“Coming!” she called from a distance. He couldn’t tell if she was at the barn or somewhere else.
He heard something bang and then her footsteps as she approached him.
“Is everything okay?” she asked as she neared him.
“Yes. I just wasn’t sure if you were here,” he said, annoyed he sounded like a lost little boy.
“I decided to take care of the chores so Rock won’t have to when he gets back. He promised to bring home hamburgers for dinner. There’s a place in Beaverton that’s open on Sundays.”
“That sounds good. I haven’t had a hamburger for the longest time.” Zane followed Miko as she walked up the back steps. “Did you finish the chores or can I help?”
“Nope. I’m finished.” Miko held the door for him as he made his way inside.
In the kitchen, he listened to the familiar sounds of her straining the milk and placing it in the refrigerator. She washed her hands then crossed the floor toward him.
“Billie said we should put these drops in your eyes two to three times a day. Did she give you any drops before she left?”
“No.” Zane knew that was his fault, for acting like a sulking baby.
“Want to do that now or wait?”
“Either way is fine with me,” he said, wishing he didn’t have to accept the drops at all. However, they were far better than the wash he’d endured the last few weeks.
“Why don’t I give you the drops then we can sit on the porch and wait for Rock with Tuffy. If you prefer, we can rest in the living room and listen to the radio.”
“Let’s keep Tuffy company,” Zane said, preferring to be outside whenever the opportunity arose. “The office seemed like a good place to do the drops, since it’s darker in there.”
“Then to the office we’ll go,” Miko said in a cheerful tone.
Zane followed her through the house and sat in the same chair he had yesterday when the doctor was there. He recalled the sizzling kisses he’d shared with Billie and wished he hadn’t let her leave without talking to her. He hoped she’d come back soon and they could discuss the possibilities of a future together.
“Is it one drop in each eye?” Miko asked.
“That’s what Billie did yesterday.”
Zane removed his glasses, tipped his head back and stared upward. A woman’s face appeared in his line of vision.
Miko was close enough he could make out black hair, an oval face, smooth skin. He’d known from the few hugs she’d shared with him that she was tall, nearly as tall as him.
As she drew nearer to give him the drops, his focus improved. He hadn’t expected her to have dark hair or such dark eyes. They almost looked like glossy obsidian in the dim light. She bent closer and Zane sucked in a gasp at the same moment the drops fell into his eyes.
He blinked rapidly, wanting to see her again. To confirm what he’d seen. Make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.
“Did that hurt, Zane? Do you need something?” Miko asked, her voice mirroring her concern.
“No. I’m fine.” He stood and blinked again, desperate to focus on her face. “Can you come closer?”
“Sure,” she said.
Her blurry form took on edges and curves. Zane moved two steps closer, until he was nearer to her than was proper, but he needed to see her face.
His gaze started at her slightly stubborn chin and moved upward to the warm smile on her nicely shaped lips. Small nose, perfect skin.
And eyes that belonged to someone who was Japanese.
Miko was Japanese.
Why hadn’t Rock said anything? Why hadn’t anyone told him?
Hate and fury tried to rise like acidic bile up his throat, but he swallowed it down. Miko had welcomed him into her home, nursed him, even in the middle of the night, and gone out of her way to make him feel welcome and sheltered. She’d joked with him, teased him, and he’d begun to think of her as the sister he’d always wanted and never had.
If he closed his eyes, none of that had changed. Miko was the same no matter her nationality, but it was still hard for Zane to come to terms with the unmistakable truth she was Japanese.
“Zane?” Miko asked, placing a hand on his arm.
Without thinking he shook it off and stepped back, sinking into the chair behind him with a thud.
“Can I get you something? A drink of water? A cool compress? Do you want to go to your room?”
“No, Miko. Just give me a moment, will you? I’ll come outside in a minute.”
“If you’re sure,” she said, sounding hesitant to leave him to his own defenses.
“I’m sure.”
