Tiny Pineapple Nurse Book Collection

Calling Nurse Linda

by Patti Stone, 1961

She Knew She Was Needed As a Woman As Well As a Nurse

(Part of a double novel, with “Dr. Kilbourne Comes Home” on the flip side.)

Dr. Shelby Tailor drew admiring glances from every woman — nurses and patients alike. And that included Nurse Linda. But she knew he wasn’t willing to give up the bachelor status that made him so attractive to rich female patients. So Linda hid her heartache.

But when Shelby’s career was suddenly threatened, Linda found herself pressed by a pleading proposal of marriage. Had love blinded her to his real character? Was he truly sincere — or was he just planning to use her good position to make up for his errors in judgement?

Campbells Are Coming, The

by Felicity Hayle, 1969

Fiona loved nursing…but alas, it was not a job that seemed likely to bring her the money she needed to save her beloved family from disaster.

Candy Stripers

by Lee Wyndham, 1958

Bonnie Schuyler let herself be talked into joining the Candy Stripers. As a junior aide at the Medical Center, she lightened the heavy work load each regular nurse had.

But she sometimes wondered why she was there — she didn’t plan to be a nurse; it was hard work; she didn’t especially like helping other people.

One day she met David, a technician who was interested in a hospital career. Somehow he made her feel rather special and very grown-up.

Cap for Kathy, A

by Josephine James, 1959

A Kathy Martin Story

For a long time, Kathy Martin has dreamed of becoming a nurse. When a mysterious fire breaks out at her high school commencement, the only clue points suspicion at her brother. Kathy sets out to determine the true identity of the arsonist, with the aid of a handsome young fireman. Later, a near-tragic accident forces her to interrupt her training. Just how Kathy eventually wins her cap and solves the mystery is told in an exciting narrative that moves to a heartwarming and surprising conclusion.

Case of the Fugitive Nurse, The

by Erle Stanley Gardner, 1954

MINKS, MONEY, AND MURDER!

Steffanie Malden’s husband hadn’t been dead twenty-four hours when she showed up in Perry Mason’s office. Her diamonds sparkled, but there were no tears in her beautiful eyes.

According to her story, Dr. Malden had taken at least $100,000 in cash from fees and hidden it away in the love-nest apartment he kept for his nurse. The income tax people had been investigating but so far had no proof. She wanted Mason to settle the estate — including the taxes — and do whatever he thought best for her interests.

Mason should never have accepted her as a client. But she was out of his office before he fully realized what she really wanted him to do was lift that $100,000, hold it until things settled down and then split it with her. That [words obscured] taxes.

Perry Mason was a sucker, then. But it was a lot worse when Steffanie Malden was — ARRESTED FOR MURDER!

Celebrity Nurse

by Ann Gilmer, 1974

Are celebrities really like you and me under their trappings of glamour, wealth, and chauffered [sic] limousines? Red-haired Cathy Lewis, a skilled and devoted young private-duty nurse, was about to find out. She had accepted a position with New York’s Acme Celebrity Service, an exclusive agency that supplied the rich and the famous with personnel in every category, including nursing. And Cathy’s first assignment was to be a live-in nurse in the palatial hotel suite of famous movie star Roland Keating! The dark and handsome Roland was recuperating from open-heart surgery, and it was to be Cathy’s job not only to administer his medications but also to keep his presence in New York, and his condition, a secret.

When her services to Roland Keathing [sic] were abruptly terminated after an encounter with a press photographer, Cathy was assigned to care for a suicidal theater star and then a crusty old ex-diplomat whose house guest was a Middle-Eastern prince with hemophilia. As Cathy soon learned, Prince Akbar was the target of terrorists, who kept the mansion under constant surveillance.

Prince Akbar’s Secret Service man, Bob Baird, was obviously falling in love with Cathy. But she couldn’t get the special blood-stirring magic of Roland Keating out of her head or her heart. Did she have a chance with him? Cathy was to discover the answer to this and much more as she struggled to fulfill her duties as a celebrity nurse.

Challenges for Nurse Genie

by Peggy Gaddis, 1960

Nurse Genie came to Raiford Cay to care for an old man with a mysterious illness. In trying to cure him, Genie found herself stung by two arrows from Cupid’s bow!

Trouble in Paradise

Nurse Genie Hayes found two challenges awaiting her on her arrival at the small Bahama out-island of Raiford Cay — the challenge of caring for old paralyzed Henry Raiford whose illness was a mystery to everyone, including his family…and the challenge flung at her by the beautiful Janice Burton to keep away from Captain Aleck Rogers and Scott Raiford, the two handsome eligible men on the island.

Genie’s medical training helped her meet the first challenge. But she wasn’t prepared for the breathless effect that Aleck’s and Scott’s kisses would have on her. How long could she continue to blame the tropical moonlight and the romantic scent of jasmine for the wild pounding in her heart?

Based solely on the illustration on the cover, here’s my guess as to how the book ends:

Even after she’d stopped struggling, Scott Raiford kept a firm grip on Genie Hayes’ soft, delicate throat. Her eyes, still wide with astonishment, stared blankly at the yacht that was to have carried them away…away from the cares and troubles of this small, remote island.

