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Home of Her Heart (Hearts of the War Book 2)

Page 5

by Shanna Hatfield


  Eyes half-closed, she remained in a blissful daze. Finally, the fog cleared and she sat up, acting embarrassed as she tucked loose pins into her hair and moved so she sat with an uncompromising posture in her seat, gaze fastened straight ahead on the movie screen. Not so much as the hem of her skirt brushed close to his leg.

  Klayne thought about reaching out to her, taking her hand in his, but he refrained. He didn’t grow up learning how to act around women. The manners he acquired came from emulating happy couples he’d observed and from a commanding officer who instilled any number of life lessons in him, including the importance of cherishing women. He’d learned to hold open doors, help a lady remove her coat, make sure she was seated before taking a seat, and to stand when she rose.

  Since Klayne had limited contact with females for the most part, he’d had to dredge up memories of everything he’d learned the moment he set eyes on Delaney. She made him want to treat her like a queen.

  Now, he’d just bungled whatever hope he had of continuing their friendship until he left. The stubborn set to her chin and the board-stiff way she sat properly in her seat confirmed he’d crossed over a line. He hadn’t meant to. One look in those lively hazel eyes, one glimpse of the bevy of emotions in them that matched his own, and he’d been unable to think straight.

  The movie ended, the lights came back on, and still Delaney remained silent. Demurely, she pulled on her hat, wrapped the scarf around her neck, then began to slip on her coat. When Klayne tried to hold it for her, she turned to the side and jammed her arms in the sleeves.

  He swallowed back a sigh and tugged on his coat then motioned for her to lead the way outside.

  She didn’t say a word until they stood on the sidewalk in front of the theater. At some point during the movie, it had started to snow. Big fluffy flakes drifted lazily from the night sky like confectioners’ sugar slowly shaken through a sieve.

  “Miss Danvers, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I didn’t intend…” Klayne didn’t know what to say. This was all so new to him. He had no idea what to say to a woman, this woman. Females were emotional, delightful, incredible-smelling, delicate things that generally terrified him.

  A sticky situation like this was why he remained at his bunk reading instead of socializing. Trouble seemed to be the only thing he got for his efforts. Lambasting himself for kissing her during the movie, he held back his astonishment when Delaney placed a hand on his arm, drawing his gaze to her glove-covered fingers.

  “I’m the one who should apologize, Sergeant. I shouldn’t have gotten quite so carried away. You’d think I was in high school for all the decorum I exhibited.” She tossed him a wary glance. “I’m not the kind of girl who goes around necking in public, just so you know. I might be a lot of things, but a…” She glanced around to make sure no one listened. Assured they were alone, she continued. “… a loose woman isn’t one of them. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

  Chapter Four

  Klayne barely subdued a grin. He had all kinds of ideas about the enchanting woman standing beside him. Snowflakes falling on her dark green coat and matching hat created a soft aura around her. When a snowflake landed on her eyelashes and she batted it away, he battled the urge to kiss her right there on the street.

  “I know you aren’t that kind of girl, Miss Danvers.”

  A relieved breath blew out of her, whirling into a frosty tendril floating between them. “May we please pretend I didn’t act like a woman from Miss Clementine’s place a few minutes ago? Can we go back to being friends? You’ll call me Delaney, I’ll call you Klayne, and this horrid stilted feeling will go away. Deal?”

  She held a hand out to him and he took it, giving it a gentle shake. He wondered how a nice girl like her even knew a place like Miss Clementine’s existed. Klayne hadn’t frequented the brothel, but a few of the men he knew at the base availed themselves of the services offered. Klayne had helped two of the young men in his squadron get back to their bunks when they’d had too much to drink and too much fun there. He’d climbed up the “twenty-three steps to heaven,” as many men referred to the second story business, to retrieve his comrades, but thought it was more like ascending steps to the gate of Purgatory.

  Taking his thoughts firmly in hand, he smiled at the woman expectantly looking at him. “It’s a deal, Delaney. Are you still up for dinner?” he asked, hoping she’d say yes.

