Miss Mayhew rested one hand on the desk and the other on her hip, her blue eyes narrowed at the unfinished ceiling. “You said there are quite a few children’s books. How about the school libraries?”

“I talked to them last week. They already carry most of the books we have. Except the Davidson Academy said they never have enough.”

“That’s the school for colored children, isn’t it?” Miss Mayhew shuddered. “I can’t stand the segregation here in the South.”

“Me neither. I’m glad we can supplement their library. However, there are still lots of books they don’t want either.” Leah nibbled on her bottom lip. “Do you know if there’s an orphanage in the area?”

“I don’t know. I’ve only been in Tullahoma for a year.” She frowned at a copy of John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath. “Do orphanages have libraries?”

“Mine didn’t, but a true home, a good home, should have books. Mine will.” Somehow it would. The Bellamy home had a pair of bookshelves flanking the fireplace, with the bottom two shelves bright with children’s books. “Where there are books, children read.”

“It applies to adults too.” Miss Mayhew swept a smile around the bustling library. “Many of these boys only have an eighth-grade education. Even the high school graduates didn’t read much after they left school. But here they do. They’re bored. They’re too tired from training to do sports. So they read.”

“And they read a lot.” Leah enjoyed her conversations as the men discovered the joy of a good book.

“Your orphanage idea has merit.” Miss Mayhew opened a drawer and handed Leah the phone book for Coffee County.

Leah thumbed through, and her heart warmed. Right in Tullahoma, in an area Leah hadn’t explored. “Coffee Children’s Home, how would you like some books?”

FORT DIX, NEW JERSEY
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 29, 1943

“Battalion dismissed!” Major Rudder called.

Five hundred Rangers broke formation on the parade grounds at Fort Dix.

Gene peered down the left sleeve of his khaki shirt. “Swell patch.”

“Sure is.” On his left shoulder, Clay stroked the brand-new patch. Yellow letters on a blue diamond declared “Rangers.” Too bad it didn’t read “2nd Rangers,” since five battalions had now been established. The 1st, 3rd, and 4th Battalions were fighting in Italy, and the 5th Battalion was training back at Camp Forrest.

“Look at us—privates first class.” Gene inspected the new silver-on-black chevron on Clay’s sleeve. All the privates in the Rangers had been promoted, and Clay wouldn’t turn down the extra six dollars a month.

“Say, let’s use your swanky new camera.” Gene posed, pointing at his sleeve. “Won’t our wives be proud?”

“Yeah, let’s.” When they’d arrived at Fort Dix, Rudder had issued weekend passes. Clay and Gene had visited New York City, and Clay had purchased a Brownie camera.