The Land Beneath Us (Sunrise at Normandy #3) - Sarah Sundin Page 0,68

Clay, and I always will.”

“I—I understand, but this—”

“Helen is my grandchild, and I love her the same as I love my Timmy. Both babies—” She bit back a sob and shook her head. “I don’t care how they came into the world. I love them, and they’re mine.”

Leah’s gut churned. How she wanted to accept the acceptance, but it didn’t seem right. “But Mrs. Pax—”

“Mama, and don’t argue with me.” Her voice wavered. “Don’t you argue. You married my Clay, and you love him. I can see it in your eyes.”

“I—I do.” But why did love have to hurt, squeezing and twisting everything inside her?

“I know he loves you too.”

Leah lowered her face. She refused to shatter that illusion as well.

“So you’re my daughter and always will be, and Helen will always be my granddaughter. Understood, mija?”

Leah raised her gaze to this woman she had no right to claim as family. But something stretched between them, a mutual love for Clay and for Helen.

That was the right. That was the claim. That was family.

Leah breathed it in deeply. “Yes, Mama.”

32

SWANAGE, DORSET, ENGLAND

MONDAY, MAY 15, 1944

The only sound in Clay’s ears was the scratching of pens on paper. Occasionally, Rangers murmured to each other, but overall a hushed reverence filled the quarters in the old school.

After Exercise Fabius, Clay’s company had returned to Swanage on the southern coast, along with the rest of the 2nd Ranger Battalion. More cliff climbing, with extra training on using the rocket-propelled grapnels, now mounted on the LCA landing craft. They were also experimenting with extension ladders from the London Fire Department mounted on DUKW amphibious vehicles.

Dozens of Rangers lounged on cots writing letters. They were strong, smart, well trained, unified, and confident bordering on arrogant. They were ready.

Down the length of the room, Frank Lyons met Clay’s gaze without smiling, and a chill ran through Clay. Something about that man. Nothing definitive to report to Rudder, just a needling suspicion.

Clay returned his attention to his stationery boxes. Enough dillydallying. All around England, vehicles transported troops to marshaling areas close to the southern ports. Rudder had told the men to write any letters they wanted mailed before the invasion. After the men were briefed on their mission, the mail would be impounded so no classified details could be leaked.

Clay’s time was running out. He’d continue to write, but today’s letters were the last he could guarantee to be mailed before he died. They’d be the most difficult five letters of his life.

The first would be easiest, and the only one short enough for a V-mail. He filled the one-page form responding to Leah’s latest letter, which reported on Helen’s cuteness and how Leah enjoyed the time with his mother. Clay kept the letter light, praised the baby, thanked Leah for her advice, and told her he was writing his brothers.

Now for the long and difficult letters. They would all go in one thick envelope to Kerrville.

Dear Daddy and Mama,

Things are getting busy over here, and I wanted to tie up all loose ends. I’ve enclosed letters to Wyatt and Adler—please forward the letters immediately, as I don’t have their addresses. There’s also a letter for Leah—please mail it to her only in case of my death.

You’ll be happy to know the letters to my brothers are ones of forgiveness. This hasn’t been easy, but it’s necessary. As my wise wife says, my forgiveness is the key. As the youngest and as the half brother, I feel odd being in charge, but so it is. The half is the key to the whole.

After I’m gone, I want the Paxton family to be reunited and restored, with my Leah and Helen included, of course.

Please don’t think I’m fatalistic. I’m not. I just know my work on earth is done. My brothers are forgiven, the road to family peace is open, and I’ve provided for my wife and daughter. Thank you for taking my girls under your wings. I hope you can persuade Leah to move to Kerrville.

Please forgive me for taking so long to forgive my brothers. I wore my grudges as my badge of honor as a wronged man. But that was as grave a sin as any they committed. I made myself their judge, and that’s not my role.

Daddy and Mama, thank you for a lifetime of loving me. You raised me well and taught me the importance of faith, compassion, integrity, and hard work. You provided a home full of wisdom, humor, common sense, and