  “Absolutely. I’m about starved and I know just the place to go.” She looped her arm around his and gave it a slight tug. Together, they strolled down the sidewalk.

  Klayne soon found himself seated in an Italian restaurant where mouth-watering aromas filled the air and made his stomach growl.

  Delaney grinned at him as she lifted her menu. “I’ve yet to eat anything here that isn’t incredible. You are in for a treat.”

  Klayne glanced through the unfamiliar items on the menu and tried to recall if he’d ever eaten in an Italian restaurant. Sure he hadn’t, he looked over at Delaney. “Why don’t you order for both of us?”

  Her left eyebrow shot upward as she lifted her gaze to his. “What do you like?”

  “Everything. I’m not a picky eater. The only things I don’t like are turnips, raw eggs, and okra.”

  “Well, I’ve never seen okra on any menu in town, you won’t find turnips here, and all eggs are cooked, so you’re safe.” She took one last look at her menu then set it aside.

  A waitress approached their table with a smile and a basket of warm bread. “Hey, Dee, what can I get you two?”

  “Hi, Frieda.” Delaney smiled at the young woman and pointed to an item on the menu Klayne couldn’t see. “Two of those please.”

  She looked like she wanted to smack her friend when the waitress kept ogling him. After filling their water glasses, Frieda left, giving Klayne a parting glance over her shoulder.

  “You seem to attract a lot of attention wherever you go,” Delaney said. Her tone held a bit of impatience and annoyance.

  Surely, she couldn’t be jealous, could she? Klayne glanced around the restaurant then shrugged indifferently. He nudged the basket of bread toward her and watched as she poured olive oil in a dish then dipped the bread in it. Mimicking her actions, he broke off a piece of bread and dipped it in the oil before taking a bite. “That is really good.”

  “They’ve been making it that way for the last forty years. The owner’s mother started this restaurant.” Delaney could talk about neighbors and friends, businesses that had been in town for years. Perhaps it would distract her from the way several women continued to toss Klayne interested glances.

  Delaney had never been the jealous type, mostly because she’d never found a man who held her interest for more than an hour or two. But observing women as they studied Klayne made her want to march over to their tables and snatch them all bald headed.

  Mindful of her rising temper, she took a deep breath and slowly released it. “My dad asked me to invite you to join us for church this Sunday. We go to the Christian Church. It’s not far from here.”

  Klayne gave her an apologetic look as he swiped another piece of bread through the oil on his bread plate. “I appreciate the invitation, but I’ll be gone then.”

  “Gone?” Panic welled in her at the thought of never seeing Klayne again. As much as she hated to admit it, she had more than a passing interest in the man. Truthfully, she dreaded the day he’d leave Pendleton, even though she knew he would. With the country heading into war, soldiers like Klayne would be in the midst of it. “You mean… are you leaving for…” She couldn’t quite bring herself to ask if he was heading somewhere dangerous overseas.

  He reached across the table and settled his big, warm hand on top of hers as it nervously plucked at the tablecloth. “I’m on duty out of town for a while, starting Sunday. Maybe we could plan to do something when I get back.”

  Relieved he wasn’t leaving for good, she nodded her head. “I’d like that very much.”

  The waitress de
livered two plates full of steaming lasagna to their table and Klayne glanced at Delaney before cutting into his. “Lasagna? Is that right?”

  “It’s the best you’ll ever taste.” Delaney forked a bite and waited as Klayne sampled his. She could tell by the look on his face he enjoyed it, especially when he hurriedly cut another bite.

  They spoke about the town and places Klayne had visited in Pendleton, which proved to be a short list.

  “While you’re stationed here, you have to go to the woolen mills. It’s fascinating how they weave the colorful Indian blankets,” Delaney said, taking another bite of her meal. Klayne had finished his already and eaten another piece of bread. She wondered how he stayed so trim and lean with as much food as he put away. Judging by his bulging muscles, he probably worked hard enough to burn off any calories he consumed.

  She took one more bite then slid her plate toward him. “Want to finish mine? I’m trying to save room for dessert.”

