Love by Design

by Christine Johnson

  In the fourth week while on night shift, Jen’s turn arrived.

  “Go to Ward B,” the head nurse instructed, “and sit with the patient in bed three.”

  Ward B contained those suffering from the effects of influenza, including pneumonia. Jen arrived to find bed three curtained off. Inside lay a man, emaciated from long illness and barely conscious. His skin was already ashen.

  At the sound of her arrival, his eyelids flickered open to reveal pale, watery eyes. Jen froze. For an instant, the man reminded her of Daddy, only her father had not awoken when she walked into the room. Instinct told her to flee, to find some closet where she could gather her wits, but she forced herself to walk to the chair positioned bedside.

  She sat and took his hand, already cool.

  His lips moved, but no sound came out.

  She leaned close and barely made out the whispered “thank you.”

  His eyelids closed again, and he dropped into the shallow breaths marking each limited moment he had left. Where was his family? Where were his loved ones?

  She checked the card at the foot of the bed. His name was Herbert Smith. No church or pastor listed. No next of kin. He was alone in this world, but she would not leave him in his final hours on this earth. She returned to the chair and held his hand.

  He returned to consciousness once more and asked for prayer. She recited the twenty-third psalm, the only thing that came to mind. It calmed him, and in the wee hours of the morning he passed. She laid his hands upon his chest and said a prayer for his soul.

  Jen knew procedure. She was supposed to notify the head nurse, who would call the orderlies. They would cover the deceased with a sheet and remove him from the ward. She would be expected to follow the gurney to the morgue, where she would bathe and cover the body with a dazzling white sheet.

  That was procedure, but first she shed a tear for a man who’d had no one to mourn his passing. Then she dried her tears and summoned the head nurse. Like her daddy, Mr. Smith was whisked away.

  * * *

  For most of March, the expedition preparations had proceeded according to plan. Dan supervised packing the supplies for shipment to Spitsbergen. He scheduled the loading of the crates on a train to New York. From there, they would be placed aboard ship for transport to Oslo. Then they would be transferred onto a ship that would carry them to Spitsbergen Island.

  All Dan needed was to know which ship, a task that Hunter reserved for himself. Yet as the weeks passed, Hunter would give him no ship name. Whenever Dan asked, he brushed it off, saying he would get to it. In Dan’s opinion, the man grew more and more distracted.

  Dan missed Jen’s organizational skills. She would have had the ship lined up the first week of March. She would have checked and double-checked with the shipping agents for any weather delays or changes in the schedule. She would have gone straight to Hunter and demanded answers in her inimitable way. Dan could have relied on her. Instead he had to deal with a man who looked more worried with each passing day, yet wouldn’t tell him why. Dan hoped Hunter wasn’t planning to abandon the expedition. A great many people had plunked down large sums to support it. Dan would have to repay the advance he’d gotten from Kensington if the expedition didn’t get off the ground. He would not owe anyone, but it would cost him all he had.

  “The ship is booked?” Dan asked again.

  “The ship is the least of our problems,” Hunter said. “What does it take to cross the Atlantic? A couple weeks? We have plenty of time. We can’t attempt the arctic until summer anyway.”

  “Summer? I thought we were doing this in May.”

  “That’s too soon after the baby is born. Darcy will need me at home.”

  Dan wanted to point out that Jack’s wife would doubtless get more help from her mother than her husband, but he had another card to play. “I understand Lieutenant Commander Byrd will be leading the naval flight unit joining the MacMillan polar expedition. They plan an August attempt. If we hope to claim the record, we need to get there first.”

  His bombshell did not have the desired result.

  “Family comes first,” Hunter said. “You know that.”

  Dan’s family certainly took top priority when it came to his savings, but this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, one that he was willing to sacrifice a government contract in order to participate in. How he wished Jen was here to talk sense into the man. “There’s no reason I can’t take charge of arranging the transatlantic shipping. Let me handle it. You have enough on your mind.”

  “Are you questioning my abilities?” Hunter snapped.

  Dan held up his hands in defeat. “I’m only saying that a man needs to stand by his wife first. You take care of her. I’ll handle the bookings.”

  Hunter’s defensive posture eased. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m not quite myself these days.”

  “Understandable.” Dan offered a smile of encouragement even though he was worried. Passage to remote Spitsbergen would be difficult to locate if Hunter hadn’t done anything yet. Opportunity might have already passed them by. Moreover, Dan had been awarded the airmail contract. The letter from the Post Office was in his pocket. If this expedition fell apart, he preferred it happen now rather than later.

  “Just tell me if you’re planning to cancel the polar attempt.”

  Hunter jerked to attention. “Did I say anything about canceling this? It’s Darcy’s dream.”

  “Then maybe you should wait until she can participate.”

  Hunter’s gaze narrowed. “Are you bailing out on me?”

  “Not at all. Just stating the options.”

  “There are no options. We’re doing this.” But Hunter said that with about as much conviction as Jen had mustered for nursing school.

  “All right, then.” Hunter deserved to know what Dan was laying on the line. “I’ll turn down the airmail contract.”

