“I’m always so busy cleaning the hotel rooms…” Walt closed his eyes, inhaled, then held his breath a moment. “I’ve never had a nicer welcome home.”
“And shame on the era.”
Walt opened his eyes and met Mark’s disgust-filled gaze.
Mark’s simple response swept a storm of memories to the front of Walt’s mind. He shook his head. No time for that today.
“I believe I smell coffee and cinnamon rolls?” Walt scooted the walker closer to a red vinyl–covered dinette chair and eased down onto the padded seat.
“Sorry, it’s coffee cake.” Sarah crossed the short width of the kitchen and slid a pan from the oven.
“Don’t be sorry; just dish me up some.” Walt rubbed his palms together while his tongue brushed against the bristly hairs of his white mustache as he exaggerated licking his lips. “I’ve been eating hospital food too long.”
Mark and Sarah burst into laughter, apparently amused at his antics. He was so caught up in his happy homecoming, his chest heaved in merriment and jarred his incision, but not enough to sober him. The short stay in the VA hospital opened his eyes to his abundant blessings. Many of the veterans’ health problems couldn’t be fixed with surgery.
Sarah brought the cake pan to the table. After stashing Walt’s overnight bag in the bedroom, Mark grabbed mugs from the white metal cupboards while Sarah carried the carafe of fresh-brewed coffee.
Walt’s stomach growled in anticipation of the sweet brown sugar and spicy cinnamon treat as Mark plated generous portions of their midday snack. Sarah poured the steaming dark liquid into mismatched mugs advertising various area businesses, and returned the pot to the heating element.
After a week of bland food, Walt’s mouth watered for a bite of flavor-filled food. He lifted his fork.
“Do you mind if I say a prayer?” Sarah slid onto the chair next to Walt and reached for his left hand.
He laid the fork down and cupped her hand. Her thumb softly caressed the purple bruise left by his IV on the thin skin of his hand.
When Mark sat and grasped her free hand, Sarah bowed her head. Walt closed his eyes and followed her lead.
“Dear Lord, thank You for Uncle Walt’s successful surgery. Restore his body with strength and stamina as he heals and works hard at his physical therapy. Keep his spirits up if the days get difficult, assuring him that You never leave Your sheep alone. Bless this food and family time. Amen.”
“Amen.” The word came out in a gravelly whisper. Moved by Sarah’s heartfelt prayer, moisture built in the corner of Walt’s eyes. Keeping his head bowed, he squinted hard, hoping to remove the water before it became a full-fledged tear.
Just when he thought he’d regained control of his emotions, Sarah squeezed his hand. A tear broke through the seal of his lid and lingered in the outer corner of his eye, threatening to slip down his cheek at any moment. He gave up the battle and opened his eyes.
“Thank you for that prayer and”—he waved his hand, encompassing the room—“all of this.”
“My pleasure. Now dig in.” Sarah lifted her mug. “To health and happiness.”
Mark and Walt both lifted their mugs to Sarah’s coffee toast.
Walt savored his first bit of the moist cake, letting the sweet, spicy flavors burst in his mouth. “This is the best coffee cake I’ve ever eaten.”
Sarah beamed. “Thank you.”
“She’s a good baker.” Mark patted his husky middle. “Can’t you tell?”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “Uncle Walt, would you like me to catch you up on business, or are you too tired?”
“Now is as good a time as any.” Walt scraped his fork across the plate, raking every crumb of the sweet treat onto his utensil.
“I had to turn on the no-vacancy sign one night because the rooms were full.”
Walt raised his eyebrows and smiled. “Kind of late in the season for that.” Being a small roadside hotel, the only time his No-VACANCY sign got a workout was the first two weeks in August as bikers wore out the interstate to get to the Sturgis motorcycle rally. “Either you’re good for business or something happened in one of the nearby towns.”
Sarah gave a small nod of her head. “A graduating class had its twenty-year class reunion during homecoming week.”
Walt didn’t bother to ask which class or city. He’d wait to read it in the local paper that was presumably stuffed in the stack of mail on the counter.
