His fingers dug into the grass. He’d assigned similar motives to his brothers. When they stole from him, he’d felt worthless. He, as the half-breed half brother, didn’t deserve to go to college and become a physician and marry the pretty blonde. Maybe Wyatt and Adler thought that way, and maybe they didn’t, but that’s how it felt.

Worthless.

Clay got back up to his feet. Leah wasn’t worthless, and neither was he. And hadn’t his brothers always treated him fairly before that day? Hadn’t they always defended him and stood up for him? Maybe their actions on that day stemmed from pure fear and grief and anger. Didn’t make it right. But it also didn’t mean they considered him worthless.

And was Clay really any better than they were? Both he and Adler had lost the women they loved that day. Both he and Adler had lashed out in rage.

Clay’s head sagged back. He wasn’t any better. Not one whit.

Leah’s letters overflowed with hope that he would forgive his brothers and be reconciled with them.

Forgiveness, yes. But reconciliation?

Clay strolled to the edge of the cliff. Little waves washed the pebbly beach below, inching toward the bluff.

Spring and the invasion approached as relentlessly as the tide. He wanted to forgive his brothers fully before he died. Maybe he’d send letters to them in Kerrville in case they ever came home.

Reconciliation required seeing them in person, and he had no interest in that. Even his brief sighting of Adler on the Queen Elizabeth had been too much.

At least the war made reconciliation impossible. While Clay scaled cliffs on the southern coast, Adler would be stationed at an airfield north of London. And who knew where Wyatt was?

Something Leah had written poked at him. She’d given up hope of finding clues about her family.

Leah had two sisters, and she’d do anything to see them again.

Clay had two brothers, and he’d do anything not to see them again.

“Lord, could you—” He groaned and kicked a pebble down the slope. For the sake of the war effort, he didn’t dare pray to postpone D-day. “Help me out. I’ve got a long way to go.”

25

TULLAHOMA
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 24, 1944

Leah admired Heidi on the bookshelf at the Coffee Children’s Home. Keeping the book for herself didn’t seem right when her dear friend belonged with the orphans.

Two fifth-grade boys knelt before the eight volumes of the 1921 World Book Encyclopedia.

“All right, Mikey.” Leah massaged her aching lower back. “Your report is on James Polk. Which volume will you choose?”

He mouthed the alphabet. “This one—it has J.”

“Dumbbell,” his twin brother Marty said. “It’s by last name—P.”