One day soon, she’d admit how much she loved him, needed him, and wanted him.
However, tonight was not the time to pursue his wife. Not when his head really did feel like it might explode.
“I better bandage your wound,” she said and disappeared into the bathroom, reappearing with salve and more gauze. After she finished, she brought him aspirin and a glass of water, then watched as he settled into the bed and pulled the sheet up as far as his waist.
She brought a cool cloth and wiped it over his warm brow, bringing welcome relief. He smiled and caught her hand, kissing her palm.
“Talk to me, Miko. Tell me something about you I don’t know.”
She left the cloth on his brow and took a seat beside him. “Do you remember seeing a big sword up in the garden house?”
“Yes,” he said, relaxed by the soothing tone of her voice. “It’s on the wall in the main room.”
“It belonged to my great-grandfather’s great-grandfather. The katana sword is one owned by a samurai, a fighter. The swords were quick to draw and served well in close combat.”
“I knew you came from a warrior ancestry.” Rock grinned sleepily, finding it hard to keep his eyes open.
Miko smiled, brushing her fingers lightly through his hair. “Granddad taught both Tommy and me in the art of using it.”
“What about Ellen?” Rock asked.
She laughed. “Ellen would never, ever pick up a sword. She might stab you with a knitting needle, but not a sword.”
His chuckle made her heart flip in her chest. “I’d like to see you demonstrate what you know sometime.”
“Maybe I will,” she said, thinking how much she would enjoy showing Rock all the traditional things her grandfather had taught her.
“You’re so beautiful, Miko, so brave and wonderful,” Rock murmured as sleep claimed him.
“So are you,” Miko whispered. “I love you so much, Rock Laroux. My heart wouldn’t survive losing you.” Leaning over, she pressed a tender kiss to his lips before leaving him to his dreams.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Rock and Miko barely had a minute to themselves the rest of the week. All the young people who worked for them stayed close, excited to listen to Petey retell the story of defeating Nasty Norman, as the boy referred to the salesman.
Like a celebrity, Petey held court in the produce stand. Animatedly, the youngster shared the story of saving the day until it was time for him to run home to do his chores.
Lucy and John Phillips were so proud of their boy, they nearly floated as they walked, especially when Miko and Rock repeatedly told them they owed Petey a debt of gratitude along with their lives. If the little rascal hadn’t arrived when he had, goodness only knew what Norman might have done.
Pastor Clark heard the news and drove out to make sure Miko and Rock were well. Reassured everything was fine, he promised to keep the incident from her parents, unless they asked about it.
The sheriff arrived the afternoon after the incident with the news that they’d found Norman dead in his jail cell shortly after his arrest.
“The doctor looked him over and decided Ness had some kind of poisoning, although he hadn’t any idea from what. Most likely something he ate. That man was sick in both mind and body before he ever set foot here. Although, the Phillips boy’s skill with a slingshot didn’t do Ness any favors.” The sheriff shook his head as he looked from Rock to Miko.
“No, it probably didn’t,” Rock agreed, walking with the sheriff from the front gate of the house in the direction of his car. “We do appreciate you coming all the way out here to tell us, sir.”
“Well, shoot, I could have telephoned with that news, but I wanted to thank you both for that watermelon. By gosh, it had a wonderful ripe flavor, just like I remember from when I was a boy.” The man grinned at Miko. “I’m almost embarrassed to admit it, but I took the melon into the office with me. My deputies and I ate the whole thing and didn’t share with anyone else.”
“Then we best find another for you take home to your family,” Miko said, smiling as she led the way to the produce stand.
The sheriff left fifteen minutes later with two watermelons, a basket of candy-sweet plums, and an assortment of vegetables.
Another heat wave descended on them, lasting through the next few days as people flocked to the farm, hungry for the fresh produce and gossip about Norman.
The temperature spiked Saturday afternoon. Rock and the boys finished picking the plums and partook of the refreshments Miko had left on the picnic table in the shade, but she remained absent.