“I see some of my summer residents flew the coop while I was away. But it looks like I picked up a new fifth wheel. Did they have any problems setting up?”
“No.” Sarah’s tone held amused surprise.
“Can’t figure out why they’d want to park so close to the drive though. They had better spots to choose from. Besides, that electrical box gives me trouble sometimes.” Walt sipped his coffee. Holding the mug steady with both hands, he returned it to the table. “Forgot to tell you that. Going to have to get that fixed one of these days. Hate to have someone all set up and settled in and then have to move even one spot over. Plus that one’s a tricky spot to back into. He did a good job though, must be an old hand at it.”
Sarah giggled. “It’s not a he.”
Walt scrunched his face. “Beg pardon?”
“I said it’s not a he. It’s a she.” Sarah’s giggles turned into laughter.
He hadn’t heard wrong.
“Don’t look so surprised, Uncle Walt. Women have been driving for years.” Mark chuckled.
“A gal? All alone?” Usually his customers were couples or single men.
“Yes, she’s by herself.” Sarah grinned.
Walt shifted his weight on the chair and reached for his walker. It was time to change position to relieve the dull ache in his hip. “Guess it’s a good thing she chose that spot. Safer.”
Adjusting the walker, Walt slid from his chair, wincing just a little at the pressure adjustment to his hip. Heel to toe, heel to toe. He mentally repeated his therapist’s instructions as he pushed the walker to the kitchen window.
“I’ll have to keep a sharp eye on her.” Walt sighed. “Although I don’t know what help I’d be.”
The scuffing of a chair against the linoleum caused Walt to turn his head. Sarah joined him by the window.
“I don’t think you have to worry about it. She seems like one capable lady who’s never backed down from a challenge. There she is now.”
On the blacktop, a bright yellow extended-cab pickup with dual wheels waited for a tractor pulling a wagon filled with soybeans to pass by before turning into the RV park’s driveway.
Mark joined them at the window just as the pickup zipped into the driveway, bouncing through the potholes like a monster truck over a line of salvaged cars.
“Whoa, where’s the fire?” Walt let out a low whistle. “I’m going to have a talk with that young’un.”
Like a race car driver making a pit stop, the driver whipped into the parking spot beside the fifth wheel. A tall, broad woman slid from behind the driver’s seat then opened the back door. She pushed at the snow-white curls the wind whipped into her face as she grabbed her purchases and bounded to the camper’s door.
“Well…she’s old enough to know better.” Walt huffed. What was it with women of that generation, driving like maniacs? He turned to Sarah. “How long’s she staying?”
Sarah’s lips curved into a mischievous grin. “Guess that’s up to you, Walt.” She patted his back. “She’s the nurse you hired.”
Using a little too much gusto, Lil Hayes dumped the grocery bags onto the miniature countertop. The plastic bags slid across the laminate counter, releasing cans onto the floor. Chasing cans down the short hall that led to her bedroom wasn’t her top priority; instead she stashed the milk and eggs in the refrigerator. Slinging her laptop bag over her shoulder, she stepped out the door, almost missing the aluminum step attached to her fifth wheel.
Stopping long enough to push the door closed—she didn’t need the gale-force win
ds springing open her camper’s door—she listened for the click of the latch before turning to walk across the gravel driveway.
The whine of semi tires speeding down the interstate, along with the roar of the combine in the neighboring field, gave a new meaning to the phrase “quiet country life.”
In her haste Lil kicked up gravel in the driveway. A pebble slipped into the vent hole of her Crocs like a hole in one. She stopped her speed walk to the house to tap the stone back out. As she did so, her bag slid off her shoulder and down her arm, dragging her cardigan sleeve with it.
Rock-free, she picked up her pace to cover the short distance between her campsite and Walt’s home.
He’d arrived earlier than she’d expected, or maybe not. She’d dragged her feet leaving for this assignment. Had she known this patient was a Vietnam veteran, she’d have declined the job and been halfway to her winter spot in Texas.