  Klayne took her plate and ate the last few bites then leaned back. “What’s your favorite dessert?”

  “I love chocolate anything, but I am also quite fond of sweets with berries. It’s like taking little bites of summer.” Delaney waved at Frieda and the girl hurried over to the table. “May we please have two orders of zabaglione?”

  “Sure, Dee. I’ll be right back,” Frieda said with a smile at Klayne then rushed into the kitchen. She soon returned carrying a custard cup in each hand then set them on the table. “Here you go.”

  After the waitress walked away, Klayne lifted a spoon and looked to Delaney. “What is this?”

  “It’s basically custard with berries on top. In the summer, the berries are fresh and so, so good. Right now, all they have is canned, but they are still good.” Delaney waggled her spoon at Klayne’s dish. “Go on. Try it. I promise you’ll like it.”

  Klayne filled his spoon and took a bite. The creamy, smooth custard slid down his throat with a pleasing flavor and slight sweetness. The berries were the perfect contrast. He’d never tasted anything quite like it and was glad Delaney had chosen the custard to finish their meal.

  “What do you think?” she asked, watching his face, attempting to gauge his reaction to one of her favorite desserts.

  He feigned a lack of interest. “It’s okay,” he said, setting his spoon next to his plate.

  Taken aback, she stared at him, flustered. “If you don’t like it, we can order something else. I thought you said you aren’t a picky eater. How can you honestly say that and not like this? It’s amazing and silky, and so good.”

  “I know.” Klayne grinned at her and picked up his spoon again, taking a big bite. “It’s wonderful, Delaney. I’m just teasing you.”

  Her gaze narrowed and she scowled at him before taking another bite of her dessert. “You shouldn’t tease about important things like dessert. Next time, you might not get any.”

  The fact she planned on there being a next time didn’t escape his notice. He hoped there were many next times before he received orders to move on somewhere else. Tonight, with the smells of delicious food mingling with Delaney’s unique, alluring scent, he didn’t want to think about tomorrow. Instead, he wanted to focus on right now, on the woman who’d quickly taken over his heart.

  Klayne knew it was nuts to fall for her, to continue to spend time with her. It would end in heartbreak, but he couldn’t stop himself. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to be right beside her.

  Yet, that would never be a possibility and Klayne knew it. Anxious to shift his thoughts elsewhere, he glanced down at the custard on his spoon. “What did you call this?”

  “Zabaglione. They serve authentic Italian food here. Caterina, the original owner, came to Pendleton from New York. If you believe the local gossip, she was on the run from the mafia and got off the train here to keep from being dragged back to marry a horrid man. Her brother Tony came here, too. He ran an ice business for years before he sold it to his son-in-law. Now, he runs a photography studio. He’s done that since 1900, I think.”

  Klayne offered her an impressed look. “That’s a long time to take photographs.”

  “It sure is, but he’s very good. If you ever want to have your photo taken, go see Mr. Campanelli.”

  “I don’t think I need a photo, but if I do, I’ll keep that in mind.”

  They finished their dessert and a second cup of coffee before Delaney glanced at her watch and sighed. “I suppose I better head home. I don’t want Dad to worry.”

  “A worried father can’t be a good thing,” Klayne said in agreement. He wondered what it would be like to have someone care enough to worry about his well being. Then he wondered what it would be like to care about someone that much. To be a husband and a parent.

  His gaze immediately fell to Delaney. Her arms glided into the sleeves of the coat he held as she tossed him a saucy grin. “Why, thank you, kind sir.”

  “You’re welcome, milady.” He bowed his head to her before he yanked on his coat. Delaney tried to pay the bill, but he hurriedly handed Frieda more than enough to cover it then ushered Delaney outside.

  She huffed at him as a blast of arctic air circled around them. “Sergeant Campbell, I’m perfectly capable of paying for dinner, or, at the least, my own meal.”

  “I don’t have a single doubt that you are perfectly capable, but it isn’t going to happen while I’m around. This is a bona fide date tonight and therefore my treat.”

