Unpredictable Love Read online

  “Then, it’s time to get started putting your life back on track. Get up. Now, young lady! And change out of all that black stuff into something colorful. I’ll be back in five minutes, and you’d better be ready.”

  Her aunt’s stormy expression startled Jory. She’d never seen Nan like that before. She changed into jeans and a pink top, brushed her hair, put on lipstick, and went downstairs.

  “That’s much better. Jesus Christ, girl! All this and you don’t even know what he thinks.”

  “I haven’t heard. Isn’t that message enough?” Jory followed her aunt to the car.

  “Don’t jump to conclusions. Maybe something happened to him.” Jory’s deep intake of breath stopped Nan in her tracks. “I mean, I don’t know. You don’t know, either. Just get in the car.”

  The idea that Trent might have been wounded, or even killed, had never entered her mind. She sat immobile, stunned. Jory’s heart rate doubled. Her hands got clammy. “You don’t think he’s dead, do you?”

  “Good gracious! No. If he was dead, Dan would’ve heard.”

  They drove the next twenty minutes in silence. Nan kept her eyes on the road, glancing over at her niece from time to time. She chewed her lip and tapped her fingernails on the steering wheel. Jory took a sidelong look at her aunt and smelled a rat. Nan’s up to something.

  Before she could corner Nan with the third degree, the car pulled into the hospital parking lot.

  “We’ve got to ask for a Mavis Elton. She’s in charge of the volunteers,” Nan said, pushing through the revolving door, but still avoiding direct eye contact with her niece.

  The briefing lasted half an hour then Mavis took them through a tour of the wards and private rooms. They stopped in front of one doorway.

  “This soldier’s been in transit for a couple of weeks. He’s got multiple injuries. And he’s waiting for a cornea transplant. We’re looking for someone who likes to read aloud.”

  “That’s Jory. She loves to read,” Nan piped up, shoving the journalist toward the door.

  Jory stared at Nan, pushed her away, and then peered into the room. The man’s leg was in a cast and immobilized. His eyes were bandaged. There were other gauze wrappings and ace bandages, in addition to red, angry-looking cuts on his arms. He’s a mess. “What’s his name?” Jory asked.

  Mavis looked at her chart, running her finger down the page. “Staff Sergeant Trent Stevens.”

  The room began to spin. The air was sucked from Jory’s lungs. She reached out to brace herself against the wall.

  “If you like to read, then I’ll leave you here to introduce yourself. Coming, Nan?”

  “In a minute.”

  “I’ll meet you in the office.”

  Before Jory could reply, the hospital administrator was gone. “I can’t go in there.”

  “Yes, you can.” Nan pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket.

  “What’s that? My letter?” Jory gasped.

  “I didn’t mail it,” Nan admitted.

  “You didn’t what?” Jory’s blood pressure rose twenty points.

  “It’s the letter spilling the truth. I didn’t send it.”

  “You let me rot all these weeks, thinking…God knows what…and you didn’t even send it?”

  Nan shook her head. “It was a bad idea to tell him that way.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I knew you’d write a new one and send it yourself. Besides, about a week after you gave it to me, Dan told me about Trent.”

  “I was right! You were up to something. So, bringing me here was just to get me to see him. Look at him, Nan. He’s all torn up!” Tears cascaded down her face.

  “He’s alive. Pull yourself together. Go in there. Now. He needs you.”

  “He won’t know it’s me.”

  A deep, masculine voice called out. “Jory? Jory, is that you?”

  She turned to stare at her aunt and whispered. “How does he know I’m here?”

  Nan’s sheepish expression fueled Jory’s fire.

  “What else did you do, Nan?” The young woman’s face was as cloudy as a summer tornado.

  “Okay, okay. So, maybe I dabbed a little of your perfume on your letters.”

  “You what?” Jory’s eyes widened.

  “You heard me. I thought he’d get a kick out of it.”

