Fearful of what might have happened now, Delaney raced inside and snatched up the receiver Lina had left sitting on the old wooden stool they kept by the phone.
“Hello?” Delaney answered, slightly breathless.
“Is this Delaney Danvers?” a male voice inquired, one she didn’t recognize.
“It is.” Apprehension slithered down her spine, making her shiver despite the heat of the day.
“Miss Danvers, this is John Phillips. Our son, Petey, is best friends with your nephew, Ryatt.”
“Oh, hello, Mr. Phillips. It was so nice to see your family at Christmas. How is Lucy? I suppose you’ve welcomed that sweet little bundle of joy you were expecting in late spring by now. I’m sure congratulations are in order,” Delaney said, wondering why in the world Carol’s neighbor would be calling her.
“Lucy is well, as is our baby girl. Thank you for inquiring about them. But that’s not why I’m calling,” John said, clearing this throat. “I don’t know how to tell you this, other than to just spit it out, Miss Danvers. Carol received word this morning that your brother passed away from the wounds he sustained at the Battle of Midway. She came right over here to our place to leave Ryatt so she could go into town and see about making arrangements to bring his body home for burial. Carol mentioned plans to call you once she had more details. On the way to town…” The man’s voice caught and he paused for the length of several heartbeats before he cleared his throat again and continued. “Carol missed a curve on the way into town and crashed. I was the first to reach her. She took my hand and said it was an accident, that she didn’t want to leave behind her baby, meaning Ryatt. She died a few minutes later.”
“Oh,” Delaney gasped, plopping onto the stool since her legs would no longer hold her. Lina scurried over, giving Delaney a concerned glance. “I… This is…” Delaney couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. In one fell swoop, she’d lost two people who meant the world to her. And poor Ryatt. How would her nephew go on without his parents? “Is Ryatt still with you?”
“He is, Miss Danvers. We’re happy to have him here as long as necessary, but if you could come right away, I think it might be a good thing. Ryatt is doing his best to put on a brave front, but the boy is just overwhelmed by all that’s happened, and with good reason.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Would you put Ryatt on the phone, please?” Delaney took a calming breath. She had no idea what to say to her nephew, but needed to assure him everything would be fine.
“I’d be happy to put him on the phone, but he finally fell asleep. I sure hate to wake him,” John said.
“No, let him rest. Just tell him I love him and I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Delaney looked up at the ceiling as tears burned the backs of her eyes, hoping to keep them at bay. “Thank you for calling, Mr. Phillips. I know how difficult it must have been. We appreciate you taking care of Ryatt for us.”
“It’s our pleasure to care for the boy, for as long as you need. Safe travels, Miss Danvers. I’m so sorry to be the one to tell you about Carol and Mac. They were both fine, fine people and we’ll greatly miss them. We’ll see you soon.”
Delaney hung up the phone and sat there, staring at the floor for several minutes. Her mind replayed happy moments from her childhood spent tagging along with her brother. She pictured the joy radiating from Carol and Mac on their wedding day and the pride that nearly popped the buttons right off her brother’s shirt the day Ryatt was born.
Gone.
Her beloved brother and sister-in-law were both gone. Just like that.
She began to wonder what she’d done to deserve such an endless chain of trouble. First Klayne disappeared, then the armed forces took her ranch hands. An unexpected pregnancy, her father’s accident, and news that Mac had been wounded just piled up one problem on top of another.
But hearing someone say two people she loved so dearly were gone was almost more than she could bear. How could Mac and Carol be dead?
She’d just received a chatty letter from Carol last week, talking about how much fun Ryatt was having that summer with Petey Phillips.
“Are you okay, Miss Dee?” Lina asked, placing a hand on Delaney’s arm, drawing her from her reverie.
“Not exactly, Lina.” Delaney stood and inhaled slowly, knowing what she needed to do, but dreading it. “Would you please call the depot and reserve a ticket for me on the next train to Portland?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Lina picked up the telephone and placed the call.
Delaney squared her shoulders and walked down the hall to her father’s room. She found him staring out the window, watching as Lottie rode Troy away from the barn to go check the fences in the west pasture.
