Dream of Her Heart Page 5

  Determined to clear all domestic delusions from his mind, he inhaled a cleansing breath as they made their way back to the car. They stopped in each town they came to, inquiring if anyone had seen Rock, but no one had.

  Tired and disheartened, they were on their way back to Portland when Billie pointed out the window at the marquee sign above a small movie theater. “Oh, look at that.”

  Zane glanced at the name of the movie playing and grinned. “Want to see it?” he asked, slowing the car.

  She started to say no. He could almost hear her decline, but then she nodded her head. “I’d love to. And it looks like something you might enjoy. At least it should be funny.”

  “Let’s do it, then.” Zane drove around the block and parked the car. Together, they hurried to the ticket window. “Two for Ride ’Em Cowboy, please.”

  “Here you are, sir,” the ticket agent said, taking Zane’s money and sliding the tickets to him. “Enjoy the show.”

  “Is it as funny as I’ve heard?” Billie asked.

  The ticket agent grinned. “It’s a barrel of laughs.”

  Inside, Zane guided Billie to the concession stand. “Popcorn? Candy? Pop?”

  “Yes,” she said, grinning. He ordered popcorn and a bottle of Dr. Pepper while she chose a box of milk duds. “Mind if we share?” she asked, pointing to his drink and popcorn.

  “Not at all,” he said and started to take out his wallet, but Billie insisted on paying for the treats.

  Zane balked at her paying, but instead of making a scene he let her. Perhaps she didn’t want him to get the idea they were on a date, which they weren’t. They merely needed a break from the exhausting and utterly fruitless search for Rock.

  They found seats at the back of the nearly empty theater and settled in to watch the show. A newsreel showed clips of the British army battling against Germans, the Flying Tigers with their planes, and cadets at West Point training.

  The footage made Zane eager to get back into action with his comrades instead of being grounded at Pendleton Field. Not that the work he’d been doing there wasn’t important, but he missed being in the thick of things.

  When the newsreel showed a Japanese submarine and American planes bombing it, Billie reached over and squeezed his hand. He turned his over, glad she didn’t pull back when their palms connected. A jolt, like he’d grabbed onto a live wire, skittered up his arm and down to his toes. She turned to him in the muted light and smiled.

  In that moment, Zane decided he’d relish the time he spent with her in the darkened theater and not worry about the world outside. At least not until the end of the movie.

  Five minutes after the movie started, she dumped her box of candy in with his popcorn and told him it was much better that way, then she’d stolen a sip of his pop and cast him a flirty smile.

  If the movie hadn’t been too hilarious to ignore, he would have spent all his time focusing on Billie. Each time she glanced at him, each time their fingers brushed when they both reached for popcorn, each time she bumped against his shoulder, it fired all of his senses until he felt like his nerve endings were ablaze and attuned only to her.

  For the next hour and a half, Zane chuckled at the antics of Bud Abbot and Lou Costello as they portrayed two peanut vendors from New York who wound up as cowhands on a dude ranch out West. The merriment was a welcome diversion both from his worries and his attraction to Billie. From the way she laughed and giggled, he figured she needed the lighthearted reprieve, too.

  When the theater lights came on and the credits rolled, she dabbed at the moisture in her eyes and released a long breath.

  “Oh, I haven’t laughed like that in forever. Thank you, Zane.”

  “It was your idea to stop, so thank you.” He grinned at her as he stood then held out a hand to help her to her feet.

  She placed her hand in his and stood, but didn’t untangle their entwined fingers as they made their way back to the lobby.

  “I’m going to freshen up, but I won’t be long,” she said, making her way to the restroom.

  Zane tossed away their garbage, washed his hands in the washroom, and then returned to the lobby. He took out the photo of Rock and asked the people working there if they’d seen his friend, but no one had.

  He couldn’t fathom how Rock had so completely and thoroughly disappeared, but he had.

  “Any luck?” Billie asked from beside him as he stared at the image he held in his hand.

