“Well, there was a salesman who kept coming around. The man was deranged, to put it mildly,” Rock said. Zane heard him release a long breath before he continued. “Anyway, he got it in his head he was going to take this place, regardless of the fact I’d just purchased it and held the deed. One afternoon when I was gone, he snuck in here, tied Miko to a tree and left her unconscious while he ransacked the house. He was in the midst of tearing the place apart looking for the deed when I walked in and he shot me. Petey Phillips just happened to come over and you wouldn’t believe what that boy did.”
“What did he do?” Zane asked, eager to hear more of the story.
“Petey is pretty handy with a slingshot. He filled a bucket with rocks and rotten fruit and waited for Norman to come out the back door. The little rascal had spread marbles across the step so thick, Norman didn’t have a chance. Every time he tried to move, Petey would blast him with another shot. Anyway, if it wasn’t for Petey, I’m quite sure Norman would have killed us both.
“When did this happen?” Zane asked, realizing it had to have been a recent occurrence since Rock hadn’t been married more than a few months.
“About six weeks ago.”
Shocked by this revelation, he bumped his arm against Rock’s. “And you didn’t think to tell me before that you’d been shot by a madman?”
Rock chuckled. “Well, it was just a graze, right above my ear. Miko took good care of it.”
“And you weren’t injured?” Zane asked, turning toward Miko.
“No, I was fine. The young people who work for us came and helped clean up the mess in the house and Petey became a local celebrity for a while.” Miko laughed. “He still mentions it from time to time.”
“I look forward to meeting Petey. I reckon the little sprout is in school now. Didn’t it just start back up?”
“Yes, last week,” Miko said. “I miss having him around all the time. He keeps things lively.”
“I’m sure he does.” Zane asked about the farm, the crops they raised, and what they had left to harvest. “Are you picking produce today?”
“We are,” Rock said. “We’ve got green beans coming out our ears. Miko is going to get a bunch of them canned today.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Zane assumed the best thing he could do was stay out of their way, but he wanted to at least make the offer.
“I might put you to work snapping beans,” Miko said with a warm smile in her voice. “If you feel up to it.”
“I think I could do that much,” Zane said, using the tip of his fork to make sure he hadn’t left any food behind on his plate. He found one last bite of egg and finished it, then drained the glass of milk. After drinking canned or powered milk in the South Pacific and what the hospital had to offer, the fresh farm milk tasted more like cream. He wondered what the chances were of getting a glass of buttermilk. It had been ages since he’d had any.
He listened as chairs scraped back and dishes clanked. Rock’s hand settled on his shoulder. “Shall we see about getting you cleaned up?”
“Sure,” Zane said, getting to his feet and turning toward the sound of running water where he imagined Miko washed the breakfast dishes. “Thank you for the best meal I’ve had in a while, Miko.”
“You’re welcome, Zane. If there is anything in particular you’d like to eat for supper, let me know. We’re having roast beef sandwiches for lunch.”
“That sounds delicious.” He took a few steps with Rock. “And I’m not a picky eater. Rock can attest to that.”
Miko laughed softly then he heard her take a few steps toward him. “Oh, I almost forgot about rinsing your eyes with the solution Nurse Brighton left behind. When would you like to do that?”
Zane wanted to tell her he’d like to not do it at all. He hated the treatments, but Billie had assured him if he wanted his eyes to get better, he had to have them.
“Maybe Rock could help me do it while I’m getting clean,” Zane suggested. It would be an easy enough thing to pour the liquid over his eyes while he was in the bathtub or shower.
“Sure. I can take care of it,” Rock said, as they took steps forward. Zane could feel the difference in the floor as they stepped from the linoleum of the kitchen onto the hardwood in the hallway. “Miko better be the one to change the bandages, though.”
Zane was happy to discover Rock and Miko’s bathroom had a showerhead in the bathtub. After turning on the water, handing him a bar of soap, and helping him step over the edge of the tub, Rock left Zane to enjoy the steamy spray.
