The Soldier's Bride

by Christensen, Rachelle J.

  He wore flannel pajama pants and a plain white cotton T-shirt stretched tight over his chest. Jim’s physique showed he had lost some weight, but the muscles in his arms attested to the airman strength he’d been careful to keep.

  The door clicked shut behind him, and she felt his energy bouncing around the room. Jim smiled, and she didn’t attempt to hide how she stared at him.

  He switched off the light. Evelyn felt another nervous tremor pass through her. She took a deep breath and climbed into bed. The springs squeaked when Jim settled onto the mattress.

  “Thank you—for letting me be near you,” he said.

  She reminded herself of Jim’s gentle nature and defied her instinct to run. “Thank you for being you.”

  “Good night, Evelyn. I love you,” Jim said.

  “I love you, too.” She curled up and faced the wall, the same way she did every night, but sleep wouldn’t come while she felt the heat from Jim’s body so close to her own.

  “Are you cold?” He put his hand on her arm

  “A little.”

  He started to move his hand around her waist to pull her closer, the same way he used to. Then he stopped. Before he could withdraw completely, she touched his fingers, pulled his hand across her middle, and snuggled closer to him. They didn’t speak, but eventually the tenseness between them dissolved.

  His body felt so warm and comforting, and for a moment good memories of her husband overtook her fear. His lips moistened the back of her neck and tickled her earlobe. She giggled and he nuzzled the side of her face.

  “Just like old times,” he whispered.

  With a smile, Evelyn turned and snuggled closer to her husband. She knew her action took him by surprise by the momentary hesitation she felt before he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.

  Memories of their first few months together flooded her mind, and Evelyn allowed them to cover thoughts of Sterling. She forced herself to live in this moment with Jim and not cheat him out of any more happiness.

  She kissed his neck and he shifted his face closer to hers, his eyes bright with desire. He covered her mouth with his, and Evelyn felt the stubble of his cheek press against hers. Each kiss lasted longer than the one before. She felt the passion in Jim’s embrace but noticed that he was careful not to appear as urgent as when he had kissed her in this same room a week before.

  Holding her close, he kissed her until a tingling of desire ran through her. He pressed his body against hers and then jerked back. “I’m sorry.” He groaned and rolled onto his back.

  With her heart racing, she turned on her side and placed a hand on his cheek. “I’m okay.”

  He glanced at her. “Are you sure? I—I didn’t want to get carried away.”

  Evelyn nodded and moved closer to him. She kissed his cheek, nibbled on his ear, and laughed at Jim’s sharp intake of breath. His mouth moved over her neck and down past her collarbone. He hesitated near the neckline of her nightgown and Evelyn shifted, pulling the soft material over her head. Jim held very still, his eyes questioning hers and Evelyn felt a surge of love toward her husband. She leaned closer to him until their bodies were touching.

  “I love you, Jim.”

  “Evelyn, I love you so much it hurts,” Jim whispered.

  She kissed him again, holding him tight and reveling in the closeness she had missed for so long. The night beat out a rhythm all its own as their bodies became one. As Evelyn’s desire for her husband rose, she found she was no longer afraid. She clung to him in the darkness and felt his love filling up the weak places in her heart.

  ~*~

  Gentle hands caressed her face, bringing her awareness to the dawn. Evelyn opened her eyes and saw the light casting shadows across the chilly room, and then she turned her head and saw Jim. He was propped up on one elbow, his arm covering her as he trailed his fingers through her hair.

  “I used to watch you sleep before. I could always tell how things were here . . .” He placed his hand over her heart. “By those last moments of sleep before you opened your eyes.”

  She opened her arms to him, pulling his head down for a kiss. Jim made love to her again as he had the night before—every moment so tender and passionate that Evelyn felt as if they’d never been apart.

  Afterward, she rested her head on his chest, tracing her fingers along the muscles in his arms.

  “Thank you for being my wife,” Jim said.

  She smiled at him, understanding all that he was saying. “Always.”

  “Are you okay?” he studied her.

  “Better than okay.” She nuzzled his neck and sighed. “Tell me about when you remembered me.”

  Jim kissed her brow and smoothed the hair away from her face. “It was at the hospital in Minneapolis. Lots of children there getting therapy sponsored by that new program, the March of Dimes.”

  “Mmm, Roosevelt’s program. I heard about it—saving our dimes,” she said.

  “There was a little Japanese girl there recovering from polio. She had a music box. The first time I heard it, I felt like I had just awakened. All of these images flashed through my mind. I saw a beautiful young lady with wavy hair. It was reddish-brown, but darker brown like the color of her eyes.”

  He picked up a strand of her hair and grinned. “I knew I had a connection to her—to you. When I heard the music I knew I had to hurry because someone was waiting for me.”

  Evelyn traced a finger along Jim’s chest. He covered her hand with his. “The nurses wound the music box for that little girl all the time, and she loved listening to it. I talked to her. Emika was her name. One of her legs was partially paralyzed from the polio, and she had to do a lot of therapy for it. She was only six. I noticed how she would close her eyes and listen, so one day I told her something I learned in the war: Listen close enough and you can change the world.”

  “That’s beautiful, Jim.”

