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Cause of Conflict (Nurses of New York Book 2)

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by Amelia C. Adams




  Cause of Conflict

  Nurses of New York #2

  by Amelia C. Adams

  To my daughter, who knows what is right and defends it every day.

  My thanks to my beta readers—Cissie, Erin, Mary, Nancy, and Tracy. You’re the best.

  Huge thanks to my fans and the members of my street team as well!

  Table of Contents:

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sneak Peek

  Chapter One

  New York

  1875

  Sophie Jones rolled over in bed, unable to sleep. The day had been long and tiring—she’d helped Dr. Wentworth set a broken arm that afternoon for a little girl who sobbed piteously the whole time, then vomited on the floor. If there was anything in the world Sophie hated, it was cleaning up vomit. However, there was very little about being a nurse that was actually pleasant, and as Dr. Wentworth reminded her, she might as well just get used to it because it wasn’t going to change.

  However, that’s not what was keeping Sophie awake. All the students had received their assignments for the next day, and she would be assisting Dr. Gregory. She sighed. Dr. Gregory with his dark brown eyes, his air of confidence, the way he walked—Sophie didn’t know how she was going to concentrate on nursing. She was likely to spend all her time staring at the doctor.

  She rolled over again, this time whacking her knuckles against the wall. She seemed to do that once or twice a night, but she couldn’t help it—she’d never slept in a bed in the corner before, and her arms did have a tendency to fly out of their own accord. There had to be something she could do about it. Sitting up in bed, she looked around the room by the light of the moon that shone in through the window. There was plenty of extra space—why it hadn’t been used to its full potential, she didn’t know. Well, it was time to remedy that.

  “Jeanette.” She nudged her roommate’s shoulder.

  “Hmm?”

  “Wake up. I need your help.”

  Jeanette rolled over and looked at her, eyes bleary and her blonde hair matted down on one side. “What’s the matter?”

  “We need to rearrange the furniture.”

  Jeanette blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

  Sophie bounced a little where she sat, very pleased with her solution to the problem. “We need to rearrange the furniture. I keep hitting my knuckles on the wall.”

  Jeanette went up on one elbow. “Do you realize what kind of day I’ve had? I scrubbed three tubs full of soiled linen, assisted in two surgeries, and when I got home tonight, I had to wash blood out of my hair. Blood, Sophie. Out of my hair. Please don’t make me rearrange furniture in the middle of the night.”

  Jeanette did look very tired, and Sophie felt contrite for suggesting it. “Oh, all right. I’m sorry. Yes, you rest. You don’t have to help me.” She pondered for a minute. “Why don’t you go sit in the chair by the window, and when I’m done, you can come back to bed?”

  Jeanette opened her eyes again. “You’re going to move this bed by yourself?”

  “You said you were too tired to help me. It’s all right—I’ll take care of it.”

  Jeanette gave her one of those looks, the kind she was used to seeing whenever someone disapproved of one of her ideas. “Sophie, this bed is made of cherry. It’s not light. There’s no possible way you’d be able to do it.”

  “That’s why I asked you.” Sophie batted her eyelashes at her friend. That usually worked when someone looked at her disapprovingly.

  Jeanette sighed. “You realize this should wait until morning, don’t you? That getting out of bed to rearrange the room is a bit foolish?”

  “I don’t see what’s foolish about it. I can’t sleep, and now you’re awake, and there’s no time like the present. We have classes tomorrow, plus our assignments, and who knows when we’d get to it.” She bounced again. It really was a very good idea, if she could just get Jeanette to see that. “Come on—and once we’re done, you won’t have to endure me climbing over you in the mornings. We’ll each be able to get out our own side.” She grinned. She was wearing Jeanette down—she could see it.

  “Is there nothing I can say to change your mind?” There it was—the note of resignation she’d been waiting for.

  “Not a thing,” Sophie said cheerfully. “My mind is made up. Come on now—out you go. I’m ready to get up.”

  With a heave and a grumble, Jeanette slid out of bed, and Sophie was right behind her. “If we move the bed this way about three feet, that will solve everything,” Sophie said.

