A Nurse for Daniel Read online

  The crowd dissipated fast under his scrutiny. Wagons loaded with luggage, and people, pulled away from the waiting area at a rapid speed, and still, he sat. Where in tarnation was the woman?

  A few minutes later, Arthur appeared, balancing a chest within his grasp and a young filly following behind him, carrying a large duffle bag.

  Daniel felt her silent disapproval before she’d even said hello.

  She dropped her bag at the entrance to the carriage and frowned. “I gather you are the bull-headed, ex-soldier I will be nursing back to health. I just want to say thank you for the wonderful reception you have provided.” The sarcastic words fired across the two feet separating them.

  He transferred his weight to the far side of the carriage and patted the cushioned seat across from him. “Feel free to sit—it’s a long walk to the plantation.”

  She had thrown her bag on the floor and started to climb in when Arthur rushed up behind her. “Take my hand, miss, to balance you.”

  “Why, thank you. Now there is some of that Kentucky hospitality I’ve been told about.”

  When Arthur took his place in the driver’s seat, Daniel leaned over and whispered, “It’s his job, nurse Gwen. It has nothing to do with hospitality.”

  The carriage lurched forward, and they were on their way. Daniel preoccupied himself with watching the scenery pass while Gwendolyn studied his face. He forced his features to appear domineering—so far, so good.

  She was quiet and unobtrusive. He had to admit that he’d admired her spunk back at the station. She seemed to be a woman of few words, but one who commanded a presence. Too bad his first impression didn’t last.

  “I’ve never been to Kentucky before,” her girly-chatter suddenly invaded his ears. “I so enjoyed viewing the changing landscape. The hills and trees created a breathtaking back-drop. During my ride here, I was reminded of Maryland. The Eastern Shore where the nursing school is located is almost completely on flat land, but farther west, beyond Chesapeake Bay, the terrain offered a few hills, and the farther the train traveled toward Kentucky, the bigger and grander they became.”

  Gwendolyn seemed unaffected when he raised his brows as if to say, who cares? It did not stop the spiel. “The same stretches of flat, fertile land are here, and I feel at home already.”

  “Really?” Daniel studied her. “I don’t want you here, and that makes you feel at home?”

  “My peace and contentment do not hinge on your approval, Mr. McAlister. God has ordained me to be here, and I am. We will both adjust.”

  “I don’t understand you woman—were you taught by Florence Nightingale?”

  “Don’t be silly,” she said. “I’ve never been to Florence, Italy, but I did study her great accomplishments in the field of nursing and can only hope I’m found worthy to walk in her footsteps.”

  “Give me a break,” he muttered under his breath.

  “A break, sir? What of the poor souls who did not return home from the battlefield? You dishonor them by entertaining your pity party.”

  “I wish I’d died.”

  “And now you dishonor God who created you for His purposes. Obviously, he is not finished with you, and the longer you persist with this attitude, the shorter time you will have to complete his will through you.”

  “A nurse, a missionary, and a philosopher—have I missed any of your attributes, woman?”

  “My name is Gwendolyn Peters, and I would appreciate you addressing me as such.”

  “How about Nurse Gwen? I like to keep things simple.”

  “As you wish.” She turned away from him, and her face relaxed as it took in the acres of planted fields, where short sprigs of plants peeked their nose our of the spring earth to bask in the heat of the sun. Daniel tried to view his family’s land through her eyes for her eager countenance in her surroundings left him spellbound.

  “What do you find so remarkable about a cotton field? I don’t see anything great about a pile of dirt.”

  Gwen called to the driver. “Stop the carriage, please?”

  “What?” Daniel objected.

  She didn’t wait for his approval and scampered off the seat and onto the ground before he could wrap his head around her impulsive stop. Gwen deposited her hands on her hips and glared at Daniel. “Mr. McAlister—you have been given strict orders to exercise regularly by the doctor. Is it a part of your routine, or do you simply let someone drive you everywhere you want to go?”

