The Soldier's Bride (18 page)

“How did Sterling take it?” Marie said.

Evelyn shook her head. “He was going to ask me to marry him. Mama, he had a ring.” She swallowed, struggling to push back the hysteria in her voice.

“Shh, it’ll work out all right,” Marie soothed.

Evelyn peered at her mother underneath lashes heavy with tears. “You knew?”

Marie pursed her lips. “He asked your father for permission last week. I think that’s what your dad wanted to talk to Jim about—maybe help him understand what you’re facing.”

The room felt as if it were pressing against her lungs, sucking the breath right out of her. The lights blinked and her head spun. Evelyn moaned and sank to the floor as her father came down the stairs. A hard surface cracked against her skull and somewhere recognition whispered that she hadn’t caught herself, but the hardwood floor had.

Closing her eyes against the overhead light, Evelyn wished for the darkness to overtake her mind, to erase the confusion of the present, to spiral her back to only a few hours before when the day looked bright and full of hope. Voices in the background seemed like a dream and she fell deeper into the blackness, happy to dream.

Evelyn was spiraling through the darkness, and then Sterling was there holding her, whispering to her, and stroking her hair. Something cool and damp covered her forehead and she registered the sensation of being lifted. Sterling. He was so strong, the way he held her close to his chest, his heartbeat drumming against her cheek.

“Please, I’m so sorry. I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to be with you. I love you so much.”

His voice carried through the darkness and she concentrated on his words, the agony in his voice. There was something different about his voice; it sounded deeper, almost rumbling in his chest as he spoke. She felt something splash against her cheek. Sterling was crying. She had hurt him, but why? Then with a start she remembered the ring, Sterling’s car, his kiss.

“Evelyn, honey, wake up.”

Her eyelids fluttered and at first glance, she wondered what Sterling had done to his midnight curls. But no, it wasn’t Sterling. It was another man with short dark hair and blue eyes so piercing—eyes from another dream. Another drop of moisture fell on her brow and she felt the tender touch of a hand wiping away the wetness.

Opening her eyes had never been so difficult, her eyelids felt weighted down with desperation—or maybe that was her heart. Something was wrong. Sterling was hurt because of her, and where was Danny?

“Danny,” she said, but it came out like a dry wisp of wind.

“He’s in the kitchen, but let’s get some color into your face before I go get him.”

That voice was her mother’s. Evelyn felt the arms around her tense and hold her closer. She opened her eyes and focused on the man holding her. “Jim.”

“Evelyn, are you okay?” He caressed her face and moved the washcloth from her forehead. “You scared me.” Jim pulled her close to his heart. “I can’t lose you.”

And Evelyn knew she was no longer dreaming, the nightmare of this reality pressed down on her senses. She turned her face toward Jim’s chest and remembered the simple times when her heart beat for one man and one man alone.

Jim Patterson was the greatest man she’d ever known, until she’d opened her heart to Sterling Dennison. Now Jim was back and Sterling was gone. She had traded an old sorrow for a fresh, searing pain and the only thing she could do was concentrate on keeping the air inside her lungs.

“Mama,” Danny cried.

“Be careful, little guy,” Harold said as Danny ran past.

The clomp-clomp of his feet caught Evelyn’s attention. There was one thing that held no struggle for her heart, and that was Danny. She moved to rise, but Jim’s arms were still wrapped around her.

“Easy. Don’t sit up too fast.” Even his whisper reverberated in the stillness of the room. Danny stopped when he heard Jim speak, and his eyes assessed his mother so near this other man.

Evelyn thought of the past few months, of how many times she had to dig deep to find the strength to face one more day. Now was the time to gather her courage and show her son that life was fair and full of love, even if she didn’t believe it herself. She glanced at Jim and nodded. He lifted her carefully to a sitting position but kept his arm around her.

“Mama?” Danny’s question hung in the stillness.

“Mama’s okay. I just fell down.” She reached her arms out for Danny and he crossed the distance and snuggled against his mother. Evelyn kissed the top of his head and he squirmed and peered at Jim with the same crystal-blue eyes of his father. She smiled when she noticed Jim make the same connection.

“Danny, do you know who this man is?”

