When The Geese Fly North

by Dragon, Tracey L.

  Will’s shuffling feet alerted her to his presence, and she turned and gave him a rueful smile. “I guess it’s charred bacon and eggs tonight.”

  He grunted, and plopped into a kitchen chair. It was the first time she’d seen him sit while she stood working. “You okay?”

  “Feel like I had the stuffing knocked out of me by six Marines, but I’ll manage.”

  “You sure? I can bring a tray to the bedroom if you like.”

  “No.” His jaw set with determination. “I’ll manage.”

  “Your choice.” She reached for a mug and poured him a hot cup of coffee to which she added a little cream to make it easier on his stomach. “Here.” She plunked it down in front of him. “See how that sets with you.”

  The expression on his face at the sight of the coffee almost knocked her socks off. She’d seen him smile a few times, but nothing like the one he wore now. It lit up his entire being and took years off his life. Although he was still ill, it seemed as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. She put her hand on the edge of the sink to steady herself.

  “Ah, you know the way to a man’s heart.”

  “Do I?” she asked hesitantly.

  He gazed over the steaming cup and locked eyes with her. His lips pursed as if to speak, then he stopped and took a sip from his cup. “Great coffee.”

  She turned to the stove and began cracking the eggs into the skillet and tried not to be disappointed by his lack of response to her question. As usual it seemed to be one step forward and two steps back with the man. At first, she thought him only skittish because of his wounds, but now that they’d gotten beyond that she wondered what his problem was. She knew he felt some desire for her as evidenced by the kiss in the barn and his aroused state last night. So, what was holding him back? Then the unthinkable occurred to her, and she whipped around to ask him. “Will . . .”

  “You’re better,” her son screeched as his pounding feet careened into the kitchen, and he charged Will.

  “Whoa now, lad.” Will set his hands on Thomas’s shoulders and held him at arm’s length. “We don’t want you to get sick, so you best sit on the other side of the table. You don’t want to catch my germs.”

  “Germs? What’s germs, Mr. Will?”

  “Little bugs,” Will responded, humor etching his voice.

  “You gots bugs, Mr. Will? Can I see?”

  Will flashed another one of his heartwarming grins before he explained to Thomas about germs and bugs.

  Amy listened half-heartedly to their conversation as she scrambled the eggs and mulled over her earlier conjecture. She reviewed everything she could remember from the time she’d first met Will. She recalled the first night they met and his disinterest in furthering their acquaintance beyond purchasing her drinks and coming to her defense. Then there was the boys’ lack of reaction to Maribelle Riley and Helen Sargeant at The White Elephant. It all added up to one of two things—either his preference didn’t lie with women, which she truly doubted, or there was a woman in his past he preferred not to talk about. Her heart sank as she removed the biscuits from the oven and turned off the stove. She plastered on a smile she didn’t feel and set the food on the table.

  “Mmm. Smells good. It feels as though my belly’s touching my backbone. I could eat a horse.”

  “Me too,” her son echoed.

  Will chuckled. “I don’t think you’re quite big enough for a horse. How about a small pony?”

  “I like ponies,” her son rambled on.

  Amy paid them no nevermind, her brain scrambling to sort through her shifting emotions. What if Will was in love with another woman? She hadn’t thought of that before. She automatically opened a biscuit and buttered it before handing it to Will as if he was Thomas.

  “Ames.” Will’s voice cut through her thoughts. “You all right?”

  She opened her mouth to ask the question nagging at her then closed it again. This was definitely not a conversation she wanted to start now. She was too afraid of how she would react if she didn’t like his answer. “I’m fine,” she said tightly, flattening her lips into a line before taking a bite of the flaky biscuit which suddenly tasted like sawdust.

  Will’s eyes bore into her as if he didn’t believe her, but when she didn’t say more he began to eat as if it were his last day on earth. After a second cup of coffee, he apologized for not helping with the dishes and made his way back to the bedroom. He appeared wiped out and pale.