  “You’re meddling, woman,” Daniel seethed.

  “Nurse Gwen—surely your mind functions in the present.”

  “It does.” He jumped down. As his feet hit the ground with a thump, his face contorted, and he fumed at showing her his weakness.

  “Jumping without a thought to your limitations is not good practice, sir.”

  “You don’t need to remind me I’m a cripple.” His voice rose as he spoke, and his fists clenched at his sides.

  “You are far from a cripple—I’ve seen many of those during the war—but you are a man who has not accepted his physical restrictions and choose instead to wallow in self-pity.” She stood tall and held his stare. “Exercise will keep the limbs supple and keep you from becoming an old man before your time.”

  “You need to know that I did not want you here.”

  “I believe you have mentioned that before, and personally, I don’t care. Your father has hired me to do a job, and I never back down from a challenge.”

  “So, that’s what I’ve become: a challenge?”

  “At your own hand, sir.” She picked up her skirts to keep the hem off the ground. “Follow me.” He watched her for a minute until she glanced back to see if he’d obeyed her order. “This way,” she persisted, sweeping her arm forward. When he noticed she’d reach the boundary of the north field, he grabbed his cane and hurried to catch up.

  She was bent over a new plant but stood when he joined her. “Mr. McAlister, do you see all these green shoots sprouting from the rich black earth?”

  “Sure. It’s called a crop.”

  “Yes, but will it grow without turning the soil, planting the seed, the sun, the rain, and the hands of good men to harvest it? What if that little seed said, ‘I don’t feel like leaving the comfortable warm earth to become what I was meant to be? What if it just laid in the ground and never reached for the life-giving rays or allowed the sweet rain to feed its appetite? What if…”

  “All right, Nurse Gwen. You’ve made your point. I’ll add exercise to my daily routine.”

  “And how about a different attitude, one that shows gratitude to God that you are still alive and ready to do His service?”

  “You drive a hard bargain,” Daniel said, “and we haven’t even reached home yet.”

  “Home, Mr. McAlister, is where the heart is. Perhaps we shall find yours in the ruins of this war-torn world in which the Civil War has left us.”

  “Perhaps.” Daniel could not stop his lips from curling at the sides. He hadn’t bargained for a spit-fire little nurse who did not know the meaning of backing down. His father would teach her what that meant if she ever got uppity with him. “My name is Daniel. I’d appreciate it if you call me that. The title of mister belongs to the rightful owner of this plantation.”

  Gwen smiled, but he saw concern lurking behind her eyes. Why should she care if he considered this his home or not? He supposed it came with a nurse’s heart, which had unhinged him at the core. Daniel wished the school had sent an old, bitter maid to live in the cottage beside him, a tyrant he could manage and keep her under his thumb would have been much easier.

  Daniel noted the glow on Gwen’s face streaming through the guise of innocence. Her easy-pat solutions to life’s dilemmas bounced around a huge target but hit the bullseye in one’s soul, where it counted, which was another matter altogether. His insides felt dead. The young, protected maiden had no idea of the scars he carried. Strangely, neither did he. Perhaps he should consider his memory loss a blessing. Yet, to have his ident
ity ripped from his consciousness was proving too much to bear. Daniel’s dreams danced around the secrets of his past every night and managed to keep his distinctiveness buried in a deep grave, one from which he could not climb free.

  Chapter 3

  The carriage deposited Gwen at the front door of a quaint cottage next to the main chalet where her patient lived. Arthur proceeded to drag her belongings onto the porch. He unlocked the door and handed her the key before dragging the chest and bag the rest of the way inside. Daniel disappeared behind a door to the left of hers and closed it firmly, leaving the driver to manage the hefty load himself. She stroked “gentleman” off the young McAlister’s list of attributes.

  “Thank you, Arthur,” she said when she saw a sweat break out on his face. “May I pour you a glass of cold water?” She had no idea if she had access to an indoor pump, but she offered anyway.

  “That would be appreciated.”

