“Which explains how you know about him,” Marcie said, referring to Tate’s contact at the clinic. His fiancee was the clinic’s nurse.
He shrugged. “I’m not telling you anything confidential. Faith told me he’d checked in there, brought medical records. Plans to stay in town for a while anyway. You ever see him at the hospital?”
Allie slowly shook her head. “I don’t place the name. I usually visit with the same guys each time and he’s not one of them.”
Allie had started visiting the veteran’s hospital when one of the local boys had been sent there after receiving injuries in Iraq. She’d continued after Connor was released, since there were so many men there who didn’t have family who could visit. Her once a week visits were special and she liked knowing she brought a change to the routine for those men who had put their lives on the line.
“Maybe I’ll take him some cookies,” she murmured, wondering if she’d recognize him when she saw him up close. There were always men in the community room that didn’t join her group.
“Take chocolate chip cookies, they’re my favorite,” Tate murmured. “I love the ones Faith makes.”
“You love anything Faith makes,” Marcie said. “How’s her dog doing?”
“Really well. She’s picked up obedience training as if she was made for it. She can go for her walks without being on a leash, and I don’t worry about her dragging Faith along.”
The three of them chatted, until Marcie had to go answer a question another diner had and Tate finished his coffee and said he had to be going.
Once she was finished eating, Allie headed for the grocery store. Mid-afternoon was usually a quiet time to shop. She had an arrangement with the local store to have her groceries delivered once she purchased them. Young Josh Diggs was the kid who usually brought them. He was always careful with eggs and other fragile items, which she appreciated.
She hung her cane on the cart and used the handle to help her balance. Slowly she walked up one aisle and down the other putting items in the cart, trying to plan a few meals in her mind so she could get what she needed ahead of time.
Rounding the corner, she almost bumped into another cart.
“Oh, sorry.” She looked up and into the deepest blue eyes she’d ever seen. She blinked. That wasn’t quite right. She’d seen these eyes before–at the VA hospital.
“Oh, it’s you. You’re out,” she said in surprise.
The man nodded, turning his head slightly. “You make it sound as if I escaped from prison.”
Allie laughed. “Hardly. It’s wonderful they released you. What are you doing here in Rocky Point?”
He hesitated a moment, then said, “I’ve rented a place. I’ll finish recuperating here. It’s close enough I can get to the hospital if I need to, yet away from Portland. Quiet. Peaceful.”
“You’re not from around here are you? I thought I knew of all the men from town who were in the military.”
“No. I’m not from around here.”
Allie waited a moment, but he wasn’t more forthcoming. “I’m Allie Turner,” she said offering her hand.
Again he hesitated, then took hers in his left hand. “Jack Donner.”
She couldn’t help looking at his right hand, resting on the handle of the cart. Racking her brain to remember what she knew about this man, she came up with virtually nothing. She’d seen him in the large community television room at the hospital when she’d visited the men she considered her regulars. Actually, she’d first noticed Jack several months ago. At that time he’d been in a wheelchair, sitting at a table of four, playing cards, a scowl on his face. She also remembered seeing him at a table a month ago–no wheelchair, same scowl. She hadn’t realized how tall he was. There were scars showing along his right cheek and neck. Had his arm been injured so badly he couldn’t shake hands?
“Welcome to Rocky Point.”
“Thanks.”
She waited a moment but he didn’t say another word.
“Well, I’m in the phone book, so give me a call if you need anything,” she said brightly. He probably had a whole slew of relatives and friends to look out for him. Still, she didn’t see anyone with him today. Maybe he cherished his independence as much as she did.
She knew better than most how cloying and smothering concern could be while struggling to regain as much of a normal life as possible.
Jack nodded.
Allie pushed her cart around his, searching for the next item on her mental list, resisting the temptation to turn around to see him again.
She was almost at the end of the aisle when she gave in and looked over her shoulder. He was reading the label of a box. She should have done more. Said something more. Maybe invited him to coffee or something. Maybe she would take him those cookies she talked about as a welcome to Rocky Point. Watching for him as she completed her shopping she was disappointed she didn’t see him again. He must have been going through the store in the opposite direction from her.
She arranged for Josh to deliver her groceries and started for home. She included a bag of chocolate chips. Then she debated. It was only being neighborly. Was it too pushy? He hadn’t seemed happy to see her. Yet he was a stranger in town. It would be friendly. Rocky Point was a friendly town. She’d do it.
Maybe.
He probably had tons of friends and relatives around.
It wouldn’t hurt to show some hospitality.
If he wasn’t from around here, why had he come to Rocky Point to recuperate? He could have found a place closer to the hospital if he needed continued care from the VA.
She wasn’t home ten minutes before Josh knocked on the door.
“Afternoon, Allie,” he said, entering her house with a bag in each arm.
“Hi, Josh. Thanks for bringing my stuff,” she said, opening the door wide and letting him go right to the kitchen and put the bags on one of the counters.
“Be right back with the rest,” he said. When he deposited the last of the bags of groceries, he turned to her.
