“Oh, Daniel—please, wake up.”
Gwen pulled the rocker closer to the bed, and covered herself with a blanket. The last thing she saw before sleep overtook her was the steady up and down of his chest, and she prayed for a healing rest to descend upon him.
Chapter 12
Sometime in the night, Gwen felt a presence, and her eyes bolted open to find Daniel staring at her silently. She bounded to her feet, the blanket dropped to the floor, and she clung to his hand.
“Daniel,” she whispered. He continued to stare, and the short-lived enthusiasm died on her lips. “Daniel?”
“That is my name,” came a low voice, barely audible.
“And what is my name?” she asked, fear trembling through her words.
“Nurse Gwen.” He had recognized her, but that was not the endearment she longed to hear.
“Yes, how are you feeling?”
“I have a headache.”
“No doubt. Your head is what put you to bed,” Gwen said. “What do you remember of our time at the river?”
His eyes clouded over and she began to fear she might have rushed him.
“If you’re not ready to discuss it, we can wait. It’s enough that you are awake. I have broth on the stove. Are you hungry?”
He nodded, and she headed for the door. “I’ll be right back. Just rest.”
Five minutes later, she returned with the lukewarm liquid in a bowl. At least, it wouldn’t burn his lips.
The fire had dwindled and nearly gone out while she’d slept on the job. It was another blunder about which she would probably hear from her employers.
While she spooned the broth into his mouth, he stared openly at her, as if he were trying to place her in his mind. Had he forgotten the kiss, the growing affection that had built between them during her stay at the plantation? His mind was fragile, and she was eager to know its state upon awakening, but she would not press him.
When he shook his head no, refusing another spoonful of broth, she placed the bowl to the side, removed the cloth napkin from under his chin, and dabbed at his mouth, and offered him a drink.
“Can you drink this alone?”
Again, he nodded. He took the tumbler.
She hurried from the room with the dish and soiled napkin, bombarding the heavens anew with new prayers of thanksgiving on Daniel’s behalf all the while. A few moments later, she could not resist returning, so she crept quietly in and noted that his eyes were closed.
Gwen resumed her position in the rocker, and he turned suddenly to face her. “Thank you. For the soup.”
“You’re welcome,” Gwen said. “What can I do to make you more comfortable?”
“The question is, what can I do to make you more comfortable? It’s a wonder your neck is not cricked with pain, sleeping in a rocking chair.”
“You are my patient,” she said clumsily.
“And you are a dedicated nurse. Did I ever tell you, that I’m grateful you came to the plantation?”
She smiled, pleased he knew where he was. “Your parents have reason to question my presence on these grounds. I failed you miserably.”
“How so?”
“At the river,” she said hesitantly. “I left you writhing in pain on the shore, and chose to rescue Jake instead.”
“Jake, my son? I have no doubt that you saved his life while I failed miserably. You are a strong woman, with unexpected talents.”
“I learned to swim as a child. My mother always claimed I was part fish,” she said. “And, yes, Jake is safe. He’s sleeping with Mable in the row house.”
She watched his face darken, and he turned away. “What’s the matter, Daniel? Tell me what’s going on in your head.”
“A settling of the waves.” His voice was distant. “I remember all of it—the horror of the war, my childhood, and the cursed day little Frankie died and I was too preoccupied to even notice.”
Gwen looked downcast. “And it happened again, today. You and I were…preoccupied, and we didn’t notice that Jake had stirred from his nap and wandered to the water.”
“I swore it would never happen again.” Daniel bit hard on his bottom lip to silence the anger welling inside him. He lifted a hand and rubbed his forehead. “Rotten headache. I hope it never leaves and remains a constant reminder of the idiot I am.”
“You are not an idiot!” Gwen said. “We made a mistake, but this time we were able to save the life—Jake is fine.”
“You saved his life. I cowered, much like the sorry soldier I was.”
“This is a lot for you to comprehend at once. Please, stop the condemnation and look at the positive outcome. Your son is safe, and you have regained your memory.”
“It was better in the dark. I was beginning to like myself, but now I have to somehow blend my newfound character into the mold of the original Master Daniel McAlister, heir to this grand piece of landscape.”
“And grand it is. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You can merge the new man with the old and start fresh like countless others who have known grief these last years, your parents included.”
“They grieved for a son that doesn’t exist anymore. Too much has happened.” He grew silent, then blurted out, “I have debts to repay.”
“Such as?”
“Jake’s mother abandoned her child because she couldn’t afford to stay single. I need to right that.”
“According to her note, she is married to a wealthy man and pleased
