Home of Her Heart (Hearts of the War Book 2) Page 15

  Full blame for her current state could be directly attributed to her heart, traitorous thing that it was. She’d known falling for a soldier would leave her heartbroken, but she’d ignored everything except how much she loved Klayne.

  And she did love him. With her whole heart.

  In spite of his absence, and silence, she loved him more each day. Part of that stemmed from how proud she was of him for selflessly serving a country that needed him, even when he knew there was a woman who desperately wanted him by her side.

  Delaney closed the lid and shoved the footlocker beneath the table, then went back out to work with the horse.

  Thirty minutes later, when she’d been so distracted the horse tossed her off for the second time, she forced her attention back to her work.

  Sore and tired when she wandered to the bunkhouse for dinner, Butch gave her a questioning look as he set biscuits and jam on the table. “Looks like you wrestled a bobcat, Girly. What happened?”

  Delaney rolled her neck and shook her arms to loosen up her tight muscles as she walked over to the deep sink and washed her hands. “That new colt I’ve been working with tossed me off a few times.”

  Butch started to offer a comment, but she cut him off with a cool glare. “It’s not his fault. I wasn’t paying attention, that’s all.”

  “That have anything to do with Lou Johnson bringing a package to the house earlier?”

  Delaney shouldn’t have been surprised Butch knew about the delivery. There were times she was sure he had eyes in the back of his head. Not ready to divulge any details, she shrugged.

  “Was it from your young man?” Butch asked as he sliced a roast.

  Delaney drained water from a pot of boiled potatoes then started mashing them. She hesitated to answer, but knew Butch would ask her dad about it later if he didn’t get the information he wanted now.

  She nodded. “It was from Klayne.”

  Butch waited for her to continue. When she remained silent, he bumped her arm with his elbow. “And? Did he say where he’s at or why he hasn’t written?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t read his letter.”

  Two shaggy eyebrows shot up toward Butch’s receding hairline. “Well, why in the heck not? You’ve been waiting to hear from him since the day he left.”

  “I know. I just wanted to wait until later, in case, you know, I, um… in case it makes me…”

  With more understanding than Delaney would have attributed to the old cowboy, he patted her shoulder. “It’s okay, Dee. You read it whenever you want. If you need me to keep your dad out of your hair this evening, I think I could find something for him to do.”

  Delaney hugged the bowlegged cowboy and gave him a weak smile. “Thanks, Butch. What would I do without you?”

  “Goodness only knows, but I hope to shout you never find out!”

  She laughed at the line she’d heard more times than she could count and finished mashing the potatoes as her dad and Duffy strolled inside, ready for dinner.

  After they ate, Delaney went out to work in the area where she planned to plant a huge garden, tilling up the soil. She and Butch always planted a large garden, but they decided to make it twice as big this year. Together, they’d discussed what to plant and where. Butch had even started some seeds, babying them along in the bunkhouse kitchen. In a few more weeks, they’d be ready to transfer to the nutrient-rich soil.

  With each minute that passed, her attention centered less on the garden and more on the footlocker awaiting her inside the house.

  Finally, she couldn’t stand the waiting, the not knowing. She stowed the garden tools in the shed near the open-ended building where they parked the vehicles then hurried inside.

  Still not quite ready to read what her husband had written, she snatched the trunk from beneath the table and carried it upstairs to her room.

  A glance at the clock on the table by the bed assured her it was getting late, so she gathered her things and went to the bathroom where she took a quick shower and washed away the day’s dirt and sweat.

  Once she was clean and dressed in a soft cotton nightgown, she settled the footlocker on the bed, slipped beneath the covers and opened it again. Eyes closed, she breathed deeply of Klayne’s scent.

  Memories triggered by the fragrance made her almost feel like he was there, holding her again. She floated in the sweet bliss of those moments until she heard the clock downstairs chime the top of the hour. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and lifted the envelope bearing her name from inside the footlocker.

  Three pages of paper crinkled in her hands as she unfolded his letter and read what he’d written.

  My Darling Wife,

  I sometimes still find it hard to believe I was fortunate enough to not only meet you, but somehow convince you to marry me. No matter what you might think after my silence all these weeks, I do miss you, Laney. More than you can ever imagine. I convinced myself it would be easier on you (on us both) if I refrained from writing to you. In truth, they’ve kept us hopping and I haven’t had much time for that sort of thing either, but that really isn’t an excuse.

  “It certainly isn’t, soldier boy,” Delaney spoke aloud then glanced toward the door to make sure her father hadn’t heard her. She listened to the silence around her and concluded he was still outside.

  Not a single day has gone by that I haven’t thought of you and wished I was there beside you. Did I tell you I watched you sleep before I left that morning back in February? Well, I did. And don’t wrinkle that adorable little nose of yours, thinking I’m being ridiculous.

  You’re gorgeous and stunning, even in your sleep. It was all I could do to keep my hands to myself, although, looking back, I don’t think I did an altogether good job of that.

  A blush seared her cheeks as she remembered every detail of that night.

  The way you snore is cute, although at first I thought perhaps Moose had somehow snuck into the room and burrowed beneath the bed. Then I realized all the earth-shattering racket came from you. The way your lips puff out with each breath, like you’re pouting, is particularly endearing.

