The boys laughed and Klayne continued with the story. “I was in the process of crawling out of the nose of the plane back into the navigator’s area when we crashed. The force shot me back down that crawlway and through the glass nose of the plane like I was fired out of a cannon. On my unexpected exit from the plane, a few ragged edges of metal tried to scalp me while some equipment twisted my left arm and leg into a new shape and bent my back so far out of place I couldn’t stand upright for more than two months. I don’t remember crawling onto the beach or much of what happened until I woke up in a Chinese hospital a few days later. With the Japanese sniffing out our trail, we stayed there a few weeks before heading out again and eventually making it back to America through a route that took us around the world.”
“I’m sorry, Klayne,” Delaney said, reaching across the table and placing her hand over his.
Afraid she’d pull back if he turned over his hand and clasped hers, he gave a nod of acknowledgement and answered more questions from the young people sitting around him.
As soon as the dishes were cleared from the table, Klayne asked one of the boys for a ride into town. Before he left, Delaney hurried over to him, wrapped him in a tight hug, and whispered, “I’m so glad you survived and came back to me.” She disappeared inside the barn before he could articulate a response or draw her closer.
Relieved the kids in the car didn’t ask him a bunch of personal questions on the way to town, they dropped him off at Pendleton Field. Tommy, the boy Ryatt seemed quite attached to, offered to give him a ride out to the ranch tomorrow if he needed it.
Klayne thanked him and told him he’d call in the morning if he did.
After speaking with the commanding officer, Klayne felt a measure of relief that he’d still have a job and it would keep him right there in Pendleton, as a training officer. Whether Delaney liked it or not, he planned on sticking around and finding a way back into her arms and her heart.
Chapter Twenty-Two
A month after his return to the ranch, Klayne was so frustrated with his wife, he wanted to punch his fist through the barn wall.
Every step he took forward in their relationship, she pulled back three. Most of the time she acted cool, distant, and reserved. More often than he liked, he’d find her looking at him with seething anger simmering in her eyes, as though the very sight of him infuriated her.
She hadn’t welcomed him back to Sage Hills, and certainly not into her heart or bed, but he couldn’t leave.
The moments when she smiled, laughed, or teased him — when she forgot how much she pretended to despise him — kept him from packing up and leaving. In truth, those little scraps of her affection were all that sustained him during those hard, trying days.
With enough time and patience, Klayne held a small measure of confidence Delaney would come around and realize she still loved him. He could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice when she said his name, but for reasons he couldn’t understand, she wouldn’t admit it.
A man who spent the first thirty years of his life primarily alone and unloved didn’t expect a lot. Still, her indifference wounded him far deeper than anyone would ever know.
His road to recovery had been painful, some days excruciatingly so, but he’d clung to the promise of her love through it all.
Just when he thought he’d finally know what it was like to love and be loved, she withheld from him the one thing he wanted most. It would have been easy to walk away, to give up and move on. Then she’d do something unexpected, something sweet and caring that turned his heart into a syrupy mess, reaffirming his belief that she really did care for him.
Unfortunately, the sporadic kindness made it hard for him to find solid footing as he attempted to carve out a place where he fit in on the ranch.
Determined to greet the day with a more optimistic attitude, Klayne rose early, made the bed in the guest room where Delaney had insisted he stay, and went downstairs. He grabbed a cookie from the jar on the counter Lina had filled when she was there on Saturday to work, and headed outside.
The autumn day was warm and the air held a spicy, tangy scent. A dozen apple trees in the orchard still needed to be picked, but for the most part, the produce had all been harvested and canned.
Delaney’s friend Amy had arrived one morning with a car full of women who helped make jam, juice, and canned dozens of jars full of vegetables and fruit. The root cellar, as Dill referred to the storage area dug into a mound of ground behind the house, had shelves full of glistening jars of food and bins piled with apples, potatoes, onions, and other produce that would see them through the winter months.
Klayne had known what it was like to be hungry and cold without anywhere to go, so he basked in the knowledge he’d have an abundance of food, a warm place to live, and plenty of work to keep him occupied. As of December 1, he’d go back on active duty and begin training young soldiers how to sight in bombs with accuracy. Even though he could no longer accurately sight, he had the experience and skill to teach others. Until he began work at the base, his commanding officer told him to continue regaining his strength and mobility.
Annoyed by the obstacles of using his cane on the ranch, Klayne had abandoned it a week after he arrived at Sage Hills. Sometimes he lost his balance and had to catch himself before he fell, but for the most part, he managed.
As Klayne made his way to the barn that golden October morning, he admired the changing colors of the landscape. Where greens and blues had dominated during the summer, now oranges, reds and browns began to creep in, painting the world in jeweled-hues of a different variety.
In the barn, he turned on the radio, took two buckets down from pegs in the wall and set about milking the cows. He hummed along to tunes he knew as he worked, his forehead pressed against the warm hide of the cow he milked.
When the song “Bewitched, Bothered, Bewildered,” began playing, Klayne stopped a moment and stared at the radio. The lyrics so accurately expressed his current situation, he felt as though it had been written specifically for him. The singer crooned of losing his heart to a cold woman. Being around Delaney these last few weeks put Klayne in mind of the below freezing temperatures he’d endured during the winter.
