Unexpected Love

by Andrea Boeshaar

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Mr. Blackeyes chuckled. “I sensed you didn’t like him, Renna.”

  “Nurse Fields,” she corrected. She sighed and sat back. “All right. I admit it. You’re correct. There’s just something about him that makes me wary.”

  “Even more than I do—a pirate?”

  “Believe it or not, yes. Now, hold still.”

  She finished shaving and put the razor and wash bin away. Then she allowed Mr. Blackeyes to get out of bed and stretch so she could straighten the linens. The night nurse had taken pity on him and rummaged through a box of donations, producing tan-colored trousers and a wrinkled white shirt. But even wearing those rumpled castoffs, he was still a handsome man.

  “What do you look like, Renna—I mean, Nurse Fields?”

  “Me?” The question caught her off guard. Her hand flew to her cheek, the one marred by the birthmark. “I–I’m just regular-looking, I guess. Nothing special, and certainly not anything like the ladies with whom you’re probably accustomed to socializing.”

  Mr. Blackeyes acted as though he hadn’t heard her. “Could I . . . could I feel what you look like, Renna?”

  Her mouth suddenly went dry at the thought of him touching her. “What on earth do you mean?”

  “Please,” he persisted. “I–I just want to have an image of you in my mind—that is, I do already, but I’m wondering if it’s accurate.”

  “Mr. Blackeyes, I don’t think—”

  Before she could say another word, he stepped forward and touched her hair. Most of it was covered by her stiff white nurse’s cap. “What color is it?” he asked, rubbing a few strands between his thumb and forefinger.

  Renna could only stand statue still. She’d never had a man touch her hair like this before. “Reddish-brown.”

  “Curly?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can tell by its texture.” His hands moved to her face. “What color are your eyes?”

  “Green,” she squeaked.

  “Like emeralds.” His thumbs rubbed over her brows then down her cheeks. “Your skin is so soft . . . are you fair-skinned? With a smattering of freckles, perhaps?”

  “Yes.”

  “Most redheads are—and I speak of both males and females.”

  Renna lifted a brow and immediately found her voice again. “Thank you for clarifying that, Mr. Pirate Blackeyes.”

  He laughed and touched her nose. “Pert, just like your personality.”

  Renna couldn’t help but smile now. Her father liked to lovingly tease her that way too. A pert little nose on a pert little girl . . .

  Mr. Blackeyes touched her mouth then, and one finger lingered on her bottom lip for a long moment. Renna thought he seemed wistful, and she wondered why. A heartbeat later she sensed he wanted to kiss her. Somewhat frightened by the thought, Renna brought her head back, and Mr. Blackeyes moved his hands down to her chin and neck.

  “You’re not very tall.” Once more he’d accurately assessed her. His hands went to her shoulders. “And you’re slight of build.” He gripped her by her upper arms. “But strong for a woman.”

  “All right, that’s quite enough.” Renna stepped back out of his grasp. “There is nothing more for you to feel, so get back into bed.”

  He smiled and, much to her surprise, complied without a single complaint. He surprised her further by saying, “I knew you were beautiful.”

  Renna swallowed hard. She wasn’t beautiful. Not at all. She had an ugly purple birthmark on her face that made men gawk and stare. Why, she’d even caught Matthew Benchley gazing at it with an expression of regret. He might as well have said aloud, “I might have been attracted to you if it weren’t for that thing on your face. Doesn’t it come off?”

  Of course, Renna was actually glad that Mr. Benchley wasn’t attracted to her. But that’s what Mr. Blackeyes would say once he regained his sight. He would look at her face in horror, and his illusion of her would be shattered.

  I should tell him. I should tell him that I’m not the woman he imagines. Renna’s lips moved, but the words wouldn’t come. Somehow, somewhere, she’d formed her own illusions—that of an old maid becoming a new bride and marrying a pirate.

  Oh, Lord, Renna whispered in silent prayer, this has never happened to me.

  During the course of her nursing career she had taken care of hundreds of men. But maybe she’d grown soft. Maybe Nurse Rutledge had been correct, and she’d become too emotionally involved with her patient.

  She’d have to do something about that.

