you? I was under the impression that, perhaps, something deeper than money and obligation was growing between us.” Gwen felt a rush of heat run up her neck, and began to clear the dishes.

  “It appears I’ve touched a nerve,” he added playfully.

  “Mr. McAlister—it is not proper for a nurse to entertain such thoughts about her patient.”

  “It’s Sunday and we’re on a picnic. That sort of disqualifies your false sense of duty on both accounts.” He rested a hand over her arm, stilling her nervous shakes but turning up the heat instantly.

  Gwen glanced over to notice that Jake was sleeping soundly on the grass beside them.

  “The boy is fine. Don’t be using him as an excuse.”

  Gwen turned to face Daniel, and her heart melted her words into liquid mush. “Daniel,” she whispered and hung her head. With his finger, he lifted her chin until she stared into his face once again.

  “A kiss might be all we need to put this awkwardness in perspective,” Daniel suggested.

  Like a puppet on a string, she allowed him to lean in ever so slowly and deliberately. He provided ample time for her to regain her senses, yet she stayed transfixed on his searching gaze. Every fiber in her body said, “Back off,” but helplessness consumed her, and when his lips brushed hers, she closed her eyes.

  Only their lips touched, sending the kiss deeper and deeper until her head spun dizzily. Had she ever been kissed before? Pecks on the cheek did not come close to the feelings erupting inside her.

  When they finally separated, she heard the sharp intake of his breath and witnessed his uncontrollable shudder. Daniel had been equally affected by their intimacy, and it scared her to death.

  “Daniel,” she whispered, attempting to muster anything objective that might be lingering of her self-control. “This is not acceptable.”

  “Says who?”

  “I took an oath to serve my fellow man in a healing capacity. This only complicates it.”

  “It was a kiss, one that has opened our minds to destinies that we had, perhaps, not considered.”

  “But Miss Constance would be so disappointed, wasting three months of teaching on a nurse that falls for her first patient.”

  “I heard the woman was a spinster—that disqualifies her to judge in matters of the heart.”

  “But…” she began, but he placed his finger against her lips to stop the flow of words.

  “Enough said for today. We shall let the idea simmer until it reaches boiling and spills from our hearts out of control like a bubbling inferno.”

  “Very poetic, Daniel. Romancing women must be built into a man’s nature, as you appear to be quite comfortable in that department.”

  “It wasn’t long ago that I swore off women. I figured that if I didn’t know what made me tick, I wouldn’t burden any female with that uncertainty.”

  “You are not so unlike your father.” When she noticed his expression of surprise, she continued. “He speaks for other people as if they had no minds of their own and are incapable of making tough decisions.”

  “Aha! A false sense of know-it-all, McAlister control.”

  “Exactly. You should give a woman the chance to make up her mind on what she wants in her man,” Gwen said.

  “Am I your man?”

  “You have misinterpreted my words. I was speaking in general. You are not my man today or perhaps ever. We agreed to let it simmer, remember?”

  “It was obviously a slip of the tongue that I will regret in the torturous days ahead.”

  “You must concentrate on a complete healing—body, soul, and mind so that when the time comes to give your heart away, you will, indeed, have a whole, healthy man to offer.”

  “Did I ever tell how beautiful you are?” He took his finger and ran it along her cheek. “Especially with this wee piece of stuck-on chicken.” He brushed it off, not giving her the opportunity to see the evidence that she felt certain did not exist.

  “Thank you, sir, for the compliment. I’m sure I look a sight better in my Sunday attire than covered over with my uniform bib-apron.”

  “One that I wish you would rid yourself of. You do not work in a hospital with a required dress code.”

  She blushed. “It helps me remember why I’m here. keeping my mind focused on ways to trigger your healing.”

  “Another reason to be rid of the thing.” Daniel laughed. “But all kidding aside, we both might as well face the facts: my memories are not coming back. I’ve almost accepted it. I’m digging my feet into this land, accepting my heritage with limited eyesight, and moving forward, as the nurse hoped.”

  “That’s good news, but sometimes, a relaxed mind releases the secrets we try to hide.”

  “It definitely possesses fewer expectations,” Daniel said. “Except in your case, of course. I have high expectations with regard to you.”

  Gwen felt sure her cheeks turned crimson. She glanced hurriedly off to the side and her emotions collided in a broken heap.

  She gasped. “Daniel! Jake is gone.”

  Chapter 10

  Daniel and Gwen bolted to their feet simultaneously. He searched the horizon and at the last second, noticed the tiny frame stepping onto a slippery rock at the edge of the river. Daniel’s feet sprang into motion, and he covered the distance between the blanket and the water in record time. A strange fog descended upon his brain as he searched the rippled surface for signs of the boy. Something in his head spun out of control, and focusing became nearly impossible. He’d jumped up too fast, he chided himself, but now was not the time to entertain nausea from a head injury.

