Your letters are sunlight to me. The picture I hold of you in my heart is evenmore important than the photo you sent. I'll bet you're looking forward toending summer cla.s.ses so you can graduate this September. I wish I could bethere to see it all.

I'll look forward to hearing from the college on this sociology correspondencecourse. I owe you so much, Alex, I don't know how I'll ever repay you, gal.

Your friend,Jim McKenzie August 20,1965 Dear Jim, I guess our mail is having trouble reaching us. I just got your July letter.

That bothers me. I'm going to make some inquiries to see if our lines ofcommunication can't be straightened out.

I've already contacted the college for you, and driven over to see your folksagain. I shared the letters from you with them, and they were besidethemselves. Your mother withdrew the money from your savings, and thecorrespondence course is paid for. You should be receiving the first lessonshortly. If you don't, let me know.

I had a wonderful time with your folks! I spent the weekend with them, andguess what? They let me have your bedroom! I didn't realize you slept in theattic! Your mother was so emotional when I came. She told me that I was more like a daughter than an "outsider"-you know, one of those city folk from someother state! She's kept your room exactly as you left it. I loved seeing thephoto of you in your marine uniform. It's proudly displayed on the wall oftheir living room.

Your mother showed me all the wonderful animals that you've carved since youwere a kid. I never knew you were such an artist! She has them all up on asmall walnut shelf in your bedroom, and dusts them weekly. She told me thestories behind each of the carved animals, and they made me cry. But they weretears of happiness, not sadness, Jim. To be able to touch the smooth wood, torun my fingers along that wonderfully sleek surface told me much about you,your discipline, your attention to detail, and the care you take with allthings in your life. My favorite is the turtle. Ma, as she insists I call her,told me that you saved a box turtle from being killed by rescuing it off thehighway after it had been struck. She said the turtle, who you calledPriscilla, had her sh.e.l.l cracked. Ma said you taped up Prissy's sh.e.l.l, kepther in a nice box with dry gra.s.s and hand fed her until she got well. I cried.

Your father is so shy... he just sort of hangs back watching Ma and me. But Ican tell he's glad I came. Last night after dinner, he took me into theirbedroom and showed me his old trunk. We must have sat in there looking overthe contents for three hours, Jim. He told me about his six years as a marineand showed me his uniforms. How proud he is of them, and well he should be.Probably the most touching was when he let me hold the silver star he'd earnedand given to you. When he told me how he'd earned it, I cried for him, foryou, myself and all the people who have to fight wars. Now I know where yougot your bravery. He's also proud of the silver star you earned last year. Soam I.

Your ma is swearing to make me a good Missouri hill cook! She's been drillingme on slang, and giving me recipes like blue John and corn pone, showing methe difference between good pork bacon and fat back. I'm learning how to makethe most wonderful tasting corn bread in the world! I brought the recipe backto my mother. I'm sure she'll love it, too.

I was sad to leave your folks, but had to get home. I'll graduate from collegein just two more weeks and become an RN. My folks will come to the ceremony.My father grumps that I should think about getting a commission and joiningthe navy or air force, but I told him no. I only wish you could be here to seeme graduate.

I've sent my resume to a VA hospital in Portland; Oregon, so keep your fingerscrossed for me! I should hear shortly, Mrs. Riddell said, speaking of her, wefinished off my battle-fatigue questionnaire. I hope to pursue the project atmy new job. She feels it's a worthwhile project, and so do I. And she pointedout to me that my understanding of what war can do is a plus to the patientsI'll care for. She's right. What's the old adage: It Takes One to Know One?

My shoulder is doing really well. I've got about ninety-five percent mobilityback now, and all that's left is a pink scar. It gets cranky during dampweather, particularly just before a rainstorm. Maybe I'll be a barometer. Haha.

