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

  They’d just heard from Mac that he was fine. Carol had sent a note all was well with her and Ryatt. The high school students her father hired would help them get the work schedule back on track.

  That only left Klayne and his well-being in question. Delaney couldn’t pinpoint what or why she felt such a terrible, immediate need to pray for his safekeeping, but she did.

  Her thoughts lingered on him as she hurried to bathe and change into a dress. All the way to town, she contemplated where he could be and what sort of trouble might be plaguing him.

  Rather than go straight to the bakery, Delaney parked her pickup halfway between the bakery and the church. Filled with hope that the bright sunshine and fresh air would help clear her mind, she strolled with unhurried steps to the church.

  On the sidewalk in front of the familiar structure, she stood gazing up at the church building she’d attended all her life. Her parents had wed there. It was also where they’d held services when her grandparents and then her mother had died. It had been a place she’d laughed and cried, been convicted and repented.

  Today, though, she sought solace.

  The old oak door creaked as she pushed it open and walked into the cool interior of the entry. The scent of lemon oil and aged wood greeted her. The familiar scents were comforting as she moved into the sanctuary and trailed her fingers along the edges of the pews.

  At the front of the church, she took a seat on a wooden bench, long ago worn smooth from pants and skirts brushing over it during services.

  She set down her handbag, removed her hat and gloves, and rested in the quiet, letting the peace seep into her soul and calm her troubled mind. Time passed by as she let her thoughts drift and prayers ascend. Eventually, she pinned on her hat, smoothed gloves on her fingers, picked up the handbag, and headed back out into the warm spring day.

  Amy glanced up in surprise when Delaney walked inside the bakery. “Oh, Dee! I haven’t seen you in ages,” she said, hurrying around the counter to give her a hug. “What are you doing in town today? I didn’t know you ever left the ranch these days, except for church and supplies.”

  Delaney forced a smile and allowed Amy to guide her over to an empty table. “Dad practically threw me off the place. He told me I needed a break and insisted I bring home coffee cake and doughnuts, if you have any.”

  A laugh burst out of her friend. “What is it with your dad and coffee cake? I think he’s our best customer.”

  “He really likes a slice of it with his coffee in the morning.” Delaney glanced around, noticing the bakery seemed quiet, but then again, the afternoon was half-gone and they’d soon close for the day. “How have you been?”

  Amy looked at some unknown spot over Delaney’s shoulder. “Just fine.”

  “Oh, you aren’t telling me something,” Delaney said, leaning closer to her friend. “Out with it! What’s going on?”

  “Marc Rawlings asked me out again,” Amy whispered, appearing quite pleased by the fact.

  “Did you tell him yes?”

  Amy nodded. “Of course! How could I tell a swell fella like him no. He’s got those dreamy green eyes and broad shoulders and…”

  Delaney giggled. “I think you’re sweet on him.”

  Amy feigned insult, lifting her nose in the air, before grinning. “I do really like him, Dee. He’s such a gentleman, and he’s fun. I’m worried, though, that he’ll leave soon. He’s been talking about enlisting if he isn’t drafted by the first of May.”

  “Oh, Amy. I’m sorry. It’s so hard to think of all our young men off at war. I try to remind myself that what they are doing is something necessary and of great value to not only our country, but the other Allies.”

  “I know. Still, it doesn’t make it any easier to let him go. Why, I just hate the thought of something happening to him. What if he’s like Klayne and…” Amy snapped her mouth shut and shot Delaney and apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Dee. I know you don’t like to talk about him.”

  “Actually, he’s the reason I feel so unsettled today. I just can’t get him off my mind. There’s no reasonable way to explain it, but I have this niggling feeling that something happened, that something is wrong.” Delaney reached across the table and squeezed Amy’s hand. “Is that batty? I mean, we were only married such a short time before he left, but do you think it’s possible to have a bond with him, one that says there’s something very wrong?”