  She would have argued further, but the blizzard raging around them drew their attention. The snow that appeared picturesque earlier now seemed dangerous as it fell so heavy and thick, they could barely see ten feet in front of them. The wind howled between buildings, causing the snow to drift in the street and around parked cars.

  “Oh, goodness,” Delaney said, clearly displeased by the storm.

  “Come on. Let’s get you home.” Klayne clasped her elbow in his hand and guided her toward her car.

  “I think I better drive you home, unless you have a vehicle,” Delaney said as she fished inside her handbag for her keys.

  Klayne shook his head. “No, I don’t have a vehicle. Some of the fellas gave me a ride, but I’ll walk back.”

  Delaney gaped at him. “Walk? Are you daft? You can’t walk in this!” She waved her hand around them for emphasis. “Do you have a death wish, you crazy man? It’s a few miles to Pendleton Field and there is no way I’ll allow you to walk in this weather.”

  Klayne thought about arguing with her, just to watch more sparks shoot from her expressive hazel eyes, but held his tongue. “Yes, ma’am.”

  In the few minutes it took them to reach her car, the snow nearly obliterated the ability to see their hands in front of their faces.

  “You can’t drive anywhere in this,” Klayne said, stating what he felt to be a fact.

  “I’ve driven in worse. I’ll be fine. Besides, Dad will worry if I don’t come home.”

  “Couldn’t you stay with your friend from the bakery and call your Dad?” Klayne hated the idea of Delaney being alone on the road on a night like this.

  “No. I wouldn’t impose on them. They have a full house without any extras. Besides, a little snow won’t keep me from getting home. Honest, Klayne, I’ll make it with no problem.”

  “How about a hotel? I’ll even pay for your room,” he offered.

  Both of her eyebrows shot up and she gave him a guarded look.

  Palms out, Klayne held up his hands in front of him, as though he pushed back her racing thoughts. “I didn’t mean I’d be there, too. I just meant if you don’t have money for it, I’d be happy to pay to keep you from driving on these treacherous roads.”

  Her wariness melted into a soft smile. “Oh, that’s sweet, but unnecessary. Thank you for a lovely, wonderful evening. I look forward to seeing you when you get back.” She moved around to her driver’s side door and started to brush the snow off the glass with her sleeve.

  Klayne held back a primitive urge to throw her
over his shoulder and carry her to the hotel he knew was located down a few blocks and around the corner. However, he had an idea cavedweller-like behavior wouldn’t gain any favor with Delaney.

  Gallantly, he opened her car door and held it for her. “Why don’t you start it while I clean your windows? Do you have something I can use to scrape the snow off the windshield?”

  Delaney started the car then dug under the seat, handing him a blue ice scraper with the name of a local service station emblazoned across the front of it along with the line “Have gun, will grease!”

  Amused by the town’s Wild West humor, Klayne took the scraper and stepped back. He gave Delaney a withering glare when she tried to join him and shut her door, trapping her and the warmth inside while he quickly scraped the windshield and side windows.

  His fingers felt frozen by the time he opened the passenger door and slid onto the tan leather seat. Quickly, he closed the door, blocking out the snow and cold. The heat blowing through vents inside the car began thawing his cold-numbed hands and feet. “You’re all set, Delaney. Let’s go.”

  “So you are in agreement it’s ridiculous for you to walk anywhere in this?” she asked, putting the car into gear and pulling away from the curb.

  “No, ma’am. Not at all. But there is no way on earth I’m letting you drive home all alone in this mess. I’ll ride with you out to the ranch and catch a ride back into town.” Klayne expected her to offer a rebuttal or at least argue with him. The explosive anger that burst from her caught him off guard, though.

  “You thick-headed numbskull!” she shouted, glaring at him. “You can’t catch a ride back here from the ranch. The house is half a mile off the road and from there it’s another mile to a main road. You might be able to find an idiot dumb enough to be out on a night like this, but I highly doubt it. I won’t allow you to walk anywhere, and that’s all there is to it.”

  He would have laughed at her bossy, commanding attitude if it wouldn’t have further upset her. As it was, she could probably give a few of the generals he’d met a run for their money in leading with an iron fist.

 

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