Tiffany, her boss, talked her into one more assignment before she, Lil, snow-birded out of South Dakota. She’d argued that Lil was closer to the patient’s age and would be more understanding. After signing the contract, Lil learned Walter Sanders had served in Nam. She felt honored to nurse veterans of other wars back to health. Nam, not so much. Too many bad memories, but maybe caring for Walt Sanders would be her chance for redemption.
Lil sighed. Maybe Walt was a trouper and the assignment wouldn’t last the full six weeks that her contract listed. But none of that mattered right now because she was late.
Although the nursing contract didn’t specifically state that she had to be present when the patient arrived home, she liked to be there in the event he needed help exiting the car, crossing over the threshold, or lying down, or just to instill peace of mind that he wasn’t alone.
Her plastic shoes snapping against the sidewalk, she lifted her head to see two sober young faces alongside a creased face with a clenched jaw and spaghetti-western showdown eyes peering through the window. At her.
Defensiveness rallied every nerve in her body. How long had they been watching? Obviously long enough to see her roar into the driveway. Perhaps that’s what caused the sour look on his face. Or maybe he was in pain from the surgery.
Stopping for a moment to compose herself, she realized that in her haste, she wasn’t presenting a very professional or competent picture. Readjusting her sweater and laptop bag, she finger-combed the curls tickling her cheek and tucked them behind her ear. That was the best she could do with her mad mess of curly hair most days. Sometimes it even helped to have the wind beat them into submission. She sent up a little prayer that that was the case today.
With her natural stride she walked up to the entrance. Just as she reached for the storm door handle, a young man opened the door.
She stepped backward, expecting to see the pixie of a girl she’d checked in with. “Hi, I’m Lil Hayes.”
“I’m Mark Sanders, Walt’s nephew.” He stepped aside while holding the door open with his outstretched arm.
“They must have raced through your uncle’s release paperwork,” Lil said as she crossed the threshold.
A gruff baritone barked from behind the door. “Nope. Only one speeding is you.”
So pain wasn’t the cause of the lemon-sucking look she’d witnessed on her patient’s face.
“I have speed limits posted.”
She hadn’t been driving that fast. Lil gulped down the defensive rebuttal on the tip of her tongue. She didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot. “I ran late and I like to be here when my patient arrives, so I hurried a little.”
“A little.” A snort from the senior Sanders echoed through the kitchen.
Obviously she’d already gotten off on the wrong foot. Might as well defend herself. Stepping around Mark, she placed her hand on her hip, pulling herself to her full height of six feet. Practiced at using her extra inches as a towering intimidation device to get her own way, her retort rolled off of her tongue. “You’ve never been a little late? Driven a little too fast?” Let he who’s not sinned cast the first stone.
“Nope, always leave on time.” Walt’s eyes found hers, accepting her challenge, and their stare-down began. His hazel eyes were mesmerizing, daring her to make another remark, of any kind.
The buzz of the refrigerator and offbeat breathing of people cut through the tense silence. Her trained ears caught the respiration of one, two, three people. Someone was holding his or her breath, waiting for the fight to start. She guessed it was Sarah.
“Whoever is holding their breath better release it. I was only hired to care for one person.” Her raised eyebrow goaded Walt to draw another gibe from his arsenal.
“Well.” The word whooshed as Sarah exhaled. “I think we need to rewind here.”
Lil studied her patient. Although he bent over the walker, she guessed his height about five foot eight like his nephew, with the same broad shoulders and husky build, but Walt carried about twenty pounds more than Mark around his torso. Could be the cause of his high blood pressure as indicated in her case file.
Sarah’s words reminded Lil that Walt’s mind and body had been through the trauma of surgery. Dropping her arm to her side, Lil smiled. Walt proved to be a worthy opponent, not bothered by their height difference.
“Walt, I am sorry that I sped through your driveway. I assure you it will not happen again. Please accept my apology.”
His gaze held hers as the walker scraped across the floor toward her, his lips moving as he recited some sort of silent mantra. He angled his path, and when he was beside her he gave a quick nod of his head, the only indication that she was forgiven.