Zane waited until he heard the creak and slap of the wooden screen door before he slipped his sunglasses back on and drew in a ragged breath. His best friend married a Japanese woman.
Would he feel any differently if Rock had married a German woman or an Italian woman, or a woman from Timbuktu?
If the woman was as kind and gentle, funny and caring as Miko, then no, he wouldn’t feel any differently. He was thrilled Rock had found his one true love. His friend deserved a lifetime of happiness with a wonderful girl.
The fact that girl just happened to be Japanese made it hard for him to let go of his prejudice and see her for who she was, not where her ancestors had once lived.
See. Now that was the ironic thing about it all. He couldn’t see anything more than a foot away from his face.
When he had to look at Miko through the eyes of blindness, he’d seen a beautiful person, one who was devoted to Rock, respected by her neighbors, and adored by the young people who worked for them. Petey Phillips had declared no one was any finer than Miko and he had an idea the boy didn’t toss out compliments like that freely.
Miko was gracious and graceful, tenderhearted and hard-working. If he was angry no one had told him she was Japanese, he supposed the only person to blame was himself.
Numerous times, they’d been listening to news reports on the radio and he’d ranted about the stupid Japs. He even recalled saying something the other day about being glad the president had rounded up all the American Japanese like they were cattle and shipped them off where they couldn’t do anyone harm.
Had he insulted Miko? Hurt her feelings? Certainly, his cruel words must have stung.
Yet, she’d continued to be a friend to him, even when he didn’t deserve it.
Embarrassed by his behavior and his attitude, he rose to his feet, knowing he needed to make things right even if she hadn’t said anything was wrong.
He stepped out on the front porch and felt his way to a chair. The bright light made him squeeze his eyes shut, trying to prevent a headache. Outside, he still kept his eyes closed a good deal of the time, even with his sunglasses on, to block out the painful light.
“Miko?” he asked when all remained quiet.
“I’m here,” she said, touching his hand as he settled into one of the padded wicker chairs.
A warm, wriggly body pressed against his legs as the dog made his presence known, not wanting to be ignored. Zane buried his hands in Tuffy’s soft fur.
“What color is he?” he asked, realizing no one had told him what the dog looked like.
“A better question would be what color isn’t he.” Miko’s soft laugh eased his tension. “When you and Petey first dragged him in, he looked almost black, but his bath removed a lot of dirt and grime. His back end and tail are dark brown. His chest is a tan color and his legs are more golden than brown. His face is tan with some white splashes, and his ears are brown. Rock said it would be impossible to guess his breed because it looks like a mix of many. Tuffy is all mutt, but a loveable one.”
Zane scratched behind the dog’s ears and along his back. Tuffy’s tail brushed back and forth across the floorboards of the porch, hinting at how much he enjoyed the attention. He patted the dog’s side. “His ribs aren’t sticking out so much already. That’s good.”
“He’s been eating like there’s no tomorrow, b
ut he’ll fill up soon enough,” Miko said.
Zane heard her chair squeak, like she’d shifted in it.
“Miko, I owe you an apology, a huge one. In fact, I don’t think I deserve your forgiveness, but I’ll beg for it anyway. I’m sorry for going on and on about the Japanese, but I’m especially remorseful for what I said about those who are American and have been sent to assembly centers. I’ve let the emotions of war color my opinions. Even worse, I’ve allowed them to alter my moral compass. It’s wrong to carry around that kind of hatred for anyone, even our enemies. I’m truly sorry for anything I’ve said or done that may have hurt you.”
All was silent for several moments, although he thought he heard a sniffle. Finally, Miko released a sigh and placed her hand on his arm, giving it a gentle pat. “When I put in your drops, you could see me? Is that what happened?”
He nodded. “Yes. I discovered yesterday if someone is really close, I can see them fairly well.”
“That’s wonderful. I mean, that your vision is coming back, not that you decided I was on your ‘hate the Japanese’ list.”
