Hearts Rekindled

by Patty Smith Hall

  “Sarah’s a fine name, but I thought you always wanted to name your own girls after your grandmothers.” Maybe one day, if he could convince Merrilee that they belonged together, they could have a baby sister for Claire. Or a little brother.

  “If you haven’t noticed, I’m going to have a teenager on my hands in the next couple years.” She glanced down at the baby, who had awakened and was studying them both in wide-eyed wonder. “No, I think Sarah suits her, don’t you?”

  “Sure,” John answered reluctantly. Had Merrilee given up all her girlish dreams of owning a farm and raising a small army of kids with a man who loved her to distraction? He’d known he was that man even before she told him her dreams, but when he’d gone away from her the first time, he’d let the manipulations of others keep him away from the only home he’d ever known. From the only woman he loved.

  Not this time.

  He frowned. How could he court Merrilee with his hearing coming up? With the possibility of a jail sentence hanging over his head? But if he waited, he risked losing her. With the war over and the soldiers coming home, anxious to start their lives, many a man would take note of Merrilee’s beauty and sweetness, of her steadfast faith, of that determination that ran like a rod of steel up her delicate spine. He’d be a fool not to declare himself.

  And selfish if he did. No, he had to wait until he knew the outcome of the proceedings, until he knew with a certainty that he could come back to Marietta for good and claim Merrilee as his wife. Lord, I only want Merrilee to be happy, and if that means letting her go, give me the strength to do it.

  But first, just one more memory. That was all he needed to carry him through the lonely years stretched out before him. John leaned forward, noting the hitch in Merrilee’s breath, the pleasant flush that rose in her cheeks. Her irises turned into a smoky emerald, her eyelids falling slowly until the light reddish-gold lashes rested against the creamy crest of her cheeks. Her lips opened slightly, and John covered them with his own, ready to make a memory that might have to last his lifetime.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Any thoughts of names or anything else flew out of Merrilee’s head the moment John lowered his lips to hers. He’d come to some decision, though what he’d decided she wasn’t sure, only that there had been a shift in him, a heaviness that made the blue in his eyes darken, the flecks of newly polished silver that circled his irises dull into something akin to pain.

  Without thinking, she lifted her hands to his face, tilted his head slightly to one side and pressed her lips fully against his. How dearly she loved this man, not with the mad giddiness of the girl she had once been but with a steadiness, a certainty that abided deep in the very heart of her being.

  One hand crept around the back of his neck, her fingers brushed through his close-cut hair, holding him close.

  A high-pitched mew tore through the space between them.

  John broke off the kiss, resting his forehead against hers, his chest lifting in ragged sighs that matched her own. She didn’t trust her voice so she waited, hoping he would break the silence.

  “I forgot about the baby.”

  The slight catch, the rough vulnerability in his voice made her heart ache. She couldn’t let him think he was alone in these feelings. “Me, too.”

  She lifted her gaze to his and found blue eyes blazing into hers and for the briefest of moments, she wondered if he would kiss her again. But then he straightened, his mouth flattened into a serious line, a tiny furrow buried between his blond brows as he handed the baby back to her and stood. “We’d better get that formula made before Sarah really pitches a fit.”

  Merrilee offered the baby her clean knuckle to suckle as she watched John return to the pantry. Why was he backing away from her? She wanted to ask him, but the infant in her arms refused to be ignored anymore. “I think that fit is going to be here sooner rather than later. What are we going to do if Aurora doesn’t have the canned milk and sugar for the formula?”

  “Don’t worry. Pastor Williams knows what Aurora needs to keep on hand and encourages his members to donate a little each month.” He grabbed several cans of evaporated milk and a bottle of Karo syrup and put them on the countertop before grabbing a pot and pumping water into it to boil on the stove. The efficiency with which he moved, the confidence as he measured out the ingredients caused a shiver of suspicion that had served her well in her “occupation,” but did nothing to calm her growing concern. “Did Aurora teach you how to mix formula?”

