“Jim and Susan Laroux from Gales Creek. I remember you always had those big cinnamon cookies for sale and would give me one when we’d come in. I’m Rock.”
Bill slapped the counter with a meaty hand and grinned. “Well, sure, now that you say it, you do resemble your dad. My condolence on his and your mother’s passing. Didn’t you go off to fly planes or some such thing?”
“I did. I took a little shrapnel in my side and arm and they sent me home.” Rock scooted the basket across the counter, unwilling to discuss his injuries or the disastrous end to his career.
“I’m sorry to hear that, son. Are you doing okay now?” Bill tugged the basket closer and peered inside.
“Yes, sir. I’m getting better every day. Right now, I’m staying at a farm that has an excess of milk and eggs. Would you be interested in purchasing any?”
The store owner removed the waxed paper from the butter, admiring the rich, creamy appearance as well as the star stamped into the top of it. “Mind if I take a taste?” he asked, reaching beneath the counter and pulling out a package of crackers.
“Help yourself,” Rock said. He watched as the man took a knife and shaved the slightest curl of butter from the bottom of the neatly formed square.
Mr. Ross spread it on the cracker and took a bite. A contented smile wreathed his face. “That is some good butter. If the buttermilk came from it, I won’t need to taste it.” Bill lifted the jar of milk and eggs from the basket. “I’ll take whatever you bring.”
Rock grinned. “I’ve got eight dozen eggs, nine quarts of buttermilk, and thirteen pounds of butter.”
The store owner’s eyes widened before he scurried around the counter. “I’ll take it all!”
After he helped carry in the milk, butter, and eggs, Bill wrote out a receipt and handed it to Rock. “Anytime you have more, just bring it in. I could use cream, too, if you have extra to spare.”
“I’ll get on a weekly schedule.” Surprised by the amount of money he pocketed, Rock pointed to a cooler of soda near the cash register. “Is Coca-Cola still a nickel?”
“It sure is.” Bill opened the cooler and removed a bottle, popped off the cap, and handed the beverage to Rock. “That’s on me. It’s sure good to see you, Rock. Thank you for your service to our country.”
“That was my pleasure, sir.” Rock took a drink from the frosty bottle in his hand and let the sweet, bubbly liquid slide with cooling refreshment down his throat. “Thank you for purchasing our butter and eggs, and for the Coca-Cola.”
“Anytime, son. If my wife was here instead of visiting our daughter in Seattle, I’d have some of those cookies you like so well.”
“Maybe next time I come.” Rock opened the door and started to step out, then turned back. “How late is your store open, Mr. Ross?”
“I usually leave the door unlocked until six.”
Rock tipped his head and smiled. “Thanks again, sir.”
He left and drove to the office of the attorney who had helped him settle things after his father passed away. Mr. Collier was a school chum of his father and had been kind to Rock in the past.
An hour later, he left the man’s office and drove to the bank. Pleased by the interest gained in the account that had remained untouched since he’d joined the Army, he made a withdrawal and left with a checkbook in his pocket.
He made one more stop, then drove to the hospital in Portland, wondering if he’d run into Nurse Brighton. Part of him hoped he would. While he was in the hospital, he’d had such a crush on the lovely, feisty nurse. With his health nearly restored and a different outlook on life, he questioned if the infatuation stemmed from the care she provided, or if he’d genuinely been fascinated by her.
Inside, he walked up the stairs to the floor where he’d felt imprisoned after he returned from Trinidad.
Several familiar faces peered at him from the nurse’s station, but none recognized him until he asked if ol’ Horrid Homer was on duty.
“Captain Laroux? Is that you?” A nurse with an engaging smile and kind eyes stood and stepped around the desk. “Gee, we weren’t sure what to think when you disappeared. What in the world did you do? Find some magic elixir?”
“Something like that,” he said, grinning as the women ogled him. He handed the nurse standing closest to him a big box of fancy chocolates. “I wanted to thank you all for taking such good care of me while I was here.”