Things are settling down with my father. He's speaking to me again, albeitstiffly. At least we're talking. Mother says he's got his mind on too manyother things at the Hill to stay angry at me much longer. Someday, I hope Ican sit down and talk quietly and without anger to him about the choices I'vemade. I wish Father could be more like you-easy to talk to. You never loseyour temper, and I'm in awe of that ability.

Oh, I'm sending over a tin of homemade Missouri corn bread from your mother'srecipe. It's a little slice of home, and I know you'll appreciate it. You arealways in my dreams, Jim, and my heart. Time hasn't dulled my feelings foryou; it's only made them stronger. I hope it's the same for you.

With love,Alex September 3,1965 Dear Alex, I sure got your last letter in a hurry. Congratulations on your graduation! Ihope by the time my letter reaches you, you've got that job you want inPortland. Reading your letter was like being home. I wish I'd been there tohold you when you cried over Prissy's story, or when my pa opened up his trunkand shared it with you. I hope you know he considers you real special. Ididn't get to see anything in that trunk until I told him I wanted to join upwith the marines. You're special, Alexandra Vance. Very special in my eyes andheart.

The corn bread arrived. Thank you. I've received the first lesson of mycorrespondence course. The more I think about it, I believe sociology's a goodplace for me to start. I've always been interested in what makes people tick.

My leg is fine now, and I'm out doing my duty a full ten or twelve hours a dayalong with everyone else. By the time I get back to my cell, I'm pretty tired.We don't get much word about what's going on out in the real world, or evenhere in Nam. I appreciate the magazines and newspapers you're sending. A lotof times I fall asleep halfway through an article, but that's okay.

I know that your being with Ma is helping her a lot through this period. I'msure you're sunlight to them, like you are to me. My pa isn't one to say much,he just watches and studies people from a distance. He's a pretty shy man, andI guess I'm a lot like him in that way. In my heart, I know your being therefor both of them has eased their pain over what I've gotten myself into. I oweyou so much, gal. Please keep writing.

Your friend,Jim McKenzie Alex reread Jim's letter for the sixth time, trying to ferret out the truemeaning of his words-reading between the lines, as Matt Breckenridge hadwarned she'd have to do. The mild October breeze flowed through her newlyrented home in Portland, Oregon. The VA hospital had eagerly hired her, andwithin two weeks Alex had moved from one coast to the other. Never had she been happier-or more lonely. This was the first time in her life she was without the proximity of her family. Most of all, she missed quiet talks withher understanding mother. Going to work at the VA hospital was helping herpa.s.s the time until Jim came home. Alex frowned. What had happened to theother letters she'd sent? Since August, she had sent five letters and none ofthem had garnered responses. Was Jim not getting them? Was he not answeringthem? Or were they holding up his mail back to her?

Frustrated, Alex poured herself a gla.s.s of iced tea and leaned against thekitchen counter. The linoleum felt cool beneath her bare feet. She worried for Jim, for the hard labor he was obviously doing. More importantly, he'd askedher to keep writing to him, as if he'd finally accepted that she wasn't goingto abandon him-no matter what. Still, he hadn't ever signed a letter "love,"as she did.

Chewing her lower lip, Alex tried to grapple with her feelings. She knew sheloved Jim. But he'd never said he loved her. Was it really a one-way street?Alex moved slowly through the kitchen and back into the small living room. Shesat down on the couch and curled her legs beneath her.

Jim would be released from Long Binh in late November, according to a recentletter from Lieutenant Breckenridge. He hadn't known the exact date, but saidJim would more than likely write and let her know. Would Jim come and see her?Would he say goodbye to her in one of his letters before he left Vietnam?Everything was so tenuous, and disappointment thrummed through Alex. Shecouldn't pose such questions to Jim via letters, because of the censors. Alexwould just have to wait, the hardest thing in the world for her to do,November couldn't come too soon.

Chapter Ten.

"Hey!" Gary called from his bed, "Tomorrow's Thanksgiving, Miss Vance. Are yougonna be here?"