  John’s movements stilled, and he turned toward her, his eyes again dulled in the pain and conflict she’d witnessed in the fleeting seconds before he’d kissed her. A sense of foreboding slid through her, chilling her to the core. John didn’t seem to think she was going to like his answer. It couldn’t be as bad as all that, could it?

  He leaned back against the counter, his fingers gripping the edges, his knuckles glowing white. “I had a friend I worked with in construction out in San Francisco by the name of Peter Oahu.”

  Japanese? Maybe, with a name like that, but the name wasn’t the word she’d really noticed. “Had?”

  “He joined the 442nd and was killed over in Italy last summer.”

  “I’m so sorry, John.” Friends had never come easily to John, despite his kind and generous nature. Was it because he’d believed his father’s lies that he, by association with Mattie’s disabilities, was too damaged, too flawed to deserve friendship? Love?

  “Anyway, Peter asked me to keep an eye on his children and wife. She was expecting, and they had relocated inland to an internment camp in Manzanar.”

  Merrilee had seen the newsreels at the movies, the black-and-white pictures of neat little plywood houses that had been hurriedly erected for Japanese Americans after Pearl Harbor. It had bothered her at the time, the thought of American citizens being held against their will. It smacked too close to the rumors coming out of Germany. “Death camps” the reporter on the radio had called them, with hundreds, possibly thousands killed.

  How had John’s friend fared there, locked away from home? “What happened?”

  “I got a call a few days before I was supposed to ship out. The news of Peter’s death had come, and it had caused Grace to go into labor early. No one could get a doctor to see her. By the time I hunted down and dragged her sorry doctor to the camp, she was almost dead, and the baby had been born. Peter’s boy was small.” The corners of John’s mouth lifted in a tender smile. “But he was a stubborn little thing, bound and determined to live.”

  Tears clogged Merrilee’s throat. John had done that for his friend? He’d looked past the color of Peter’s skin, past the vile hate that spewed on both sides of the ocean and saw what really mattered: saving his friend’s son, keeping his word. The words of the song Merrilee had sung with Claire took on new meaning. “Red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in His sight, Jesus loves the little children of the world!” Words to her, yet John had lived them in his kindness to his friend. “So that’s how you learned how to mix baby formula?”

  He blinked as if he’d expected a different reaction from her. “You’re not mad?”

  “Why? Because you did right by your friend and saved his son’s life? To my way of thinking, you deserve a medal,” she answered, gently bouncing the baby. She didn’t have any gold or silver pins, only her heart as a token.

  And the truth about her undercover work. She owed him that, only she wasn’t free to tell him. There were personnel channels she’d have to go through, starting with filing her resignation with Major Evans. But that shouldn’t be a problem, not with the war in Europe won.

  Until then, she had to keep quiet, and pray that John could forgive her for keeping the truth from him.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Merrilee sank back into the leather chair, the hum of the bomber’s assembly line on the
other side of Major Evans’s office lulling her—the staccato whirl of the riveters, the low murmur of the blowtorches working together to make this country safe for the next generation. For Claire, Billy and Ellie. For Gail and the twins. For Maggie’s unborn child.

  For her future with John.

  She tilted her head to one side. When had that dream been resurrected? The moment in the kitchen when she’d learned the depths of John’s goodness? Maybe that first day when he’d showed up on her doorstep, demanding to meet his daughter? Or had it only laid dormant all the years, waiting for him to make his way back to Marietta, back home to her?

  What could be taking Major Evans so long? Merrilee glanced around the room, her gaze settling on the round, bold-faced clock hanging over the door. The man had kept her waiting for almost an hour. Well, she’d wait forever if it gave her the freedom to leave her spying behind and finally level with John. She patted her clutch bag, the resignation letter she’d written tucked neatly inside. If she had her way, she’d never have to grace these halls again after this afternoon.

