“Truth is, I’m scared half to death of ladies—not on a professional level but absolutely on a personal level. Suppose that’s why I bark so loud when things get awkward and I can’t compartmentalize what a woman thinks, says, and does,” he said. “I hope you understand that I could never have asked you to comfort me in your arms while watching you stroll comfortably with another man who grasped your arm so tightly there was not an inch to spare between you.”
“Well, I’m here to set the record straight,” Shannon said, a new confidence building within her. “Mr. Stapleton will be returning to Kentucky alone and I have decided Mason will forever be my friend.” Shannon moved to within six inches of his face and steadied her gaze on him. “And when you chose not to come to dinner, which might have revealed at least the slightest interest in challenging the competition, you managed to flare up my anger and remain a very irritating mystery—until now.” Shannon exhaled deeply. “Walter, I am available now, should you still need someone to hold you.”
Without a word he collapsed against her, pulling her closer as he buried his face into her hair. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and together they stood strong—her soothing his short sobbing gasps and him making her feel like a tower in a storm—if only she could stay forever in his arms. She prayed comfort was not all the man required of her and felt a new dream swell within her bosom.
When they parted, he cupped his hand under her chin and lifted it to meet his teary eyes. “How you could have captured my heart so quickly is beyond my understanding, but I have never felt this attraction to a woman before you came along. Does that sound absurd?”
“It does, but I fully understand, because you sir, have destroyed every wall of self-defense I’ve erected in remaining an unattached spinster for life.”
When their lips came together, Shannon melted into his kiss and knew she could never again consider a life without a man in it. This feeling wrapped around her heart and filled a void she didn’t know existed. He continued to hold her, showering kisses and hugs until she thought her insides would burst from the pleasure their intimacy inspired.
After she caught her breath, she whispered in his ear. “Oh, my, Dr. Franssen, however will you explain us to the nursing staff that have long imagined being the woman in your arms?”
“The nurses?” Walter muttered as he ran a row of kisses down her neck. “There are none that interest me.”
“But there are a number that are interested in you.”
He pushed her out to arms-length and chuckled. “Then we shall invite them to the wedding.”
“The wedding? Does a kiss automatically mean we are headed to the altar?”
“If you want it to, it most certainly does.”
A knock sounded at the door and the tangled arms dropped as the couple separated. Shannon went to a nearby window to look out and hide her flushed face while Walter headed for the door.
“Sorry to bother you, Dr. Franssen, but your sister’s body is ready for transport. We’ve brought the covered buggy around to the side door.”
“Simon, would you send security to the boardinghouse to tell Molly that Nurse Shannon will be escorting us to the homestead? She will be gone a couple of days. Also tell the head of nursing to take her off the schedule.”
“Yes, Dr. Franssen.” Walter closed the door after the man left and turned to see Shannon staring at him open-mouthed.
“You appear to assume a lot after one kiss, Dr. Franssen.”
“One very long kiss, Nurse Shannon,” he said playfully, then she watched as his expression turned solemn. “I’m taking Anna home for my parents to say their goodbyes, and we shall no doubt bury her in the family plot.”
“I understand, but this is hardly the time to introduce a woman into the family. Whatever will your parents think?”
“A woman of interest, might I add,” he said. “They will without doubt witness first hand that their son has finally fallen madly in love with the nurse who tried gallantly to save Anna’s life.”
How could she say no to that appeal? “I should pack a small bag with appropriate attire if you plan to be gone for two days.”
“Do you never just do something spontaneous?” he asked.
“I just kissed you—that was rather spontaneous,” Shannon said. “And the act has barely registered in my head and now you talk of marriage and meeting the family.”
“So, you are the type that wants to drag this out, are you? Your kiss said otherwise.”
She straightened and walked toward the door, suddenly fearful of what this new venture might do to her unfulfilled nursing passion. “Yet, in one easy sweep, you expect me to abandon my dreams and go the route my father claims as every woman’s duty.” Shannon had no idea what had triggered her tongue to lash out the confusion swimming within her mind. The flow was unstoppable, and when done, emptiness consumed her.
