She laughed while lowering herself into the chair beside his bed. She had found a fan to cool herself and waved it back and forth as she conversed. It was a nice break.
“Do you think you’re Spanish, Mr. Pirate Blackeyes?” Renna couldn’t seem to help teasing him. “I might think you are because of your dark features, although you have more of a European look about you.”
“Hmm . . . ” The comment had Mr. Blackeyes thinking for a few moments. Then he shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“It’ll come. You’ve remembered a lot so far.”
“And I’m learning more. My present state of mind seems sharp anyway.” He paused. “I’m looking forward to another of your father’s visits. He said he’d return tonight.”
Renna grimaced. “No, he can’t come. He forgot about a dinner engagement. I’m sorry. I should have told you earlier.”
“I’m disappointed.”
Two disappointments in one day. Renna’s heart went out to him.
“What sort of dinner engagement is it?” Mr. Blackeyes wanted to know.
“Oh.” She sighed. “My father is entertaining an associate at our home.”
“I can recall some very fine dinners that my wife and I hosted. She was very beautiful . . . Louisa.” He sat up a little straighter. “That was her name!” Mr. Blackeyes snapped his fingers. “Louisa!”
Renna smiled. “You’re remembering!”
“Yes . . . ” Again he exhaled audibly, sitting back against the metal headboard of his bed. “She’s dead. My wife, Louisa. She was ill ever since the birth of our youngest child.”
“I’m so sorry. I’m sure you loved her very much.”
“I suppose I did. She was the mother of my children, after all. That warranted some affection.”
Renna fell stone silent. His marriage sounded loveless in her opinion.
“Did I shock you? Does my honesty disturb you? I suppose it would, and I apologize. You probably believe in falling in love and living happily ever after. Like in the fairy tales. But when you grow up a bit, you’ll see that love is—”
“When I grow up a bit?” She sat forward in her chair. “And just how old . . . or should I say, how young do you think I am?”
Frown lines creased Mr. Blackeyes’s brow. “I assumed that you were . . . well . . . young. You’re spirited, unmarried—”
Cynicism gripped her. “I’m thirty years old, Mr. Blackeyes.”
Her patient was speechless.
Immediately Renna regretted her harsh tone. God made her this way, with a purple horseshoe stain on her cheek, and He had called her to nurse the sick. “Now it’s my turn to apologize, Mr. Blackeyes. While I might be what the neighbor boy called me—an old maid—I have enough wherewithal to enjoy my work. What’s more, I have a family who loves me.” Her gaze dropped to her now-folded hands. Wasn’t that enough? What more could she ask for? “I’m really not ungrateful for my lot in life.”
“I . . . I would have never guessed that you’re a—”
“A spinster? Yes. But I’m not a nun with the Sisters of Mercy order as many nurses here are. I’m just unmarried, and I like to take care of people. I went to a finishing school for two years, and I was always interested in medicine. Then I got my nursing training in a military hospital, and that’s where I served during the war.
“You see,” she continued, “God never sent me a husband and children to take care of, but instead He sent me hundreds and hundreds of patients. And I have loved them all. Some just needed a kind word. Some have needed a tender heart and much understanding. Some needed a hand to hold and someone to cry with. Some”—Renna paused, her heart aching as memories flashed across her mind—“some as they lay dying needed me to write to their wives and mothers. And many have needed to hear about salvation through Jesus Christ.”
“I’m sure that’s right.” Mr. Blackeyes had found his voice.
Renna shook off the heaviness and smiled. “Like you.”
“Like me.” His voice trailed off, and Mr. Blackeyes seemed to retreat inside himself somewhere.
Their visit had obviously come to an end.
Renna stood, thinking she’d likely alienated Mr. Blackeyes with her honesty. And here he thought he had shocked her by his.
Nurse Rutledge called for her, and Renna squared her shoulders. While her wards were quiet, the others were not, and she would likely have to help the less-efficient nurses this afternoon. And she couldn’t dally. She had her own assignments to complete before she could leave for the day.