Zane placed his hand over hers before she could pull it away from his arm. “Miko, I don’t hate you. In fact, up until I saw you, I’d decided you are the sister I’ve always wanted. Rock’s been closer than a brother and I looked forward to extending that relationship with you. I’d still like to, if you think you can forgive me, for acting like a dunderheaded fool.”
“I forgive you, Zane. I know you’ve been through terrible things and I can’t even begin to imagine what it must have been like to be at Pearl Harbor, or Midway, or any of the other places you’ve had to fight against the Japanese. My ancestors may have come from there, but believe me when I say my family is about as American as they come.”
He gave her hand a light squeeze then leaned back in his chair. He reached down and stroked the dog, as much for something to do as to comfort the dog. “Will you tell me about your family? How they came to be here? And how you came to know Rock? He’s been oddly vague about the details, although now I understand why.”
“I know. I wanted to tell you from the first day you arrived who I really was, but Rock was afraid you’d take the news he’d married the enemy badly.”
Zane shook his head. “You most certainly are not the enemy, Miko. Not at all.”
She cleared her throat and the chair creaked again. He pictured her settling in it more comfortably. “My great-grandparents came to Portland from Japan in the 1880s. My great-grandfather took any work he could find, saved every penny he didn’t have to spend. In a few years, they’d saved enough money to purchase a quarter section of land. People thought they were crazy for buying a place covered in brush and trees. But they cleared the acres at the bottom of the hill that was now theirs, planted fruit trees, berry bushes, and tilled the soil for a garden. The second year they were here, they added the produce stand. My grandfather was a little boy then. He grew up and took over the business. He and my grandmother built this house and a new produce stand when I was a young girl.”
“Did you live here, too?”
“No. I often came and spent the summers here because I love working in the garden, but my parents lived in Portland. My father had his own real estate business and my mother was quite a socialite. My older sister, Ellen, was the perfect daughter, doing everything mother asked of her. She married a nice Japanese boy and they have two beautiful little girls. They’re in California, in an assembly center there.”
“Do you have other siblings,” Zane asked.
“Just my younger brother, Tommy. He was a senior this year.”
“And your family is in the assembly center in Portland?”
“Yes. Rock goes to see them every Tuesday and takes them fresh produce, and tins of food. It’s a horrible place, from what I understand, although Rock refuses to let me go there. He’s afraid they’d make me stay.”
“They most likely would,” Zane said in agreement. “How did you come to be here with Rock if your family is all there?”
“Pastor Clark, he’s the pastor of the Presbyterian Church we’ve always attended, has only one child, a daughter. Sally and I have been best friends forever. She lives on the coast and was expecting a baby back in the spring. Her husband had just been shipped overseas and she didn’t want to be alone, so I went to stay with her after I was fired from my job. And before you ask, the reason I was fired is because I was Japanese, even though I’d worked there for years. Anyway, I stayed with Sally for several weeks. Her baby is just the sweetest thing. One Sunday afternoon in early May, my father called in a panic for me to rush home because we’d all been ordered to report to an assembly center. I tried to get home in time to report, but no one would sell me a bus ticket. Sally finally left the baby with me and went to purchase one. I was forced to wear a disguise of sorts just to get on the bus. Except on the last bus, I was caught and left by the side of the road about twenty miles from here.”
“What did you do?” Zane asked, feeling sympathy for Miko and what she must have gone through. Overnight, she’d gone from a regular American girl to the enemy.
“I walked home. Rain started as a drizzle, then soon left me drenched. The night was cold and dark, one of the longest I’ve ever endured. It was nearly daylight when I made it here, hoping to catch my family before they left, but they’d gone the day before. I walked around to the back step to get the key and go inside, and found Rock sprawled across the step. I tugged him inside and spent almost two weeks by his bedside, nursing him the best I knew how and praying he’d survive. By that time, I’d become a fugitive and didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t leave Rock alone, yet each day I stayed, I feared someone would find me, turn me in. When Rock finally put the pieces together and figured out what I’d done by staying with him, he refused to let me turn myself in. Pastor Clark agreed with Rock and he married us across the river in Washington. Rock bought the farm from my grandfather with the agreement if Grandpa and Grandma ever want it back, they can have it. This farm has been in my family for generations and I just couldn’t bear to see anyone take it. The man that shot Rock wanted to log all the trees.”