  “I don’t snore! And I certainly don’t sound like that mangy dog.” Delaney huffed indignantly, although she smiled as she continued reading the letter.

  Lately, I’ve heard a lot of talk about what the war will mean here on the home front. Rationing will go into full effect soon, so I wanted you to know to stock up on what you can while you can. You and your dad might already have this in place, but if you can add some hives for honey, it will be a good substitute for sugar. One summer, Billy and I helped a farmer harvest honey. Mmm, boy! That was one of the sweetest, tastiest experiences of my life (with the exception of our wedding night. It is hands down the sweetest and best of anything!).

  I bet you’re blushing right now, aren’t you, Delaney?

  “How could he know that?” she wondered, pleased that he in fact knew her better than she thought. She was also impressed with his advice. She and her dad had talked just last week about getting some hives. Dill agreed to seek the advice of a man he knew in Walla Walla who raised bees.

  Joshing aside, I wanted to send you the things that I won’t be needing, at least until this mission is over. As far as I can surmise, I’ll be out of the country with whatever I can stuff in a B-4 bag. We just got orders to pull out this morning, so I’m rushing to finish this before I have to leave. No word has come down yet on where we are heading or exactly when (and I couldn’t tell you even if I did know). We’ve been advised, repeatedly, it will be dangerous and some of those going won’t make it back. I pray that we all do. Bear in mind that what we must do, we do for the good of our country regardless of our personal outcomes or safety.

  I’ll do my best to make you proud. I’ve never had anyone, other than Billy, who cared if I lived or died and I’m grateful every day for the precious gift of you.

  By now, you should have received the paperwork that lists you as my sole beneficiary in the event I don�
�t make it through this war. If you haven’t, please speak with Colonel T. Smith at Pendleton Field. He can help you.

  Thank you for asking Mr. Campanelli to get the photographs to me. They arrived without a second to spare, as I was leaving Pendleton Field. I forced myself not to look at them until we made it to our new location. If I had looked at them before I boarded the train in Pendleton, I’d never have been able to leave, especially not after I discovered your letter.

  I’ve read it so many times, the paper might fall apart soon, but I keep it in my wallet, with me at all times. I also appreciate the gift of your handkerchief. If the other fellas got a whiff of it, or caught a gander of the girl I wed, they’d never let me live down the fact I married a tempting siren.

  I hope your temper will have cooled sufficiently so as not to scorch the tough old hide right off me when I do see you again. I have much better plans in mind for when we are finally reunited.

  “Indeed, Sergeant Campbell,” Delaney muttered, touched by his efforts to tease her.

  Perhaps by the time I return, Dill will have forgiven me for marrying his only daughter without asking permission. My guess is that he’s plenty steamed about the whole thing. In fact, I bet you inherited that temper of yours from him. Am I right?

  “You have no idea, husband of mine.” She rolled her eyes before returning to the letter.

  However, if I was in his shoes, I would be angry, too.

  I’m sitting here, picturing spring at the ranch. I envision calves and foals running in the pastures, piglets with little curly tails rooting around in the mud, and everything green and fresh. Did I see a fruit orchard behind the house? If so, I’m sure the blossoms are breathtaking this time of year.

  Do me a favor? Go stand outside and draw in a deep lungful of that pure, perfect air. As the scents of earth and flowers and sunshine fill you, think of me there, right beside you. I’d stand with one hand on the curve of your marvelous waist and the other around your shoulder as we lingered on the porch after supper.

  Delaney sniffled and rubbed her nose on the edge of her sheet.

  Make no mistake about it, I will fight through anything and everything to get back to you. There is nothing in this world I want more than to hold you in my arms again. If all I had in this lifetime was one more day to spend with you, I’d somehow make it enough. You are the most vibrant, amazing, enchanting woman I’ve ever met.

  As absurd as it probably sounds, every day I’ve spent away from you only makes me love you that much more. I do love you, Delaney, with all my heart.

  Keep us all in your prayers.

  Until I can see you again, I remain faithfully yours.

  Lovingly,

  Klayne

  Before she succumbed to the sobs welling inside her, Delaney went through the contents of Klayne’s trunk. The heavy winter clothes she pulled out held the savory scent of him. She held his thick wool coat up to her face and breathed in the fragrance, breathed in the essence of him.

  Eventually, she set the coat aside and removed civilian clothes, which included a pair of plain brown cowboy boots. The fact he owned a pair surprised her as much as the worn-down heels and scuffed toes, indicating they weren’t just for show. An old shoebox with “Billy” written on the lid held letters and the last effects of Klayne’s friend, including his identification tags. A photo of a young Klayne with a blond-haired boy, both smiling and looking as though they’d been into mischief, made her wish she could have known her husband’s friend. If Klayne loved him, he must have been a good person.

  She set aside Billy’s box and continued exploring the contents of the footlocker. There were a few newspaper clippings about a drunken man going into a rage and killing a harlot at a brothel in Oklahoma. From what Klayne had shared, she knew the people mentioned were his parents.