  With a renewed respect for her position, she finished up her day. She was cool, yet kind; skilled, yet sensitive. But when the time came for her to go home, she couldn’t help giving in to the urge to say good night to her pirate.

  “You’re leaving already?” He seemed disappointed.

  “I’ve been here for twelve hours. I’m afraid I’m tuckered out.”

  He replied with a warm smile. “Go home and get some sleep, then. You deserve it.”

  “Thank you. And don’t forget, my father is coming to visit you tonight. He’s been doing a bit of investigating and has collected a list of the names of persons presumed drowned in Lake Michigan from here all the way north to Green Bay, Wisconsin.”

  “Good. Such a list may help jar my memory loose.”

  “And Dr. Hamilton may be by to see you too,” Renna added. “He had a surgery to perform today, so he didn’t make his rounds earlier.”

  Mr. Blackeyes’s grin turned wry. “I had better get an appointment book.”

  Renna smiled at the quip. “Good night.”

  A pause.

  She stepped closer to his bedside. “Mr. Blackeyes?”

  “I wish you wouldn’t go, Renna.”

  His admission melted her heart. However, she knew she wouldn’t be any good to anyone if she didn’t get some sleep. “I’ll be back.”

  When he didn’t reply, she forced herself to turn and leave the sick ward.

  But all the way home her thoughts were crowded with him, the way he’d touched her hair, her face, her mouth. How could she tell him the truth about her appearance? She glanced upward at the darkening sky and sighed. When he regained his sight, he’d learn it for himself. Until that day came, she could imagine that he was a pirate and she was a beauty.

  NINE

  Thunderstorms and persistent rain filled the next several days. Mr. Blackeyes grew continually stronger and less tolerant of his convalescing. Renna thought it a good sign, although he still couldn’t see and remembered little else except for sketchy details, much to his frustration. Da continued to compile lists of names of men missing in the area, but they did little to help Mr. Blackeyes’s memory.

  By midweek the skies cleared, and Renna formed an idea. A stroll outdoors. It’d be the perfect way to lift Mr. Blackeyes’s spirits. She quickly obtained Dr. Hamilton’s permission, found a sturdy wooden cane, and soon a habit formed. She and her pirate strolled outside for an hour every day for the next few days. As long as Renna had his doctor’s consent, Nurse Thatcher and Nurse Rutledge couldn’t say a word about their daily walks.

  Renna secretly enjoyed being out of the hospital in the middle of the day. The fresh air revitalized her so that she finished out her shift with more energy than she realized she possessed. And the company . . .

  Renna found her pirate to be quite charming, amusing, and, when their conversations turned more serious, he was a confidant. Like this afternoon. He listened patiently while Renna fretted aloud about this evening’s mandatory dinner party.

  “Da rescheduled after Mr. Benchley canceled last week.”

  “You don’t enjoy hosting dinner parties?”

  “Oh, it’s not that. It’s just that my folks, bless their hearts, are quite the matchmakers.”

  Mr. Blackeyes chuckled. “Ah, the real reason finally comes out. I had been wondering why this dinner was such a big deal. Now I understand. You don’t like Benchley.”

&
nbsp; She glanced at him, noting again that his ill-fitted clothing didn’t conceal his good looks. “Well, to be fair to the man, I don’t know him.”

  “But I remember our picnic last week. Benchley frightened you.”

  “No, he just made me feel uncomfortable.” She tugged on Mr. Blackeyes’s arm. “Watch your step.” They crossed the street. When they were safely on the other side, Renna continued. “I don’t want my parents forging a romance for me. When I fall in love, it’ll be a man of my own choosing.” She tried not to think that her heart might have already made its own decision.

  “Ah, you’re a capable woman with a mind of her own.”

  “Exactly. So why must I show up for dinner at home this evening? My parents and Mr. Benchley can have a fine time without me.”

  “Renna, I believe that you’re putting undue pressure on yourself. I was in several matchmaking situations last summer. Men, as you know, aren’t required by society to mourn for a year or more like women—especially if they have children, as I do. ‘Get them remarried quickly’ seems to be the general consensus, and soon after Louisa’s death, my mother plotted and planned one romance after another for me. But even with her meddling, my attitude remained casual at best. I never felt forced into any relationship in spite of my circumstances. I never allowed myself to feel forced.”