“Remember me telling you about getting on Zack Kincaid’s driving program?”
“I do. How’s that going?” Josh had shared his excitement at taking driving lessons from a noted Grand Prix driver like Zack Kincaid, when Zack had decided to open a course for teens in a nearby town.
“Really good! The fact is on Saturday, we’re having like an open house. To show off what’s been done for the track, and to show off some of what we’re learning. Zack won’t let us race around the track, but he’ll be talking to everyone about what we plan. Anyway, I wondered if you wanted to come to see it. My mom said she could give you a ride.”
“I’d love to. I’ll bring my camera and try to get some good pictures.”
Josh nodded. “My mom said she could come by around nine.”
“I’ll be ready.”
Allie put away her groceries, thinking about Josh and the excitement the boys in town evidenced at the new driving track. Zack Kincaid was a world-renowned race car winner and was settling in Rocky Point. He and Marcie would be married later in the year. In the meantime, he’d arranged for an old factory’s parking lot to be leased to him and he was setting up a driving school. Allie knew the Sheriff had been part of the group making recommendations in favor of the project. Good school work was required of all who wanted to be part of the new start up. Josh updated her each time he delivered her groceries. To the teens in town, this was an amazing opportunity.
She’d take her camera and see if she could capture some action shots. Maybe do a short article for the local paper to let others in town know how the endeavor was going. Planning for Saturday, she put away the groceries and then took out the ingredients for cookies.
* * *
Jack picked up the thin phone book. There couldn’t be more than seventy pages in the entire thing. He shook his head. He didn’t know towns like this really existed. At least not before he’d started listening to Allie when she’d visited the VA hospital.
He found Allie’s number in the directory as she’d said. He started to dial, then replaced the receiver. What was he going to say? She was probably being polite in the store–telling him her name was in the book and call if he needed anything.
He didn’t need anything.
Well, he’d like his life back as it had been. But that was never going to happen.
So why was he thinking of calling her? He didn’t go out if he could help it. Grocery shopping had been the limit of his excursions since he’d arrived in Rocky Point last week. That and the clinic.
He hated the way people stared at the scars. And the shock if he didn’t shake hands like normal men. Hated not being able to hear clearly like before. Or have the stamina or energy to not need a nap every day. Sometimes he felt like a little kid–it was not a feeling he relished.
Too bad Rocky Point was too small for a Starbucks. That would be easier. Grab a cup, find a table–his mind went blank. Even if she joined him for a cup of joe, what would they talk about?
Maybe he wouldn’t have to say much. When he’d seen her at the VA hospital, he’d watch her tell the men stories about Rocky Point. Allie's love for her town and neighbors always sounded like a dream. One he secretly yearned for. Only soldiers didn’t yearn for things–except keep their men safe and defeat the enemy.
Now that he was here, he was as isolated as he had been in the hospital. If he ever wanted part of the dream life she spoke about, he had to move forward. Think of it as a military campaign, he tried to tell himself. Study, plan, infiltrate.
For a moment he closed his eyes, seeing himself back at camp with his men. Complaining about the heat and the sand and the bugs. Counting the days until the deployment was over and they’d head back to the States. He knew where he stood with soldiers. Not so much with civilians. He’d gone into the Army after high school graduation. For twelve years it had been his life. One he’d liked.
What could he say to Allie if he called her? What would she say if he asked her out for coffee? One reason he wanted to be in Rocky Point was to find the life she talked about, if it was even there. Hiding in the house wouldn’t get him far. Soldiers did things whether they were scared or not–always moving forward. Holding that thought, he lifted the receiver and dialed before he could change his mind.
The phone rang. And rang. He was about to hang up when she answered, breathlessly.
“Hi, it’s Jack Donner.”
“Oh, hi. I had to run for the phone. I was in the back working. I really should get a phone back there, or remember to take this one with me.”
Great, he was interrupting her. “I can call back,” he offered.
“It’s okay. Nothing critical. I’m working on some copies of photos I took this morning. Trying different crops to see which is the most dramatic.”
“You’re a photographer?” Funny, he’d pictured her as a writer. She had a way with words when talking about her neighbors and friends that painted a picture in his mind that wouldn’t let go. Now he remembered he’d seen some sort of case slung over her shoulder that morning. Had she been taking pictures at the crack of dawn?
“I am. A photographer of everything from weddings, to school events, to annual reports,” she replied.
“Was that why you were on the cliffs this morning?” he asked.
“That was me. I went down the rocks a short distance to be closer to the horizon for the shot–I was looking for the green flash for a back cover of an annual report for SeaRovers Inc.”
“Green flash?” He frowned. What was a green flash?
Allie explained and while he listened, Jack could picture her animation. She moved her hands when she talked, did she know that? Her face lit up and seemed to sparkle. Even through the phone he could hear her enthusiasm. She seemed to face life like that all the time.
“Isn’t it early for an annual report?” he asked when she ran down. He didn’t know much about business, but wasn’t December the end of the year and time for the annual report after that?