But there were only two things that would be carried away that afternoon: Nurse Hayes’ lifeless body, carried out to sea by the ebbing tide…and Nurse Hayes’ heart, so full of hope and promise, carried by angels to a place where she and Captain Aleck could finally be free of Raiford Cay. Where there would be no more…Challenges for Nurse Genie.

Any other guesses?

Change of Duty

by Marjorie Norrell, 1970

Staff Nurse Hilary Bell was rather disappointed when, after a bout of illness, she had to give up nursing for a year and take a ‘light duty’ job as first aid nurse in a big department store.

But Hilary was the kind of girl who always does her best in any job — and she was to get a splendid reward!

Cherry Ames at Spencer

by Julie Tatham, 1948

Cherry took a deep breath as the taxi started up the hill. Now she and Josie could see Spencer Hospital, a huge cluster of white buildings on top of the hill. Spencer was really a city in itself with its trim yards, broad avenues, landscaped lawns, and well-kept tennis courts. And to Cherry, in her probationer days, it had seemed like a terrifying labyrinth. But now the very sight of it rapidly drawing nearer filled her with the memories of the three thrilling years she had spent there with her friends who had trained and worked with her until graduation.

Cherry closed her dark eyes, remembering that first week when she, an awe-struck “probie,” had met the classmates who were to share so many exciting experiences with her. She could see them now in their humble gray probationers’ dresses which they, as student nurses, discarded for blue and white uniforms, white stockings, and broad black velvet bands on the cuff of their caps. They had herded together as probies, and they had kept in touch with one another ever since.

There had been red-haired, full-of-fun, Gwen Jones; earnest, rather rabbity-looking, but really very efficient, Josie Franklin; plump Bertha Larsen; hazel-eyed Vivian Warren; Mai Lee, the lovely Chinese-American girl; and Ann Evans, now Mrs. Jack Powell. Later, as visiting nurses, they had all, except Ann, shared an apartment in New York’s Greenwich Village, No. 9, the headquarters of the Spencer Club.

Cherry Ames, Army Nurse

by Helen Wells, 1944

“Cherry! Cher-ry! Come Quick! It’s here!”

A sparkling, dark-haired girl suddenly popped out on the upstairs landing and hung over the staircase. Her cheeks were as red as her sweater and her black eyes shone with excitement. She took one look at her mother, gingerly holding up an envelope; another at her young friend Midge, hopping up and down with a strange lack of dignity for a fifteen-year-old.

That’s — it!” Midge cried. “Hurry up!”

Cherry swooped down the stairs and seized the official-looking envelope.

“What does it say?” Midge begged. Mrs. Ames, too, was trying to glimpse the letter over Cherry’s shoulder.

“Here,” Cherry said, absorbed, and allowed Midge to hold the empty envelope.

Midge read aloud the address in the left-hand corner with awe in her voice, “‘War Department, Official Business.’ Jiminy!”

“What does it say?” Mrs. Ames echoed Midge. She was a small, youthful, brown-eyed woman.

Cherry looked up and grinned. “This is what I’ve been waiting for every day of this two weeks’ vacation! Harumph! You will please stand at attention while I read it to you.” Cherry herself stood erect and read earnestly:

“By direction of the President, Cherry Ames is with her consent ordered to active duty with the Army of the United States, and assigned to the hospital unit as indicated….” On graduating, Cherry had signed up with her whole nursing class to serve in the Army Nurse Corps. She already had indicated that she was available immediately and willing to serve overseas, and had sent her photo, application, school record and State Board Examination record. Cherry took a deep breath and hurried on, “…and will proceed on 21 September this year to station specified for temporary duty pending activation Spencer Gen. unit.”

There was another notice, too. “You are ordered to report to the Service Command at Wabash City…for Army physical examination!” … “Oh, gosh!” exclaimed Cherry.

“You have to weigh at least a hundred pounds and a lot of other things,” Midge warned her.

“She’ll pass,” Mrs. Ames said, smiling at Cherry, “even the Army’s rigid examination.” Cherry’s red cheeks and lips, her shining dark eyes, her eager, lively, pretty face, even her dancing black curls, fairly radiated vitality. She sparkled with youth and high spirits.

Cherry Ames, Boarding School Nurse

by Helen Wells, 1955

Cherry wished the train would go faster. She was still out of breath from running for it. She pressed her cheek against the window to admire the green fields and fertile farms through which the local train poked along. Cherry’s mother, who knew the headmistress of the Jamestown School for Girls from their own school days, had warned her that the school was deep in the country. Fortunately, it was not too far from Hilton, Illinois, which meant that she would be able to spend all school holiday vacations at home.

As the boarding school nurse, she would have full charge of the school infirmary. It would be fun to work with young people and a refreshing change from her last job — an unexpectedly thrilling assignment as nurse to a country doctor — something new, something different. If there was anything Cherry enjoyed, it was meeting new people. She was glad that she was a nurse because nursing, in its many branches, provided an Open sesame to new and exciting experiences — and because more importantly, a nurse can help to alleviate human suffering. She remembered what her twin brother Charlie had said jokingly when he put her on this train in Hilton:

“Don’t set this boarding school on its ear. Wherever you go, twin, you make things happen, but you bring doggoned good nursing too.”

