Miko smiled at his joke and he continued. “Well, Zane and I decided to stick together and make it through what they refer to as hazing. The upper-class members give plebes such a hard time, I’ve actually seen it reduce some of the new cadets to tears. They’d get in your face and yell about your buckle not being polished to a high shine or they’d order you to run twenty laps and you had to do it. While some might think their actions cruel, and some of the boys were mean-spirited, the purpose was to level the playing field, to make all the new cadets equal. It also helped us learn valuable lessons. A graduate from the academy survived daily inspections, rigorous training, physical exertions that pushed his body to the outer limits, exacting academic requirements, high standards of personal appearance, and a stalwart code of honor that would not be altered or bent.”
Although the dark sunglasses covered her eyes, Rock felt her perusal as she studied his face. “Did you graduate at the head of your class?”
Her simple question made him want to puff out his chest with pride. He shot her a grin. “No. As a matter of fact, Zane and I both vied for that position. We got so embroiled in our competition, we didn’t notice when a smart aleck named Gilbert Redding raced right past us and took top honors.”
She laughed. “Serves you right.”
“Yes, ma’am, it did.” Rock glanced over at her, pleased to see her relax and enjoy his stories. “The academy trains cadets in a variety of lessons, as you may have gathered from what I shared. Zane grew up on a ranch and excelled at anything that had to do with horses. I’d ridden our farm horses enough that I got by better than most. When we had a rare moment of spare time, Zane shared what he knew about horses. Before long, we were among the top riders. One afternoon, orders came down for our class to practice mounted combat skills. We rode out to the practice field, half of us on one side, the rest on the other. One of the upper-class cadets took it as a personal challenge to cause Zane and me as much grief as possible. When we weren’t looking, he managed to not only loosen the cinches on our saddles, but also stick burrs beneath the blankets. The moment Zane and I swung onto the saddles, the horses bucked and reared to beat the band. With the saddles loose, they slid off and there we were, two idiots, with all our classmates laughing at us.”
“Oh, Rock, that’s awful,” she said, trying to hold back her giggles. “Were you boys injured?”
“Just our pride,” Rock said, remembering how badly he wanted to pop the upperclassman in the nose. At the end of the year, he’d instead thanked him because the trials they’d endured at his hand had helped shape them into good cadets.
“What other things did you learn?” she asked, genuinely interested.
“We had a rigid academic program that included everything from mathematics, chemistry, physics, history and geography to literature, foreign languages, psychology, and constitutional law. Hours were spent in military training. Physical training helped us learn any number of skills. Zane and I had a lot of fun fencing. And our moral and ethics training will serve us well for a lifetime.” He looked over at her and smiled. “My favorite classes were those that began my second year, when they started an Air Corps detachment to familiarize cadets with the construction, types, and capabilities of airplanes. Zane and I both loved to fly.”
“Where is Zane now? Is he in Trinidad?”
Rock shook his head. “No. Zane was stationed at Pearl Harbor. He survived, thank goodness, but last I heard from him, he was headed to a base in the Pacific, although he couldn’t say where. I’m praying he wasn’t one of the casualties we’ve heard about recently, but I have no way of knowing.”
Miko reached out and placed a hand on his leg, a gesture meant to offer comfort. “I’m so sorry, Rock. I’ll keep him in my prayers and hope he is well.”
“Thanks, Miko.” Rock cleared his throat and glanced out the window, staring at the water of the mighty Columbia River as they crossed over it to reach Vancouver. Boats braved the choppy water, heading both up- and downstream.
One of the few things he missed about Trinidad was the beautiful turquoise water. He’d never seen anything quite like it.
Tugging his memories back to the present, he noticed Miko stared out the window, lost in her thoughts.
He turned down a wide street and drove a few blocks, then turned down another before driving around the block and parking on a side street in the shade. After a glance at his watch, he opened the car door and jogged around to the passenger side. He opened it and held out his right hand to Miko, sharing an encouraging smile. “Ready to do this?”
