Dream of Her Heart

by Shanna Hatfield

  “Nah. I knew you’d do fine, and you did.”

  Zane kissed her palm and her heart stopped. His lips trailed up to her wrist and her heart jumpstarted then began a beat set in double time.

  Swiftly gathering the rapidly unraveling threads of her common sense, Billie yanked them together and tugged her hand from Zane’s. “We better continue with the lesson.”

  “Driving or kissing?” he asked. Even though she couldn’t see his eyes, the look he gave her held such heat, she felt singed just sitting near him.

  “Driving, cowboy. Just driving.”

  He chuckled and scooted back until his arm once again rested out the open window. “Put the car in gear, check to make sure no one is coming, and then turn right at the intersection.”

  “Can you see the stop sign? The intersection?” she asked, hopeful.

  “No, but I have a good idea how far a mile is. I figure we have to be close.”

  “It’s right in front of us.” She followed his instructions, turned the car to the right, and started down the road.

  By the time they reached the next intersection a mile later, she was feeling much more confident. Zane hadn’t tried to distract her again. She wavered between feeling relieved he’d behaved and disappointed that he hadn’t at least tried.

  The feel of his lips on her neck, his leg pressed to hers, did things to her she’d never imagined. And mercy! His kisses to her fingers, her wrist. If he’d kept going, she wasn’t certain what might have happened. But with each kiss, each inch he’d advanced, her resistance faded until she wasn’t sure she’d have kept even a smidgen of it.

  “You never told me much about your family, Billie girl. You’ve met what’s left of mine, such as it is. I’m sure sorry about my brother. Floyd is…Floyd.”

  “You aren’t your brother’s keeper, Zane. Don’t take on his problems just because you’re related. That’s not right or fair. He made his choices.” She sighed. “I just hope he really did return to Texas and doesn’t pop up around here again. What do you think he’ll do?”

  “I doubt I’ve heard the last from him, but he’s too big a coward to risk anything that might get him caught or into trouble right now.” Zane studied her for a moment. “Now, let’s hear about your family.”

  “There isn’t much to tell.” The day was too pleasant to dredge up her past. Since it was Sunday, Rock and Miko had held an impromptu church service in their living room. Rock read a few Psalms from his Bible and then the four of them sang several hymns they all knew.

  Afterward, Billie helped Miko set out a cold lunch. They’d just finished eating when Petey Phillips arrived to check on the dog. Once he declared Tuffy a brand-new dog after his bath, the boy and canine rolled around in the grass until Petey decided he better run on home. That’s when Zane landed on the idea to give Billie a driving lesson.

  “There has to be more than what you shared, Billie. You told me your father and mother both died when you were young and that you got passed from pillar to post until you decided to make your own way when you were sixteen. What happened to your folks?”

  Billie hated to think about the sadness of her youth, but she knew Zane would persist until he wheedled the truth out of her. “My father was ten years older than my mother. They wed when she was barely sixteen. Two years later, they had me, and a year after that, my father decided he needed to do his part in helping knock the Germans down a peg during the Great War. As soon as America joined the war, he enlisted. He died the following summer in a bloody battle. My mother never recovered from her grief and she died when I was seven. As you know, the elderly aunt who took me in couldn’t provide adequate care, so I went to stay with one of Mother’s friends. Then I went from her house to another, to another. By the time I was sixteen, I’d lived in twelve different homes. It was time for a change. I got a job waiting tables at a restaurant, found a few girls looking for a roommate and began making my own way. That’s when I started saving my money to go to nursing school. I took any job I could find to put money away.”

  Zane’s eyebrows shot above the sunglasses he wore, stretching toward his hairline.

  Billie shook her head. “Well, not any job, but those I could do without compromising my morals or integrity. I waited tables, took in mending, made deliveries for a dress shop. I even worked in a hospital’s laundry room just to get my toe in the door there.”

  “Wow, Billie. I had no idea. You really are full of pluck and determination aren’t you?”

