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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

The sisters she’d once known and loved approached. They didn’t look like Leah, but they shared her curls, her coloring, and her build. What else did they share?

“I can’t wait to read it out loud.” Callie grinned at her paper. “I quote a particularly romantic Shakespearean sonnet, and I plan to look straight into Bobby Horton’s dreamy eyes as I recite it.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would. Watch me.”

Her sister loved poetry too, and Leah couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe at all.

Callie flung up one arm dramatically. “‘Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments. Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove: Oh, no! it is an ever-fixèd mark.’”

Polly giggled. “That wonderful bard. Poor Bobby doesn’t stand a chance.”

The girls came closer, taller than Leah by several inches, nourished by better food and attention than Leah had received. Thank goodness they’d found a loving home.

The girls spotted her.

“Good morning, ma’am.” Callie pressed a hand to her chest. “Lovely morning for a sonnet, is it not?”

That gratitude raised a smile. “It is.”

Polly shook her head at Leah as they passed on the sidewalk. “Pardon my sister, ma’am. She’s loopy.”

Her eyes—it was like looking in a mirror.

Callie grabbed Polly’s arm and hugged it. “But I’m your loop-de-loop.”

“You are.” Polly laughed.

And the two little muses walked away. Away from Leah.

Certainty crushed her chest, her breath, her hope, her dreams.

They were complete apart from her, happy and healthy and together.

Leah had to let them go.

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41

POINTE DU HOC
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 7, 1944

Clay opened his eyes. Or was he still dreaming?

Pale morning light filled the giant bowl of the crater. Clay rested with his head about two feet below the rim on the southern side. The dirt, the pebbles, the tuft of burnt grass—everything was just like in his recurring dream.

Clay swallowed hard, his mouth dry. He took his canteen off his belt and took a swig, just like in his dream. Only this time he tasted the metallic water and felt it drop into the emptiness of his stomach.

This was no dream. This was his dream coming to life.

Dizziness swept through him, but he shook it away. Lord, give me strength.

Gene dozed beside him. So much for staying awake while Clay slept. On the far side of the crater Ruby watched over the northern rim, and Taylor stirred awake at Ruby’s feet.

Clay inched higher. Light gray powder dusted the edge of the crater. He found a notch in the rim and peered through.

A pillbox stood about one hundred feet away, where Clay knew it would be, one of the giant reinforced concrete casemates the Germans had been building to house the 155-mm guns. The guns had never been installed.