  Disappointed, Amy realized she’d have to wait to put her question to Will until later. After she finished the dishes and put Thomas to bed she found it impossible to sit still, her thoughts taking on a life of their own. She reached into the back of her cupboard and brought out the bottle of sherry she’d kept but seldom drank. Several glasses later, she’d worked up enough courage to knock on Will’s door, but unfortunately, he didn’t answer. Damn the man, she’d have to wait until tomorrow.

  ~ ~ ~

  The next morning, Will went to the barn and fed the animals then returned to stand in the kitchen while Amy finished making breakfast, although by the ashen color of his face it was damn nigh a struggle. She didn’t try to persuade him to sit down, that would have been like attempting to push an elephant up a hill.

  She decided during breakfast that before confronting Will about his past, she wanted to speak to Fran to see if Travis had ever mentioned there being a woman in Will’s life. Since she’d have to wait until Fran got off work at the Novelty Shoppe, she dropped Thomas off at her mother’s so she could run a few errands and do some shopping. As she wandered through Landauer’s Clothing Store, she wished she could afford to buy an outfit that didn’t look like it came from The Five and Dime. During the War when she’d been single and working fifty hours a week, she could afford beautiful clothes from Landauer’s, however, pickings had been slim then. Now with the war over, the shops were full of colorful dresses once again, but unfortunately what little money she had went for necessities. Sometimes it seemed as if life was terribly unfair. Then she remembered the price her brother and other men like him had paid and was deeply ashamed of her complaining.

  “Fran, you home?” Amy knocked on the screen door, calling out in case her friend was upstairs or in the backyard.

  “On the porch.” Fran responded. “Come on back, there’s a lovely breeze.”

  Amy walked around the house and plopped down in the rocker next to her best friend and stared out at the canal.

  “Uh, oh, something’s definitely not A-Okay in your world. What’s going on? That big, strapping Marine giving you problems again? What did he do now? Run off and marry the Sargeant girl behind your back?”

  “I don’t know, Fran. I just don’t get him. Sometimes I think he genuinely cares for me, but other times it’s as though he’s built a wall a mile high. It’s one step forward and two steps back. I’m beginning to wonder if perhaps there’s a woman in his past he’s still pining for. Did Travis ever mention anyone?”

  “Not that I can think of. I’ve only been alone with him a few times in his truck when he drove me home. Did you ask Will if there was anyone else?”

  “No. He never wanted to discuss his personal life or his time during the war. I guess down deep I really didn’t want to hear the details. I was afraid there might be something in his past that would keep him from working for me, and he was an answer to a prayer.”

  “I think before you get yourself more worked up than you already are, you need to go home and get that Marine of yours to spill his guts. Then you’ll have an idea of where you stand.”

  “But how will I know if he’s being honest with me?”

  “Why would he lie?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I’m making a mountain out of a mole hill. Do you think Travis would know if there’s anyone else?”

  Fran ju
mped out of her chair. “I don’t know, but let’s see if we can get him to cough up a few answers.” Fran went into the house and made a phone call then hurried back to the porch with two glasses of wine. “Here drink this.”

  Thirty minutes later, Travis parked his truck in Fran’s driveway, hopped out, and hurried to her door. She opened it before he could knock.

  “Get in here.” Fran grabbed his arm and practically dragged him through the house to the back porch.

  “What’s so all fire urgent that I had to hightail it over here without my supper?”

  They stepped out onto the porch where Amy sat with a woe begotten expression on her face and his mouth turned grim. “What’s going on?”

  “You tell us.” Fran put her hands on her hips and glared at Travis. “Is there a girl in Will’s past that he’s still yearning for?”

  Travis scowled and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not my business to comment on it.”

  “Then, make it your business. By your response, I take it there is a woman.”

  Travis sighed then leaned back against the porch railing and crossed his arms. “Was, is the optimal word there, and I doubt there’s any pining still going on.”