To be able to stand up and take a shower seemed like such a trivial thing, but it meant the world to Zane at that moment. There were times in the past few weeks he began to think he’d never leave the hospital. He couldn’t imagine how Rock must have felt after spending months there, getting worse instead of better.
Zane got down to the business of getting clean then managed to turn off the water. He’d just wrapped a towel around his waist when Rock returned and rinsed his eyes with the solution. The light hurt so badly when he opened them, he could hardly stand the intensity of the pain. Despite that, though, he thought his eyesight was starting to come back. Rather than seeing nothing when his eyes were open, he was beginning to discern fuzzy shapes. Encouraged by that fact, he continued to endure the treatments and hoped for the best.
Rock guided him to his room where Zane dressed in a clean pair of pants. He didn’t bother with a shirt since Miko would have to bandage the wound on his side. Back in the kitchen, he sat on a chair while Miko wrapped a strip of gauze over his eyes then applied ointment to the healing injury on his side. She covered it with a thick gauze pad and taped it in place.
“You’re set for the day,” Miko said, brushing her fingers over the bandage to make sure the tape would hold.
When Billie changed his bandage, Zane felt like he might spontaneously combust each time she touched his bare skin. The slightest contact seared his flesh and made his blood zing through his veins.
With Miko, he felt nothing other than appreciation that she was willing to help him.
“We’re going to go out and start picking the beans, Zane. Do you want to stay in the house or come out on the porch?”
Zane hated to admit it, but he was tired and ready for a nap. “I think I’ll stay inside, if you don’t mind.”
“We don’t mind at all. Make yourself at home. If you turn about sixty-degrees to your right and walk straight, you’ll find the doorway to the dining room. It’s a straight path through it to the living room and the couch,” Rock said. “Would you like some help?”
“No. I’ll find it,” Zane said, offering what he hoped was an encouraging smile to his friend. “I’ll be ready to snap those beans when you come back.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Miko said, placing her hand on his arm again. “I left a plate of cookies on the table and a glass of buttermilk in the refrigerator in case you need a snack.”
Buttermilk and cookies? The woman must have read his mind. “You’re an angel. You should have waited for me instead of marrying this gangly galoot.” Zane placed his hand over Miko’s where it still rested on his arm and gave it a squeeze.
Miko laughed and stepped away from him. “I kind of like this gangly galoot. Besides, I’ve almost got him trained the way I like. I’d hate to have to start all over again.”
Zane barked with laughter as the couple walked down the back hall and outside.
With his hands in front of him, he turned and took cautious steps forward. The linoleum changed to hardwood when he stepped into the dining room. His left hand grazed across the back of a chair. He eased past it and continued forward.
A floorboard groaned beneath him and his shin bumped into a low table. He felt his way around it to the couch and sank down into the comfortable cushions. In moments, he was asleep, dreaming of a nurse with golden hair and a brilliant smile.
Two hours later, he awoke feeling rested. Afraid of knocking over something he could
n’t see, he carefully sat up and felt his way back to the kitchen. It wasn’t until he reached the room he realized Miko hadn’t told him where to locate the refrigerator. He stepped to the left until he bumped against a counter and felt his way forward.
He found the sink, the enamel surface cool to his touch. He longed to turn on the water and splash it over his face, but it would only soak the bandage over his eyes and make more work for Miko. He continued in his quest, hand connecting with the warm door of the oven. Was something baking inside or did the heat linger from something Miko had baked earlier that morning?
A few more steps and another length of counter, and he found the refrigerator. Pulling on the door latch, he opened it and stood in the blast of cool air that swirled around him. Hesitant of knocking over something he couldn’t see, he reached a tentative hand inside and felt along the top shelf. His hand connected with a glass and he stuck the tip of his finger in it, tasting the liquid.