  “Great. Now he recognizes the scent?”

  “Yep. So, you’re caught. Can’t back out. Look, I didn’t know this was gonna happen. It was simply something to make the letters a little…uh, sexier, more memorable.”

  “And it worked.”

  “Go,” Nan said, pushing her niece toward the doorway. “Go on. Make his dreams come true, honey.”

  Jory took a step into the room.

  “Is someone there? Jory? I’d recognize your perfume anywhere.”

  She inhaled a deep breath to steady her voice, but it didn’t work. She cleared her throat and took baby steps toward the bed before turning to look at Nan. Her aunt was making swirling gestures, urging her to move forward. Then, she waved and moved out of sight.

  Jory swallowed. Her mouth was as dry as burnt toast.

  “Hey, I don’t bite. Come in.”

  “Trent?”

  “That’s me.”

  He reached for her with a bandaged arm. She rested her palm in his. It was warm and dry. She pulled up a chair.

  “I can’t believe I’m finally meeting you, and I’m a mess.” He combed his fingers through his crewcut then ran them along his stubbly chin.

  “You’re not a mess. Not at all.” She said a quick prayer to negate her lie.

  “I’m in pieces. And I can’t see.”

  She squeezed his hand. You look damn good to me.

  “Bet you’re pissed. I haven’t written you in weeks.”

  “No, no, not at all. Look at you. How could you write?” What’s one more lie?

  Silence hung heavy.

  “What happened?” she whispered.

  “Bomb. Damn near took off my leg.”

  “Oh my God. I’m so sorry, Trent.”

  “Thanks.” He fell silent. He bent his head as if he was examining his hands.

  “You survived. That’s something.”

  “It’s gonna be a long road back. Hey, I don’t expect you to go on that trip with me. I get how I’m not the same guy who you wrote to. I appreciate your stopping by, but you don’t need to stay. I’m sure you’ve got a busy schedule.”

  The distant buzz of a lawn mower drew her eye to the window where she spied a stack of books. She pushed to her feet and went to examine them.

  “Thanks again. Take care,” he called out.

  “I didn’t leave. I’m by the window. Hmm. Books.” She picked four off the top.

  “They don’t do me much good. Really, you don’t have to stay.”

  “I’m here to read aloud to the man in this bed. That’s you. Which one do you want?” She read off the titles.

  “You don’t have to do this. I get it. No woman wants a messed up guy. I wouldn’t blame you.”

  “At the risk of repeating myself, I’m here to read,” she began, returning to his bedside.

  Trent reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Look! I get it. It’s okay. I wouldn’t stick around either. No one’s blaming you. You didn’t sign on for this. Walk away. Find a guy who’s whole and have a happy life.”

  “Stop telling me what to do!” She raised her voice.

  His head snapped to attention.

  After a breath, she calmed down. Her tone returned to normal. “No one knows what’s in their future. I’m here because I want to be.” She straightened, smoothing her skirt. “You can’t make me leave.” She jutted out her chin.

  “Oh, no? Try me. All I have to do is start hollerin’, and they’ll toss your sweet ass right outta here.”

  She placed her hand on his arm. “You wouldn’t do that, would you?”

  “I don’t want to drag you down this black hole wi
th me. Just go. Your letters were great. We had something special, but it’s over. The game has changed. It’s done now.”

  “My feelings haven’t changed.” She glanced down at the books then back at him.

  “Don’t put on an act for me. I’ve seen buddies get blown up. I know how it feels to be around guys fighting their way back. It’s tough. It’s miserable. I don’t want you here.”

  Tears stung. She let them fall, sniffling. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

  “See? You’re crying already. And it’s not going to get much better. Even if I get the new corneas—and that’s a big ‘if’—I don’t know how good my eyesight’ll be.”

  “Don’t predict. Just take it one day at a time.”

  “Easy for you to say. Stupid fucking platitudes.” His lips pulled down into a frown.

