Pearl Valley Read online

“No need. I just live around the corner.”

  He gnawed on his lip. “Then can I walk you home?”

  The childlike innocence he displayed, caused her to say, “I guess so.”

  They walked along the sidewalk. Five minutes later they reached her house. Underneath the stone archway, which led from the road to the house, Janie stopped. What now?

  “I guess I should let you go,” he said. He turned to walk away, his broad shoulders slumped.

  Janie looked over her shoulder. The house lights were off, and her home looked lonely. Making a hasty decision, she said, “Would you like to come inside for a glass of iced tea?”

  He faced her. A wide smile graced his face. “I would like that.”

  Why was it the more she was with Trevor, the shyer they became around one another? She would have to rectify that.

  Inside the house, she directed him to the kitchen while she went upstairs and changed into a pair of khaki capris and a red t-shirt. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail as she bounded downstairs.

  Trevor sat at the island and looked out the kitchen window. He turned when she entered the room.

  She filled two glasses with tea and said, “How about we take them onto the back porch?”

  He nodded.

  Outside, they sat at a small round table. Janie pulled her knees up to her chest, and Trevor extended his legs to their full length.

  “You have a nice place here,” he said.

  “Oh, thank you. It was built at the turn of the century by a Civil War veteran. My parents bought it after they married. I live here with my father, but he is rarely ever home. He says it is easier to just stay in the apartment above the mayor’s office.”

  “Ah, too many memories.”

  Janie sipped her tea and wondered how this stranger already had her father pegged, and he hadn’t even met him.

  Blue warblers gathered around the birdfeeder. Robins flew from one tree to the other. Absorbed in watching them, Janie didn’t realize the condensation from her glass had wet her gloves. She placed the glass on the table and stood to retrieve another pair.

  “Where are you going?” he asked. “I haven’t run you off already, have I?”

  Instead of going inside, Janie returned to her seat and placed her hands on her legs, hoping the sun would dry them.

  “No, you haven’t run me off.”

  “I guess we should get started then.”

  “Get started?”

  “Yes.”

  “With what?” she asked, unsure what he meant.

  “With the therapy.”

  “Therapy? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “That’s obvious,” he muttered.

  She faced him, anger exuding from her tone. “Look, I admitted that my name is Jane Dossett, but that still doesn’t mean I know what I’m supposed to do to help you. Maybe you should call Rory or something.”

  He studied the glass in his hand with a melancholy look on his face. Janie almost felt bad about her outburst.

  “Maybe I should,” he said. He stood, excused himself, and left without another word.

  Chapter Five

  Trevor called all afternoon but only received a busy signal. Sleeping was out of the question. He tossed and turned the entire night. By morning he was ill-tempered and wanted answers.

  Picking up the phone, he called Rory again. A groggy voice came over the line.

  “Hello?”

  “Rory, I need to talk to you.”

  “Trevor? Is that you?”

  “Yes, it’s me. And I’ve found Jane Dossett. Or at least I think she is the one you spoke of in your letter.”

  “And? Can she help you?”

  “I don’t think so. She doesn’t seem to know anything I’m talking about.”

  “Isn’t she a counselor of some kind?”

  “Nope. At least I don’t think so. Honestly, I don’t know what she does. I’ve seen her decorate the school gym for a dance and sing at church, and that is about it.”

  “Then maybe you haven’t talked to her enough.”

  “Rory, listen, bud, I know you are just trying to help me get over my self-consciousness and work through my anger when someone comments on my leg, but I’m still not sure this is the correct route.”

  “Well, there has to be something different about her. I’m telling you this is the right thing for you to do.”

  “She does wear these weird white gloves.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean she wears white gloves all the time. Even with a t-shirt she has them on.”

  “Interesting. Look, I have to go. Joshua just cried and woke up Eve, and I promised Hannah she could sleep in today. But I’ll keep praying and see if anything else comes to me.”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  Trevor hung up the phone less satisfied than before he’d called. Maybe Rory was right, and he just didn’t know enough about Jane. Maybe if he investigated, he might discover that she was indeed who he was looking for.

  ****

  Janie felt horrible. She climbed out of bed and slunk into the bathroom. Matted hair stood high. Her throat ached, and her head pounded. Pulling her robe tighter around her, she shuffled downstairs. The list of volunteer activities for the day rested on the counter.

  She yawned and studied it. Settling on a swivel stool, Janie faced the counter and let her head fall onto her arms. The phone rang next to her head, and she jumped.

  “Hello?” she whispered.

  “Janie dear, is that you?”

  “Yes.”

  “You sound terrible. What’s wrong?”

  “Nice to talk to you too, Dad.”

  “Sorry, but I really need you to take care of that list today, and if you can’t, I’ve got to get someone else on it.”

  Janie coughed and sniffed.

  “If you’re sick, why don’t you just run over and see Dr. Robinson?”

  Janie internally groaned and prepared for her father’s speech.

  “Now, I know you don’t care for the doc, but he really is a miracle worker. What would it hurt to just go over and see if he can give you something?”

  “Dad, I’m fine. I’ll gargle some salt water.”

