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Back The Land Beneath Us
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

Under her umbrella, Leah compared the address on the library postcard to the house before her, a blue-and-white Victorian in Tullahoma’s nicest neighborhood across from the railroad and businesses these families had founded.

She and Mama had returned to Tullahoma yesterday, and this morning Mama had taken the train back to Kerrville. Leah’s little house felt empty without Lupe Paxton.

Up on the porch, Leah lowered her umbrella and rang the doorbell. In a minute, a slender woman with graying blonde hair opened the door.

“Good afternoon, ma’am. I’m Mrs. Clay Paxton. Is Mr. Robert Mason at home?”

“He’s at work.” Her eyes narrowed—in suspicion? “I’m his wife. May I help you?”

“Yes, please.” Leah shone her brightest smile and held out the postcard. “I’m returning a postcard addressed to him.”

“A postcard?” She didn’t take it.

“Yes, ma’am. Did you donate a set of encyclopedias to the Victory Book Campaign?”

“Why, yes.” Mrs. Mason’s posture relaxed.

“Thank you so much. The campaign wasn’t able to use the books, so we donated them to the Coffee Children’s Home. The children love having their own encyclopedia set. It’s so much easier for them to do homework.”

Thin lips curved in a pleasant smile. “I never would have thought of that. How wonderful.”

“A child found this postcard tucked inside. I must confess I took it home because it’s beautiful and reminded me of my childhood. But it doesn’t belong to me, so I’m returning it.”

She frowned and took Leah’s offering. “It’s only a postcard.”

“But it belongs to your husband.”

Mrs. Mason smiled at the back. “From Ricky. Oh my. Richard—he’s my husband’s little brother. He hasn’t gone by Ricky for years. This must have been from his gallivanting days.”

“I’m sure it’ll be a fond memory for your husband.”

She laughed, bright as the colors on the postcard. “I’m sure he won’t remember, but thank you. I’m sorry, you told me your name and I don’t recall it. We haven’t met before.”

“Mrs. Clay Paxton—Leah. I’m fairly new to town.”

“I can tell from your accent.” Her smile continued to grow in warmth. “Thank you. This was right kind of you.”

Leah said her good-byes and departed, a warm rain pattering on her umbrella. As much pleasure as the postcard had given her, she’d received greater pleasure returning it, releasing what had never belonged to her.