As the afternoon wore on, Renna kept insanely busy. When the clock in the nurses’ station chimed five o’clock, she realized she still had to update her patients’ charts before she could leave. Sitting down at one of the large walnut desks, she began to pen in Mr. Baker’s chart. She forced her hand to hurry. She didn’t want her parents to be miffed if she showed up late to dinner.
“Good evening, my little wren.”
Renna’s head popped up, and seeing her father, her eyes widened in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
He removed his hat. “I thought I’d come for you and give you a ride home.”
“Thank you. I’ll be done in about an hour. Can you wait?” She remembered. “Oh, but you can’t leave your dinner guest waiting.”
“Actually, Matt asked to postpone it. Evidently something pressing came up.”
Oh, thank You, God!
“He sends his regrets, and we’ve rescheduled for next week. Your mother is aware. I sent a message to her earlier today.”
Renna couldn’t contain her sigh of relief while straightening her paperwork.
Da chuckled at her reaction. “So how’s my friend Mr. Blackeyes?”
“Fine for the most part. But he’s very disappointed. Dr. Hamilton changed his bandages today, and there’s no change. He’s still blind.”
Da gave a sad wag of his head. “That’s a shame.” He glanced at his watch. “Tell you what. You finish up here, and I’ll chat with Mr. Blackeyes. Then I’ll take you home.”
“And Mum won’t mind us both coming in late . . . again?”
“I believe she’s used to it by now.”
“Yes, I believe you’re right.” Renna smiled. “Thank you, Da. Mr. Blackeyes said he was disappointed when he learned you wouldn’t be visiting tonight. I think the change of plans is exactly what he needs.”
“God works in mysterious ways, Renn.”
“That he does.” Smiling, she watched her father amble down the tiled hallway toward her pirate’s ward.
SIX
Blackeyes, my dear fellow, are you awake?”
He knew the voice. “Wendell Fields?”
“’Tis I.”
Surprising. “I thought you had a dinner party tonight.”
“Oh, not a party exactly. One guest.” Sounds of the wooden chair legs scraping against the tile let him know Renna’s father had seated himself. “He had to cancel.”
“A pity.” He couldn’t help a grin. “But apparently it worked to my advantage.”
“You’d welcome a visit, then?”
“Absolutely.” He tried to sit up straighter in his bed. Curiosity gnawed at him. “Tell me . . . how is it that your daughter is yet unmarried? She told me herself. She said she’s thirty years old and a spinster. I could hardly believe it.”
There was no reply for many long moments, and he thought perhaps the question was offensive.
“Forgive me,” he said at last. “I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just that—”
“Renna is a beautiful person,” Mr. Fields answered at last. “That’s what you mean, isn’t it? And it’s so true. She is a blessing to her mother and me. But the fact of the matter is Renna is also intelligent. Smarter than most of the eligible men her mother and I have tried to pair her with over the years.” The man chuckled. “You must admit, Mr. Blackeyes, that there isn’t a man alive who wants his wife to be smarter than he is!”
He grinned. “An intelligent woman such as your
daughter would make a far better companion, I think, than, say, my deceased wife, Louisa.”
“Oh?”
“I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead. Louisa bore my children, for which I will always be grateful. She had sense about decorating and fashion, but she had been sorely lacking on issues of real importance. Issues that mattered.” More memories surfaced. “I wouldn’t have married Louisa if not for my mother. She had been determined that I marry into a wealthy family—and I did.”
“What was your mother like?”
“I remembered just now. I can see her in my mind’s eye. She was a very beautiful but very eccentric woman. She insisted that I call her by her first name during all my growing-up years. And my children called her by her first name also.” He felt a rueful smile curve his lips. “She disliked being a mother and abhorred the idea of being a grandmother.”
“Pardon my saying so, but that’s rather strange. However, you did say that your mother is an eccentric. Can you remember her first name?”
“No.” Despair settled over him.
