Chapter 6
Mrs. McAlister was the one to find Gwen and the child sitting at the servants’ kitchen table, munching on oatmeal cookies. She looked at the child with guarded interest and spoke gingerly. “Nurse Peters, would you be so kind as to step into the hallway?”
Gwen got to her feet and patted the child on the top of his soft curly locks. “I’ll be right back.” The boy had only mumbled one-syllable words since they’d sat down—obviously, he had only just begun to learn how to speak.
After closing the door, Gwen turned to face the agitated woman. “Miss Peters—Gwen, isn’t it?” The woman was in begging-mode. “We find ourselves in a most unfortunate situation. My husband is livid and refuses to have the child under his roof. Daniel is reacting at the moment and not taking responsibility for his actions. He stormed from the house before we could resolve the issue. The boy’s place is with his mother, but she’s turned him out in order to wed and gain some sort of respectability, as if that would work.” The woman clucked her tongue in annoyance.
“How can you be certain some woman didn’t take advantage of Daniel’s vulnerability and his lack of memory to get rid of her offspring?” Gwen asked.
“If only it were that easy. The mother included proof in the child’s bag of meager belongings. Even Daniel could not dispute the letter he’d taken from the hospital the night he ran away, which the girl snatched to keep him under her thumb until she had her way. The locket she stole was an heirloom, and it might have provided Daniel with the jolt he needed to search for his family and thus avoid all of this baby-drama. She included a photo of herself and Daniel. He recognized her as the woman from the small town where he’d stayed, and even recalled viewing the locket he’d discovered in his pant’s pocket with the family emblem etched on the back. But, that too, mysteriously disappeared. The child’s mother is a thief and a conniver, and we shall pay the consequences of her ill-doing.”
“People all across the country are trying to recover from their war losses. Perhaps she simply needed a friend, and God allowed her to give aid to Mr. McAlister while he recovered.”
“You are far too gracious. The girl is a scamp,” Mrs. McAlister said, allowing no room for mercy. “Thomas tells me he does recall a woman watching him and Daniel as they left the village, where he was known as the town beggar, if you can believe that. My son has no need to beg. When the truth of his identity came to light, Thomas watched the people who’d let his son near starve to death, eat crow pie.”
“Another reason to be thankful for the child’s mother. She brought him food and dressed his wounds as best she could. God does work in mysterious ways.”
“But now, the child! No, I am not ready to be a grandmother before my son’s wedding day. Whatever will our friends think?”
So, it all boiled down to pride. Gwen should not be surprised. “I’ve come to realize that it really only matters what the Good Lord thinks. We do our best to extend His hand, but in the end, his plans are all that matter.”
Mrs. McAlister clucked her tongue again, “Have you always talked in such riddles?”
When Gwen opened her mouth to respond, the woman put her hand in the air to stop her words. “Never mind. You’re not on trial, but this mother who has abandoned her child, is.”
“And she claims Daniel is the father. I do see a likeness, if you call dimples and a mischievous smile hereditary,” Gwen said.
“Well, the floozy should not have left the toddler on our doorstep, but I suppose, if she didn’t have the fortitude to come forth with her claim prior to Daniel’s leaving her town, I understand her cowardice. If she were merely a fortune-seeker hunting for a man and respectability, you’d have thought she’d have come inside and ordered Daniel to marry her.”
“Perhaps she didn’t know she was pregnant when your husband arrived in town to bring Daniel home,” Gwen said becoming thoughtful. “Daniel has been home for ten months. If she were three months pregnant and unaware, that would put the child’s age at nineteen months, which seems to be fairly accurate.”
“But if Daniel had feelings for the woman, why would he not have been upset at leaving her to return to his childhood home, even if he couldn’t remember it?”
“He should be able to answer that, Mrs. McAlister. That period of time is not lost,” Gwen said.
“He should be, but he won’t!” The mistress of the house was clearly upset. “He just walked out and left his mess for us to clean up.”
“What will you do?” Gwen asked.
The woman lowered her eyes and spoke to the marble floor in subdued tones. “I was hoping you would take the child to your cabin until Daniel comes to his senses and helps us to make the right decisions for us all.”
“Me?” That was the last solution she’d expected. “Your husband employed me to help your son recover to his former self, or, at the very least, come to grips with his memory loss, provide therapy to regain strength in his legs and emotional support to get over this hurdle in his life. There was never mention of a baby.”
“We would increase your pay substantially if you took on the extra burden,” Mrs. McAlister said. Gwen immediately recognized where the entire conversation had been leading. “And perhaps the child’s presence will serve to provide motivation for Daniel. He seems to be a pleasant little guy. And if I were to be honest, I do see that spark of resemblance you mentioned. Daniel always possessed a smile a mother could not deny.”
“So, you suspect Daniel could be the father.”
“Oh, Nurse Peters, I have no idea. I only know that at the moment, the toddler is motherless and needs tending to.”
Gwen exhaled, long and hard. “I have no mothering skills, but I will try my best until Daniel comes around and the family figures out what’s to be done.”
