But it’s me who owes you, and many other soldiers, an apology.
Lil searched Walt’s hopeful face. She couldn’t tell him that now. “As I told you before, no apology was necessary. I’m not upset with you.” She smiled. “I promise I’ll try harder to fight the melancholy.” Lil wiggled her fingers free. “Thank you for this. It’s about the nicest thing anyone has done for me in years.”
Pride straightened Walt’s stance as happiness beamed from every crinkle of his handsome face.
“I’ll have to let you pour the coffee.”
Lil walked over to the pot and lifted it from the heating element. She narrowed her eyes, the nurse in her overtaking the woman.
“How did you manage this with your walker?”
“I filled the pot with water and scooted it across the counter. Then I leaned against the counter for balance while pouring the water into the coffeemaker.”
Lil poured the steaming liquid into the fragile china cups. “Where did these dishes come from?”
“I keep them in the back of that cupboard.” Walt pointed to the metal hanging cabinet next to his bedroom door. “They were my mother’s. I don’t have the entire set, just a few pieces. The quilt I saw in your camper the other day reminded me of them. I thought if you had a quilt with lilacs on them, maybe you’d like the china cups, too.”
“I do. They’re lovely.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t seen them while rummaging through my cabinets.”
Lil furrowed her brows. “What?”
Walt chuckled. “Put the coffeepot back and let’s sit down.”
When Lil turned from returning the pot to the coffeemaker, Walt stood with one hand on the walker and the other on her chair back. He’d taken his last pain pill two days ago. Lil couldn’t remember the last time he winced while walking or sitting. He was regaining his stamina if he could pull a snack like this together. Lil smiled, confident he’d receive a good report and not need her daily nursing skills.
As soon as she slipped onto her chair, Walt removed his hand and sat down, forcing out a grunt of relief.
Lil bit into a flaky cookie. The dark chocolate center oozed out its bitter sweetness as she chewed.
Walt pushed her sewing machine to the farthest end of the table, giving him more elbow room.
“So what made you decide on a quilt for a gift? Seems to me to be quite an undertaking.”
Lil sipped her coffee to clear her palate. “Well,” she said, sheepishness crawling through her, “I sort of owe her one.”
Walt’s forehead wrinkled in confusion.
“When I bought my new fifth wheel, I took my sister’s grandsons camping at that Kampgrounds of America south of here just before the Iowa border.”
“I know that KOA.”
“Well, we decided to go to a nearby nature preserve for a picnic and hike. Even though it was late spring, my great-nephew brought a quilt along. Not just any quilt, but one made for Lily by our grandmother. When we were ten, our grandmother made us each a quilt that had something to do with our names. My sister’s quilt was a Lily of the Field block. Lily loves her name and she loved that quilt. One time when Mom laundered it, some fabric caught in the wringer of her washer. You remember those old wringer washers?”
Walt nodded.
“Lily cried for days because it ripped a block. Anyway, it was in my pickup and we needed a tablecloth, so we used it. Out of nowhere a severe storm blew up. We gathered our gear as fast as we could so we could get back to the KOA shelter. I thought the boys had the quilt and they thought that I had it.” Lil sighed. “The next day when we went back, there was a fallen tree on the shelter house and no quilt to be seen anywhere.”
“Maybe it blew down a path.”
“We thought so, too. Several times we went back and searched for that quilt, thinking it may have blown into a shrub or someone might have turned it into the lost and found at the visitor center. But we never found it.”
“Was she upset?”
“Just a little bit.” Lil pulled out the words as she outstretched her arms as far as they’d go. “I’m hoping this makes up for it.” Lil noticed Walt’s empty cup. “Need a refill?”
Walt nodded.
Lil retrieved the pot, and on her way back to the table, outside movement caught her eye. It was the pickup that drove past earlier.
“Looks like you’ve got company.”
Walt kept his knees together and turned in the chair to peek through the window, but the blinds blocked his view.
