When it stopped, Billie looked exhausted. He handed her a glass of water from the bedside table and she took a long drink. After he settled her back on her pillow, he set the glass down and knelt beside the bed, her hands held between his.
“I really did miss you, Billie. I just needed to see you today.” He buried his head in her covers and breathed in her fragrance mingled with a faint hint of soap. “And I owe you an apology. The other day at the farm, after your driving lesson, I acted like the south-end of a north-bound mule and I’m sorry.”
“What upset you?” Her big green eyes gazed at him, filled with questions and worry.
“I know it’s dumb, but it made me mad to think that perhaps the only reason you’re willing to spend time with me is that I’ll never be able to go back to flying. I just got the idea that you liked me better because I’m injured, and one of your patients. It made me wonder if you’d like me half as well if I was still able to fly. I guess it just made me angry and sad all at the same time to think you only like me when I’m less than whole.”
Billie remained silent for several long, uncomfortable moments before she spoke. “The truth is, you weren’t entirely wrong. With you injured, it felt safe to be more open to you than before. Under the assumption your military career is most likely over, I wouldn’t have to worry about you going off and leaving me and never coming home. So I’ll accept your apology, but only if you’ll accept mine.”
Surprised by her admission, he stared at her, unable to speak.
Billie brushed a lock of hair away from his forehead. “I realized something that day, too, Zane. You could just as easily have an accident on the way to the grocery store, or on the farm, or even in the hospital. I can’t foresee the future, and I certainly can’t control it. What I do have control over is living the very best life I can today. And if my very best means leaving my heart open to you, even if you someday return to flying planes, then so be it.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Billie, girl.” Zane cupped her cheek again and gave her a tender smile. “I do care about you, far more than you know.”
As though she’d just noticed his attire, she jerked upright and gaped at him. “Why are you in your uniform? Zane, you can’t possibly be shipping out somewhere. You aren’t healed yet. You haven’t gained back your strength. You…”
He placed a finger to her lips to quiet her. “I’m not going anywhere, at least yet. Miko found out her family is being sent away today. Rock didn’t want her to come with him to say goodbye, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. My uniform is the nicest thing I have to wear right now, so I came along to keep Miko from running into the thick of things while Rock saw them off. We watched from across the tracks, but it broke my heart to listen to her silent tears and see how those poor people are being treated.”
Tears welled in Billie’s eyes as she rubbed her nose with her handkerchief. “I wondered how long it would take before you figured out Miko’s family is Japanese.”
Zane shook his head. “Her family is American. It’s horrible what’s happening to them, to the others who’ve done nothing wrong.”
Billie smiled and patted his cheek. “I’m proud of you Zane. You were so adamant in your feelings about the Japanese, Rock was clearly afraid of what you’d do or say when you found out about Miko. She’s a lovely person, regardless of her ancestry.”
“She is a lovely person. A lovely, caring, genuinely kind person, which is why I decided she and Rock could use some time without their built-in chaperone.”
“They both love having you there, Zane, but it’s nice of you to give them time alone today. I’m sure Miko is beside herself. Do you know where her family is going?”
“A guard mentioned Idaho, but I don’t know any more than that. Rock was going to see what he could find out later. Today isn’t the day to press for answers to questions.”
Billie sighed and leaned back against her headboard. “No, I suppose not.” She sniffled and wiped her nose again. “I’m such a mess and you really shouldn’t be here. What if Miss Burwell comes in? She’ll toss me out on my ear.”
Zane chuckled. “Perhaps, but it’s such a cute little ear.” His finger traced the rim of Billie’s ear before trailing along her jaw.
“Zane,” she whispered and closed her eyes, as though she needed something, longed for something. However, with her sick and him in a strange, somewhat pensive mood, today wasn’t the time to speak from his heart. But soon.
“What can I get you, beautiful? Do you need some juice? Toast? A cup of tea?”