“Our pleasure, honey,” one of the cheekier nurses said, nudging her coworker to open the box.
“I don’t suppose I could get in to see Doctor Ridley?” Rock asked. The nurses would make sure he saw the doctor, even if he hadn’t asked.
“Go on down to his office, Captain. I saw him head that way a few minutes ago,” the nurse with the kind eyes offered encouragingly. “We’re pleased to see you looking so fit.”
“And handsome,” the cheeky one added.
Rock flashed a boyish smile that made them all sigh dreamily, then sauntered down the hall to the doctor’s office.
He stood outside the door and listened, making sure the doctor wasn’t with someone before tapping on the door frame and stepping inside.
“May I help you?” Doctor Ridley rose from the chair behind his desk and gave Rock a curious glance.
“I don’t know, Doc. Last time we spoke you promised I’d be dead by now.” Rock stepped across the room and grinned as the doctor’s mouth fell open and he gaped at him.
“Rock Laroux? How in the dickens did you go from having one foot in the grave to being a strapping specimen of health in such a short time?”
“Good food and fresh air,” Rock replied, taking a seat in the chair the doctor indicated. “Seriously, Doc, I wanted to get your stamp of approval on my self-prescribed regimen to staying alive.”
“By all means, whatever it is you’re doing, keep doing it.” The doctor took his pulse, looked down his throat, and listened to him take several deep breaths, then sat back with a satisfied smile. “You had me plenty worried when you up and left. I appreciated the note, but still, you shouldn’t have just walked yourself out of here.”
“I know, Doc, but I wasn’t ready to die and it didn’t seem there were any other options if I stayed here. Caught in the rain that night, I almost died from exposure to the elements in my weakened state, but I received excellent care. Once I bounced back from that, I made steady improvement.”
“I can see that, son. You have color back in your face, your lungs are clear, and your eyes are bright. How’s your stomach?” The doctor jotted notes on a pad to add to Rock’s file.
“Great. I’ve been on a steady diet of milk straight from the source, sweet grape juice, sun-ripened strawberries, eggs right from the roost and fried in freshly churned butter, and —”
The doctor held up his hand to stop him. “You’re making my stomach growl. Will you join me for lunch in the cafeteria? You can tell me where you’ve been and what you plan to do with yourself.”
“I’d like that,” Rock said, rising to his feet.
The doctor stopped by an examination room and checked the wounds on Rock’s side, delighted to see the scars had thickened and slightly faded in color. “Any improvement in your eyesight?” he asked, shining a light in Rock’s eyes.
“Yes, sir. I can see as well as I did before my injuries.” Rock looked straight ahead without blinking.
“Excellent.” Doctor Ridley lifted Rock’s left arm, poking around the scar and testing his flexibility. “Your mobility appears to be improving.”
“Yes, sir. I’ve been milking a cow twice a day. I think that has helped more than anything.” Rock lifted a pen in his fingers and held it long enough to draw a line down a sheet of paper. The simple action was far more than he’d been able to do the last time the doctor had checked him over.
After lunch, the two men shook hands in the hospital lobby. “I have no explanation for the complete change in your health, Rock. Maybe you experienced a reaction to something here at the hospital. It c
ould have been an allergy to medication or something along those lines. We’ll probably never know for sure. Regardless, you seem to be in great health. Come back in three months for a checkup,” the doctor ordered. “If you don’t, I’ll drive out to that produce stand to find you.”
“Drive out anyway. I’d be happy to show you the place.” Rock grinned and shoved his hands in his pockets. “You won’t ever taste finer strawberries than are grown there.”
“I might just take you up on that, Rock. Take care and have a good summer.” The doctor waved as Rock pushed open the doors and stepped outside.
Rock jogged down the steps and turned to make his way to his parked car, running into Nurse Brighton.
“Pardon me,” he said, tipping his hat with a smile. His thorough perusal began at the smart little hat on her golden head and ended at the open toes of her high-heeled shoes. “You look fetching today, Nurse Brighton.”
