“And it does have a good home.” Walt pressed the iron down on the yellow fabric. “I can’t believe how well this yellow and the background of that fabric”—Walt pointed to the bolt lying across the kitchen table—“match.”
“I know. Lily will be so surprised.”
“Well, if her reaction is anything like yours, you’d better have the smelling salts handy, Nurse Hayes. I thought you might pass out.”
Walt lifted the block from the ironing board, stepping it over to the table. “Ready for you to do your stuff. You know, I should make one of these for Mark and Sarah for their wedding gift.”
“It would make a lovely gift, but maybe you’d better hire someone to make it.”
Walt studied the small fabric piece to make sure it lined up perfectly on Lil’s traced template.
“I’m helping you. You could help me. I think we make a pretty good team.”
Lil kept her head down, her focus no longer on her sewing but on Walt’s words. They were feeding off each other’s feelings in this close proximity. “Do not arouse or awaken love until it so desires.”
Is that what they were doing? Creating feelings? Or had love decided to be awakened? How was she supposed to tell?
Lil let off the foot pedal and rubbed her temples, her mind and heart grappling in an emotional cage match. “The project is moving along faster than I thought it would.”
A safe answer, not really denying they were a good team yet not affirming it either.
“I think Mark felt sorry for me and gave me a good deal on that bolt of fabric. He discounted it much more than the clearance price.”
“Probably got the extra friends-and-family discount.” Walt fiddled with a fabric piece until he got it just right. “But you never know, if the situation is explained right, Caroline might sell the quilt.”
“I don’t know about that. The pictures on her website show the quilt draped over the altar at their wedding, so that means it’s pretty special to them.”
“Still”—Walt shrugged—“wouldn’t hurt to ask.”
“I suppose not, but—”
The jangle of a door buzzer, similar to the one in Mark’s store, broke into their conversation. Lil had helped Walt reactivate it this morning.
“Walt?” Sandy called through the office entry in the living room.
“In the kitchen.” Walt put the iron in the caddy just as Sandy popped through the doorway.
“Here’s tomorrow’s breakfast casserole.” She lifted a cake pan.
Lil rose from her sentry at the sewing machine to unburden Sandy. “We just made some coffee. Would you like a cup?”
Sandy rubbed her palms together. “That would be wonderful, thank you. Winter’s definitely on its way and I dread it. You’d think after all these years I’d be used to it. I have one more trip to the car; then I can sit and warm up a minute.”
After rearranging the items in the refrigerator, Lil slid the nine-by-thirteen cake pan onto a shelf. Sandy had attached a sticky note with cooking directions on the lid. The woman thought of everything.
Lil removed another mug from the cupboard, poured the coffee, and was replacing the pot when Sandy came back through the door, carrying two large disposable pans of cinnamon rolls.
“Some folks don’t eat a big breakfast, so we thought we’d provide options.” Sandy placed the pans on the counter.
“I might need to sample one of those before we put them out, just to make sure they’re customer quality.” Walt winked at Lil.
“Oh Walt.” Sandy waved her hand. “Help yourself now—we made plenty. Plus our group didn’t get any meals over here last week when you came home. Moving up that surgery surprised us, so you two eat some of the food we’re bringing over, too. Don’t send it all to Jeanie’s.”
Walt waited for Sandy to sit. He held the back of Lil’s chair until she sat down; then he took a seat. A thrill rippled through Lil at Walt’s small but caring gesture.
“Have you heard when the funeral’s scheduled?” Walt lifted his cup to his lips.
“Tuesday. They’re waiting for his sister from Oregon.”
Walt nodded his understanding while Lil sipped her coffee and tallied the time the hotel would have guests—at the very least, a week and a half.
“Don’t worry.” Sandy rapped the table with her knuckles. “We’ve got you covered for food through next Friday with quiches, biscuits and gravy, Danish, and coffee cake.”
