Dream of Her Heart

by Shanna Hatfield

  Zane finished his Coca-Cola and set the bottle in the empty box. Billie hurriedly ate the rest of her sandwich and pickle then wiped her hands on her napkin. She rose to her feet and followed Zane when he carried their garbage to a trash can at the edge of the park near the parking lot. Together, they walked to the car.

  “Ready to go?” he asked and opened the car door for her.

  She nodded and climbed in. For something to do, she sipped her pop as Zane drove to Gales Creek. “Do you know where his place is located?” she asked as they entered the small town.

  “Not exactly, but he talked about the farm having a big blue barn.” Zane drove through town. “I don’t think it will be hard to find.” A mile down the road, they stared at a blue barn visible from the car. It stood out against the green landscape, although it blended in with the vibrant afternoon sky.

  “That has to be it,” Billie said, pointing toward a lane that led to the farmhouse.

  Zane turned off the road and they soon stopped in front of a freshly-painted fence around a neatly-trimmed yard.

  A young man stepped out of the barn and waved to them.

  Zane got out of the car, but Billie opened her door and stood before he could reach her. Together, they walked toward the man.

  “Howdy, folks. What can I do for you today?” the farmer asked, offering a friendly smile as he approached them. A mottled, gangly mutt trotted next to him, tongue lolling out of his mouth and tail wagging in welcome.

  “Is this the Laroux place?” Zane asked. He moved closer to Billie and settled a warm hand on her back as they stopped in front of the overall-clad man.

  She wondered if it was a natural instinct of Zane’s to be protective. He appeared focused on the farmer and not her, so she assumed he meant nothing by his proximity that bordered on possessive or proprietary.

  The farmer smiled. “This is the Laroux place. I’ve been renting it the last few years. Me and my missus sure like it here.” The young man tipped his head to Billie. “Are you friends with Rock? There’s sure been a bunch of hubbub about him disappearing from the hospital the other day.”

  Zane nodded. “I’m Lieutenant Zane West. Rock and I have been friends for years. I came to town to see him this weekend only to discover he’s gone missing. He hasn’t shown up here yet, has he?”

  The young man shook his head. “No. I haven’t seen him or heard from him. If he needed help, I think he knows he could call and I’d come get him.” He reached down and absently stroked his work-roughened hand through the dog’s fur. “I sure hate to think of anything happening to him. Rock’s a real good egg.”

  Zane grinned. “He is at that. If you do see or hear from him, you’ll call Doctor Ridley at the hospital, won’t you?”

  “Yep. I’ve got his number right by the telephone.” The farmer motioned to the house. “Would you folks like to come in for a cup of coffee or maybe a glass of tea? My wife made some oatmeal cookies this morning that were top notch.”

  Billie glanced at Zane and he gave a slight shake of his head.

  “We thank you for that offer, but we’ll be on our way.” Zane held out his hand. “It was nice to meet you.”

  The farmer shook it with enthusiasm. “It was a pleasure to meet you folks, too. You sure make a handsome couple. Been married long?”

  “Married?” Billie spluttered. Much to her annoyance, Zane merely chuckled.

  “Oh, you know how new brides are,” Zane said, smacking Billie’s cheek with a noisy kiss as he pulled her against his side. She could feel muscles through the fabric of his shirt and wondered what it would be like to truly be held by him, to be thoroughly kissed by him.

  The young man laughed and waved as Zane turned Billie around and walked with her to the car.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Billie quietly hissed.

  “Having a little fun,” Zane said, opening the door and handing her inside. He shut it then waved to the farmer again as he walked around the car and slid behind the wheel.

  “I’ll thank you not to do that again.” She scowled at him as he turned the car around and drove down the lane. In truth she had no idea why she was acting so upset when she really wanted Zane to pull her close and hold her tight. Her gaze fastened on his enticing, entirely too kissable lips.

