Garden of Her Heart (Hearts of the War Book 1)

by Shanna Hatfield

  If he trusted his instincts and heart, he could rest assured that Miko would soon be his.

  Anger fueled each step as Miko trudged up the hill. She waited until Pastor Clark went outside with Rock to escape out the back door.

  Humiliated by the pastor practically insisting she marry Rock, she needed time to think. Alone. Without Rock’s alluring presence sending her thoughts into a jumbled mess.

  The day with him had been marvelous. As had become their habit, they’d spent the afternoon in the secret garden, enjoying one another’s company. Dinner had been pleasant and companionable. After the meal, as they’d sat in the living room listening to the radio, Miko had paid far more attention to Rock than she had the blanket she crocheted. If her fingers hadn’t known the pattern as well as her mind, she most likely would have had to tug out every stitch she’d added to the baby blanket.

  Long legs stretched out before him, Rock lounged in the chair with one of her grandfather’s gardening books. Tan, tapered fingers appeared so big and strong against the parchment of the book’s pages. The soft cotton shirt he wore only accented the breadth of his shoulders and width of his chest.

  She’d forced her gaze away only to find him standing in front of her with an indefinable look in his eyes. They appeared darker than she’d ever seen them and were filled with a warmth that settled around her like welcome sunshine on a storm-clouded day.

  When he took her hands in his, pulling her to her feet, she thought perhaps he wanted to show her something outside. Astounded when he took her in his arms and started dancing with her, Miko couldn’t recall the last time she’d danced with anyone.

  Rock’s arm around her back with his other hand holding hers gave her an intense feeling of security and love. It was insane to harbor any thoughts that he could own amorous intentions for her, but part of her wished he did.

  The moment the song ended, she’d expected him to pull away and offer a teasing comment. She hadn’t imagined he’d keep dancing. And she’d certainly never dreamed he’d kiss her so tenderly it would make her heart ache before skittering into a frenzied beat as he held her closer and deepened the fervent exchange.

  Miko had kissed several boys and men since her parents had allowed her to date. Not one of them had made her toes tingle and her insides feel as though they might combust from heat. It was a good thing Pastor Clark arrived when he did. Goodness only knew what might have happened if he hadn’t.

  She changed into her nightdress and opened the bamboo blinds over the window, allowing more of the night breeze to puff into the room. Fatigued, her mind whirled as she tried to relax against the crisp white sheets of her bed. Long into the night, she considered the options, wondering why Rock had kissed her and if he truly cared about her.

  Her dreams of being in his arms, of knowing his kisses, were even more wonderful than she’d imagined. What if he really would marry her? Would he someday come to care for her as much as she already loved him?

  Uncertain, afraid, and yet excited, Miko finally drifted into a restless sleep.

  Chapter Twelve

  Miko dried the last of the breakfast dishes, cocking her head to the side as she listened to the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. Curious, she wondered where Rock planned to go. Instead of dwelling on the possibilities, she turned her attention to her morning tasks. Hands buried in a mound of bread dough, she kneaded air into the yeasty lump when Rock appeared in the kitchen, dressed in his navy suit.

  Surprised by his attire, her gaze traveled from the top of his still-wet, sun-streaked hair to the toes of his polished shoes. “Going somewhere?” she asked. Normally, he took the eggs, butter, and cream to town on Tuesday, purchased whatever groceries and supplies they needed, and returned home with a treat for lunch, like a hamburger or a sandwich from the diner.

  Since it was Monday, she didn’t have the butter churned for tomorrow’s delivery. She wondered where he was headed looking so dapper.

  Neither of them mentioned Pastor Clark’s visit the previous evening. The tension crackling between them, though, confirmed that thoughts of his proposal hung heavy on both their minds.

  “I have several errands I need to see to today. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone. It might be this afternoon before I make it back.” Nervous, Rock twirled his fedora in his right hand. “Would you mind if I drive your car? It’s such a nice day out, I’d like to give it a spin.”

