Dream of Her Heart

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Dream of Her Heart Page 18

by Shanna Hatfield


  “Is there anything else we can get him? Get you?” Rock asked.

  “No. I think we have everything we need, don’t we Captain West?”

  “Oh, drop the captain business, Billie, girl. Ain’t we all just dandy friends?” Zane’s grin looked lopsided as he turned his face toward her.

  Rock walked around the bed and moved so he stood close to the headboard on the other side. He reached out and placed his hand on Zane’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sure happy to have you staying with us for a while, Tex. It’ll be just like old times, except there’s no cranky sergeant to kick us out of bed or bark orders at us.”

  “Remember when ol’…” Zane’s voice faded and his head tilted to one side.

  Billie wasn’t sure if he’d gone to sleep from exhaustion or passed out. Either way, he needed the rest.

  “Will he be all right?” Rock asked, giving her a questioning glance.

  “I think so. I’ll sit up with him tonight, but I’ll need a ride to the hospital early in the morning.”

  “You can take our car whenever you want to leave.” Rock walked back around the bed and followed her into the hallway. He turned off the light in Zane’s room and shut the door until it remained open just a crack.

  Billie shook her head. “That would be disastrous for your car since I’ve never learned how to drive.”

  “Well, that does present a problem.” Rock gave her a studying glance. “You need to be at the hospital bright and early to carry out the rest of your plans, don’t you?”

  “I do. They could make do without me, but I think I can get the boys to cooperate better than someone else.”

  “I’ll take you back now. Miko can keep an eye on Zane. She’s pretty handy when it comes to nursing sick soldiers.”

  “She’s the one who nursed you back to health?” Billie asked, surprised by this bit of news as she and Rock returned to the kitchen.

  Rock’s wife, the woman he called Miko, had her back to them as she poured coffee. Slices of chocolate cake set on pretty plates at the kitchen table.

  “Do you take cream?” Miko asked as she turned to Billie and smiled.

  “No. Black is fine,” Billie said, trying not to stare at the beautiful woman who looked nothing like she pictured. She assumed Rock would marry a woman who resembled… well, her. He seemed the type to choose a petite, blond-haired, curvy woman with all-American appeal.

  Miko was tall and graceful, lithe and lovely. She could have passed as a movie star with the way she carried herself so elegantly. It wasn’t Miko’s finely tailored dress, the perfect style of her glossy black hair, or even her friendly smile that drew Billie’s admiration.

  What struck Billie the most was the love shining in Miko’s eyes and glowing on her face when she looked at Rock — like he alone had hung the moon and stars glistening outside in the night sky.

  She glanced at her former patient and saw he returned his wife’s deep affection.

  Their love for one another was so strong, so clearly evident, she could almost feel it filling the kitchen as she took a seat at the table.

  A hundred questions poured through her thoughts, but she kept them to herself. Rock had found a woman he adored and that was good enough for her. In truth, she was glad for him, for the love he’d found and the life he was building. He deserved every moment of happiness that came his way. And so did his gracious wife.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Billie and Peggy crept up the hospital’s back stairs in the pre-dawn hours of the morning and made their way to Doctor Ridley’s office.

  One final time the three of them reviewed the details of their strategy to catch Doctor Bartle. When they finished, the doctor went to find an orderly he felt they could trust while Peggy and Billie went to room seven.

  Two of the men were awake, the rest not yet stirring when they entered the room. Peggy stood watch in the hallway while Billie awakened the men who were sleeping and shared their plans.

  “Under no circumstances can Doctor Bartle, Nurse Homer, and Captain West’s brother know anything is amiss. We have to convince them the person in that bed,” Billie pointed to the bed that had been Zane’s, “is Zane and none other. If you’re afraid of what might happen or just don’t want to be in the room, now is the time to tell me. I’ll find somewhere to place you until after all this is over.”

  Not a single man wanted to move. In fact, a few of them volunteered to take down Zane’s brother if he showed his face again.

  “What kind of yella-bellied skunk would hire someone to kill his own brother?” Sarge asked, indignant fury puckering his heavy brow.