  “What about the wash basin?”

  “Oh, that’s the best part.” Sophie clasped her hands together. “It can go over there, by the wardrobe, where it should have been all along. It just makes so much more sense to wash and dress in the same area of the room, don’t you think?”

  “When I’ve had some sleep and am able to think, I’m sure that will seem like a very good plan indeed,” Jeanette replied after stifling a yawn. “However, we just discussed the fact that I’m very tired, so no, right now, I’m not impressed at all.”

  “You will be. Trust me.” Sophie walked over to the wash basin and began gathering up the soaps and towels from the shelf below the basin. “You come move the pitcher, and then together, we can lift the basin and carry it over.”

  Jeanette sighed. “Fine. But then may I go back to sleep?”

  “After we move the bed, silly.” Jeanette really wasn’t paying attention, was she?

  “Oh, that’s right. How could I have forgotten the bed? The object of this entire exercise in dragging me out of bed?”

  Sophie shook her head. Her roommate could be so grumpy sometimes.

  A few minutes later, the wash basin stood over by the wardrobe. “Now, isn’t that better?” Sophie asked, standing back to survey her handiwork.

  “It’s very nice. Now, let’s move the bed please—I really can’t stay awake any longer.”

  The two girls walked over to the bed, took hold of the frame, and began to pull. They leaned back and put their weight into it, but it wouldn’t budge one inch.

  “This is heavier than I thought,” Jeanette said. “Well, we tried. Back to bed with us.”

  “No, no.” Sophie shook her head, making her curls bounce. “There’s got to be another way.”

  “How about waiting until morning and then asking Mrs. Everett who she usually calls in to help with things like this?”

  Sophie cocked her head to the side. “You’d call someone in to do a task we could easily do ourselves?”

  Jeanette looked at her with exasperation. “This is not an easy task, Sophie! This is a giant, heavy bed, and we can’t move it. Why don’t you just . . . stop hitting your knuckles on the wall?”

  “If it were that easy, I would stop it at once!” Why couldn’t Jeanette see how simple this solution really was?

  “What’s going on in here?”

  Sophie turned and saw Meg and Phoebe peeking in the doorway. “I’m sorry. Did we wake you up?”

  “Oh, no. It’s very common to hear loud voices in the middle of the night,” Meg said, fixing Sophie with a pointed look.

  “I didn’t realize we were being loud. We were just discussing furniture rearrangement,” Sophie said, feeling embarrassed. She should have realized they’d be overheard—Meg and Phoeb
e’s room was right next to theirs.

  “Why were you discussing that in the middle of the night?” Phoebe asked, looking confused, as though it were in some way unusual.

  “Never mind.” Jeanette walked over toward the bed. “It’s nothing. We’re sorry we disturbed you.”

  “No! Don’t lie down!” Sophie caught Jeanette’s shoulders. “They can help us.”

  “You want us to help you rearrange the furniture? I don’t think so,” Meg said, giving a pretend sniff. “I don’t do things like that. My father has people come in and do things like that for us.”

  Sophie very much disliked Meg’s pretend sniffs.

  “Sophie doesn’t care for that idea,” Jeanette said, sounding overly patient. “She wants to do it herself.”

  Meg sighed. “And I suppose we don’t get another moment’s sleep until it’s done?”

  “Exactly! So, will you help?” Sophie asked, looking back and forth between Meg and Phoebe expectantly.

  Meg heaved a dramatic sigh. “Very well, but if we’re all too exhausted to work well tomorrow, I’ll tell everyone that you’re too blame.”

  Sophie laughed. “We’ll all be just fine tomorrow. Now help us pull.”

  With four girls on the job instead of just two, this time the bed did move, and was soon right where Sophie wanted it.

  “Now, see how nice this is? We can each get in and out without disturbing each other.”

  “Yes. It’s lovely. Goodnight.” Jeanette flopped back down on the bed, not bothering with the coverlet.

  “I’m sure the floor is just covered with dust balls now,” Phoebe said, looking down distastefully. “You know how those things love to collect under beds and blow out at the slightest draft.”

