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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

Clay pulled back a bit and searched her face, his eyes round. “If you put it that way.”

She bit her lip, at once shy and completely comfortable. “Will you join me?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He didn’t even hesitate. Then he laughed. “Now I really need to take you someplace nice for dinner.”

“Ahem.” Someone cleared a throat across the room.

Leah sprang out of Clay’s arms.

Mrs. Sheridan laughed. “No need to jump, Mrs. Paxton. However, we do have patrons outside waiting to come in.”

“You kept them out?” Leah smoothed her hair. Oh dear—her lipstick would be a mess.

“Sergeant, when did you come home?” the librarian asked.

“Last night, ma’am.”

Mrs. Sheridan pointed over her shoulder with her thumb. “Y’all, get out of here. And Mrs. Paxton, I don’t want to see you for days and days.”

Clay grinned and jumped off the table. “I’ve been in the Army long enough to know an order. Come on, Leah.” He grabbed her hand and marched toward the door.

“But I haven’t finished . . .” She gestured to her cart—oh, where had she left it?

“I’ll finish.” Mrs. Sheridan held out Leah’s purse. “Off with you.”

Leah scampered after Clay, barely managing to grab her purse.

On the sidewalk they passed a few people waiting to enter the library, and Clay kept up his brisk pace.

Leah laughed, her hand entwined with his and her feet struggling to keep up. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

“To live, my little wife. To live!” Clay spun to her, grabbed her in his arms, and lifted her off her feet. Right in downtown Tullahoma in sight of everyone.

But Leah could only see the love in her husband’s face.

He set her on her feet and rocked her in a circle, her first dance and the sweetest she could imagine. “It’s our time to live. Our time to laugh, our time to dance, our time to love.”

“Our.” No finer word graced the English language. “And here I find where I belong.”

Epilogue

KERRVILLE, TEXAS
MONDAY, DECEMBER 24, 1945

Clay smoothed Mama’s embroidery on his white mariachi outfit and the extra strips of fabric Leah had sewn into the sleeves and sides to accommodate Ranger muscles.

He hadn’t worn the outfit for four and a half years, since the day his brothers had run away. Now they were all home.

He trotted down the stairs inside the Paxton home in Kerrville. Mariachi music drifted in from the front lawn where the clan was gathering for the annual Paxton-Ramirez Christmas Eve barbecue.

So why did he hear male voices in Daddy’s study?

Daddy, Wyatt, Adler, and Reginald Fairfax, Wyatt’s British father-in-law, sat chatting. Daddy smiled up at him. “Howdy, son.”

Clay leaned against the doorjamb. “It’s Christmas Eve, the war is over, and you fellows are talking business.”