Ready for peace and quiet, Rock closed the produce stand early and sent the young people home, promising to pay them for the extra hour and a half they didn’t work.
They left amid cheers with plans to go swimming.
Rock had plans of his own. A scab covered the wound on his head, the headache was gone, and he was tired of waiting for his wife to admit they were meant to be together.
If he had to spend hours pleading with her to listen to reason, he’d do it. If he had to get on his knees and beg her to love him, he’d drop to the ground and grovel.
He didn’t care what it took, but he wouldn’t stop until he held her in his arms as his true wife.
Since the incident with Ness on Tuesday, she’d kept a close eye on him, worried about his health. Frequently, she’d touched him, placing a hand on his back or feeling his forehead for a fever.
While he appreciated her care, what he wanted was her love.
Rock stepped into the kitchen, expecting to find her there, but the house was silent. She wasn’t in the barn, the storage building, the garden, or anywhere in his line of sight.
The only place he hadn’t looked was in the secret garden on the hill. Inspired to do something special, he decided to take a picnic to her for their supper. They could linger in the cool shade of the trees and forget about the rest of the work until tomorrow.
Swiftly formulating a plan to woo his wife, Rock rushed to feed the pigs, milked the cows, filled the water pan in the chicken pen, and locked all the buildings for the night.
Hot and sweaty, he returned to the house and jumped into the shower. He shaved and dressed, then hastened to the kitchen. A large basket soon held ripe plums, wedges of cheese, slices of smoked ham, half a loaf of bread Miko had baked the previous morning, and a handful of chocolate cookies. The remains of the pitcher of tea he found chilling in the refrigerator went into two canning jars that he added to the basket. He tossed in napkins, a few candles, and a book of matches before snatching the quilt they used for picnics off a shelf by the back door and striding out the back gate.
Behind the barn, he followed the stepping stones to the gate and slipped inside. Up the hidden trail he walked, aware of the temperature cooling as he climbed higher.
At the top of the path, he stared at the high fence for a moment before walking inside the open gate. He wandered along the winding path that took him to the weeping cherry tree where they most often picnicked on Sunday afternoons. Quietly, he spread out the blanket and set the basket on one corner of it, then covered the food with a napkin before searching out Miko.
The path he followed led him to the house. He removed his shoes and stepped inside, but Miko didn’t linger in the cool recesses of any of the rooms.
Rock stood in the doorway and glanced around the garden, wondering where she was. The gleam of light glistening off a dark head drew his gaze to the pool below the waterfall.
With a broad grin, he tugged off his socks and jogged to the pool at the base of the waterfall.
Silently, he lingered at the edge, entranced as his wife rose out of the water like a magical, mythical water nymph.
Crystal beads clung to the smooth surface of her bare skin and shimmered in the beams of bright summer light. Eyes closed, she arched her slender spine and tossed back her glorious hair with a carefree grin on her face.
Heat churned in Rock’s belly and zinged through his vein
s with a force he couldn’t deny and didn’t want to control. Determined to claim his wife for his own, he moved to the shallow end of the pool.
Oblivious to the presence of her husband, Miko dove beneath the surface.
Tired of all the noise and busyness of the produce stand and in need of a few moments of quiet, she’d gone up the hill, seeking solitude. The past week, she’d hardly spent any time in the Japanese garden, and today planned to work there for an hour or two, until it was time to make dinner for Rock.
She’d worked for an hour, watering plants and pulling weeds. Overheated and sticky with sweat, she’d decided to take a refreshing swim in the pool beneath the waterfall before returning to the bungalow. She, Ellen, and Tommy used to swim in the pool all the time when they were younger, but Miko hadn’t played in the cooling waters for years.
Safe from prying eyes, she gave no thought to leaving every stitch of her clothes piled on the bank by a seat made of smooth stones. No one but Rock knew about the garden, and he was busy with the boys in the orchard.
She waded into the water, gasping at first as the cooling liquid swirled around her calves. Wading deeper, she immersed her body in the pool, enjoying an unhurried swim.