It gave Cherry a good, warm feeling to know that her pilot brother, and her parents, too, were proud of her. They had made that clear during this past week, when they’d had such a satisfying family reunion, in their big, old-fashioned house. The week’s rest had left Cherry’s cheeks glowing rose-red and her black eyes sparkling. Even her jet-black curls shone with extra good health. She felt fully ready to tackle her new job.

Cherry Ames, Chief Nurse

by Helen Wells, 1944

Cherry Ames stood under a palm tree somewhere in the Pacific, the day after Christmas. The officer who had just helped her off the plane said, “Stay here in the shade. Now if you will please excuse me for a minute — ” and walked away. Cherry watched him go and squinted through the heat haze at the parked Army bomber which had brought her here this afternoon. “Of all places for me to be spending Christmas!” she thought. “I’ve crossed the international date line and lost a day, so I’ll count today Christmas. But of all the un-Christmas-y places! I’ve read about romantic tropic isles, but I never thought I’d get to one this way!”

She pulled down the trim jacket of her nurse’s olive drab uniform, and set the jaunty cap more firmly on her black curls. Cherry’s eyes were black too, large and sparkling, thoughtful but full of fun — brilliant red cheeks and lips and a warmhearted smile lived up to the lively promise of those eyes. She knew perfectly well, of course, that a nurse, and especially an Army nurse, can, in the course of duty, nonchalantly pop up in any corner of the world. “But I wish,” she thought, “that someone would kindly tell me what I’m here for!”

Cherry Ames, Clinic Nurse

by Julie Tatham, 1951

Cherry walked slowly through the residential section of her little Illinois home town. It was a hot June morning and she hoped that her stiffly starched white uniform wouldn’t wilt before she reached the clinic. In two more days it would be July and then Charlie would be home, too.

Cherry’s twin brother, who was as blond as she was dark, was a student at State Engineering College. He planned to spend the summer working as counselor at Bluewater Boys’ Camp, thirty miles from Hilton. In Cherry’s handbag was a letter from Charlie saying:

“I’m glad you invested your life savings in that jalopy you call Bouncing Bess, Sis. We’ll need it all during July and August. I’m counting on you to pick me up at camp every Saturday afternoon, and to drive me back every Sunday evening. Can you believe it? Week ends at home together! I’ll probably have college on Friday, the first, but may get away sooner. Depends on final exams. My love to the folks, always including, of course, Dr. Joe and his zany daughter, Midge.”

Bouncing Bess was a battered little red convertible which Cherry had bought recently just so she and Charlie could have fun that summer. their father, who was in the real-estate business, used the family car all day long on summer week ends, driving prospective clients around the countryside.

Cherry pushed her black curls away from her damp forehead and almost wished that she had decided to drive to work instead of walking. But the new Group Medical Practice Clinic was only a few blocks from the Ameses’ little gray house. And Cherry, who had been away from home almost constantly ever since she had left it to enter Spencer Hospital’s Nursing School, was still thrilled by all the familiar sights and sounds and smells.

Cherry Ames, Cruise Nurse

by Helen Wells, 1948

Cherry opened one dark-brown eye and closed it again quickly. Shivering, she pulled the covers up until her black curls were hidden beneath the thick, crazy-quilt comforter.

Cherry Ames, Department Store Nurse

by Helen Wells, 1956

“This,” said Cherry, “is pretty wonderful!” She beamed at the others around the festive table with its autumn fruits and flowers. Her family beamed back at her. “For once all four Ameses are together, and isn’t it nice?”

“I feel a little selfish, not asking some of the relatives for Thanksgiving dinner,” Mrs. Ames remarked.

“Just us is fine,” said Charlie. “Besides, that leaves us more turkey.”

Mr. Ames, who could carve only when standing up, muttered that it was about times Charlie took over this chore. But when Charlie obligingly stood up to help, their father said, “Never mind, thanks. No chores for either of you kids when you’re only home for the holiday.”

“I won’t make any speeches about what it’s worth to me to be here today,” Cherry said. “Even for a few days’ leave.”

She had flown to Hilton, Illinois, from New York and this evening she would have to fly back again. If her old friend Ann Evans hadn’t had family matters to tend to, she might be able to stay at home longer. On the other hand, if Ann Evans Powell hadn’t needed someone in a hurry to substitute for her, Cherry would never have secured the nursing job in a New York department store, two weeks ago. And it was a fascinating job.

Cherry Ames, Dude Ranch Nurse

by Julie Tatham, 1953

“Welcome to the sunshine city!” Cherry stared forlornly at the big placard. Tucson certainly deserved its nickname, but there was nobody at the Municipal Airport to welcome here. The waiting room, a glass-fronted portion of three huge hangars, made her feel as though she were surrounded by miles and miles of planes. After a while she wandered over to a bench and sat down with her suitcase and coat at her feet.

What could have happened to Kirk?

When Cherry had left her home in Hilton, Illinois, it had been snowing hard. And when she boarded the plane in Chicago that morning, she had been grateful for the warmth of her interlined coat. But now, here in Arizona, although it was five o’clock on a Sunday afternoon in late February, she was almost too warm in her smart red flannel suit and wished she had worn her white Nylon blouse instead of a sweater.