“Lil makes a mean frittata. She could cover a morning.” Walt’s voice held pride in her cooking abilities. “That is, if you don’t mind, Lil. I know we’ll be busy doing the laundry. It’s hard to keep up with the need for towels.”
“I don’t mind. Let’s see how the week goes though. We might find they just don’t feel like eating much.”
“Good idea.” Sandy held her cup in midair. “Never know, we might wind up with too much food.”
“The ladies coming to clean can take a break and eat some, too.” Walt played with the handle of his empty coffee cup.
“That reminds me. Jan wants to know if you need your uniform pressed for the funeral.”
“Shouldn’t. I had it dry cleaned and haven’t put it on since.”
Lil’s jaw dropped. Uniform. “Why wouldn’t you just wear a suit?” Would she be able to handle seeing Walt in his uniform? Especially after his dream this afternoon? Most people only imagined the horror of the nightmares, but she had a firsthand account. She shivered despite the warmth of the room and her jogging suit.
Walt lifted his brows in surprise. “Sam was a veteran, so the Legion will present a flag and do a twenty-one gun salute at the grave site.”
“But you said the other day that you don’t help with the VFW.” Lil drew her brows together in confusion.
“I don’t. The Legion Post I belong to performs the ceremony.”
“They’re two different organizations, dear.” Sandy smiled as she rose from her chair, but her tone indicated that this was something that was common knowledge.
A trickle of anger rolled through her at Sandy’s implication but died down quickly. Maybe it was common knowledge. After protesting the war, having a change of heart, and being jilted, Lil tried to block anything to do with veterans, other than health issues, out of her mind.
“Walt, are you going to feel up to attending services this Sunday? If so, I hope you’ll join him, Lil.”
“If I feel up to it, she’ll have to attend or I don’t have a ride. The doctor hasn’t released me to drive yet.” Walt stood, adjusted his walker, and walked toward the living room with Sandy.
Lil trailed a few feet behind then sat on the arm of the sofa while Sandy and Walt continued through the door to the office.
“You know anyone from church would come and get you. Same for the funeral. Just give us a call.” Sandy stood with her hand on the doorknob.
The thought that Walt would attend Sam’s funeral hadn’t even crossed Lil’s mind. He’d want to go even if he wasn’t performing his Legion duties. His business might be a few miles from town, but seeing Walt’s interaction with Bill and Sandy, she knew he was an active community member. She sent up a silent prayer that his church family was willing to come and get him. As much as she enjoyed Walt’s company, some time apart might clear their heads enough to get their emotions under control.
“Nice seeing you again.” Sandy leaned and waved around Walt. “Lil Hayes. I just can’t figure out why your name and eyes are so familiar to me. I’ll figure it out though.”
Walt closed the door behind Sandy.
“I wonder if she knows Lily and is mistaking you for her since you’re twins.” Walt walked through the living room, the walker lifted a few inches off of the ground.
“Put the walker down.”
Walt grunted but followed her instructions.
“Lily and I are fraternal twins, so we resemble each other but no one would confuse us. Lily’s petite like our mother’s side of the family, with deep blue eyes and blond, st
raight hair.” She pulled at a cottony ringlet, letting it boing back into place.
“Maybe she’s run into you at a doctor’s office or something.” Walt eased down into his easy chair then picked up the remote control from the end table.
“I always worked in the emergency room, never a doctor’s office.” Lil shrugged. “Maybe I have a look-alike that knows someone from this area.”
“Maybe.” Walt shrugged. “Sandy’s not originally from this area though. She grew up in Southern California.”
Stifling the gasp in her throat, Lil felt her eyes widen. She coughed, trying to clear her past from her throat. Luckily, Walt was engrossed in the news so he didn’t notice. Did she know a Sandy? She racked her brain. None that she remembered from her protest days, so that couldn’t be the connection. Could it?
Chapter 7
I think I’ll go do that bookwork.” Walt turned to go into the office. “Think you can spare me from working on the quilt for a while?”
