Clay and Ruby followed. About a dozen men jogged up the exit road in twos and threes, back the way they’d come in the morning.

Clay kept his rifle ready and his ears tuned. But he only heard Ranger footfalls and his own huffing breath. For some reason, the Germans hadn’t pursued them.

He didn’t take any chances. He checked behind walls, inside trenches, and around shattered tree trunks.

The Rangers turned off the exit road and headed toward the cliff they’d climbed. Clay and Ruby leapfrogged between craters, but only distant gunfire sounded, deep and booming.

At the edge of the cliff, Taylor slipped down into a crater and Clay and Ruby followed.

Headquarters, with a dozen or so Rangers, including Colonel Rudder, thank goodness.

Taylor reported the situation to Rudder, the officers’ voices low and grim.

“Clay? Ruby?”

He spun around at the familiar voice. “G. M.!”

His buddy sat leaning back against the crater wall, his lower right leg swathed in white.

Clay grabbed his outstretched hand and shook it hard. “What happened?”

“Sniper shot me through the calf.” Gene gestured to the dark shape of a bunker close by. “Doc Block patched me up and sent me back out to fight. That’s the aid station.”

The old longing pulled Clay toward the bunker. Maybe the physician could use some help. But if he’d sent Gene out to fight, he’d surely send Clay skedaddling.

“I’ve been guarding HQ.” Gene chuckled. “You should’ve seen Lieutenant Eikner. The radios have been giving us trouble, but remember how the lieutenant brought that old signal lamp from the last war? He used it to call in fire from the Satterlee. The destroyer took out those machine guns to the east. When the Satterlee ran out of ammo, the Thompson took over.”

“Wow.”

“Paxton, Ruby.” Taylor set a hand on Clay’s shoulder. “We’re setting up a perimeter. Let’s go.”

“Me too.” Gene pushed up onto his good leg. “I can hobble just fine.”

Arguments filled Clay’s mouth, but he swallowed them. In the same position, Clay would have done the same thing.

“Come on, buddy.” Clay drew Gene’s arm up over his shoulder so he could support him. “Let’s find a nice spot to watch the sunrise.”

His breath caught. He would indeed watch another sunrise.

CHICAGO
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 7, 1944

Leah pushed Juanita’s baby carriage across the street and two houses down from her sisters’ address. Helen dozed under her pink blanket.

Leah had told Mama and Juanita that she planned to visit the University of Chicago and then city hall so she could obtain her birth certificate. That was true.