Mrs. McAlister rested a hand on Gwen’s arm. “That’s all we ask, dear. Daniel will take you to town to shop for the boy. We can’t have the child wandering the grounds looking like a rejected puppy. I’d suggest that Arthur take you, but the more hands-on Daniel is in his son’s welfare, the quicker we shall settle this affair.” At that, she turned abruptly. “Thank you, Miss Peters. Your sacrifice to expand your calling is duly noted and appreciated.”
Daniel was physically and mentally exhausted when he reached his chalet. He stomped his feet to be rid of the dirt from his shoes and proceeded to march across the clean floors to slam his fist on the dining room table.
“Of all the low-down, deceitful women,” he murmured.
He’d been stretched to his limit, coming into these strange surroundings where his father ruled with a heavy thumb. Over time, Daniel had conceded to his father’s requests and allowed the nurse to join forces against him. And now, this – a baby delivered on his doorstep. Fatherhood was the furthest thing from his mind.
Daniel slammed his fist again. Considering the rumors surrounding Thomas McAlister’s secret rendezvous, which were not nearly as secret as the man imagined, Daniel was surprised that a similar bundle had never been delivered on his father’s doorstep.
The high and mighty Thomas McAlister had dared to stand in his parlor that day, painting Daniel as the bad-boy, delivering his hypocritical speech, and then having the nerve to blame him for inflicting additional scandal upon the precious family name. As if disgrace number one—coming home as a stranger—was a dishonor he could have somehow controlled.
And, yes—the child could very well be his. The woman who had brought him food daily—leftovers destined for the garbage at the diner in which she had worked—often sat and talked with him. She was the first person he recalled seeing when he’d awoken after his gruelling escape from the army hospital. The doctors there had debated chopping his leg off above the knee, but he knew it wasn’t necessary—they had simply wanted to prescribe the easiest remedy because they desired to go home. The war was over, and pampering long-term patients would have kept them chained to the blood infested place longer than they wanted.
He’d run off in th
e night with his chart, and no one had come looking for him.
His rescuing angel appeared to have knowledge where healing herbs and remedies were concerned, and eventually, the dangerous black infection had eased off to a reddish-pink. The first few months, he had dropped in and out of consciousness, but when he had awoken, she was always there, tending to his injuries. When he was well enough, she moved him to an old shack on the edge of town that no one owned, for no one came around ordering him to leave the entire time he had called the dump his home.
He’d welcomed Shannon’s visits, never suspecting she’d known who he was all along. The stolen objects she’d left along with her son were proof of her deception. With the stolen locket, the family crest, and the picture, it must have been easy to track down his well-known, affluent family.
Regardless, without the stolen items in his possession, he’d been unable to attempt a search for his roots. And when it all became too much to bear, he’d surrendered and become dependent on the only familiar element in his life: Shannon.
At that point, he’d learned to be content with a leaky roof over his head. At times, the loneliness had suffocated him and brought on a death-wish, over which he’d managed to gain victory. With his depression at an all-time low, Shannon came to him that one night, wearing a fancy dress and smelling like a fresh strawberry patch, and Daniel had weakly succumbed to her womanly whiles.
Never once had he suspected trickery. Now, he reconsidered. Had she planned to trap him with a baby the entire time? No, for she hadn’t even stuck around for the benefits he would surely have offered to rectify the situation. He’d never knowingly dishonor a woman, at least, he hoped he wouldn’t. He recalled her timid approach when the Thomas McAlister showed up to bring his son home. Any con on the make must have flown out the window when the man had tossed her a few bills for her troubles and disappeared into the sunset with Daniel, killing any hope for any easy future—if deception had been intended from the onset. Yet, the thievery left him undecisive as to her motives.
His mind spun with unanswered questions.
Daniel doubted she could have known about the baby at that point as it was too early, yet, he’d seen the lioness in action when things did not go her way, for his caregiver could be as hard as nails one minute and soft and alluring as a kitten the next. She must have chalked up the whole experience as a useless, unprofitable endeavor once Thomas McAlister had departed from her small town, his head held low after discovering that she’d only rescued half of his son from the war. But that was before the baby.
He dropped into the chair and buried his face in the hollow of his folded arms. Tears threatened to fall, but he’d learned to push them away. They changed nothing, and in their shedding, revealed a weak, defeated man.
Where had he learned that twisted philosophy? Obviously, from a man who had never gone to war, more than likely, his father. Daniel’s emotions played somewhere in the depths of his soul behind the veils of well-preserved memories. When they spilled out, they came as angry frustration. That had become his lot in life. Even if he wanted to be a father, he’d ruin the youngster. Wealth and prestige did not make a man. The ones he honored lay in shallow graves or covered by weeds along river beds—even if he couldn’t put a name to their faces.
Daniel’s head shot up, startled at the memory, for he’d clearly seen the picture in his mind of soldiers lying in pools of blood, their twisted limbs tangled amidst others’. He groaned to think that his night terrors had visited the day, though it should have been counted as a victory, for he longed for the hidden years to come into the light of day. Yet the horror of it gave him cause to reconsider.