  “Be my guest,” she said, smiling at him over her shoulder. “But if you get in trouble for speeding, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  He chuckled, then sobered. “Will you be fine here by yourself?”

  Miko scoffed. “Of course. It isn’t like you haven’t left me alone before. I’m not a child, Rock. I can take care of myself.” She returned her attention to punching down the bread dough. If she did so with more force than was necessary, she hoped he wouldn’t notice. The idea that he viewed her as a child in need of his babysitting greatly irked her.

  He dropped his hat on the counter and stepped behind her, wrapping his right arm around her waist and pulling her against his solid form. His warm, minty breath brushed over her ear as he leaned down. “I would never, ever think of you as a child, Kamiko. Most definitely a beautiful, alluring woman, but never a child.”

  Involuntarily, she felt a delighted shiver trail through her and she leaned against him, leaned into his strength. Afraid if she spoke, she’d expose her true feelings for him, she took a deep breath, inhaling his masculine scent combined with a hint of woodsy spice from his shaving lotion.

  For several heartbeats, they stood that way, her hands dripping flour and dough while he held her. If it wasn’t for the mess on her hands creating an even bigger mess on the floor, she would have stayed there all day.

  Finally, Rock dropped his hand and stepped back. “Be a good girl and I’ll bring you a treat,” he teased with a playful wink.

  “Oh, run your errands and get out of my kitchen,” she said, motioning with an elbow toward the door.

  “I’m going.” He lifted his hat from the counter, then paused. Gently, he cradled her chin in his hand, tipping her head up and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “Bye, Miko.”

  “Bye,” she whispered. Slowly opening her eyes, she watched him hurry out the door.

  Rock forced himself to walk out to the storage building and get in the car before he raced back inside the house and confessed the depths of his love.

  All night, he had tossed and turned as he pondered marriage to Miko. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he wanted to be her husband.

  Perhaps with a little coercion, she’d come around to his way of thinking and agree.

  Rock drove to the little grocery store where he traded the butter and eggs for the things they couldn’t grow or didn’t have at the farm. He greeted Mr. Ross, then filled a box with food to take with him to the assembly center. He set it on the backseat of the car next to a box he’d filled with the choicest produce from the farm that morning.

  Anxious, he drove to Portland and out to the assembly center. Each time he visited the family, he brought them letters from Miko and left with letters they’d written to her in his pockets.

  This morning, he hadn’t told her where he planned to go because he wanted the visit to remain confidential between her family and him.

  At the gate, the guard waved in greeting.

  “Good morning,” Rock greeted, carrying the two boxes of food he’d brought along.

  “Morning, Captain Laroux,” the guard said, giving the items a perfunctory glance. He snitched one strawberry and motioned for Rock to step inside.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to speak to Mr. Nishimura and Mr. Yamada before the women and Tommy join us. Is that possible?” Rock asked.

  “Sure thing,” the guard said, motioning for a sentry to approach him. While the young man went to find the two men, Rock set the boxes down on the picnic table where he usually visited with Miko’s family and waited. He
dropped his hat on the table and paced back and forth, practicing the speech he’d revised fifty times in his head that morning.

  Jack and Shig hurried out of the building, uncertain why they’d been singled out until the sentry pointed to where Rock waited.

  “Captain Laroux!” Jack said, walking over with an extended hand and a friendly smile.

  Rock shook his hand and then took the one Shig offered. “Good morning, sirs. How does this day find you?”

  “Well enough, I suppose,” Shig said, eying the boxes of food with interest. He lifted a tomato the size of a baseball from the box and held it up, admiring the bright red, unblemished skin. His gaze lifted to Rock’s. “I couldn’t have done any better myself.”

  “Glad to hear that, sir. But you’re the one who prepared the ground and planted the seeds. I’m just there to take care of it. Besides, I’ve got a good helper.”

  “How is your helper?” Jack asked with a smile.