Danny shook his head and looked away. Evelyn rubbed his back and Danny clutched her dress. She leaned back against Jim, about to speak, but then the force of the moment landed on her chest. This was her family, and it was the first time they’d ever been together. A shiver of unexpected joy ran through her—the dream she had held onto so tight at first that her mother feared it would destroy her, had come to fruition.

“This is Jim Patterson and he’s your daddy.”

Again those blue eyes were searching from beneath a shadow of dark lashes, trying to comprehend what he heard.

“Sweetheart, Daddy got lost and it took him a long time to find us. Now he’s here and he wants to say hello to you.”

Jim coughed and leaned forward. “Hello, Danny. I’m so happy I could be here for your birthday, and I’m going to be here tomorrow, too.”

Danny stared at Jim again and held up two fingers. “Boy. Two.”

Jim laughed and held out his index finger, touching each of Danny’s fingers. “One, two. You are a big boy.”

His eyes sparkled with moisture as he looked at his son. “I still can’t believe I’m a father. I have a son.” Putting his arm around Evelyn, he pulled her and Danny close to him. “We’re a family.”

Marie sniffled and Harold handed her his handkerchief. “This is wonderful,” she said.

Evelyn took Jim’s hand and uncurled his fingers, then she placed Danny’s hand against his father’s. Danny wriggled his fingers and folded his arms, still in awe of the man holding his mother.

“Do you know the song Mommy sings to you at night?”

Danny nodded.

“This man—Daddy—gave me that song. He gave that song to me because he loves me so much.”

She glanced at Jim and smiled. “When Daddy was lost, I wanted to find him, but I didn’t know how. So I wrote words to the song to help me find him. And today he found me, and he found you.”

She began to sing and the worry fled from Danny’s eyes. He relaxed against his mother and as she rocked him, his eyelids fluttered. The grandfather clock chimed fifteen minutes past seven.

“He’s had a very busy day,” Marie whispered. “He missed his nap for the party.”

With a questioning glance, Jim moved to take his sleeping son from Evelyn. She nodded and shifted Danny’s weight into her husband’s arms. Then she rose and followed him noiselessly up the stairs.

After they closed the door to Danny’s room, they stood in the hallway, the amber glow of the hall lamp casting shadows across Jim’s face. Evelyn could feel so many unspoken words travel between them and when Jim leaned toward her, she didn’t back away even though her instinct was to do so. She propelled herself forward into his arms with the same roots of strength that had kept her walking through each day for the past two years and nine months.

Jim held her, but he didn’t kiss her.

“Your voice is beautiful. The words—that song—it was wonderful.”

She looked at him, remembering that her father had talked to him while she sat in Sterling’s car. How much had he disclosed? She scrutinized Jim’s face. He didn’t know, and Evelyn trusted her father wouldn’t have told him. It would be up to her, that’s what her mother had hinted earlier.

But Jim was nervous; she could feel the beads of sweat forming on the underside of his hands, warming her forearms. He sensed something was wrong, or maybe
knew
something was, but the horror of the details was far from his mind.

He didn’t know. She inhaled, realizing she’d been holding her breath.

“Why don’t we go polish off some more cake and ice cream?” Evelyn suggested. “I’m sure my parents are ready to burst with questions.”

Jim laughed and Evelyn felt a thrill at the familiarity of that sound. It had been so long, but she remembered the cadence of his voice, the music of his laugh.

“This is about the strangest homecoming I could’ve imagined, but I’m so grateful to be here.”

The cake and ice cream were delicious and everyone seemed to be conscious of not talking with their mouths full. Marie tried her best to steer the conversation away from awkward topics and Harold asked Jim a few more questions about being a prisoner of war. Jim held Evelyn’s hand and rubbed her wedding band with his thumb. The cake kept lodging in her throat against the tears that lurked just under the surface.

The lulls in the conversation left several moments of silent chewing as everyone skirted around the man named Sterling Dennison.

“I’m sure Jim is tired,” Evelyn said. “I know I am. Maybe we can talk more tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Marie said a little too brightly.

“It’s good to have you back, Son,” Harold said.

“Thank you for taking care of Evelyn and my son.” Jim’s voice cracked and he left the kitchen with Evelyn close behind.

