The bulky dress clung to her as she waded toward the tiny figure bobbing in and out of the water.
Jake was facing heavenward, so he was not drowning, at least, not yet. He moved faster than she could in her load of cumbersome clothing, which slowed her progress. Gwen was not prepared when she lost her footing, and the shallow waters plummeted her to new depths. Her head disappeared underwater and resurfaced a moment later, her mouth spewing and choking out river water. Gwen’s feet no longer touched the pebbly bottom, and she experienced a stab of sudden panic, but she bit her lip and forced her mind to focus on survival, for both her and Jake.
Concern for her patient writhing in agony on the shoreline was swept to a deeper place as she scanned the water to relocate the child. Yes, he was still right-side up. She whispered a prayer of thanks and asked for a dose of strength to cover the distance separating them. Her arms moved in a new rhythm, one over the other in long strides just as she’d been taught. The steady beat of her anxious heart spurred her forward, and before long, she gained a glimpse of hope that she might reach the child before the swirling mass of water in the distance pulled him under for good.
Her insides groaned for relief, and with one final stretch of her arm, she grabbed hold of the infant.
Jake stopped drifting, and she pulled him toward her. She noticed the swelling of a bump on his head, but otherwise, the child lay peacefully unconscious. At least she did not have to deal with a squirming toddler on the swim back. The twirling circle of water was so close she could feel the beginning of its pull.
She lay on her back with Jake on her chest, and using the power of her hips and lower body, kicked her feet like a bullfrog, back in the direction of safety. Pumping, praying, clinging to the tiny form depending on her to see another day in this world became painstakingly difficult with every breath. Her throat stung, and her arms and legs felt numb, but she labored on, determined to make it back to shore.
The stolen kiss that had changed everything came to mind. Its sweet, tantalizing distraction had almost killed Jake, and God only knew Daniel’s state as he struggled on the grassy shore. He had been her sole responsibility, and yet, in a moment of crisis, she’d chosen to save his baby instead of him. She’d failed miserably at her first nursing assignment. Back at the school, the long-anticipated medical posting had never once included the notion of surrendering romantically to her patient. Yet, try as she might to deny it, it had happened nonetheless.
Push…kick…breathe. Her mind grew fuzzy, but a quick glance behind encouraged her. The shoreline was in sight, not so far away. The Lord had gotten her this far; He would see them through to safety.
When her back hit the shallow, rocky floor, she sat upright, and a long sigh of relief filled her lungs. She peered closer at the baby and listened for his heart, which beat miraculously normally. It appeared that the bump on his head had just put him to sleep long enough to keep him floating upright, rather than being pulled underwater. She lifted him into her arms and struggled to stand.
Then, she remembered Daniel and panicked. She searched the area but could see nothing. Her drenched dress held back her progress as she picked her way across the protruding, slippery rocks. When she hit the grass, she called out. “Daniel!” Fear rose in her heart. “Daniel!” she yelled louder.
A head popped up over a small knoll and waved to her. “Nurse Gwen—hurry!”
Her aching legs found new strength as they carried her toward Arthur. What was he doing there? Daniel had given him the afternoon off.
When she had reached the wagon, she noted that Arthur and his cousin had managed to get Daniel inside the bed of their wagon.
Mable met Gwen, her voice peaking on hysterics. “There’s no blood or hurt to fix on the outside. I couldn’t stop him from screaming out from some unseen pain he’s feeling on the inside. He finally just fell unconscious. We need to get him home so you can tend to him.”
Gwen passed the baby—who was now squirming and beginning to cry—to Mable. “The child is not hurt,” Gwen told her. “Would you mind him for me?”
“Yes, Miss.”
With the responsibility of the baby lifted from her shoulders, the guilt began to set in. Daniel was her patient, and she’d left him alone on the beach to suffer in agony alone. Would he be grateful or hate her for abandoning him to save the son he hadn’t known existed until a short time ago?
Gwen took the blanket Arthur offered and climbed into the back of his buckboard. She glanced at the carriage, and he nodded. “I’ll come back for it and the other things later. Let’s get Danny home.”
Arthur had called him Danny for the first time since she’d known him, the boyish name they’d no doubt shared while romping around on the plantation, carrying out their mischievous pranks.
Gwen rested Daniel’s head in her lap. His face portrayed lines of anguish, and she knew wherever his mind had escaped to in his unconscious state, it was not peaceful. Daniel’s pulse raced, and his chest moved up and down in short rapid breaths.
She snuggled in closer to him, hoping he might gain comfort and assurance that someone was near. Gwen had failed him miserably, and the crying of the child in the front did nothing to ease her guilt.
Daniel or Jake—how did one measure the value of a life? In a split second