  She smiled. “I try. I haven’t had anyone to lean on, to count on, since I was a tiny child. I’ve learned to take care of myself.”

  “And you’ve done an admirable job of it.” Zane continued gazing at her, as though he tried to study her. “What about the future? If you could snap your fingers and make one dream come true, what would it be?”

  Billie had never admitted it to anyone, but she felt compelled to share her dream with Zane. “Ever since my mother died, the one thing I wanted most in the world was a place to call home. When I close my eyes, I can picture it, Zane. It’s a little place in the country, a farmhouse with a broad porch and flowers everywhere. Of course, there would have to be a dog, and some other animals, and I always picture apple trees in the distance. Lately, it seems that dream includes a handsome dark-haired man with the most intriguing dimples that come out of hiding when he smiles.”

  Zane turned away and didn’t say another word for the length of several heartbeats, then he faced her again. “When I was here in May, why did you work so hard at keeping me an arm’s length away?”

  Billie didn’t think she’d done a very good job of keeping her distance from him. Not at all. Yet, she had insisted they depart as friends, not potential lovers.

  “I saw what happens to a woman who loves a soldier, Zane. Her heart shatters when she finds out he isn’t coming home. I just couldn’t put myself through that kind of misery. Years ago, I made it a personal rule to never get involved with a soldier.”

  “So what are we, then? What’s this?” Zane asked, agitation thickening his voice as he motioned between the two of them. “I could be wrong, but I think you’ve already bent that rule.”

  “I may have made allowances where you’re concerned. However, you aren’t going to be a soldier now, so that changes things.”

  “Oh, I’m still a soldier and I plan to get right back into the thick of things as soon as I can,” Zane said, turning his face toward the window. “So you’re telling me the only reason you’ve been smooching on me, cuddling up to me, is because you think my military career is over. Is that right?”

  “That’s not… I didn’t mean…” Billie stammered, unable to refute what he said when he’d summed it up so well. She’d loved Zane from the moment they met, but she hadn’t surrendered to the possibility of that love, to the opportunities of loving him, until he’d arrived at the hospital wounded and no longer able to fly. It wasn’t that her love for him had changed. No, it had taken root and grown from that first day she’d looked into his amazing pale blue eyes and gotten lost in his dimpled smile. Now, though, she felt free to love him without the niggling worry he’d be killed in some foreign place by an unknown enemy.

  Then again, he’d nearly been killed by a doctor in her hospital at the request of his own brother.

  Maybe life was full of danger and she had to learn to accept it in all its forms. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice Zane had grown quiet until they passed an apple farm. From the road, the top of a farmhouse was just visible. Billie sucked in a gulp, convinced it was the house she’d always pictured in her dreams. Goose bumps broke out on her arms and she swiveled her head, trying to see more.

  She didn’t say anything about it, though, and continued driving. Not far down the road, they passed a large farm, one she recalled seeing when she and Zane had driven around in May, searching for Rock. She turned a corner onto a main road and grinned as a red-haired boy ran across the yard, waving and smiling.

  “Oh, it’s Pe
tey’s house,” she said, nudging Zane. “We’re driving past the yard and he’s waving like we’re a grand parade.”

  Zane smiled and waved his hand. “Hi, Petey!” he called.

  “Hi, Tex! Enjoy the ride with Miss Brighton!” Petey yelled.

  “I will!”

  Billie glanced over at Zane and noticed he appeared less upset, although he didn’t seem as happy as he’d been earlier. In the time it took to try to find a way to express her concerns, they arrived back at Rock and Miko’s home.

  “Thank you for the lesson, Zane. I won’t soon forget it.”

  He nodded once and opened the door, making no effort to tease her or find an excuse to touch her as he usually did. “I won’t forget it either, Billie.”

  Miko and Rock sat on the front porch swing, hands clasped, with Tuffy asleep at their feet. The dog had already made himself at home.

  Billie got out of the car and walked around it to lead Zane through the gate. His arm was stiff in her hand, whereas before he’d been relaxed, eager to be with her.