At the top of the stairs, Jim leaned against the wall and rubbed his hands over his face. “Your dad told me that Sterling was going to ask you to marry him. Evelyn, I’m sorry I couldn’t have made it here sooner. Why did I have to lose my memory?” He clenched his jaw, and Evelyn saw a fraction of the turmoil he faced.

“I don’t understand why half the things that happen in life do, but I believe we gain something from every experience.” She tilted her head to look at Jim’s face.

“I keep hearing the words to your song.”

“Our song,” Evelyn said.

Jim smiled. “Our song. But I keep thinking about those words—there’s an angel on my shoulder. Did you believe those words?”

Their eyes met and Evelyn shivered as the hairs on her arms stood on end. “Of course. I felt you with me. That’s why it was so hard for me to move on.”

“I’d like to hear you sing it again.”

“You’ll have the chance. I’m scheduled to sing at the Silver Lining two weeks from now.”

Jim clasped her hands. “That’s wonderful. And I’ll be there to listen.”

She ducked her head. “It was part of a deal I made with Sterling a while back.” Jim dropped her hands. “I promised him I’d get back on stage and sing again.”

“Oh, you’ve sung there before?”

She took his hand and held it between both of hers. “Yes, that’s how I met Sterling. He helped me arrange the music and he played his guitar while I sang.”

Jim shook his head and pursed his lips. “It’s hard for me, but I know Sterling is important to you. So I’m going to be grateful you’ve chosen me and try to understand what’s happening with your heart.”

“Thank you, Jim.” She covered her heart with her hand. “It’s difficult for me, too. I don’t understand yet—there’re so many different emotions—but I’m trying.”

“Good night.” He opened his mouth to say more, then clamped it shut. With a nod, he entered the spare bedroom. Evelyn’s heart plummeted as he hesitated just outside the doorway. He wanted to be with her, but she couldn’t go there right now. Not until she’d had time to straighten things out and help him understand what she was going through.

Emika gripped the crutches and propelled herself forward. The brace on her right leg jangled. She struggled to straighten her leg, the muscles tight with the movement.

“Wonderful,” the nurse said. “Now take three more steps.”

Gritting her teeth, she took another step and paused for a breath. She followed the same routine each day, trying to walk with a crippled leg. The polio virus had attacked her body, and as the nurse explained it frightened her legs so much, they didn’t want to work anymore. So each day, Emika would concentrate on telling her legs not to be afraid and taking one painful step at a time to show the nurse how brave she could be.

The physical therapy stretched her muscles, and sometimes Emika cried out when her legs throbbed during the night, the muscles reacting to the treatment. The nurses would come with soothing voices and warm cloths and tell her what a good job she was doing.

“You’ll show those legs who’s boss,” joked the nurse with straight black hair like Emika’s.

After each therapy session, Emika was allowed to rest. Sometimes her mother would read to her. At other times, the nurse would wind the music box for her and Emika would close her eyes and focus on the song.

She knew there was magic in that song. It had made the man feel better. Emika remembered how he had stopped crying, and in only a few weeks he was well enough to leave the center. She heard the nurses talking about that, too.

“If he didn’t have a ring on his finger, I’d take him home with me.” One nurse had giggled.

“I wonder where his wife is, if she has any idea that he’s alive,” another nurse said.

“If our own government couldn’t even tell him who he was, she must’ve thought he was dead. Poor thing. This whole time she was probably trying to put her life back together.”

The nurses had continued chattering as they walked down the hall, and Emika listened to their voices echoing against the sterile walls. She tried to cling to the sounds of laughter, since it was hard for her to laugh. For some reason, things weren’t as funny or bright as she remembered.

“Hello, Emika. Let me wind your music box for you,” the nurse named Suzy said. She smiled and patted Emika’s arm. “I think we need to make you a chart to help you keep track of time.”

“Why?” Emika asked.

“Because, there isn’t much time left until you’ll be going home,” Suzy said.

“Home?” Emika smiled, but then stopped and licked her lips. “My legs still hurt.”

Suzy rubbed her hands over Emika’s legs. “If you keep working as hard as you have been, you’ll beat this thing. You’ll still have to do some work at the hospital in your hometown, but I think your legs are getting stronger.”