She took the seat he offered and dropped her chin. He lifted her chin, removed her glasses, and looked into her eyes. She squinted, and he placed them back on. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
“What?”
He grabbed the board and wrote for a long time before handing it over.
I thought your eyes would be brown.
“Sorry to let you down.”
And your hair blond.
“Again, sorry.” She sucked her lip between her teeth. She wanted to know if she was right. He’d had his chance to study her. Moments passed, and she bravely leaned forward. “Well, I knew your eyes would be the color of the ocean.”
He cocked a brow.
“I have an imagination, too.”
His soft chuckle rent the air, and he grimaced.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be funny.” She paused. She had to know. “Did you hear me when I read to you?”
He nodded.
“I always wondered. What did you think of the book? The girls on the floor thought I was crazy for reading you Pride and Prejudice, but who doesn’t love a little bit of Jane Austen?”
He wrote, You know you have to finish it.
“Sure. I have it in my bag. After my rounds are over, I’ll come back and read.” She frowned. “I really don’t need to read it, though. I mean, there is nothing wrong with your eyes, right?”
He closed his eyes and squeezed them tight. When he opened them, she saw the humor there.
“I see how it is.” She shook her finger at him. “I’ve got your number, Jack.” She stood. “I’ll see you later.”
Her heart leapt in her chest as she left the room and sent a parting glance over her shoulder. Things were finally looking up.
Chapter Five
“That’s great. Just a few more steps. You can do it.” Richard coaxed him across the dual beams.
Sweat covered his brow, and he bit his lip so hard he tasted blood. The intense concentration needed to walk continued to surprise him. Babies who could barely talk could dance around on their spindly legs, but he couldn’t make it ten feet.
He reached the other side and plopped into the waiting wheelchair.
“That was much better. That Chance-guy must have given you some pep talk. I have to be honest, I didn’t think you would ever snap out of it.”
Jack wiped his face with a towel and gritted his teeth. The so-called greatest physical therapist on the east coast lacked in bedside manner.
“I’ve already recommended you be sent to a rehab facility. Of course, it won’t be immediate.”
The words drifted away as Jack understood Richard’s meaning. Leave the hospital? How could he? Raylyn was here. She came in every afternoon to visit, whether she worked that day or not. No, he couldn’t leave. He would just have to stop improving.
Carlos escorted him to his room, talking a million miles a minute. Jack failed to hear a word as his mind was preoccupied with his own plight of how to stay at the hospital and not be moved away from Raylyn.
Carlos helped him into bed and plumped his pillows. Finally the words the man spoke entered Jack’s brain.
“…my Margaret is a tiny thing. I just don’t know what we’re going to do. The baby is so big. They think it might get stuck. And Margaret doesn’t want to be cut. I just can’t make her understand.”
Jack wrote on his board. You’re having a baby?
“Oh, no. My wife, Margaret, she is having the baby. I know this, beyond a doubt, because she is so good at telling me.”
Jack suppressed his laughter as he scribbled, You can’t get her to understand what a C-section is?
“No. I’ve tried, but she is so afraid. Do you have an idea how to help her?”
Jack thought, tapped the marker to his chin then wrote, Raylyn.
“You mean the new night nurse?”
Jack nodded.
“You think she will help me to talk to Margaret?”
Again, he nodded.
“Very well, I will speak with her.” Carlos stopped at the entryway and faced him. “Thank you.”
Jack smiled.
After Carlos left, Rodney Hayes, his overly talky roommate, was escorted by his family to an outside courtyard. The afternoon was punctuated by silence and brief snippets of television news.
Commercials rolled across the screen. Father and mother held hands while their rambunctious children skipped and smiled happily.
Jack faced the window. He hadn’t seen his family since his father, Jeb Williams, had expressly forbade him from joining the military twelve years earlier.
Jack had graduated from high school. His proud family had waited in the crowd for him to walk across the stage and receive the piece of paper that would lead to his future. He remembered the day like it was yesterday…
“Guess you’re ready for college now.”
“I don’t know, Uncle Joe.”
“You don’t? Why that’s crazy talk. You know after your momma died Jeb put all that money away so you could go and make something of yourself. He wants a better life for you than he had. You can’t tell me you’re going to disappoint the old man.”
“I don’t plan on disappointing him. I just plan on not going to college.”
Uncle Joe shook his head and stalked away. Aunt Joleen was next in line to congratulate him and discuss his future. Her similar reaction to his decision against college wasn’t promising.
“Not go? What do you mean? Why, you are the first Kentucky kin that made good-enough grades to go to some fancy, highfalutin college. If you don’t go, I don’t know who will. Then there’s the matter of your father’s heart. Why, I reckon it will be done-broken over your decision.” She left, ranting and muttering.
Jack felt only a tiny pang of guilt. Uncle Joe and Aunt Joleen had to be exaggerating. He couldn’t be their only hope for a college graduate.
He forced himself to ignore their concerns. Surrounded by a gang of his friends, he didn’t see Uncle Joe drag his father to his side until it was too late.
“Talk some sense into this boy, Jeb. He thinks he’s going to skip out on college.”