  Where was the boy? The more he tried to concentrate, the greater his inability to move. He staggered and felt Gwen at his arm.

  “Daniel—the baby!” she cried.

  He knew why he was there—or did he? To save someone, but who?

  Gwen had screamed about the baby, but he could only see a dark boy, splashing helplessly in the middle of the water, too far out to rescue him as he headed in the direction of stronger undercurrents. Daniel had lost control of his responses, and it scared him. It seemed as if the messages to his brain had been dammed up, and the command to move wouldn’t flow to his legs. Tidal waves of emotion peaked in his brain just before he collapsed to the ground in a heap, rocking and moaning while holdin
g his head.

  Somewhere within the chaos of the confusion in his head, he heard a splash, a woman’s voice calling out frantically, and then nothing.

  The bulky dress clung to her as she waded toward the tiny figure bobbing in and out of the water.

  Jake was facing heavenward, so he was not drowning, at least, not yet. He moved faster than she could in her load of cumbersome clothing, which slowed her progress. Gwen was not prepared when she lost her footing, and the shallow waters plummeted her to new depths. Her head disappeared underwater and resurfaced a moment later, her mouth spewing and choking out river water. Gwen’s feet no longer touched the pebbly bottom, and she experienced a stab of sudden panic, but she bit her lip and forced her mind to focus on survival, for both her and Jake.

  Concern for her patient writhing in agony on the shoreline was swept to a deeper place as she scanned the water to relocate the child. Yes, he was still right-side up. She whispered a prayer of thanks and asked for a dose of strength to cover the distance separating them. Her arms moved in a new rhythm, one over the other in long strides just as she’d been taught. The steady beat of her anxious heart spurred her forward, and before long, she gained a glimpse of hope that she might reach the child before the swirling mass of water in the distance pulled him under for good.

  Her insides groaned for relief, and with one final stretch of her arm, she grabbed hold of the infant.

  Jake stopped drifting, and she pulled him toward her. She noticed the swelling of a bump on his head, but otherwise, the child lay peacefully unconscious. At least she did not have to deal with a squirming toddler on the swim back. The twirling circle of water was so close she could feel the beginning of its pull.

  She lay on her back with Jake on her chest, and using the power of her hips and lower body, kicked her feet like a bullfrog, back in the direction of safety. Pumping, praying, clinging to the tiny form depending on her to see another day in this world became painstakingly difficult with every breath. Her throat stung, and her arms and legs felt numb, but she labored on, determined to make it back to shore.

  The stolen kiss that had changed everything came to mind. Its sweet, tantalizing distraction had almost killed Jake, and God only knew Daniel’s state as he struggled on the grassy shore. He had been her sole responsibility, and yet, in a moment of crisis, she’d chosen to save his baby instead of him. She’d failed miserably at her first nursing assignment. Back at the school, the long-anticipated medical posting had never once included the notion of surrendering romantically to her patient. Yet, try as she might to deny it, it had happened nonetheless.

  Push…kick…breathe. Her mind grew fuzzy, but a quick glance behind encouraged her. The shoreline was in sight, not so far away. The Lord had gotten her this far; He would see them through to safety.

  When her back hit the shallow, rocky floor, she sat upright, and a long sigh of relief filled her lungs. She peered closer at the baby and listened for his heart, which beat miraculously normally. It appeared that the bump on his head had just put him to sleep long enough to keep him floating upright, rather than being pulled underwater. She lifted him into her arms and struggled to stand.

  Then, she remembered Daniel and panicked. She searched the area but could see nothing. Her drenched dress held back her progress as she picked her way across the protruding, slippery rocks. When she hit the grass, she called out. “Daniel!” Fear rose in her heart. “Daniel!” she yelled louder.

  A head popped up over a small knoll and waved to her. “Nurse Gwen—hurry!”

  Her aching legs found new strength as they carried her toward Arthur. What was he doing there? Daniel had given him the afternoon off.

  When she had reached the wagon, she noted that Arthur and his cousin had managed to get Daniel inside the bed of their wagon.

  Mable met Gwen, her voice peaking on hysterics. “There’s no blood or hurt to fix on the outside. I couldn’t stop him from screaming out from some unseen pain he’s feeling on the inside. He finally just fell unconscious. We need to get him home so you can tend to him.”

  Gwen passed the baby—who was now squirming and beginning to cry—to Mable. “The child is not hurt,” Gwen told her. “Would you mind him for me?”

  “Yes, Miss.”

  With the responsibility of the baby lifted from her shoulders, the guilt began to set in. Daniel was her patient, and she’d left him alone on the beach to suffer in agony alone. Would he be grateful or hate her for abandoning him to save the son he hadn’t known existed until a short time ago?