  “Oh, Dee.” Amy offered her a teary look filled with sympathy. “I don’t think it matters how long you knew Klayne before you wed. The important thing is that you love each other. It’s as plain as the nose on your face that he’s crazy about you and I know you’re in love with him. It seems reasonable to me that you’d feel a bond with him. After all, he is your husband.”

  Delaney took a deep breath, followed by another to stay the tears that wanted to flow out of her eyes and down her cheeks. She forced a smile and patted Amy’s hand. “Let’s talk about something else, something cheerful.”

  “Well, I heard that Clarence Mills told Ina…”

  The remainder of the afternoon, Delaney did her best to focus on Amy’s chatter. She even pulled on an apron and helped clean up once the bakery closed for the afternoon. Amy boxed up a coffee cake along with leftover doughnuts and two dozen cookies for Delaney to take home with her.

  When she gathered her things to leave, Amy gave her a long hug. “Don’t fret, Dee. Klayne will be fine. I just know it.”

  Amy didn’t sound any more certain of Klayne’s safety than Delaney felt, but she merely smiled at her friend and nodded. “I’m sure I’m just being a goose.”

  “A silly one at that,” Amy teased, walking her outside. “See you at church Sunday?”

  “We’ll be there,” Delaney said, waving once then hurrying back to her vehicle.

  On the drive home, her thoughts once again turned to Klayne. Unsettled by the urgent need she felt to pray for him, she sent up dozens of heartfelt pleas for his safekeeping.

  She parked the pickup, carried the sweets inside the kitchen, and then strolled over to the bunkhouse where she knew the men would be sitting down to eat supper.

  “Dee!” Butch exclaimed as she walked inside. “We about gave up on you coming back. Dill thought maybe you decided to run away from home, but I reminded him you haven’t done that since you were six.”

  “Seven,” she said, taking a seat at the table and nodding at Duffy as he passed her a platter of fried chicken. “I was seven the last time I ran away and that was because Mac refused to take me with him to town. I wanted to get an ice cream at the drug store and he told me I couldn’t go because he was meeting a girl. So I decided to run off.”

  Dill chuckled. “And you packed your little suitcase and made it all the way to the end of the lane before you got tired of lugging it. You sat down there for two hours, waiting for someone to fetch you.” He winked at Delaney. “Your mama wanted to go get you five minutes after you left, but I told her to let you stew awhile. She was a nervous wreck by the time you finally got yourself back home. Of course, we kept an eye on you the whole time.”

  “You did?” Delaney stared at her father. “All I remember is waiting and waiting for someone to miss me and nobody did. I decided I’d stay down there all night, if that’s what it took, but then I got hungry and had to come home.”

  “See,” Butch chortled. “This girl will never miss out on a meal if she can help it.”

  Delaney lifted a piece of golden brown chicken in her fingers. “Darn tootin’, especially if I don’t have to cook it!”

  The men all laughed. Delaney shared some of the news she gleaned from Amy about happenings in town. She avoided mentioning anything to do with the war, Klayne, or the horrible feeling she had in the pit of her stomach that something had happened to him.

  The lively discussion about a meet your neighbor banquet, an A Cappella choir performance, and the Red Cross offering home nursing classes kept her mind off Klayne for a little while.

&
nbsp; She helped Butch with the dishes while her dad and Duffy finished the evening chores. Exhausted from a day of worry, she went to bed early and fell into a fitful sleep.

  In the wee hours of the morning, she awakened, drenched in sweat, heart pounding, sure that Klayne had been injured or killed. In a dream, she watched the plane he was on crash into the ocean repeatedly.

  Unaware that she’d screamed in her sleep, she yelped in surprise when her Dad thudded into her room and flicked on a light. “Tarnation, Sis! Are you dying? Are you hurt? What’s all the ruckus about?”

  Her father observed the terror in her widened eyes and the shallowness to her rapid breathing. He sat on the edge of her bed and placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. “What happened, Delaney? What’s wrong?”

  She sighed and leaned back against the headboard, running a hand through her tangled hair. “All day, I had this feeling something is wrong with Klayne. Then I kept dreaming he was in a plane that crashed in the ocean. I watched it fall over and over again.”

