The Soldier's Bride (15 page)

The first day the man heard the music, he had smiled at Emika and examined the secret messages inside. The next day she watched him shuffle back and forth across the room with a walker. When her mother wound the music box for her, he stopped and gripped the walker until his fingers turned white against the metal. The third day, he maneuvered his wheelchair close to Emika’s bedside and watched as the ballerina danced.

When the song ended, he nodded his head and smiled. “I was a soldier in the war. Some bad people took me and hurt me until I almost died.”

Emika wadded up the edge of the bedding and stared at the dingy white sheet.

“They hurt my head.” He turned to the side and Emika shrank back at the sight of several ugly pink scars that ran from the top of his head, past his ear, and down his neck. He turned back and smiled at Emika. “I didn’t know my name, but when you shared your music with me, something happened. I’ve been dreaming of a beautiful woman.” He pointed at the ring on his finger. “I think she’s my wife.”

“Does she know you’re here?”

“No, but as soon as I figure out where she is, I’m going to see her.” He looked at the music box and then lifted his head, his blue eyes shining. “Thank you for sharing your music box with me.”

“My dad’s friend gave it to me to help me get better,” Emika whispered.

“How nice. Do you mind if I wind it again?”

Emika smiled. “Please, I love to see her dance.”

They listened to the music, and the man turned the crank each time the ballerina stopped spinning. He twisted the ring on his finger. “There’s something about this music. I remember this song.”

“Happy Birthday, Danny!” Evelyn sang. “You’re two years old. What a big boy you are.”

Danny grinned and held up one pudgy finger. “Two.”

“Yes, two.” She helped him lift up a second finger, then kissed his cheek. The yellow tones of her dress accented her dark hair and creamy skin. It was the first time she’d worn such a bright color since news of Jim’s death had colored her life with glaring black and dull gray tones.

“I’m glad you wore the dress, dear,” her mother said. “It’s good for Danny to see you so happy.”

“Thanks, Mother.” Evelyn kissed her cheek. “I am happy. My beautiful boy is two today.”

“Handsome. He’s handsome and strapping, aren’t you, Danny?” Her father tousled Danny’s hair and tickled his side.

“Let’s blow out the candles on this cake, shall we?” Marie said. “Or did you want to wait a few more minutes to see if Sterling shows?”

Evelyn frowned. “He sounded so disappointed on the phone. I know he wanted to be here.”

Sterling had called thirty minutes ago to say that he’d been helping his neighbor all morning. A terrible windstorm had come through Aspen Falls before dawn and knocked a tree over on the milkman’s truck. Sterling had been working frantically trying to salvage the wrecked auto into something that would again resemble a milk truck.

Marie patted Evelyn’s hand. “He’s a good man. He’s doing right, helping Mr. Charlesworth. Most of the town depends on him for milk, and he’s got seven kids to feed besides.”

“I know.” Evelyn caught hold of her mother’s fingers and squeezed them. “That’s what Sterling said. He didn’t want to give anyone a reason to change their milk orders.”

“Stir. Cake,” Danny said and waved his arms.

Everyone laughed, and Danny giggled and waved his arms again.

“All right, let’s get your cake.” They had scrimped on sugar for over a month to have enough to spare for the cake. Harold had even cut back on the sugar in his coffee. Rations continued to affect every part of life. Evelyn knew her parents had looked forward to this small indulgence as much as she had. She set the chocolate cake—covered in yellow icing and decorated like a lion—in front of Danny.

“Roar!” Danny growled and everyone laughed again.

Evelyn kissed his cheek. “I love you, sweetie.” She pulled the cake back and lit the candles. They flickered violently as she pushed the cake closer to her son.

“Harold, did you leave a window open again?” Marie said. “Even in this cold? You know what that does to our heat bill. Besides the wind is trying to help Danny blow out his candles.”

“Fresh air never hurt anyone,” Harold said. “You know it gets stuffy in here, and it’s only open a crack. But you better hurry just in case, Danny.”

Danny watched the flickering flame and bits of wax drip onto the cake.

“Blow like this, Danny,” Evelyn blew the dark curls hanging over Danny’s forehead and he giggled. Then he sputtered and with a little help, blew the candles out.

Amid the clapping, a staccato of sharp knocks on the door could be heard.

“Wonder who that could be?” Harold said.

