“You need to know that I did not want you here.”
“I believe you have mentioned that before, and personally, I don’t care. Your father has hired me to do a job, and I never back down from a challenge.”
“So, that’s what I’ve become: a challenge?”
“At your own hand, sir.” She picked up her skirts to keep the hem off the ground. “Follow me.” He watched her for a minute until she glanced back to see if he’d obeyed her order. “This way,” she persisted, sweeping her arm forward. When he noticed she’d reach the boundary of the north field, he grabbed his cane and hurried to catch up.
She was bent over a new plant but stood when he joined her. “Mr. McAlister, do you see all these green shoots sprouting from the rich black earth?”
“Sure. It’s called a crop.”
“Yes, but will it grow without turning the soil, planting the seed, the sun, the rain, and the hands of good men to harvest it? What if that little seed said, ‘I don’t feel like leaving the comfortable warm earth to become what I was meant to be? What if it just laid in the ground and never reached for the life-giving rays or allowed the sweet rain to feed its appetite? What if…”
“All right, Nurse Gwen. You’ve made your point. I’ll add exercise to my daily routine.”
“And how about a different attitude, one that shows gratitude to God that you are still alive and ready to do His service?”
“You drive a hard bargain,” Daniel said, “and we haven’t even reached home yet.”
“Home, Mr. McAlister, is where the heart is. Perhaps we shall find yours in the ruins of this war-torn world in which the Civil War has left us.”
“Perhaps.” Daniel could not stop his lips from curling at the sides. He hadn’t bargained for a spit-fire little nurse who did not know the meaning of backing down. His father would teach her what that meant if she ever got uppity with him. “My name is Daniel. I’d appreciate it if you call me that. The title of mister belongs to the rightful owner of this plantation.”
Gwen smiled, but he saw concern lurking behind her eyes. Why should she care if he considered this his home or not? He supposed it came with a nurse’s heart, which had unhinged him at the core. Daniel wished the school had sent an old, bitter maid to live in the cottage beside him, a tyrant he could manage and keep her under his thumb would have been much easier.
Daniel noted the glow on Gwen’s face streaming through the guise of innocence. Her easy-pat solutions to life’s dilemmas bounced around a huge target but hit the bullseye in one’s soul, where it counted, which was another matter altogether. His insides felt dead. The young, protected maiden had no idea of the scars he carried. Strangely, neither did he. Perhaps he should consider his memory loss a blessing. Yet, to have his identity ripped from his consciousness was proving too much to bear. Daniel’s dreams danced around the secrets of his past every night and managed to keep his distinctiveness buried in a deep grave, one from which he could not climb free.
Chapter 3
The carriage deposited Gwen at the front door of a quaint cottage next to the main chalet where her patient lived. Arthur proceeded to drag her belongings onto the porch. He unlocked the door and handed her the key before dragging the chest and bag the rest of the way inside. Daniel disappeared behind a door to the left of hers and closed it firmly, leaving the driver to manage the hefty load himself. She stroked “gentleman” off the young McAlister’s list of attributes.
“Thank you, Arthur,” she said when she saw a sweat break out on his face. “May I pour you a glass of cold water?” She had no idea if she had access to an indoor pump, but she offered anyway.
“That would be appreciated.”
She hurried to peek into another room, and sure enough, she spotted a galley kitchen on the far side. Once inside the work space, she called back to Arthur, “Yes, we do have water. Please, come and sit for a moment before you return to your duties.”
Arthur left the entrance way and followed her into the main room, standing beside the table while he gulped the cool liquid she provided. When he passed her the glass, she said, “Let me refill it. You have a powerful thirst.”
“Yes, miss.”
Gwen noticed a shadow behind the house servant’s dark eyes. His skin was colored, and she wondered why he hadn’t hit the road with the freed slaves at the end of the war to flee the prejudices of their previous owners. Boldness prevailed, and she asked as he set the empty glass on the table, “Arthur, have you worked for the McAlisters long?”
“My entire life. Went off and joined the Union army for a spell but got homesick. The family treats me decent.”
“I noticed your concern for Daniel—are you two friends?”
“Used to be…sort of. The senior Mr. McAlister never knew when we sneaked off.”
“Ah, a secret friendship from before the war. When you were still under bondage?”
“Yes, miss.” He moved toward the door and she followed.
“It must hurt you that Daniel can’t recall your childhood relationship.”
“I’ve adjusted.”
“Yet you stay and endure the silent pain,” she said.
Arthur turned and surveyed Gwen. “You learn how to study people in that nursing school?”
She laughed. “Afraid it comes naturally, and it has gotten me into trouble in the past. I hope you are not offended.”
“Quite the opposite. With you looking out for Daniel, there