  “I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

  He tried to cross his arms over his chest, but cringed in pain. She saw the stitches on his forearm and biceps. His muscles bulged under the sutures. His face was as handsome as his photo. He didn’t lie.

  “You’re one fucking stubborn woman, know that?”

  “Takes one to know one. I can’t hold a candle to you,” she shot back.

  “At least I have a reason,” he replied.

  “And so do I,” she countered.

  He was his picture come to life. Even clouded with sadness and uncertainty, his face was still good looking. She wished she could wave her hand over him and make him well and happy again. Then, she reminded herself that if he was, the jig would be up, and he’d know she wasn’t Amber.

  Jory let out a long breath. Her secret was safe, for a little while longer. Although her heart ached for Trent, she rejoiced in being able to see him, touch him, and be with him. His physical limitations represented another challenge to their relationship, but one she didn’t fear. Having missed his letters so deeply, she was grateful to have him home. He’ll find out eventually. But for now, he’s mine.

  His voice broke the silence. “Sweet Thursday.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “Sweet Thursday by John Steinbeck.”

  Jory shuffled through the ones in her lap. There it was.

  “You said that was one of your favorites. Would you start with that one?”

  A broad grin split her face. “Sure. Sure. Yeah, it’s one of my favorites. But it’s a sequel. Cannery Row is the first.”

  “Read that one already. At least, a volunteer did. A week ago.”

  “You did? Did you like it?” She closed the book.

  “Of course. That’s why I want to read the next one.”

  “You don’t have to get huffy.”

  “Really? You don’t think I’ve earned the right to be a little huffy?”

  She laughed. “Okay. Point taken.”

  He pointed at her. “Read!” He sat back, laced his fingers behind his head, uttered a small groan, and spoke. “Go ahead.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Sometimes stuff hurts. Just ignore it.”

  “Really?”

  “I’m waiting.”

  “Yes, sir, Sergeant,” she said.

  Jory opened the book and thumbed through to the first chapter.

  * * * *

  After an hour, Trent fell asleep. Jory brushed a kiss lightly against his forehead before tiptoeing out of his room. She stopped in the doorway, turning for one, last look. His face wore a scowl in his sleep. Lines around his eyes deepened, and there were slight shadows under them as well. Jory chided herself for all the mean things she’d thought when she’d jumped to the conclusion he’d written her off without responding to her letter.

  Couldn’t answer a letter he didn’t get. Anger bubbled up inside her. How dare Nan keep it? Who is she to decide what I do with my life? Now, I have to deal with this, when it should have been over. She compressed her lips into a frown. She’d still have to face her day of reckoning when Trent discovered the truth.

  As she gazed at him, she realized she’d been given a second chance, time to reconsider her words. Besides, with Trent injured, all bets were off. She’d have to scrap her plan and start over. No way could she run out on him now. He needed her. Even if she wasn’t Amber, he wouldn’t know that until, and unless, he got his eyesight back. If he ever did.

  A wave of relief flooded through her as she walked down the hallway. She’d have another chance with Trent. And get to see him in the flesh, every day. Her step lightened, and a smile spread across her face.

  She let out a breath. Nan got lucky. If things hadn’t turned out this way, Jory might have moved out. Still, she’d have to give her aunt a stern talking to. No more meddling in Jory’s love life. She’d decide what to do without any interference from anyone.

  By the time Nan showed up, Jory was revved up and ready to do battle. She tried to contain herself on the ride home, but Nan wouldn’t leave it alone.

  “So? How’d it go? What did he say? Did you tell him the truth?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think you got smart and are shutting up about the truth.”

  “Why is that good?”

  “Because he’ll fall in love with you, and then he won’t care if you’ve got Amber’s breasts or not.”

  Jory sensed heat in her cheeks. “It’s none of your business, Nan. What gave you the right to keep that letter in the first place?”

  “Someone had to protect you from yourself.”