  “Nope.” He tucked the photograph in his pocket then turned to her. “Ready to go?”

  “Yes, I am.” She walked out the door he held open for her and together they returned to the car. Once again back on the road, Zane glanced at his watch. “The ticket agents should have changed shifts at the bus station. Would you like to go with me to talk to the man the agent mentioned earlier or would you prefer to go home?”

  Billie leaned back against the leather seat and turned her head his direction. “If you’ve no objection, I’d like to go with you.”

  Pleased she wasn’t tired of his company, at least not yet, he nodded. “That’s great. Maybe we can have dinner afterward.”

  “I’d like that. I know a nice little restaurant if you like good old American cooking.”

  He smiled. “That’s my favorite kind.”

  Half an hour later, he parked at the bus station, opened Billie’s door, and took her hand in his. They moved into the ticket line and waited their turn to speak with the ticket agent.

  As they waited, Billie intermittently whispered funny lines from the movie and quietly giggled. Zane had all he could do not to burst into all-out laughter each time she did it. She was the most fun female he’d ever been around, and he’d been around many.

  Mostly, he’d date a girl once or twice and move on before she heard wedding bells chime or started choosing wallpaper for the house they’d never have together. He had no desire for lasting attachments or long-term relationships. Not when his country needed his full attention and devotion.

  But Billie Brighton was exactly the type of girl who could make a man wish for a cozy home and a happily ever after. Despite his head telling him to keep up his guard and not let Billie work her way past his defenses, his heart encouraged him to open the door and invite her in.

  “Where to, folks?” the ticket agent asked when they reached the front of the line.

  “Have you seen this man?” Zane asked, handing the photo he’d shown to dozens of people that afternoon to the agent. “He would have purchased a ticket Monday evening. Might not have looked well.”

  The agent studied the photo, holding it up to examine it in better light, then scratched his chin, deep in thought.

  “I kinda do recall seeing a soldier who looked like him. He acted either drunk or sick, I couldn’t tell for certain. Only had thirty cents and wanted to know how far that would take him.” The man handed the photo back to Zane.

  “Did he buy a ticket? Where did he go?” Zane asked impatiently.

  Billie settled a hand on his arm and nudged him over. She gifted the agent with a sweet smile and leaned toward him. “He’s a dear friend and we’re concerned about him. Anything you can remember would be so helpful.”

  The agent stared at Billie in open admiration and nodded at her. “Well, it seems like he took the bus to Beaverton. It’s right over there if you want to ask the driver, but no hitching a ride without a ticket.”

  Billie’s smile widened. “Thank you. You’ve been most obliging. Have a lovely evening.” She grabbed Zane’s arm and tugged on it, pulling him out of line.

  He glared at her as they walked to the bus. “Use those feminine wiles often to get your way?”

  She batted her eyelashes at him in an exaggerated fashion, then wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue, making a silly face.

  Zane couldn’t help but smile. “You’re a loon, Billie Brighton.”

  “So I’ve been told,” she said, then stepped behind him as they reached the bus.

  Zane hu
rried up the steps and held out the photo to the driver. “Did you see this man on Monday evening? He might have had a ticket to Beaverton and he probably didn’t act quite right.”

  The man nodded his head. “Sure did. He sat right there,” the man pointed to a seat in the front. “Fell asleep about a minute after we left the station. He slept through his stop and it was three or four miles later before I realized he was riding for free. I sure hated to kick him off the bus with a storm brewing, but I can get in trouble for that kind of thing.”

  Zane glanced back at Billie with a hopeful look. “That’s great news. Do you remember exactly where you let him off?”

  “Well, I’m not sure. I probably could remember on the route, but…”

  “We’ll follow you in our car. When you get to the stop where you let him out, just honk your horn.” Zane backed down the steps. “Do you remember anything else about him? Did you see where he went once you let him off?”