  “Listening changed my world. It brought me back to you.” He brushed a kiss across her lips. “I knew the tune sounded familiar, but it wasn’t until I came back that I remembered where I had heard it before.”

  “Do you think it could be the same music box?”

  “That would be impossible. I’m sure there were dozens made like it.” Jim looked up at the ceiling. “You know, I remember the man that sold the music box to me. He told me at the time that it was special—too special for one person to keep forever.”

  “I remember,” Evelyn said. “In your note, you said that there was a secret I’d find only by passing it on.”

  “Yes, that was it,” Jim said. “He made me promise I’d remember the secret.”

  “What was the secret?”

  “Love. The more you give away, the stronger it becomes. At the time I didn’t really understand what he meant, but now I do.” Jim kissed Evelyn gently.

  “I wonder if we could find another one like it.” She twisted the wedding band around her finger, watching the light glint off the gold.

  “Well, I bought it when I was on the base in Colorado Springs, but it wouldn’t hurt to look around Aspen Falls and Callaway Grove.”

  Evelyn smiled and her eyes sparkled. “I’d like that.” She kissed Jim. “It’s like a story out of a book. You coming back to me through a song, and me here singing that same song all the time to our son.”

  As if on cue, they heard Danny shaking his crib in the next room. “No more nigh-night,” he called.

  Evelyn and Jim laughed. They dressed and hurried to their son’s room together.

  Chapter 34 ~ Changes

  December 1945 ~ Evelyn

  They looked in all the department stores for a music box like the one Jim had bought. There were many of similar construction, but none held the same lilting tune or the tiny ballerina.

  “It’s okay. I know the tune by heart.” Evelyn hummed and squeezed Jim’s hand.

  “I would say I’m sorry I told you to let it go, but I think that man was right. There’s something special about that music box—
something made more special by you giving it away.”

  “I think you’re right,” she said.

  That night as she lay in Jim’s arms, she sang the full version of the song and he hummed along, his bass voice rumbling in his chest. Each night she felt a little more at ease, and each morning she awoke to Jim watching her with love in his eyes.

  But when she stretched and opened her eyes a few days before Christmas, Jim’s face held a different expression.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked when she noticed his guarded look.

  “You said his name last night—you called for him.”

  Evelyn brought her hands to her cheeks to cover the dark pink spots she knew had appeared, for she had dreamed of Sterling last night.

  Jim moved a finger over the edge of the sheet, a snag on his nail made a scratching noise as he pulled it back and forth. “I know you can’t control your dreams, but it got me to wondering. How much are you still thinking about him?”

  All of a sudden she remembered his scent, the smell of Sterling fresh from his garage. He was always clean, but the musky scent of motor oil with a splash of aftershave tagged along.

  “I still think of him.” Her eyes filled with tears. She watched Jim’s face and searched for strength within. She sat up in bed. “You have my whole heart minus one corner where I’ll keep the memories I have of Sterling.” She covered her heart with a hand and then held her hand toward Jim. “You can’t expect me to act as if he never lived. I won’t see him anymore, but it doesn’t mean I never loved him.”

  Jim shook his head. “Now there’s the Evelyn I knew, the one with a bit of fire inside.”

  She lowered her eyes and waited for him to say more. He leaned against the headboard and draped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her to his side.

  “That’s fair,” he said.

  Evelyn lifted her face to his and studied his eyes. “You’re not mad?”

  “I didn’t say I like it, but I think I understand. As long as you’re not thinking of changing your mind.”

  “No. I made my choice and I choose you every day from here on out.”

  “Then that’s all that matters.” He kissed her and hopped out of bed. “I’m going to meet with the bank manager in Callaway Grove this morning. I’d better get a move on.”

  “I’ll get breakfast started.”

  As the sausage sizzled in the pan, Evelyn thought about her dreams of Sterling and about what Jim had said. He was being more than fair with her and incredibly patient, and she was grateful for him.

  She still thought of Sterling every day, but each time she did, she tucked the thought into a far corner of her heart. It was a corner full of love for the man who needed saving, loved her, and had saved her in return.

  Evelyn didn’t mention Sterling anymore to Jim and there was an unspoken understanding between them now. Jim knew that part of her would always care for Sterling but was content because she wore his ring and would hopefully bear more of his children someday.

  Danny was down for his afternoon nap when Jim returned from Callaway Grove that evening bursting with excitement.

  “The bank manager told me about a job opening in Colorado Springs.” He slung his coat over the couch and lifted her into a tight embrace. “He even called and talked to the manager there and put in a good word for me. Evelyn, if this works out, we’ll return to our first home together.”

  “That’s wonderful, Jim,” Marie said. She stood in the hallway and Harold came up behind her. “Colorado Springs, eh?”

  “I hope you’ll be okay with me taking your daughter away again.” He touched her cheek. “Will you be okay with that? I mean, it’s not a for-sure thing, but it’s looking pretty good.”

  “It’ll be harder this time to leave than when I was a new bride, but it sounds like a great opportunity.”

  Jim clapped his hands. “I’ve been idle for too long. It’s time for me to contribute to society again.” He grinned when everyone laughed.