But she had been told that as soon as the sun dropped down behind the mountains the air would grow steadily cooler and so she had packed in her bag some twin sweater sets and a warm sports jacket. In the bat, too, were seven white uniforms and caps, a bathing suit, T-shirts, a bright checkered cowboy shirt which her twin brother, Charlie, had given her, blue jeans, donated by her father who said that in Arizona they were called “Levis”; new, shiny riding boots, a gift from her mother, and from Cherry’s harum-scarum young neighbor, Midge Fortune, an atomizer containing Cherry’s favorite brand of perfume.

Cherry Ames, Flight Nurse

by Helen Wells, 1945

Lieutenant Cherry Ames, of the Army Nurse Corps, training at Randolph Field, Texas, to become a flight nurse, decided to take time out, this hot September morning, for a coke.

In the PX — the post exchange — Cherry ran into her old friend Ann Evans. Ann, looking pale, was buying cigarettes.

“Why, Annie, you don’t smoke!” Cherry protested.

“No, but my pilot does,” Ann replied grimly. “We made a pact. Anyone who gets airsick on training flights has to buy the crew chief a carton of cigarettes. Not only am I flipsy-flopsy in the stomach — I’m going broke!”

Cherry grinned. “You’ll outgrow it as I did. Come on over here to the soda fountain and have a cup of tea.”

Cherry Ames, Island Nurse

by Helen Wells, 1960

Cherry stopped in front of the Hilton Hospital and glanced at her wrist watch. She was not due to be on duty for twenty minutes. She stood for a moment, enjoying the sunshine and the fresh, sweet air of spring. What a glorious morning!

In the sky overhead a small plane was circling about. Shading her eyes with her hand, Cherry watched it it descend slowing in widening spirals and bank to come in for a landing at the new private airport outside Hilton.

“I wouldn’t mind being up in a place myself this morning,” Cherry thought dreamily.

“Nurse Ames, you have a very bad case of spring fever,” she heard a voice boom.

Startled, she turned her head and saw Dr. Watson, a wide grin on his face, beside her. “Check that fever at the door,” he told her, laughing. “It’s highly contagious.”

“Good morning, Doctor. You sneaked up or I would have heard you, “she accused him as he started up the walk. Her eyes followed his clumsy, bearlike figure to the entrance. She had a warm spot in her heart for Dr. Ray Watson who was in charge of Men’s Orthopedic Ward. He had been patient, understanding, and always cheerful when she was a nurse on his ward.

Cherry was now one of the Emergency nurses and was often the nurse on one of his cases. Dr. Watson handled accident cases involving orthopedics, such as fractures and other conditions which caused interference with the use of bones and joints.

Cherry forgot the sunny sky and the plane and walked through the door into the antiseptic small of the hospital. The quick change from the air outside made her nose prickle as always, but the odor quickly became familiar and she felt completely at home.

“Good morning, Miss Ames.”

“Good morning, Mrs. Peters,” Cherry returned the greeting from the head nurse on Orthopedic Ward.

“Whenever you’ve had enough of Emergency,” Mrs. Peters said with a smile, “remember, I can always use an extra nurse.”

“I’ll say we can,” declared Nurse Ruth Dale, as she came in the door and fell in step with Cherry. “We’re always short of nurses, you know that.”

“Hospitals are always short of nurses,” agreed Cherry. They went on down the corridor toward the section where the nurses had their lockers. “It’s a complaint as common as the common cold, or haven’t you heard?” Cherry asked airily.

Ruth made a face at her, taking the teasing in good nature. She and Cherry had been on duty in the same ward and had been good friends for a long time. Ruth was frank to say that Cherry was shining proof that beauty and brains went together. Cherry’s dark-brown, almost black eyes, black curly hair, and red cheeks, which had won her the name of Cherry, always called forth admiring remarks. Her patients appreciated her cheerful presence.

Cherry Ames, Mountaineer Nurse

by Julie Tatham, 1951

Now that the April sun had slid down behind the rocky ridges, it was cold in the valley. Cherry hurried along, hoping Bertha would have set a match to the blazing logs in the fireplace of their small room behind the makeshift clinic.

Cherry was as tired as she had ever been in her whole nursing career, but she knew that plump Bertha Larsen, who had been hobbling around on crutches all day, would be even more exhausted. Cherry glanced up at the sunset, veiled by the mist that hung above the thickly wooded mountain. Lonely little cabins perched precariously on the lower slopes of it; gray unpainted barns dotted the hillsides. Between the pastures and the farm lands narrow dirt lanes spiraled, following the path of mountain streams.

In the growing twilight, Cherry felt hemmed in by the dark-green palisades. There was something almost sinister about the shadows that lay across the valley floor. Desolate Mountain had certainly been well named. Cherry felt sure that there could not be another village in the whole state of Kentucky as isolated as Heartbreak Hollow.

But in spite of the fact that the people were poor and, for the most part, ignorant, it was a happy place. Daniel Boone, it was said, had given the village its name, because, after an attack by the Indians, only two of the original frontier families had survived. Later, other pioneers had come to build their log cabins and to struggle for existence side by side with the Smiths and the Clarkes. They brought with them the customs, idioms, and traditions of their English, Scottish, and Irish ancestors, and even now the older members of the community were reluctant to relinquish them.