“In the future, I shall be sure to hold my feelings in check, Nurse Shannon.”
“Now you’re angry,” Shannon said, already trying to back-track. “Of course, I will go with you, to help you through this terrible time of grief.”
Apparently, that was the wrong motive, for a shadow fell over his face and she knew she’d killed the tender moment they’d just experienced. “Fine. Go pack your bag. The wagon pulls out in thirty minutes.” He opened the door and coldly ushered her out, closing it firmly in her astonished face.
For the next half-hour, she passed through every emotion possible. From compassion to rejection, from ecstasy to shame, from joy to regret. She gave Molly a quick explanation for her absence and hurried back to the hospital with a duffle bag in tow. When she arrived, Walter was positioned next to a brown mare—one of the team of horses standing ready for the journey—stroking its long snout. He took her bag and helped her onto the front bench seat. He climbed up beside her, let the break off, and slapped the lines on the animal’s backs, bolting the vehicle into motion.
They drove through Maple Grove in awkward silence and started on the southbound road. Still, he said nothing, and Shannon felt she’d explode from the uncomfortable atmosphere that separated them like a chasm.
“Dr. Franssen, we need to discuss this before we reach our destination.”
“Seems there’s nothing to discuss.”
“Then why bring me along at all?”
“I’m a brute for punishment,” he said. “Finding it hard to lose two women in my life on the same day.”
“You haven’t lost me,” Shannon argued. “I just need time to readjust my thinking.”
“I won’t be cast in the same lot as your father’s shallow expectations for your future which seems to rile your independent femininity to a near explosive temperament. You have a mind of your own, Miss Tyre and I won’t bother you another minute about it.”
“But it’s different with you—we need to talk this out.” Shannon twisted in her seat to look at him but his eyes stayed on the road ahead. “I did enjoy our kiss and the hope of your growing affections took residence in my heart, but I’ve known you barely a week. Surely even you require more time to evaluate your choice. For when, or if I wed, it will be for a lifetime.”
“My minds made up, but obviously yours is not,” he said. “Feel free to take all the time you need.” Walter’s voice did not depict the least amount of hope in her that he’d be waiting when she balanced the weight between her heart and her mind.
“I’ve never been a spontaneous person. It took me forever to get up the nerve to defy my parents and go to nursing school. This emotional awakening has caught me off guard. Surely you can understand my dilemma?”
“I just said, take all the time you need. What more is there to say?”
“You are using that stiff face and unfeeling tone that you dish out to your employees,” she said. “I need to know that you understand my fears and you’ll still want me when I come to my senses.”
The man fell silent again, and she turned to watch the scenery as it passed by. The air w
as crisp and she pulled the woolen shawl tighter around her shoulders. He glanced her way.
“There is a rug behind you, just inside the flap.”
Shannon reached in and noticed the box that carried the remains of his sister. She was such a fool. The man was beside himself with grief and she could not bend enough to meet him halfway in his mourning. She fumbled with the blanket, spreading half to cover his legs as well.
“I’m sorry, Walter—may I call you that?”
“That’s my name.”
“I don’t want to make this day any more difficult than it is after losing your sister and the unbearable task of confronting your parents with the news. Forgive me, and know that I am by your side every step of the way.” She took hope when his gaze lingered on her, and continued, “Can we put this cold-shoulder treatment behind us? Let me be the friend you need?”
“Friend? Sure, let’s be friends.” He turned away abruptly, and his tone exposed the painful hurt she’d inflicted upon him by putting-off his impulsive show of love toward her—a demonstration of affection that he’d openly admitted to be a struggle.
She scooped her arm through his and rested her head against his shoulder. “I can’t bear to see your pain. Please allow me back inside your good graces.”