“It’s okay, Dad. I’ll get it,” Evelyn said. “Maybe Sterling made it over after all. We’ll have to relight the candles for him.”

She approached the doorway and saw that indeed, a window had been left slightly open. The long rectangular casement to the left of the bay window that looked out on the porch was open, and the rose-colored curtains moved back and forth over the pane of glass. Evelyn shivered and pushed it shut as she walked past.

The brass knob engraved with swirling flowers squeaked as she turned it and tugged on the heavy oak door. It came open with a gust of frosty air. Evelyn felt the wind snatch the words of greeting from her throat as it swept past. She looked at the man standing in front of her and was unable to speak. Finally, the breath escaped her lungs in a gasp, and she struggled to gather enough air to fill them again.

She blinked several times, and her lip trembled as she attempted to focus on the man in front of her. “Jim?”

“Yes, Evelyn, it’s me.” He stepped across the threshold.

She reached for him with shaking hands, her fingers clutching the sleeves of his coat, tears starting down her cheeks. “But . . . they told me you were dead. Oh, Jim!”

He reached for her at the same time she reached for him, his chest heaving with sobs. “I’m so sorry,” he choked out.

“You’re here,” Evelyn sobbed. “I can’t believe it. You’re alive!” His arms encircled her and everything about him was so familiar. Evelyn cried as she felt the beating of his heart against her cheek.

“Evelyn. I’ve missed you so much,” Jim said as he stroked her hair.

Evelyn held onto him, her legs weak, as every possible emotion crashed down on her. It was Jim, her husband. Her heart stuttered with hope and anxiety mixed together as it tried to communicate to her brain what his return meant.

He kissed her forehead, her cheek, and found her mouth, the salty taste of their tears mixing with the kiss. Evelyn pulled away and touched her trembling lips. “It’s been two and a half years. How—where have you been all this time?”

Jim held onto her hands like a lifeline. “I was a prisoner of war. I had severe head injuries. I couldn’t remember who I was.”

“Evelyn, who’s there?” Marie called from the kitchen. She heard her mother approaching the front door and then heard a shriek and a pan clatter to the floor. “Harold, come quick!”

Jim smiled and pulled Evelyn to his side. “I’m home,” he said as Harold shuffled from the kitchen.

Harold stared at Evelyn and Jim standing in the doorway. “It can’t be.”

Only then did Evelyn remember the man they had all expected to find on the doorstep. For a moment no one moved, and then Marie and Harold were crying and holding onto Jim.

“How is this possible?” Marie cried.

“I was a POW, got some head injuries and lost my memory. When they got me back to the states, I contracted polio. I’ve been at a rehab center in Minneapolis for a few months.”

“You mean, you’ve been here? In the United States and—oh!” Evelyn stepped back. “Wait, he doesn’t know.” She looked at her mother, referring to Danny—the son Jim knew nothing about. “I don’t want to scare him.”

Marie nodded and looked at Jim. “Harold, come back in the kitchen and give her a minute to explain.”

The scent of melted wax from the birthday candles hovered in the air, and Evelyn swallowed and looked at Jim. A thousand thoughts ran through her head, and fresh tears ran down her cheeks, spotting her yellow dress with moisture.

“Evelyn, what is it?” Jim whispered.

“You have a son.” She smiled as she watched her words register in Jim’s face.

He pulled her close and hugged her. “You were pregnant?”

“I didn’t know until after you left, and I wanted to send a letter, but it was too late.” Evelyn looked at Jim. She reached up and touched his cheek, took in the bright blue of his eyes. “It really is you. Would you like to meet your son?” She laced her fingers with his and felt the firmness of his grasp.

“It’s more than I could’ve hoped for,” Jim said.

They took two steps toward the kitchen and then Evelyn stopped. “Wait.” She bit her lip. “Today is his birthday. He’s only two and I didn’t know how to tell him about you to make him understand. I’ve shown him pictures, but he’s just a baby, and I didn’t know.”

Jim leaned down and kissed her lips as she spoke. He smiled. “It’s okay, don’t worry. Just introduce me for now. I’m sure he’ll figure it out.”

She nodded, unable to trust her voice to respond to the meaning behind Jim’s words. He supposed that when Danny saw Jim holding his mother close, kissing her and smiling at her, Danny would understand. With a sinking heart, Evelyn approached the kitchen fearing it would be otherwise.