Lil surveyed the living area, something she should have done prior to Walt’s arrival. Small, cozy, and uncluttered. Perfect elements for rehabilitation. A paneled living room extended from the kitchen and from this angle appeared to be rectangular.
A soft groan alerted her that Walt had sat down. She turned and smiled at Sarah and Mark before going over to the table. “You have a cozy home. Just the perfect size—”
“For one? That’s what everyone says.” Walt hung an arm over his walker and laid his other arm on the table, breathing deeply from the excursion.
“I was going to say the perfect size for recovery from hip surgery.” Lil pulled out the kitchen chair closest to Walt and sat down. She lifted bag to the table and pulled out a file. “There are a few things we need to go over.”
“Now might be a good time for us to head home.” Mark walked over to Walt and patted his shoulder.
Walt twisted the walker into position. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
“Not this time.” Sarah wrapped her arms around Walt’s neck in a loose hug. “You sit here and rest.”
Walt reached up a hand and patted her arm. “Can’t thank you enough for all that you’ve done. Appreciate it.”
Although the words were simple, Lil heard the fondness for the young couple inflected in Walt’s tone. Her heart began to warm toward her patient. Perhaps this was the real Walt and what she’d seen so far were the aftereffects of the surgery and meds.
“You call me if you need anything, although I think you’re in capable hands.” Mark grinned at Lil and shrugged his shoulders as Walt harrumphed at his statement.
If Mark thought his uncle was a hard case, he needed to think again. Her first nursing assignment turned out to be her toughest. He’d been a Vietnam vet, too. Lil shivered. Nothing since had compared to that experience, and that was saying something, considering she had worked the night shift in the emergency room most of her career.
“It was nice to meet you, Lil.” Sarah shook her hand again.
“Bye,” Mark said.
Walt lifted a hand and gave him a salute. “See ya.”
Getting right down to business, Lil began, “Did they send home any prescriptions or did you stop and pick some up?”
Walt nodded. “We picked some up.”
“Where are they?”
“In my bag.”
Lil looked
around the kitchen. “Where is that?”
“In the bedroom.” Walt nodded toward the door on the opposite end of the adjoining wall to the living room. He started to stand. “I’ll get them.”
“I’ll get them. You stay sitting.” Her authoritative tone drew raised eyebrows from Walt as she slipped off the chair and rushed across the kitchen. Like squealing tires on pavement, her plastic shoes squeaked her halt on the vinyl floor. She turned to Walt. That was the second time he’d tried to stand after having just taken a seat. “Unless you’re uncomfortable sitting.” Sometimes the pressure of sitting aggravated the incision.
When his tired eyes met hers, she knew. “Would you like to lie down for a while and do all of this later?”
The relief covering his features was the only answer she needed.
“Do you remember when you took your last pain pill?”
Walt held the edge of the table as he stood. “Just before lunch.”
“I’ll get your room ready and find your pain medication, unless you need help?”
With pursed lips Walt shook his head, but Lil noticed a slight grimace as he put weight on his right foot.
Pride. Male patients, especially veterans, were the worst in that way, wanting to be tough all the time. Lil walked over to the door, glancing over her shoulder every few minutes to make sure Walt was doing okay. Slowly but surely, he was making his way across the ten-foot width of the room.
Entering the bedroom, she found his overnight bag on the bed and began to unzip it. The room silenced. The walker stopped its rhythmic clacking thump against the slick flooring. “Taking a rest?” she called over her shoulder as she grabbed the prescription bottle stuck in the outside side pocket of a carry-on bag that had seen better days.
Her only answer was a vibrating rattle.
“Walt!” Lil dropped the plastic container and ran for the kitchen.
Chapter 2
Slouched forward over the walker, Walt’s eyes met Lil’s, sending a silent plea. Lil’s heels took a beating from the flap of her shoes in the seconds it took to reach her patient. She slipped her shoulders under Walt’s right arm and braced as his weight sighed against her body.
Dakota Love Page 31