Alex stood at the locked doors to the psychiatric ward of the VA hospitalwhere she worked. She smiled at Gary, a twenty-year-old marine who had "gonecrazy" over in Vietnam, had summarily been given a medical discharge and hadfound his way here for help. He sat in his light blue pajamas, painfully thin,his dark eyes burning with the horror he still carried within him.

"You bet, Gary."

He clapped his hands like a delighted child. "Groovy!" Then he turned andlooked down the long rectangular room filled with patients and beds. "Hey,guys! Miss Vance is too gonna be here!"

Sporadic clapping, hooting, hollering and whistles started, and Alex liftedher hand in farewell to her patients, these men that she had come to love witha fierce loyalty. John Sheldrick, one of the hospital orderlies, let her out,promptly locking the door behind her again.

"You're getting out of here late, Alex," he noted, looking at his watch.

"I know."

"Is it because of that newbie? Grant?"

She picked up her dark brown wool coat and shrugged it over her white uniform."Yes. How did you know?"

John smiled and shrugged. "I know your interest in that combat-symptom projectof yours. Did he answer all the questions you asked him?"

"All of them," Alex said, pleased. John was a big man in his mid-forties, anex-army sergeant who had put in twenty years but couldn't leave the realm ofmilitary life. "Even you said the questionnaire had merit. Just for yourinformation, Chuck Grant fits the definition for the fatigue syndrome.Satisfied?"

John sank into the squeaky chair, the lights low because it was nearly 10:00 p.m. "Yup," he said thoughtfully. "You bring an umbrella? It's raining outthere."

"Again?" Alex muttered. She slung her black leather purse over her arm andhunted in a large can behind the desk for her red umbrella. "I never realizedPortland had so much rain."

"It's late fall. What do you expect? Can't snow here, so it's gotta dosomething depressing."

She smiled. "I suppose you're right."

"Hey, what about McKenzie? Ain't he supposed to be coming home from Nam soon?"

Alex straightened and unsnapped the loop around the umbrella. Her heart raced.Since she'd come to the VA hospital on the outskirts of Portland, John hadbecome her friend and confidant. He knew about Jim and his prison term.

"I-I don't know, John."

"He was getting out this month?"

"Yes." Alex frowned. "The last I heard from Jim was September. I've continuedsending letters, but he hasn't answered them." Alex's throat ached with thetension of unshed tears. She had tried to find out Jim's release date, but hadrepeatedly been stymied by military bureaucracy. She had no idea if Jim wascoming home, or if he would visit her once he was released.

Scratching his thinning black hair, John muttered, "If I know those briggoons, they probably confiscated your letters before Jim got them." Then hegrinned, his green eyes lighting up. "Hey, now don't you lose that prettysmile of yours. These guys wait each afternoon until you come on shift just tosee your smile. You're their sunshine, you know. And their favorite nurse."

Sunshine. Jim's word for her. Alex rallied and nodded. "I hope he knows I lovehim, John. With or without the letters reaching him."

"If he don't by now, he don't deserve you."

Alex went over to give John a hug. "You're good for my morale, John."

"Hey," he chided her, "now don't you give up on this McKenzie." He thumped hischest. "I got a feeling in here about him. From what you've told me, he's agood man in a bad situation. You deserve each other. Just don't give up hope."

"I wrote his parents a letter last week," Alex said. "I told them to tell JimI wanted to see him, that I loved him." Did he love her? Alex gnawed on herlower lip, close to tears.

"So you gonna spend your hard-earned day off celebrating Thanksgiving with the guys in here? It's all they've talked about for a week. Are you really gonnaeat dinner with them?"

"Yes. I promised I'd bake them some homemade corn bread and pumpkin pies."Alex glanced at her watch. "Gosh, I've got to get going! I've got four pies tomake tonight before I go to bed."

"I hope those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds know how lucky they are to have you as their nurse.Maybe I'll get a piece of one of those pies, too? I have to work tomorrow,Alex."