He thought of the child. He had the color of both he and his mother’s hair: light brown, like the hay fields growing around the shack outside of the small, backward town’s business section. Shannon used to hide among the tall crops and make him come find her. The game made his legs burn with pain, but she laughed and told him not to be wimpy. He now recognized the same controlling spirit in her as was in his father, and he did not like that he’d been played.
Daniel forced his mind back to the boy. The deep blue eyes clinched it for him, and the way the toddler had held his head off on a tilt when confused—it was like looking in a mirror. The boy very likely carried McAlister blood, and his mother showed her true colors again, having chosen a new man with money and no baby-baggage, despite who it hurt as a result. The boy was young. He’d forget her soon enough, but the question remained: did he want to be a father? Better still, was he able to give the boy his due heritage?
He must have dozed, for he awoke to a gentle tapping on his door. Daniel groaned, not wanting to face his new reality. He walked slowly to the door and was relieved to see Nurse Gwen standing on the porch. The woman wore her heart on her sleeve without a hint of deception lurking behind her intense, blue eyes.
“Come in,” he said, as he turned back inside. “Can I pour you some lemonade?”
“Thank you.” She headed for his sitting room. “Can we sit in here and talk?”
“Ah—the dreaded talk,” he called from the kitchen. “You must think me a royal pain.”
She did not answer until after he’d passed her the tall glass of refreshment. “Royalty never entered my mind, sir. I choose to picture you as a good Samaritan with a big choice to make.”
“The boy carries wounds, even at his tender age,” Daniel said.
“I’m glad you’ve noticed.” She grinned playfully. “There is hope for you yet.”
“But I’m no father. You see the example I grew up with—surely the boy deserves better than the McAlister name.”
“Then I suppose this is one instance where you will be pleased you don’t remember your upbringing. It gives you a clean slate to do it right.”
“Do you always see the bright side of a dark moon?”
“I try. There is too much pain and gloom found in this new world in which we live. Since the war, few have plunged forward successfully without being mired in the scars of the battlefield.”
“Did you have brothers who fought?”
“I have two who both, thankfully, returned unscathed and have ventured into careers of their own. Of course, they all ridiculed me when I chose nursing school. It was fine for a woman to get her skirts dirty when her country needed her, but to willingly choose nursing over a fine gentleman who could provide all of my heart’s desires, did not go without conflict on the homefront. No one at home understood my passion.”
“And then the school placed you here, where your skills go unchallenged, and your patient is a grumpy, misguided casualty of war.”
She smiled. “I see you differently.”
“How so?”
“Well, for starters—and to address the problem at hand—a fine father figure who will learn to adjust and make his mistakes a victory in someone else’s life.”
“As in the boy? You honestly think he will grow up strong in mind and spirit under my care?”
“I do,” Gwen said, “but don’t let it feed your ego. You have many bridges to cross, and I have been elected by man and God to help you through the rough patches.”
“The rough patches have gotten bigger instead of smaller,” he said. “Where is the boy now?”
“In my cottage, sleeping. After he downed every morsel I put on his plate, he dropped his head on the table and fell into a deep sleep. He is exhausted.”
“Interesting. It seems both us boys fall asleep at the table. Is that coincidence, heredity or destiny?” Daniel toyed with Gwen.
“God is in control, here, and we are merely his vessels for the greater good.”
“I shall leave all religious instruction to you, Nurse Gwen.”
“A man with a family needs to live by example. Do you have a church nearby?” she asked.
“A grand one; with our own designated seats, but I believe there is room for two more on the family pew.”
“Good. I will look forward to Sunday, then.”
/> His face went white.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“I have not set foot in church since my return. I only know of its goings-on because Arthur pesters me every Saturday. Says our pew looks empty.”
“He should sit with the family,” Gwen said, watching closely for Daniel’s response, but she could see no indication in his expression that might suggest the man might actually believe he belonged there.
“Heaven forbid! Many in the congregation do not look favorably on the presence of ex-slaves in their midst, even the working ones who sit upstairs. I hear their hypocrisy when they are invited to dine at the big house.” Daniel downed the contents of his glass. “I fear the slaves’ road to real freedom will be a long time coming.”
“Perhaps freedom comes in different forms,” Gwen said. “Arthur prays for the people in the big house and does not appear to be hindered or downtrodden by this employer’s two-facedness.”
“He does come off as a well-balanced, young man, but joining up with the Union troops left a sour taste in my father’s mouth. This corner of the community supported the Confederates—they didn’t want to give up the easy life.”
“Perhaps, but the man is an army veteran, just the same, and deserving of our appreciation for his sacrifice.”
“You appear quite comfortable with either side,” Daniel said. “Have you always sat on the fence?”
“The war is over, the slaves are free, and I am proud of the men who fought for what they believed in, regardless of their small minds.”
Daniel grinned. “You were a Union nurse, right?”
“I nursed any injured man that crossed my path,” she said. “I understand you fought in the Confederate Army, but I do not wish to debate the pros and cons of a war that spilled far too much blood of my fellow countrymen.”
“I gather, from my father, that he made that decision for me. Apparently, a McAlister plantation owner needed to fight to keep his slaves, and woe be to any who tried to take that right from him.”
A Nurse for Daniel Page 5