Yet in the midst of the frosty tension she placed between them, there were moments of exquisite tenderness.
Last Saturday, she’d declared they must have a birthday party for him since he’d spent his lost and wounded in China. All the young people who worked for them came and Delaney served a moist cake topped with a delicious coconut icing. Much to his surprise, she wore the pearl necklace he’d left for her the morning after their wedding.
After the various gifts were opened, she presented him with a scrapbook that contained every article she’d been able to find that mentioned him or the men he’d flown with on the raid to Japan. Touched by the gift, he’d kissed her cheek and she’d leaned into him before Ryatt claimed her attention. Those sweet moments, brief as they were, fueled his hope for the future.
Klayne finished milking the cows and gathered the eggs, taking both to the bunkhouse where Butch cooked breakfast. After greeting the crusty old cowboy, Klayne made his way to the house with a small bucket of milk.
In the kitchen, he strained it into a pitcher and stored it in the refrigerator before rinsing the bucket and his hands. He’d just turned to take the bucket back outside when he found Delaney leaning against the doorjamb, watching him.
“Mornin’, Delaney.” He smiled at her, wondering what sort of mood she’d be in this morning. Even Butch had commented about the swings in her temperament being as unpredictable and wild as a cross-eyed batter in a ballgame. He let his gaze rove over her, taking in the dark braid that snaked over one shoulder, a blouse that brought out the roses in her cheeks, and a belly that seemed to expand on a daily basis. He wanted, so badly, to put his hands on it, to feel his baby move within her, but he resisted the urge.
“That’s a pretty blouse,” he said, admiring the floral pri
nt that appeared quite becoming on his wife.
Delaney glanced down and pushed away from the wall. “Thank you, Klayne. You’re always so kind to offer a compliment or encouragement. I want you to know I appreciate it.” He watched her swallow hard before she looked up at him. “In spite of everything, I’m glad you’re here.”
Much to his delight, she came to him and wrapped her arms around his trim waist, giving him a tight hug. “I’m so glad you made it home,” she whispered.
Klayne set down the bucket in his hands and returned the hug, resting his cheek on top of her head. Her alluring scent filled his nose and made him wish she’d be this agreeable to his proximity and affections all the time. Not ready to push his luck, he simply hugged her and waited for her to make a move. From experience, she’d stiffen, act self-conscious, and pull away from him.
This time, though, she hugged him a little tighter then reached up and pulled his head down toward hers until their lips touched in a light kiss.
Mindful of her being as easy to spook as an untamed horse, he let her take charge of the kiss. When it deepened and the passion he remembered, had spent months dreaming of, sparked between them, he pulled her closer and lost himself in her love.
Neither one of them noticed Ryatt run into the kitchen or the boy’s shocked expression at finding them in a heated embrace.
“Get away from Aunt Dee!” Ryatt shouted, charging into Klayne’s side and knocking him off balance.
Klayne grasped the edge of the counter to keep from falling to the floor. Ryatt swatted at him, but Delaney grabbed the boy from behind, pulling him back.
“Ryatt! Stop that, this instant. You know Klayne’s my husband. It’s okay for him to kiss me,” Delaney said, trying to calm the youngster. “He wasn’t hurting me. Everything is fine, Ry.”
“I don’t want you to like him, Aunt Dee. You can’t like him!” Ryatt yelled and ran outside.
Tears rolled down Delaney’s cheeks and she brushed them away. Klayne followed her into the laundry room where she slipped her feet into the old loafers she’d taken to wearing when her feet were too swollen to fit in anything else.
“I’ll go after him, Delaney. You stay here,” Klayne said, opening the door.
Delaney set a hand on his arm, pulling him to a stop. “No. I’ll go. It’s my fault he’s upset. I shouldn’t have… you just looked.” She sighed. “I enjoyed kissing you, Klayne, but I… I shouldn’t…” Without offering any further explanation, she hurried outside to find the boy.
Klayne couldn’t blame Ryatt for not trusting him. The child took his cues from Delaney. When she was cool and distant, Ryatt was, too. The days she treated Klayne like a close friend, Ryatt tagged after him like a besotted pup. Delaney’s emotions, which jumped all over a broad spectrum, were confusing and hard for everyone. Navigating them had to be doubly hard for a boy who’d so recently lost both parents. Aware that Delaney couldn’t help it, it sure didn’t make for trouble-free days at the ranch.
An hour later, Klayne watched as Delaney walked Ryatt down their lane to catch the school bus. The boy had seemed withdrawn and quiet through breakfast, even when Butch and Duffy tried to tease him back into a good humor.
Concerned, Klayne just hoped once the baby arrived Delaney would return to her old self, Ryatt would settle down, and the road ahead wouldn’t be quite so rocky.
The sewing machine whirred as Delaney worked to hem a pile of white flannel into diapers. She’d been so busy since she found out she was expecting, she hadn’t spent any time actually getting ready for the arrival of her little one. Her and Klayne’s little one.