As she dove and then shot to the surface, she grinned at the warmth of the sunshine on her face and the earthy smells around her. She caught a hint of Rock’s scent — a spicy, woodsy aroma combined with his unique masculine fragrance — but that was impossible. He had another hour of work in the orchard before he would finish for the day.
The scent of him, the rough texture of his skin, and the shining brilliance of his eyes were so firmly embedded in her mind, so intimately familiar to her, she could conjure them on a whim.
Convinced her longing for him filled her senses with his scent and created the tingling wonder of his presence, she again dove into the pool and swam several strokes before heading to the shallow end.
Her feet touched the rocks on the bottom of the pool and Miko continued forward, focused on wringing the water from her hair as she moved to the bank.
Goose bumps broke over her skin, the type that came from being watched. Frightened, she snapped her head up.
Rock stood less than ten feet away from her at the edge of the pool. He wore a pair of khaki trousers with a sleeveless undershirt that accentuated his muscles and tanned skin. That was it. No shoes, no shirt, not even a belt. Miko swallowed hard, unable to drag her eyes away from the breadth of his shoulders and chest.
“How’s the water?” he asked, boldly staring at her sun-drenched body, covered in tiny droplets of sparkling water.
“Refreshing.” Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, but she remained unmoving, fighting the urge to turn and dive back into the water. As much as she’d tried to convince herself otherwise, she wouldn’t continue pretending she didn’t want or need Rock’s love. She craved it, yearned for it, dreamed of it.
While her face grew hot and blushed under his intense perusal, so did the rest of her.
His gaze settled on hers and a puckish smile crossed his face. “It’s time, Miko.”
“Time?” she asked, confused. Thrilled by the fiery light burning in his eyes, she worked to make sense of his words. “Time for what?”
“Time for you to admit you love me.” He yanked the undershirt over his head and tossed it on top of her pile of clothes. “You let me into your secret garden, Mrs. Laroux. It’s far past time to let me into your heart.” He dropped his trousers and stepped out of them, encouraged by the wild look of wanting on Miko’s face. “It’s time…” Rock slipped off the last bit of cotton fabric covering his skin and stepped into the water “… for this ridiculous farce that you don’t really want to be my wife to come to an end. You have sixty seconds to tell me no, Miko. Otherwise, I’m going to make this marriage one you can never annul.”
He moved toward her until they stood a foot apart knee-deep in the pond, his skin so hot he thought it might catch fire, hers cool from the water. Admiration mingled with love, desire with hope, as they stared unabashedly at each other.
“Rock, I…” Miko couldn’t think. Not with him so close, not with her dreams within reach. She needed to tell him no, to remind him they’d agreed to a marriage in name only.
They had both agreed to it, hadn’t they?
With the heat of his body enveloping her every bit as much as his tantalizing scent, all ability to think fled. His clean-shaven jaw practically begged for her lips to taunt it, taste it.
“Thirty seconds, wife of mine.” Rock took one step closer, his smile enthralling as he reached out and traced the shape of her lower lip with his index finger.
“But, Rock, we… I…” Miko didn’t know why she even pretended to protest. She wanted to close her eyes and yield to whatever Rock suggested.
“Fifteen seconds, Kamiko.” The husky rumble of his voice sent the butterflies in her stomach into a whirlwind of flight.
His thumb trailed along the delicate column of her neck and slid across her collarbone. He closed the distance between them, wrapping both arms around her and pulling her flush against the hard strength of his body. “Time is up, sweetheart. Any protest?”
“No,” she whispered and closed her eyes, surrendering to Rock, to her consuming love for him.
His first kiss was gentle, a kiss of beginnings. The next was more demanding. The third kiss, full of passion and hunger, made her knees so weak she couldn’t stand.
Rock swept her into his arms and carried her to the blanket beneath the weeping cherry tree. The place where they’d spent hours becoming friends seemed fitting as the place where they would spend hours becoming lovers.