“No. The cook said she’d bring me something at noon.” Billie glanced at the clock then her eyes widened. “She’ll be here any moment. You really need to go.”
“Oh, it’ll be fine, Billie, girl. Besides, I don’t think I have enough juice left in me to climb back down the tree.” He gave her a pleading, boyish look. “Can’t I stay a little while? Please?”
Before she could answer a tap sounded on the door.
Billie gave him a frightened look and pointed toward her closet. Zane stood, kissed her forehead, and then boldly strode to the door.
“Right on time,” he said, swinging the door open with a charming smile.
“What are you doing up here, young man?” Miss Burwell asked, her features pinched with disapproval as she glared at him.
“I heard Billie was sick and stopped by to check on her. I hope that’s okay. I just wanted to see for myself that she’s on the mend.” Zane took the tray from the woman’s hands and set it across Billie’s lap.
“Why on earth are you wearing sunglasses?” the old woman demanded.
“Well, when my plane crashed, there was a fireball that burned my eyes and left me blind for a while. The light still makes them hurt a might more than I can stand, so I wear dark glasses to help manage the pain.”
“Gracious!” Miss Burwell said, placing a hand to her wrinkled throat. “And you can see now?”
“Mostly. I can see up close well, but things in the distance are still fuzzy. The doctor said he thinks I’ll get most of my vision back, even though I’ll likely never fly again.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” The woman gave him a long, studying glance, one he would have felt even if he couldn’t see it. “If you are here in Miss Brighton’s room, might I assume you are the legendary Captain West?”
“That’s me, ma’am,” Zane said, offering the woman a sharp salute. “You must be the legendary Miss Burwell.”
She tittered and the hint of a smile tickled the corners of her thin mouth. “It’s nice to meet you, Captain West. However, I can’t allow any male to be here in the rooms with my girls. You may stay long enough to eat lunch with Miss Brighton, then you absolutely must go. I’ll send the cook up with another tray.”
“Thank you, Miss Burwell. That’s very kind of you,” Zane said, smiling at the woman.
“Yes, thank you, Miss Burwell,” Billie said, finally regaining her ability to speak after she’d stared at Zane and her landlady in shocked muteness.
Miss Burwell gave them both a leveling look. “I’ll leave the door open, so I better not find it closed when I return.”
“It’ll be open, ma’am,” Zane assured her.
When she left the room, he pulled a chair over next to Billie’s bed and sat down, stirring her cup of hot tea then handing it to her.
“Take a sip of that, Billie, and eat your lunch like a good girl.”
Thirty minutes later, he finished the last bite from a generous slice of spice cake sweetened with molasses and loaded with nuts. The cook had brought him a tray with two thick, smoky ham sandwiches, a heaping portion of potato salad, a whole pickle, the piece of cake, and a tall glass filled with cold milk.
“Mmm. That was sure good,” Zane said, wiping his mouth on a napkin and glancing over at Billie.
She’d nibbled at her toast, leaving it half-eaten, drank most of her tea, and then rested against the pillows. Her eyes had grown drowsy as she listened to him talk about
things happening at the farm, how Tuffy gained weight, and amusing things Petey had said or done.
He knew he needed to leave, to let her rest, but he hated to go. Footsteps coming up the stairs let him know his time with Billie was at an end. Most likely the person heading their way was Miss Burwell.
Quickly setting aside the tray, he stood and cupped Billie’s chin in his hand then kissed her cheeks, worried since she felt unnaturally warm. “You be a good girl and rest, and get well. When you do, I hope you’ll come out to the farm. There are some things I’d like to talk to you about.”
“I’ll come, Zane,” she whispered, eyes so heavy with sleep she could barely keep them open.
“Rest for now, Billie.” He kissed her forehead then straightened. “I love you, Billie.”
“Love you, too,” she said with a sleepy smile as her eyes closed.
“Captain West, it’s time for you…” Miss Burwell strode into the room, but quieted when she saw Billie asleep and Zane stacking the two trays and lifting them off the bed.