“That truck drove slowly by earlier. I figured it was a friend of yours wondering if you were home.”
Standing up, Walt used the chair back for security and walked a step to reach the window. Using two fingers he parted the miniblinds for a better view.
“It’s Bill Grant. He belongs to the VFW and is always trying to get me to be more active. I suppose this has something to do with the Veterans Day celebration.” Walt started for the door.
Lil’s loud exaggerated clearing of her throat stopped Walt in his tracks.
As she hurried to bring his walker to him, her layers of white curls bounced with each step, inviting his fingers to smooth the wisps back from her face.
“Sorry, but until the doctor says you don’t need to use this, you need to use this.”
Walt frowned. He’d done just fine using the counter as support when he set the china on the table. But he grasped the walker’s handles and started for the door. Walt opened the door midknock. Crisp autumn air with just a hint of winter kissed his cheeks.
“Walt, I need to talk to you.” Bill removed his Farmers’ Co-op cap.
“Is it about Veterans Day?”
Bill’s watery eyes met his as he gave his head a small shake.
“Come in and sit down.” Walt led the way to the table, while Lil closed the door.
“This is my nurse and friend, Lil Hayes.” Why had he emphasized the word friend like that? True, he was growing accustomed to her snooping and insistence that he eat healthy meals. Their opposing opinions ignited lively conversations over the walkie-talkies. He’d stopped counting the days and hours he thought it’d take for him to heal and be rid of her, but were they really friends?
“Nice to meet you.”
When Lil smiled warmly at Bill, a twinge of jealously shot through Walt. He’d been trying for days to coax a smile like that out of her. He ran his hand up and down the slick fabric of his athletic pants as he fought the urge to make a fist. Maybe friend wasn’t the right descriptive term.
“Likewise.” Bill’s voice was polite but he remained somber.
“Could I get you a cup of coffee?”
“No, thank you.” Bill worried the bill of his cap before placing it back on his head, then removing it again and running his hand over his bald head. “Sam Garrett has passed away.”
Walt reached out and placed his hand on Bill’s forearm. “I’m sorry to hear that, Bill.”
Blinking rapidly, Bill looked at Walt. “He was my best friend.” Bill’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat hard. “I know he’s in a better place with the good Lord and out of pain.” He pulled a blue handkerchief from his jacket pocket and wiped his eyes.
Walt patted Bill’s arm. “Shall we say a prayer?”
Bill nodded. “I’d like that.”
Walt looked at Lil before bowing his head. She’d closed her eyes and folded her hands.
“Oh Lord, how it comforts us to know that Sam is in Your hands, safe and pain free, enjoying his new body and the glory of heaven. However, those of us who knew Sam and loved him here on earth are dealing with a different kind of pain. The gnawing hurt of loss. In the upcoming hours, days, and months, stay close to Jeanie as she mourns the loss of her husband, their children as they mourn the loss of their father, and Sam’s friends, especially Bill, easing their pain while guiding them to the solace of Your love. Amen.”
Walt looked from Bill’s eyes shining with grief to Lil’s green eyes filled with pride
. She placed her hand to her heart, a silent signal that she’d been touched by his prayer.
“Walt and I are in a men’s prayer group at church,” Bill said, his voice stronger now.
He must have read Lil’s signal, too.
Bill turned back to Walt. “I know this is a bad time for you and the hotel is closed, but Sam’s relatives need a place to stay. Is it possible they could stay here?”
Walt knew Sioux Falls was a little too far for grieving family members to travel each day. Campers in the RV park were self-sufficient, but guests staying in the hotel—that was a different story.
“I’m sorry, Bill. I’m just not up to it.”
“I know it’s a lot to ask, but it would only be a week or so.”
Walt rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “I just don’t see how I could do it. I can’t lift anything heavy; there’s daily cleaning and laundry, continental breakfast to prepare.”
“Maybe I can get some ladies from church to help out.” Bill’s voice held a small smattering of hope.