The children, in spite of their sporadic schooling, were slowly but surely freeing themselves of the idioms and superstitions. In general, the fathers although they kept saying they didn’t want to be “beholden” to the doctor and nurse, were much more modern-minded than the mothers. But the grandparents were not of the twentieth century and didn’t want to be.

Cherry Ames, Night Supervisor

by Julie Tatham, 1950

The big silver-gray bus stopped at the junction just long enough for Cherry to jump off and reach up for the bags which the driver handed down to her. Then with a derisive blast of its horn it sped away as though it wished to shake off the dust of this desolate countryside.

“Weatherly,” Cherry though, “must be the tiniest village in the while U.S. A. And yet it’s only four hours from New York City, and once was a prosperous mining town.”

The only buildings still standing was the abandoned railroad station which consisted of a baggage platform precariously attached to an unpainted shack that looked as though it were going to collapse any minute from sheer boredom. A dirt road stretched away from the junction to lose itself in far-off scrubby hills. Cherry knew that on one of those hills was a hospital. Somebody on the staff should be driving down the road now to meet the new night supervisor.

Night supervisor! Cherry could hardly believe that this evening she would actually be on duty in that coveted role. The opportunity had been offered to her by Dr. Van Laughton, Chief of the Pediatric Service of Spencer Hospital where Cherry had trained. Last fall she had gone back for duty in the new Children’s Wing. At Dr. Laughton’s suggestion she had continued her postgraduate training, working as assistant to the Superintendent of Nurses in order to fit herself for a supervisory position at Weatherly Hospital.

“It’s one of the oldest institutions in the country,” Dr. Laughton had told Cherry. “The main section, which is in an old frame building, was built way back when surgery was in its infancy and asepsis was unheard of. But don’t let that worry you. The new wings are as modern as anything here at Spencer, and what is more important, they’ve got Bates Darby on staff. How they wangled it, I’ll never know. But he’s there, and since most babies are born at night or in the early morning, you’ll be working closely with one of the leading obstetricians in North America. At the end of this assignment, which will probably amount to a post-graduate course in midwifery, you can classify yourself as an obstetrical nurse.”

It was Dr. Joe Fortune who had give Cherry a more complete picture of what her new job would be like. Dr. Joe, who lived near Cherry’s home in Hilton, Illinois, had brought her and her twin brother, Charlie, into the world. He had inspired her to take up nursing and she had never regretted her decision. Through her work she had made many warm friends who had shared exciting adventures with her and had helped her solve some really baffling mysteries.

Cherry Ames, Private Duty Nurse

by Helen Wells, 1946

Cherry gave the pillow a poke and sleepily sat up. She shook her short, black curls off her red cheeks, and wriggled to the edge of the bed to see out the window. She was in the one place where a lively young nurse never expected to be — home! She was right here in her own room, in her own house, in her own small town of Hilton, Illinois. Her gay read-and-white room with its sun-filled windows was a highly satisfactory place to be, this sweet-smelling June morning, especially after traipsing with the Army Nurse Corps from the Pacific across the Atlantic, with flights in between, and then being a veterans’ nurse besides.

Cherry Ames, Rest Home Nurse

by Julie Tatham, 1954

“How do I like my new job?” Cherry grinned and spooned ice from her water tumbler into her coffee cup. “I love it Dad, in spite of the heat.”

Cherry’s young pretty mother laughed. “If I’d known you wanted iced coffee for breakfast, darling, I would have fixed you a pitcher of it. But it’s a good idea. Never have I known it to be so hot during the last week of June.”

Three weeks ago Cherry had started to work as nursing supervisor of the Wayside Rest Home which was situated on the Bluewater Highway about twenty miles from her home town, Hilton, Illinois. The morning after Cherry began her new job, her parents had left on a motor trip and had just returned the night before.

“Tell us more about the patients,” Mrs. Ames said. “We got home so late last evening there wasn’t time to chat. But it’s only seven o’clock, Cherry. You don’t have to leave for a half-hour.”

“Well,” Cherry began, “you both know Mrs. Nellie Harmon. You were there last month when she underwent a tracheotomy at the Hilton Hospital. She doesn’t need any nursing car, except that her tracheal tube has to be taken out once a day. We use pipe cleaners to make sure it isn’t clogged, sterilize it, and replace it every morning. She’s a wonderful patient and has decided to make the Wayside her permanent home.”

Edith Ames nodded. “I can understand that. She has no children and has been a widow for years. What about that boy who broke his leg while vacationing at the Bluewater summer camp? I read about the accident in the copy of the County News you sent us, Cherry. As I recall, his parents are famous photographers.”

“That’s right,” Cherry said. “They’re in South America on an important assignment and made arrangements by long-distance phone for Ricky to be brought to the Wayside as soon as he was discharged from the hospital. His leg is in a walking cast, which he calls his cement sock.”

William Ames guffawed. “Pipe cleaners and a cement sock! It sounds like the kind of teen-age jargon Midge Fortune uses. Makes no sense to a businessman like me.”

“Ricky Cartright,” Cherry said, clutching her dark curls in mock dismay, “and Midge Fortune are two of a kind. Ricky’s room is on the ground floor, and he shares an adjoining bath with Bob Porterfield whom he hero-worships. Bob is awfully good to Ricky, otherwise we’d all go out of our minds.