  “The kind like that dandified snake wearing snakeskin boots who was here yesterday,” another man said. “Count me in. I’ll help.”

  “Thank you,” Billie said, smiling at the men she considered “her boys.”

  An hour later, they’d all had breakfast before she and Peggy whisked away their trays. While Peggy wrapped gauze around the head of the orderly the doctor had asked to help, Billie snuck down to the floor below them to see if Nurse Homer had arrived for the day.

  After spying the woman at the nurse’s station, Billie rushed upstairs and let Doctor Ridley know the nurse was there. She then returned to room seven and surveyed Peggy’s efforts to make the orderly look like Zane.

  “We need to make his hair swoop in the front,” Billie said, using her fingers to style the young man’s hair that was nearly the same shade of dark brown as Zane’s. With the gauze bandage wrapped over his eyes and most of his nose, he could pass as Zane to someone who didn’t know him well.

  She wasn’t sure Doctor Bartle had ever actually looked at Zane, even if he’d been in the room before.

  “Thank you so much for helping us, Colin. We really appreciate it.” Billie finished brushing the young man’s hair and took a step back, surveying her work.

  “I’m happy to do what I can, Nurse Brighton.” The orderly grinned at her. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”

  “All you need to do is pretend you’re asleep. That’s it.”

  “I won’t get in trouble if I really take a nap, will I? I’ve been on duty since three yesterday afternoon.”

  Billie laughed softly. “No, you won’t get in trouble. By all means, sleep while you can.”

  After getting him settled in Zane’s bed, Billie and Peggy reminded the men to keep their lips sealed and went to Doctor Ridley’s office. The two of them weren’t scheduled to work for a few more hours and didn’t want to give anything away with their presence.

  When two police officers arrived at a quarter to seven, Billie watched as Doctor Ridley accompanied the men from the room and down the hallway. They figured Doctor Bartle would sneak in before breakfast, which they generally served the men at eight in the morning.

  Billie and Peggy peered out Doctor Ridley’s office window and watched Doctor Bartle arrive a few minutes past seven.

  “I hope this works,” Billie said to Peggy as they turned away from the window and paced around the office, waiting.

  “It’s just got to, Billie. Goodness only knows how many other patients we’ve lost due to Nurse Homer and Doctor Bartle. It makes me wonder if he’s even a real physician,” Peggy said, plopping down in one of the two chairs in front of Doctor Ridley’s desk.

  The hands on the clock seemed to move in slow motion as they waited. Twenty minutes after they’d watched Doctor Bartle arrive, a commotion down the hall made them both race to the door. They yanked it open and watched as Nurse Homer tried to beat Doctor Bartle with an empty bedpan while the officers attempted to get them both into handcuffs.

  Doctor Ridley followed the group to the elevator, letting the two criminals know what he thought of them.

  Billie ran down the hall to room seven with Peggy right behind her. Colin sat up in bed, the gauze they’d wrapped around his eyes on his lap as he laughed with the other men.

  “Well, it’s about time you got here,” Sarge said, grinning at Bi
llie as she and Peggy skidded into the room.

  “You’re all fine?” she asked, quickly surveying the men to make sure everyone looked well.

  “Better than fine,” Jimmy piped in. “That’s the most fun we’ve had in a while.”

  “You shoulda seen that quack, Nurse Billie. He and Horrid Homer tiptoed in here and we all pretended to be asleep. They sidled right up to Colin, thinking he was Zane, see.” Sarge leaned back against his pillows, excited to tell the tale. “Nurse Homer grabbed his arm and yanked away the covers while Bully Bartle lifted a needle, ready to stab him, telling him his brother sent his best regards. But before he could give him a shot, Doc Ridley and the officers jumped out from behind that screen and caught them by surprise. You shoulda seen their faces.” Sarge hooted and slapped his leg with his hand.

  Billie glanced at the screen in the corner by Jimmy’s bed. It had made a perfect hiding spot to hear what was said and watch the drama unfold.

  “Colin did a dandy job of pretending to be Zane,” Jimmy said, his grin growing broader. “I don’t think they realized it wasn’t him at all.”

