Healing of the Heart: A Shumard Oak Bend Novel (Discerning God’s Best Book 4)

Chapter 7

August, 1871Pennsylvania HospitalTeddy

“There you go, young man. Is that more comfortable?” Teddy assisted the bony shoulders of her most trying patient to his resting place. Gray and white strands feathered across the pillow, blending into the crisp linen.

“Young man? I’ll have you know I’d have snatched you off your feet and kissed you senseless by now if I were still a young man. A woman as pretty as you has no business working in a place like this. You should be home raising babies.”

There were so many things wrong with every one of Mr. Zingle’s inappropriate statements. Maintaining professionalism and being kind wasn’t hard for Teddy; moving fast enough to stay away from the old man’s hand—and keeping from rolling her eyes—was.

“I’ll be back in an hour to check on you.” Teddy nearly reminded him to get some rest but didn’t want to hear the quip he’d likely say in response.

Armilda stood at the end of the hall, clipboard in hand, her pencil moving across the page. Her friend didn’t have any issues with patients. Her thick Romanian accent, soft and melodic, yet somehow slightly monotone, came across as no-nonsense. Add her steely gazes to her sturdy bone structure and ramrod-straight posture, and Armilda had no trouble keeping patients from running roughshod over her. Not even Dr. Whitaker bothered the beautiful nurse.

Armilda pointed the tip of her pencil toward Teddy’s forehead, making small circles with the tip. “Those lines in your face will become permanent if you don’t unfold that brow.”

Teddy repeated the statement in her mind before finally realizing Armilda meant she should smooth out her face. She used her right hand to rub at her temples, the action helping to steady her nerves and release the creases her friend continued to point at.

Armilda slid her pencil into her smooth bun. “Ah, Mr. Zingle. He can be a handful, but he doesn’t bother me. I’m happy to cover his care, if you’d prefer.”

“I’m fine. He’s just a degenerate lecher.” Teddy watched confusion flit through Armilda’s eyes as if the woman was processing the comment. “You know, an old fuddy-duddy.” Armilda’s head cocked slightly, and Teddy simplified her word choices. “Let’s just say he should know better.”

“True. Fuddy-duddy?” The words spoken in staccato tempo with Armilda’s rounded lips in a tight circle made the word sound more like foody-doody. The last of Teddy”s tension evaporated.

“Ladies.” The head nurse tapped her toe on the tile floor.

Teddy held back a giggle, thinking about how the tapping might reverberate all the way up to the woman’s ample backside, causing her to look like an excited puppy. The head nurse cleared her throat.

“Yes, Miss Rutherfordton. We were discussing a patient. We’ve settled the issue.” Teddy’s clipped words mimicked the responses she once had given as a war nurse responding to a superior officer.

“If you have time to talk, you aren’t doing your job.” The woman looked over her spectacles at Teddy.

“Yes, ma’am,” Teddy responded. When the woman turned, Teddy looked at Armilda. She was as relaxed as before, pencil back in hand, filling out paperwork. Nothing seemed to bother the woman. Dr. Whitaker wouldn’t dare speak inappropriately to Armilda, but what of the other nurses?

Teddy considered her shift-mate a work friend, but they’d never done more than enjoy a break together on the rare occasion they’d had the opportunity. Should she speak to her about what was happening?

As if thinking the man’s name had conjured up the devil himself, Dr. Whitaker walked through the door, a young man at his heels. Oxygen evaporated from the hall. Teddy fought for breath. She glanced at Armilda, who gave no acknowledgement of either man’s presence.

Dr. Whitaker bypassed the beauty and moved toward Teddy, barking orders to the harried man, who furiously made notes, his face firm in concentration. Teddy fought the urge to take a step back. Instead, she pushed her clipboard up and out as if trying to position it better in the dim hall light.

Even from this distance, she smelled Dr. Whitaker’s potent scent. She didn’t like that it affected her. The strong cologne should repulse her, but it smelled of money, power, and freedom, all wrapped up in a carefree life of trips to the ocean in summer and the mountains in autumn. Things as unattainable as the moon.

“Do not let him get to you,” Teddy whispered. The words strengthened her resolve. She turned her back on the men and marched from the frying pan back into the fire, as her late mother would have said.

Thankfully, Mr. Zingle’s eyes were closed as she slipped behind the curtain to his bed area. His breathing was steady, and Teddy pulled the wool blanket up to his neck. He may be a miserable patient, but God had created the man in His own image, and even he was precious in God’s sight.

Teddy refilled Mr. Zingle’s water and placed the cup within the man’s reach for when he awoke. Asleep, he could be any child’s sweet grandfather. Crow’s feet creeped out from beneath his bushy eyebrows. His dry lips vibrated with each intake of breath, which resembled a grumble on his exhale.

She felt Dr. Whitaker’s presence before she heard him. He sidled up next to her, much closer than necessary, and took the chart from her hands.

Teddy remained still for several moments, eyes trained on the slow rise and fall of the patient’s chest. She could be strong like Armilda. She remained firmly planted until she could stand it no more. Putting on her sternest nurse’s expression, she whirled around, ready to face the man she would not allow to take advantage of her any longer.

He thrust the chart at her. She took it and felt his fingers graze her hand. She stifled a shiver and focused on the man still writing furiously behind Dr. Whitaker.