  “She’s very well, sir. In fact, Pastor Clark paid a visit last evening. It was nice to meet him.” Rock sat on the hard wooden bench after the other two men were seated. “He had some interesting things to say.”

  “I’m sure he did,” Jack said, grinning at his father-in-law before turning back to Rock. “But what brings you here today with this abundance of good food?”

  Rock dropped his voice to a whisper so the guard wouldn’t overhear and looked Miko’s father square in the face. “Sir, I don’t know how else to say this other than blurt it right out, but may I please have your permission to marry your daughter?”

  “I see.” Jack leaned back, his face an unreadable mask. He remained silent for so long, Rock wanted to squirm on his seat. Finally, the man placed his forearms on the table in front of him and met Rock’s gaze.

  Rock expected him to demand an inventory of reasons he’d be a good husband or a list of things he admired about Miko.

  Instead, her father stared at him and asked a single question. “Describe Miko in one word.”

  “One word, sir?” Rock asked, confused.

  “Yes. If you summed up everything about her in one word, what would it be?” Jack’s face remained impassive as he waited for Rock’s answer.

  Taken aback by his request, Rock’s thoughts splintered in a hundred directions. Only a few seconds passed before the word that floated through the maelstrom in his head gained clarity. “Hummingbird.”

  Baffled, both Shig and Jack stared in confusion.

  “Explain, please,” Jack said.

  Rock took a deep breath. “Before I was wounded, I was stationed in Trinidad, off Venezuela’s coast in the southern Caribbean. The area is a big melting pot of combined cultures — Creole, East Indian, Chinese, African. A great diversity of flowers and shrubbery grow there, and it offers more than four hundred different species of birds. But do you know what they call the island?”

  At the men’s interested looks, Rock continued. “Land of the Hummingbird. While I was there, I saw many of them. The islanders believe hummingbirds are symbols of all that is good and they carry joy wherever they go. Hummingbirds are fearless, determined, adaptable, and flexible. They possess the courage of a mighty lion and the magic of mythical fairies. Hummingbirds have boundless energy and endurance. Those little birds can make the most difficult journey seem like a simple matter, and they are loyal, devoted to the garden they claim as their own. They are fiercely independent, but those who accept that can long enjoy the beauty and wonder of those amazing little winged fellows.”

  Jack’s mouth quirked upward and he bit back a smile. “So you’re saying Miko is like a demented bird who wants only to suck the sweetness out of life?”

  “No, sir, that’s not what I meant at all!” In his nervous state, Rock missed the teasing looks exchanged by the two older men. “She’s a swell girl, one full of life and vibrancy, and intelligence. She’d make any man a wonderful wife.”

  Shig waggled his eyebrows and smirked. “We’re just kidding with you, Rock.”

  The hunch in his shoulders slid away and he noticed the smiles on the faces of Miko’s father and grandfather. “Will you please give me permission, sir?”

  Jack nodded. “I will. In fact, I was planning on it, even before you asked, but I wanted to hear what you had to say.”

  “You answered well,” Shig said, beaming at him. “Someday, you must tell Miko about this moment so she can share it with your children. It will make a good story.”

  Relieved her father and grandfather accepted him and pleased he had their blessing to marry Miko, Rock wanted to jump to his feet and shout. Rather than surrender to the desire, he slid the box of produce closer to the two men. “I’ll get in touch with Pastor Clark and make arrangements.”

  “That’s good,” Jack said, standing and shaking Rock’s hand. He released it and turned as his wife, mother-in-law, and son approached.

  Rock stayed for another twenty minutes, catching them up on news of the farm before he shook hands again with Shig and Jack. “I’ll take good care of her, sir,” he whispered to Miko’s father as they ambled toward the gate.

  “I know you will. I wouldn’t trust her safekeeping to anyone else.”

  Rock tipped his head to her family, then strode out the gate. He ventured into Vancouver to the courthouse, discovering both he and Miko had to appear in person to acquire a marriage license at least three days before the date of the ceremony.