  “Most likely not,” Billie said, gifting each man with a beaming smile. “I think this occasion calls for another round of breakfast. Who’s hungry?”

  The men cheered and laughed as she and Peggy oversaw the delivery of more food. A few hours later, Billie looked up from the nurse’s station and saw Floyd West walking down the hallway with an evil gleam in his eye and a pleased look on his face.

  When he saw her watching him, he quickly schooled his features into an expression of grief.

  “Everything okay with Zane today?” he asked as Billie met him outside the door of room seven.

  “No. No it isn’t,” she said, wanting to stand on a chair and slap the living daylights out of the repugnant lout. “Doctor Ridley would like to speak with you in his office.”

  Floyd sauntered down the hall beside her. When he reached over and ran his hand over her backside outside the doctor’s office, she spun around and elbowed him in the gut.

  A dark scowl replaced his cocky sneer as she stepped into the office and announced his presence. A police officer awaited him there, but, much to her dismay, Floyd somehow wriggled out of the officer’s grasp and took off running.

  “Stop that man!” Doctor Ridley yelled as Floyd flung open the door to the stairs and raced down them.

  “He’s faster than I would have given him credit for,” Sarge said from the doorway of room seven.

  Billie turned and shook her head, hoping the authorities would catch him before he escaped and made his way back to Texas.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Sleep left Zane slowly, like a tide in no hurry to ebb and roll back to the sea. He rested on his uninjured side, one hand tucked beneath a soft pillow that smelled of sunshine and Oxydol detergent.

  Awareness seeped into his consciousness and he realized the background sounds were different than what he’d grown accustomed to hearing at the hospital. He heard music playing on a radio in the distance. The whoosh of water running through pipes. The moo of a cow.

  “A cow?” he mumbled in his half-awake state and sat up in bed. His hands brushed over cotton sheets that carried the scent of fresh outdoors and a soft blanket that felt nothing like the coarse one he’d had at the hospital.

  He stretched out his arms then his legs, discovering he slept in a large bed, not a small hospital bed.

  Fingers exploring, he traced the smooth wood of a headboard and trailed over a bedside table. He leaned farther to the right and felt the cool glass of a lamp.

  Memories of the previous day, of Floyd’s threats and Billie coming to his rescue with the help of her friend Peggy, Doctor Ridley, and Rock filled his mind.

  Aw, that was it. He was at Rock’s house.

  Zane had been so weary when he’d arrived, he hadn’t even been properly introduced to Rock’s wife. The fuzzy recesses of his mind recalled gentle hands lifting his head and giving him a drink when he’d awakened in the middle of the night. She’d hummed a song, one he didn’t recognize, as she wiped his brow with a warm cloth and encouraged him to go back to sleep.

  A creaking to his left drew his attention that direction. He assumed the hinges of the door could use a little oil as they continued to protest at being used.

  “Morning, Zane. How are you feeling?” Rock asked. Zane counted his friend’s footsteps as he crossed the floor. Rock took three before the steps sounded muted, like he walked on a carpet. He felt a hand on his shoulder and then Rock patted his back. “Do you feel like eating breakfast?”

  “I could do with some food,” Zane said, grinning at Rock. “Do you think after I eat, I might be able to take a bath or shower?”

  “I think we can take care of that. Or I could haul you out to a pond and toss you in. I might even be able to find one with leeches.”

  Zane recalled a summer afternoon years ago when he and Rock had gone swimming in what was nothing more than a glorified mud hole and both came out covered in leeches.

  “That won’t be necessary.” He swung his legs over the edge of the mattress and placed his feet on a plush carpet. When he stood, Rock’s hand on his arm steadied him. “Would it be okay if I sat at the table? I’m about plumb worn out of staying in bed.”

  “The table it is,” Rock said with a smile evident in his voice.

  Zane tried not to feel useless as Rock helped him slip on the robe he’d worn from the hospital then guided him into a hallway. “Turn right and you’ll run into the wall at the end of the hall. Turn left, and it’s about seven steps to the kitchen door on the right or five steps to the bathroom door on the left. Our bedroom is another ten steps down the hall.