  Unaware she leaned toward him, her entire focus was on his mouth. Intent, she pondered the flavor of his kisses. Would they be dark and rich? Seductive and decadent? Lost in her imaginings of his firm lips pressed to hers, she didn’t hear him speak until he touched her arm.

  “Billie?” Zane questioned. He cast a curious look her way as he turned onto the main road. “Everything okay?”

  Hot embarrassment seared her cheeks as she realized she’d been about to kiss him.

  “Fine. Everything is fine,” she croaked and turned to stare out the window wondering how she’d survive being trapped in a car with Zane the rest of the afternoon. At the rate she was going, he’d think she was a… a… woman of slack morals.

  Covertly, she glanced over at him, relieved to see he stared at the road ahead and wasn’t paying any mind to her. Relieved, she released the breath she’d been holding and relaxed against the seat. Maybe he’d missed the fact she’d almost kissed him.

  Chapter Three

  Every nerve ending in Zane’s body bolted upright, instantly at attention. Billie was about to kiss him. The timing wasn’t the best, but since he’d spent the past several hours fighting an overwhelming attraction to her, he was more than willing for her soft pink lips to tantalize his.

  Although his primary focus was on finding Rock, Zane couldn’t deny he felt some inexplicable pull to Billie Brighton.

  The moment she’d set foot out of the hospital at noon, he’d been mesmerized. She looked like she’d walked right out of the pages of a fashion magazine in a navy and cream outfit that perfectly accentuated her lush curves. In spite of her diminutive height, Billie Brighton seemed larger than life when she offered him a smile and hurried his direction. She wore a pair of heels that elongated her legs and tugged his gaze to shapely calves visible beneath the hem of her trim skirt.

  The slight hint of her fragrance teased his nose and ensnared his senses. If that wasn’t enough to drive him half daffy, her golden locks, fashioned in an array of shiny curls, bounced on her shoulders with each step that she took.

  Nonchalant, he kept one eye on the road while surreptitiously watching Billie as she leaned toward him. Her gorgeous green eyes glimmered with warmth and yearning, even as her lids began to close and her long eyelashes fanned her cheeks.

  Then, just as quickly as he anticipated the impact of her kiss, she turned away, cheeks pink with color. Rather than comment or tease her for what nearly occurred, he feigned ignorance, purposely holding his gaze on the road.

  He wondered what had stopped her. Although it was probably the smarter, wiser thing to avoid a kiss and any entanglements since he’d be leaving Sunday, disappointment settled over him. Billie failed to deliver something he suddenly realized he quite desperately wanted.

  Confused and unsettled by his unexpected longing to hold Billie in his arms, to learn the unique and delightful flavor of her kiss, he gave himself a mental shake. The one and only reason he was in Portland was for Rock. Now that his best friend was missing, Zane needed to channel all his energy and attention into finding him, not letting a beautiful, engaging, fascinating woman turn his head.

  Billie remained pressed against the car door, as though she considered jumping out. He cleared his throat and pointed to the road in front of them. “I thought it might be a good idea to drive back to Portland on a different road. Maybe we’ll find a clue heading this way.”

  Curtly, she nodded, then fixed her gaze outside the passenger window again.

  Uncertain what to do to put her at ease, Zane turned on the radio and fiddled with it until the sound of Gene Autry singing “Back in the Saddle Again” filled the car.

  Zane tapped his fingers on the steering wh
eel and whistled along to the tune. When the song ended, he glanced over to find Billie smiling at him.

  “I take it you’re a Gene Autry fan?”

  “I do enjoy listening to him sing,” Zane said with a grin. “What about you? Who do you like to listen to?”

  “Oh, I like all kinds of music, but Bing Crosby is one of my favorites. No one can croon a song quite like he can.” Billie’s smile widened when a Bing Crosby song came on the radio just then.

  Zane turned up the volume as Bing sang about being an old cow hand from the Rio Grande. “Nothing wrong with a little Bing,” he said, smiling at her.

