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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

Clay pulled the snapshot from the envelope, the picture of Leah holding baby Helen to face the camera. Over and over he’d studied Helen’s face—so tiny it only intensified the desire to see her, to watch her expressions and hear her cries and coos.

And Leah. Something in his chest stirred and rolled. She’d changed. Nothing girlish or naïve remained. She was a woman. A beautiful woman.

The way those dark eyes looked to the camera, still dreamy but with a new poise. And the way her lips tipped up at the corners, serene but strong.

Clay had married a lost waif who needed his protection and his giving. Along the way, something had changed. She’d begun giving to him. He craved her words, soft but true. He needed her.

He loved her.

Clay stifled a groan and tucked the photo and letter back in his pocket. He was afraid this might happen. He was afraid he’d fall in love. Now he couldn’t deny it any longer.

Through an opening in the shrubbery, the cliff fell away beside him. So like their objective on the far shore.

Where he’d die.

Clay kept his feet moving, although the stirring in his chest transformed to churning. For three years, he’d wanted to die to escape the pit of his life. But now the pit wasn’t miserable. It was downright cozy. He belonged to the best unit in the US Army, and he had the sweetest wife and baby girl in the world.

If his brothers hadn’t . . .

Clay’s eyes stretched wide, taking in gravelly path and trees and clouds and insight.

If his brothers hadn’t cast him in the pit, he never would have been drafted. He never would have joined the Rangers. He wouldn’t have been at Camp Forrest—

His blood ran cold.

He wouldn’t have passed the library that July night. Leah would have bled to death. Even if she’d lived, Clay wouldn’t have been there to marry her. She would have given Helen up for adoption.

“Oh, Lord. Thank you,” he murmured. Thank you for the pit. Thank you—thank you for letting my brothers take away my future so Leah and Helen could have a future.

His chest convulsed. He gasped long and hard—quickly faked a cough to divert his friends’ attention.

Clay could barely breathe, barely walk, barely think, everything upside down and backward and topsy-turvy.

And everything turned right side up for the first time in three years.

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31

TULLAHOMA
SUNDAY, MAY 14, 1944

On the church lawn, Miss King from the orphanage peeked into the carriage—not easy with Luella and Sally Bellamy guarding “their” baby. “My, she’s good. I hope this means you can volunteer again soon. The children keep asking about you.”

Leah rolled her hands around the handle of the baby carriage. “Thank you.”