He grinned and removed the glass. It was definitely buttermilk. He carried the glass across the room to where he thought the table should be and felt with his foot and hand until he connected with a chair. He sat down then reached out, searching for the plate of cookies. A napkin covered it, but Zane set it aside and pulled the plate closer.
He bit into a bar cookie that was moist, packed with nuts and coconut. It was nothing like anything he’d had before, but he liked the flavor. Cool, tangy and slightly tart, the buttermilk slid down his throat with a refreshing smoothness that perfectly complemented the cookie.
Zane leaned back in the chair, wishing Bud was there to share the treat with him. Bud with his love of cookies would enjoy the bars Miko had made.
Thoughts of Bud and his crew darkened Zane’s otherwise bright start to the day. He’d had a letter from Bud, letting him know he and the rest of crew were all recovering nicely from their wounds. Bud had burned his left hand and a length of shrapnel had pierced his right shin, but had suffered no other wounds and expected to be back in a plane in another month or so. The rest of the crew, with the exception of Smitty, escaped with nothing more than cuts, bruises, and a few broken bones.
Bud told him his warning to brace themselves before they crashed allowed them to prepare for the impact and minimize the damage. In spite of his friend’s assurances that without him there may have been worse injuries or many deaths, Zane didn’t feel comforted by the words. He felt guilty. No matter how many times he tried to think of a better way he could have landed, nothing came to him.
His landing gear was stuck, the engines were dead, and he barely had control of the plane. His head knew there was nothing more he could have done, but his heart protested. Surely there was a way Smitty could have been spared.
Before he could tumble headlong into his dark thoughts, Rock and Miko returned. He heard them setting down something heavy, he assumed baskets full of beans.
“I’ll be back for lunch,” Rock said then left.
For the next hour, Zane sat at the table and snapped beans. He had a feeling he probably hindered Miko’s work more than he helped, but sitting in the kitchen with the radio playing quietly in the background and the smell of something baking in the oven took him back to his childhood when he’d sometimes helped his mother when she was busy canning. It was a time when he could enjoy her attention without Floyd’s interference. He owned many special memories of moments spent with her there in the sunny kitchen of his youth.
“You’re doing great, Zane. Thank you for helping me,” Miko said, taking the bowl of beans he’d filled and setting an empty bowl in front of him. “I think you’ve done this before.”
He smiled as he snapped the ends off another bean. “I used to help my mama sometimes. My brother wasn’t much for work of any kind, but he especially hated being stuck in the kitchen.” Zane shrugged. “I didn’t mind, though. Mama made the work fun and I got to spend time with her.”
“She sounds like a special person. Rock mentioned she and your father are both gone. I’m sorry for your losses.”
“Thank you,” he said, nodding his head. “What about your folks? Do they live nearby?”
“They are in Portland, along with my younger brother and my grandparents. Rock goes to see them every Tuesday and takes them produce from the garden.”
“You don’t go along?”
“No,” she said, cautiously.
Sensing he’d made her uncomfortable, he changed the subject to her preferred brand of canning jars and if she thought he might be able to sample one of their fresh pears.
“I’ll have Rock bring in a few pears after lunch. They’re just starting to ripen,” she said, the smile back in her voice. “Now, you have to tell me at least one unbelievable thing you and Rock did in the wild days of your youth.”
Zane told her about the watering hole with leeches, making her laugh. She was still giggling when Rock returned for lunch and demanded to know what was so funny.
Lunch was a light-hearted affair as the three of them teased and joked like they were all old friends instead of Zane and Miko brand-new acquaintances.
After lunch, Zane went outside with Rock. The warm September sunshine bathed his face as they walked around the yard. Zane hadn’t put on shoes, instead liking the feel of the lush grass beneath his bare feet. The air carried a pleasing assortment of aromas on a spice-laden breeze. He could pick out the hint of ripening pears and apples, the sharp odor of manure, and the loamy smell of earth as it blended with the sweet fragrances of flowers.
“I know I can’t see a blasted thing, Rock, but this sure seems like a nice place.”