  “If you say so, but I’m telling you, if you can’t get those activities completed, you need to call and let me know.”

  Janie tightly squeezed the list in her hand and promised to call if she couldn’t get everything accomplished. The phone went dead in her hands, and she pushed up from the counter and staggered to the coffeepot. The rich aroma filtered through the kitchen and she inhaled.

  After a cup of Joe, she headed to her room. Dressed, she studied herself in the mirror. Eyes puffy and nose red, she sighed. “I can do this,” she muttered, stifling a coughing fit.

  Sniffing, she found a package of tissues and stuffed them in her purse. Behind the wheel of her truck, she pulled out the list. The first thing was visiting the library and cutting a ribbon to open their new wing.

  She looked at her flowered skirt and matching pink blouse. They would have to work, or it would be too bad.

  Cars littered the front parking lot of the library. Couples dressed in evening attire locked arms and entered. Janie instantly regretted her overconfidence in her clothes.

  At the peck against her window, she looked up to see Doctor Giles Robinson, affectionately known as Doc, staring and waving.

  “Hey.”

  Janie turned away, grabbed her purse, and stuck out her tongue. Morphing her face into a smile, she faced the doctor and opened her door. He moved back an inch, and she sucked in her breath to squeeze through the tiny opening.

  “Your dad called and asked me to meet you here. He said you might need me to check you out.”

  “I’m sorry you’ve wasted a trip. I’m fine.”

  Doc Robinson started at her feet and ended at her face. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You sure are.”

  Was she the only one who noticed the Doc’
s inappropriate behavior? Sure, he was a hunk. Muscular, his white, button-up, collared shirt pulled taut across his chest and shoulders. His black hair stood in short spikes on his head. He’d been pursued by every eligible woman in town, and he enjoyed it. It wasn’t unusual to see him out with more than one woman on the same day. Few could resist his charms. Those who did were relentlessly pursued.

  “I really need to get inside,” she said, trying to work her way around his imposing form.

  “Of course.” He tapped a finger to his chin. “How about I go with you? I mean, you shouldn’t be alone at an event like this. Everyone else has a date.”

  “Thanks, Doc, but I think I can handle it.”

  “What kind of man would I be if I didn’t help you out? I cleared my schedule for the first couple hours, so there is no reason I can’t go with you. It can be like our first date.”

  Janie opened her mouth to tell him to back-off when she felt a hand clasp hers.

  “Janie, sorry I’m late.”

  Shocked, she could only stare. Trevor wore a pair of khaki pants and a white shirt, open to the third button. The cowboy hat was gone, and she noticed the wavy of his blond hair.

  “Ah, why didn’t you tell me you already had a date?” asked Doc Robinson.

  “W-well—,” Janie stuttered and Trevor saved her.

  “That would be my fault. I wasn’t sure if I would make it in time. But I’m here.”

  Doc held out his hand. “I guess I should introduce myself. I’m Doc Giles Robinson but everyone calls me Doc or Giles.”

  “Nice to meet you, Dr. Robinson. I’m Trevor Jacobs. Are you the miracle doctor I keep hearing so much about?’

  Doc shrugged and the corner of his lips twitched. “So I’ve been told. Perhaps you ought to visit me. I might be able to help with that limp.”

  Janie felt Trevor tense, and she rushed to say, “Sorry to interrupt the conversation, but Trevor and I really need to get inside.”

  Doc wished them good luck, turned on his heel, and crossed the street. Trevor studied his retreating back. “Did he say his name was Giles?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm, like guile?”

  She blinked rapidly and changed the subject. “Thanks for the rescue.”

  “Not a big deal. I was headed to the library anyway.”

  She lifted a brow and studied him. “Dressed like that?”

  He laughed under his breath. “Don’t you like it?”

  Janie swallowed. Of course I like it. “It is not that. I–I just didn’t think it was library attire.”

  He laughed louder. “You’re right. I saw all the fancy people walking in and thought I might need to spiff up a little.”

  “You did good.”

  He bowed.

  An elderly woman with grayish-blue hair stopped nearby. “Miss Dossett, do you plan on coming in?”

  Janie felt heat rush to her cheeks as she raced to join the library director. “Yes, Mrs. Purvis, I’m coming.”

  “Good. The others are waiting at the entrance to the new wing. Just come in the front door and turn left.”

  Janie led the way and Trevor followed.

  Chapter Six

  Trevor crossed his arms over his chest and listened to Janie’s speech.

  “Welcome, ladies and gentleman, to Pearl Valley Library’s newest addition. This newest addition, the Wing of Ancient History, is a direct result of Mrs. Purvis’ hard work and dedication…”

  Janie continued to blow smoke about Mrs. Purvis, and the lady blushed and pretended to wave away the compliments. When she finished, Mrs. Purvis stepped up to the podium.

  “Thank you, Miss Dossett, for that beautiful speech. While I appreciate the praise, the truth is that Mr. Dossett, the town mayor, has played an instrumental role in the ability to open this wing. Without his valuable contributions of money and time, my dream would have died.

  “I hope everyone will take time to use this new facility, but for now, let’s retire to the foyer for refreshments.”