What little Zane could see of the place, he couldn’t imagine it stripped bare and left with nothing but ugly stumps. The farm was beautiful. A lush, green haven, especially with a towering tree-covered hill in the background.
“I’m glad Rock saved the farm, but I’m even more grateful he married you. I’ve never seen him this happy and content with life, Miko. That’s because of you.”
“Thank you, Zane. That means a lot to me, knowing how close the two of you are. I’m sorry we kept all that from you, but Rock didn’t want you to judge me based on my heritage until you got to know me as a person.”
“I have no right to judge at all, Miko, and I realize that now. I’m truly, truly sorry.”
He heard the chair creak again as she rose to her feet and placed a hand on his arm. “How about we quit apologizing and I show you something I think you’d like to see.”
“Sure,” Zane said, feeling the camaraderie he’d so easily shared with Miko return.
She led him to a large storage building he’d not yet been in and pushed open the big door. The dim interior of the building made it easier for him to see. Fuzzy shapes of a tractor and truck took shape. Then he saw what looked to be a car. He bent close and was nearly blinded by the shiny chrome on the Packard convertible. He admired the white sidewall tires and buttery smooth leather seats.
“What color is it?” he asked, unable to distinguish it though the dark sunglasses.
“Laguna maroon. My dad calls it the luna mobile.”
“Is it your dad’s car?”
Miko laughed. “No, it’s mine. I bought it when I was still gainfully employed.”
“It’s quite a car, Miko, for quite a girl.”
“Want to go for a ride? I haven’t taken it for a spin in a long time, mostly because I don’t want to waste our gas rations, but Rock wouldn’t
care.”
“Why not?” Zane grinned and stepped back as Miko backed the car out of the building. She pushed the door shut and grabbed a pair of sunglasses and a broad-brimmed hat she fastened with a bow beneath her chin, then she headed down the driveway. She followed the same route Billie had driven earlier, but rather than cautiously putting along, Miko zoomed down the road, barely slowing at the corners.
Zane hadn’t felt so free since the last time he’d lifted off in a plane just for fun. She turned down the road that would eventually come out on the main road that ran past the Phillips place.
“That place over there,” she said, pointing to her left as she rolled to a stop. “Mac and Carol Danvers lived there. Mac was killed at Midway and Carol died not long after. Their poor son is Petey’s best friend.”
“He went to stay with his aunt in Pendleton, is that right?” Zane asked, trying to focus his gaze. He could make out shapes of trees and the top of a house on the other side of a hill.
“Yes. Delaney wants to sell the place, but right now someone is taking care of this year’s apple crop. It has a big farmhouse and barn, and several outbuildings. Mac always had horses and a few cattle, too. It would make a wonderful place for someone who’s looking to settle down.” Miko put the car in gear.
Zane didn’t know if she was making the statement in general or hinting that he should consider it. What in the world would he do with an apple orchard? He knew ranching and flying planes. Even if he did want to settle down, was this where he wanted to do it? He’d always pictured returning to Texas and building a house on the ranch when he retired from the military.
Recent events made it clear he’d likely never return to Texas, at least not for an extended time. Floyd would figure out a way to keep the ranch just long enough to lose it or he’d sell it. Either way, it would never be Zane’s home again. Truthfully, it hadn’t been since he’d left for West Point.
Miko had given him much to think about, so much to consider. He had to mull over how Billie figured into his plans for the future. Without her, he just couldn’t picture a future at all, at least not one where he was happy.
Dream of Her Heart Page 24