  “Nope. He acted like he was drunk or in a stupor. I assumed he’d find somewhere to sleep it off. Is he in trouble?”

  “No. Just sick. Very sick.” Zane stepped off the bus. “Thank you for your help. And remember to honk when you get to the right stop.”

  “I will.” The driver looked over the heads of people getting on the bus and nodded once at Zane.

  He took Billie’s hand in his and they hurried back to the car.

  For the next hour, they drove behind the bus, following it and waiting with growing frustration at each stop.

  Finally, the bus pulled in at a stop out in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere. No one was waiting to board and no one on the bus got off, but the driver honked three times and waved a hand out the window.

  Zane parked the car and he and Billie got out, walking around the stop, looking for clues. None were forthcoming.

  Billie sank onto the bench under the small cover at the stop. “If it was you who’d been in the hospital, diagnosed to die, and you decided to go home. What would you do?” she asked, glancing up at Zane. “If you were tossed off the bus at this stop, in the dark and the rain, what would you do?”

  Zane looked up and down the road. “I’d walk that way, but I don’t know if he’d stay on this road or go a different direction.”

  Billie stepped beside him again. She pointed west. “Is that a crossroad in the distance?”

  “Yep, it sure is.” Tired, overwrought with emotions, and angry that Rock had done such a reckless thing, he kicked a rock and tamped down the urge to punch something.

  Much to his surprise and delight, arms wrapped around him from behind and gave him a hug. Billie’s warmth enveloped him — her sweetness infectious, her kindness contagious.

  The tension that had been twirling through his midsection loosened and he drew in a deep breath before turning around and returning her hug. Several moments, several heartbeats passed before either of them moved.

  When she pulled back, he tenderly clasped her chin in his hand and smiled. “Thank you for that, Billie, girl. I didn’t realize how much I needed a hug.”

  “We all need hugs, Zane. Even rough and tumble cowboys turned soldiers like you.” She walked toward the car and grinned at him over her shoulder. “Come on, let’s see if we can figure out which direction Rock went.”

  Five minutes later, they stopped in the middle of the road, staring at the crossroad ahead of them. Billie pointed to the left. “Isn’t that the produce stand we drove past earlier?”

  “It sure is,” Zane said, turning onto the side road they’d driven on earlier. He drove in front of the house, gravel crunching beneath their tires and parked. “Shall we see if anyone is home?”

  “Yes,” Billie said, hurrying out of the car and preceding Zane down the walk after he opened the gate to the yard.

  They went up the steps and he tapped on the door. Silence echoed around them as they waited.

  Zane pulled open the screen door and rapped loudly on the wooden door then let the screen slap shut.

  Still nothing.

  He tried to peer in the window by the door, but the house looked empty. Forlorn. Abandoned.

  “I don’t think anyone is here.”

  “If this did belong to the Japanese family Rock mentioned, they’re most likely at the assembly center.” Billie gave his hand a squeeze then turned and led the way back to the car.

  Neither of them spoke as they drove out to the road. “We didn’t see anything earlier when we were on this road,” Zane said, feeling defeated. “I don’t know which way to go to look for Rock.”

  “It’s entirely possible someone picked him up and gave him a ride. We know he made it as far as the bus stop back there,” Billie pointed down the road in the direction they’d come. “And we also know he has not returned to his family farm. It means he has to be somewhere between the two points.”

  “Unfortunately, there’s more than twenty miles between those two points and any number of places he could be.” Zane sighed and removed his hat, forking his hand through his hair. He cast a quick glimpse at Billie and caught her watching him with an odd look on her face. One he couldn’t quite decipher. “Shall we eat dinner, then try this again tomorrow? I don’t think we’ll find any more clues tonight.”

  “That sounds like a good idea,” Billie said, giving him an affirmative nod.

  “Tell me how to find that restaurant you mentioned earlier,” he said as they headed back toward Portland.