“No,” she whispered, afraid to leave the safety of the car, but aware she had to. She took the hand he offered and stood. As he shut the car door, she pulled the hat brim down farther in the front and adjusted the veiling over her face. She removed the sunglasses and slid them in her handbag, then accepted the arm Rock extended to her.
“You can do this, Kamiko. Just keep your head tilted down and everything will be fine.” He ushered her around the corner of the building and up the steps. Inside, they walked along the gleaming tile of the foyer to a hallway and followed it down four doors. Rock peeked inside the glass window of the door.
Instead of opening it, he took Miko’s elbow in his hand and guided her down the hall.
Baffled, she waited for an explanation.
“When I was here yesterday, the woman at the desk wasn’t overly helpful and seemed about as nosy as a person could be,” he explained as they strolled around the inside of the courthouse. “I happened to hear her mention to another girl in the office she planned to take her lunch break at a quarter past eleven today because she has a hair appointment. I think the girl who’ll be watching the desk then won’t ask too many questions.”
He glanced at his watch. “The old biddy ought to be gone by now. Let’s try again.”
Miko quietly walked beside him and said nothing as he again peered into the office. He pulled open the door and settled his hand at the small of her back, urging her inside.
A fresh-faced young woman smiled as they entered and rose from the desk behind the counter. “Good morning. How may I help you?”
“We’d like to get a marriage license,” Rock said, returning her smile, then casting an adoring gaze Miko’s direction.
“I’d be more than happy to help you.” The young woman lifted a thick black book onto the counter and opened it to a page marked by a frayed brown ribbon. “We’ll need you to fill out a form and enter your names here.” She tapped the book with her finger.
Rock handed her the form they completed before they left the house. The secretary read it and nodded. “I just need to see something with proof of address for each of you.”
From her black handbag, Miko pulled out an envelope and handed it to the woman. “Will a piece of mail do?” she asked in a soft, cultured voice. Rock stared at an envelope addressed to Jane Nishimura.
“Yes, ma’am. That will do just fine.” The girl wrote down the address in the black book then handed it back to Miko. She looked to Rock. “And for you, sir?”
Rock brought a piece of mail he’d received at the farm so he’d have a record of his current address. He also had his birth certificate. The woman glanced at both, entered the farm address, then handed Rock back the birth certificate and envelope. She held out her pen to him. “I need you both to sign here…” she tapped the book again “…and on this form.”
With bold strokes, Rock signed his name, then gave Miko the pen. Her feminine script was every bit as graceful and strong as the woman who wrote on the form. Nonetheless, he hated that she had to sign everything as K. Jane Nishimura.
“We’ve sure had a bunch of soldiers come in with their girls, wanting to get married before they ship out,” the young woman said, smiling at them as she stamped the form. “If you two are in a hurry, you can see Judge Aberlee up on the second floor. You can appeal the waiting period if you show just cause for a rush. Otherwise, you have to wait three days.”
Rock shook hi
s head. “Thank you.”
The secretary shrugged, filled in a date on another form, stamped it, and stuffed it inside an envelope, then handed it to Rock. “That’s the marriage certificate. Today’s date is noted on the certificate. You can plan for your wedding to take place after Friday. The license will expire in sixty-days. Whoever performs the ceremony must sign the certificate and return the form to this office. That’ll be three dollars.”
Rock fished out his wallet and paid her, pocketing the receipt she handed to him. “Thank you.” He tipped his cap to the woman, settled a hand on Miko’s back, and ushered her out the door.
“Happy nuptials!” the young woman called, waving as they left.
Until they sat in the car, neither said a word. Miko slid the sunglasses back on as Rock pulled into traffic.
“By jingo, Miko, we did it!” He slapped the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. “How on earth did you come up with that letter?”