  Hunter looked him in the eye. “Sorry to make you choose between the two, old sport. I’ll understand if you need to take it.”

  At this rate, nothing would get accomplished. “Look, I’m not planning to bail. I just want to get this process moving. After we cross the pole, I’ll have all the contract opportunities I want. Since you’re busy with family, let me handle the arrangements.”

  “All right, but the first order of business is fixing that left engine. Another valve broke.”

  “What? When? I thought we were done testing.”

  Hunter raked a hand through his hair. “I wanted one more run-through with Hendrick before we removed the engines from the plane. The last time we ran them, I thought I heard something off.”

  “You’re beginning to sound like Jen.”

  Hunter grinned. “She has a way with engines, doesn’t she?”

  Dan didn’t want to think about her. If he did, he’d remember that she was stuck in a hospital dumping bedpans. She belonged here, working on the project. He blew out his breath to clear his head. “If we’re still having trouble with the valves, we’d better pack plenty of replacements.”

  “Yep.” Hunter scrubbed his whiskered chin. “Trouble is we don’t have them.”

  “What do you mean we don’t have them? We can’t go to Spitsbergen without spare parts. I was sure Jen had that on the supply list.”

  “She did, but the spare valves we have packed are the problem according to Hendrick. He is going to machine a set of more durable ones out of a special alloy. If they do the job, he’ll make the spares.”

  “Sounds good to me. When will they be ready to test?”

  “When he gets his hands on some of that special alloy.”

  Dan whistled. “How long to get it?”

  “There’s some in Grand Rapids.”

  “Grand Rapids.” Dan was beginning to suspect a setup. “Grand Rapids, Michigan, where a certain
aspiring aviatrix is attending nursing school.”

  “She might appreciate an update on the expedition.”

  Dan groaned. Their parting had been painful. Though she hadn’t shed tears, her eyes had welled with hurt. “I don’t suppose anyone else could go.”

  Hunter shrugged. “I can’t leave Darcy, and Hendrick has a business to run.”

  Dan had to give the man credit for first-class manipulation. No doubt he’d convinced the entire town that only Dan could make the run to Grand Rapids. “You aren’t giving me any choice, are you?”

  “Nope. I will give you the keys to the Model T, though.”

  * * *

  Since Jen had spent the night in Ward B, she hadn’t visited Marie as usual. Though dead tired, she headed to D Ward after ending her shift.

  At this hour, the ward was abuzz while breakfast was being served. Mealtimes were always welcomed in the wards, especially by those patients not on restricted diets.

  Jen headed straight for Marie’s bed and found another woman in it. “Where’s Marie?”

  The disheveled brunette glared at her. “I don’t see no breakfast tray in your hands.”

  Jen backed up and looked at the card on the end of the bed. Marie’s card was gone. She ran off in search of the head nurse, who was ensuring the proper diet for each patient.

  “Where is Marie?” Jen asked breathlessly.

  The woman frowned. “I’m busy now, and you’re off duty.”

  “All I want to know is where Marie went. Did someone come for her? Did she have her baby?”

  The nurse handed the tray to her assistant and checked her list for the next patient’s diet. “Who is Marie?”

  “Bed seven.”

  “Bed seven went into convulsions early this morning and passed.”

  “Passed?” Jen reeled. “The baby?” she managed to croak out.

  “Stillborn.” All business, the head nurse resumed directing the junior nurse and probationer.

  Somehow Jen left the ward. Nurses, students and staff passed. Someone spoke her name. She heard the faint echo long after the woman had moved on. Marie was dead. Just yesterday she had been brimming with hope. One of the charities had dropped off baby clothes, and she had selected a pretty pink gown in the hope of having a girl. Jen could still see her jubilation, the fervent hope in her eyes. Now she was dead and the baby with her.

  Jen stumbled down the corridor, eyes too blurred by tears to see her way. After a few steps, the strength went out of her legs, and she leaned against the wall for support.

  “Are you all right, miss?” one of the orderlies asked as he passed by.

  She managed a nod. “Just tired.”

  He didn’t look as if he believed her but went on his way rather than cause an uproar by assisting one of the probationers. All she could think about was that she hadn’t been with Marie in her hour of need. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. Marie was younger than her. She had suffered so much pain in her life. The baby had been her first ray of hope for a better future. The breath caught in Jen’s throat and squeezed hard.

  Vision blurred by tears, she mindlessly wandered the halls and somehow ended up at her room. Thankfully her roommates were gone. Jen closed the door and sank onto the desk chair. The inside of the window had frosted over with delicate feathery patterns. As a child, she had loved to trace the swirls, though they always melted beneath her touch. Life had turned out to be just as fragile. All the medicine and doctors in the world were powerless to halt death’s steady progress.

  She laid her head on the desk and wept.

  * * *

  Hours later, a persistent knocking awakened Jen.

  “Miss Fox. Miss Fox.”

  Stiff and groggy, Jen murmured. “Yes?”

  “You have a visitor.” With the message delivered, the girl, probably another probationer, left, her muffled footsteps echoing down the long dormitory hallway.

