Tom worried that today’s jumps would be especially precarious given the winds howling outside their bedroom window. Not so much that the glider flights had been canceled, but they would have to take extra care to maneuver their parachutes into the targeted landing zone. Winters believed that unless it was inherently dangerous, every jump would go on as scheduled. Hitler didn’t slow his advances based on the weather forecast and neither should they. At least here in England there were no enemies waiting to shoot them down. That was coming, no doubt about it. But for now, their mission was to perfect their skills, no matter what conditions the day brought, so that they’d be ready as soon as Uncle Sam activated them.

Tom could see the wistful look on John’s face as he tied his boots and knew he was thinking about Dottie. “It’s all well and good to be here with the two of you. But I, for one, can’t wait for all this to be over so I can go back to my girl. Dottie and I—we were going to get married and then I got called up. But maybe it worked out better. Now you boys can come to the wedding.”

Tom and William exchanged a look. As with all of Margaret’s letters, William had showed him the one where Margaret revealed the news about Dottie and the baby. He’d agreed to keep it from John for now, but he didn’t like having that kind of news sitting between them, unspoken. The three of them had held back nothing in the dark hours in the English countryside. Except this.

William spoke up. “I’m curious, John. Why didn’t you marry her before you shipped out? Lots of boys did. That way they get to, well, you know, be with her before leaving if they haven’t already. And on a more practical front, as a war widow, she’d have a pension if you bite the dust.”

John shrugged. “I asked her. For that very reason. Well, the second one. And she refused.”

Tom looked up from buttoning his jacket. “She said she wouldn’t marry you?”

“We’re definitely getting married. We already had the date planned and the church booked. But it was the other part. The pension. She said that moving the wedding up just to account for something horrible happening made it feel like she was signing my death warrant. Her very words.”

“Is she superstitious?” asked William.

“I’ve never known her to be. But I think war does certain things to people. And she just got it in her head that planning for my death would be, well, expecting it, I suppose. Or bringing it about.”

“And the other part?” William winked, and Tom blushed at the implication.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” said John. “But I will say, our goodbye was a special one.”