Her gaze narrowed as she stared at him. Recognition arrived with an excited squeal and she threw her arms around him. “Good golly, Captain Laroux! I was sure you’d passed on to glory after you ran away.”
Rock returned her hug, then released her, taking a step back. “I didn’t run away, I merely left without asking Doc’s permission.”
“Well, I’m glad you did. I never expected to see you looking like this,” she said, observing him from the top of his head to his polished shoes. “It’s good to see you, Rock.”
“You, too, Nurse Brighton,” Rock said. When he’d been sick, he’d often called her Billie. Today, though, he hesitated to be too friendly with her. She was even prettier than he remembered, but she no longer claimed his interest. His thoughts drifted to Miko with her gleaming black hair and beautiful dark eyes.
Over his infatuation with the perky little nurse, he no longer gazed at her like a lovesick pup. Rock squeezed her hand and gave her cheek a quick kiss. “Thank you for taking such good care of me while I was here. I appreciate everything you did.”
Her posture stiffened. “It was all part of the job, Captain.” Uncomfortable, she backed toward the hospital. “I’m truly happy to see you well. Take care of yourself.”
“You, too, Nurse Brighton.”
She spun on her heel, rushing up the steps and inside the hospital. Absolved, he watched her go before making his way to the car.
Chapter Ten
With a fortifying breath, Rock drove to the Pacific International Livestock and Exposition Center. Recently renamed the Portland Assembly Center, the building housed Japanese Americans evacuated from their homes in the area.
Rock had no idea what to expect or if he’d even be allowed inside. He lifted the basket of strawberries Miko had sent for her family from the backseat, shut the car door, and surveyed the barbed-wire fence surrounding the buildings in front of him.
Purposeful strides carried him to the gate, where a guard waited.
“Afternoon,” Rock said, smiling as he approached the young man.
“Afternoon.” The guard glared at Rock. “What do you need?”
“I’d like to visit the Shig Yamada family. He and his wife are here with his daughter, son-in-law, and grandson.” Rock forced his posture to remain relaxed, his smile entreating.
“What’s the son-in-law’s name?” The guard studied the cloth-covered basket Rock held in his hand.
“Jack Nishimura. His wife is Margaret and their son is Tommy.”
Speculatively, the guard eyed him. “And you’re a friend of the family?”
“Mr. Yamada has known me since I was just a sprout.” Rock kept his voice friendly. “My father used to do business with him.”
“What about you? Did you do business with him?”
Rock shook his head. “If I’d been in the area the past few years, I would have.”
The guard’s gaze narrowed. “Where’ve you been? Why do you care about visiting them now?”
“I served the United States Army Air Force in Trinidad until a few months ago, when my plane crashed and I was sent home to recover. I’ve only been out of the hospital a few weeks.” Rock hadn’t planned to mention his military service, but if it would help get him in to see Miko’s family, he’d shout it from the rooftops.
The guard stood a little straighter. “What’s your name, sir?”
“Captain Rock Laroux of the First Reconnaissance Squadron.”
Respect filled the guard’s expression. “And you’re here as a friend?”
“That’s right,” Rock said. He removed the cloth covering the basket of strawberries and held the fruit out to the guard. The young man looked like he’d love to taste the berries. Instead, he carefully moved the berries around in the basket, making sure no contraband hid in the bottom.
“I’ll have someone get them.” Hastily, the guard motioned to a sentry who jogged over, then disappeared inside a large building Rock assumed housed the detainees. The guard pointed several yards away from the gate to a picnic table in the shade of the building. “You may meet with them at that table, but first, I need to check your pockets, sir.”
“Certainly.” Rock emptied his pockets on the table the guard indicated.
The soldier hardly gave more than a passing glance to the contents, made note in a log of Rock’s name and the date and time, then had Rock sign it before he allowed him entry inside.
Rock gathered his belongings, stuffed them into his pockets, picked up the basket of berries, and stepped through the opened gateway.
The guard shut it behind him. “Have a seat, Captain. They’ll be out soon.”