Cherry Ames, Rural Nurse

by Helen Wells, 1961

“Well, now you’re on your own, Cherry Ames,” said the nurse supervisor. “Now you’ll be the one and only nurse responsible for good public health nursing service in this entire county. Just you, Cherry.”

“I’m scared and delighted all at once,” Cherry said. “All those families! We visited only a sampling of them. All those towns and villages!”

Cherry and Miss Hudson had just returned from their last visit together to the twenty-five square miles of Cherry’s county in southeastern Iowa. It was a lovely countryside of thriving farms, where some ten thousand persons lived and worked, and where their children attended rural schools.

“Scared or not,” Cherry said, “I feel I’m off to a good start, Miss Hudson. I learned a lot driving around with you, nursing under your supervision during this training period.”

“I think you’ll do fine,” her supervisor encouraged her. “I’ll visit you regularly, and you’ll come to monthly meetings with my fourteen other county nurses. Between times, if you need any advice or extra help, you can always phone or write me at the regional office upstate. Of course all the specialized facilities of the State Health Department are open to your patients on your request.” Miss Hudson smiled at her reassuringly. “And Dr. Miller, as health officer and your medical adviser, will confer with you frequently here in your office.”

Cherry had been assigned this rather bare office on the second floor of the county courthouse in the small, quiet town of Sauk. Sunlight sifting through the trees outside shone on file cabinets and tables stacked with county health records and pamphlets about community health.

“I’m glad,” Cherry admitted, “that Dr. Hal Miller is young and as new on his county job as I am on mine. Makes it easier to work comfortably together.”

Cherry Ames, Senior Nurse

by Helen Wells, 1944

The rising bell clanged, Cherry carefully wrapped the covers around her ears, turned over and went back to sleep.

When she awoke again, her eyes fell on the clock and she leaped wildly out of bed. She had overslept a whole half-hour! It was really late! Half-asleep, she dashed automatically for the maple chest of drawers and collided with a chair instead. Then Cherry remembered. Of course — this wasn’t her old room — this was her new room in Crowley, the residence for seniors and graduate nurses! Starting this morning she was a senior — and she was late! Cherry scrambled into her clothes as the clock ticked loudly and warningly. She ran to the closet and pulled out a crisp blue and white striped uniform, with black chevrons on the shoulder. Late or not, Cherry stopped for breath and a moment’s gloating over those senior chevrons.

Then she dashed over to the mirror and slammed her nurse’s cap on her head. A breathless girl of twenty looked back at her — a slim, lovely girl with black eyes and black curls, and cheeks and lips so red they had earned her her name. She struggled to get her apron tied, but the bow balked. Outside in the corridor, instead of the usual bedlam of nurses, there was a pronounced silence — they all had left for breakfast long ago! “It’s still me,” Cherry marveled at her reflection. “Cherry Ames, from Hilton, Illinois, a senior and not changed a bit! Still tardy!”

Cherry Ames, Student Nurse

by Helen Wells, 1944

Cherry sat cross-legged on her suitcase and tugged. There! The two stubborn locks finally clicked shut. This would make her new uniforms look like accordions and she mourned for the new blue dance dress. But at least they were in. Cherry puffed and with a toss of her head sent the dark brown curls off her glowing cheeks. Then she sat bolt upright on the suitcase and gasped.

“How do I look?” said Midge from the doorway. Billowing over her small figure was Cherry’s gray probationer’s uniform and crackling white apron, miles too big for her. From around the collar, her freckled face peered out, grinning impishly.

“Midge Fortune!” Cherry exploded. “You thirteen-year-old hazard! Unhand that uniform right away! Do you want to make me miss my train?” She darted after Midge and wormed her out of the dress. “And now I’ll have to battle with that suitcase again!” she groaned. She gave the squirming Midge a little shake. “Honestly, if you weren’t Dr. Joe’s daughter, I’d cut you up for stew and feed you to my worst enemy!”

“You haven’t got a worst enemy,” Midge pointed out calmly. She folded the garments with care and bravely attacked the suitcase. “And besides,” Midge went on, with a fine disregard for any connection, “your new red suit is the best-looking thing in Hilton.” She looked at Cherry admiringly.

And Cherry was well worth admiring. She was slender and healthy and well-built; she moved with a proud erect posture that made her seem beautifully tall and slim. Her eyes and her short curly hair were very dark, almost black — the clear-cut black that glistens. Groomed to crisp perfection, Cherry was as vivid as a poster in her red wool sports suit. And her face fairly sparkled with warmth and humor.

Cherry Ames, Veteran’s Nurse

by Helen Wells, 1946

Almost — almost there! A very few minutes more, with the train hurtling and whistling past the wintry prairie farms — in minutes she would be there!

Cherry stood up unsteadily in the train aisle and pulled her luggage down from the overhead rack. She straightened her khaki hat on her black curls, straightened her Army Nurse’s jacket, drew on her leather gloves. Then she sat on the very edge of her plush chair. The train was slowing down now. Johnson’s big barn and the outskirts of Hilton skidded past. Cherry’s cheeks were very red, her dark eyes brilliant.