Danny had kept quiet during the entire welcoming episode because he was delightfully stuffing his mouth with orange- and yellow-colored frosting. Bits of chocolate cake and icing clung to his chin, cheeks, and forehead, giving him a lion’s mane of sticky cake.

Jim sucked in a breath, and Evelyn knew he could see his likeness in his son.

“Jim, this is Danny,” Evelyn said.

“I have a son,” Jim murmured. He laughed and kissed his wife again. “I have a son.”

Marie wiped a tear from her cheek and leaned against Harold. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Harold looked uncomfortable. He turned his head and coughed, but not before Evelyn caught the worried question in his eyes. She wasn’t the only one thinking about Sterling.

Danny watched them with a curious expression; his frosting-covered hands froze in midair as his mother kissed the tall man.

She knelt beside Danny. “I want you to meet someone very special, sweetie. This is Jim.” She opened her mouth to say more, but there were no words that would help him understand something she could barely comprehend.

“Hello, Danny.” Jim’s bass voice echoed in the silence.

Danny watched him and then shook his head. “Stir,” Danny said. Evelyn felt the heat pulsing in her cheeks, and she focused on the swirling pattern of the carpet, trying to think of what to say.

Harold cleared his throat and Marie patted Danny’s head. “Yes, you’ve stirred the cake up quite a bit.” She gave a forced laugh and smiled at Jim. “Can you believe what a mess he made of this darling cake while someone was at the door?”

“He’s definitely my son. I never could resist Evelyn’s cooking, either.” Jim crouched beside Danny and held out a hand. “I’m happy to meet you, young man. How old are you today?”

Danny studied Jim and then raised one cake encrusted finger. Evelyn laughed. “We’re still working on two fingers, aren’t we Danny?” She lifted the little boy’s other finger.

Jim chuckled. “I can’t believe of all the days I’ve missed I was able to get here on his birthday.” He held his hands out to Danny. “Can I give you a birthday hug?”

Danny furrowed his brow. “Stir. Cake.” He looked at Evelyn. “Stir.”

“What is he trying to say?” Jim asked.

Evelyn licked her lips and looked to her mother for help.

Danny looked at Jim and then back at Evelyn. “Sterling,” he said in a loud voice.

“Oh, dear,” Marie whispered.

Evelyn frowned and turned to Jim, she knew her cheeks were crimson as the heat from her heart raced through her body. She followed Jim’s eyes to her ring finger. The gold band was missing with no pale line against the skin to mark the place.

“Jim, let’s have this birthday party and then Marie and I will play with the birthday boy.” Harold nodded toward Evelyn. “Give you two a chance to talk.”

“Yes, let’s relight those candles,” Marie said. “Danny, do you want to blow out the candles again?”

Danny stared at Jim for another moment until the light of the flickering candles drew his attention. Everyone clapped and cheered as he sputtered and blew out the two candles again.

“I can’t believe you’re really here.” Evelyn reached for Jim’s hand and held his fingers tightly to assure herself they were flesh and blood and not some apparition before her.

Jim squeezed her hand and nodded. Evelyn could see the questions in his eyes and her insides burned with anguish over how she could attempt to explain Sterling. She swallowed hard against the rising panic of how Sterling would react when he found out Jim was alive, here, home. What would it do to him?

Evelyn noticed a pink scar that ran down the side of Jim’s head. Her heart ached as she imagined what must have caused the scar, knowing how Sterling was affected by the scars he bore. She studied Jim, wondering what other scars he carried, if he was the same man who’d left. The man who first held her heart.

Shaking her head, she refocused on the celebration for Danny. He kept glancing at her and then Jim, a curious expression on his face. When Harold and Marie gave him a toy tractor, he squealed with delight and immediately got down on the floor, pushing it with accompanying motor noises from his mouth.

Jim coughed and Evelyn noticed him wiping his eyes. She caught her mother’s eye and Marie nodded.

“Why don’t you two go upstairs to Evelyn’s room?”

“It’s okay,” Jim said. “I don’t want to cut the party short.”

Harold crossed the room and clapped Jim on the back. “A lot can happen in two and a half years,” he said. “Especially if you’re dead. Let her talk.”

Glancing at the clock, Evelyn felt a new sense of dread overcome her. Sterling had promised to try to be there for supper at six. That was only two hours away. She didn’t want him to come, but Evelyn knew she would have to be the one to tell him the news.