  Billie giggled. “I think you found the western music hour. You must love cowpoke music.”

  He nodded. “I guess I do. It makes me think of the ranch and my growing up years.”

  “And that was in Texas?” Billie asked, shifting in the seat so she faced him. Her earlier embarrassment appeared to be forgotten, replaced by open curiosity. “What was life like there? I’ve never been any further than the coast, and it’s only a few hours away. Is Texas as big and as grand as I imagine?”

  “It is big and grand. Where the ranch is located, it can get blistering hot in the summer, and we’ve even had a few blizzards in the winter. The wind often blows. It’s located in Northern Texas, in an area considered part of the High Plains. Cactus even grows on the far end of the ranch.”

  “Really? I’ve always wanted to see a cactus in person,” Billie said, raptly listening to his description.

  “They aren’t all that fun, especially if you land in a patch of ’em.” Zane winked at her before he continued describing the region where he grew up. “Amarillo is the closest big city and it’s been a transportation hub in the region for quite a long time. There’s a big ol’ canyon in the area, too. When I was no bigger than a grasshopper, we’d go there for picnics sometimes or just to ride our horses for fun. They opened up a park a few years back on almost thirty-thousand acres, even though the canyon spans about twenty miles in width and runs for about a hundred miles. Palo Duro basically means hard wood. My dad always said it was because of all the mesquite and juniper trees that grow there.”

  “It sounds amazing.” Billie continued giving him her full attention. “Do people live in the canyon, or just visit the park?”

  Zane nodded. “Natives have lived there for thousands of years. One time, my brother and I found a big bone. Dad took it to a friend of his who works at a university. Turns out, it came from a mammoth.”

  Billie’s eyes widened in astonishment.

  “Apache lived there for a while, and then the Comanche and Kiowa moved in until the cavalry swooped in to transport them to Oklahoma. The Indians weren’t too eager to go until the Army captured more than a thousand of their horses and destroyed them. With no means of transportation, they surrendered.”

  “That’s horrible.” Billie pressed a hand to her chest. “Those poor horses, and people.”

  “It was a sad thing. There were also a few ranchers who lived in the canyon. One named Goodnight had more than a hundred thousand head of cattle in his heyday.”

  “What about your ranch? How many cattle does your family run?”

  Due to his brother’s contempt and mismanagement, Zane hadn’t set foot on the ranch since his father’s funeral. After the attorney read his father’s will, his brother had engaged him in a fist fight. Zane could have easily ended him, but instead he’d knocked him out, packed his things and left. Until Floyd got his head on straight or changed his ways, Zane wanted nothing to do with him, even though he missed the ranch.

  Aware Billie awaited his response to her question, he tamped down his worries about the ranch and his brother, and pulled his thoughts from the past. “We generally run about three thousand head.”

  “That’s a lot of cattle. Do you raise crops?”

  “No. Just feed for the animals.”

  Zane slowed as they neared a produce stand. It was closed, but something about it wriggled loose a memory of something Rock had shared with him. “Did Rock ever mention going to a produce stand with his dad?”

  Billie looked out the window at the tidy place. “Once when I’d brought him a cup of peaches to eat he said the best peaches he’d ever had came from a produce stand close to his home, but I have no idea where it was located.”

  “Me either. He mentioned it a few times. Seems like the name of the family who owned it was oriental. You suppose they all had to report to the assembly center?” Zane decreased his speed even further and they both looked at the cheery yellow bungalow and large produce stand as they drove past.

  “Most likely. I think anyone who is even part Japanese had to report this week or face dire consequences.”

  “I read about it in the newspaper.” Zane increased his speed and continued on his way.

  Billie nodded then waved out the window to a little boy with bright red hair and a face full of freckles as he raced through a pasture. The rascal waved both hands over his head in greeting without breaking stride.

  “He looks like he’s a full bucket of fun,” Zane said, glancing back at the child.