“New York — London — Panama — the Pacific — I’ve seen them all — I’ve flown over Europe — ” Cherry thought, ” — but — well, Hilton, Illinois, I’m coming home!” For this was the destination and the day she had been dreaming of.

Cherry Ames, Visiting Nurse

by Helen Wells, 1947

It was a hot afternoon at the end of August. The whole Midwest town of Hilton looked wilted. Even this tree-shaded block, and the Ameses’ big, gray frame house and lawn, wore a dusty, tail-end-of summer look. Cherry, sitting forlorn on the porch steps, debated whether the long summer ever would be over.

“Of course, summer is my favorite season,” she argued to herself. “But I’ve had enough of doing nothing. What I want is a new fall hat and new, exciting things to do!” She wrinkled her nose as if trying to detect any first autumn briskness in the air.

The hot breeze carried to her only the scent of over-ripe greenery. Cherry sighed and pushed her black curls off her forehead, off the back of her too-warm neck. She fanned her red cheeks, muttering, “Where, on, where is that mailman?”

Chicago Nurse

by Arlene Hale, 1965

Was this love in disguise — or a threat to her future?

When Nurse Delora Lambert boarded the train for Chicago, she left behind everything she knew and loved. Behind her was the unwanted sympathy of friends who told her it would only be a matter of time before she forgot she’d been jilted two weeks before her marriage.

Would her new job give her the incentive to start anew? And could the unexpected attention of two handsome new acquaintances threaten her firm resolve never to fall in love again?

Cinderella Nurse

by Jane Converse, 1967

She was on call to an ungrateful family and off-limits to love…until her Prince Charming—a handsome doctor—set her free.

Her sister was too beautiful and too spoiled for her own good.

Her mother dabbled in mysticism on Rita’s salary.

Rita Ambler was young, beautiful…and a Cinderella Nurse

“Give it up,” Glenn Seabrook had said. “They’re using you, Rita. They’ll never change.” But she couldn’t abandon her family. And she lost Glenn. It all seemed so long ago. Before she became the wife to an alcoholic, mother to a son—and widow. At twenty-four, life held no more surprises for Rita Ambler.

Then came the accident that changed everything. That thrust Rita Ambler into the arms of Dr. Lester Wyman and out of the reach of his new protégé, Dr. Glenn Seabrook…the only man she had ever loved.

Am I “off-limits to love?” How would I go about finding out? Is there a list posted somewhere?

City Nurse, Country Love

by Darla Neidrick, 1985

Karen Shannon, R.N., was dismayed to hear her sister Rosemary had been hurt in an accident. When the young nurse took a leave of absence from her much-loved city hospital and returned to her small hometown, she was prepared to do everything she could to help Rosemary. But Karen was not prepared to lock horns with Rosemary’s doctor, attractive, arrogant Adam James.

Adam had often teased and embarrassed Karen when she was younger, and now he was even more difficult. For he was warm and charming one moment, making her fall in love with him. But just as she was ready to give up her newfound city life for him, he taunted her with hatred.

Co-Ed in White

by Suzanne Roberts, 1964

When Nurse Dani Sutton had an opportunity to go to State University for postgraduate studies in medicine, she jumped at the chance. At State a whole new world opened to her, a world of bright, happy young people, far removed from the pain and poverty she had seen at run-down Community Hospital And handsome young Professor Slade Davis wanted her there, too — permanently.

Then Dani got a letter with just one sentence in it, and her safe world turned upside down. The letter was from Dr. Barney Conrad, and it said, “When are you going to start being a nurse again?” And Dani had to decide which life held her loyalty and which man held her heart.

Combat Nurses of World War II

by Wyatt Blassingame, 1967

Here is the story of the courageous young women who served at Pearl Harbor, Corregidor, Anzio, Battle of the Bulge, Iwo Jima, and other fighting fronts of the Second World War.

Community Nurse

by Lucy Agnes Hancock, 1955

Dana Brooks decided to sit in the railroad station for a while and watch the people. Her bus out of Syracuse left at a little after two o’clock and it was only a few minutes past one. Then, too, it seemed impossible to get a taxi right now. Perhaps a bit later it would be easier. Anyway, it was fun watching people — especially in railroad stations. She liked to imagine their possible destination — their business and even their families. In Sedgewick she knew everyone and everyone knew her. There were no mysteries and no strangers. If a stranger did happen to appear he didn’t remain one long.

Now right over there was an interesting pair — evidently mother and daughter. The older woman was nervous and unsure while the girl — Dana was certain she was no older than she was herself — looked as if she held the world by the tail. From time to time she urged her mother to relax; but it was evident her advice fell on deaf ears. And a group of college students — boys and girls having a wonderful time just being together. Their laughter brought a smile to more than one face. She wondered about the stout young woman in a much too tight fur jacket trying unsuccessfully to make a small boy quiet down. But the lively youngster ran about inspecting everything and everyone.

A train was called and porters, laden with luggage, hurried through the gates while crowds surged after. The big station began to appear quite empty and Dana considered the possibility of obtaining a cab. Suddenly a tall young man carrying an important-looking brief case dashed through a street door followed by a porter with his bags. He swerved to avoid the stout young woman and immediately sent the small boy sprawling. A howl rent the air and Dana gasped and glared at the hurrying traveler who stopped long enough to yank the lad to his feet while at the same time his hand went into his pocket and came out full of jingling coins which he pressed into the crying youngster’s hands. The noise stopped as if by magic and the young man continued on his way. His amused and very blue eyes met Dana’s indignant brown ones and as he passed he said cynically:

“Don’t worry, sister. He’s all right. Money has miraculous power — to heal the hurts of this world.” He waved in the general direction of the casualty and raced after his vanishing porter.

