A Nurse for Walter Read online

“You’re a minute late.” His pronouncement killed any sign of the grin, but he did lean back in his leather chair, drop his pen, and pick up a file. “Nurse Tyre—I was expecting you. Please, sit.” He motioned to a chair and watched her with a mix of irritation and interest as she navigated her gown to fit her backside down onto the armed chair he provided.

  “I hope your work clothes are more suitable.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Your file is quite detailed, graduated with high marks, and a favorable letter from the administration at the Harrow School of Nursing was included. I see no reason why we can’t give you a try.” He studied Shannon and when she squirmed and broke eye contact, he continued. “I run a tight ship, Nurse Tyre—or would you prefer to be called by your first name?”

  “Nurse Shannon, please.”

  “Fine. I’m going on the floor at one o’clock today and will give you a working tour. Can you be ready to begin with such short notice? Some of the staff are off sick with the fall flu and I would appreciate the help.”

  “One o’clock is fine, Dr. Franssen.”

  He closed her file, stood to his feet and reached out his hand. She clasped his hard and thought she saw that hint of a grin peeking out from his lips. “I will wait here for you then, Nurse Shannon. Come prepared to work.”

  “You can rest assured that every time I enter the hospital for work, I will give it my all,” she said. “You need not fear I will shirk my duties in any way.”

  “Good to know.” He exhaled deeply and sat back down. “Now if I could just find someone as reliable to tackle all this paperwork, my life would be near perfect.”

  When he picked up his pen, Shannon took that as her cue to leave, turning abruptly and nearly tripping over the leg of the chair when her dress would not give way. She grabbed the engraved back of the wooden chair, which served to correct her balance, and turned to see Dr. Franssen regarding her clumsiness. “Thank heaven for the ease of nursing attire. Have a good morning, sir.”

  Even after her first blunder, displayed in front of her boss, Shannon had to refrain from skipping like a school girl all the way back to the boarding house. The hospital was more than she dreamed possible and the man showing her the ropes was not bad to look at either. The picture of him, holding the injured woman on the platform at the train depot wearing such concern for her welfare upon his face, warned her fickle heart to take note. Entertaining such fleeting thought would only lead to disaster. She was here to begin an exciting career in medicine, not hunt for a husband, who would no doubt end her vocation abruptly after he got her to the altar.

  Shannon was no sooner in the door when Molly came rushing toward her. “How did it go? I’ve been bombarding heaven for you.”

  “Thank you for your prayers,” Shannon said, wishing that she’d experienced this response from her own mother instead of the constant negativity she was so famous for. When she’d began to mentally compare Molly with her mother, Shannon didn’t know, but it comforted her to know the middle-aged woman, in Maple Grove, supported her dreams. “All went very well, indeed, and I start my first shift at one o’clock this afternoon.”

  “One o’clock!” she shrieked. “Landsakes, girl, I best get lunch on for you while you change your clothes.” Before she turned toward the kitchen she winked, “Did the good doctor like your dress?”

  “As a matter of fact, he did remark, but it was not what you expected. I think he prefers women fitted in their nursing attire.”

  “Men,” Molly muttered as she hurried off to the kitchen.

  In her room upstairs, Shannon shed the cumbersome dress and crinolines, bringing out one of three simple styles a tailor had designed for her in Maryland. The one she chose was russet with white trim on the collar and cuffs, which would enhance the stark white bib apron that covered her at the front and tied with straps around her back. From a hat box she took out her cap and fastened it carefully with pins into her upsweep. She scanned her image in the mirror and smiled at the professionalism she portrayed. The first day of her new life felt every bit as exciting as she’d imagined.

  She managed to chew and swallow the egg salad sandwich Molly threw together, munched on sweet pickles, and let the cool creamy pudding slide down her throat, only because she knew she’d need her strength and did not want to faint from hunger if the doctor did not stop for the supper hour.

  “I forgot to ask when I’d be finished at the hospital, so don’t wait supper on me.”

  “There will be a plate in the warming oven if you come in late,” Molly said.