  No wonder Klayne struggled with relationships and attachments. He’d never had a mother’s love, known the affection of parents or siblings in his formative years. He’d been shunned, tormented, and abused. She’d do well to remember his past when interacting with him in the future.

  When he came home, came back to her, she planned to give him more love and affection than he’d ever imagined possible.

  In a ratty wool sock that looked like mice had gnawed on the toe, she found a roll of money. Quickly tallying the bills, she came up with more than three thousand dollars. He’d scribbled a note and attached it to one of the bills with a paper clip.

  “Never put all your eggs in one basket, or all your money in the bank!”

  Sage advice, Delaney thought as she rolled the money together, and stuffed it back inside the sock.

  Several books added weight to the footlocker. A few titles she recognized from books she herself had read. Others were authors new to her and she set those books aside, planning to read them when she had more time.

  The last thing she pulled from the trunk was a large envelope tucked flat against the side. It looked as though it had been handled frequently. Inside were two of the photographs Tony had taken on her wedding day. Klayne looked so handsome in his uniform, and they both appeared so happy, so in love. She had been happier than she could remember in her life, until she awoke to find him gone.

  Delaney had several prints Tony had made for her, but since the mere thought of Klayne sent her father into a blistering rage, she’d refrained from setting any of them out. They remained with her other treasured keepsakes in a small trunk in the back of her closet. In deference to her father’s feelings, and for fear of losing it, she’d removed her wedding ring and left it in her jewelry box along with the beautiful pearl necklace.

  Suddenly overcome with emotion, Delaney could no longer keep her tears at bay. She wept for the naïve girl she’d been, for the husband she missed, for the danger he’d put himself in. She ached for the childhood he’d never had and the love she longed to give him. She mourned the boy he’d befriended and those who would surely die in this horrible war.

  Her father found her there, crying into her pillow with her wedding photo held in one hand and Klayne’s coat in the other with the contents of the footlocker spread all around her.

  “Aw, Sis,” Dill said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and patting her on the shoulder. Delaney lifted a tear-stained face and he opened his arms to her. She sobbed against the soft, worn fabric of his cotton work shirt.

  “Shh, baby girl. What’s wrong? It can’t be as bad as all that,” he said, then glanced around realizing the footlocker must belong to Klayne. Concerned, he pushed her back and gave her a worried look. “Klayne’s not… he wasn’t killed in action, was he?”

  Delaney mopped at her tears with her sheet and shook her head. “No. He’s leaving on some secret mission and has no idea when he’ll be back. He shipped his belongings here. And I just…” Her breath caught in her throat and she had to swallow back her tears. “I miss him so much, Dad. I know you think he’s terrible, but he really is a good person.”

  “I know, sweetheart. If he wasn’t, you would never have married him.” Dill pulled her into a comforting hug, stroking his big hand over her mussed hair. “I’m sorry, Dee. I wasn’t so much mad at Klayne as I am this war. With your brother off goodness only knows where, Carol trying to manage the farm and raise Ryatt alone, and your young man off to fight some unnamed enemy, it just made me mad that there has to be war and death and destruction before there can be peace.”

  “But, Dad, you said you’d shoot Klayne if he ever so much as thought about showing his face here. You said he was a cowardly, oily-tongued reprobate and…” Delaney sat up and stared at her father when he motioned for her to be silent.

  “I know what I said, but you obviously love him, Sis. Put up your wedding pictures and talk about him if you want. You shouldn’t have to pretend he doesn’t exist. When he comes back to the ranch, we’ll figure things out.”

  “Thank you, Daddy!” Delaney cried, throwing her arms around him again. When she pulled back this time, she held out the two wedding p
hotos to him, since he hadn’t seen the images Tony had taken.

  “You do make a handsome couple,” Dill said with a crooked grin. “You look so much like your mother, Sis. Just as spunky and lively, and full of sass.”

  Delaney grinned. “But my temper and stubbornness is all from you.”

  He pinched her cheek and rose from the bed. “And that smart mouth, too. I love you, baby girl. All I want is for you to be happy, and if this soldier makes you happy, then I hope he comes back to you.”

  “Me, too, Dad. Me, too.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  A few weeks later, on a lovely mid-April day, Delaney’s troubled thoughts kept her from concentrating on roguing the rye out of the wheat fields. The work was tedious and backbreaking, but had to be done to remove the rye that grew wild among the winter wheat.

  She’d labored all morning in a field with Duffy and her father, but her thoughts were with Klayne and not her work.

  The fourth time she accidentally pulled up wheat instead of rye, Dill scowled at her. “Sis, you’re doing more harm than good at this point. I think you need a break. Go to the house, put on a nice dress, and take yourself into town to visit Amy. The rye will still be here tomorrow.”

  “But, Dad, we’re already behind…”

  Her father held up his hand and frowned. “I’m setting my foot down. Now, get out of here. Bring home a coffee cake for breakfast, and maybe some doughnuts if they have any left. We’ve got a crew of kids coming this weekend to help. Everything will be okay.”

  Delaney smiled, gave her father a quick hug, then walked to the house. Normally, a visit with Amy cheered her up, but Delaney couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.