Running the hotel was hard work. There was no way that, during his recuperation period, he could do all of the work involved. Yet Sam had been a good man, the kind of man who’d stop combining his own crops to help out a sick neighbor.
Bill broke their eye contact and hung his head.
Walt glanced Lil’s way. Although they didn’t always see eye to eye, he could tell she was the kind of woman who’d pitch in with a project like this. A Rose of Sharon. His thought lifted his heart and the corners of his lips. He cleared his throat. Bill looked up.
“I’ll do it. I’ll open the hotel for Sam’s family.”
Chapter 5
I’ve got a good helper here.” Walt raised his fist thumb out like a hitchhiker and jerked it toward Lil. “Tell Jeanie there will be no charge for anyone. This is my memorial to Sam.”
Bill’s body sagged with relief while, at the same time, every nerve ending tensed in Lil. This was too big of an undertaking for Walt. Had he volunteered her to help? She’d been lost in thought over Walt’s wonderful prayer skill and the revelation of another side of this appealing man.
There she went again with the romantic notions. She should have told him that she’d called her supervisor for reassignment. But the tea party he surprised her with blindsided her rational side. It was nice to be pampered. Made her feel loved.
Her eyes bulged at the thought. Lil quickly turned her back to the men until she stopped her astonishment from showing on her face. Where had that kind of thought come from? Wherever it came from was the reason she couldn’t stay. Shouldn’t stay.
“It was nice to meet you, Lil.”
Becoming aware of life around her at the mention of her name, Lil turned back to the men, giving Bill a weak smile. “You, too. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” Bill stood. “I will talk to the church ladies. See if they’ll help with the cleaning and maybe some breakfasts.”
Walt and Bill walked toward the door. With good-byes said, Walt, having watched Bill pull out of the driveway, turned from the window.
“Walt…” Lil braced herself. She had to tell him about her wanting to leave.
He lifted his head, his face drawn in sadness. “He fought a good fight. Battled that cancer for two years.” Walt sighed as the walker clacked across the floor. He slumped into a chair. “Not quite the party I had in mind.” He waved his hand in front of the china.
“Sam lived in this community his entire life and I never met anyone who disliked him.”
Lil slipped into the chair beside Walt. She needed to treat this conversation with care. “About opening the hotel—”
“Sorry.” Walt held up his palm. “I should’ve asked you first, but you’re such a stand-up gal, I knew you wouldn’t mind. Besides, it’ll give us something to do.”
Putting her elbows on the table, Lil rested her face in her palms. Some stand-up gal she was. How could she put this?
“I think after my doctor’s appointment tomorrow, we should stock up on a few items. I’ll make a list.”
Lil bent her fingers, peeking through the slice of space it created.
Walt showed no sign of moving. Instead he stared idly at the china cup in front of him.
Was he talking to her or just talking?
“Maybe the relatives won’t stay around for breakfast. Maybe they’ll go to Jeanie’s.” Walt’s voice cracked and he wiped his eyes with the middle knuckle on his right index finger.
“Would you like some time alone?” Lil rested her arms on the tabletop, resigned that now just wasn’t the right time to tell Walt she wanted to be released from this assignment. Besides, Tiffany hadn’t returned her call yet, so she didn’t really know if she’d be leaving in a day or two.
Walt sniffed. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t want to be alone.”
Lil’s chest swelled with fear. Those mesmerizing eyes conveyed another meaning to his words as his hand engulfed hers. “Do not arouse or awaken love until it so desires.” It wasn’t possible for feelings to develop this quickly, was it? Swallowing hard, Lil knew it was, had lived it. But this wasn’t genuine, just fleeting infatuation.
Silent minutes ticked by as Walt stared at the china cup and Lil stared at their hands.
“Sam served in Nam, too. I didn’t know him back then since I’m not originally from here. Doctors at the VA think his cancer might have stemmed from chemical warfare over there.”
Lil choked back a sob. War never really stopped for soldiers who saw action. Why hadn’t she understood that when she was young?