  “You won’t tell me anything?” Amy sniffed.

  Travis squirmed, a painful grimace on his face. “There’s a lot I would like to say, but again, Will’s as good as my brother, and he wouldn’t appreciate my interference. If you want information about Cindy, you need to go home and talk to Will.”

  “Her name’s Cindy?”

  Travis nodded but didn’t elucidate.

  “Fine, you can’t talk about Will. I can appreciate your loyalty. Let’s talk about you, then.” Fran put her hands on her hips and glared at Travis.

  “Me? What have I got to do with it?”

  “Did you know her?”

  “Who?”

  “Cindy, and don’t be obtuse,” Fran snapped.

  “Not well.” He sighed again, appearing to dislike where the conversation was headed.

  “Did you like her?”

  “No, actually, can’t say as I did.”

  “Why?” Amy moved to the edge of her seat to better hear his response.

  “I had my reasons, but I’ll not be sharing them with you until you’ve talked to Will, and now . . .” He put the cap he removed earlier back on his head and stepped off the porch. “I’m going home to finish my dinner. Good-night, ladies.”

  “Well, that is one thing in Will’s favor, don’t you think, Ames?”

  “What?”

  “That Travis didn’t care for her. I think you need to go home and find out the truth?”

  Feeling calmer and somewhat better, Amy hugged her friend. “Thank you. I can’t imagine what I’d do without you.”

  “Let’s hope you never have to find out.” Fran squeezed her back and followed her to the truck. “Call me when you can. I’ll be on pins and needles until you do.”

  “Sure thing.” Amy climbed into the truck and straightened her shoulders before driving off to pick up her son then home to confront Will.

  Chapter 31

  Tom, the rooster, had woken Will bright and early and after nine hours of sleep he felt well enough to get back to his old routine or semi-routine at least. After a quick wash and shave, he moseyed out to the barn in an attempt to get his strength back. He watered and fed the dogs and chickens then plopped down on his bed. Just that little bit of work seemed to tire him, and he thought he’d rest a bit more before attempting to drive the tractor. All the rain had been good for the plants including the weeds, so he needed to get out in the fields with the cultivator even if only for an hour or two.

  After lunch, a rather subdued Amy left for town, and he drove the cultivator through the fields for a couple of hours before calling it quits. He still felt weak as a kitten, so he went back to the house to wash up and catch a nap in the barn before Amy got home. Tonight, he’d return to his bunk and let her have her room back. She appeared tired this morning as though the world weighed heavily on her mind. He had no doubt he’d hear about it sooner or later. He hoped for later, but he’d bet on sooner.

  Amy appeared fit to be tied when she returned and stepped out of the truck. The scowl she gave him on the way to the porch set him back on his heels. He’d have laughed if Amy’s expression hadn’t been so menacing. Something was definitely wrong.

  She stomped up the porch, opened the screen door and shooed Thomas inside before turning back around to face him. “Are you in love with someone else?”

  Amy could have knocked him over with a feather. That was the last thing he expected to hear coming from her lips. “What brought that on?”

  She folded her arms under her breasts. “That’s not an answer. Are you or are you not still in love with a girl from your past. Cindy, perhaps? Were you married?”

  Damn Travis. He flattened his lips. “No, only engaged.” He bit out.

  “Engaged. That’s serious. Is she still in love with you?”

  “God no, I doubt she ever was.”

  Amy tilted her head sideways as if pondering his words, started to speak then shook her head as if she’d changed her mind. “I’m hungry and tired. I’m going in the house and fix an easy dinner. I would appreciate it if you’d eat in the barn tonight. I’ll set your plate on the porch in thirty minutes.” She turned and with slumped shoulders stepped onto the porch and into the house leaving him to ponder her words.

  With a heavy heart, he trudged off to his room.