  “I bet he’s a handful.” Billie looked over at him and grinned. “I can’t help but wonder if people said that about you as a child.”

  Zane slapped a hand over his heart. “I’m wounded, Nurse Brighton. I’ll have you know I sang in the church choir and won a much-coveted chocolate bar for reciting the most Bible verses at Sunday school.”

  “That covers Sundays.” Her eyes held a spark of mischief. “What about the other six days in a week?”

  Zane grinned. “That’s a whole different story.”

  She gave him a knowing look. “That’s what I thought.”

  “What about you?” Zane asked. “Did you excel at Sunday school and regular school. Did you run circles around your siblings?”

  Billie’s smile faded and the brightness in her eyes dimmed. She looked away, staring out the window again. “No. I don’t have any siblings.”

  “What about your parents?”

  She shook her head. “My father died when I was two and I lost my mother when I was seven. I went to live with my mother’s aunt, but she could barely take care of herself, let alone me, so I was sent to a friend of my mother’s. From there I was passed from home to home until I turned sixteen.”

  “What happened then?” Zane gave her a concerned glance.

  “I decided to take care of myself, so I did.”

  He wanted to reach across the seat and squeeze her hand in understanding. Instead, he gripped the wheel tighter. “How did you come to be a nurse?”

  “I always liked helping people, blood never made me squeamish, and it seemed like a good career. There’s never a shortage of jobs for a good nurse. It took me two years of waiting tables and sharing a one-bedroom apartment with three other girls to be able to save enough to go to nursing school, but I’m glad I did it. I love being a nurse.”

  Admiration for Billie, for what she’d accomplished in spite of her challenges, filled him. Not only was she beautiful, but he could add intelligent, determined, and dedicated to her list of attributes, too.

  Zane shot a quick glimpse her way as they entered the outskirts of a small town. “How long have you been at the veteran’s hospital?”

  “Five years. I worked two years at the city hospital in a variety of positions before I got the job.” Billie looked over at him. “Not that I didn’t enjoy my work there, but I’m grateful for the opportunity to work at the veteran’s hospital, especially now. It makes me feel like I’m contributing my little part to the war effort.”

  “You haven’t been knitting socks or saving grease to take to the butcher?”

  She laughed. “No one ever taught me how to knit, so you’d have to pity the poor soldier who received a pair of socks I made. And the place I live includes meals, so I don’t cook.”

  “Don’t cook or can’t cook?” Zane asked. Didn’t all women know how to cook? Wasn’t that a rite of
passage into womanhood, learning their way around a kitchen?

  “Both. Again, learning to cook and sew weren’t high on the priority list when I was younger. Maybe one of these days I’ll learn.”

  “You mean when you get married and settle down and raise a little family of your own?”

  “Something like that. The cook where I live has taught me a few things, but I don’t have much time for learning.” Billie studied him so intently, he wanted to squirm under her perusal. “What about you? Will you go back to Texas and live on the ranch when the war is over?” she finally asked.

  Zane shrugged. “I doubt it. My brother runs it now. I’ve been in the military for a while and I like it just fine. I’ll probably stay in it after the war ends.”

  He watched shutters drop inside Billie’s eyes, as though she found it imperative to withdraw from him, to create a barrier between them. Although she didn’t move, she might as well have leaped from the car and hit the ground running for all the distance that suddenly separated them.

  Zane drove into the heart of town and parked. Together they got out and walked from business to business, showing the photo of Rock and asking if anyone had seen him.

  As they made their way through town, Zane admired the swept sidewalks and painted storefronts that gave the place a pleasant appearance. It seemed like the type of town where everyone was friendly and welcoming. A great place to raise kids.

  In all his twenty-nine years, Zane had never considered settling down and getting married. But after spending a few hours around Billie, he could suddenly envision himself herding a little boy and girl with bright green eyes and his dimples into the grocery store they’d just left.

  Where in the heck had that vision come from?