Dream of Her Heart

by Shanna Hatfield

  What had shocked her was to see Zane jump out of bed and sock the disgusting man in the stomach. She had no idea how Zane had managed it, but silently cheered him on. With blood trickling down his cheek from a nasty cut, she assumed Floyd threw the first punch. She certainly wasn’t going to allow him to land another.

  What kind of man attacked his blind, recovering-from-a-fiery-plane-crash brother in a hospital room? The despicable, detestable kind — like Floyd West.

  Billie knew from past conversations with Zane there was no love lost between him and his only sibling. But Floyd’s animosity toward Zane was like a living, breathing thing, intent on doing harm.

  She had no idea how two siblings could be so different. It wasn’t just their personalities that were worlds apart. Where Zane was broad-shouldered and muscular, Floyd was skinny and lean to the point of scrawniness. The brothers looked nothing alike.

  Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She could see a faint resemblance in the shapes of their noses, and they had the same shape to their hands, but that was where the similarities ended. Floyd had dark, almost beady eyes, thin lips, and a pallid complexion. She would have assumed a Texas rancher would have skin tanned and weathered from time spent outdoors. However, it sounded as if Floyd spent most of his time at some deplorable establishment gambling, drinking and who knew what else.

  Not finding the supplies she needed at the nurse’s station, she hurried to the supply closet and filled a small metal container with bandages and medicated ointment. She was just about to step out when she heard two men talking and recognized Floyd’s Texas twang.

  “It’s a sorry thing you’re having trouble with your brother,” she heard someone say as they passed by. She waited a moment, then looked out, seeing Floyd with Doctor Bartle. Curious what the two of them might discuss, she followed them when they turned the corner and walked toward the doctor’s office.

  Billie hid behind a gurney when Doctor Bartle glanced her way before motioning Floyd inside his office. Thankfully, they left the door open so she could hear every word they said. She knew she shouldn’t eavesdrop, but as the conversation progressed she was glad she had.

  “My brother’s always been a soft-hearted fool. He never would’ve been able to handle the ranch like I have,” Floyd said.

  “What seems to be the trouble?” Doctor Bartle asked.

  “I need him to sign a paper givin’ me authority to sell our ranch. We own equal shares of it and I can’t sell it without his agreement.”

  “How’s a blind man going to know any different?” Doctor Bartle asked.

  Indignation and anger began simmering in her belly, making her wish she could lambast both of the thick-headed, horrible men.

  Floyd offered a short, derisive bark of laughter. “That’s just the thing of it. He can’t see to sign, even if he knew what the paper said. I got me a feelin’ he won’t sign a thing without someone readin’ it to him, otherwise I’d figure out a way to have him sign over the whole place to me.”

  “What are you doing?” a voice whispered in Billie’s ear.

  She clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming and spun around, glaring at Peggy.

  “Shh. Listen to this,” she said low enough only Peggy could hear as she pointed to Doctor Bartle’s office.

  Peggy leaned closer, listening to the two men talk.

  “You know, for the right price, I might have a solution to your problem. Not all the patients here survive. Some become terribly ill and pass away despite the valiant efforts of our staff. I have a nurse who’d be more than willing to help bring about his death.”

  “Ya don’t say,” Floyd said, his tone full of curious wonder. “I’d dearly mourn the passin’ of my beloved little brother.”

  Both men chuckled before Floyd spoke again. “What’s it gonna set me back?”

  “For a thousand dollars, we can take care of things for you. Half to do the job, and half when it’s finished.”

  “It’s a deal. How long will it take before I’m the sole heir of the ranch?”

  “Well, we can do it two ways. Zane’s health can slowly decline, with a little help. The nurse can mix up his medication or mess with his food, depending on what is needed to get the job done.”

  “Is there a faster solution?” Floyd asked.

  “I like the way you think,” Doctor Bartle said with a wicked chuckle. “I can give him a shot that’ll end him like that.” The sound of fingers snapping carried out to Billie. “Then you’d be free to do as you wish.”