Dill glanced at her then pointed out the window. “That girl has a way with horses. She puts me in mind of you, the way she handles them so effortlessly.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Delaney sat down on the edge of the bed and took her father’s hand in hers. “Daddy, there’s something I need to tell you.”
His gaze met hers and awareness glittered in his eyes. “It’s Mac, isn’t it?”
Delaney nodded. “Carol just received word this morning that he’s gone. He was injured at the Battle of Midway, but there was hope he’d recover.”
Dill swiped a hand over his face, but before his emotions got the best of him, Delaney hurried to finish delivering the bad news.
“Dad, there’s something else. Carol was in a car wreck this morning on the way into town to see about bringing his body home. She…” Delaney’s voice cracked and tears rolled down her cheeks. “She didn’t make it, Dad. The neighbor said she died shortly after he found her. Ryatt is with the Phillips family right now, but I need to go to him.”
Unable to speak through the pain squeezing his throat, her father reached out and pulled Delaney into a hug. No longer able to contain her grief, she sobbed against him. She cried for the adored brother she’d never tease or laugh with again. She mourned the sister-in-law who had loved her as she was and encouraged her to be independent and strong. And she grieved for her nephew who would grow up without his two devoted, loving parents. Burdened with soul-deep sorrow, thoughts of Klayne trickled in, compounding the horrible, throbbing ache in her heart.
“Why do bad things keep happening, Dad?” Delaney asked, in a choppy breath.
“I don’t know, Sis, but there’s a reason for everything, even if we can’t see it and don’t understand it at the time.” Dill patted her shoulder then pushed her back, wiping away her tears with his palms.
“I will never understand how any good could come from ripping Mac and Carol away from Ryatt, from us. They were such good people, Dad, full of laughter and kindness. Why do people like them get snatched from us while terrible people exist?”
“It’s not for us to decide who lives and dies, honey. You know that. Don’t let bitterness overtake your reason,” Dill cautioned.
Delaney stood, clenching angry fists at her sides. “Like you haven’t been consumed with bitterness since your accident? All you’ve done is gripe and complain and…” At the look on her father’s face, she snapped her mouth closed. “I’m sorry, Dad. It’s just this… I can’t bear it. I can’t bear to lose them both, especially with Klayne…”
“I know, Sis. I know. It’s okay. Everything will be okay.” Dill took a cleansing breath and reached for a handkerchief on the bedside table. He blew his nose, wiped away the tears he’d shed, and faced his daughter. “You need to get to Portland right away. Ryatt needs you now more than ever. Send one of the boys to find Duffy, and Lina out to get Butch. I’ll talk to them while you go pack.”
Delaney nodded and returned to the kitchen, asking Lina to get Butch and send Tommy to find Duffy. With heavy steps, she went upstairs, took a shower and washed her hair, then packed a suitcase. She attempted to dress in a lightweight summer suit she’d worn two summers ago on a trip she’d taken with Amy and three other girls to the coast.
The skirt was so tight, she couldn
’t get the top to button, so she fastened it with a safety pin and covered the waist with the blouse and the jacket.
After pinning on a hat, gathering a pair of gloves, and snapping her suitcase closed, she carried the case downstairs and left it at the door. She went back to see her father, kissed his cheek and told him she’d take care of everything.
“I’m sorry all the burdens are falling on your shoulders, Delaney. If I could lift one of them, I would.”
“I know, Dad. I’ll most likely be gone three or four days, depending on how long it takes to make arrangements for Carol’s service.” Delaney moved to the door and looked back at him. “If you think of it, have Lina, Louise, and Jilly clean one of the bedrooms for Ryatt.”
Dill nodded. “I think we should put him in Mac’s old room. The boy might feel closer to his folks that way.”
The lump of emotion prevented her ability to speak, so Delaney hurried from the room and back to the kitchen. Duffy and Butch met her on the porch steps. By the look on her face, they both knew something was wrong.
“What is it, Girly?” Butch asked, settling a hand on her arm.
“Mac and Carol are both gone,” she said, pushing the words past the enormous, jagged knife of pain that twisted and turned in her heart with each relaying of the words.