  “Let’s make a stop in the bathroom.” Zane tamped down his embarrassment and irritation at the need to have Rock help him before they went to the kitchen.

  The welcome aroma of coffee and bacon mingled in the air, making Zane’s mouth water. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d eaten crispy, perfectly fried bacon. The toe-tapping sounds of Cab Calloway performing The Jumpin’ Jive adding a lively undertone to the welcoming atmosphere of Rock’s home.

  “Good morning, Captain West,” a cultured, feminine voice spoke from in front of him.

  Zane pasted on a smile and nodded that direction. “Good morning, Mrs. Laroux. It’s sure a pleasure to meet you.”

  “The pleasure is mine, sir. Rock has spoken of you with great affection. Truly, it is wonderful to have this opportunity to make your acquaintance.”

  Zane’s smile became genuine. “I hope he didn’t tell you about any of the crazy, stupid things we used to do.”

  A melodic laugh danced around his ears. “Oh, he’s told me a few stories, but I’d love to hear more. Maybe you’ll tattle on him. According to Rock, you were the one who always led him astray.”

  Zane turned his head to his right, where he knew Rock stood. “Is that so?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow in question.

  Rock chuckled and nudged him forward, placing Zane’s hands on the back of a chair. “I was the fair-haired child who never thought of doing anything ornery or naughty.”

  Zane snickered as he felt his way around the chair and sat down. “Rock single-handedly got our entire barracks in trouble one time.”

  “Now this sounds like a great story,” Rock’s wife said, amusement ripe in her voice.

  “I like to think it is, Mrs. Laroux.” He heard a chair scrape against the floor to his left, the swish of skirts, and a noise that could have been a kiss as the chair was scooted in. It was easy to picture Rock seating his wife and giving her a quick kiss. Even if he couldn’t see, he could feel the love that flowed between the couple. Their happiness enveloped the entire house and everyone in it.

  Rock’s footsteps moved around the back of his chair, and then he took a seat on the other side of Zane.

  A thin hand with incredibly long fingers settled on top of Zane’s. “Please, Captain West. I hope you’ll call me Miko.
All my friends do.”

  Zane had never heard that name before. Miko sounded foreign, but it could stand for anything he supposed. He offered his best friend’s wife his most charming smile. “I’d be happy to do that, Miko, but only if you call me Zane.”

  “Zane it is,” she said, then gently guided his left hand to the edge of his plate. “If you pretend your plate is a clock, your toast is at noon. It’s already buttered and I added jam. I hope you like strawberry.”

  “Perfect,” Zane said, grinning at her.

  “There are two fried eggs at four and bacon at eight. Milk and coffee are at one o’clock just above your plate, and silverware is to your left.”

  Grateful Miko made it easy for him to locate what he needed, he bowed his head as Rock asked a blessing on the meal, on the day ahead of them, and gave thanks for the privilege of Zane staying there with them.

  His friend’s words brought a lump to Zane’s throat and he realized it had been a while since he’d spent some quiet time in prayer. God had spared him, even if he hadn’t quite yet accepted the gift of grace, or allowed himself to accept the forgiveness he needed for his part in Smitty’s death.

  Determined not to dwell on dark thoughts, he joined in the conversation between bites of the best meal he’d had in months. The toast was made from homemade bread, yeasty and light, topped with freshly churned butter and sweet strawberry jam made from berries grown right there on the farm.

  “The eggs,” Rock said, “were yanked right from the roost this morning and the glass of milk is straight from the source.”

  “I thought I heard a cow mooing earlier,” Zane said. He took a bite of crispy, salty bacon and barely suppressed a moan. It tasted so good.

  “We have two cows, Amos and Andy. John and Lucy Phillips, our neighbors on the other side of the pasture, are building up a dairy,” Rock said, and then he chuckled. “Just wait until you meet their son. Petey is an all-around, couldn’t-be-better kind of boy.”

  “He saved our lives,” Miko said quietly.

  “He what?” Zane asked, shocked. The piece of toast he’d been about to bite into dangled in his fingers as he turned toward Rock. “What happened?”

 

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