Chicago, Illinois, September 4, 1866 <\/p>\n
Do you think he\u2019ll live, Dr. Hamilton?\u201d The gray-haired man with bushy whiskers pondered the question for several moments, chewing on his thick lips as he weighed his reply. \u201cYes, I think he will,\u201d he finally said. \u201cOf course, he\u2019s not out of the woods yet, but it seems he\u2019s coming around.\u201d <\/p>\n
Lorenna Fields breathed a sigh of relief. It had been two whole days with nary a sign of life from this half-drowned man, but finally\u2014finally\u2014he showed signs of improvement. <\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ve done a good job with this patient, Nurse Fields.\u201d The physician drew himself up to his full height, which barely met Renna\u2019s five feet six inches. \u201cI don\u2019t think he\u2019d be alive today if you hadn\u2019t given him such extraordinary care.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cThank you, Dr. Hamilton, but it was the Lord who spared this man and the Lord who gave me the strength and skill to nurse him.\u201d The old physician snorted in disgust. \u201cYes, well, it might have had something to do with the fact that you\u2019ve got a brain in your <\/p>\n
head, Nurse Fields, and the fact that you used it too, I might add!\u201d <\/p>\n
Renna smiled inwardly. Dr. Hamilton always disliked it when she gave God the credit for any medical advancement, especially the miracles. Yet Renna\u2019s intelligence and experience weren\u2019t typical of women her age, and she determined to use them to God\u2019s glory. <\/p>\n
The patient moaned, his head moving from side to side. <\/p>\n
\u201cEasy now, Mr. Blackeyes.\u201d Renna placed a hand on the man\u2019s muscular shoulder. \u201cIt\u2019s all right.\u201d She picked up the fever rag from out of the cold water, wrung it once, and set it on the patient\u2019s burning brow. <\/p>\n
Dr. Hamilton snorted again, only this time in amusement. \u201cMr. Blackeyes? How in the world did you come by that name, Nurse Fields?\u201d <\/p>\n
She blushed but replied in all honesty. \u201cIt\u2019s his eyes, Doctor. They\u2019re as black as pitch and as shiny as polished stones. And since we don\u2019t know his true identity, I\u2019ve named him Mr. Blackeyes.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cI see.\u201d Dr. Hamilton could barely contain his laughter. <\/p>\n
\u201cWell, I had to call him something now, didn\u2019t I?\u201d She wrung the fever cloth more tightly. <\/p>\n
\u201cAh, yes, I suppose you did.\u201d Dr. Hamilton gathered his instruments and put them into his black leather medical bag. \u201cWell, carry on, Nurse Fields.\u201d He sounded tired. \u201cIf your patient\u2019s fever doesn\u2019t break by morning, send for me at once. However, I think <\/p>\n
it will, especially since we got some medicine and chicken broth into him tonight.\u201d <\/p>\n
Renna nodded while the old man waved over his shoulder as he left the hospital ward. <\/p>\n
Returning her attention to her patient, Renna saw that he slept for the moment. His blue-black hair, which had just a slight wave to it, shone beneath the dampness of the fever. The stifling late summer heat of the room threatened to bring his temperature even higher. <\/p>\n
Wiping a sleeve across her own beaded brow, Renna continued to sponge down her patient. Poor Mr. Blackeyes had been found floating in Lake Michigan after a terrible storm the past Sunday. The crew of the passing ship that found him had thought he was dead at first. But they pulled him aboard anyway. The ship\u2019s doctor immediately examined him and detected a heartbeat, so he cared for him until the ship docked in Chicago\u2019s harbor. As soon as the sailors could manage it, Mr. Blackeyes was deposited at Mercy Hospital and admitted to the second floor and into Renna\u2019s care. Now, two days later, he finally showed some improvement. <\/p>\n
Pulling the fever rag from the round porcelain bowl filled with cool water, Renna replaced it carefully across Mr. Blackeyes\u2019s forehead. She could tell this man was different from the usual \u201cunknowns\u201d that the hospital acquired. His dark features somehow implied sophistication, even through several days\u2019 growth of beard. And his powerful broad shoulders and muscular arms indicated the strength of a man accustomed to lifting or hoisting. And he was handsome, all right. A lady\u2019s man, no doubt. <\/p>\n
\u201cBut who are you, Mr. Blackeyes?\u201d Renna murmured, gazing down at him. <\/p>\n
As if in reply, the man groaned. <\/p>\n
Renna settled him once more and then slowly stood. She forced her mind to dwell on her other patients as she made her rounds through the sick ward, a large room with whitewashed walls and a polished marble floor. Eight beds, four on each side, were neatly lined in rows, leaving a wide area in the center of the ward. <\/p>\n