  “Hmm . . . ”

  “My point is this: it’s all in the mind, Renna.” His cane scraped the boardwalk.

  She mulled it over, wondering if Mr. Blackeyes was right. Perhaps she had been putting undue pressure on herself. After all, her father would hardly force her to marry. He simply tried to encourage her along those lines.

  Moments later she smiled, realizing that Mr. Blackeyes had just recalled another little piece of his past.

  “So you never fell in love with any of the beautiful women whom you were forced to escort or entertain?” Renna ventured, half teasing, half curious.

  “Never, although I came close. A woman . . . we met at a spring fund-raiser for–for returning soldiers.”

  “You’re remembering.” Renna couldn’t muster enthusiasm.

  “I can’t recall her name.” He gave her hand a squeeze by a mere flex of his arm. “But it’s no matter.”

  “I’m sure she’s beautiful—whoever she is.”

  “Well, what man would pursue a homely female?”

  “None, of course.” The remark caused Renna to be reminded of her birthmark. Sometimes when she was with Mr. Blackeyes, she actually forgot it was there. He treated her like a woman—like a beautiful woman. But what would he think of her if he ever saw it?

  “Besides,” he continued, “love is as real as the fairy tales all those governesses used to read to my children. At least romantic love anyway. I am, however, convinced of another love. The kind a father has for his children.”

  “You’re speaking of yourself?”

  Mr. Blackeyes nodded. “And of God’s love.”

  Renna smiled broadly. She delighted every time Mr. Blackeyes made a spiritual reference. He was growing in Christ, learning more of God’s ways as her father continued to read to him from the Bible.

  “You know, Mr. Blackeyes, you’re not half the pirate you used to be,” Renna remarked with a little laugh.

  A wry grin pulled at his mouth. “Thank you . . . I think.”

  •••

  Once at home that evening, Renna changed from her gray uniform into a fawn-colored dress with large white cuffs. She had decided that Mr. Blackeyes was right and resolved that she would not be “forced” into a relationship with Mr. Benchley. She would, however, try to look her best and be polite to him for her parents’ sake.

  Examining herself in the mirror, Renna smoothed down her skirts and surveyed her birthmark. She tried to imagine what she’d look like without it and decided she’d be beautiful if not for that purplish horseshoe. Then she found herself dreaming of looking differently, feeling differently. Why, she’d be an altogether different person if it weren’t for the ugly thing.

  “Stop it,” she chided her reflection. “This is the way God made you. You’d think after thirty years you’d get used to living with yourself.”

  And maybe if Mr. Blackeyes hadn’t happened along, she wouldn’t care about her appearance.

  Giving herself a mental shake, Renna left her bedroom for the parlor downstairs. Mr. Benchley had already been seated comfortably.

  “Renna, I’m glad you finally made it.” Da stood.

  Mr. Benchley did the same.

  “My daughter is a nurse at the hospital and works much too hard. She finally managed an evening off.”

  “I see.” Benchley gave her a polite bow. “Miss Fields, I am honored by your presence.”

  “Thank you.” The man seemed pretentious to her, although Da was a good judge of character. Why didn’t he see through Matthew Benchley—unless, of course, there was nothing there to see?

  Mum entered the room wearing her best green silk dress. Her amber gaze lit on Renna. “Would you care for tea, dear?”

  “No, but thank you.” Renna sat down in the armchair across from her father. Mum took the place beside him on the settee.

  “How is Mr. Blackeyes today?” Mum inquired.

  “He’s feeling better. The daily walks have improved his spirits greatly. Dr. Hamilton says he’s well enough to leave the hospital. He says Mr. Blackeyes is taking up time and care that should be spent on those sicker than he. Unfortunately, Mr. Blackeyes has no money and nowhere to stay.”

  “What about family?” Benchley interjected, as though such a trifling thing had been overlooked.

  “I think I told you, Matt.” Da’s tone was patient. “Mr. Blackeyes can’t remember who he is and to which family he belongs.”

  “Dr. Hamilton is looking into a temporary home for him.”