  “How about ya give him that shot in the mornin’? I can act like the grievin’ brother when I come to see him and he’s dead. Here’s yer deposit. I’ll bring the rest of the money with me tomorrow.”

  The sound of a chair scraping against the floor sent the two women racing down the hall and around the corner.

  “Did you hear that? They’re planning to kill Zane,” Billie said, stunned by the revelation.

  “Even worse, Doctor Bartle has done it before. I bet I know which nurse is helping him.”

  “Me, too. We need to tell Doctor Ridley about this right away,” Billie said. The two women hurried down the hall to the doctor’s office.

  “I knew something was wrong with Bartle, but couldn’t place my finger on it,” Doctor Ridley said after Billie and Peggy relayed what they’d discovered. “That’s it. I’m not going to stand by another day and let him run amuck in my hospital. Your word against his won’t likely result in his arrest, but we must do something. Perhaps I can go to the board and we can have his license revoked at the very least. Also, we must determine if Nurse Homer is the nurse he mentioned.”

  “Doctor Ridley? What if Zane wasn’t here and someone else was in his bed, waiting for Doctor Bartle and Nurse Homer in the morning?” Billie asked, a plan quickly formulating in her thoughts.

  The doctor stopped pacing around his office and stared at her a moment. A slow smile creased his face and he nodded his head.

  “Go on. What do you have in mind?”

  “Well, what if…”

  Twenty minutes later, Billie practically ran down the hall to room seven. The blood had dried on Zane’s cheek when she returned to his side.

  “My apologies for taking so long to get back to you, Zane. Something popped up quite unexpectedly.” She dabbed at the blood with a soft, warm cloth until it loosened, then she cleansed the wound. It didn’t require stitches, but was a nasty gash that had to sting. “I’m afraid that might leave a scar.”

  “It’ll match the rest,” Zane said, with a wry grin as she carefully applied medicated cream over the spot.

  “What did he hit you with?” A faint design was visible along the edges of the wound.

  “His fist, but he wears a big ol’ ring with a raised lion in the middle of it.” Zane lifted his hand to his face and gingerly touched the bandage she’d just secured over the cut. “That’s what caused the cut. If it wasn’t for that ring and the fact he was fighting a blind man, he’d still be trying to pull himself up off the floor.”

  “I think a bit of fresh air would be just the thing for you right now, Zane. Are you up to it?” Billie asked, eager to get him alone so she could explain what was about to take place.

  “I reckon I can muster enough juice to get myself outside.” He rose from the bed and Billie guided him from the room. Peggy saw them coming as Doctor Bartle stopped by the nurse’s station and asked the doctor to accompany her to see a patient down the opposite hall.

  Billie knew she’d owe her friend for that.

  Together, she and Zane made their way out to the courtyard. She waited until Zane was settled on a bench in the warm sunshine before she sat beside him.

  “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, Billie, girl?” Zane asked. It was as if he could read her mind even though he was unable to see her face. “I know you didn’t bring me out here because I needed a stroll in the fresh air. There’s a storm brewing and if I’m not mistaken it has something to do with my lunk
headed, conniving brother.”

  Billie explained what she’d heard Floyd and Doctor Bartle discussing, the plans she’d made with Peggy and Doctor Ridley, and how Zane had to pretend he knew nothing the rest of the day.

  “Are you sure the other fellas will be okay in the room? I don’t want one of them getting hurt,” Zane said, rubbing his thumb across Billie’s palm as she held his hand.

  “We’ll tell them what’s happening in the morning and give them the choice of being moved to another room temporarily. If I know those men at all, though, not one of them will go anywhere.”

  “Probably not.” Zane released a long, beleaguered breath. “I’m sorry to cause work and trouble for all of you.”

  Billie gaped at him. “Are you crazy, Zane West! You didn’t do anything wrong. This is all on your brother and Doctor Bartle, and Nurse Homer if we can catch her helping to carry out their devious plans. What kind of man plots to have a fine, upstanding war hero such as yourself killed?”

