No! She’d never let that happen. When her patient recovered, she must move on. A hospital would be a much better fit for her services. There, no one patient would take precedence over another, the bonding would be nil, and her heart would stay intact.
Perhaps the headmistress of the nursing school had not read her character as well as she’d first concluded. In her opinion, she was fickle and too tender-hearted to care for one lonely soldier. Nurse Gwendolyn would move on as soon as this emergency passed.
But what if it didn’t pass? What if Daniel never wakened?
She hurried to the window at the sound of a buggy to see Arthur in the driver’s seat and Mr. McAlister—and she supposed, the town doctor—in the back. As soon as the wheels stopped turning, Daniel’s father jumped to the ground, and she witnessed true concern in his face, unlike the accusation she’d experienced in his wife’s.
The door burst open, and the men entered. They ignored her and rushed into Daniel’s bedroom. She sucked in a deep breath and followed them inside.
The doctor examined the patient while the three bystanders watched on. When he was done, he lifted his eyes to address Gwen. “Nurse, I was told of your heroics in rescuing the child and notice you are still wearing the damp clothes from the cold river water. I suggest you go and change immediately. You do not want to get sick, and cleanliness is important when tending to your patient. We will speak when you return.”
Gwen chided herself. Hygiene had, of course, been the number-one lesson pounded into her head at the nursing school. In her concern to get Daniel settled, she’d forgotten about her appearance. Her dress draped limply over her body, and her hair, now loosened from its combs, took on a tangled mess that no woman would ever wear in public, let alone her workplace.
“Yes, Doctor. I’ll be back shortly.” She glanced at Mrs. McAlister, who openly looked down her long nose at her departing employee.
All the way to her room, Gwen bit back the critical description that wanted to label the woman’s behavior as snobbish, but in all honesty, Mrs. McAlister had every right to expect that she be focused on the young Daniel McAlister. The truth was that the relapse would have happened if he’d been under her nose or squirming on the shoreline while she saved his son.
Surely, a grandmother would appreciate the risk she’d taken. Then again, maybe not. Who could figure out the minds of the wealthy upper-class? Daniel had been refreshingly different, but he might not have been so had he awakened and remembered his upbringing. One thing she knew for certain: she wouldn’t tolerate loving a snob, and she would terminate her assignment at the McAlister Plantation promptly.
After washing up, she changed into a serviceable dress and put her starched, white bib-apron over top, swearing she’d never take it off as Daniel had suggested. She looked at the cap she’d wrapped in tissue paper so carefully and debated wearing it. She was in the presence of a real doctor, and he might expect her to look like a real nurse on duty instead of a glorified nanny and what boiled down to an enabler for an ex-soldier in a state of confusion. She felt embarrassed at her role there and almost grateful for the opportunity to use her nursing skills again.
She scolded herself. It had come at the price of a man slipping into a coma—surely, she was not that self-centered and callus. She was no better than his arrogant mother. Neither of them knew what to do with their feelings for the man lying unconscious in his bed.
With cap pinned into her upsweep, she hurried next door.
Chapter 11
The McAlisters were at the table, sipping the tea Gwen had prepared for Daniel, should he awaken.
“The doctor would like you to go in, Nurse Gwendolyn,” Mr. McAlister told her, “and I’d like to thank you for your heroic deed in saving the young lad. Arthur speaks very highly of you.”
She nodded and watched Mrs. McAlister squirm as she buried her face inside her tea cup. At least one of them thought the young McAlister was worth saving.
Gwen hurried to Daniel’s bedroom and closed the door gently behind her. The doctor was busy examining the patient, but he did glance up to acknowledge her presence. “Looking much more professional, Nurse Gwendolyn,” he said. “You must keep up proper appearances. The field of medicine is a noble profession and deserves respect from our patients.”
“Yes, sir,” she said. “What can I do to help Mr. McAlister?”
“He is not responding to me, and I have no idea how long he will stay in a coma this time.”
“It’s happened before?”
“His original file from the war zone stated that he arrived at the make-shift hospital on the back of a wagon. His physical injuries were great, and there was talk of amputation. When he came to and discovered the plan for his leg along with his memory loss, the lad went crazy. Stole the sheet clipped at the bottom of the bed. It provided little personal information other than that his name was Daniel, and he was scheduled to lose a leg. I don’t blame the boy for running with news like that.”
“Soldiers suffer such pain and loss. It’s a wonder how any came back sane,” Gwen said.
“He disappeared from the infirmary one night. The