“I love it here. I actually bought the place before I married Miko because I just couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.” Rock released a contented sigh. “I think I’m happier here peddling produce with her beside me than I’ve ever been in my life.”
Zane wanted to tell him he was crazy, but he couldn’t. Not when he’d so often dreamed of creating a life with Billie. When he’d left in May, she’d made it clear she didn’t want to be more than friends. However, since he’d been her patient, he’d sensed a change in her. He couldn’t understand it, but there it was all the same.
He and Rock returned to the porch. Zane settled onto a padded chair and tipped his head back, falling asleep almost immediately. He awoke to the feel of fingers brushing through his hair and the fragrance that was all Billie Brighton ensnaring his senses.
Chapter Twenty
Dust covered the toes of Billie’s shoes as she stopped at the end of Miko and Rock’s front walk. She needed a moment to catch her breath and gather her composure before she knocked on the door.
A glance at the front porch made her smile as she started up the walk. Asleep in a wicker chair, Zane rested with his head tipped back and lips slightly parted.
Silently, she made her way up the porch steps and waved at Rock when he came to the screen door. She placed a finger to her lips, letting him know she didn’t want to awaken Zane. Not yet.
The temptation to kiss him out of slumber, to press her lips to his, almost overtook her. Instead of surrendering to the desire, she removed her gloves and tucked them in her handbag then reached out with one hand and brushed it through Zane’s thick, dark hair. He was barefooted, without a shirt on, wearing only a pair of khaki trousers. The sun stroked his golden skin, tantalizing her to follow the path of the sunbeams over his broad chest and muscled midsection.
Zane stirred and tilted his head as he drew in a deep breath. “Hiya, Billie, girl,” he said, somehow knowing she was there. The smile he gave her brought his dimples out of hiding and threatened to turn her knees into softened putty.
She wondered how he knew she was the one ruffling her fingers through his hair. Had he been awake the whole time she’d stood next to his chair, admiring his handsome face and muscular form?
After grazing her fingers through the short wave of hair above his forehead one more time, she pressed the back of her hand to his cheek. It was warm, but not overly so, an
d beneath the white of the bandage covering his eyes, his skin looked healthy, not sallow.
“I think farm life agrees with you,” she said, taking a step back to study him. Something about him seemed different, but she couldn’t say what exactly. How had he changed in the short time he’d been there? Zane appeared more rested, more relaxed, more comfortable than she’d seen him since he’d arrived at the hospital a few weeks ago.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Good. Better than I have for a while.” He stood and turned toward her. “What are you doing here?”
“There was too much news to share over the telephone and I wanted to see how you’re doing.” Billie glanced over at Rock as he pushed open the screen door and stepped outside. She nodded at him and placed her hand on Zane’s arm, guiding him toward the door. “I took the bus out here as soon as I left work. I only had to walk about a quarter mile from where it let me off.”
“Please phone us anytime you need a ride out here,” Rock said, holding open the door as she and Zane stepped inside. “We could at least pick you up at the bus stop.”
“I’ll do that next time,” she said, looking around the spacious living room. To her left was a room that appeared to be an office with bookcases lining the walls and a solid wood desk occupying a large space.
She returned her glance to the living room, taking in brown leather wingback chairs sitting like sentinels on either side of a fireplace. A velvet tufted sofa in a lovely shade of yellow sat across from the fireplace. Tables with lamps flanked both ends. A large Philco radio kept company with a rocking chair and a basket of yarn beneath a side window. Slivers of sunbeams snuck through the glass, refracting through a pale yellow chandelier hanging above their heads and dancing along the far wall in colorful prisms.
“You have a beautiful home here, Rock,” Billie said as they walked through the dining room.
“I can’t take any credit for it,” Rock said as they stepped into the kitchen. He went straight to where Miko stood at the stove stirring a pan of gravy and kissed her cheek. “Supper ready?”
Dream of Her Heart Page 19