  “I’m no hero, Billie, but Floyd is a disgusting excuse of a human.” Zane ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “It’s kind of hard to imagine him hating me that much, but it doesn’t exactly surprise me. He’s never cared about anyone but himself.”

  “Was he that awful to you when you were kids?” Billie asked. “And why does he call you Two-Bit, other than the fact it clearly irritates you.”

  Zane turned his face away, as though he gathered his thoughts. Billie wished she hadn’t asked questions that obviously upset him.

  When he remained silent, she placed a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to answer my questions, Zane. Forget I asked.”

  “No. It’s fine, Billie.” He inhaled a deep breath then turned toward her. “My brother was six when I was born. Since he’d spent so much time as the spoiled and pampered lone child on the place, he viewed me as an interloper. When I was just about a year old, we’d gone to town. Floyd was supposed to keep an eye on me while Mama was in the store. One of the old-timers happened upon us and offered to give Floyd two-bits for me as a joke. My brother took the money and left me with the old man, telling him I wasn’t worth two-bits, but he’d have to keep me since they made a deal. Dad thought it was hilarious. Mama was livid Floyd let me out of his sight. And my brother decided I would be called Two-Bit from then on. Anytime someone would say something kind to me, Floyd would tell them I wasn’t even worth two-bits.”

  “He sounds like he’s always been a horrible person, even as a child.”

  Zane nodded his head in agreement. “You have no idea. He was lazy, mean, and lied so often, no one knew when he was actually telling the truth. The sad thing is he only got worse as he aged.”

  “What did your parents think of Floyd?”

  “Dad thought he’d grow out of it, learn to be a good man by example. I think he knew how Floyd was, but he just kept hoping he’d change. Floyd didn’t fool Mama, though. I was only seven when she died in childbirth, right along with my newborn sister. She loved children and wanted a houseful, but had a lot of trouble carrying them.”

  “I’m so sorry, Zane. There is no good age to lose a parent, but that age is particularly hard.” Billie laid her hand against his back and gave it a comforting rub. “What about your father?”

  “Dad passed away three years ago. His horse stepped in a hole and threw him. Dad landed on a pile of rocks and crushed his spine and messed up things inside. He spent five days in the most intense pain anyone could imagine before he passed away. Thanks to the ranch foreman getting in touch with me right after it happened, I was able to get home and see him the day he died. It meant a lot to me to be able to tell him goodbye. Right after the funeral and the reading of the will, which gave Floyd and me equal shares of everything, Floyd threatened to shoot me if I ever stepped foot on the place again. He was expecting Dad to leave him the whole ranch, free and clear. It put quite a crimp in his tail that he had to share with me.”

  Zane leaned forward then straightened back up, favoring his still tender side.

  “If you were gone, Floyd would have the whole ranch to himself and could do as he pleased. And if you’re still around, he has to run decisions like selling the place past you and get your official approval. Is that correct?”

  “That’s right,” Zane said, getting to his feet and walking back and forth by the bench.

  Billie hated to see him restlessly pacing, but she was glad he was comfortable enough in his surroundings to move normally without the fearful hesitant steps he generally took. Maybe he was still so worked up over Floyd that the need to move overruled everything else.

  “We better get you back to your room. There’s much to be done before your ride to freedom arrives.”

  Zane’s hand clasped hers tighter as she led him toward the hospital door. “Are you sure Rock doesn’t mind?”

  “Not at all. When Doctor Ridley spoke with him, he said Rock sounded quite pleased at the idea. He’ll be here after supper, once everyone has settled down for the night.”

  “Good.”

  Billie guided Zane back to his bed and while the men were occupied with their evening meal, she quickly packed his bag. He’d just have to wear a robe when he left, but that couldn’t be helped at the moment.

  Under the guise of gathering dinner trays, she managed to stash his bag on the bottom of a cart and roll it out of the room. She hid the bag in Doctor Ridley’s office then returned to her duties.

  Her nerves were jangled by the time the men settled down for the night and the hallways grew quiet.