  She hurried to peek into another room, and sure enough, she spotted a galley kitchen on the far side. Once inside the work space, she called back to Arthur, “Yes, we do have water. Please, come and sit for a moment before you return to your duties.”

  Arthur left the entrance way and followed her into the main room, standing beside the table while he gulped the cool liquid she provided. When he passed her the glass, she said, “Let me refill it. You have a powerful thirst.”

  “Yes, miss.”

  Gwen noticed a shadow behind the house servant’s dark eyes. His skin was colored, and she wondered why he hadn’t hit the road with the freed slaves at the end of the war to flee the prejudices of their previous owners. Boldness prevailed, and she asked as he set the empty glass on the table, “Arthur, have you worked for the McAlisters long?”

  “My entire life. Went off and joined the Union army for a spell but got homesick. The family treats me decent.”

  “I noticed your concern for Daniel—are you two friends?”

  “Used to be…sort of. The senior Mr. McAlister never knew when we sneaked off.”

  “Ah, a secret friendship from before the war. When you were still under bondage?”

  “Yes, miss.” He moved toward the door and she followed.

  “It must hurt you that Daniel can’t recall your childhood relationship.”

  “I’ve adjusted.”

  “Yet you stay and endure the silent pain,” she said.

  Arthur turned and surveyed Gwen. “You learn how to study people in that nursing school?”

  She laughed. “Afraid it comes naturally, and it has gotten me into trouble in the past. I hope you are not offended.”

  “Quite the opposite. With you looking out for Daniel, there just might be hope—despite his self-bashing.”

  “Perhaps you can come sit on the porch this evening and enlighten me as to my new charge. Any and all recollections I can use to stimulate his mind will aid me in my work here.”

  “Wouldn’t be proper for me to come front porch sitting, miss.”

  “You are talking like a slave and not a free man who has time off in the evenings to do as he pleases.”

  “Force of habit.”

  “One that needs breaking,” she said. “Please, I have brought candy from Maryland, and I will check the supplies left in my cupboard for refreshments. When do you finish work?”

  “Seven, miss.”

  “Then, I shall expect you shortly after. It will still be daylight, and we shall get acquainted.”

  “Does anyone ever say no to you, Nurse Gwen?”

  “No one that has survived the aftermath,” she said, chuckling. “My brothers learned to submit after they discovered the hard way that I would not back down.”

  “I pray the young master will do likewise. I miss my friend.” He turned and left the cottage.

  Gwen took some time to wander around her new home. It was bright, and the smell of the blooming redbuds in the yard blew in from the open windows. A welcoming bouquet of freshly-cut flowers sat in the center of the table. After the long, dreary train ride, she considered the touch of nature to be a thoughtful gesture from her new employers, and she appreciated it. She’d have to thank the mistress of McAlister Plantation for her kindness.

  She noticed a small note amongst the flowers. Gwen opened it and read: “I’m sure you need time to settle in and relax after your journey. Plan to come to the big house with Daniel for lunch tomorrow, and afterward, we will discuss your terms of employment. Sleep well, Nurse Peters. Mrs. McAlister.” That was a relief, for fatigue was fast-consuming Gwen, and she feared that she might collapse when she stopped moving.

  The sitting room and dining area were one big room, and behind saloon-type swinging doors was a totally functional kitchen. The cupboards were stacked with beautiful dishes, and she paused to admire the flowery-edged pattern—the scavenging of elegant table settings had been her hobby when she had nothing else to occupy her time. A black cookstove sat against one wall, and on the other, a full-length counter space. Inside the pantry, she found food staples and extras on shelves, and in the icebox, caches of meat and dairy products. It appeared she was expected to prepare her own food and eat alone. As it should be, she concluded.

  In the back, she discovered two bedrooms: one rather large—which she claimed as her own—and the other slightly smaller. Between the two rooms was a hallway offering storage shelves, which led to a bathroom beyond, tucked a short distance away in a pleasantly decorated back shed. A bathtub and a washing station occupied the left side of the room, and Gwen decided she’d test it out that night after Arthur left. On the right, behind a closed door sat a newly fashioned toilet with a bag of lime to keep it smelling fresh, and a curtained window to help the room’s ventilation.