  “Ah, Sis, I’m sorry,” Dill said, giving her a fatherly hug then kissing her forehead. “Let me get you a drink of cool water then you settle back down and see if you can get some rest. You just look plumb done in.”

  “I feel done in, Dad. Like my heart’s made of glass and it’s about to break into a million pieces.”

  “Dang it, Dee. This is exactly why I…” His mouth snapped shut at her frosty glare. Without saying another word, he got her a glass of water and gave it to her, withholding his thoughts on her marrying a soldier.

  She took a long drink from the glass then scooted back down in bed. Dill brushed a hand over her head and gave her a sad smile, one full of compassion. “I’m sorry, Sis, that you have to go through this. It’s bad enough that Mac’s getting ready to head into battle, but now you have the added worry of Klayne. For your sake, sweetheart, I hope he’s well and safe.”

  “Me, too, Daddy,” Delaney whispered. “Thank you.”

  Dill turned off the light and left the room. Delaney stared into the darkness for a long time. Finally, she got up and retrieved a scarf from Klayne’s footlocker. She held it to her face and breathed in his scent, praying he was alive.

  The next time Delaney awakened, light filtered around the edges of her drapes, alerting her she’d slept in.

  She started to jump out of bed, but was so woozy, she fell back and waited for the world to stop spinning around her.

  When the dizziness passed, she slowly sat up and put her feet on the floor. She’d taken two steps across the room when her stomach revolted and she raced down the hall to the bathroom.

  Weak and trembling after losing the contents of her stomach, she sat on the edge of the bathtub, holding her head in her hands and wondering what in the world was wrong with her.

  Her heart still felt heavy, her mind inundated with worry for Klayne. With her stomach upset and chills racing over her clammy body, she wondered if perhaps she was battling a nasty bout of some stomach ailment. Perhaps a day of rest would be all she needed to feel better.

  She staggered back to bed but couldn’t sleep. Her thoughts continued spinning around Klayne and if he was safe. After taking a quick shower and dressing, she heard raised voices downstairs. Hurried steps carried her to the kitchen where her father, Butch, and Duffy hovered around the radio Dill had given her for her twentieth birthday. She’d loved the butterfly design on the front of it and left it on the counter by the bread box, listening to it when she spent time in the kitchen.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, stepping next to her dad.

  “Shh!” Butch warned and pointed to the radio.

  “In case you missed the earlier announcement, this news just in!” the reporter chirped in an excited tone. “The United States of America has taken the war to the heart of Japan. According to reports, they struck Tokyo along other cities in a daring daylight raid, dropping bombs and leaving a wide path of destruction. Japanese broadcasts say the insignia of the United States Army Air Force was visible on the planes. The bravery of the yet to be identified men will go down as the most daring air assault in history. Authorities in Japan claim to have shot down nine planes. We await confirmation on details. As soon as more information becomes available, we’ll let you know. Now, tune in for…”

  Delaney’s legs turned to rubber and she would have toppled over right there on the kitchen floor if Butch hadn’t noticed her swaying. “Grab her before she falls!”

  Dill helped her over to a kitchen chair and fanned a dishtowel in front of her face while Butch got her a glass of water. “Drink this, Girly,” he said, pushing the glass into her hands.

  Fear unlike any she’d ever known seized her by the throat while her stomach roiled. She didn’t know how or why she knew, but she had no doubt in her mind that Klayne was among the men who’d bombed Japan. What if his plane was one that had been shot down by the enemy?

  “What’s wrong, Sis?” Dill asked, hunkering down in front of her and pressing the back of his weathered hand to her forehead. “You don’t have a fever. Are you ailing?”

  She shook her head and forced herself to sip the water. “I’m fine, Dad.”

  “No, you aren’t fine. Come on, tell us what’s wrong. You seemed okay when you came downstairs.” Dill stood and stared down at her, arms crossed over his broad chest.

  “I was… it’s just the radio report, the bombing, it… I think maybe…”

  Dill’s face paled and he plunked into the chair beside her, gaping at her. “You don’t think… are you saying that he…?”

