The Land Beneath Us (Sunrise at Normandy #3) - Sarah Sundin Page 0,5

brought this up? He’d never even told Gene this story. Clay shifted in his chair. “Back in ’41, my brother Adler’s fiancée died in a fall. It was an accident, but Adler blamed our oldest brother, Wyatt, and tried to kill him.”

“Oh no. How awful.”

Clay rubbed a page between his fingers. “I tackled Adler so Wyatt could escape. Reckon Wyatt feared for his life and wanted money to get away. So he took mine, every penny of it.”

“He never paid you back?”

“Haven’t seen hide nor hair of him since. Haven’t wanted to.”

Leah frowned at the medical guide. “And you couldn’t afford college.”

“Worse. I had to keep working at Paxton Trucking. Adler ran away that night too, and Daddy needed my help.”

“He ran away too? Because of his girlfriend?”

“Because of—” Clay almost said, “Because of mine,” but Leah was too young and innocent for that sordid tale. “Because he took out his anger on me in the worst possible way. He’ll never come home again, and that’s for the best.”

Leah’s gaze grew distant. “I can see why you haven’t been able to forgive them.”

Clay’s chin jerked back. “I’ve forgiven them.”

“You have?”

“Of course. I forgave them long ago.”

“I’m glad.” She raised a twitchy smile, then glanced over her shoulder and stood. “I should return to work.”

“Yeah.” Clay’s stomach lurched. Of course he’d forgiven them. He’d prayed that prayer more than once in the last two years.

Leah grasped the handle of her cart. “No matter what happened in my life, I could always find one good thing to enjoy—a beautiful word, a sunset, a song. I’m glad you’ve found your good thing.” With a serene smile, she patted the medical book and went her way.

Clay flipped the book shut. Why did he suddenly feel like the lost puppy?

3

TULLAHOMA

MONDAY, JUNE 21, 1943

The saleslady whisked the pile of dresses and suits from over the top of Leah’s dressing room door. “I’ll take these to the cash register, hon.”

“Decadent,” Leah said.

“Decadent?” Darlene Bishop’s laugh floated over the door. “You only bought four outfits today, including the dress you’re wearing home. With the suit you bought last week, that’s only five.”

Since Leah was accustomed to one church dress, one school dress, and one work dress, five beautiful outfits felt decadent indeed, especially since she could mix components.

She studied herself in the full-length mirror. Never had she owned such a pretty dress, a buttery yellow shirtwaist sprigged with tiny white flowers and leaves the same sage green as her suit, with a scalloped white collar and cuffs, like someone would wear to a summer lawn party in a novel.

It fit so well it made her squirm. She hardly recognized herself with a waistline and calves, much less with lipstick and her hair cut fashionably below her chin.

“Are you finished?” Darlene called.

“Yes.” Leah stepped into her beige pumps and grabbed the matching shoulder bag. Maybe someday she’d learn to walk in heels. Most girls her age already knew how, but Leah didn’t know what to do with an extra three inches.

Darlene poked around in a basket on top of a circular rack of blouses. “Aren’t these cute? Just what you need.”

A kaleidoscope of color radiated from the basket—dozens of jeweled pins shaped like flowers and animals and American flags. “They’re beautiful.”

“Which one do you like?”

The bouquet, and Leah cupped the beauty in her hand. Glass blossoms in every hue adorned golden stems tied with a curling golden ribbon. “Maybe next month. I need to watch my budget.”

Her roommate heaved a sigh as if Leah had denied Darlene the pin, and she flounced to the register. “You have a job, sugar. Live a little.”

“First I need to live. I have to pay room and board, bus fare, and cafeteria lunches.”

The saleslady rang up the purchase with cheery cha-chings from the cash register, and she folded each item in a snowy tissue paper cocoon.

It was all Leah’s. What a blessing.

Darlene batted mascaraed eyelashes. “Promise me you’ll buy the pin next month.”

“We’ll see.” She still needed an umbrella and a wallet and a pen.

The saleslady smiled at Leah. “That’ll be $17.47.”

Two and a half dollars under her budget, and Leah reached to open her shoulder bag.

“Shall I ring that up for you too?” The saleslady nodded to Leah’s hands.

She uncurled her fingers. The bouquet pin? She’d carried it to the counter? What if she’d dropped it into her bag?

Her heart stopped.

“Oh yes,” Darlene said. “The camel-colored suit is divine, but that pin would set it off.”

Leah forced her lungs to pump out

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