Leah had his service portrait and the wedding portrait, but he wanted the baby to have more pictures of her daddy.

Clay and Gene joined the stream of men heading to the mess for dinner.

“You heard ‘Big Jim,’” Clay said. “We’re getting five-day passes. Want to visit Washington, D.C.?”

“Let me guess. A library.”

Clay gave his buddy a light punch on that chevron. “Only the Library of Congress itself.”

“The foolish things a man does for love.”

Clay shrugged. Love had nothing to do with it. “The price of being a married man.”

“But oh, the benefits.” Gene whistled.

Clay punched him harder in the chevron.

“Hey.” Gene rubbed his arm. “I wasn’t thinking of that. I mean, it’s nice to know someone cares about you, supports you, depends on you. Makes you feel good inside.”

“Yeah, it does.” Marrying Leah had complicated his life—but enriched it.

“Excuse me. Are you Private Paxton?”

Clay faced an officer about his height, Capt. Walter Block. He saluted. Swell. He’d avoided the new battalion surgeon since the man’s arrival at Fort Dix. “Yes, sir.”

Dr. Block returned his salute, a smile crinkling his friendly face. “Major Rudder wanted me to meet you.”

This again? Clay stifled a groan. “Sir, I don’t want to be a medic.”

The physician laughed. “He also told me you’d say that.”

Clay motioned for Gene to go on without him. “Sir—”

“I’m not trying to recruit you. Major Rudder said you have an interest in medicine, and I enjoy meeting people who share my interests.”

Rangers passed Clay and Doc Block with quizzical looks. If the fellows learned about his interest in medicine, they’d ask too many questions and bring up too many memories.

“I’m headed to the mess myself.” Doc Block gestured down the path. “Must keep up my energy for those marches.”

Clay fell in alongside the officer. He had to admire him. He’d been a pediatrician in Chicago before the war and had volunteered for the Rangers. Even though he was forty and medical officers weren’t required to participate in the long marches, he did.

“Major Rudder said you’d been accepted into a premed program.”

Major Rudder talked too much. “I went into the family business instead. The past is past.”

“I understand.” The captain strolled between the white clapboard buildings. “I heard you did an exemplary job performing first aid on a woman who was assaulted at Camp Forrest.”

Clay’s breath caught at the memory of Leah’s terrified eyes and gagged mouth. And the monster who hurt her still roamed free. “I—I did my best.”

“You saved her life. Do you mind if I ask what you did? Rudder is a football coach. He was no use at all.”