He was a quiet one, and having skipped lunch, she was too hungry to encourage him if he didn’t want to say more.

He sat down and she handed him a clipboard and pen along with the application.

“You can fill this out. I have some work of my own to do. We’ll look it over when you’re finished.”

“Thank you.”

Goodness, he certainly hadn’t won the war with his loquaciousness. He’d likely be suited for one of the mechanical jobs that didn’t require a lot of conversation.

He took the clipboard from her and his hand brushed hers as she did so. She shivered again, this time as if she’d touched an electrical socket, and pulled back quickly. He sat a little higher than she did and he looked down at her as their eyes locked. His were big and brown, even as they sat beneath his cap and what looked to be a mop of hair underneath it.

He almost looked like—but no, that was a crazy thought.

Still, something about him made her cheeks feel warm.

Hmmm. Cold and warm. How could she feel both at the same time?

She gripped the edge of her desk and decided to leave him to it. She swung her chair around, delighted by its ability to swivel, and returned to her canvas bag where she could hide whatever strange things she was feeling.

She pulled out another framed picture—John’s official military photograph. How dashing he’d looked. How eager to do his part. His would sit right on her desk, just as he had in her former location.

The soldier scratched away as she continued. He seemed keenly interested in what he was putting on there, though it had asked only the most basic of things—name, address, experience, references, and so forth.

She pulled the next one out—a family portrait of George, Dottie, and Joanna. Her niece looked like a cherub in her white eyelet dress. The picture would be outdated soon enough, as Dottie was five months in the family way. Once again, she’d refused the rabbit test, protesting the practice by buying Joanna a bunny of her own.

Then, one of her parents. John had taken it a few months before he went to basic training. It was their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, and he’d wanted to do something special for them as a gift.

And finally, the most precious to her of all. Because except for John, she got to see all the others on a near-daily basis. But these three had only a presence of black and white and gray shades on paper she’d kept protected in glass.

She swiveled again, her back to the soldier, and studied the picture she knew by heart. Her finger traced the outlines of her brother’s face, and then the two others. William and Tom. Tom and William.