  A visitor. It took a long time for those words to sink in. Since arriving at the beginning of the month, Jen had not had a single visitor. Her roommates all had. Evelyn, one of her first-year roommates, even had a gentleman caller. The other nurses had teased her about that for days, asking when she was going to get engaged.

  Jen stretched her shoulders and moved her head back and forth to loosen her neck. Falling asleep on the desk had not been a brilliant idea, but at least dreams hadn’t tormented her.

  She stood and smoothed her wrinkled skirt in front of the mirror attached to the back of the door. Hopeless. Moreover her hair stuck out at all angles. She pulled her brush from the dresser drawer and tugged it through her unruly locks.

  Who could be paying her a visit? Not a man, certainly. Most likely Mother had taken the train. Or perhaps Ruth. No, Ruth wouldn’t be able to leave between nursing Sammy and closing the shop. Minnie was busy planning for her wedding, and Beattie had the children to watch. It must be Mother.

  Just as well. Mother might scold her for letting her appearance go, but she would understand when Jen explained that she had been sleeping after a grueling night shift. She would offer a shoulder to cry on and arms that comforted.

  In case Mother wanted to step outside for a walk, Jen grabbed her coat and gloves.

  Everyone knew that visitors were received in the little waiting room outside the program supervisor’s office. It was there that Jen had first arrived and set aside her dreams. She hadn’t seen it since.

  The distance proved shorter than she remembered. On that first day, the corridors and rooms had seemed endless. Jen had felt that she was walking into a foreign land so far removed from her former life that she could never find her way back.

  Today she greeted the stiff-backed receptionist who took her name, noted the time and asked her to sign the log.

  “Remember that you must return before nine o’clock curfew,” the woman said.

  “I doubt I’m going anywhere.”

  The woman smirked. “I certainly would if I were you.”

  Jen rubbed the sleep from her eyes but couldn’t suppress the yawn. She would tell Mother that she needed her sleep.

  The door to the waiting room was solid oak. It stuck slightly, and Jen had to thrust her hip against it to make it move. It gave way all of a sudden, sending Jen stumbling into the small area. Strong, masculine hands caught and set her on her feet.

  “You sure know how to make a grand entrance, darling.”

  Jen sucked in her breath. “Wagner. What are you doing here?”

  “Nice to see you, too. I thought you might appreciate lunch in the coffee shop down the street.”

  Jen glanced at the windows. Frost didn’t cover these. She could look out on the busy street. People hurried this way and that. Automobiles chugged past. Horns honked. Police whistles trilled.

  The world still existed.

  Dan grasped her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

  The electricity in his touch startled her. She stepped back and rubbed the shoulder. “Just tired. Thank you. I would enjoy lunch, but I haven’t any money with me.” Nor did she have enough back in her room, but Dan didn’t need to know that.

  “Now what sort of gentleman would I be if I didn’t offer to buy lunch for an upstanding young woman like you?”

  She managed a weak smile. “You don’t have to—”

  “Now, before you go through all your excuses, let me tell you right off that I won’t listen to any of them. I’m taking you to lunch, and that’s that.” He extended his arm. “Shall we?”

  “Well, since I don’t have a choice...” She wrapped her arm around his and let his strength carry her the city block to the coffee shop. Along the way, he brought her up to date on her family and the goings-on in Pearlman. Her sisters were all still in town, though the dress shop had announced it would close at the e
nd of the month. Jen bit her lip. She wouldn’t see Ruth and family leave.

  “Darcy?” she asked with trepidation.

  “Fine.”

  His casual reply told her all was well on that front. She breathed out that worry.

  Dan stopped in front of a tiny coffee shop with large windows and a green-and-white awning whose scalloped edge flapped in the light breeze. She’d heard of the place from her roommates, who went there often, but she didn’t have money to waste on restaurants.

  He pulled open the door and then escorted her to a small table in the front window. “Will this do?”

  “It’s the only open table.”

  He cracked a smile. “That’s the Jen I missed.”

  Dan Wagner missed her. That revelation hit harder than it should, considering she was working toward a professional career.

  He pulled out her chair and seated her before taking the chair across from her.

  A waitress informed them of the day’s specials and pointed out the menu scrawled on a chalkboard above the lunch counter. “Coffee?”

  “Please,” Dan said.

  Jen wouldn’t spend any more of Dan’s money than necessary. “Just water for me.”

  Several of the student nurses sat at a table within Jen’s line of sight. The one they called Country Girl grinned and patted her hair. Jen reached up and discovered her cowlick was standing straight up. She dampened her fingers in the glass of water the waitress deposited in front of her and tried to smooth it down.

  Dan looked amused. “Forget to comb your hair?”

  “For your information, I brushed it. Moreover—not that it’s any of your business—I happened to work the night shift last night and have only had a few hours of sleep.”

  He looked stricken. “I didn’t know, or I would never have woken you.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Sooner or later someone would have come into the room or banged a door, and I would have woken anyway.” She took a sip of icy water, which only made her colder. “You didn’t answer my question earlier. You didn’t come all the way to Grand Rapids to take me to lunch. What brought you here?”