Moving from bed to bed, Renna checked each patient, thankful that this ward wasn\u2019t full: only Mr. Anderson, suffering from a farming accident in which he lost his left arm; Mr. Taylor, who had had pneumonia but had recovered and would soon be released; <\/p>\n
and, finally, young John Webster, who had been accidentally shot in the chest by his brother. It appeared the wounded young man wouldn\u2019t live through the night, and his family had gathered around him, his mother weeping. <\/p>\n
Taking pity on the Webster family, Renna set up several wooden screens to allow them some privacy. Then she checked on John. She could see death settling in. She was somewhat accustomed to the sight, as she\u2019d trained in a Union military hospital in Richmond, Virginia, during the Civil War. Still, watching a life slip away never got easier. But in this case Renna took heart that the Websters were people with a strong faith. Young John would soon go home to be with his Savior. <\/p>\n
\u201cCan I get anything for you, Mrs. Webster?\u201d Renna asked the boy\u2019s mother now. <\/p>\n
A tall, very capable-looking woman, she shook her head. Several brunette curls tumbled from their bun. <\/p>\n
Renna asked the same thing of the boy\u2019s brother and father, but both declined. <\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t mean ter shoot \u2019im, Ma!\u201d the brother declared. He suddenly began to sob. <\/p>\n
\u201cAw, I know ya didn\u2019t mean it, son,\u201d Mrs. Webster replied through her own tears. \u201cIt was an accident. That anyone can see!\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cTell it to Jesus, boy.\u201d His father\u2019s eyes were red, his jaw grizzled. \u201cGive the matter to Christ, just like we done gave John over to Him.\u201d <\/p>\n
Renna\u2019s heart was with the family, but she suddenly felt like an intruder. The Websters needed their privacy. Stepping back, she gave them each a sympathetic smile before moving away. <\/p>\n
Walking to the other side of the room now, Renna sat down on the edge of Mr. Blackeyes\u2019s bed and sponged him down again. Afterward, she checked his head wound\u2014nearly a three-inch gash above his left ear. It had needed to be sutured, and Dr. Hamilton <\/p>\n
had seen to that when Mr. Blackeyes was first admitted. \u201cUnknown Male\u201d was the name on his chart. Most \u201cunknowns\u201d didn\u2019t survive, so Renna was heartened that Mr. Blackeyes\u2019s prognosis seemed promising. <\/p>\n
Now if only his fever would break. If only he\u2019d regain consciousness and pneumonia wouldn\u2019t set in. <\/p>\n
Momentarily closing her eyes, Renna prayed for God\u2019s healing of this man. She had been praying earnestly for the last week. Why she felt so burdened for him, she couldn\u2019t say, but she was. <\/p>\n
Suddenly an abrupt command broke her thoughts. \u201cNurse Fields? Nurse Fields, you may go. I\u2019m on duty now.\u201d <\/p>\n
Renna glanced at the doorway where Nurse Rutledge, the night nurse who was also her supervisor, stood. A large woman with beady, dark eyes, she had a no-nonsense way about her. That same stern disposition kept her lips in a perpetual frown. <\/p>\n
\u201cAs usual, your charts are in order.\u201d <\/p>\n
Was that a hint of a smile? Renna guessed not. <\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re excused.\u201d <\/p>\n
Renna replied with a nod. She didn\u2019t dislike the night supervisor, although she wasn\u2019t fond of the woman\u2019s overbearing manner. Still, Nurse Rutledge was in charge. \u201cThank you, ma\u2019am. I\u2019ll just finish up here, and then I\u2019ll be on my way.\u201d <\/p>\n
The older woman came up alongside her. \u201cThe first rule in nursing is, do not get emotionally attached to your patients. You know that.\u201d <\/p>\n
Renna rinsed the fever rag once more and draped it across Mr. Blackeyes\u2019s forehead. \u201cI\u2019m not getting emotionally attached.\u201d Renna felt her conscience prick. \u201cI\u2019m just . . . well, I\u2019m burdened for this man. In the spiritual sense.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cHumph! Call it what you will, Nurse Fields, but I happen to think you\u2019re much too emotional and far too sensitive. It\u2019s a wonder you\u2019ve lasted in nursing this long. Why, I heard from the other nurses on duty today that you were crying with the Webster <\/p>\n
family over their boy.\u201d She sniffed in what seemed like disgust. \u201cA nurse must never let her emotions get in the way of her duty, Nurse Fields.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cYes, ma\u2019am.\u201d Renna endured the rebuke. She\u2019d heard it many times before. <\/p>\n
