The Land Beneath Us (Sunrise at Normandy #3) - Sarah Sundin Page 0,70

And if I see any enemy planes chasing you fellows, I’ll pop a few rounds their way.

I miss you, Adler. You made my life fun and adventurous. Without your example, I don’t know if I’d have been Ranger material. You showed me how to balance excellence in school, sports, and friendship. Your humor and high spirits always lifted me. I’ve probably never told you, but I love you very much.

Please know my forgiveness is genuine and deep.

Your brother forever,

Clay

Clay inserted the letter in the envelope and wrote “Adler Paxton” on it.

A strange thing happened as he wrote the letters. The more he wrote, the more he wanted to be kind, to reassure his brothers, to grant them peace after he was gone, with no regrets. The more he wrote the words of forgiveness, the more he felt them, the more he meant them, and the more he knew them to be right and true.

One last letter. The most difficult of all.

My darling wife,

If you’re reading this letter, it means you’ve already received a telegram. I pray this letter won’t cause any additional distress. You’re a strong woman, and I know you’ll bear the loss of our friendship with grace.

Take comfort in knowing I’m with Jesus, as I take comfort in knowing you and Helen are set for life. The GI life insurance will easily last six years, and the check from Wyatt will cover another few years. Perhaps you could use it to pay for library school when Helen starts school.

To make the money stretch further, I urge you to accept my parents’ invitation to move to Kerrville. This would place you in the midst of family. Our daughter would have more aunts, uncles, and cousins than she could shake her pudgy fist at.

I also think you’re just what the Paxtons need. Daddy and Mama have forgiven Wyatt and Adler, but things could be tense. Your sweet spirit would be a tonic for my ailing family.

As for your own family, once again I urge you to visit Chicago. I pray the Lord will lead you to your sisters.

Thank you for your example. Your devotion to your family showed me the importance of my own. Your wise words and mercy toward all who have harmed you helped me to forgive my brothers and to let them know of that forgiveness.

You may be wondering the purpose of this letter. Everything I’ve written summarizes what I’ve told you before. Maybe I wrote it so you’d have it in one place. More likely, I did it to procrastinate.

Leah, for the past week, I’ve been debating whether or not to tell you something. I don’t debate the truth of what I have to say—from the moment I realized it, I’ve had no doubts. I debated because I didn’t know if it would bring you comfort or discomfort. I’ve decided it’ll do more good than harm.

When I married you, I’d hoped we wouldn’t become too attached to each other, since we both knew how this would end. I felt affection for you, like a brother giving to a little sister. Somewhere along the line, things changed. The little sister became a lovely woman. The giving brother became the recipient of your wisdom, grace, and compassion.

My love for you has shifted and grown and deepened. Leah, I’ve fallen in love with you.

You can see why I waited to confess this until after I was gone. If you had returned my feelings, it would have only led to more anguish when I died. If you hadn’t, it could have caused an awkward rift between us. Selfishly, I didn’t want to lose you so close to the end.

I’m confessing this as my last gift to you. My sweet Leah, I want you to know how lovable you are. Since you were four, you’ve had no one to love you, no one to tell you how wonderful you are. Although our daughter adores you, she won’t be able to voice it for years.

So I’ll voice it. I love how you can’t bear for a book to be scrapped. I love how you knew Helen was a girl before she was born. I love how you write poetry, how you cling to your sisters, how you search for the good even in the dark. And I love how you gently but forcibly urged me to do the right thing and forgive my brothers.

You are beautiful and modest and kind and faithful and merciful. And the memory of our too-short kiss at