“Well, out with it!” he barked. “If you’re going to disobey me, at least be a little quicker with your explanation.”
“I believe I’m assigned to Dr. Saul next week, sir, and I can’t tolerate the thought. Is there any way you could request me? That is, if you find me useful at all?”
Dr. Wentworth nodded slowly. “After everything that’s happened, yes, I can see why you wouldn’t want to work with Saul. Frankly, I’d rather not work with him either, but we don’t always get to choose our colleagues. Yes, Miss Green, I’ll request you for next week. You can’t avoid Dr. Saul forever, though—each nurse is supposed to work with each doctor, and we can’t tip the scales in your favor every time.”
“I know that, sir. I just hoped for a little more distance between ourselves and the . . . incident, perhaps giving him the opportunity to forget.”
“Oh, he’s not going to forget. Any slight, real or imagined, gets recorded in that head of his with the blackest of ink. That’s one trait I don’t admire in the man.” Dr. Wentworth pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled on it for a moment. “There. Give that to your Miss Cantrell. That should solve your worries for now.”
“Thank you, sir.” Libby carefully folded the note before putting it in her pocket. “Oh, and one more thing.”
He raised an eyebrow. “How did I know we weren’t quite finished?”
She chose to ignore that. “It’s about the Harts, sir.”
He nodded again. “I’ve been working on a letter detailing my findings with the child. I’ve also requested a meeting with the family’s regular doctor. I sent that request by messenger, so I hope to have it all arranged soon. I’d like you to be in attendance.”
That was unexpected. “Whatever I can do to help, sir.”
“Nurses are sometimes the very best advocates a family can have. I trust that you’ll be a friend and ally to Mrs. Hart during these proceedings.”
“Absolutely, sir. I believe in her cause.”
“Thank you. Now, get yourself back home and stop this scampering all over town. You’d better be in the best shape possible come Monday, or I won’t want to work with you after all.”
“Yes, sir.”
Checking her pocket to make sure she had the note, Libby walked into the hallway, collected Lewis and the picnic basket, and they began the walk back to Dr. Russell’s. This time, Lewis wanted to lead the way to show off his newfound navigation skills, and she let him. Her mind was somewhere else, puzzling over a little boy named Tommy, wondering what could be done to give him the kind of life he truly deserved.
Chapter Fifteen
“I can’t believe Dr. Russell is actually letting us throw a party,” Phoebe said, the small feathers in her hair quivering with her excitement.
“I always thought it was just a matter of time.” Laura pinched her cheeks as she studied her reflection. “We’d wear him down sooner or later.”
All the girls had crowded into Sophie and Jeanette’s room because they had the best mirror. It had the added advantage of bringing all of them together to help with buttons and laces and so forth.
“Meg, you said your brother was going to bring some friends. Is he still planning to do that?” Tess asked. “Otherwise, we’re going to be frightfully short on men, and I don’t enjoy parties where I have to fight for attention. It’s hard enough when there are equal numbers.”
“Agreed.” Millie finished adjusting her underskirts and smoothed down her dress. “It’s even hard when you have an assigned dinner companion. Sometimes I wholeheartedly support the idea of arranged marriages. At least then you know who you’re supposed to be with, and they’re sort of obligated to pay attention to you.”
Libby smiled at all the banter taking place around her. These girls had become her sisters, and she was going to miss them when she left.
What? Where had that thought come from? She wasn’t leaving—not for months yet. And when the program was over, they’d all be leaving, not just her. She shook her head. Having time off was definitely not good for her—it got her thinking all sorts of strange things.
When the girls descended the stairs a few minutes later, Libby looked down at her dress, hoping it would be all right. She’d chosen a yellow sprigged muslin, certainly not a party gown, but one of the least somber ones she’d brought with her. Some of the other girls looked ready for a ball, not a simple gathering at home.
Lewis was waiting at the bottom of the staircase, one hand resting lightly on the bannister. He wore a fresh suit and shirt, and his hair looked as though it had been recently trimmed. “Mr. Franklin, you look rather dashing this evening,” she said, taking his arm.
“Thank you. Mrs. Everett had some things brought in for me and saw to my hair. She said that no gentleman would go to a party wearing the same clothes he’d brought to tour the town, especially when he was the evening’s entertainment.”
“Well, I have to say, Mrs. Everett did a very nice job with you. You’re almost presentable now.”
“I’m so glad to hear that. I’ve been fretting something awful.” He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “How are my socks?”
“I’m not even going to look. You look so dashing in every other way, your socks aren’t at all important.”
Libby helped him get situated at the piano, then stepped into the kitchen to see what else needed to be done. Laura and Tess had spent all morning and afternoon baking cakes and other dainty desserts, and in the process, had made a huge mess in the kitchen. They had sworn to Mrs. Everett that they would clean everything up and leave it as good as new, but she was not in the slightest bit amused and had threatened their lives if they didn’t do as they’d promised.
Everything looked delicious. The pieces of cake were lined up on tiny plates, lemonade and raspberry punch were ladled out into glasses, and Libby couldn’t see anything that yet remained to be done. So she went back out to the parlor to help greet the guests, wondering the whole time just who Laura had found to invite.