Dr. Whitaker turned to the man. “Don’t just stand there; we have more ground to cover.”

Teddy turned her focus on her patient and waited for the sound of two sets of shoes to leave the partitioned area. Though it was small enough that she could easily see the entirety of its contents in one quick scan, she double-checked the area. Teddy peeked her head outside the door and saw the polished shoes of the young man following coat tails, leaving the same way they’d come. Armilda looked up long enough to shrug one shoulder, her graceful neck tilting slightly toward the closing door. Teddy returned the gesture, breathed a sigh of relief, and moved on to her next patient.

“How are you this evening, Mr. Pane?” Teddy knew the man would not verbally respond. Extensive surgery to his jaw made it impossible. The man blinked once. “Good. Let me check your vitals, then I’ll let you get some rest.” Her hands still shook from her encounter; staying busy helped.

Any surgery carried risk, but this hospital had adopted the research of the Hungarian doctor Ignaz Semmelweis and understood the importance of cleanliness. And thanks to new advances in anesthesia where chloroform replaced ether, she dealt less with the trauma side of what patients endured during their procedures.

Though she experienced the occasional death of a patient, most individuals improved daily after surgery with her ministrations. Post-surgery care was her favorite floor to work on. Patients were more likely to die during an operation than after, which had not been true during the war. Gangrene had often set in, killing even the healthiest soldiers.

“Rest well, Mr. Pane. I’ll check on you again in an hour.” Teddy smoothed her apron before stepping around the curtain and into the next patient area. “Miss Lily, you’re supposed to be sleeping.” Teddy moved to the child’s bedside. “Are you in much pain?”

Dampness clung to her limp, dull hair, but the girl’s eyes were bright as she attempted to nod. Teddy felt her forehead for fever and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Miss Lily, cleft palate surgery is difficult, but you’ve had good care and are recovering nicely.” Teddy checked the girl’s pulse and blood pressure, then used a damp cloth to wipe away the tears. She smoothed the hair clinging to her temples.

“It isn’t quite time for your medication, but I have something that might help.” Teddy pulled the vial from her apron and kept it hidden in her hand. She pulled the stopper and placed a drop of the liquid on each temple. Lily closed her eyes and inhaled.

“Lavender is my favorite for moments of stress.” Teddy replaced the stopper and lifted the blue glass to the ceiling light. She’d need to refill it soon. The bottle sank to the bottom of her apron pocket, and Teddy rubbed her fingers together, spreading the calming scent.

A buxom woman entered. “Sorry, Miss Teddy. I done needed to visit the . . .” The woman dropped her gaze.

Teddy smiled at the dark eyes and familiar face. “Not to worry, Mammy. I know that straight-backed chair isn’t the most comfortable place to sleep. Can I bring you anything?” Teddy would get a scolding if she provided for this child’s personal caregiver, but she couldn’t help but ask. The woman had been by Lily’s side throughout surgery and these many weeks of recovery.

“No, ma’am. The Davenport family takin’ care of me and my Lily.” The woman patted a basket beside her, then lifted a quilt square to her lap.

“What beautiful handiwork. Don’t let the doctors see those stitches, or you’ll make them jealous.” The color in the woman’s cheeks deepened as she dipped her head. Teddy turned her focus to her patient. “Miss Lily, you try to get some rest.”

Teddy refrained from leaning down to kiss the girl’s forehead. Her nursing duties required her to squelch the desire to do more than the hospital permitted, even though she’d already broken the unwritten rules by sharing her personal lavender with the girl. She moved her finger over the girl’s forehead lines, willing the child to relax. Mammy hummed a low, haunting tune. Teddy felt the skin relax, even though the girl’s tears did not.

The clop of Teddy’s heels on the tile floor reverberated in the open expanse of the large convalescing room, making the mewling sound of Lily’s crying more pitiful. Teddy leaned against the outer wall and made notes, checking the time on the ticking hall clock. She watched the second hand move up the left side. Lily would get medicine for her pain in one more hour.

Teddy checked and charted patients, cleaned the floor from one patient’s retching, assisted with bed pans, refilled waters, and restocked supplies. Her feet ached. She may have time to sit for a few minutes while the moon was still high if she didn’t give into idleness—or fear. Snores and moans crept from behind the heavy curtains that hung from the ceiling, allowing patients some privacy, but little sound barrier.

Teddy looked at the door at the end of the large room. Dr. Whitaker was likely home with his family, sipping an expensive port and smoking a nasty cigar. None of this week’s patients required additional after-hour visits from the man. Teddy felt her body relax.

It was well past sunrise, and her heart felt light even though she’d worked an extra half hour. She thanked the Lord for the extra funds and the strength to endure her hardships as she walked home. She’d not stood up to the man, but she had faced him. Not in her own power—she knew, but she’d allowed the Holy Spirit to work in her place.

There was a spring in her step even though she was tired. Teddy whistled the tune she’d taught the children during Sunday School the week before. The lilting, catchy refrain formed on her lips, and she sang as she walked.

I am so glad that Jesus loves me,Jesus loves me, Jesus loves me;I am so glad that Jesus loves me,Jesus loves even me.

Teddy entered the quiet boarding house, hurrying to her room. Today, nothing would keep her from her Bible time.