“That’s the cool thing about this company; they get all their ducks in a row early. They don’t have the year-end financial reports, of course. That’s months away. But when they do, they’ll be ready to go. I wish some of my other clients would do things before the last minute.”
“Maybe you should tell them.”
She laughed. “Yeah. They’re the clients, they’re always right. How long are you going to be in Rocky Point? How did you even hear about the Stafford place? It’s a bit off the beaten path, you know. What brought you here?”
He had no plans. But he wouldn’t tell her that.
“I asked for a quiet place. The realtor showed me this one. It’s not expensive.”
“I should hope not the condition it’s in.”
“What’s wrong with it? I was assured the roof doesn’t leak. It’s got a great view and no noisy neighbors.”
“So what are you doing here in town?”
Nothing. He gazed out the window at the sea. “Recuperating, I said that.”
Someone like Allie wouldn’t want to know the doctors thought he was about as right as he was going to get. They had a few follow up visits scheduled, but for the most part, he was done. The only recuperating he’d be doing was trying to get some more muscle strength in his right hand and arm. He hadn’t a single plan for finding some kind of work. Who wanted a half deaf, half incapacitated man to do anything? All he knew was the military. He wasn’t sure he could make the transition to civilian life.
“I’m on disability,” he said at last. He hated the fact, and hated having to say it. But there was nothing more to be done until he’d had time for the muscles to heal and strengthen. Then the doctors would be able to assess if he was fit for some kind of work, or destined to be a semi invalid the rest of his life.
Sometimes he wondered why the IED hadn’t finished the job.
“Injured in Iraq?” The soft sympathy in her voice touched him. He frowned. He’d survived. Others hadn’t. She should save her sympathy for them and their families.
“Afghanistan.”
“Well, you must be on the road to recovery for the hospital to discharge you,” she said brightly.
Did she always have such a rosy view of things? He hesitated. It was one of the things that appealed to him. Allie saw life as a delight. He saw it as something to slog through.
“They can’t do any more for me, so they kicked me out,” he said, summing up what he felt.
She laughed. Jack almost smiled. Her laughter was infectious. He remembered that from when he’d listened to her at the hospital. It had interrupted the card game. The others had looked at her, taking in her pretty curly auburn hair, the green eyes that sparkled clear across the room. One of the men had wondered aloud what she was laughing over. He’d always wondered himself.
“You have someone you visit at the VA?” he asked. Was it a boyfriend? Relative?
“I visit several men—Tom McGurk, Paul Williams and Solly Cameretti.”
“They from Rocky Point?” he asked. He knew Solly slightly. And he was from Brooklyn.
“Nope. I met them when I volunteered to visit every week—I asked for men who didn’t have relatives nearby.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Never mind. It’s not my business. Why choose those who don’t have relatives nearby?” he contradicted himself in one sentence. He didn’t have relatives at all, much less nearby. What if she’d started visiting him? He hadn’t asked for anything; didn’t want pity or charity. He’d learned to stand on his own years ago. No ties, no baggage.
But he wanted to hear her talk, hear her laugh. He liked the fact someone in the world was so optimistic and happy.
“We had a young boy from town die in Iraq. We all took it hard. Then another—Conner--was wounded and sent to the VA hospital for recovery. He goes to my church, so I went up to visit. I began to wonder about those who are there when family and friends are too far away to visit. When I
talked to the pastor at my church, he suggested asking at the hospital if there was any need. So I found out they liked visitors. It’s boring to be stuck in hospital for weeks and months on end. So I started about three years ago.”
He remembered her awkward gait as she walked along the road. She’d had something cause that limp. Had she been months in hospital? Days when she thought she might not walk again? Nights to get through when the pain kept her awake?
“Mmm.” Calling had been a mistake. He had nothing left to say. How could he get out of this without seeming like an idiot?
“I saw you there,” she said easily.
He knew that from her comment at the store. But it still surprised him that she’d noticed him. He’d never spoken to her before today.
“I was there five months.”
“And now you’re out. And here in town.” She was silent a moment and he was about to say goodbye when she said,
“How about some chocolate chip cookies. I made some. The last batch is still warm.”
“What?”
“I know where you live. I could zip over there with a plate. You can tell me about why you chose to move here, and I’ll tell you all I know about Rocky Point. You have chairs on the porch, right? It’s still warm enough to sit outside. I love Indian summer. Cold at night, warm in the day.”
Two things registered simultaneously—he didn’t have to go out in public and she wanted to see him.
“I like chocolate chip cookies,” Jack said. He remembered when men in his platoon received care packages from home. Sometimes cookies were included and they shared.
He’d wanted to come to Rocky Point because of her. Now he wondered if that had been a smart move. He wasn’t ready to interact with others. He might never be ready. One reason this house had suited him was its isolation. He didn’t have any near neighbors. Yet here she was, inviting herself over.
“Me, too. So you’re there alone? Or should I bring more than a couple of dozen?”
Who else would be here with him? He had no family. All his friends were in the military. Yes, he was here in Rocky Point on his own. And likely to remain that way if he didn’t make an effort to start getting to know people.
Destination Romance Page 49