“What about your father?”
“He was a mariner and died shortly after I was born.” He searched his mind. “I don’t recall the reason for his death. My mother remarried, but something happened to my stepfather when I was young . . . an accident of some sort. He was killed.” He clenched his jaw. Why couldn’t he remember the details?
“No father figure to speak of, then?”
He heard the note of pity in Wendell Fields’s voice. “Plenty of father figures, although none you’d approve of. All leathery old seadogs who somehow wound up on the Great Lakes.” He tried to come up with the name of the barrel-chested man on the docks who taught him to tie a bowline knot while schooling him on women’s wiles, but it eluded him like so much else. “My mother sent me off to boarding school when I was twelve, fearing I’d end up like them or my . . . my father.” A flash of remembrance. “My father had been a drunk.”
“His name? Can you recall it?”
“No.” Clenching his fists he tried not to groan aloud. “Oh, this memory loss and blindness are maddening!”
“Easy there, Mr. Blackeyes. It’ll come. Be patient.”
His new friend’s voice reassured him somehow.
“What about other family members?”
“No. I’m an only child.” There! He’d come up with that much. Suddenly he remembered something more. A hard right to his jaw. His trusted steward, Richard, had delivered the blow . . . because of Sarah.
More of his past came rushing back. Richard found out that he’d been trifling with Sarah, but not because he loved her—because he wanted her to shackle her with a contract to work indefinitely as his children’s governess. He’d manipulated her.
“I’ve done things I’m not proud of. I remember that much. A righteous man might call me a scoundrel. But my steward, Richard, a good, Christian man, stayed loyal to me until . . . until Sarah came.”
“Sarah?”
“My children’s governess.”
“Oh, dear . . . ”
“My children adored her, and I could see at once that she’d be a good influence on them. So I turned on my charm, hoping Sarah would succumb.”
“You wanted to marry her?”
He laughed—and laughed hard. “Marry her? No. Sarah didn’t come from money, and marriage is a business arrangement really.”
“Not so.”
“Well, that’s all it’s ever been for me.” He recalled that much. “In any case, I had only meant to persuade Sarah, pressure her to sign a contract and remain in my employ . . . indefinitely.”
“I see.” The legs of his visitor’s wooden chair scraped against the tile. “It seems you have, indeed, been something of a pirate, Mr. Blackeyes.” Wendell patted his arm. “But God has delivered you out of that lifestyle. You are a new creation in Christ.”
He didn’t know what to say. The thought of Christ saving a wretch like him was an awesome one. Exhaustion fell over him like a thick drape, and he collapsed back into his pillows.
“Would you like it if I read some more of the Bible?”
“Yes, please.” Perhaps it would soothe his troubled mind and spirit.
“All right.”
After the whispering sound of delicate pages being turned, Wendell began to read from where he had left off last night.
•••
“So you see, my little wren, the man has lived a life of lies and deception—and devoid of true love. His first marriage was more of a business arrangement that secured wealth and good social standing.”
“How sad.” Renna sat beside her father on the front porch swing. It seemed like a perfect night for it, although temperatures were falling as the sun set. Renna pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “But Mr. Blackeyes can begin anew—now that he’s a believer.”
“Yes, and I told him the same thing.”
Renna smiled. “Now if we could only find out who he belongs to.”
“We will. I’m doing a bit of investigating, asking everyone I know who does business along Lake Michigan’s shores. Surely there must be some news somewhere of a prominent man in a boating accident who is now presumed dead.”
“Yes, of course. There must be news of him somewhere.” She recalled the snippets of information she’d gathered when Mr. Blackeyes was admitted to the hospital. “The rescuing ship’s captain said he and his crew found him floating near the Wisconsin-Illinois border.”
“I’ll do some digging.”