  It was a little past ten when Rock Laroux appeared at the nurse’s station. Peggy and Doctor Ridley had remained behind to help carry out the plans. The doctor quietly made his way into room seven and led Zane to the door while Peggy made sure no one would see them. She arranged pillows on Zane’s empty bed so a nurse walking by would think he still slept there.

  With the doctor on one side of him and Rock on the other, they snuck Zane down the back stairs and out a little-used door to where Rock’s car waited behind the hospital. Billie carried Zane’s bag and Peggy had a basket full of medical supplies they thought Zane might need while he stayed at Rock’s place.

  Rock had agreed it might be best for Billie to come along and get Zane settled for the night, so she climbed in the car.

  She sat in the backseat with Zane, his head cradled on her lap as exhaustion pulled him into sleep. Her fingers stroked across his brow and through his hair, seeking comfort from the motions as much as offering it to him.

  While Rock drove, they spoke little, concern for Zane’s wellbeing uppermost in their thoughts.

  It took almost an hour before Rock turned off the road and pulled up a short driveway. Gravel crunched beneath the tires as he drove around to the back of a house she and Zane had visited when they were trying to find Rock.

  “We looked for you here, back in May,” Billie said, peering through the darkness to the house aglow with lights. “Zane and I stopped here, but no one answered the door.”

  Rock glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “I wouldn’t have been in any shape to answer the door, let alone hear you knock.”

  Before Billie could ask questions about who else might have been there, who cared for him, Rock parked the car.

  “The bedrooms are closer to the back of the house. I thought it would be easier to go in this way.” Rock glanced over the seat at Billie then hurried out of the car.

  He opened the back door of the sedan and placed a hand on Zane’s arm as he sat up, groggy with sleep.

  “Hey, Zane, we’re gonna get you inside and settled now. Just follow my lead.” Rock helped him out of the car and looked back at Billie. “If you leave those things, I’ll come back and get them.” Before she could reply, Rock guided Zane up the back steps and through the door.

  Billie left Zane’s bag but grabbed the basket and hurried to catch up to the men. The hand-carved screen door on the back entrance featured a crane in a grouping of cattails and appeared to h
ave been made by a talented artist.

  She opened it and stepped inside, going down a hallway into a brightly lit kitchen decorated in cobalt blue and white. Tidy, neat, and filled with decorative touches, the air smelled of chocolate and coffee, reminding her empty stomach she hadn’t made time for lunch or dinner.

  “Welcome to our home. You must be Nurse Brighton. I’m Mrs. Laroux.” A tall woman with black hair motioned for Billie to follow her as she left the kitchen and went down a hallway into a bedroom.

  Billie hardly paid any mind to the comfortable, homey room where Rock helped Zane settle into a large bed. She was too focused on her patient.

  Zane’s skin no longer looked healthy, but pale, and beads of sweat dotted his upper lip. She took his hand in hers, finding it clammy.

  “It’s so kind of you both to open your home to him, especially under these trying circumstances.” Billie spoke in a quiet tone, hoping Zane wouldn’t hear.

  He rolled his head toward her and grinned. “Aw, just tell it like it is, Billie, girl. My brother’s the biggest horse’s patootie that ever lived.”

  His words sounded slurred, almost like he was drunk.

  Worry gnawed at Billie as she began digging through the basket of supplies she’d brought from the hospital. She glanced over her shoulder to where Rock stood with his arm resting around the waist of his wife. “May I please have a warm cloth for him and perhaps a glass of water?”

  “Of course,” Rock’s wife said, disappearing from the room. She quickly returned with a cool glass of water, a warm cloth, and a shallow basin half-full of steaming water.

  “Is there anything else he needs or I can help with?” the woman asked in a soft, articulate tone that gave Billie the impression the woman was educated, perhaps even well-to-do, yet kind.

  “No, this is perfect. Thank you.” Billie sponged Zane’s face, hands, arms and chest then checked the bandage on his side.

  Rock and his wife both left the room, but Rock returned a few moments later carrying Zane’s bag, setting it at the foot of the bed out of the way.