  “Thank you,” Shannon said, “and don’t let up on those prayers.”

  Shannon stepped lively as she passed through the main business section of the town then started down Franssen Street, an entire block of land monopolized by the hospital building, a green space for patients and staff to enjoy, a small private livery housing horses, a few buggies, and an ambulance, like the one she’d seen at the train station, to transport patients.

  She tackled the steps easier this time and landed in front of Dr. Franssen’s office with two minutes to spare. She lingered in the foyer, and within seconds his door burst open, and as he scanned the area, she noted relief flood his face upon spotting her.

  “Glad to see you are punctual. We have an emergency. Follow me.”

  Shannon had to sprint to keep up with his long strides. They went to the second floor and he pushed through a swinging door. The long hall was bright and the odd nurse and doctor jumped from room to room in almost frantic mode.

  “What is the emergency, sir?”

  “The patient who came in yesterday,” he talked over his shoulder as he continued down the hall. “We operated on her but when she did not regain consciousness all night, we became concerned.” He glanced back. “I’m told now that she is thrashing around in her bed and they’ve had to restrain her.”

  He turned into room 223 and Shannon was on his heels, uncertain as to what he’d expect her to do. Whatever he required; she’d be ready. When the patient’s bed came into view, she halted and gasped. It was the woman at the train station—the one the head physician had held in his arms and escorted to the hospital.

  Chapter 3

  The nurse presently bent over the patient appeared irritated and ready to swat the woman into silence at any minute. When she noticed Dr. Franssen had entered the room her face went beat red. Her behavior lacked good form and compassion and she’d been caught.

  “She is delirious, Doctor, and will not settle,” she attempted to spout excuses. “We needed to tie her down or knock her out again.”

  “I’m the doctor, Nurse Shelby, and we will not be knocking her out. Go somewhere and get a grip on yourself.”

  He moved to the bed and gripped the girl’s hand. “Anna, you must relax. Tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.”

  Shannon stood silently watching from the bottom of the bed and observed a combination of confusion and anxiety on the man’s face. He held her firmly with one hand while struggling to listen to her heart with the stethoscope. He examined her throat, felt her forehead, and only after he checked the incision, he groaned.

  “Her leg is infected.”

  “Where do you keep the dressings Doctor?” Shannon asked.

  “There is a storage room located in the middle on every floor. We passed it on the way to the room.”

  “I’ll get the supplies.” Shannon hurried, passing many doors to rooms filled with patients, until finally stopping at one labeled, “Storage”.

  Inside she rummaged on shelves, locating the items she needed, then rushed back to the patient in room 223. Dr. Franssen took the tray and nodded his appreciation. “Thank you, Nurse Shannon. Do you think you can calm her so I can dress this wound?”

  “I’ll try.” Shannon noticed the woman was humming a hymn between her outbursts. Music was healing to the mind and she hoped that today it would bring this distraught woman some peace. She went to the top of the bed and bent low over the patient, and up
on recognition of the chopped melody of “River of Peace,” Shannon began to hum along. Even while the woman jerked and her eyes blazed like fire, their gaze held without wavering. Shannon bent closer bending and sang the soothing words to the chorus into her ears.

  Immersed in her efforts, Shannon startled when she heard the doctor’s voice. “Thank you, Nurse Shannon. I’m finished now.”

  She pushed upward catching her pocket on the bed railing which upset her balance. On the way to the floor, she scolded herself for the gracelessness of her tumble. Dr. Franssen was by her side in an instant, and when he saw she was all right, offered a hand to help her up. Upon standing, she stared into his face, and this time the grin was undeniably there. He was laughing at her. She felt her neck heat with embarrassment.

  “My goodness, Dr. Franssen,” the chastised nurse said who’d returned and stood awkwardly at the door of the room. “You almost had two patients.”

  Shannon scrambled to find the right words, knowing they would simply be excuses for her incompetence, but came up with nothing to hide her shame. “I’m sorry, Dr. Franssen. You will discover, although my intentions and will to be a perfect nurse will always be my sole motive, I do have my clumsy moments.”