“Good idea.” Renna’s mind drifted as she imagined her pirate’s former lifestyle. A lady’s man and prominent social figure, everything Renna abhorred in a man. He probably danced with only the most beautiful women, drank only the finest wine, and dined with only the rich and famous. He probably lived in the fanciest house in the best neighborhood and furnished it lavishly, from the paintings to the carpets. He was a man to be wary of, for sure.
“Renna, did you hear anything I just said?”
She pulled herself from her musings. “Sorry, Da, I must be tired. My mind wandered a bit.”
“I said, after church tomorrow, since it is your day off, I thought we’d all go by the hospital and visit Mr. Blackeyes. Perhaps we’ll even bring him back for a little supper, if he’s up to it, that is.”
“Bring him here?” Renna sat forward, disrupting the gentle sway of the porch swing. “To our home?”
“Why not?”
“For one, he’s my patient. I can’t bring home everyone I nurse back to health.”
Da chuckled. “No, of course you can’t. But Mr. Blackeyes is different, wouldn’t you say? I mean, you were burdened for him right from the beginning. We all prayed for him, and God answered by sparing the man’s life and saving his soul. That warrants a dinner invitation, I think.”
“If you say so, Da.”
“Well, I do.”
Renna’s heart began to pound. It would be better if she distanced herself from her pirate, but instead he’d take part in a family outing tomorrow. Suddenly Renna couldn’t seem to shake the feeling of impending doom.
SEVEN
The next morning the sun shone brightly through her bedroom windows. Despite her misgivings, Renna dressed with care. Mum assisted her with her corset and crinoline and didn’t say a word about Renna’s fussing with her appearance more so than any other day.
Gratitude mixed with relief filled Renna. She couldn’t figure it out herself and didn’t want to discuss the matter. Then, with her camisole and petticoat in place, she selected a lilac-colored poplin dress from her closet. Pulling it over her head, she chided herself for what might well be vanity. True, it was Sunday, and Renna wanted to look her best for church. But she also had to admit that she enjoyed dressing in something other than her gray nursing garb with its stiff white apron that she wore at the hospital. She wanted to look pretty today.
And, of course, it had nothing to do with the fact Mr. Blackeyes would spend the afternoon with her and
her family. Far be it that she’d try to impress him, not that she’d be successful if he had his sight back.
Goose! She peered at her reflection in the looking glass. You’re acting as though you’re sixteen years old and without an ugly birthmark on your face.
Irritated with herself, she whirled from the mirror and finished dressing. Minutes later she left her room and ambled downstairs to meet her parents for breakfast. She wondered what on earth had happened to her common sense and when it took flight. Perhaps discovering that Mr. Blackeyes was a widower with four children had touched upon her female sensibilities. Or maybe finding out that, indeed, he was something of a pirate piqued her natural curiosity. Did he frighten her? Just a little. But why?
Seconds later the answer came to her. If her pirate could see, then he wouldn’t likely be so friendly toward her. She, the nurse with the purple blemish on her face, would never compare to the pampered and powdered ladies of society with whom he probably associated.
“Not that it even matters!” she muttered, clearing the table after she and her parents had eaten.
“Did you say something, dear?” Mum removed her apron.
“Oh, no . . . nothing.” An embarrassed heat crept into Renna’s cheeks. She quickly strode to the hallway and pulled on her gloves. Next she donned her bonnet.
As she stepped out onto the front porch, a sweet, fresh scent filled her nostrils: Lake Michigan breezes. Renna inhaled deeply. A gentle wind tousled the treetops overhead, rustling faded leaves and dappling the walkway with sunlight.
Mum stepped in beside her. “My, what a lovely morning.”
“Indeed.” Renna smiled. An idea struck. “Let’s take a picnic lunch to the lake today.”
“A splendid idea, my dear. We’ll come home after lunch and prepare it. Then we’ll pick up Mr. Blackeyes.”
With a sigh, Renna resigned herself to the idea. At least the man wouldn’t be in her home, and the fresh air would do him good.
Da brought the carriage around. Arm in arm, Renna and her mother walked from the porch to the street and boarded the awaiting vehicle.
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