“Gone? You don’t mean…” Butch looked at her incredulously. “What happened?”
“Mac died from wounds he received at the Battle of Midway. Carol found out this morning and was on her way to town to see to arrangements for his burial when she ran off the road and crashed into a tree. She died soon after.”
“And the boy? Is Ryatt okay?” Butch asked, concerned.
“He’s at a neighbor’s house. I’m leaving right now to go there, but need a ride into Pendleton to the train depot.
“I’ll take you, Dee,” Duffy said, spinning around and hurrying over to the building where they parked the vehicles.
“Bring that boy home safely, Dee. We’ll all help take care of him,” Butch said, giving her a hug then carrying her suitcase out to the pickup Duffy drove up to the end of the yard.
“Thank you, Butch, and please keep an eye on Dad while I’m gone.”
“I will, Girly. You can count on all of us,” Butch said, setting her suitcase in the back then closing the door once she slid inside.
Delaney waved to him. The kids spilled out of the barn and buildings to wave goodbye.
Four days later, Delaney stood in the cemetery as cold rain drizzled from a sky the color of worn concrete. Ryatt leaned against her, soundlessly mourning his parents. She’d managed to arrange to have Carol buried beside her parents. Mac’s body had not yet arrived, but would soon join his wife’s in the tidy little cemetery.
Now, as her sister-in-law’s body was laid to rest, Delaney wanted to shout that it wasn’t fair, wasn’t right, for a woman so kind and sweet and loving as Carol to have her life cut short. Especially when she left behind a son who needed his mother.
Battling her tears and her emotions, Delaney held them in check as the pastor concluded the service. She turned to those who had come to pay their respects, to mourn the passing of a dear woman, and offered them a gentle smile. “Thank you all for being here today. Ryatt and I appreciate your presence and prayers more than you can know.”
With a nod to the crowd, she ushered Ryatt toward the car she’d hired to take them to the depot to catch the afternoon train back to Pendleton.
Ryatt’s little red-haired friend Petey followed. The boy flung his arms around her nephew, giving him a tight hug. From the moment she’d arrived at the Phillips’ home, Petey had done his best to draw Ryatt out of the hollow shell he’d climbed into. However, his efforts were to no avail.
Ryatt had run to Delaney, clinging to her as he cried. In the days she’d been there, he’d hardly said anything, hardly eaten anything, so mired in his grief, he barely functioned.
Even now, as Petey promised to never forget him and to always be his best friend, Ryatt gave the boy a half-hearted hug.
Delaney bent over and hugged the feisty little rascal. She’d known Petey Phillips since he was just a tiny thing, and the boy was full of spunk. “Thank you for being such a good friend to Ryatt, Petey. You are always welcome to visit him at the ranch. Don’t forget that.”
“I won’t.” Petey’s lower lip quivered as Delaney gave him a parting hug then nudged Ryatt, numb and silent, into the car. Before they pulled away, Ryatt turned and lifted his hand, pressing it against the glass in a final farewell to his best friend.
On the long train ride home, Delaney thought about the whirlwind of the last few days. She’d packed up everything of Ryatt’s and things belonging to Carol and Mac she thought he might want, either now or someday in the future. Arrangements were made to ship it all to the ranch.
John and Lucy Phillips had been such a help to her, offering to do anything they could to assist her. Lucy had taken her aside and asked Delaney when she was due. Surprised the woman had seen past her efforts to hide her pregnancy, Delaney told her the truth about Klayne and the baby. Lucy gave her a hug and invited her to write if she needed any help or advice in the coming months.
Relieved to have someone she could confide in, Delaney thanked her and returned her focus to packing up what had been her brother’s entire life into boxes and shipping crates.
With John’s help, she’d contacted a realtor about selling the farm, and discussed the possibility of renting it until a buyer was located. For the remainder of the summer and through the harvest, the man Mac had hired to oversee it would continue, reporting to Delaney.