"Of course you will, John! Bye," she called, quickly walking down the emptyhall. The walls were painted light green, shadowy now that most of the lightswere turned out.

In the huge, silent asphalt parking lot, rain fell at a light, steady rate.The streetlights helped her locate her blue station wagon, her first purchasesince having a job of her own. The depressing weather settled in on Alex a.s.she unlocked the car door and slid onto the seat. She tried not to think about Jim.

As Alex drove to her rented house not far from the hospital, her heart beganto ache in earnest. Was Jim home yet? Her cold fingers gripped the steeringwheel even more firmly as she drove slowly through the suburban streets ofPortland. Lights reflected off the wet pavement, and darkness hovered.

Pulling into the concrete driveway of her small, one-story home, Alex stoppedand climbed out of the car. She hurried up the sidewalk and steps. Inside, hercat, Thomasina, greeted her.

"Hi, Tommy," Alex said as she shut the door. The cat meowed a welcome fromwhere she sat. Alex couldn't stand living completely alone and had beendelighted when Thomasina had found her way to the front porch one stormy nightin October. The black-and-gray striped cat with huge yellow eyes had been apermanent fixture since that night.

Hurrying to her bedroom, Alex got out of her white nursing uniform and pulledon a long-sleeved white blouse, a pair of jeans and a red cardigan. It wascool in the house, and Alex turned up the thermostat before she went to thekitchen. Pies had to be made. Four of them! Alex knew that her fifteen patients were starving for a touch of home life. They had no family who wouldcome to visit over the special holiday.

Thomasina leaped up onto one of the four kitchen chairs surrounding a roundtable covered with a pink linen tablecloth. Alex had planned for the pies andhad made the crusts for them last week. All she had to do now was make the pumpkin filling. She turned on the radio that sat atop the refrigerator andhummed along with the soft FM music as she worked at the kitchen counter.

By eleven, Alex sat relaxing at the table, her pies in the oven, baking.Thomasina slept on the chair next to her, and Alex had rewarded herself with awell-deserved cup of tea. With any luck, she'd be in bed by midnight.

The doorbell rang.

Frowning, Alex sat up. So did Thomasina.

"I wonder who that is," she said to the cat.

Thomasina stared at her, unblinking.

Walking through the darkened living room, Alex switched on a lamp near theflowery print couch. There was no window in the door, so she couldn't tell whoit might be. Keeping the guard chain on, Alex cautiously opened the door.

"Alex?"

A gasp escaped her. "Jim!"

He stood uncertainly, dressed in civilian clothes and a dark blue raincoat."Hi. I know it's late, but-"

"Just a minute..." Shakily, Alex took the chain off the door. Her heartpounding triple time, she pulled the door open. Her eyes went wide as shelooked up into Jim's shadowed features, glistening with rain. Anguish searedAlex and her breath caught in her throat. Jim looked gaunt, and she could seethe un-sureness in his eyes. A slight smile barely tipped the corners of hismouth.

"Come in," she whispered unsteadily, catching his hand and pulling him intothe carpeted foyer. Shutting the door, Alex stood back, shocked. The light onJim's face showed unbearable tension in his features. His dark hair was wet and small rivulets of water ran down his neck, soaking into his plaid shirt.What hurt the most was a new scar that ran from his temple to his jaw. Alexknew immediately that he'd been badly beaten in Long Binh. Tears came to hereyes, but she fought them back.

"I-I didn't know if you'd come," she whispered lamely. "I hadn't heard fromyou for so long..."

"I'm sorry, Alex. I tried to call." Jim stood uncertainly in the unfamiliarbut cozy surroundings of Alex's home. He saw her soft, dove gray eyes growlarge with pain. As if realizing Alex was staring at his recently healedinjury, he reached up and self-consciously touched the scar on the side of hisface.

"I'm so happy to see you," she quavered.

"I got Stateside this morning-"

"Please, take off that coat. You're wet." He was shivering, and when Alextouched the coat, she realized the material was soaked all the way through."How long have you been out in this rain?"