Later, with the moon casting silvery light among the shadows, and stars twinkling like illuminated fragments of glass, Miko rested in Rock’s arms, staring up at the sky, happier and more content than she’d ever been in her life.
“I love you so much, Rock Laroux,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his chest where she rested her head.
He smiled at her, that roguish smile she’d finally come to understand was meant only for her. “And I love you, Kamiko Jane Nishimura Laroux.”
She laughed. “That’s a mouthful, don’t you think?”
“Then I guess I’ll stick with Miko, or sweetheart, or my beloved wife.” Rock kissed her with such tenderness, tears gathered in her eyes. “You know, anytime we want to take a honeymoon, all we have to do is walk up the hill to claim our own little corner of sweet paradise.”
She hugged him tightly, as though she’d never let him go. “I’m so glad you didn’t give up on loving me, Rock. I’m sorry I’ve been so stubborn. If this is what we would have enjoyed all summer, why didn’t you give me an ultimatum sooner?”
“You would have told me no,” he said with stark honesty. “Something just felt right about today. In truth, Miko, it has tested my patience almost beyond endurance to be around you, to be so close to you, to be so in love with you, and not do more than hold your hand or kiss your cheek. There were nights I thought I might go mad wanting you.” He kissed her temple. “After the incident with Norman the other day, I knew then I couldn’t live without you. If he’d hurt you, if he’d done anything to you, I don’t know how I would have continued to live.”
“Oh, Rock, how do you think I felt, seeing you walk around the corner of the house with blood streaming down your face? My heart fell to my feet and I thought the world would come to an end until I realized you’d be fine.” She kissed his cheek and made her way down to his jaw. “I wanted you to love me all along. You told me to come to you, anytime, and I almost did one night. I wanted to go to you so badly, Rock, to love you.”
“I know. I watched you.”
Miko raised herself on one elbow and stared at him. “You did?”
He pulled her back down and nuzzled her neck. “I did. Sleep eluded me, as it so often does because of how desperately I want you. I turned on the radio and paced the house, then watched you come to the gate and hesitate. I begged you
to keep coming, even if you didn’t hear the words. But you ran off in a cloud of filmy fabric that made it even harder for me to get any rest. Whatever you wore that night, I’d sure like to see it up close sometime.”
She grinned against his mouth. “I think that can be arranged.”
Their kiss, full of acceptance and anticipation, filled both their hearts to overflowing.
Rock pulled back and cupped her chin. “Whatever the future brings, Kamiko, whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”
“Together,” she repeated. “As long as you’re beside me, I don’t need another thing in this world, Rock. Only and forever you.”
Mafa Chicken
As I included mentions of food in this story, I searched online for recipes from the late 1930s and early 1940s. In particular, I wanted to find “ration recipes” that people used once they had limited supplies of certain items, like sugar.
Eventually, I recalled a box of cookbooks Captain Cavedweller’s grandmother gave me a few years ago. Vaguely, I recalled seeing some older cookbooks in it and crossed my fingers that one of them would be from the World War II years.
I found three “Victory” cookbooks, along with four others from the 1930s. The cookbooks published during the war years have little notes in the margins beside some of the recipes like, “A favorite with the boys at camp,” and, “These cookies travel well and keep well.”
There are also many recipes for selections that can be made “in a jiffy.” For the first time in history, many women worked outside the home and no longer had time to plan or prepare elaborate meals.
One cookbook included tips and ideas like “how to bake a cake with chicken fat” or “extend the flavor of meat with handy minute tapioca.”
In the box of cookbooks was also one titled A Taste of the Orient, a Japanese cookbook published by the Nisei Women’s Society of Christian Service from Grandma’s local Methodist church.
After browsing through that cookbook, I decided to share this recipe with you.
I grew up in an area where there were several Japanese families. In my youthful ignorance, I never gave a thought to the trials the relatives of my school friends had faced during World War II.
Garden of Her Heart (Hearts of the War Book 1) Page 27