His voice sounded distant as he uttered the words she needed to hear. “I will be waiting for you when you ‘come to your senses’.”
She squeezed his arm and snuggled closer. “How far is it to your home?”
“Another fifteen minutes.”
She closed her eyes and prayed aloud, “Dear Lord, prepare the hearts of Anna’s parents who have known such fear and grief with regards to their daughter. Comfort the Franssen family with your love and sheltering arms as they say their earthly goodbyes. And help me to be everything that Walter needs in these days of sorrow. I thank you for placing him in my life and pray your will be done between us in the future. We worship you, Lord, and bear our hearts upon your altar of mercy. In Jesus name we pray, Amen.”
Walter echoed his “amen” and Shannon felt the peace that surpasses all understanding, knowing that their floundering relationship was somehow back on track.
When they pulled up to the Franssen Estate, Shannon experienced a strangling sensation, like she was returning to the home she’d fled. Fear of falling into the same social traps that Kentucky had threatened, overpowered her, and she fought hard to dismiss its control over her being. Common sense told her this was Walter’s home—not hers—and when the inner battle between the past and the future eased off, a contentment brought tears of joy to her eyes. Shannon’s faith surrendered to God, who in His infinite wisdom, saw fit to provide a wealthy suitor to heal her rebellious heart.
Embarrassment enveloped her to have questioned His eternal wisdom. Her earthly father, Eugene Tyre, would indeed be pleased should she abandon her dream and choose to become a wealthy doctor’s wife. Healing melted into all of the cracks in her life, and she marveled at the scripture that stated, ‘He works all things together for good.’
So, when the next thought popped into her head, she gave it full consideration—perhaps the source of her rebellion that caused a reluctance to commit and submit had nothing to do with the man by her side or her father, but God’s perfect timing.
Chapter 9
Once inside the foyer, the butler summoned Mr. and Mrs. Franssen who had just retired after entertaining church guests for dinner. Walter and Shannon waited in the parlor. He paced quietly and she went to him.
“How can I support you?”
“Just hold my hand. My parents are pleasant as a rule, but undoubtedly today will not be their finest hour.”
The middle-aged couple chose that moment to come into the room. “Well, look who has chosen to darken our doorstep.” A man approached Walter and shook his hands. “How are things at the hospital?”
“Fine, Father.” He pulled Shannon closer. “This is Miss Tyre. Shannon, this is my father, Ernest Franssen and my mother, Elouise.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Shannon allowed Walter’s father to kiss the back of her hand and his mother gathered her close for a quick peck on the cheek.
“You wouldn’t be any connection to the Tyre textile industry in Kentucky, would you?” Mr. Franssen asked.
“I am. My father owns the business.” Shannon said it sweetly but inside she felt sad she could not have earned her own respect from the Franssen’s before they linked her with the wealthy aristocrats across the border.
“My wife will only let her tailor order fabric from there. She claims it is the finest quality in the country,” Mr. Franssen said.
“Thank you. I will pass the encouragement off to my family—being the best is certainly the motto they strive to achieve,” Shannon said politely. Not wanting to delay the inevitable, she added, “I believe your son has news to share from Maple Grove.”
Mr. Franssen swept his hand in the direction of a group of chairs encircling the fireplace—the coziest part of the grand room. “Please, let’s sit.” He rang a bell and ordered tea and then there was silence as all eyes landed on Walter to open the conversation.
“It concerns Anna,” Walter began. Discouraging groans escaped from the older couple’s lips, as if they’d chatted long hours about the rebellious girl in this very spot and did not appreciate rehashing old news. Walter continued. “I admitted her to the hospital last week, and when I gave her up to die, along came Nurse Shannon who diagnosed the problem almost immediately.”
“Why, thank you, Miss Tyre. It sounds like you are a great contribution to my son’s staff,” Mr. Franssen said.
Shannon offered a slight smile and bit her lip. If only that were the entire story.