A few moments after she wondered this, Benjamin Wilhite arrived, bringing four gentleman friends with him. They all seemed cultured and educated, and one even bowed over her hand as he entered the room. How long had it been since she’d attended a party? She could hardly even remember the last one, for all the impression it had made on her.
Lewis began playing some soft music, just enough to drift through the room and provide a nice atmosphere. She suspected that later, he’d shift to something a little more attention-getting, something that would thrill and delight everyone in the room.
By the time all the guests had arrived, there was nearly an equal number of ladies to gentlemen, and that was precisely what Libby had hoped. But then the doorbell rang again, and she moved to answer it.
“Nurse Walters,” she said, holding the door open and staring at the woman on the stoop. “What brings you by?”
“Miss Montgomery invited me,” she said. “We passed each other in the hallway this afternoon and she was kind enough to include me. This is Dr. Russell’s house, is it not? I wondered if I’d found the right place, considering that it’s dark and I’m not as familiar with the area as I’d like to be.”
Libby swallowed. “Yes, of course. Please forgive me—it’s been a long day. Come in and join us.” She stepped back and held the door open a little wider, allowing Nurse Walters and her voluminous green skirts to enter.
What had Laura been thinking? Had she just invited anyone and everyone, with no discrimination whatsoever? Was she actually friends with Nurse Walters? Libby forced a smile and went into the parlor, where she took a deep breath and tried to bring her emotions into check. Nurse Walters hadn’t actually been offensive—she’d just shown interest in Lewis. That was something any young woman would do—he was charming, funny, interesting to talk to, and from what she could tell around the bandages, good-looking. It wasn’t like Nurse Walters had done anything intentionally unkind.
Although she had squabbled a bit with Libby when it ca
me to the patient with pneumonia. That kind of delay in treatment could mean serious consequences for someone in pain, should it happen again. But she had completed the nursing program, and Libby was still a student. It was natural for her to believe she knew more than Libby.
It seemed that no matter what Libby tried to hold against her, there was some logical explanation, and that didn’t suit Libby in the slightest. She wanted to be mad, but couldn’t find enough justification for it. How frustrating. She would have to try harder.
***
Lewis brought the song to a close and was about to begin the next when he heard a soft voice by his shoulder. “Mr. Franklin?”
He turned on the bench. “Nurse Walters? Is that you?”
“It is. I hope I’m not interrupting you.”
“Not at all. I’d just finished. What a nice surprise—I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“I don’t often get out. When Miss Montgomery invited me, I had to accept.”
“I’m glad you did.” Lewis wasn’t quite sure what to say to her. They’d only spoken on a professional level before, and now, to be put in a social setting—he’d guessed that she was interested in him, and this just made everything so much more complicated.
“Lewis, let me take over for a bit.” He recognized Benjamin Wilhite’s voice behind him. “I’m not as talented on the piano as you are, but surely you’d like a chance to dance with this young lady.”
Dance? With Nurse Walters? The idea hadn’t even entered his mind, but now that it had been suggested out loud, a social expectation had been created, and if he didn’t follow through, he’d be considered rude. “Of course. Nurse Walters, would you care to dance?”
“I’d be delighted.”
Lewis slid off the piano bench and allowed her to lead him to the center of the parlor. He’d heard one of the girls say that the furniture had been rearranged to allow a few couples to dance at a time.
“You’re a very smooth dancer,” she said. “I mean, you seem quite sure of yourself, even though your eyes are bandaged. I hope you’re not becoming disoriented.”
“I hope so too. That would be quite embarrassing, wouldn’t it?”
“But understandable. I don’t think a single person here would blame you.”
He’d been expecting a lighthearted, mocking reply like he would have gotten from Libby, and he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “We’ll just hope it doesn’t happen, then.”
Ordinarily, the dance would call for them to exchange partners, but Lewis didn’t feel he could make his way around the floor safely. He and Nurse Walters moved off to the side, a bit out of the way, to continue their own modified version of the dance.
“Are you comfortable here at Dr. Russell’s?” she asked after an awkward pause.
“Yes, they’ve made me quite comfortable. And I feel less in the way.”
“Oh, you weren’t in the way at the hospital. At least, I never thought you were.”
“Thank you.” Another pause. “And things are going well over there? I’ve been gone for such a long time, I’m sure everything has changed entirely.”
“You haven’t been gone that long, Mr. Franklin. I believe you’ve lost some sense of time. That wouldn’t be unusual, considering that we gauge the passage of time by seeing the sun rise and set, and you can’t do that right now.”
Again, a logical answer to a nonsensical question. He should stop expecting her to be different from what she was—it wasn’t fair to her. “I believe I am getting a little turned around. Would you like some lemonade? There’s some in the kitchen.”
“That would be nice.”
“Well, I’d love to get it for you, but I’m afraid I’d spill.”
“Oh, of course! Here, take this chair, and I’ll bring some back for both of us.”
Lewis sat down and waited, wondering how he’d gotten himself into this and if there was any way to extricate himself without seeming rude. He didn’t want to hurt the girl’s feelings, but she wasn’t for him at all, and there was one young lady here he’d much rather be spending his time with.
