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Back The Land Beneath Us Save as PDF
Chapters (62)
  1. Cover
  2. Endorsements
  3. Books by Sarah Sundin
  4. Title Page
  5. Copyright Page
  6. Presidential Radio Broadcast
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. Epilogue
  58. Acknowledgments
  59. Discussion Questions
  60. About the Author
  61. Back Ads
  62. Back Cover

“You’ll see your baby in the morning,” the redhead said. “We need to take her to the nursery, and you need to rest.”

Dr. Adams held up one hand to the nurse and gave Leah a solemn and momentous look. “Are you sure you’re ready to see her?”

Leah swallowed hard. What if something about Helen reminded her of the wolf? Although Leah hadn’t seen his face, what if she’d met him and recognized some feature in her daughter? But would that change her love? Never. “I want to see my baby.”

Dr. Adams nodded to Nurse Simmons.

“Here she is, Mrs. Paxton. Please stay flat on your back. It’s very important.” Nurse Simmons laid a blanketed bundle beside Leah on the mattress.

Helen’s face peeked out, set like a jewel in the folds of white flannel, red and wrinkled and capped with black hair.

“Hello, baby.” Leah laughed and stroked that sweet face, seeing her daughter for the first time, yet knowing her better than she’d ever known another human being. “My Helen. My daughter.”

The baby’s face softened, and her eyes opened, dark and bright and soulful.

“Hello, baby. Hello, sweet girl.” Leah stretched to kiss her baby’s warm, firm cheek. Her love swelled and strengthened and deepened until it filled every corner of her being.

“She’s beautiful,” the redhead said. “She has your mouth.”

Did she? Leah studied her, touched her, and memorized every detail.

“Do you see your husband in her?” Nurse Simmons asked.

She shouldn’t . . . and yet. “Her eyes. They’re Clay’s eyes.”

It couldn’t be, yet it was. How sweet of the Lord, and how fitting. Every time Leah looked at her daughter, she’d see the man she loved, the man who’d allowed them both to live.

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28

SWANAGE, DORSET, ENGLAND
MONDAY, APRIL 17, 1944

“Mail call!”

Silence fell over the mess hall. As hungry as Clay was after a day of training, he craved letters more than food.

Names rang out, and Rangers got up from benches. A week earlier, three of the six assault companies had transferred to Swanage on the south coast between Weymouth and Southampton. The other three companies remained at the British Assault Training School in Braunton, not far from Bude. Clay had enjoyed his week at Braunton, which had focused on taking out fortified positions. Like the pillbox in his recurring dream.

“Paxton!”

Clay forked the last bite of mutton into his mouth and retrieved an envelope addressed in Daddy’s strong script. He worked his finger under the lip and headed back to his seat.

“Paxton!”

Two in one day. He grinned and reversed course. A smaller envelope this time—a cablegram. From Tennessee!

Clay ripped it open. “HELEN MARGARITA PAXTON BORN APRIL 12 STOP 7 POUNDS STOP MOTHER AND BABY WELL STOP YOURS LEAH.”

He whooped. “It’s a girl! I’m a daddy!”