“Anna was in rough shape. Her husband and I had a tussle at the depot and she was accidentally shot in the leg—least I think it was an accident; there’s no way of knowing for sure when it comes to Janus Arnold.” Walter took a deep breath before continuing. “The leg wasn’t healing well, but we were dealing with it and could have saved it. It was coming down off the poisonous drug she’d concocted from the wild that was the most exhausting—for all of us. I honestly thought she was over the worst of it, but then she crawled out of bed over to the storage cabinet that housed her belongings, and brought out another stash from her bag. In short, she overdosed and killed herself.” His mother gasped and he went to kneel at her side. “I am so sorry, Mother, to be the bearer of such horrid news.”
“I have cried all the tears I have for that child. I doubt there are any more.” The woman’s voice cracked, but no tears flowed.
“You must grieve this loss, Mother. All the hope we carried that she would see the folly of her ways and come home is gone and it will be hard to face that.”
“Did you bring her home?” Mr. Franssen asked.
“We did. Where shall we lay her out?”
“Over by the window. She used to love to sit there and stare across the meadow.”
Mrs. Franssen stood and pulled the cord for the maid. “I shall change clothes. Ernest—will you send word to the preacher, and if you contact the Farnworth’s, they will spread the news like wildfire. Shall we plan the service for tomorrow, in the early afternoon?”
“Sounds about right,” her husband said.
When the maid arrived, Mrs. Franssen nodded toward Shannon. “Please take our guest, Miss Tyre to the blue room so she can freshen up before the evening meal. She and Walter will be with us for a few days.”
Mr. Franssen spoke. “I am sorry your first visit to our home has to be tainted with this sorrow.”
“If I can be of any service, please feel free to ask. Meanwhile, I will pray for your family,” Shannon offered.
“My wife will appreciate that my son has brought home a praying woman.”
Shannon glanced at Walter. “I will be down in about an hour.”
“Thank you for coming, Nurse Shannon,” Walter said.
She did not miss the inquisitive raise of his father’s ey
ebrow, obviously his mind frantically attempting to define their relationship. “No trouble at all.”
She picked up her bag, left the parlor, and followed the maid up the wide expanse of stairs. The tapping of her shoes echoed on the marble steps, making her feel disrespectful of the death-silence that had enveloped the house. Shannon noted the streaking veins of color in the stonework that complimented the warm hues of the polished wood railing beneath her hand. The décor was a mix of granite and timber enhancing the splendor of the entrance hall and offering a pleasant first-impression for guests.
Once inside the privacy of her room, Shannon exhaled deeply, and leaned against the closed door. With eyes closed, she lifted up one of those prayers she’d offered for the family. Such a tragedy. It dawned on her that perhaps she should be more grateful to be living so close to her Kentucky home, just in case she was called to return due to sickness or death. A person was only given one family in this lifetime and because of her rebellion, she’d taken them for granted. She would mend the rift she’d ruptured into those relationships, sooner than later.
The room was decorated in blue hues, the covers, pillows, and accents all in flowery patterns that flattered the rich dark wood. She proceeded to hang up the two dresses she’d brought with her, grateful to own darker outfits that would suit the morbid occasion. The hats included veils that she could pull down to cover her face when necessary. It took her a half hour to rid herself of the Sunday fancy-frock she’d chosen ever so carefully this morning to entertain men at the lunch table. That day had plummeted to even greater depths of despair than she’d imagined possible. In the shadows of death, the idea of romancing a man seemed frivolous. The day did not end nearly as she’d hoped –except for the kiss—the one ray of light with Walter that she’d managed to destroy.
Shannon made her way downstairs and headed straight for the parlor. It was empty, all but for the wooden box in the corner that stretched across a long table at an angle to the window and a wall on which hung a huge portrait of a younger Anna. She walked to the open casket and peered inside. The hospital had done a good job of freshening her appearance. There was even a hint of a smile playing at the edges of her lips.
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