Nurse Rutledge squared her wide shoulders. \u201cNow, may I suggest that you leave your burden right here in this hospital bed and go home and get some rest? You\u2019re due back here at six a.m., and I\u2019ll expect you promptly!\u201d <\/p>\n
Renna nodded. Then, with a backward glance at Mr. Blackeyes, she left the sick ward. She gathered her things and made her way to the hospital\u2019s main entrance. Outside, she paused and breathed deeply. The air was thick and humid, but it was free from the chloroform and antiseptics that she\u2019d smelled all day. <\/p>\n
She spied a hired hackney, and within minutes, Renna rode the mile to the home she shared with her parents. She was the oldest child in the family, but at the age of thirty, Renna was what society termed \u201ca spinster.\u201d Her two younger sisters were married and <\/p>\n
producing children galore, and her one younger brother and his wife were now expecting their first baby. <\/p>\n
Renna loved all her nieces and nephews. They filled her empty arms when she wasn\u2019t nursing, and Jesus filled her heart. Time and time again, however, Renna was asked by a young niece or nephew, \u201cWhy didn\u2019t you ever get married, Auntie Renna?\u201d And <\/p>\n
her reply was always, \u201cI never fell in love.\u201d <\/p>\n
But the truth of the matter was no man would have her\u2014even if she had fallen in love. The large purplish birthmark on the left side of her face deterred every eligible bachelor. The unsightly thing came down her otherwise flawless cheek to the side of her <\/p>\n
nose and then around down to her jaw, like an ugly purple horseshoe branded into her face. One would think she\u2019d be accustomed to the gawks, stares, and pitying glances sent her way at social functions, but they unnerved her. All dressed up and looking her <\/p>\n
prettiest, Renna still felt marred and uncomely under the scrutiny of her peers\u2014especially when she was in the company of eligible men to whom she was supposed to be attractive and charming. Renna never felt she was either of those. <\/p>\n
Nursing, however, was different. In the hospital Renna felt confident of her abilities. Moreover, her patients were usually too sick or in too much pain to be concerned with her ugly birthmark. <\/p>\n
Rather, they just wanted her care and sensitivity, and that\u2019s what Renna thought she did best . . . in spite of what Nurse Rutledge said about her being too emotional and too sensitive. God in all His grace had given Renna a wondrous work in nursing, and it pleased her to be used in that way. What more could she want? And yet lately\u2014lately Renna desired something more. Was it a sin to feel discontented after so many happy years of nursing? <\/p>\n
The carriage stopped in front of Renna\u2019s house. She climbed out, paid the driver, and then turned to open the little white gate of the matching picket fence around the front yard. A slight breeze blew, and Renna thought it felt marvelous after her sweltering day on the second floor of the hospital. <\/p>\n
\u201cWell, there you are, dear.\u201d Her mother, Johanna Fields, stood with a pair of shears in her hand. She had obviously been pruning the flowers that graced the edge of the wide front porch. \u201cYou\u2019re late tonight, Renna.\u201d She studied her daughter. \u201cMr. Blackeyes? Is he . . . ?\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s still alive.\u201d She stepped toward her mother. \u201cDr. Hamilton thinks he may even live, except he has an awful fever now. We\u2019re hoping it breaks by morning and thatpneumonia doesn\u2019t set in.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cOh, dear . . . \u201d Mum shook her head sadly. \u201cWell, we\u2019ll keep praying, won\u2019t we?\u201d <\/p>\n
Renna gave a nod before Mum hooked arms and led her into the house. <\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve made a light dinner tonight, Renna. Help yourself.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cI appreciate it, but I\u2019m too tired to eat.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cBut you need some nourishment.\u201d Mum fixed a plate of cold beef, sliced tomatoes, and a crusty roll. \u201cHere, sit down at the table.\u201d <\/p>\n
Renna allowed her mother to help her into the chair. After one bite she realized how ravenous she was and cleaned the plate. Minutes later her sister Elizabeth walked in with her twin daughters, Mary and Helena. Delight spread through Renna as the girls toddled into the kitchen. <\/p>\n
\u201cHello, darlings.\u201d She gave each a hug before smiling up at her younger sister. <\/p>\n
