The Land Beneath Us (Sunrise at Normandy #3) - Sarah Sundin Page 0,107
about more training, but you didn’t elaborate.”
“So many questions.” His voice had a delightful teasing lilt. “I’ll spend some time here, some in Kerrville. Then on September 1, I report to Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio to train as a medic.”
“A medic! But I thought you didn’t want to be a medic. I know you wanted to be a physician, but—”
“Want. Not past tense anymore. I want to be a physician, and Lord willing, now it can happen.” The look on his face was new to her—determined and content.
Leah stopped beside her house and studied him. “You can? Oh, Clay, that’s wonderful. I want to hear all about it.”
“Keep walking. Starving man.” He made a darling pathetic face.
Concealing her love from him would not be easy. She rounded the corner of her house, scooped Helen out of the carriage, and unlocked the front door.
He stepped inside and took in a big breath. “Smells good, almost like . . .”
“Like your mama’s chili? It is.”
He turned to her, his eyes wide and unbelieving.
Leah passed him and set Helen on her belly in her playpen. Helen pushed up on her arms and stretched for her fluffy bunny.
“I’d planned to make enchiladas for your homecoming, but I didn’t have time.” Leah tied an apron over her suit. “Thank goodness, I’d already put the beans to soaking for chili. The recipe makes plenty.”
Clay followed her into the kitchen, eyes almost closed. “You have no idea how good that smells after almost two years of Army cooking.”
“Please have a seat.” Leah took out two hot pads and laid them on the table. “It’ll only be a minute while I set the table.”
“Let me help then.”
“All right. Thank you.” She pulled a pan of cornbread from the oven, where it had been keeping warm. “The plates and bowls are in the cupboard.”
While she brought out the chili and cornbread, Clay laid out the dinnerware. As they passed each other and worked together, it reminded her of the sweet domestic camaraderie at the Bellamy home. But this was her home. And her husband.
Leah’s middle clenched. Not for long.
Clay set out silverware and nodded to the radio on the kitchen table. “I recognize that.”
Because it was his, not hers. “You ought to take it with you.”
“To the barracks? No place for it there.” Then he glanced to the bookshelf and grinned. “Is that my violin?”
“Your parents brought a lot of your things.”
He crossed the room and opened the case. “I haven’t played in ages.”
“I loved how you used to play for me in the hospital.”
His gaze turned to her, so warm and personal, she couldn’t breathe. “I could play for you tonight, if you’d like.”
Oh, she’d like that very much. “Helen would love that. You ought to see. She bounces to the music on the radio. She’s very fond of the Andrews Sisters.”
“Is that so, baby girl?” Clay squatted beside the playpen with his violin in hand. “Wait till you hear the Paxton brothers.”
“Oh?” Leah surveyed the table. If only she had butter for the cornbread, but she’d used her red ration points for lard to make refried beans for the enchilada dinner. “Do the Paxton brothers sing together?”
“We called ourselves the Gringo Mariachis.” Clay stood and put his violin under his chin. “We sang, we played, we broke hearts all across Texas.”
Leah untied her apron and slipped it over her head. If Wyatt and Adler were half as appealing as Clay, they’d broken many a heart.
Clay drew the bow across the strings in a discordant tone, and he made a funny face. “Now I’m breaking eardrums all across Tennessee.”
Leah laughed. Had she ever seen him so . . . sunny? “Shall we eat?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll tune her up after dinner.” He put away the violin and sat at the table.
Clay said a heartfelt blessing over the food, then ate with gusto, praising her cooking and praising his mama for giving Leah the recipes and the spices.
Leah brimmed over with questions. What had happened in Normandy? What about his recurring dream? One question felt safest. “Tell me about becoming a medic—and a physician.”
Clay dunked a slice of cornbread in his chili. “Wyatt paid me back and far more than he stole. That money and the benefits from the GI Bill will pay for college and medical school. I may have to work summers for Daddy, but I can afford it.”
“I’m so happy for you. Your original dream is back.”