He carried them into the hall and she closed Billie’s door. “Thank you, ma’am, for allowing me to eat lunch with Billie. I haven’t been able to see her much lately and it was good to spend a few minutes in her company. She’ll be okay, won’t she?” he asked, expressing his genuine concern.
“Yes. The poor girl hardly gets a moment’s rest when the others are here in the evening with them fussing over her.” Miss Burwell motioned toward the stairs. “Would you mind carrying those trays to the kitchen?”
“Not at all, Miss Burwell. It was very kind of you to feed me lunch. We had a bit of a rough start to the morning and missed breakfast.”
“I hope all is well now,” Miss Burwell asked.
“Eventually it will be. At least I hope so.”
The older woman led the way to the kitchen. The cook, a jolly round-faced woman, smiled at him as he entered and took the trays from him.
“That was a wonderful lunch. The cake was especially delicious. I can’t think of the last time I had spice cake that good. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Captain. It was my pleasure to feed a hungry man. These girls eat like little birds half the time.”
Zane chuckled. “But such pretty birds they are.” At Miss Burwell’s scowl, he snapped his mouth shut.
“I’ll walk you out, Captain West.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He followed her to the door of the kitchen then grinned at the cook. “Thanks again for the fine grub.”
Miss Burwell walked down the hallway with staccato steps, back straight and curls tight against her pink scalp. She stopped at the front door and opened it. “The next time you’d like to visit Miss Brighton, might I suggest the front door. In your shape, you might have broken your neck shimmying up that tree.”
Caught off guard by the woman’s words, Zane couldn’t help but stare at her in surprise.
She smiled and waved her hand out the door. “Go on, get out of here. And don’t be telling anyone I broke my rules for you. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am. Absolutely, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.” Zane felt like a school boy who’d just discovered the teacher didn’t really hate him after all.
He jogged down the steps and out to the sidewalk, then turned and saluted Miss Burwell. When she waved at him, he shoved his hands in his pockets and whistled as he made his way to the bus stop.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Zane walked through the house, calling for Rock or Miko. Neither of them answered. He even opened the door to the basement and called, but only the sound of his voice bounced back to him.
“I wonder where they could be?” he mused aloud. He and Rock had spent the morning digging up potatoes and an assortment of root vegetables that would be stored in the cold recesses of the basement or sold in the produce stand.
After lunch, Rock went to work on an old harrow he’d bought for practically nothing at an auction the previous weekend.
Zane offered to clean the barn and had just finished spreading a clean layer of straw in the stalls when he decided to go for a ride on one of the horses. He’d brushed them, fed them, made friends with them, but had yet to ride one. The yearning to be in the saddle again was more than he could stand, so he went to the house to change from the old Army boots he wore around the farm into his cowboy boots.
His footlocker had finally arrived a few days ago and not a moment too soon. He was thrilled to have his possessions again. Additionally, the family friend who’d kept his things in storage had sent a few trunks of his belongings and they’d also arrived.
Ten days had passed since Miko’s family had been carted off on the train to a location they still had yet to discover and he’d had lunch with Billie. He hadn’t gone back to town, but he had telephoned and spoken with Miss Burwell once and Billie three times, assured she was getting better. The day she returned to work, she’d phoned that evening to tell him how the boys in room seven were so excited, it seemed like a party. She’d laughed and said they told her life at the hospital was too boring without her there to liven things up.
It was true.
Billie was such a bright light. One that shone on those around her. A light he hoped to claim for his own.
Zane yanked on his cowboy boots, fastened on his spurs, and grabbed his old Stetson off a hook by the back door. He jogged down the back steps and headed to the barn, wondering where Rock and Miko had disappeared. On a few occasions, they seemed to have completely vanished, but then he’d turn around and they’d be walking toward him, as if they’d been there all along.
Newlyweds, he reasoned, could disappear whenever they liked without justifying their whereabouts.
