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.