Confidential Nurse

by Diane Frazer, 1962

She was sworn to professional secrecy — then found the patient she’d been called to nurse was the man she had thought was in love with her!

Linn looked over at the man in the bed. He was lying with his face turned to the wall. He was asleep, she thought, or in pain, because he did not turn his head when they came in.

Dr. Jacoby bent over the bed. “Awake or asleep?” he asked, bending over the patient. “Ah not asleep. I brought your nurse. A pretty girl with a pretty name, Linn. Linn Morgan.”

Linn stood beside Dr. Jacoby, leaned forward and held out her hand. On her face was the smile of welcome, of cheer, the smile that was automatic.

The man lying there turned his head.

Linn stood with her hand still out-stretched, the smile frozen on her lips. She stood paralyzed for the eternity of a moment, aware of Dr. Jacoby’s startled look.

The man in the bed was Ronald Adair!

Country Club Nurse

by Dorothy Cole, 1967

She was known as Nurse Sanders at the Club where only the super rich and most famous people were allowed to become members. How could she get Captain Joseph Mackenzie to realize that she could never be one of them?

They were the glamorous super-rich—could she help heal their broken lives?

Caring for an overindulged young socialite at the wealthy Chanticleer Club, Nurse Erda Sanders soon finds a new romance among “the beautiful people” — as well as plots and counterplots threatening not only her principles but lives!

A few things…

• My niece, Elisabeth, is getting married tomorrow. If you want to find me at the reception tomorrow night, I’ll be the dashing, devil-may-care playboy standing in the parking lot with a white, double-breasted dinner jacket, a cravat, and slack arms.

• A according to a 2005 report from the Internal Revenue Service, you need to earn at least $100.3 million in Adjusted Gross Income to be counted among the “super-rich.”

• Noted without comment: Chanticleer.

• And, finally, I leave you with an early draft of a song by Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim.

Erda

The most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.
Erda, Erda, Erda, Erda…

All the beautiful sounds of the world in a single word:
Erda, Erda, Erda, Erda…
Erda, Erda…

Erda!
I’ve just met a girl named Erda,
And suddenly the name
Will never be the same
To me.

Erda!
I’ve just kissed a girl named Erda,
And suddenly I’ve found
How wonderful a sound
Can be!

Erda!
Say it loud and there’s music playing —
Say it soft and it’s almost like praying —
Erda…
I’ll never stop saying
Erda!

Erda —
Say it loud and there’s music playing —
Say it soft and it’s almost like praying —
Erda —
I’ll never stop saying Erda!
The most beautiful sound I ever herd —
Errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrda.

County Nurse

by Peggy Dern, 1956

When a small-town nurse and a big-city doctor work side by side there is sure to be conflict…and surprises.

County nurse Beth Mason was young, beautiful, dedicated to her work and deeply in love. Doctor Cary Latham was bored by his patients and resentful that he must spend three years in a backwoods community. Yet they had to work together and the surprising climax to the conflict between them leads to a love story of truly dramatic impact.

Courtroom Nurse

by Fern Shepard, 1968

How much did she owe to the living, how much to the dead? There was only one possible answer for Vicky, not only as a nurse but as the daughter of Dr. Sam Blair…

Emergency Call…

Vicky Blair, R.N., knew her mother would never ask her to give up her job in San Francisco and come home if she didn’t need her desperately. But it was difficult to convince young Dr. Fred Harlan, who wanted her all to himself. It was especially difficult since the trouble at home concerned Vicky’s kid sister, Jean, and the boy she loved, Johnny Rushton. A descendant of one of Rushton City’s oldest and richest families, Johnny had also inherited the family’s streak of mental instability — or so his sister, Cora, wanted everyone to believe. She had a lot of people convinced — including, to Vicky’s disappointment, Fred Harlan. Most important, she had finally convinced Johnny, who had told Jean he could not — would not — see her again. Vicky knew Johnny was not a victim of hereditary madness. She could prove it — in court, if come to that, because the revelation that would “clear” Johnny would dishonor the memory of the finest man she had ever known: her father…

Cry Nurse

by Teresa Holloway, 1961

Heat waves shimmered upward and outward from the blindingly white walls of County Medical Center. Inside their quivering cocoon, the sprawling hospital seemed to shiver unnaturally in the blistering noon sun.

Mary Cason parked her small foreign-make car in the space marked “STAFF,” pausing only long enough to run up the windows. Prudently, she left a small opening at the top to prevent the glass from checking in the fierce heat.

“Not that it wouldn’t be worth wetting the upholstery, just to get a good rain, “she told herself recklessly. “And it isn’t even summer, actually.”

Everything about this Central-Florida city rubbed Mary the wrong way. She didn’t like having to live away from the shore. for one thing. The smell of salt water was far more invigorating than this orange-blossom-laden atmosphere the people here were so lyrical over. Cloying, she considered it.