Jim unb.u.t.toned the coat. "An hour... maybe a little longer. I caught the busfrom San Francisco to Portland, then walked over here from the station."

"My G.o.d, that's six miles away. Why didn't you call from the bus terminal?"

"I did, but you weren't home." Alex rolled her eyes. "I took two shifts todayto give my friend Gail a chance to go home for the holidays." It was on thetip of her tongue to ask why he hadn't gotten a cab, but Alex remembered Jimhad little money. All of his meager private's pay was going into his savingsaccount in Missouri. She took the coat and quickly carried it to the laundry room.

Returning, Alex saw that Jim was hesitantly looking around. But the moment heheard her approach, his gaze settled on her. She slowed as she approached,wanting so badly to throw her arms around him and hold him... simply hold him.His eyes were shadowy with exhaustion, and there were rings under them. But the moment he gave her that easy, boyish smile, all of Alex's fears melted away.

"Oh, Jim!" She opened her arms and pressed herself to him.

Jim groaned at the unexpected gift of Alex in his arms. All he could do washold her, feel her breathing against him, inhale her feminine scent and buryhis face in her luxurious sable hair, now shoulder length.

"I thought-I thought maybe you didn't want to see me again," he rasped, hiseyes tightly shut, savoring Alex against him.

"No...no, I do." Alex sobbed. "You never received my letters?"

Jim slowly eased his embrace and looked down at her suffering features.Gently, he caressed Alex's flaming cheek. The tears in her eyes reminded himof beautiful diamonds. "The last one I got was dated September."

Alex shut her eyes tightly. "Those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds! I hate them! I hate what they'vedone to you-to us!" She opened her eyes and drowned in his sad azure gaze."Jim, I sent you a letter every week or so."

Anger surged through Jim, and he steadied his grip around Alex. "I never gotthem."

Alex dashed away her tears. "You look so tired." She tried not to stare at thefresh, terrible-looking scar.

It showed the marks of at least twenty st.i.tches. Inwardly, Alex shuddered,afraid to know how Jim had gotten it and how much he must have suffered afterreceiving it.

He tested the air with his nose. "Right now, gal, I could stand a little foodin this shrunken belly of mine, and a good cup of hot coffee. I haven't eatensince this mornin'. Whatever you're baking sure smells good."

Alex rallied beneath his husky tone. "You came to the right place, then. Comeon, Jim McKenzie. I intend to stuff you with home-cooked food until youburst."

Jim's mouth stretched tiredly, and he held Alex's small hand as he followedher into the kitchen. He sat down at the table, a contentment flowing throughhim that he'd never dreamed of feeling. Alex was wearing a red-and-whitechecked ap.r.o.n, her lovely hair mussed and framing her flushed features. A catcame over and jumped onto his lap, purring madly. He gently stroked theaffectionate feline.

"I wasn't even sure you'd be home. Since I hadn't gotten you on the phone, Ithought you might have gone home to see your folks over Thanksgiving."

Alex shook her head and placed a salad in front of him. "No, I wanted to behere with my patients." She took Thomasina and placed her on the floor. "Theydon't have anyone nearby," she explained as she brought salad dressing fromthe refrigerator.

"Just like you," Jim said. He was starving, and said nothing more as he duginto the salad of Bibb lettuce, carrots, tomatoes and bits of purple cabbage.The pleasant clink of kitchen pots and pans were like music to him. In notime, Alex had cooked him pork chops, steamed some frozen corn and taken somepreviously baked potatoes and fried them up as well. It was a feast to Jim.

Within half an hour, he was stuffed like the proverbial turkey.

Alex took the four pumpkin pies from the oven and set them on the counter tocool. She saw the color coming back to Jim's pale face, his eyes look morealert. Taking a seat across from him as he finished some chocolate cake, shesat quietly, just watching him.

"You're really here," she said finally, awe in her voice.