His gaze returned to her, questioning and unsure and somehow vulnerable, as if he needed the faith of just one soul.

“I believe you,” she said.

He leaned his elbows on his knees. “You ever have a dream that you’re about to die? And you wake in a cold sweat?”

“Like when you’re falling. Yes.”

“Well, I have a dream like that about once a week, every time the same.” He spoke quietly but firmly. “Only in this dream, I do die. When I wake up, I feel complete peace.”

“Oh my.” She’d never heard of such a thing.

“I’m in battle, in a foxhole, and I have to throw a grenade into a pillbox.” Clay made a small throwing motion. “There’s a machine gun inside, and I can see the bullets coming nearer. I feel one hit, and I go down. My buddies storm the pillbox, then all goes black and quiet. And I know—I know without a doubt that’s how I’ll die. That’s why I joined the Rangers.”

“Aren’t you . . . shouldn’t you be trying to avoid it?”

He smiled as if amused. “You’d think so. It’s hard to explain, but I know the dream came from the Lord. I want it to come true.”

For his sake, she wanted to understand, but how could she?

“I was in a pit.” Clay studied the cap he held between his knees. “My brothers stole my future. I told you that. Wyatt stole my college money, and Adler stole the girl I’d planned to marry.”

“Oh dear.” He hadn’t mentioned the girlfriend before.

“That was only the start of it. My life was a pit. I was miserable. Then God gave me this dream and showed me the way out. Never once has it bothered me. It always brings peace, even joy.”

And peace radiated from his face.

“I know I’ll die for a good cause.” His eyes shone with . . . anticipation? “Then I’ll be with Jesus, so what’s to fear? ‘To die is gain.’”

“Philippians,” Leah whispered, but she didn’t quote the first part of the verse, the part Clay seemed to have forgotten—“To live is Christ.”

Clay gave her a sheepish smile. “Thanks for trying to understand. My parents don’t. They think I’m fatalistic because I’ve lost so much. But that isn’t it. Not at all.”

“No. I can see that.” She saw a man embracing a purpose. What a shame that the purpose was to die.

“I haven’t told any of the fellows.” He fiddled with his cap and glanced around the ward. “The Army might deem me mentally unfit and boot me out.”

“I won’t tell a soul.”

“I’d appreciate that.” Then he laughed. “Say, I promise I didn’t come to talk about death and dying. I came to cheer you up.”