As Ryatt sagged against her, succumbing to his exhaustion, she settled a hand around the boy, drawing him against her. She wished she could take away his pain, make everything happy and carefree for him again, but it wasn’t to be. Delaney hated the war, hated that it had robbed her of Mac and Carol, leaving her nephew orphaned. The thought of an orphan brought Klayne to mind. The familiar ache pushed the air from her lungs, making her blink to hold her tears at bay.
She placed her hand to the slight mound of her stomach and felt the baby kick. The days were limited that she could keep hiding her condition from her father and the others. Instead of being a coward, she should have told them the truth in the first place. Now, she tried to think of the best way to tell them she was expecting Klayne’s baby.
Whether it was from the heat beating down on the train, the stuffy atmosphere inside the car, the grief dragging her down, or the weariness of body and mind that had plagued her for weeks, Delaney suddenly felt ill. With no time to gently set Ryatt aside, she leaped to her feet and rushed toward the restroom.
The remainder of the trip, she ran back and forth to the restroom, further distressing Ryatt.
An hour from Pendleton, he threw himself against her, holding her so tight, she thought he might crack a rib. He turned his face up to her, eyes glistening with tears, and pleaded in a raspy voice. “Don’t die, Aunt Dee! I need you!”
“Oh, baby,” Delaney said, wrapping both arms around him and rocking him from side to side. “I’m not going to die, Ry. I promise. I’m just a little under the weather, that’s all. Don’t worry, sweetie. We’ll be home soon.”
“I want to go back to my home. I want Mom and Dad to be there,” Ryatt sobbed.
Delaney did her best to soothe him, ignoring her own discomforts as they neared Pendleton. She’d wired ahead to let Duffy know when to meet the train. As soon as they stepped down to the platform, he was there, hat in hand as he greeted them.
Ryatt remained silent, clinging to her hand as Duffy gathered their bags and led the way to the pickup.
“Would you like to stop and get an ice cream or a soda pop?” Delaney asked Ryatt. The boy shook his head and leaned against her, as though he lacked the will and strength to stand on his own.
At the ranch, Delaney slid out of the pickup and reached in for Ryatt, but Duffy shook his head. “I’ll get him, Dee.”
When h
e started to lift Ryatt, the boy bucked against him and scrambled out the door after his aunt, eyes wide with terror at the thought of being separated from her.
Delaney settled a hand on her nephew’s back and guided him up the steps and inside the house. After she removed her hat and gloves, she led Ryatt down the hall to her father’s room. “We’re back, Dad,” Delaney said, stepping inside the improvised bedroom.
“I’m mighty glad to see you both,” Dill said, smiling at Ryatt and patting a spot on the mattress. “Come sit over here, Ry, and tell Grandpa all about your trip.”
Ryatt continued to linger at the door with Delaney, as though he couldn’t bear to let her go for even a minute.
“It’s okay, Ry. You go ahead and sit with Grandpa while I go change my clothes.” Delaney gave him a little push forward. The boy stepped across the room, but turned back to her with a look that made her think of a beaten dog she’d once seen pawing through garbage in town.
Her heart constricted with pain and she backed out of the room. Upstairs, she changed her clothes, then went to the bathroom and splashed her face with cool water. Glad her sick spell had passed, she studied her face in the mirror. Twin splotches of bright red looked like badly applied rouge against the pale hue of her face. Dark circles attested to her lack of sleep while sorrow haunted the depths of her eyes.
What had happened to the smiling, happy girl who hadn’t a care in the world?
Everything in her world had tilted off kilter the day she met Klayne Campbell. Despite the truth, despite the sensible part of her brain yelling at her to be reasonable, she shifted every single thing that had gone wrong in the past six months onto his shoulders. Regardless of where he was or if he’d ever return, his shoulders were broad enough to bear the blame.
Chapter Nineteen
Klayne had no idea how or where they’d come from, but one of the other plane crews arrived at the hospital. He almost cried when he recognized the doctor who’d served as a gunner so he could come along on the mission.
“You boys are sure a sight for sore eyes,” he said, grinning as the five men crowded around the beds where he and the others convalesced. Not a one of them was injured, although they all looked dirty and tired.
Home of Her Heart (Hearts of the War Book 2) Page 22