  “What in tarnation are you two muttering?” Butch asked, glaring at them both.

  Dill glanced at his daughter then turned back to his friend. “Delaney thinks Klayne was one of the men who bombed Tokyo.”

  “Klayne? That’s the boy who, the one you…” Butch stammered. He’d promised not to mention her husband to anyone, and he hadn’t. As much as it pained him to keep his mouth shut, he hadn’t even said a word about the soldier to Dill.

  Delaney sighed and looked from her father to Butch, then to Duffy. “For those who don’t know, I married a soldier stationed at Pendleton Field back in February. That is information I prefer remain confidential,” she said, staring at Duffy until the man nodded in agreement. “I don’t know for a fact Klayne was involved in the raid, but I’ve just had this feeling something happened to him, something horrible. I can’t shake it and after hearing the news on the radio, I feel some inexplicable certainty he’s tied to the bombings. That’s his job, a bombardier. He volunteered for a secret, dangerous mission. He didn’t even know what it was, just that it would be hazardous. Chances of surviving it were slim, or so he said.”

  Dill placed a hand over Delaney’s as it rested on the table. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, Sis. Why, that boy might be somewhere safe and cozy right now. You can’t know for certain he was involved in the raid.”

  “I know that, Dad. I know it’s silly to be this worried about him, but my gut says he was there and something is terribly, horribly wrong.” Delaney looked at the three men, waiting for one of them to assure her she was jumping to conclusions and panicking for no reason. When they remained oddly silent, she knew she couldn’t sit there any longer with them waiting for her to fall apart.

  She stood and moved toward the back door. “Come on. Don’t we have work to see to?”

  “We sure do, Girly,” Butch said, giving Dill a look full of wary concern. Dill shrugged as he and Duffy followed him outside.

  Delaney rode in the farm truck out to the wheat field with the three men to help pull out the rye by hand. By noon, her back hurt, sweat trickled down the sides of her face, and she was dying to sit next to the radio, listening for more news, but she kept working. Butch made sandwiches for them to eat, which they did, then got back to work.

  Butch ambled back to the bunkhouse an hour before dinnertime to fix the meal. She walked into the bunkhouse with Duffy and her dad, ears tuned to the radio, anxious to hear ano
ther news report. When no new information was forthcoming, she returned outside, finished her evening chores, rode one of the geldings she was training, and even spent the last half hour before dark working in the garden.

  Weary beyond endurance, she took a bath, soaking her tired muscles, and then climbed into bed. As sleep tugged her eyes closed, she sent up another prayer for Klayne.

  The following morning, Delaney awakened herself calling out Klayne’s name. She dreamed he was lost in a swirling darkness and she couldn’t reach him. He called to her, begging her for help, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t find him.

  Frightened, she allowed herself to cry for him, to pray for him, to plead for him to come home.

  Delaney started to get up but was assaulted by another wave of dizziness. Rather than fight it, she waited for it to pass then carefully made her way to the bathroom. She managed to get dressed before her stomach turned on her.

  When she finally made it outside, she veered far away from the bunkhouse where the smells of bacon and coffee lingered in the air, making her grimace.

  “This is ridiculous,” she muttered as she pulled on her gloves and made her way out to the wheat field.

  The following three mornings she felt fine, but she spent the next week battling sickness each morning. She also battled against the despair settling over her. No solid details about the Tokyo raiders were reported. Every headline that mentioned the assault, every mention of Japan on the radio station drew her full attention, but she still had no idea who was involved and if Klayne was okay.

  Whether he was involved or not, it was clear the bombs on Japan had accomplished two important tasks. The first was to prove to Japan’s leaders they weren’t beyond being attacked on their home front. From the reports she’d heard and the articles in the newspaper, the country had been in a panic after the bombing. Although the losses seemed minimal in the grand scheme of things, it was the psychological damage that created an American triumph, shattering the illusion Japan’s leaders had created of them being untouchable by outside forces.