  Chapter 32

  March 2013

  Over an hour had passed since Will and Amy began talking, and both of them were rapidly running out of energy. Reluctantly, Callie suggested they call it quits for the day, so they could take their afternoon nap. Neither of the two disagreed. Callie expected Michael to make his exit the minute they closed the den door behind them, but he seemed to want to linger.

  “I don’t suppose I could trouble you for another cup of coffee and piece of pie?”

  “Sure,” Callie said graciously, her thoughts still lost in the past. “I could use one myself. The sun’s out and there’s no wind today. How about we sit out on the porch?” Egads, did I just invite Dr. Perfect to join me for a cup of coffee? I must be losing my mind or perhaps something else. Will and Amy’s story reminded her that she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been intimate with anyone, but right now Michael in his less than perfect state brought that thought urgently to mind, and it wasn’t blackberry pie she found herself craving. Feeling her face flush, she tugged her hair forward onto her cheek and busied herself pouring the coffee and cutting pieces of pie. Anything to avoid looking at the disheveled man whose bare skin she suddenly remembered touching.

  “Here, let me take a cup.” Michael reached for a mug.

  Without speaking, she handed him one along with a plate of pie. “Go on out, I’ll join you in a second.”

  Once the backdoor closed behind Michael, she exhaled the breath she’d been holding and grasped the edge of the counter. Okay, Callie girl, get a hold of yourself. Remember this man annoys the hell out of you, but her newfound libido stubbornly refused to be convinced.

  Michael had moved the outdoor table into the sun and sat looking entirely too relaxed with his feet propped on an empty chair when Callie joined him. Mentally she groaned as the screen door closed behind her, and she took a seat across from him.

  “God, it feels good to sit down and relax out here. It seems as though I’m always on the run.”

  “From what? All the nurses that are chasing you?” Oh, God, I only meant to think that, not say it. There you go again, Callie, open mouth insert foot. “Sorry,” she bit out reluctantly, “I didn’t mean to be snide.”

  He raised a brow and gave her an I don’t believe a word of that look. “Despite
what you may think, if I had time to date, which I don’t, at least not very often, it wouldn’t be with women I work with. That’s entirely too complicated.”

  Callie took a sip of her coffee and stared out across the fields that ran behind the house. “That’s a little hard to swallow.”

  “What?”

  “A guy like you not dating. It can’t be from lack of offers.”

  Michael smirked. “I said, lack of time, but never mind me. What about you? You’re an attractive woman. When was the last time you had a date?”

  “I’m sure I’ve got you beat on that score.”

  “That’s possible, but since it’s been a while for both of us, how about we rectify that?” He raised a brow in question, his dark eyes daring her.

  He couldn’t possibly be suggesting what she thought he was, could he? Despite her objections, her heart did a little pitter patter.

  “Why don’t we skip the matter and say we did.”

  “Damn, I guess that means I can’t convince you to join me for a little afternoon delight in the hay barn.”

  “Ooh.” She threw a napkin at him and hoped her face didn’t show the thoughts racing in her head at his suggestion. “Have you been in that barn lately? Trust me you don’t want to go there.”

  “I take that as a no.” He held his hand to his chest as if sorely wounded. “Perhaps next weekend, I’ll come muck out the barn and have it stocked with fresh hay, or better yet, if memory serves me right, the tack room still has a bed in it. Grampa said it was the only place he could get a nap where Gramma wouldn’t pester him.”

  Callie grinned. “I’ll pass on the tack room but watching you muck out the hay barn would be a sight worth seeing.”

  Michael laughed and began regaling her with stories about when he visited his grandparents as a kid and the time he spent playing in the barn. It was obvious he loved the old farm, and the more he talked of his memories, the more human and down-to-earth he became to her. Amy’s words rang loudly in her ear, “Once you get to know him, you just might like him.” Callie realized that’s exactly what she was afraid of, and she had way too much baggage to even consider having a relationship. A quick tryst, maybe . . .