“Actually, I need to run to my camper.” It was time to return Tiffany’s call. Lil’s feelings for Walt were growing stronger, and if his reaction to her war protesting came close to Larry’s, it might set Walt back in his recovery.
“Okay. I’ll call you on the walkie-talkie if I need you.” The clack of the walker hitting the hardwood floor punctuated his words.
Walt’s stance was getting straighter, which meant he wasn’t having much pain around his incision. She’d promised to help him with the hotel this next week and she would. That would give Tiffany time to line up another nurse.
Lil went to the bedroom to retrieve Walt’s idea of modern communication. If he fell in the office, a lot of good a walkie-talkie in the bedroom would do him. Lil walked to the office.
“Here.” Lil handed the device to Walt. “Just in case you need it.”
Walt peered over his bifocals. “Are you sure you’re not a doctor? I can’t read your chicken scratch. What does this say?” He held the note up to her.
“It says, ‘Need extra pillows in room 2.’ ”
Frowning, Walt studied the paper. “I don’t see that, but since you wrote it, I’ll take your word for it.”
He pushed down on the arms of the office chair to stand, but the pressure rolled the wheels back, throwing him off balance. “Whoa.” He gripped the edge of the desktop.
At his first wobble, Lil’s sense of time turned into slow motion. Walt’s sharp intake of breath sounded deep and strung out as his body tilted backward.
Her arms flailed as she rounded the counter, grabbing the back of the chair and shoving it out of the way. The whir of wheels, then a thump against something assured her that danger had passed.
Walt rocked forward like a children’s inflatable clown punching bag. She needed to steady him before backward momentum came into play. She wrapped her arms around his middle, planted her feet, and braced her legs.
All motion stopped.
Lil’s exertion puffed out in heavy exhalations, ruffling the short gray hair around Walt’s ears.
After a few seconds, his breathing returned to normal. “Lil, I think I’ve regained my balance.”
Loosening her tight grip, Lil sighed. “Are you sure?” She was reluctant to move away from Walt’s calming warmth.
“Yes. Are you all right?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Lil released Walt’s middle, stepping back slowly to make sure he had his footing.
“I heard the whir of the chair wheels and a loud crack. Did I push it so hard it knocked into you?”
Just like Walt to think of someone else before himself. “I pushed the chair out of the way. It ricocheted and hit the wall or the counter. I don’t know for sure. I was trying to get to you before you hit the ground.”
Lil moved around to Walt’s side, pulling on the band of her fleece top to adjust it.
“I will say that scared me a little. Wasn’t expecting it.” Walt kept both hands clamped to the desk’s edge.
“I told you it might take awhile for your balance to even out.”
Walt nodded.
“I’m sorry, Walt. The first day I was here, I tried to safe-proof your house while you rested. Guess I missed a chair with wheels that could roll out from under you.”
“It’s not your fault, Speedy. We didn’t plan on using this room for a while.” Walt motioned for his walker.
Placing both hands firmly on the grips, Walt angled around. “Maybe we’d better move one of the dinette chairs from the breakfast area over here for the time being.”
“Good idea.”
“Where’s that walkie-talkie?”
“Right here.” Lil stretched to reach the communication device then handed it to Walt.
He slid it into his overalls pocket. “There”—he patted the pocket—“a little peace of mind.”
He put the ring of master keys in another pocket. “You go on to your camper. I’ll just get the pillows and finish up here.”
As much as she needed to return Tiffany’s call, Lil wasn’t leaving Walt alone.
“Just how do you plan to carry the pillows? I’ll stay.” Lil pushed the rolling chair out into an open space. She grabbed the closest dinette chair and waited for Walt to round the counter before she placed the chair in front of the computer.
“I don’t know. It might be a little low.”
Walt leaned over the counter. “Well, I won’t really be using it much anyway.”
Lil studied the chair from various angles. “I’m concerned for your safety.”