  Trevor escorted Janie into the room and found a corner to hide in. “Can I get you some cake and punch?”

  “I’m not a big cake eater, but I would love some punch.”

  He retrieved their refreshments and brought them back only to find Janie occupied. Several elderly gentlemen surrounded her.

  “Your father needs to get out more often. We tell him so in every board meeting, but still, when there is an event, he sends you.”

  Trevor hesitated, not wanting to interrupt, but when Janie appeared uncomfortable, he stepped in. “Here’s your punch.”

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “You have a nice town here,” said Trevor, starting a conversation with the men.

  “We like it,” said one of the men in the group. He pushed wire-rimmed glasses farther onto his nose. “Janie, thank you for assisting. We will see you later.”

  Janie nodded and sipped from her punch.

  “He was a little bit uptight.”

  Janie laughed and started coughing. “Nothing funny while I’m drinking.”

  He lifted his hand in defense.

  Janie said, “That was James Slade. He is the vice-mayor.”

  “Hmm. Why didn’t he do the speech and ribbon cutting?”

  “Good question. He likes to complain that my dad doesn’t participate in public events, but he doesn’t either.”

  “Do you mind me asking why that is?”

  “Why what is?”

  “I mean, why doesn’t your dad participate in these events? He is the mayor, right? It seems like he helped with the library, so why didn’t he come and cut the ribbon?”

  Janie shrugged but didn’t explain. She finished her punch, glanced at her watch, gasped, and rushed toward the door.

  Trevor caught up. “Where are you going now?”

  “I have to get to the cemetery. They’re burying a soldier today, and I’m supposed to hand the flag to his wife.”

  Trevor froze. Memories of military friends in body bags assailed him. He couldn’t breathe. Stars swam in front of his eyes, and he reached for the doorframe.

  She faced him. “Are you okay?”

  “I–I feel a little dizzy.”

  Janie held his arm and led him to a bench in front of the library. He sat down and she left, returning with a wet cloth that she placed on his forehead. “You should put your head between your knees.”

  He faced her. “Do you think that will help?”

  Her mouth twisted into a grin. “Are you going to question everything I say?”

  He snickered and obeyed as his words were repeated back to him. Vision clearing, he straightened and said, “You should go. They’re expecting you.”

  “They can wait a few minutes.”

  He took her hand in his and squeezed. “Go.”

  Her eyes shifted toward the road and back to him. He nodded. She sighed and rose from her seat, hoisted her purse higher on her shoulder, then jogged to her truck.

  ****

  Janie waited behind the wheel until she saw Trevor stand up. He waved, and she reluctantly drove toward the cemetery.

  Cars lined the one-lane road, and Janie pulled in behind the last one and climbed from her truck. Rain sprinkled as she hurried to the funeral tent erected over the casket and the family. The pastor had just finished speaking, and he arched his neck. Uniformed soldiers stepped forward, folded the flag, and handed it to her. Carefully, she crossed the loose ground in her high-heeled shoes. When she reached the wife of the dead soldier she handed over the flag.

  Leaning, she whispered in the wife’s ear, “Thank you for your sacrifice. May God be with you and your family.”

  The woman burst into tears and hugged the flag to her chest. The preacher requested that everyone lower their heads, and he offered a closing prayer.

  The rain picked up, and those in attendance rushed to their vehicles. Janie hung back, waiting for the weather to slack.

  “Do you know who you are hanging out with?
”

  Doc’s voice behind her made her jump.

  “Sorry I scared you, but talking to you without interruption is growing more difficult each day.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I thought it would be obvious that I’m talking about that Trevor Jacobs guy.”

  “What about him?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “I know why he limps.” She didn’t comment and he added, “Old Jim at the grocery store said he lifted his pants, and he has a fake leg.”

  Janie held out her gloved hands. “We all have something.”

  Doc blinked rapidly as she dove out from under the tent into the pouring rain.

  ****

  Trevor waited until he was sure Janie had left before he took his first wobbly step. Scenes of death and destruction and his friends littering the ground after massive explosions, dotted his vision until he almost groaned aloud.

  Encased in the truck’s cab, Trevor dialed Rory.

  Rory Chance was ex-British military. Years before while serving in combat, his unit had been attacked. Rory had retrieved every member of his team, but only three members had survived. One had run out at the onset of danger, one came back in a wheelchair, and Rory came back missing his leg.

  British residents had hailed him as a hero, and Rory explained he hadn’t felt like one. So many of his men had died that day — and the ones that lived were no longer whole. While hiding in a South African monastery, Rory’d had a chance at redemption.

  A woman speaking on the phone broke his reverie. “Hello?”

  “Hannah, it’s Trevor. Is Rory home?”

  “Oh, hello. How have you been?” Trevor hesitated and she continued, “I’m afraid he’s not home at the moment. He’s at the support meeting.”

  Rory had become an advocate for men similar to himself. He led a support group for returning soldiers who had lost limbs during war time. Wounded Soldiers had been where they’d met. Rory had been instrumental in Trevor’s own healing process, forcing him to move on and not give up on life.

  “If you need to, you can call his cell. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”