  “You made a huge mistake. That was the wrong thing to do.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You’ve got to butt out of my life.”

  “Can I help it if I care about you? If I see you stepping in front of a bus, I’m gonna stop you.”

  “Fine, if I step in front of a bus, I give you permission to stop me. But this is my life, my love life, my relationship, and you’ve no right to interfere.” Jory’s voice rose as she spoke.

  “I know I don’t. But I can’t help it. Sometimes the truth can ruin things, sweetheart. And this was one of those times. I was only going to keep it for a week. I figured you’d come to your senses and regret sending it. Then, I could tell you. Whip it out of my pocket, and you’d be on your knees with gratitude.”

  “What happened?”

  “The explosion. Dan called me.”

  “So, you’ve known all this time? And you didn’t tell me?”

  “It’s only two weeks. Well, maybe three. At first, they didn’t know if he was gonna make it. It took a while to figure out the extent of his injuries and recovery time.”

  “Don’t you think I had a right to know?”

  “Honey, if he was that bad off, I figured you’d be better off thinking he ran out on you than having to face a seriously damaged guy.”

  “Don’t you think that was my call?”

  “I know you. Loyal as a dog. You’d never leave him, even if it was the right thing to do.”

  “You’re right about that,” Jory’s voice was a whisper.

  “See? I told you. I know you. I was just looking out for you.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “He got better. Then, I figured the eyesight thing was a gift from God. Or maybe your mother, in heaven. You’d be able to be with him, and he’d never know.”

  “What happens when he gets the transplant?”

  “He’ll be so madly in love with you, he won’t care.” Nan grinned.

  “You live in a dream world.”

  “Jory, honey, I’m only doing what I think your mom would have wanted. She was my sister. I oughta know.”

  “Please stop, Nan. Stop meddling. Let me breathe. Let me live my own life. It’s okay if I mess up from time to time.”

  “Yeah? You already did. Archie.” Nan made a face. “Oh, that guy’s the pits.”

  Jory had to laugh. She knew her aunt meant well, but it boiled her blood to have someone else pulling the strings in her life. She’d been on her own for over fifteen years, since her parents had di
ed. She didn’t need a nursemaid. “I agree. Stop. Will you? Please leave Trent and me alone to work things out.”

  “Okay, okay. At least he’s back, and in one piece—more or less. You take it from here.”

  “I will.” Jory patted Nan on the shoulder. “Thanks for caring—even if it was misguided.”

  “It’s what aunts do. Besides, you’ve got a second chance because of me.”

  Nan steered the car into the driveway and put it in park. As they entered the house, they almost got knocked down by Amber, running down the steps.

  “Where are you going?” Nan asked.

  “Can’t talk. Late for a date with Troy. Concert. See ya!”

  The sound of a car horn indicated Amber’s date had arrived. She ran down the driveway and jumped into the front seat. After a quick kiss, the couple drove away.

  “I don’t have to worry about that one. Her heart isn’t easily broken. Supposing she even has one,” Nan said.

  Chapter Four

  “When are you going back to the hospital,” Nan asked as she poured coffee.

  “After work. He might be asleep, still—I’m making the effort.”

  “Oh? Is it an effort? I thought you liked reading to him.”

  “I do.” Jo added sugar.

  “Then, what’s the problem?” Nan took her mug to the table.

  “I don’t want to get any more attached.”

  Her aunt chuckled. “Maybe you’d better move to Alaska, kitten. You’re already in this one up to your neck.”

  “Have you seen East of Eden?” Jory asked, ignoring her aunt’s comment.

  “On the second shelf in the living room, last time I looked. Have you read the rest of Steinbeck?”

  “The ones we have? Yes. That’s the last one. Thought I’d start on Sinclair Lewis next.”

  Nan shook her head. “You’re turning him into you.”

  “He likes it. Told me his folks didn’t read much. He was more into sports than books.”

  “And now?”

  “Obviously, sports are out of the question. At least for now.”