“Thank you,” Rock said. He ambled over to the table. Nervous, he sat down on the bench and waited. Sweat trickled down his back as the sunshine warmed the late spring afternoon. His right foot jiggled impatiently as he leaned back, resting both elbows on the table behind him.
Finally, the door to the building opened and Miko’s family emerged, following the sentry. Uncertainty flickered in their eyes, but pride marked each footstep.
Rock stood in a rush and removed his hat, setting it on the table.
The guard strode over and pointed to Shig Yamada. “Do you know this man?”
The elderly man stared at Rock, visibly searching his memories for recognition. A smile broke out across his weathered face. “Mr. Laroux, it’s been a while.”
“It certainly has, sir.” Rock grinned and held out his hand to Shig. Miko’s grandfather took it in his and shook it with enthusiasm. Rock shook hands with Jack and Tommy, politely tipped his head to the two women, and motioned for them to join him at the picnic table.
The guard returned to his post, but the sentry hovered ten feet away, not attempting to disguise his interest in their conversation.
“I don’t think all of you have met Captain Rock Laroux. His dad used to tell me about all the exotic places he was stationed,” Shig said, thumping Rock on the back as he settled onto the bench next to him. “You’re the spitting image of your father. I was very sorry to hear of his passing. He still stopped by every summer to purchase strawberries and peaches, even after your mother departed.”
“He used to write me letters, tormenting me with descriptions of the delicious produce he purchased at your stand while I was stuck eating Army rations.” Rock smiled at the old man. “There’s nothing quite like the taste of the strawberries grown at your farm.” He lifted the cloth-covered basket and watched as Miko’s family gazed rapturously at the strawberries. The sweet, slightly tangy scent of the fruit filled the air.
Tommy Nishimura clapped his hands together. “Hot diggety! Fresh berries!”
Rock grinned. “Help yourself.”
They all took a berry and ate it slowly, relishing the taste.
“These taste just like our berries,” Shig said, taking another one and popping it in his mouth.
“That’s because they are.”
Five sets of eyes moved from the basket of berries to Rock, staring at him in question.
“To make a long story short, my doctor sentenced
me to die and I decided I wasn’t quite ready to give up. I walked out of the hospital and found myself staggering down a country road on a cold rainy night. Just when I thought I couldn’t go any farther, I looked up and saw your farm. I made my way to the front door, but it was locked. Weak and half out of my mind, I stumbled to the back step and passed out. The next thing I knew, I was in a warm soft bed, feeling better than I had for a long time. A young woman named Kami Jane took me in and nursed me back to health. I owe her my life.”
When Miko told him to be sure to refer to her as Kami Jane around her family, he wondered why she chose that name. As they all smiled in understanding, he relaxed a little.
Miko’s father looked across the table with a hopeful expression. “How is Kami Jane? Is she at the farm?”
“She is at the farm. In fact, she arrived there shortly after I did that stormy night. Because of her kindness, she wasn’t able to keep an appointment to meet with some people very precious to her, and she sends her regrets.” Rock pulled the letter from Miko from his pocket and handed it to her father.
He read it once, read it again, and then handed it to his wife. Tommy leaned over her shoulder to read it before they passed it on to Miko’s grandparents.
Rock had no idea what she’d written in the letter. By the tears her mother and grandmother wiped from their eyes, whatever she penned must have been heartfelt. He watched as Jack Nishimura took hold of his emotions and tamped them down before speaking.
“Thank you, Captain Laroux,” Jack said, nodding to Rock. “Kami Jane is quite dear to our family. We are pleased beyond words to be assured she is well. She mentioned in the letter your interest in purchasing the farm. Is there a particular reason you’d like to buy it?”
“It’s a wonderful place, one that should be maintained, not changed. I happened to be there when a man stopped by, planning to take it. Just walk in and take it. I informed him the only way he’d do that was over my dead body. After a few disparaging words, he left with a promise to return and see if I have the deed in my possession. If not, he has every intention of taking over the property.”
Garden of Her Heart (Hearts of the War Book 1) Page 10