  Sophie checked, but there was nothing. “Mrs. Everett is the best housekeeper in the world. The floor’s spotless.”

  “Come on, Phoebe. If we fall asleep right now, we can get three more hours before we have to be up,” Meg said, and the two girls disappeared down the hallway.

  Sophie climbed in as well, delighted that she no longer had to climb over Jeanette, and got herself settled. As an experiment, she flung out her arm and came nowhere near the wall. Perfect. Now if she could stop thinking about Dr. Gregory, everything would be just right.

  ***

  “It’s the strangest thing,” Miss Cantrell said at breakfast the next morning, her voice full of innocent wonder. “I dreamed someone was dragging furniture around in their room.”

  “Oh?” Dr. Russell looked up from his coffee cup and raised an eyebrow. “That’s an odd dream to have.”

  “Yes. I wondered if you might analyze it for me, Doctor. I’ve never dreamed anything like that before.”

  Sophie studied her plate, sure that her face was bright red. She hadn’t thought her actions so very odd the night before, but now, at breakfast, over eggs and toast, she could see that maybe she had done something strange.

  “Certainly. It could be that you’re feeling the desire for change, that you’re no longer satisfied with your current position in life.” He looked at Miss Cantrell curiously. “Is that true? Do you wish you were somewhere else?”

  “No!” she replied loudly. “I mean, I’m very content here. I can’t imagine working anywhere else.”

  “It wasn’t a dream,” Sophie said miserably. “I woke everyone up and made them help me move the bed last night. I’m sorry, and it won’t happen again. Please don’t even think about leaving, Miss Cantrell. We need you here.”

  She looked up and caught a glimmer of merriment in Miss Cantrell’s eyes. “I’m just having some fun with you, Sophie. I didn’t have a dream—the noise woke me up, and I spied on you from the hallway. Why on earth were you moving your room around in the middle of the night?”

  “I . . .” How could she begin to explain it? It wasn’t logical, and Miss Cantrell was a logical woman. “I just thought I’d sleep better,” she murmured.

  Miss Cantrell smiled. “Well, I hope it works. If you’re not sleeping well, that can take a toll on your health.” She finished the last bit of her coffee, patted her mouth with her napkin, and then rose. Dr. Russell stood as well—he was such a gentleman. “If everyone is finished, let’s move on to the parlor. We have many things to discuss before I send you out on your assignments this afternoon. Plus, Dr. Russell has consented to join us for a lecture on the musculature of the face.”

  As they walked into the parlor, Sophie whispered to Jeanette, “I didn’t think Miss Cantrell knew how to tell a joke. She had me nearly scared out of my wits, thinking she wanted to leave us. Where would we be then?”

  “She has quite a good sense of humor. She just doesn’t get to use it very often because her work is so serious,” Jeanette replied.

  “That’s dreadful. I don’t think I could live in a world that forced me to be so practical all the time.” Sophie all but shuddered.

  “Then you’d probably never aspire to becoming a head nurse.”

  Once everyone was seated, Miss Cantrell began. “As you know, we are very blessed to have Dr. Russell as our mentor. He’s on the leading edge of medicine in the United States, and as he shares with us the latest findings, we can be sure that we’re being given a world-class education. Dr. Russell, the time is now yours.” She took a seat, and all the students turned toward the front of the room expectantly.

  “Good morning, ladies,” Dr. Russell addressed them, taking up a position at the front of the room. “Thank you for taking the time to meet with me. I’ve had a few interesting cases as of late that I thought I’d share with you, as I found them quite fascinating. Yesterday, a woman came into the hospital who had, unfortunately, been attacked by her fiancé. He believed she was using her beauty to attract other men, and he became so drunk and so enraged that he went after her face with a knife.”

  Several of the girls murmured in sympathy.

  “It is a very sad case, to be sure. In fact, I believe Tess has an assignment with me this afternoon, so this lecture will prepare her for the day’s tasks.”