Then she was there beside him, almost as if he’d wished her into existence. “Where’s your dancing partner?” she asked, her voice filled with amusement.
“She has gone to fetch us some lemonade,” he replied.
“I see. And when she returns, will you be spending the rest of the evening with her? Or will other young ladies have the privilege of dancing with you too?”
He dropped his jaw. “Miss Green! Are you so brazen as to imply that you would like to dance with me? It’s the gentleman’s role to ask, not the lady’s. I’m so scandalized, I’ve a good mind not to ask you at all now.”
“Oh? Well, that’s all right. I’ve already danced with one of Mr. Wilhite’s friends, and I do believe another was about to ask me when I wandered over here.”
“And now you’re trying to make me jealous. Why, I never.” He lifted his nose in the air and pretended to be greatly affronted.
“Are you jealous?”
“What?”
“Are you jealous? Of me. Dancing with someone else.”
“I don’t know if I should answer that question. It might make me seem more vulnerable than I want to be.”
“Well, if that’s not a condemning answer, I don’t know what is.” She chuckled, but then her voice changed tone. “Hello again, Nurse Walters. I hope you’re having a good time.”
“I am, thank you. Here’s your lemonade, Mr. Franklin.” He felt a cool glass being pressed into his hand and he took it eagerly, glad for something to distract him. It had been so pleasant to banter with Libby, and now he had to be prepared to take everything seriously again.
He heard Libby move away, and he took another few swallows of lemonade. Finally, an idea struck him. It wasn’t entirely straightforward, but it would have to do. “Nurse Walters, I’m so sorry to bring our meeting to a close, but I’ve promised to perform a certain composition tonight. Would you please lead me back to the piano?”
“Of course.” She took his glass, and a moment later, she guided him across the room.
“I’m sorry to oust you, Mr. Wilhite, but I’ve a promise to keep,” Lewis said, and his new friend willingly gave up his spot on the bench.
The music came quickly, a song he’d composed while recovering from his first broken heart. He remembered so vividly the pain he’d felt, the rejection, the surety that he’d be miserable forever. Now as he looked back on the experience, he realized it had been but a moment in his life, one that had taught him and matured him and prepared him for other things that would come. It was no longer full of sadness for him, but rather, nostalgia, and as he played, he realized that he could easily put all those feelings to rest and remember Violet fondly, without rancor.
What a blessing time was when it came to the healing of wounds.
Chapter Sixteen
Sundays were typically a day of rest. No classes were held, no shifts were worked at the hospital, and the girls could attend church or sleep or do whatever else they liked. On this particular Sunday, though, Dr. Russell asked to see Libby in his study.
“Miss Green,” he said, lacing his fingers and resting his hands on his desk, “please take a seat.”
She did as she was told. He seemed very solemn, and she wondered what she’d done to bring that about.
“Miss Green, do you remember at the beginning of the week, when Miss Cantrell spoke about maintaining a professional distance from your patients? And then when you asked if Mr. Franklin could board here, I cautioned you again?”
“Yes, sir. I do remember.” She didn’t have to touch her face to know it had become warm.
“I stepped into the party for a short time last night when I got home from the hospital, and I noticed you and Mr. Franklin speaking with each other. Now, with his eyes bandaged the way they are, I couldn’t tell how he was looking at you, metaphorically speaking, but I will say, you were looking at him with something more than profes
sional interest. Just exactly what is going on between the two of you?”
Libby wanted to lie, to say that she’d kept those boundaries perfectly and there was nothing to be concerned about. But she couldn’t. “I don’t know how Mr. Franklin feels about me, sir, but I will admit that I enjoy spending time with him. He makes me laugh, he listens to me, and we are at the very least good friends. Does it go beyond that? I don’t know. I don’t even know if I wish it to. But I promise, we haven’t done anything inappropriate, and I have no intention of such a thing happening.”
Dr. Russell held up one hand. “I’ve never been worried about you in that regard, Miss Green. Your personal integrity would never allow such a thing. Our caution was set in place in the hopes that our nurses wouldn’t allow their emotions to cloud their judgment. What if we had to rush Mr. Franklin into emergency surgery? Would you be able to remain impassive, or would we have to find another nurse to find your place?”
“I believe I could do it, sir. Especially if time was of the essence.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear that.” He peered at her again. “I understand his parents are due to arrive soon.”
“That’s right, sir.”
“Do you think they’ll be taking him back home straightaway?”
“I hope not, sir. He’s to play for the conductor of the Philharmonic, if Mr. Wilhite can arrange it.”
“But what about after that? What if things don’t go well—will they leave and finish his care with his doctor at home?”
“I hope not, sir. He’d be better off here with Dr. Wentworth so he has consistency of care. And as far as I’m concerned personally, I’d have to say that’s up to him and his family. Our lives aren’t connected.” Even as she spoke the words, though, she had to admit to herself that she wasn’t being entirely truthful. She cared very much if they left right away. She wanted them to stay. In fact, she never wanted him to leave at all.
“It’s not my place to advise you on your romantic dealings, Miss Green, only your professional ones. Have you thought this through from all angles, knowing what is best for your patient?”
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