“Perhaps you can come sit on the porch this evening and enlighten me as to my new charge. Any and all recollections I can use to stimulate his mind will aid me in my work here.”
“Wouldn’t be proper for me to come front porch sitting, miss.”
“You are talking like a slave and not a free man who has time off in the evenings to do as he pleases.”
“Force of habit.”
“One that needs breaking,” she said. “Please, I have brought candy from Maryland, and I will check the supplies left in my cupboard for refreshments. When do you finish work?”
“Seven, miss.”
“Then, I shall expect you shortly after. It will still be daylight, and we shall get acquainted.”
“Does anyone ever say no to you, Nurse Gwen?”
“No one that has survived the aftermath,” she said, chuckling. “My brothers learned to submit after they discovered the hard way that I would not back down.”
“I pray the young master will do likewise. I miss my friend.” He turned and left the cottage.
Gwen took some time to wander around her new home. It was bright, and the smell of the blooming redbuds in the yard blew in from the open windows. A welcoming bouquet of freshly-cut flowers sat in the center of the table. After the long, dreary train ride, she considered the touch of nature to be a thoughtful gesture from her new employers, and she appreciated it. She’d have to thank the mistress of McAlister Plantation for her kindness.
She noticed a small note amongst the flowers. Gwen opened it and read: “I’m sure you need time to settle in and relax after your journey. Plan to come to the big house with Daniel for lunch tomorrow, and afterward, we will discuss your terms of employment. Sleep well, Nurse Peters. Mrs. McAlister.” That was a relief, for fatigue was fast-consuming Gwen, and she feared that she might collapse when she stopped moving.
The sitting room and dining area were one big room, and behind saloon-type swinging doors was a totally functional kitchen. The cupboards were stacked with beautiful dishes, and she paused to admire the flowery-edged pattern—the scavenging of elegant table settings had been her hobby when she had nothing else to occupy her time. A black cookstove sat against one wall, and on the other, a full-length counter space. Inside the pantry, she found food staples and extras on shelves, and in the icebox, caches of meat and dairy products. It appeared she was expected to prepare her own food and eat alone. As it should be, she concluded.
In the back, she discovered two bedrooms: one rather large—which she claimed as her own—and the other slightly smaller. Between the two rooms was a hallway offering storage shelves, which led to a bathroom beyond, tucked a short distance away in a pleasantly decorated back shed. A bathtub and a washing station occupied the left side of the room, and Gwen decided she’d test it out that night after Arthur left. On the right, behind a closed door sat a newly fashioned toilet with a bag of lime to keep it smelling fresh, and a curtained window to help the room’s ventilation.
Back at the entranceway, she opened the chest and began to take armloads into the bedroom. She emptied the trunk of its dresses, unwrapping them from the protective layers and arranging them on the bed. The box of shoes was the first of her things to go inside the enormous wardrobe, and each gown was carefully hung from the high rung. She opened a case and brought out the simpler-styled outfits she’d chosen for work, the white bib-aprons, and one nurse’s cap. Gwen doubted she’d be expected to wear it around the plantation, but if she accompanied Daniel to town, it might be appropriate attire that would define her presence by his side.
She had no doubt the females would soon line up outside his door—if they weren’t already—hoping for an invitation to court. The man appeared to be well past marrying age, but there had been many soldiers that had delayed taking that trip to the altar until after the war—stolen years that had robbed them of playing the field. She suspected Daniel fell into that category. Gwen supposed that the years at war, plus the time spent hiding out, had provided little motivation or desire to secure a wife for a plantation he showed no interest in inheriting.
His love life was none of her business, but his health was. Nurse Gwen would stick to her area of expertise and leave him to the she-predators that would eventually discover the McAllister son’s availability.
The closet held everything Gwen owned easily, and she shut the door with satisfaction and returned to the main part of her room. Not only did it house a four-poster double bed with fluffy pillows and a colorful spread, but two end tables sat on either side of the oak headboard, each with an elegant lantern on top. On the outside wall, a stone fireplace stretched to the ceiling, which would come in handy if she were still there in the fall. On top of the polished wood floor lay an oriental rug and two cozy chairs with a round table between them to complete the décor. A black, leather Bible sat in the middle of the table beside another lantern creating an inviting place to do her nightly readings. Once again, she felt the aura of a pleasant homecoming sweep over her, and she prayed that she was not premature in her love for the place.
The empty trunk and cases were easy to shove down the hall. After opening the door wide, she pushed them against the wall for storage.
She sighed—time for a cup of tea and a light supper. In the kitchen, she decided to skip the hot drink to avoid the need to turn on the