  “And I’ve been privy to two of them—in the same day.” His face did not harden or his voice sound annoyed, so Shannon took that as a positive sign. Perhaps her good would outweigh her bad. He turned to the nurse at the door, and said, “Do you not have work elsewhere, Nurse Shelby?”

  The nurse fled down the hallway, and hysterical laughter immediately erupted from the woman in the bed. Shannon turned to see her laying calmly, eyes wide open and focused, obviously enjoying the disorderly scene that her nurses had provided. She whispered a prayer of thanksgiving to the Lord for the woman’s conscious state while at the same time hating the initial impression that she’d created with her very first patient.

  Dr. Franssen turned his attention to the woman in the bed—Anna he’d called her—who lay peaceful in evident contrast to the thrashing, uncontrollable woman that had greeted them. “You gave us quite the scare. I’ve cleaned your sutures but I am afraid infection has set in. We will have to keep a close eye on that and meanwhile you must stay in bed and off your leg.”

  “At least I feel safe here,” she said. “What of Janus? Did you finish him off?”

  “Unfortunately for you, I am a better doctor than a gunslinger. The man was here overnight with a minor injury; the bullet only grazed his arm. He snuck past security and ran in the early hours of the morning.”

  Fear returned to the woman’s eyes. “Then I shall stay here forever. Can you station a guard outside my door?”

  “That won’t be necessary, Anna. I’m sure he won’t try any mischief while you’re in the hospital.”

  “Mischief! If you hadn’t come along…” Anna’s voice piqued and the effort to sit made her vomit and she dropped exhausted back against the pillow. “Now look what I’ve done.”

  Shannon was already on the move, hurrying to the other side of the bed, gathering the soiled blanket and top sheet off her body. She looked at the doctor. “Are the clean linens in the storage room?”

  “Yes, on the shelves on the back wall.”

  Shannon dampened a clean cloth and handed it to Anna. “I’ll be right back. I don’t want you to catch a chill.”

  Grabbing the dirty pile that she’d tossed on the floor, Shannon headed for the door, and on her way out, she heard Anna speak to Dr. Franssen, “My goodness, who is this clumsy angel of mercy you have working for you?” Shannon did not wait to hear his answer but sped to the storage room to procure a change of bedding.

  Fifteen minutes later, she had the sleepy woman settled in and eager for a nap. She’d never spoken again to Shannon, but scrutinized her every move—probably fearful she’d trip again, or worse still, mess up her healthcare.

  With closed eyes, just before she drifted off to sleep, Anna muttered, “thank you for singing with me, Nurse Angel.”

  Angel? Shannon was far from an angel but she did not dispute the woman; she needed rest after her afternoon ordeal. She covered the patient’s calmed body and tucked the freshly fragranced blanket under her chin. Shannon had a good sense of smell and despite the lingering aftermath of vomit, for the second time she caught a whiff of something unusual on her breath. She stood pondering the odor, racking her brain to identify it, when Dr. Franssen popped his head into the room.

  “Are you finished here, Nurse Shannon?”

  She jumped to attention. “Yes, Doctor.”

  “Then come along, we have other patients to see and I haven’t begun to give you the tour of the place.”

  The hospital was three stories high: offices for the department heads, a kitchen which cooked meals for patients and staff, laundry facilities, day surgical rooms, and the emergency wing took up the main floor. On the second floor, a large storage room and overnight patients filled the east wing, and on the west side, operating rooms stood ready, a small staff lounge, and a consultation room. On the third floor, long term patients occupied the east side while on the west side, behind locked doors, lay heavily medicated, mental patients, tucked away safely until they could be transferred to a private sanitarium.