The door jingled open and several people pulling suitcases came in. For the next hour, Lil helped Walt get everyone settled into their rooms, giving them all extra towels and pillows since the front desk wasn’t open all night.
Lil listened while Walt instructed his guests on how the back door worked after hours then told them that a hot breakfast would be served in the morning.
He knew Sam’s children but not their children. The family members seemed to know that he had opened the hotel just for them, and they promised not to be any trouble.
Walt watched his guests pull out of the hotel’s driveway before he turned tired eyes to Lil. Weariness was etched in the lines of his face.
“My stomach says it’s getting close to suppertime.”
“Mine, too, but with your doctor’s appointment and this”—Lil waved around the room—“I forgot to take something out.”
Heading toward the kitchen, Lil noted Walt hitching his step. He’d been on his feet too long.
“Walt, you’re limping. Is your hip bothering you?”
The walker scooted along as Walt purposely stepped heel to toe. “I have some pressure, not really pain. Just reverted to that bad habit because it helped for so many years.”
“You can take some pain reliever, you know.”
“I know.” Walt guided the walker to the kitchen table and lowered himself onto a padded dinette chair.
Lil put her hands on her hips and looked around the kitchen as if that would make dinner magically appear.
“I know you like to eat healthy.”
Lil braced. Walt had plenty of processed food that she could heat up.
“But I’d like to treat you to supper. The drive-in a few miles from here makes a pretty good pizza, and they deliver.”
“Clear out here?”
Walt nodded. “Farther. Won’t take a tip either. What do you say? You have to be tired, too. We deserve a treat, don’t we?”
“Actually, that sounds really good.”
“The number’s by the phone. Order any kind you like. I’m not fussy about pizza—just make it a large.”
After the pizza was ordered, Lil started to pick up the quilt pieces from the tabletop.
“I can help with that.” Walt started to rise.
“You set there and rest.” She pointed a finger at him before arranging the various-shaped pieces in a stack and placing them on the counter. She moved the sewing machine to the far end of the table.
Just as she reached into the cupboard for paper plates, the hotel door-opening indicator sounded.
Lil looked at Walt before placing the plates on the counter. “That can’t be the pizza man.”
“No, he’s not that fast. It’s probably some of Sam’s family.” Walt started to get up.
“I’ll take care of this. You were on your feet too long this afternoon. You’re going to take some pain reliever with your dinner.”
“Well, print then, so I don’t need a decipher ring to decode your writing.”
Lil stopped, placed her hand on her hip, and pulled a face at Walt before she hurried from the kitchen.
“Thank You, God, for the great timing,” Walt whispered as he rose from the chair. It should take Lil at least fifteen minutes to get the guests checked in. That’d give him enough time to turn the kitchen into a cozy atmosphere and their dinner into a date.
To get close to the counter, Walt used his walker, then left it behind and steadied his steps and balance by hanging on to the edge of the counter for support. He put the paper plates away.
Making it to the cupboard where his mother’s china was stored, Walt carefully lifted out two plates, sliding them along the countertop. He made his way back to the end of the cupboards by the table where he’d left his walker.
Leaving the plates on the edge of the counter, he maneuvered himself between the counter and the table. Once the plates were on the table, he retraced his steps to gather other keepsakes of his mother’s—wineglasses. They’d add to the ambience even though he planned to fill them with ginger ale.
Keeping his ears alert for Lil’s returning footsteps, he finished setting the table. He lifted the liter bottle of ginger ale from the refrigerator, trying to carry it and push the walker. The walker had a mind of its own, veering off to the side. Tucking the bottle under his arm so both hands could steer the walker, Walt took a step, but the slick plastic bottle slid down the arm of his flannel shirt.
Letting go of the walker, he caught the bottle before it could hit the floor and make a mess. That certainly wouldn’t be a romantic evening, scrubbing sticky soda from the floor. Realizing he’d have to leave the soda carrying to Lil, he returned the bottle to the refrigerator.
Dakota Love Page 38