The Land Beneath Us (Sunrise at Normandy #3) - Sarah Sundin Page 0,30
think what you’d been through.”
“It’s all right.”
“No, it’s not. Why, I didn’t even congratulate you. How rude. And I’m very happy for you. You married a good man.”
The pain dulled, and Leah lowered her hands. “I did.”
14
CAMP FORREST
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 3, 1943
Clay stood at attention at the foot of his cot, his gaze fixed on the bare wooden barracks wall above Manfred Brady’s head. With all the turnover, Brady and Frank Lyons had been transferred into Clay’s platoon, to the other squad in his section. Even if Clay didn’t like those two, he had to admit they were good Rangers.
The men’s uniforms and gear lay in order on their cots for their final inspection at Camp Forrest. Tomorrow evening, the 2nd Ranger Battalion would board a train for the Scouts and Raiders School in Fort Pierce, Florida, to train in amphibious assault. Clay’s fingers curled in anticipation.
Lieutenant Taylor strode down the aisle. “Listen up, men. Major Rudder has issued twenty-four-hour passes.”
Someone whooped, but Clay didn’t even stir.
“Those can be revoked. Understood?”
“Yes, sir!” Clay shouted with the rest of his platoon.
“Report back at 0800 tomorrow. Everyone is dismissed except Paxton. Paxton, come here.”
What? He hadn’t whooped. Clay marched down the aisle, past G. M.’s sympathetic gaze, past his buddies packing and making plans involving liquor and women.
He stood at attention before the lieutenant, but his gut squirmed. Lately he’d fought hard. What had gone wrong?
“At ease.”
Clay clasped his hands at the small of his back.
Cool gray eyes assessed him. “This is your last chance to change your mind about becoming a medic. You have a wife to think about. Being a medic would be safer.”
Would it? Medics went into combat with the infantry. He’d even heard of enemy snipers aiming for the red crosses on medics’ helmets. “Sir, my wife supports my decision. Besides, Major Rudder has a wife, and children to boot. He’s not a medic.”
“We could really use you.”
They could assign him to that duty, and yet they hadn’t. “Sir, if I haven’t failed in my training, please don’t ask me again.”
Taylor sighed. “A waste of a fine mind.”
Clay tapped his wristwatch and lifted half a smile. “If it’s fine with you, sir, I’d like to say good-bye to my wife.”
Lieutenant Taylor chuckled. “Dismissed.”
Clay hustled back to his cot to pack. Finally, he’d silenced that threat to his dream.
TULLAHOMA
SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 4, 1943
Rain pelted the umbrella Clay held over Leah’s head. Dawn lightened the sidewalk as he hurried her from the King Hotel to her boardinghouse. “We’re set. Our paperwork is complete, and you have my parents’ address and my APO address. The Army Post Office can find me anywhere.”
“All set.” Leah’s voice sounded small, or was it merely lost in the rain?
Over the past month of marriage, she’d become like a sister. “I know you don’t want to show too soon, but eat a nutritious diet. And I know you want to help with the finances, but listen when your doctor tells you to quit your job, you hear?”
She gave him a teasing smile. “Yes, Dr. Paxton.”
He chuckled. With her, he was free to talk about medical matters. With her, he was free to talk about anything. He’d miss that.
Since his letters would be censored by Lieutenant Taylor and hers might not be private, they wouldn’t discuss her pregnancy until she made her announcement when she was four months along—three months along if Clay had been the actual father.
Clay turned up the walkway to her boardinghouse. A golden glow came from a few windows in the two-story white home. Under the eaves, he shook out the umbrella and set it to dry on the porch.
Leah smiled at him in her khaki raincoat and the hat she’d worn at the wedding. “Well, you’re off to have adventures in exciting new places.”
“I am.” He glanced pointedly at her flat abdomen. “You’ll have some adventures too.”
She lowered her chin. “My adventures will be much quieter than yours.”
What should he say? A simple good-bye didn’t seem adequate, but a drawn-out departure didn’t seem fitting.
Leah turned up her face to him with the barest smile.
Something shifted inside him. He’d never see her again.
He’d never see that smile again or those eyes. In the book of Genesis, Leah was described as “tender eyed.” The phrase conveyed weakness, but the Leah standing before him wasn’t weak. Vulnerable, but not weak. And tender. Very tender.
He was staring. Clay cleared his throat. “Reckon I ought to get back to camp before Sergeant Lombardi turns me into pumpkin pie.”