A Nurse for Daniel
A Nurse for Daniel
Nursing the Heart Romance
Book 7
MARLENE BIERWORTH
Copyright © 2020 Marlene Bierworth
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without written permission of the author, Marlene Bierworth, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Disclaimer
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, character and events are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locals is purely coincidental.
About the Book
Gwen has graduated The Harrow School of Nursing and is sent to assist a recovering patient at the McAlister Plantation in Kentucky. Besides a bum-leg, a close-range blast during a Civil War battle has stolen all of Daniel’s childhood memories, and he now struggles with fitting into his old life, or finding motivation to begin anew. He underestimates the determination of the nurse his father hires, and is ill-prepared for the fight to win back his body, soul, and mind.
When the unexpected baby is delivered to the McAlister doorstep, it changes everything for the couple who are just beginning to see beyond Daniel’s healing and into a possible future together. Can love survive misplaced duty and provide freedom for romance in the aftermath of a past that threatens it all?
Join Daniel and Gwen in this heartwarming story of new beginnings.
Table of Contents
Cover
Copyright
About the Book
Table of Contents
Chapters 1 through 14
Epilogue
About the Series
Author’s Bio & Contact Information
Chapter 1
May of 1868
Gwendolyn received the notice to report to the headmaster’s office the next day, promptly at one o’clock. Any fatigue she’d felt prior to the note fell by the wayside. She’d tossed all night long, anticipating her assignment, and at the first light of day, began a tedious toilet routine to ensure her appearance was worthy of the high-calling of her new status. Cleanliness was next to godliness, or so her teachers had instructed in a no-nonsense manner. Gwendolyn had taken it to heart and displayed an immaculate stature at all times, which put her in good stead with the director of nurses.
Five days ago, she’d completed the necessary schooling at the Harrow School of Nursing in Maryland and received her hard-earned diploma. She was not at the top in her class—which continued to irritate her—but her final mark landed somewhere in the respectable middle of graduates and she’d just have to live with it.
Success obtaining perfection in home management had come easy, but there was so much more to consider when it came to caring for the sick and working in the growing world of medicine. Gwendolyn’s competitive nature had occasionally irritated her fellow band of dedicated women but it never alienated them. She had grown close to many of her classmates over the three-month program, and her heart cried a little more each time one headed off, eager to begin their new posting, while she remained waiting for Constance Harrow’s summons.
When it finally came, the directive did not bring the relief for which she’d hoped, but terror. What if the woman put her in some remote town of hillbilly heathens? She chided herself that she should be grateful for the opportunity, not only to nurse within the community but to reach them for Christ.
Waiting brought out the worst of Gwendolyn’s character, but it would soon be over.
She strolled through the reception area where the ceremony had taken place, feeling small beneath the high, U-shaped ceilings and carved, wooden beams. No one from her family had attended the spring graduation service to cheer her on to her new vocation. She hadn’t expected her father to make the trip from nearby Baltimore: For no one quite measured up to his strict standards, and leaving his successful tailor’s business in the city, just to see his grown daughter receive a degree in nursing, would not have entered his mind. It was his firm belief she should be home, entertaining suitors. Gwendolyn had held onto the hope that Mother would have made an effort, but it appeared she’d used the event to remind the disillusioned woman-child of her anger at her ridiculous desire for independence: She was of the opinion that women belonged at home, supervising her husband’s household, not traipsing the countryside.
She sighed—their attitudes were old battles that she was not willing to fight anymore.
The morning dragged on, but it was better waiting there than at home, where hostility hung in the air like a thick curtain announcing the end of the production that was her childhood. Gwendolyn checked the hands on the grandfather clock in the downstairs lobby every ten minutes. She stood diligently by when the long hand crept toward the twelve, and the shorter one pointed to the number one. Gwendolyn ran her palms nervously down the folds of her dress and pushed a rebellious strand of flaxen hair behind her ear.
At the door to the office, Gwendolyn cast her eyes heavenward, placing her future in His capable hands.
A curt voice answered her knock and Gwendolyn turned the knob and walked in. “Good afternoon, Ms. Harrow.”
“And to you, my dear. Sit down. I have good news.”
Gwendolyn sat on the edge of a cushioned chair, straight across from the woman who would start her on the next adventure in life.
“Thank you for your patience in the selection process. I attempt to place each nurse in an environment that I think best fits her temperament.”
Gwendolyn nodded politely but hid any sign of a smile. The administrator considered this final stage serious business and would take it as a personal insult if a graduate should make light of her in-depth