  Worry lines creased Da’s brow.

  “What’s wrong?” Renna tipped her head.

  “Oh, nothing.”

  However, he didn’t fool Renna. Something troubled him. Concern weighed on his features until Mum announced that dinner was served.

  Renna took her place across from Matthew Benchley, and her parents were seated at each end of the tastefully decorated dining room table. When all were at their places, Da prayed over the food and they began to eat. Roasted pheasant and all its trimmings were the sumptuous fare tonight, and passing dish after dish, Renna was reminded of a Thanksgiving Day feast, only one of smaller proportions. It wouldn’t be long—just over two months—and the Thanksgiving holiday would be upon them. Renna smiled to herself, thinking of seeing the faces of her darling nieces and nephews.

  “Renna, did you hear what I said?”

  Da’s question brought Renna to the present. “Forgive me. I must have been daydreaming. What did you say?”

  “I said, I’ve figured out the situation with Mr. Blackeyes.”

  “Do tell, Wendell.” Benchley cast him a curious glance.

  “Why, Mr. Blackeyes can live with us.”

  “What?” Renna shook her head. “No, that’s not possible. Mr. Blackeyes is my patient. I can’t take home every patient—”

  “But Mr. Blackeyes is a . . . a special patient. We prayed for him as a family, and now we’re deeply involved in his rehabilitation, both physically and spiritually speaking.”

  “I wouldn’t mind it,” Mum said, “except what would I do with him while you and Renna are at work?”

  A broad grin split Da’s face. “I’ll take Mr. Blackeyes with me to the Chamber of Commerce.”

  “Hmm, the idea does have possibilities,” Benchley concurred. “But what on earth can a blind man do at the Chamber of Commerce, Wendell?”

  “I don’t know.” Da drummed his fingers on the polished tabletop. “I’ll think of something. And I believe that if Mr. Blackeyes were in such an environment as the one we work in, he may get his memory back sooner. As I’ve said all along, I’m sure I’ve seen this man before.”

  “But you can’t remember w
here?” Mr. Benchley dabbed the corners of his mouth with his napkin.

  “No, and it’s most frustrating too.”

  “Renna, dear . . . ” Mum changed the subject. “Perhaps you and Mr. Benchley would like to go for a stroll after dinner.”

  Renna nearly choked on her buttered potatoes, while Benchley gave her mother a shrug. “Certainly. A stroll sounds pleasant enough.”

  Renna’s feet ached at the very idea.

  “What do you say?” Mum smiled.

  Suddenly remembering her promise to herself, she spoke up. “Thank you, but I’m too tired for a stroll tonight, although it was good of Mr. Benchley to agree to take me.”

  He sent her a condescending grin. “I’m still more of a stranger than an acquaintance, aren’t I? Well, I don’t mind taking a few minutes now to introduce myself.”

  “Oh, that would be nice.” Mum sent Renna a mild look of warning. “Where are you originally from?”

  “Michigan, actually. I grew up in a small harbor town right on Lake Michigan. My parents died when I was a boy, and I was raised by my aunt and uncle.” Benchley’s ice gray eyes bore into Renna’s, causing her to look down at her dinner plate. “My uncle Ralph, now deceased, sent me to West Point, and I held a commanding position during the war.”

  “Really?” Da sat back in his chair. “Did you see any action?”

  Benchley nodded. “Served in the cavalry, Fifth Regiment. We assisted in battles and skirmishes along the Mississippi and Tennessee Rivers mostly, although we did some fighting in Georgia too.” He sneered. “Those Rebs were no match for us.”

  “I’m glad the war is over.” Da wagged his head sorrowfully. “So much fighting. So many lives lost.”

  “It’s not over for everyone.” Benchley’s voice sounded strained.

  “I suppose that’s true enough.” Mum’s eyes grew misty. “My son served with an Illinois brigade but returned to us last Christmas unharmed. Many families aren’t as blessed.”

  “He was blessed to have a family to return to, Mrs. Fields. I wasn’t as fortunate. My aunt died while I was gone, then my uncle remarried, and soon after his marriage he passed away as well. I was to have inherited his shipping company, but it seems to be caught in a legal tangle.”