  Tess had a look of unfettered anticipation in her eyes. Of all the girls in the program, she seemed to be the most enthusiastic about everything they were being taught. Sophie had never even heard her complain about cleaning up vomit. That was a sure sign of commitment to the cause.

  “This young woman’s face has been badly lacerated. The most severe cut affected her orbicularis oris, which is the muscle that surrounds the mouth. It controls everything the mouth does, from talking to pursing your lips to kissing. In fact, some even call it the kissing muscle. In our patient, it has been cut nearly clean through, making it very difficult for her to drink or eat.”

  Sophie was aghast that anyone could do such a horrible thing to someone else. But suddenly, she found herself giggling. Millie turned to her with a scowl, but she couldn’t seem to stop. It was probably the lack of sleep.

  Dr. Russell paused midsentence. “Miss Jones, may I ask what you find so amusing?”

  He had started calling them by their given names the previous week as a sign of camaraderie. At hearing her full name, Sophie knew she was in trouble, and she tried very hard to bring herself back into focus.

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Russell. I’m quite all right now.”

  “I’m not all right, because I don’t know what you were laughing about. Would you please enlighten me?”

  “I just . . . you said it was the kissing muscle, and that got me thinking about my first kiss, which was really quite an embarrassment for me, and I’m afraid my mind wandered away from the lesson. I’m sorry, Dr. Russell. I know your time is valuable, and I shouldn’t waste it.”

  “Quite right.” He gave her a severe look, which didn’t suit his handsome features, and then he moved on. Sophie slid down in her chair, feeling as though she were eight years old again and being scolded by her grandfather for laughing in church. She couldn’t help it that time, either—Davy Knight was making faces at her from across the aisle. Probably using the orbicula
ris oris muscle. She couldn’t help it—she giggled again, but she smothered it with a cough.

  She was quite relieved when the lecture was over and Mrs. Everett announced that it was time for lunch. Some extra coffee with her meal might help her shake off the remnants of sleepiness and help her get in the correct frame of mind for her work that afternoon. Her work with Dr. Gregory. She smiled as she forked up a piece of potato—she’d never been so excited about an assignment.

  As soon as lunch was over, she was out of her chair and up the stairs like a shot, making sure that her dress and hair were still neat. She studied herself in the mirror, batting her eyelashes and then practicing her smile.

  “I honestly don’t know what to do with you,” Jeanette said from behind her.

  “I don’t know what you mean.” Sophie turned around with an innocent look on her face. “I just want to be sure that I look my very best for my patients.”

  “That you look your very best for the doctor, you mean.” Jeanette shook her head. “You haven’t worked with Dr. Gregory yet, so you don’t know—I don’t mean to disappoint you, but he’s a very difficult man.”

  “I’ve worked with difficult men before,” Sophie said. “I’m sure we’ll get along well.”

  Jeanette reached out and caught her arm. “I mean, I don’t want you to be heartbroken. I know you like him.”

  “I’m sure everyone in this house knows I like him.” Sophie chuckled. “That’s one of my many flaws—I can’t keep a secret for the life of me.” She patted Jeanette’s hand. “Thank you for caring, but I’ll be all right. We’ll figure out a way to work together, and then we’ll see where that leads.” She grinned. “I’ve always thought it would be wonderful to be a doctor’s wife.”

  Jeanette shook her head. “Is that why you’re going to nursing school? To meet a doctor?”

  “No, but you have to admit, it wouldn’t be a bad way to go about it.”

  Jeanette sat down on the edge of the bed. “So, do I get to hear the story of this embarrassing first kiss of yours?”

  “Of course you do!” Sophie plunked down on the other side and settled in to begin her narrative. “You remember my telling you about Elmer Tompkins, and how my father wants me to marry him? Well, he told Elmer it was all arranged. This was at a Sunday picnic this last spring. Just imagine—the pastor is there, all the members of the choir, all the dear little old ladies, and Elmer comes running up to me, grabs me, and kisses me. In front of everyone. I was so startled, I just stood there like some sort of carving, with no idea what was happening. When Elmer finally let me go, he told me we were engaged, and I had to tell him—in front of everyone—that we were not.”

 

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