Zane whistled and Tuffy raced over to him, an always faithful companion. He reached down and gave the dog a playful thump then fed him a few scraps of meat left over from lunch.
The dog gobbled them down and gave him a look that was pure adoration. “Now, if I could get Billie to look at me like that, we’d be in business.”
Tuffy woofed in agreement.
Although he hadn’t ridden a horse in more than a year, Zane had no trouble saddling the blaze-faced chestnut gelding and leading him out of the barn. When he’d asked Petey the horse’s name, he’d told him Ryatt always called the horse Big Red. Not a fancy name, but fitting since the horse stood a little more than seventeen hands high and had a broad chest and rump.
Zane swung into the saddle, one he’d had shipped from Texas, and released a sigh of contentment. This was one of the things he’d dearly missed when he was in the military — the ability to ride whenever the mood struck him.
The creak of the saddle, the smell of leather mingling with that of the horse, were familiar, comforting scents from his childhood.
As he rode away from the barn, he wondered if Billie knew how to ride. Rock had taught Miko, but, as Petey said, she was a natural at it. Then again, he was sure Miko could master anything she set her mind to.
Billie was the same in that respect, yet different, too. She’d grown up without the family support Miko had, but both women were strong and determined.
Zane’s thoughts conjured up an image of sitting on a front porch years into the future. He and Rock both had gray in their hair as they laughed together, while Miko and Billie looked on with indulgent smiles.
In the perfect world of his dreams, Billie would agree to marry him, they’d have a long happy life together, and they’d live somewhere close to Rock and Miko so their kids could grow up as friends.
How had he gone from flying planes that dropped bombs on the enemy to wanting to bounce grandkids on his knee?
Zane shook his head, amused with his runaway thoughts. He better slow that train down since the only time he’d even told Billie he loved her was when she was so sick, he didn’t think she remembered him saying it.
Their telephone conversations were lighthearted and brief, just enough to make him long to be with her. Before he got down on one knee and proposed, he knew they n
eeded to discuss plans for the future and he sure didn’t want to ask that all-important question while he was still wearing his sunglasses.
His eyesight continued to improve, but Zane doubted he’d ever see objects clearly in the distance again. Even if he did regain one hundred percent of his eyesight, he’d never be allowed to fly. That didn’t mean he couldn’t continue serving his country, though. The months he’d spent training pilots had taught him there were many ways to do his part, even if it wasn’t as a pilot.
He rode down a path and along a fence that seemed to encircle the entire hillside. He’d built enough fences during his days on the ranch to know what a laborious project that would have been. The fence seemed to go on for miles and miles. Had Miko’s grandfather built it? Her great-grandfather? He’d have to remember to ask her.
Tuffy barked and chased after a bird that darted up in front of them.
Zane grinned and watched the dog run in hopeless pursuit of something he’d never catch.
Was that him chasing after Billie? Would he catch her? Would she let him? Did she want him to? Questions buzzed around in his thoughts like flies at a forgotten picnic until he took a deep breath, and another, in an effort to calm the tumult in his mind.
Tuffy growled and his bark changed, as though something upset him. Zane reined the horse around at the precise moment the loud pop of a rifle echoed off the hill. A scorching burst of pain exploded in his left arm. He didn’t have to guess who’d shot him — with unwavering clarity he knew.
“You never were a good shot, Floyd,” Zane yelled. His voice carried a hefty measure of disdain and more than a bit of frustration. He glanced at the blood trickling down his arm from where the bullet grazed him, and shook his head. “Before you try to kill me, you might want to listen to what I have to say.” He scanned the area, but everything in the distance appeared blurry. His brother didn’t need to know that, though. He caught a glimpse of something yellow, and knew it was Tuffy, no doubt sniffing out Floyd.
Zane lifted his right hand and pointed that direction. “Quit hiding behind that tree and come out here.”
Dream of Her Heart Page 26