  Two and a half hours later, Zane pulled up in front of the rooming house where Billie lived and parked. He turned in the seat to face her and took her hand in his. “Thanks for coming with me today, Billie. In spite of the reason, I truly enjoyed spending time with you.”

  “I enjoyed the day with you, too. The movie was perfect.” She squeezed his hand then cast a cautious look at the big Victorian house. The flutter of curtains in a front window made her stiffen. “I better get going. The warden is watching out the window.”

  Zane chuckled. “And I bet she’s a stickler for rules, especially no boys allowed. Is that right?”

  “Why, Lieutenant West, have you been here before?” she gave him an observant look. “You’ve no doubt snuck in to one or two places you shouldn’t have been. Is that right?”

  He started to answer, but she held up a hand. “No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

  She reached for his hand again, giving it a final squeeze. “Thank you for everything, Zane. If you want help searching tomorrow, let me know. I have the day off.”

  “Why don’t I pick you up after breakfast and we can drive back to where we left off this evening?” He hated to say good night, to tell her goodbye, but at least he had one more day with her before he had to leave. If they persisted, perhaps they’d discover Rock’s whereabouts tomorrow. It was as though he could feel the presence of his friend nearby, but he had no idea why, or where to look for him.

  “I’ll be ready. Have a nice evening, Zane.”

  “You, too, Billie, girl.”

  Zane started to get out to open her door, but she shook her head. “It’s better if I just go in. Good night.”

  She opened the door and jumped out of the car, hurrying up the walk. At the front door, she turned and gave him a brief wave before disappearing inside.

  Zane smiled all the way back to the hotel where he was staying, wondering why he’d finally met a girl who could turn his heart to mush when he had no time for such foolishness.

  His father had once said something about love knowing no time or season. Evidently, his dad had been right.

  Chapter Four

  “I’d so hoped we’d find him today,” Billie said as she and Zane sat at a picnic table in a small park and ate the hamburgers he’d insisted on buying for their dinner.

  Zane looked as crushed as she felt that their search for Rock hadn’t turned up a single lead. After he picked her up at the boarding house early that morning, they’d driven back to where the bus driver said he’d kicked Rock off the bus. They stoppe
d at every house, every business, every wide spot in the road between there and the farm, but not a single person had seen him.

  Disheartened, they’d driven back to Portland. Billie was glad when Zane suggested they get some dinner and take it to a nearby park to eat. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him, even though she knew he had to leave in the morning for California. Although she’d only met him a few days ago, she felt like she’d known him forever. When he left, he’d take a piece of her with him. A part of her heart she vowed she’d never give away.

  Perhaps that was for the best. With Zane, there was no danger of her becoming too attached to him since she’d likely never see him again.

  If she believed in fairytales and whirlwind romances, she’d admit she’d fallen head over heels in love with him the moment she turned around and saw him in the hospital. But that was ridiculous. Wasn’t it?

  Of course it was. She had her nursing career and plans for her future. Plans that absolutely did not include a soldier, no matter how handsome, charming, sweet, and kind that man happened to be.

  Zane slumped across the table from her, leaning on one elbow as he toyed with his French fries instead of eating them. “I was just sure we’d find him, or at least find someone who’d seen him. How could he just disappear? Maybe someone with underhanded schemes happened upon him? What if…”

  Billie reached over and placed her hand on Zane’s. “Don’t say it, let alone think it. Rock will turn up one of these days, and when he does, we’ll all be surprised.”

  Zane nodded, although it was a half-hearted effort at best. He ate a few more fries then leaned back and looked around the park. Since they were the only ones there, he’d left the radio playing in the car to break the quiet that settled around them.

  Thunder boomed overhead and they both looked up. Billie didn’t relish the idea of getting soaked, but the sky wasn’t that dark. A chance existed the storm would roll on by.

  She gathered the trash from their meal and carried it to the garbage can then brushed off her hands. Drops of rain started to fall and she looked up as Zane stepped in front of her.