  “Did you have a good time?” Rock asked and rose to his feet, then pulled Miko up beside him.

  “It was… informative and instructive.” Billie gave Zane a quick look. He remained unusually quiet and a slight frown created a vertical line across his brow.

  “Do you want me to run you into town now or would you rather stay for supper?” Rock asked.

  “If you don’t mind, I should probably head home,” Billie said as they walked up the porch steps. “I can catch the bus if you wouldn’t mind giving me a lift to the stop.”

  “I’m happy to take you all the way home,” Rock said, giving Billie a smile then studying his quiet friend. “If you want, you could ride along, Zane.”

  “No. I’m feeling a little worn out. I better rest awhile.” Zane tipped his head toward her, since she stood with her hand on his arm, and gave her a small, tight smile. “Thank you for coming out, Billie, and spending the day with us. Have a safe trip home.”

  With that, he turned and made his way inside the house.

  Rock watched him go then shrugged and shook his head. “Let me grab my hat and jacket and we can be on our way.”

  “I’ll gather my things, too,” Billie said, following Miko inside and picking up the small overnight case she’d brought with her yesterday that held her toiletries, nightgown, and change of clothes. In spite of Zane’s protests to take his bed, Billie had slept quite comfortably on the couch in the living room. It had been a lovely evening to joke and laugh with Zane, Rock and Miko. They’d enjoyed a delicious breakfast then shared in the time of fellowship that imbued her heart with peace.

  The peace now seemed like a distant memory as she picked up her case and purse, and returned outside. Miko gave her a hug and the dog sat up, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he looked at her.

  Billie set her things on a chair and bent down to pet the dog. “You keep Zane out of trouble, Tuffy. Can you do that, boy?”

  The dog’s tail whopped against the porch floorboards.

  Miko laughed. “I guess we can take that as a yes.”

  Billie smiled and hugged her again. “Thank you so much for having me. It was so kind of you.”

  “Is everything all right with Zane?” Miko asked as they walked down the porch steps and out to the car.

  Billie shook her head. “I’m not certain. One minute he was teasing me and the next he grew quiet. I don’t think he’s ill, but he could be tired. I’m sure my presence has kept him from resting like he should. If he isn’t feeling well when he wakes up from his nap, please call me or Doctor Ridley.”

  “Of course, Billie.”

  Rock held the passenger door open for Billie then set her things in the back seat. He gave Miko a hug and kiss before sliding behind the wheel and they were soon on their way toward town.

  Billie felt a sharp pain in her chest. Despite Zane’s sudden sullenness, she’d left her heart on the farm with him.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Zane feigned exhaustion as an excuse to get away from Billie. When she’d basically told him the reason she wanted to be with him was because she assumed his military career was over, he’d wanted to punch his hand through the dash of Rock’s car.

  What was wrong with that woman? She fought getting close to him when he was healthy and whole, with perfect vision. But now that he was wounded and blind, she wanted to be his little snuggle pup. Well, he wasn’t having it! No, siree!

  If Billie didn’t care about him enough to love him when he was a dashing pilot ready to take on the world, then he sure wasn’t about to let her lay claim to his heart when he was a wounded has-been who’d never fly again.

  Anger surged through his veins. He was angry at Billie. Angry he was blind and helpless. Angry his career had suddenly and unexpectedly ended. Angry Smitty was dead and his crew injured. Angry horrible men existed who made it necessary for America to go to war. He was especially angry at the Japs.

  They’d bombed Pearl Harbor, cutting a wide path of destruction that not only killed his friends, but claimed civilian lives. Japs were the reason his plane crashed. Japs were the reason Smitty was gone. He hoped the men fighting in the Pacific wiped every single one of them from existence.

  His conscience pricked.

  Wrath and vengeance fit him like someone else’s worn shoe or a pair of pants two sizes too small. Uncomfortable. Prickly. Painful.