His father looked at him, his eyes wide. “What?”
Jack tried to take his father some place private, but he wouldn’t budge.
“I ain’t goin’ anywhere. You tell me right now what’s going on.”
His friends looked at him. The guys he’d shared his military dreams with gave him a thumbs up, and Jack spilled the beans. “I’ve joined up.”
“What?” came his father’s hoarse reply.
“I’ve enlisted. I’m joining the military…”
A horn blared on the television, announcing a news alert and breaking his reverie. Jack sighed. The wound felt fresh. From the moment he’d announced his intentions, his father had stopped speaking to him. They’d passed each other in the hallway or had sat together at the dinner table, but hadn’t spoken. The day he’d been set to leave home, Jack had stood at the door. His father had lain in his recliner with his feet propped up, watching some comedy rerun. He hadn’t said a word as the door had slapped shut behind Jack.
A friend had driven him to the station, and he’d boarded a bus to start his new life, never once looking back.
He folded his hands in the sheet and twisted the fabric.
“Mr. Williams, how are you this evening?” came Raylyn’s beautiful voice.
He reached to swipe away a tear, but he wasn’t quick enough. Raylyn rubbed a tissue gently across his cheek. He caught her hand and held it to his face. She sat on the bed and let him hold her.
Minutes passed, and he released her and grabbed his board. How are you today?
“I think I should be asking you that question. Are you in pain? Do you need something? Richard commented on how well you’re doing in therapy, but maybe you’re pushing yourself too hard.”
He shook his head. Everything was better now that she was here.
She studied her hands. She lifted her chin, and a single tear escaped from her e
yes. “I should be happy for you.” She sniffed and swiped at her damp cheeks.
He cocked a brow. What was she crying about?
She shrugged and added, “Richard thinks you’ll be ready for a rehab facility soon.”
He frowned. Why did the therapist keep telling everyone his business? He fisted his hands.
“I won’t get to see you as much as I am now, but I can still visit. In fact, I think I can work out my schedule so I have time to volunteer there.”
His heart soared, and his lips twitched upward into a grin.
She smiled. “I’m glad to see you like the idea.”
He wrote, Very much.
She squeezed his hand. It was one of the happiest moments of his life.
****
Raylyn settled in the cafeteria booth and opened the newspaper. Pictures depicted the smiling faces of the newly married. She flipped to another page and skimmed the words. Bored with reading about the latest fashion trends, she pulled out the funnies.
“Raylyn, how have you been?” asked Nancy as she settled in the bench seat across from her.
Raylyn folded the paper and laid it on the table. “I’m good.”
“I heard your boyfriend will be moving on soon.”
“What?” asked Raylyn, shifting in her seat and sucking on her lower lip.
“Oh, girl, don’t deny it. Everyone in the hospital knows you’ve got a thing for Staff Sergeant Jack Williams. Why, half the women on the floor were drooling over him while he was in a coma. Mind you, if they’d believed the fellow was going to wake up, they would have been reading to him just like you.”
“I—I—”
“Listen, word is they’re moving him to a rehab facility. Does that mean you’re leaving, too?”
“I’m not leaving the hospital.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it. When he moves on, I want you to come back and work for me. Gerty has gotten the big head since I let her borrow you, and I can’t stand her gloating any longer. Besides…”
Nancy continued, but Raylyn stopped listening. So it was official; they were moving Jack. How soon would he have to go? What would she do when he left? If she returned to the severely wounded floor, then her workload would increase, and she wouldn’t have as much time to visit him.
“I guess I better get back. I can’t tell you how much we miss having you.”
Raylyn nodded. Nancy left, and Raylyn rushed upstairs. Room lights had been doused. She approached Jack and Rodney’s room. Rodney snored softly as she slipped past. At the edge of the curtain, she snuck a peek at Jack.
Moonlight slipped through the parted curtain, highlighting his features. His face relaxed in sleep. Raylyn moved closer. Involuntarily, she stroked his cheek, and he turned into her touch.
Still asleep, he spoke hoarse, raspy words. Bracing her hands against the bed, she leaned over and placed her ear close to his lips.
He grimaced as he forced the repeated words past his lips. “I lo—y—, ab, I lov—y—, aby.”
She leaned back and clenched her jaw. What was he saying? It sounded like “I love you, Abby.” Could he be talking about someone? Someone he hadn’t told her about? Someone he loved?
Jack twisted his head and sighed. Raylyn slowly stepped backward and fell into the plastic chair. The words he’d spoken had been garbled, but there was no mistaking the facts. He’d just declared his love for someone, and it wasn’t her.
****
Jack woke. Fresh waves of sunshine drifted in through the window. Memories of dreams drifted on the edges of his mind, and he rubbed his sleep-filled eyes.
In his dream, the farm had looked just like he remembered. The old two-story whitewashed house needed a fresh coat of paint. The barn frame sagged ever so slightly on one corner. The chickens ran loose in the yard. Fence line surrounded the property, keeping in the cows, horses, and the lone mule his father had refused to get rid of.