“Two summers ago, I attended a party hosted by the company where I worked. They have offices in Portland, Vancouver, and Salem. People attended from all three offices as well as a number of clients and other guests. One of the clients in attendance took an interest in me. I told him my name was Jane, trying to be evasive. Anyway, he mailed a letter to me at our Vancouver office. I kept the letter because I found it amusing. Sally thought it was hilarious.”
Rock waggled an eyebrow. “May I read the letter when we get home?”
“Absolutely not.” Miko hugged her handbag against her chest. “The client was really nothing more than a boy, a rich one, but a boy all the same. Through flowery prose, he professed his undying love and devotion. Funny, but I didn’t answer the letter and never heard from him again. I suppose he probably found a new girl within a week to lavish with his words of love.”
“Most boys are fickle,” Rock mused. Miko’s weighted silence made him laugh. “Okay, so that also includes many men.”
“Yes, it does.” She leaned back against the seat and sighed in relief. “I was so afraid they’d call the police and have me arrested.” The hand she held out in front of her still trembled. “It may take some time for my heart to stop racing.”
Rock wanted to take her hand and hold it in his, but he couldn’t use his left hand to drive. He planted a swift kiss to her veiled cheek. “I had no idea you were that nervous, Miko. You seemed perfectly calm and poised the whole time. That girl was half-convinced you were some sort of celebrity.”
“No. I assumed she thought I was a widow. Dressed all in black, I certainly look like one.” Miko brushed a speck of lint from her skirt. “Perhaps if a lot of soldiers are coming in for licenses, they don’t ask too many questions. It was a good idea to wear your uniform.”
Rock nodded. “I hoped if any of them saw me yesterday when I was there to get information, no one would recognize me in my uniform.”
Miko remained silent, unwilling to shatter his delusion that a change of clothes would keep him from being noticed. With a fine-looking face like his, and a tall, muscled body to go along with it, she couldn’t imagine any woman who’d seen him forgetting the experience.
In high spirits, they drove into Oregon and headed toward home. Rock veered off the highway onto a road that took them into one of the many small towns around Portland and parked in the far corner of a drive-in restaurant.
“What are you doing?” Miko asked, sinking deeper into the seat and checking to make sure the veil fully covered her face.
“Taking my best girl out for lunch,” Rock said, giving her a broad smile.
Surprised he referred to her as his best girl, she appreciated his words but didn’t think eating in a public place was wise. “What if someone sees me? Isn’t this a little risky?” Miko tipped her head down as a carhop approached.
The girl wore wide-legged blue trousers with a red gingham blouse and a bright red belt. From the corner of her eye, Miko observed the girl had to be a Betty Grable fan, based on the pile of blond poodle curls bouncing on top of her head.
“Hi, soldier,” the girl said. A wad of gum snapped in her mouth as she pulled a pad from her pocket and smiled at Rock. “What can I get for you, handsome?”
Rock placed an order for two hamburgers, French fries, and two sodas.
“Comin’ right up,” the girl said, leaning closer, trying to get a better glimpse of Miko before she flounced back across the parking lot.
“Everything is fine, Miko. Don’t worry so much.” Rock lifted her gloved hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “Have I raved about your breath-stealing beauty today?”
A blush heated her cheeks, hidden from his view by the hat and sunglasses. “You might have hinted at it in passing.”
“In that case, I suppose I should tell you that you look like a queen. If Petey was here, he’d probably say you’re the cat’s whiskers or something along those lines.”
Miko laughed. “That sounds about right.” She studied her hand, held so tenderly in Rock’s. She liked the way their hands fit together, felt together. “I don’t believe I mentioned how splendid you appear in your uniform. It’s no wonder that Betty Grable look-alike was all agog when you gave her our order.”
“All agog? For me?” Rock slapped his hand to his chest. “Surely you’re mistaken. I’m just an innocent little farm boy, out for a day on the town.”
