“Until he landed in the town where that girl, Shannon, took an interest in his welfare,” Gwen said.
“So I heard. That kind of backfired,” he said, chuckling and glancing at the door. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Daniel’s latest escapades while he was hiding out hit the grapevine a few days back. Seems to have gotten himself a baby out of that lady’s so-called-interest.”
“Jake is a wonderful child, and Daniel is beginning to warm to him. I think father and son will help each other heal from their identity crises.”
“If the man lives—no two concussions are the same.”
“He didn’t hit his head. He just had a fierce pain that proved too much to bear.”
“Yeah, well, hopefully, he will come back to us without the pain, and it will be as you said between the baby and his father.” He pulled the sheet up to Daniel’s chest. “Keep him warm and bathe his lips with water. If he doesn’t awaken soon, I fear we will have lost him.”
“I shall not cease praying, and I will do as you say. There is a nutritious broth simmering on the stove for when he wakes.”
“Slow and easy with the food.” He began replacing his tools into the black bag. “I will stop by tomorrow afternoon to see if there is any improvement. Meanwhile, I pass the patient’s care over into your capable hands.”
“And his parents—are they allowed to sit with him?”
“They will do as they please, Nurse Gwendolyn. You will not stop them.”
Gwen agreed with that remark. She’d encourage them to visit and speak to their son. She waited while the doctor spoke to the McAlisters, using the time to open the curtain and let what remained of the sunlight fall on Daniel’s face. The stress lines had softened, and he lay as a young man who might have merely been asleep on the late afternoon Sabbath.
She soaked a cloth in cool water and pressed the liquid to his lips. “Now, Daniel McAlister, the time for sleep is over. I need to see those playful eyes open and hear you tell me that everything is all right. Your son is safe and under Mable’s care. The doctor says that only you can order yourself awake, so you’d best hurry before it refuses to function as it should. I don’t want to scare you, but I’ve seen many men slip away, never to return to the land of the living. You have responsibilities now, and that is not an option for you.”
Gwen looked at the door and noticed that it was still firmly shut. “And Daniel, the stolen kiss asked all kinds of questions between us that you need to address. I beseech you to come back to the land of the living. I miss you.”
She paced about Daniel’s room and noticed a wall of photos. Gwen took one and brought it to his bedside. “Danny—that’s what Arthur called you when you were children, and you likely called him Artie. He’s in this picture with you. A fishing buddy, but perhaps more. He is anxious for your recovery. He says that he misses the friend of his youth. You should have fished with the man after your return to the plantation. He could have helped you to remember so many good things.”
No lashes flickered as she talked, seemingly to herself, but she couldn’t seem to stop. “So, shame on you, Mr. McAlister. True friendship is rare, and harder to maintain in this crazy new world we find ourselves in. You and Arthur both returned from the war alive and should count yourself among the blessed.” She wondered if she should jolt him with the truth of their relationship, or if he could even hear her babbling. “It is more than hearsay for some at the row houses that Arthur is perhaps closer than a friend, even closer than David and Jonathon in the Bible. Rumor has it that your father sired him many years ago.”
A throat cleared from the doorway, and she twirled around to see Daniel’s parents standing there, staring at her, unsmiling and condemning.
“You would do well not to listen to rumors, let alone feed the grapevine by voicing them,” Mr. McAlister said.
“I’m sorry if I spoke out of turn. Daniel is not awake. I was merely filling the air with soft, conversational tones to comfort him. There are studies that suggest…”
“My son need not be comforted by lies, Nurse Gwendolyn,” Mrs. McAlister said. She appeared quite convinced, but her husband neither denied it nor agreed to the possibility.
“Perhaps you can rest a few minutes while my wife and I sit with Daniel. We shall endeavor to speak to him, as well, and hope that he understands that we do care about his recovery.”
Gwen nodded, hung the picture back on its wall hook, and fled from the room. She closed the door behind her and collapsed against it. Of all the things for the couple to overhear!
In the kitchen, she tasted the broth and smiled. At least she could still make a remedy for good healing.
She moved the pot to the cooler side of the stove to simmer, grabbed the handle of the kettle with her apron, and poured a cup of tea. At the table, she wallowed in her blunders of the day and pondered the fact that she actually still remained employed. Whether they liked it or not, she filled a position they were not willing to take on themselves, so her job seemed secure for the time being. Daniel had become a burden to them, and if he lived through this setback, Gwen would see to it that he pushed forward with his forestry dream