  Armed with the information he needed and the form they could fill out ahead of time, he left and headed back to Portland. He completed several errands, then drove to an area the locals referred to as Chinatown.

  He entered a shop he’d been in a few times with his father, glad to find it still open for business.

  A bowlegged little Chinese man, long hair braided in a queue down his back, stood behind a worn counter at the center of the store. The aroma of spices in the air blended with the smell of fresh fish.

  “Hello,” Rock said, stepping up to the counter and smiling at the man. Unless things had changed drastically in the last few years, the shopkeeper claimed not to know a lick of English.

  The man said something in his native language and waved a hand around his shop. Rock pointed to a case full of ice where the fish selections of the day were on display. Salmon, trout, and sturgeon sat alongside other seafood he didn’t recognize.

  Rock pointed to a large fish and held up two fingers.

  The old man wrapped his selections in paper and set the fish on the counter. Rock added a few things to his purchases he thought Miko might appreciate. In the time she’d been cooking for him, she’d only served two meals that he considered authentically Japanese, and they were both delicious. One meal included marinated chicken she cut into small pieces and fried in a pan of hot lard. The other was made from a jar of canned beef she found in the basement and thinly sliced cabbage.

  When Rock was ready to pay, he pointed to the items the old man set into a box for him. “How much?”

  The old man said something Rock didn’t understand. The store owner liked to barter. The more animated the bartering, the more he enjoyed it. Rock rattled off a number half of what he thought his purchases were worth.

  The store owner huffed, crossed his arms over his thin chest, and spoke so fast Rock wondered how the man’s tongue didn’t tie itself in knots.

  “Is that so?” Rock said, feigning insult. “Well, I’ll have you know my radio sprouts peaches and the cows give purple milk.”

  The shopkeeper waved his hands in the air, then thumped the counter, shouting something that sounded like pure gibberish.

  Rock scowled and shook his finger at the man. “I bet you a dollar my sweet petunias are tastier than your pickled polecats any day of the week.”

  The bartering continued for several minutes, with Rock tossing out nonsensical statements since he had no idea what the old man said for the most part. He’d learned a few Chinese words and from what he could pick out, the man spewed silliness, too.

  A
t last, Rock took out his wallet and handed the store owner what he felt was more than a fair price for the goods plus a little extra.

  The old man grinned, showing spaces where teeth were missing. “Come again,” he said in perfect English right before Rock walked out the door.

  Entertained, Rock replayed the lively interchange as he headed home.

  If someone had told him six months ago he’d be the owner of a farm, selling produce in a roadside stand, and about to beg a Japanese girl to marry him, he’d have cuffed them upside the head and called them loony.

  Now, though, when he thought of home, a vision of Miko sitting beneath a weeping cherry tree filled his mind.

  She had become his home, and he intended to do everything in his power to make sure she remained by his side.

  No matter what the uncertain future might bring, he wanted to spend it with her.

  The first thing he noticed when he pulled up behind the house was the open doors of the storage building. The second thing was that the three pigs rooted in the strawberry patch while Amos and Andy wreaked havoc in the tomatoes.

  Miko was nowhere around.

  “Miko!” he called as he hustled out of the car, tossing off his suit jacket and tie, leaving them on the hood.

  He herded the cows back to their pasture. The gate nearest the garden was wide open. He and Miko never used the gate, so he wondered how it had gotten open.

  It seemed odd both the pigs and cows had chosen to escape at the same time. He would have blamed it on a childish prank, but Petey knew better than to do such a thing. The kids who worked for Rock cared too much about their jobs to jeopardize their employment by doing something so foolish.

  “Miko!” he bellowed, hoping wherever she was, she’d help him chase in the pigs. If the greedy rooters hadn’t been making a dandy mess of the strawberries, he would have taken time to run inside and change.

  “Captain?” A frightened little voice called from behind the storage building. “Captain!”