  He knew his hateful, spiteful feelings were wrong. Feelings like that led to bitterness and destruction, desolation and anguish. Determined not to let his mind or spirit go to such a dark place, to go down that nightmarish road, Zane slid off the bed and fell to his knees, spending a long time in prayer. When the storm blazing in his soul quieted, he sat on the edge of the mattress, introspective.

  Zane was no idiot.

  He loved his military career, but had no desire to be at war. War was a terrible, monstrous thing that left behind so much irreparable grief and devastation. But by golly, he’d do his part to serve, to keep the country he loved protected and the people there safe.

  Why couldn’t Billie understand that? She, of all people, should realize what a soldier was called to do wasn’t always an easy thing. It was certainly never a safe thing.

  He was still so mad at her he wanted to paint her back porch bright red. And if she’d been there at the moment, he might have just turned Billie over his knee and got the job done.

  Instead, he propped his elbows on his knees and tried to think calming thoughts. Like a flock of hungry buzzards, his mind kept coming back to feast on his irritation with Billie.

  Zane loved her so much. He was man enough to admit the truth. He’d loved her since the day he’d stepped into the hospital and seen her standing there. She was beautiful, of that there was no doubt. But he loved her spunk and sass, the way she took on the world without a care to her own safety, focused on those that mattered to her. He’d witnessed her selflessness, her willingness to go the extra mile for others.

  It had been an enlightening experience to be among the men she nursed, particularly those in room seven. Zane couldn’t see her in action, but he felt the genuine affection she held for “her boys” as she called them. She came in early, stayed late, and ran around in her precious hours off hunting up candy bars, magazines, or other treats that might brighten the day of one of the wounded men. Jimmy had told him how he’d been scraping against death’s door when Billie brought him a candy bar that tasted like home. Whether it was the candy or the fact she’d spent an entire morning tracking it down, Jimmy turned a corner in his recovery and never looked back.

  Generally, he could tell the moment Billie entered the room not because of the faint teasing hint of her perfume, but because of the feeling among the men when she was there. They relaxed. They seemed happier. Settled. Peaceful.

  The way the whole bunch of patients talked about Billie — like she was a cross between a saint, a pin-up girl, and their favorite childhood friend — made Zane s
o jealous he sometimes battled the urge to turn into a rampaging cavedweller and flatten them all.

  Then the sane part of his brain would kick in and he’d realize what a blessing she was to the men in the hospital. She badgered them, pushed them, nursed them, made them laugh, brightened their days, and gave them a reason to look forward to tomorrow.

  His fury toward her began to ebb. In her own way, Billie served her country with every bit as much dedication and honor as any man he’d known in the armed forces.

  He could understand why she wanted the stability of a man who’d be home every night, one who wouldn’t die in a hail of gunfire, or a cannon blast, or a fiery plane crash. No woman wanted her man going off to war, but thousands did.

  Would his love for Billie, and hers for him, be enough to overcome the obstacles that rested between them? He certainly hoped it would, needed to believe it would, because he couldn’t envision his future without Billie in it.

  There were days her letters were all that kept him going. Filled with her wit and humor, her silliness and sweetness, he’d savored every word until he had them memorized.

  Uncertain what to do about her, about them, he knew he wouldn’t find the answer hiding in his room. He took the sunglasses he’d tossed on the bedside table and slipped them on then went to the kitchen. The room was oddly quiet.

  “Miko?” He waited. Listened. Nothing.

  He walked through the house, saying her name, but she didn’t answer. He stepped out the front door and called her name, but more silence met him. Maybe she accompanied Rock when he took Billie into town, but he doubted it. Miko seemed to prefer to stay at home and he didn’t think they’d leave him completely unattended.

  It rankled that he had to have someone keep watch on him, as though he was a child in need of constant care. Even if he couldn’t see, it didn’t mean he was utterly helpless, although he’d proclaimed as much earlier in the throes of his self-pity about Billie.

  He closed the front door, crossed the porch and made his way down the steps and around to the backyard. “Miko?” he yelled, raising his voice.