  Harold slapped him on the back. “I’ll miss your idle company around this place. Marie has been beside herself since you went and completed every honey-do she could come up with.”

  Jim laughed. “They want me to come up for an interview first thing in the morning. I’ll catch the early bus.”

  “I’ll loan you my car. Looks like you’ll be in the market for an automobile,” Harold said.

  “Actually I’ve already got something picked out—over a week ago now,” Jim said. “I just needed a stable job behind me to add to my war funds.”

  As they chatted about possibilities for the new road ahead, Evelyn’s thoughts wandered. She knew there were more reasons than one that Jim was excited about moving to Colorado Springs. The main reason had green eyes and black hair that curled right above his brow line.

  And just like that, they were moving. The day after Christmas, Jim whooped and hollered after he got off the phone with the branch in Colorado Springs. His new position as loan officer was set to start as soon as they could make the move.

  Marie cried when Evelyn began packing up Danny’s things, and Evelyn did her best to hide the trepidation she felt at leaving the security of her parent’s home after all they’d done for her over the past three years.

  In two weeks they were gone. At first she thought about sending Sterling a letter, but her heart clenched in pain as she considered what she could possibly say. Nothing could undo the hurt she had caused him, and because he had set her free, Evelyn believed it would be easier for both of them if she set him free as well.

  Time passed and they settled into their new home. Evelyn felt comfortable in Jim’s arms and soon the joy of her growing family overshadowed the dull ache in her heart. When they traveled to Aspen Falls to visit her parents, they steered clear of the side of town where the Silver Lining and Sterling’s home were located. She didn’t see him again for many years.

  Chapter 35 ~ The Dancer

  1969 ~ Emika

  Emika opened the side compartment of the music box and clasped the tin March of Dimes pin she had worn proudly in her youth. Although it had been nearly twenty-five years, Emika still remembered the stark reality of the therapy she underwent to regain most of her muscle use. At times it had felt like torture to watch the other children run, jump, and dance with ease. Her legs and her confidence were so weak that she didn’t dare do more than walk cautiously, looking for cracks in the sidewalk that might trip up her disobedient legs.

  But she had never grown tired of listening to the music box, and when she learned to read, Leland’s message became as important as the music itself. Even now, if she closed her eyes, she could see the thick black strokes of his carpenter’s pencil and read the words without even looking at the paper pasted into the music box, “Live to dance again.”

  Emika opened another compartment of the music box and pulled out a crumpled ribbon. Second place in the ballroom dance competition. She had overcome her fears and danced for everyone to see. She eventually danced right into the arms of the man who was now her husband, Tony, and they settled down close to her parents.

  When Daiki was born, she felt that she might never stop dancing, cradling her beautiful dark-haired baby boy, and feeling the joy swelling in her chest. She remembered humming the tune of the music box to him. Even as an infant, Daiki had loved music and responded to all new sounds with smiles and gurgles.

  He was nearly four months old when they discovered his blindness. His eyes were so dark and beautiful that it was difficult to understand why he couldn’t see. But Daiki responded to human voice and music. When he cried Emika would wind her music box for him over and over because the tone soothed him.

  She remembered the soldier from the hospital. She didn’t need to unfold the origami peace crane fashioned from bright green paper to read the words her mother had written to help her remember. The same words the soldier had told her before he left. “There’s something I learned in the war from the people who helped me.” He had spoken just ab
ove a whisper, but his deep voice rumbled. “Listen close enough and you can change the world.”

  Emika had always been a good listener. Because Daiki couldn’t see, Emika whispered the message to him as she rocked him. “Listen close enough, Daiki, and you can change the world.”

  When Daiki turned three, he stumbled onto the piano and began playing notes and laughing. When he was five, he composed his first melody and it sounded vaguely similar to the tune from the music box.

  By the time he was seven, Emika recognized he had a talent. She took him to a conservatory and enrolled him in lessons. Now her beautiful baby was a handsome eight-year-old boy preparing for his first concert. On Saturday, he would perform three original compositions as well as pieces from Bach, Liszt, and Beethoven. He hoped to change the world with his music.

  Emika replaced the ribbon and the March of Dimes pin in the drawer. She turned the brass crank and listened to the familiar melody float from the chambers of the music box. The ballerina still danced as gracefully as she had in Emika’s youth, although the tulle looked a bit faded and worn, and the paint on her bodice wasn’t the vibrant pink of years ago, having dulled to a warm coral hue.

  The music box had collected quite a bit of dust, and Emika wiped off the indications of neglect wondering how life could be so busy. Daiki hadn’t listened to the music box for some time, but that was because his fingers constantly caressed the ivory keys of the piano, making music of all varieties.

  She hadn’t told Daiki about her fight with polio yet, wanting to wait until he was old enough to understand. Emika knew it was important because he would still face many difficulties and obstacles as a blind person. She wanted him to know he had inherited her tenacity and strength.

  His ability to create magic with the piano would serve him well, but Emika knew there were times her little boy wished to be an active participant in the games he heard children playing. Emika knew exactly how he felt. It was time to tell him, to let him know that she understood his fears and sadness, those emotions he hid so adeptly in the music he composed.