  Gwen took the blanket Arthur offered and climbed into the back of his buckboard. She glanced at the carriage, and he nodded. “I’ll come back for it and the other things later. Let’s get Danny home.”

  Arthur had called him Danny for the first time since she’d known him, the boyish name they’d no doubt shared while romping around on the plantation, carrying out their mischievous pranks.

  Gwen rested Daniel’s head in her lap. His face portrayed lines of anguish, and she knew wherever his mind had escaped to in his unconscious state, it was not peaceful. Daniel’s pulse raced, and his chest moved up and down in short rapid breaths.

  She snuggled in closer to him, hoping he might gain comfort and assurance that someone was near. Gwen had failed him miserably, and the crying of the child in the front did nothing to ease her guilt.

  Daniel or Jake—how did one measure the value of a life? In a split second of decision, she’d chosen the baby, and now her charge lay in an unconscious state, perhaps dying on the inside. His ailment was far beyond her training. There were no cuts or bruises to mend, no physical therapy she could instruct him to perform, and no way to detect what had brought on the episode or how to bring him around.

  She prayed the entire way back to the chalet. God knew his inner turmoil, and He would comfort him in the places she could not reach. A quiet dependency rose within her, and she knew that with God on her side, His will would be performed, yet during the war, she’d watched many soldiers who had never awoken from their injuries or that doctors could not fix, die a lonely death. It was during those times when she’d helped at the hospital in Baltimore, that the passion to give her life to see men healed had grabbed hold of her spirit.

  A noble contribution, but one she feared she would not endure. She gazed helplessly at Daniel, and her passion wore thin. Either Gwen had grown too close to the patient to stay detached, or she was not cut out to watch patients suffer unto death.

  Would he die? She’d need to call for help from the closest doctor. Waiting for the unknown to unfold would be unbearable.

  At Daniel’s cottage, Arthur carried the still form into his bedroom, and Gwen hurried ahead to pull back the blankets. His head flopped to the side, and she pumped his pillow on the sides to hold him securely. The ladies left the room while Arthur removed his boots and damp clothing.

  In the kitchen, Gwen stoked the fire and put a kettle of water on to boil.

  “Please, Mable—go next door, and find whatever you need to care for the baby, and load it into your wagon. I will inform the McAlisters you are busy with nanny work until their son is fully recovered. If they need their laundry done, they can bring it to you.”

  She lowered her head and nodded. “You will surely have your hands full here, but I can still perform my duties at the big house. No need for you to make arrangements. I’ll bring the youngster along, and if the family is dissatisfied and tell me to tend solely to the child, I will keep him at the row house.”

  “Suit yourself,” Gwen said. “I feel so helpless.”

  “The Good Lord will have His way. I hope He decides to let the young master stay with us a while longer. Artie misses him terribly and has hoped that his childhood friend would remember their past adventures.”

  “I do see the pain in his eyes when he looks at Daniel. Sometimes, I think it is harder for those who remember than those who do not.”

  “Suppose we’ll never know how the mind works. The Creator made t
hat one a mystery, to be sure.”

  When Gwen returned to Daniel’s room with a basin of water and clean cloths, he was wearing a fresh pair of pajamas. She grinned, realizing the feat of wriggling clean clothing onto an uncooperative body.

  She pulled a light blanket over him and felt his forehead. It wasn’t hot—no fever inflicted him, but his gloomy expression said it all, things were not as they should be on the inside.

  For the lack of something to do, she bathed his face and neck to rid it of any remaining dirt, primarily with the hope of bringing him comfort. She’d noticed that touching a patient often brought with it a sense of relief. Depression always accompanied the sickly, and many a lonely soldier had told her of the comfort she had brought, just by wiping their brows.

  A short time later, Mrs. McAlister rushed into the room, and Gwen jumped to her feet. “Arthur has told us of the accident. He has gone to town to fetch my husband and the doctor.” She moved closer and looked at her son with hesitant eyes that did not seem to know how to respond. “He looks peaceful enough. What are his injuries?”

  “Nothing physical, Mrs. McAlister. The episode came on him quite suddenly.”

  “An episode?” The woman appeared shocked.

  “He was running toward the water to find Jacob who’d slipped away unnoticed, when his knees buckled, and he fell to the ground, holding his head as if it were too heavy to stay upright.”

  “And I understand you chose to save the child and leave my son unattended?” Her tone suggested disapproval.

  “Daniel pushed me away, and waved me toward the water. I believed that was what he wanted me to do.” Gwen hoped that her memory had not failed her, and that had been Daniel’s true intention.

  “But we pay you to care for our son, not his illegitimate child.”

  “Daniel has grown to care for the boy. Perhaps if you came around more often, your grandchild would find a place in your heart, as well.”

  “Remember your place, Nurse Peters.”

  Gwen moved toward the door. “I will leave you alone with your son for a while.”