“Guess I was lucky on that account. I wasn’t subjected to the chemicals.” Walt shivered as his eyes locked onto hers.
“Sam led the Memorial Day services. He always told the story about coming home. It was February 1968. The men in his unit, excited to be coming home, had no idea how the country was reacting to the war until their plane landed in Southern California. Before disembarking, they were told they’d be ushered to a hangar where they needed to change into civilian clothes before entering the airport because protesters waited inside. The superiors were trying to stop a riot from breaking out. They succeeded, too.”
Lil gasped.
Walt squeezed her hand. “I couldn’t agree with your reaction more.”
Lil’s rapid-fire pulse boomed in her ears. Walt mistook her reaction. She lived in California in 1968. As a war protester she waited for many planes, wanting to hurl insults and accusations, stealing the soldiers’ pride in serving their country and their relief to be home.
“Better go see if anything needs to be done to ready the rooms.” Warm tingles remained on Lil’s skin when Walt withdrew his hand from hers.
Her confused emotions twisted the past and present together in a tangled mess. She knew this nursing assignment would be tough because of Walt’s veteran status. Although gruff at times, he was an honorable soldier and faith-filled man who deserved a better person than her for his caregiver.
Walt stood. “I wish I didn’t need this.” He grasped the walker and started toward the living room. “Are you coming?”
Hesitating, Lil rose from the chair and followed. “I thought we were going to check on the rooms.” Grief must be fogging Walt’s thinking, like her emotions clouded hers.
“We are.” Walt crossed through the doorway into the living room.
“But the doors…”
Walt stopped and turned. “That’s the parking entry. The main entry to the hotel is through the office.”
Apparently Lil’s mind was fogged by past regrets but Walt’s was clear. She followed Walt through the living room, then through one of the doors on the far living room wall. Expecting to find a small cubby of an office, Lil marveled at the spacious square room, large, bright, and modern.
Yellow-and-white-striped wallpaper decorated the upper walls, meeting white wainscoting in the middle. The reception counter’s light wood, varnished to a high shine, wrapped around a smal
l workstation housing a computer, cordless phone, and rolling chair.
Wooden kitchen cabinets with a sunny-yellow countertop lined a wall. Two toasters, a microwave, and an industrial coffeemaker with a heating element on the top, as well as where the coffee brewed, sat stately on the counter.
Four diner-style tables and chairs sat about four feet from the cabinets. Mounted on the wall opposite the cabinets was another flat-screen television.
Walt stopped by the workstation and removed keys from a drawer by the computer. “Would you check and see what I have for coffee? Top cupboard just above the pot. I might need to call the service.”
Lil walked over to the cupboard. Two large boxes, one marked DECAF, sat on the shelf. She tipped each one “You have seven packages of regular coffee. The decaf box is almost full.”
A pen scratching on paper sounded as Walt jotted a note.
“Anything else while I’m over here?”
“Don’t think so.” Walt started down the hallway, opening a door to their right marked LAUNDRY.
Wide-eyed, Lil followed behind. The room housed two industrial front-loading washers and dryers. The washers sat on one side, the dryers on the opposite wall. A long white plastic table cut the room in two. A cart with a large canvas bag inserted into a hollow area sat just inside the door.
Walt opened a closet lined with linens, towels, and cardboard boxes and began inventorying the supplies. “Good on soap. And it looks like Sarah caught up the laundry.” He turned. Taking his hands from the walker, he placed them on his hips. “I’ll be on laundry duty.”
“I can’t have you overdoing,” Lil argued. “You’ll run the desk and nothing else.”
Walt raised a brow. “It doesn’t take much to throw towels and sheets into a washer and dryer.”
The walker clacked past her as Walt headed into the hallway. Lil followed, closing the laundry room door behind them.
“If the laundry’s caught up, my guess is Sarah has the rooms clean and in order.” Walt stopped in front of the first room’s door in the hallway, inserted a key in the lock, and opened the door.
Dakota Love Page 35