\u201cRenna, you look exhausted.\u201d Elizabeth shook her head vehemently, causing strands of her light brown hair to escape their pinning. \u201cYou\u2019ll be old before your time.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cAnd what would you have me do? Sit around the house all day, twiddling my thumbs?\u201d Seeing her sister\u2019s injured expression, she softened her voice. \u201cI\u2019m sorry. I guess I\u2019m more tired than I thought.\u201d <\/p>\n
Elizabeth smiled. \u201cAll\u2019s forgiven.\u201d <\/p>\n
Renna struggled to her feet. Her entire body ached from her long shift. \u201cI\u2019ll have to visit another time. I\u2019m going up to bed.\u201d <\/p>\n
After bidding everyone a good night, Renna climbed the steps leading to the second floor. In her small bedroom she poured water from the large pitcher on her bureau into the chamber basin and then washed away the day\u2019s heat. She pulled her cool, cotton nightgown over her head then took her Bible off the nightstand and continued her reading in John chapter 9. Renna realized as she read that physical ailments allowed God to show His glory, and she marveled as she read about the blind man who by simple faith and obedience regained his sight. <\/p>\n
She bowed her head. Oh, Lord, that You might heal Mr. Black-eyes. That You might show Your power to those who don\u2019t believe by healing him. Renna paused to remember her other patients then. And please rain down Your peace that passeth all understanding on the Websters tonight. <\/p>\n
Despite the fact her eyelids threatened to close, Renna finished her Bible reading. She turned down the lamp as a breeze ruffled the curtains. Somehow Renna knew that John Webster would not be in her sick ward tomorrow morning. Nor would his family be there. Somehow Renna knew that John was with the Savior already. <\/p>\n
But Mr. Blackeyes . . . why, he might not be a believer. It pained Renna to think of him spending an eternity apart from God. <\/p>\n
Please heal him, Lord, she prayed as she crawled into bed. She allowed her eyes to finally shut, and the darkly handsome stranger who lay fighting for his life was the last person on Renna\u2019s thoughts as she drifted off to sleep.<\/div>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I signed up for this blog tour because the hero in the book is blind and I wanted to see how the author portrayed this character. I’m afraid I haven’t gotten around to reading this book yet, but, if you’ve been reading this blog long enough, you’ll know that I do post a review for […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[38,14],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-302","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-first-wild-card-blog-tour","category-historicals"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/paovYP-4S","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/302","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=302"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/302\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=302"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=302"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=302"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
![\"\"id=\"BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480264388542368882\"](\"http:\/\/2.bp.blogspot.com\/_cESuxv-WNX8\/TA3PbPpKjHI\/AAAAAAAAEFE\/e9Dq6nSnpCA\/s200\/FIRSTWildCardTours2.jpg\")
<\/a><\/a>It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour<\/a><\/span><\/strong> book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old…or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n![\"\"id=\"BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558219991417265346\"](\"http:\/\/1.bp.blogspot.com\/_cESuxv-WNX8\/TSLDoivmnMI\/AAAAAAAAEqA\/WrZM1ER5rFM\/s200\/Andrea2009.jpeg\")
<\/a>In addition to writing, Andrea Kuhn Boeshaar speaks at writers\u2019 conferences and for women\u2019s groups. She has taught workshops at conferences such as: Write-To-Publish American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW), Oregon Christian Writers Conference, Mount Hermon Writers Conference, and many other writers\u2019 conferences. Andrea is also co-founder of the American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) organization. For many years she served on the advisory board and was also CEO of the ACFW.<\/p>\n![\"\"id=\"BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558220074277351106\"](\"http:\/\/1.bp.blogspot.com\/_cESuxv-WNX8\/TSLDtXa_LsI\/AAAAAAAAEqI\/cAR-UmP8AZ4\/s200\/UnexpectedLove.jpeg\")
<\/a><\/p>\n![](\"http:\/\/2.bp.blogspot.com\/_cESuxv-WNX8\/TA3PbPpKjHI\/AAAAAAAAEFE\/e9Dq6nSnpCA\/s1600\/FIRSTWildCardTours2.jpg\"){kind=link}