A giggle burst out of her at the way he placed his hands beneath his chin in an angelic pose and rolled his eyes heavenward. “I’m not falling for that nonsense, Rock Laroux.” Playfully she thumped his arm. “There isn’t anything about that statement that’s remotely true.”
“I am a farm boy. You have to give me that one.”
“Okay, but only if you tell me about growing up on the farm in Gales Creek.” Miko plucked at the fingers of her gloves, pulling off first one, then the other. The silver bracelet on her left wrist refracted shimmering prisms of summer sunlight, drawing Rock’s interest.
Without thinking, he reached out and touched it, tracing his finger across the silver links that joined a filigreed oval with a diamond set in the center. “That’s lovely.”
Miko glanced down, wondering if his finger on her wrist would melt right down to her bone. “Papa’s parents gave it to me for my eighteenth birthday.”
Rock moved his hand away and lifted his gaze from her wrist to her face. “You’ve never mentioned them. Do they live around here?”
Sadly, Miko shook her head and fingered the bracelet. “No. They died in an auto accident when I was nineteen.”
“I’m sorry, Miko.” Rock took her hand in his again, bringing it to his lips and giving the back of it a kiss. “At least you have Mr. and Mrs. Yamada. I really like your grandfather.”
“I’m pretty keen on him myself, and Grandma, too. They’ve always been special to me. In fact, they are the reason I’m the only one of my siblings with a Japanese name.”
“How’s that?” Rock asked. He shifted until he leaned with his back against the car door so he faced Miko.
“Mother insisted her firstborn have a thoroughly American name, so she named my sister Ellen Louise. When I came along, she told Papa to choose my first name, but my middle name had to be Jane. He turned right around and asked Granddad and Grandma to choose my first name. Kamiko was my great-great-grandmother’s name.” Miko offered him a saucy grin. “When my brother came along, Mother didn’t give Papa a chance to name him, declaring him to be Thomas Jack. We used to call him Tommy Jack until he entered high school. He threatened to run away from home if we kept referring to him by that name, so we had to stop.”
Rock chuckled, then turned as the carhop approached with their order. She handed them the food and accepted the money Rock gave her, thanking him for the tip.
As they ate, Rock encouraged Miko to talk more about her family. He didn’t want her to notice the way the carhop or the two others working the lunch crowd kept pointing at their car and whispering behind their hands.
Unless the girls possessed some s
ort of magical powers, they had no way of knowing Miko was Japanese. He’d meant what he said about her appearance. She was so beautiful, she nearly took his breath away.
He didn’t know how she appeared so regal and proper as she ate the hamburger and munched a few fries behind the veil of her hat, but she did. She seemed to enjoy the cold soda pop as much as he did. Before they could leave, the carhop reappeared and asked if they needed anything else.
When Rock said no, but thanked her, she thrust her order pad in the window and waggled it in Miko’s direction.
“I’m sure you get asked for autographs all the time, Miss Russell, but will you please sign it for me?” the girl asked with a hopeful expression on her face. “My name’s Ellie.”
Miko took the pad and scribbled, “To Ellie: Best wishes,” followed by a few illegible scribbles, handing the pad back to the girl.
Ellie squealed with delight. “Oh, wait until my friends find out about this. Thank you, Miss Russell. I absolutely loved you in His Girl Friday. It’s one of my favorite movies!”
“Thank you,” Miko said, in a polite, reserved tone, her head tipped down.
The girl raced off and Rock started the car before anyone else came over seeking an autograph.
“Imagine that! I’m about to marry a bona fide movie star and I didn’t even know it. I thought you just looked like one. You’ve been holding out on me, Rosalind.”
Miko giggled as he pulled onto the road. “How could that girl possibly mistake me for Rosalind Russell? We look nothing alike.”
“I don’t know. There might be a slight resemblance through the chin and those kissable lips of yours.” Rock grinned. “But you’re far prettier.”
Garden of Her Heart (Hearts of the War Book 1) Page 17