  The entire set-up amazed Shannon. She’d never saw such an organized setting for healing. The war-time hospitals she’d helped in—if that’s what you could call her meagre contribution to the cause at the end of the Civil War—sadly lacked in any sort of order. At age fifteen, her efforts had indeed been janitorial at best, and it seemed her first day on the job had her cleaning vomit and making beds, when in her heart she longed to pick up the scalpel and make a serious contribution inside the operating room. Perhaps she should have taken Miss Rimes’s suggestion and furthered her education to become a doctor. Only her clumsy nature and low self-esteem had held her back from chasing that dream. Yes—she would have to settle for nursing and become God’s extended hand to His people in her role as assistant to the men who actually made His biggest miracles happen.

  Walter prided himself in being a good judge of character and seeing past the façade people tended to show to the world. As he showed off his first-rate facility to the new nurse he’d watched for her reactions, and was surprised to see her face light up in the surgical rooms and her hands shake as she fingered the tools laid out in wait for the next candidate that would come under his knife.

  “Nurse Shannon,” he said. “Shall we take a break?” They’d been on their feet four hours now, and he did not want to test the woman’s endurance on her first day at work. “You must still be suffering a certain amount of fatigue from the trip on that iron beast they call a train.”

  She smiled and her face lit up. “It is not the most comfortable of rides, and from a health perspective, not the best air to breathe, yet, it remains a faster mode of transportation than the stage coach. At times, I imagined myself a bandit as I raised a scarf over my nose and mouth to keep out the black soot. But I believe I’ve recovered sufficiently. Thank you for your concern. Molly is a wonderful hostess and attends to my housing and feeding needs quite efficiently. I’m certain I shall be spoiled under her watchful eye.”

  “I know the woman personally, and have heard many wonderful things by townsfolk concerning her,” he said. “I believe she has the heart of a nurse; she just tends to a different clientele.”

  “A very accurate portrayal of her, Dr. Franssen. I totally agree in your evaluation as to the owner of the boardinghouse.”

  “I have also evaluated you,” he said feeling the stretch of the wide-spread grin that grew on his face, one he seemed unable to wipe off. Feeling out of his comfort zone, he plunked an apple on her tray and said, “An apple a day keeps the doctor away.”

  When she cast him a puzzled look, he knew he’d been assessed as well, and wondered how he’d measured up in her eyes. Attempting to straighten his form and represent the image of the head doctor, proved to be a difficult task, for at the moment, in Nur
se Shannon’s company, he was feeling anything but professional, and he wondered if she’d somehow cast a spell on him. For, long ago, he’d decided that he would not, under any circumstances, pursue his staff romantically. Cupid appeared to have other plans. As they’d walked the halls together and discussed all things medical, he’d been totally distracted by her luscious red lips, her kind eyes, her helpful spirit, and that magical voice that had serenaded and soothed Anna when her insides were screaming in protest.

  He curtailed the urge to hold the chair for her as she sat at the small café table across from him. This was not a date. She was his new nurse and employee, and he became fully aware it would take all his restraint to remember that fact. Common ground provided a safety net for his emotions, so he chose to open the conversation there. “I couldn’t help but notice your heightened interest when we visited the surgical rooms.”

  “You caught me,” she said, smiling and chuckling while his heart did a deep dive. “I used to sneak into the surgical tent during war time and watch the doctors when they operated on the soldiers. I was very young and likely they considered me a nuisance but after countless times of being caught in the act, they turned a blind eye and let me hide in the corner out of the way.”

  “I have hired a rebel, then?” Walter asked.

  “Oh, I’m not a child anymore. You needn’t worry about me stepping outside the boundaries you set for me in the workplace.”

  Walter swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat—she was definitely not a child anymore and everything that screamed man within him responded eagerly to her, completely ignoring the ground rules he’d set for his heart.

  “I like my staff to be happy in their duties,” he said taking a long sip of his coffee and studying her. “I operate on special cases, actually anytime the boredom of the office exasperates my physician’s spirit. Would you care to try your hand at being a surgical nurse and then following up with our patients on the ward?”

  Her face lit up like he’d given her a Christmas present. “Oh yes, Dr. Franssen, that would please me to no end.” She lowered her head and bit her lip. “But you have witnessed my biggest downfall and you would do well to consider that before inviting me into such a stress-filled situation as an operating room.”