The day she’d looked up and saw him at the edge of the field, she felt her prayers had been answered. All she’d wanted from the moment she woke up and found him gone back in February was for him to come home again.
In the quiet hours when she couldn’t sleep or when her hands were busy at a task that left her thoughts free, she’d done nothing but dream of the life they would build together. So many grand visions for the future filled her thoughts and took root in her heart.
A longing to go to Klayne, to confess how much she loved him, needed him, nagged at her incessantly, but she ignored it. Some days, all she wanted was to sit next to him, rest her head on his strong shoulder, and let him help carry the load of her burdens. In those moments, she put more distance between them, widening the chasm she’d carved between the two of them.
The man had the patience of a saint. He’d not once acted upset or hurt by her anger or indifference. He’d accepted the boundaries she set and treated her with polite respect and kindness.
Delaney didn’t deserve his kindness. She certainly didn’t deserve his love. He’d explained why she hadn’t heard from him for months, and the reasonable part of her understood.
However, the rest of her railed against his abandonment and the terrifying notion that he’d do it again. Fears of him leaving her, leaving her with a baby to raise on her own, kept her from admitting the truth to him. Not a day went by that she didn’t give thanks for her husband, for his safekeeping, and for his steady presence at the ranch. Despite all the challenges hurled at him, Klayne met each one with a calm, confident demeanor that even Dill had commented was a help to them all.
Convinced he couldn’t love her with her bloated, distended body and tumultuous emotions, Delaney decided after the baby came she’d have plenty of time to make things right with Klayne. The doctor assured her the roiling emotions she currently experienced should settle down a few weeks after the baby’s arrival.
Clinging to the hope she’d still have a marriage to salvage then, Delaney focused her attention on preparing for the baby. She’d spent the last two days sewing receiving blankets and simple kimonos for the baby to wear.
Dill mentioned at breakfast there was a trunk in the attic with baby things in it and Klayne offered to go up and find it later.
As she snipped the thread on another finished diaper, the phone jangled in the kitchen. Delaney rose to her feet and waddled down the hall, picking it up on the fourth ring.
“Sage Hills Ranch.”
“Mrs. Campbell?” a nasally voice inquired.
“Yes, this is Mrs. Campbell.” Delaney hoped no more trouble was about to arrive at their door. She’d had about all she could endure for a lifetime, let alone the past several months.
“This is Mrs. Jenner, the principal at Ryatt’s school.” The woman sounded snobbish and imperial.
Delaney recalled meeting the pinch-faced educator the day she enrolled Ryatt in school. The woman had irked her then every bit as much as she did now with her better-than-everyone attitude.
“Mrs. Jenner, how may I help you this morning?”
“Is Ryatt unwell, Mrs. Campbell?” Mrs. Jenner asked.
Delaney frowned. “He’s perfectly fine, or at least he was when he got on the bus.”
She could almost hear the censure when the woman spoke. “Ryatt is not in his class. His teacher said he didn’t arrive this morning. Are you certain he isn’t at home, perhaps playing hooky?”
Delaney wanted to reach through the phone and shake the woman. “I walked him to the bus and watched him climb on it this morning. There is no possibility he missed it. Are you telling me, Mrs. Jenner, that you’ve lost my nephew?”
The woman spluttered. “Of course not. We do not lose children. Children may, in the course of their conniving high jinks, run off, but we most assuredly do not lose children.”
“You’re certain he isn’t at class? At school?” Delaney asked, her mind whirring as she considered all the possibilities of why Ryatt was missing. Each idea made her more upset and worried.
“He is not in class or at school. Two of his classmates said he never came inside this morning. It is a shame children like that…”
Delaney slammed down the phone, grabbed her handbag and rushed outside. She’d taken three steps before she realized she didn’t have on any shoes and backtracked inside to shove her feet into the old loafers.
She made a quick trip to the bathroom, then hustled out the back door. Her father sat on the porch, reading a book in the morning sunshine, a blanket covering his lap and keeping him warm.
“Ryatt didn’t go to class this morning. I’m going to find him,” Delaney blurted as she wobbled down the steps and made her way out to the family sedan. She hadn’t been able to drive her pickup since shortly after Klayne arrived home. Between having to climb up into it and trying to get her rounded belly behind the wheel, she’d taken to driving the car when she needed to go into town.
“Take Klayne with you.” Dill pointed toward the shop where Klayne could be seen tinkering on an engine through the open door.
She glanced toward her husband, shook her head, and continued on to the car.
“Klayne!” Dill yelled at the top of his lungs.
The soldier snapped to attention and barreled out of the shop. He caught sight of Delaney hurrying toward the car in her rocking gait and Dill motioning for him to join her.
In a few long steps, he reached the car and held open the driver’s side door for her. “Mind if I ride along?”
Her gaze narrowed as she slid behind the wheel. “Suit yourself.”
Before she could start the car and leave without him, he hustled in the passenger side.
Throughout his years as a boy wandering aimlessly around the country then as a soldier tasked with dangerous missions, Klayne had experienced more than his share of terrifying rides.
Home of Her Heart (Hearts of the War Book 2) Page 26