Jack smiled at the memories. The best part of living on the farm had been curling up on the porch swing with his favorite cat in his lap and stroking her tabby fur. She purred, and his heart had soared. He felt like he’d come home.
Depression set in as he looked around at his bleak reality. Truth was, he might never return to the farm. Had the military contacted his father when he’d been injured? Hard to say.
After the way his father had behaved about his decision, Jack had struck all information about his family from his record. As an emergency contact, he’d listed 911.
He remembered the records secretary cocking her brow and peering over her granny glasses at him. He’d expected her to make him change it, but she’d filed the paper, and he’d heard nothing else.
In retrospect, having a family member listed might have been a good idea. No matter how mad his father had been about his decision, Jack knew it was because he loved him and wanted only the best for him. The old man would be devastated if he found out too late that his only son had died.
Jack ran his hand through his hair. His stint in the military hospital had been good for his hair. It had grown out to a normal length, and he liked the way it felt when Raylyn combed it.
Thinking about the nurse brought a smile to his lips. Wonder what she was up to? This was her day to work so he was sure to see her. His smile broadened. He needed to do something for her. Maybe order her some flowers.
The money he’d received after Uncle Joe had passed sat in a bank account, growing interest. Investors had taken care of it while he’d been in the military, and he had a nice sum tucked away to carry him through. Other soldiers hadn’t been so lucky. Their military pay was all they had.
Knowing he had money waiting for him had allowed him to be more generous with his own salary, and he’d donated every penny over his expenses to the Wounded Warrior Project.
Jack wrote down everything he wanted to say on a notepad and laid it beside him on the bed. Carlos arrived, and he handed him the paper. Phone in hand, Jack dialed a local flower shop. Someone answered, and he put the phone on speaker. Jack pointed at Carlos.
The orderly read. “I need two-dozen roses with greenery, so green it looks like a field of emeralds, sent to Raylyn Morrison at Grace Community Military Hospital.”
A male voice snickered. “Got it bad, don’t you?”
Carlos expressed confusion, and Jack answered. “Yes.” His throat burned, and tears filled his eyes.
“When do you want them to arrive?”
“Soon.”
His voice began to give out, and Carlos read the remaining details for the card and helped settle the payment information. Finished with the order, Carlos rolled him to the therapy room.
It was going to be a good day.
****
The staff gathered around the nurses’ station. Gerty lifted her chin in recognition and shooed the ladies from the counter.
“Raylyn, come see.”
She placed her purse on the counter. Gerty stood beside a huge bouquet. They looked like roses, only the middle one was a light pink, surrounded by a circle of yellow and edged in green. Glittery greenery surrounded the flowers, and tiny plastic emeralds hung from their stems.
“Wow, that’s beautiful.” Raylyn sniffed, the heady aroma tickling her nose. “Who are they for?”
“You!” Gerty smiled.
Raylyn pointed at herself. “Me? But who, I mean, who sent them?”
“Oh, like you don’t know,” said Megan, another nurse on the floor.
“I don’t know.”
Gerty practically jumped up and down with glee as she shouted, “Read the card! We’re dying to see if we’re right. By the way, I hope you don’t mind that we have a pool going.”
Raylyn blinked and shook her head while she opened the envelope. Her heart caught in her throat as she drew out the card.
To my dearest Raylyn and the next chapter in my life, I’m so glad to have met you. Jack.
“Well? Who is it from? Tell us. Come on, you can’t keep us in the dark.” Megan tried to snatc
h the card.
Raylyn didn’t respond and shoved the card in her smock pocket.
The nurses groaned. “You have to tell us. We’re dying to know.”
Raylyn restrained her smile. Maybe she had been wrong about what Jack had mumbled in his sleep. And who could blame someone for sleep talking? People can say anything in that state.
She opened her mouth to tell her curious onlookers. “It’s from—“
“Excuse me?”
The interruption came from behind, and Raylyn twirled around to face the newcomer. She had light-blond hair. Her bronze skin matched the color of her brown eyes. Raylyn gulped as she said, “Yes?”
“I’m Tabitha Pace. I’ve come to see Jack Williams.”
The world seemed to crash in on her. The words Jack had muttered in his sleep. His expectations of her looks: brown eyes and blond hair. Now it all made sense. He had never been thinking about her, he’d always been thinking about this woman — Tabitha.
Raylyn covered her mouth and stifled a sob as she grabbed her purse and raced from the floor.
Chapter Six
Two years later…
Jack entered the community center meeting room and took a seat in the back row. Rory Chance stood at a podium.
“Welcome once again to the weekly meeting of Wounded Soldiers. All of us are the same, but different. We all have a story of loss to tell, but in the end, we are all seeking the same thing, a way to move on. I hope by being together each of us can assist the other in finding his way.”
Rory took a seat. Various people told their stories and received advice from others in similar situations. Jack crossed his legs and studied the stitching on his black cowboy boots. The stories were gut-wrenching. Men who had not only lost their legs and arms, but also their wives. Women who had lost their husbands and their homes. There seemed to be no end to the sadness and misery.
The meeting ended with prayer, and the crowd dispersed. Jack stayed in his seat and waited to be noticed.
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