  Back at the entranceway, she opened the chest and began to take armloads into the bedroom. She emptied the trunk of its dresses, unwrapping them from the protective layers and arranging them on the bed. The box of shoes was the first of her things to go inside the enormous wardrobe, and each gown was carefully hung from the high rung. She opened a case and brought out the simpler-styled outfits she’d chosen for work, the white bib-aprons, and one nurse’s cap. Gwen doubted she’d be expected to wear it around the plantation, but if she accompanied Daniel to town, it might be appropriate attire that would define her presence by his side.

  She had no doubt the females would soon line up outside his door—if they weren’t already—hoping for an invitation to court. The man appeared to be well past marrying age, but there had been many soldiers that had delayed taking that trip to the altar until after the war—stolen years that had robbed them of playing the field. She suspected Daniel fell into that category. Gwen supposed that the years at war, plus the time spent hiding out, had provided little motivation or desire to secure a wife for a plantation he showed no interest in inheriting.

  His love life was none of her business, but his health was. Nurse Gwen would stick to her area of expertise and leave him to the she-predators that would eventually discover the McAllister son’s availability.

  The closet held everything Gwen owned easily, and she shut the door with satisfaction and returned to the main part of her room. Not only did it house a four-poster double bed with fluffy pillows and a colorful spread, but two end tables sat on either side of the oak headboard, each with an elegant lantern on top. On the outside wall, a stone fireplace stretched to the ceiling, which would come in handy if she were still there in the fall. On top of the polished wood floor lay an oriental rug and two cozy chairs with a round table between them to complete the décor. A black, leather Bible sat in the middle of the table beside another lantern creating an inviting place to do her nightly readings. Once again, she felt the aura of a pleasant homecoming sweep over her, and she prayed that she was not premature in her love for the place.

  The empty trunk and cases were easy to shove down the hall. After opening the door wide, she pushed them against the wall for storage.

  She sighed—time for a cup of tea and a light supper
. In the kitchen, she decided to skip the hot drink to avoid the need to turn on the stove. Gwen stirred a pitcher of cold lemonade and placed nibbles of cheese, bread, homemade jam, and pickles on the plate. A custard pie enticed her, but she decided to wait and have a piece with Arthur when he arrived.

  Gwen was sitting snuggled in a light wrap on the porch when her guest arrived. “Arthur,” she said, “I began to fear you wouldn’t show.”

  “Sorry to be late. The master kept me after supper, running for one thing or another.”

  “Why do you still call him master? The law says you are free and the only one who deserves that allegiance is our Heavenly King.”

  “Probably just a habit. Not sure what else to call a man who pays for my services.”

  “Mr. McAlister or sir, is adequate,” Gwen said.

  “I’ll try to remember, for I am eternally grateful to be free of the lifestyle my ancestors endured for generations.”

  “Amen. I am a believer in a man’s right to be free, no matter the color of his skin or the blood that runs in his veins.”

  Arthur grinned. “You have not met your employer yet, have you?”

  Gwen was taken aback. “I suppose I haven’t, but I don’t see how that makes a difference in my beliefs.”

  Arthur nodded toward her glass of lemonade. “Wouldn’t say no to a taste of that cool drink.”

  Gwen jumped to her feet. “Of course. And I have something for your sweet tooth, as well. Sit in the rocking chair, and I will return shortly.”

  Five minutes later, she called out, “Will you open the door? I have my hands full.”

  His eyes rounded at the sight of the candy on the side of his plate. “Now, that is a grand surprise. Haven’t enjoyed stick candy for quite a spell. And yummy pie. You are surely spoiling me, Nurse Gwen.”

  She set the tray down and handed him a plate. She held his eye a moment and gave in to her curiosity again. “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”