  The door behind her clicked open, and she stiffened to attention.

  “Relax. It’s just me.” Edie Michaels Daniels’s familiar voice washed over her as she closed the door. “Major Evans told me you were here so I thought I’d come and sit with you for a moment.”

  Merrilee turned to the young woman as she sat down in the chair next to hers. “Did he give you an idea of how much longer he’d be? I don’t like being away from Aurora’s too long.”

  “Is Aurora all right?” Edie’s perfectly arched brows furrowed in confusion. “She seemed to be doing so much better the last time Beau and I came for a visit.”

  “She’s fine, but you know how she can be sometimes, wanting to get back into the fray of things before she’s ready.”

  “And the kids? How are they doing with all these changes?”

  Merrilee didn’t doubt her nephew and his new bride were concerned about the children. Both had taken a shine to Claire and had helped nurse the children in the black community during the polio outbreak last spring. Edie and Beau would never find a child less than lovable just because of their appearance or abilities. “Well, Ellie and the twins are still too young to understand much, and Gail seems to be handling it all right, but Billy worries enough for all of them. He’s afraid Ms. Aurora is dying and will leave him. John spends some extra time with him in the evenings to help him talk through it. But that routine might have to change because Mack brought us another child yesterday, a newborn baby girl.”

  “Oh, how terrible. Is there anything we can do?”

  Her nephew had chosen the perfect wife for himself, someone who shared his determination to provide medical care to the poor and underserved. Merrilee reached out and pressed her hand over Edie’s. “I called and got her an appointment with Dr. Tripp. He’s a doctor over at Henrietta Egleston Hospital that Ms. Aurora suggested.”

  “I’ve heard Beau talk about him. He’s supposed to be very good.”

  Knowing her nephew thought highly of the man soothed any lingering nerves Merrilee had. “How is Beau?”

  “Wonderful.” The younger woman’s smile bubbled over with sheer joy. “In fact, he was heading out to Ms. Aurora’s to see John today.”

  “Really? John didn’t mention it.”

  “That’s because my husband has a habit of just dropping in on people.” Edie shook her head disapprovingly but with a smile that revealed the deep abiding love she had for her new husband. “He was in town yesterday, talking over plans for the new hospital when Edith Watson ran over from the post office with a package for him to deliver to John. Beau said it was that box of letters we found out at his father’s place last year.”

  A peace she couldn’t have conceived of a month ago settled over Merrilee. She’d laid her heart bare in those missives, had spoken of all the hopes she had for her and John, for them and their unborn baby. Maybe one day soon they could read them together, reminisce without the pain of those long years apart, rejoice in the love they’d rediscovered.

  That is if Major Evans would get in here so she could hand in her resignation!

  “May I ask you a personal question?”

  Merrilee looked over at Edie, surprised by the confusion clouding her expression. “You can ask me anything,” Merrilee answered.

  Edie’s gaze shifted away. “Why are you here? I mean, I know you and Major Evans are good friends, and at one time, I thought it might turn into something more, but...” she hesitated “...it’s unusual for nonauthorized personnel to be admitted into the plant.”

  Oh, dear. Merrilee hadn’t thought how odd her appearance would be considered when she’d called and asked for this meeting earlier this morning. Obviously the major hadn’t considered it, either, or he would have diverted her away from the plant. She couldn’t tell Edie her true purpose—tendering her resignation as a home-front informant—at least, not until it had been accepted. But lying to her niece wasn’t an option, either. She scrambled her brain for a viable excuse, then settled on the only reason she still dealt with the man. “The major and I have some business to discuss about getting Claire admitted into Warm Springs.”

  Edie relaxed, scooting back into the chair, her elbows resting on the leather armrest. “That’s nice of him. How is our Claire Bear?”

  Merrilee let go of the breath she’d been holding. How in the world had she ever thought she could be a spy? But not for much longer. “Better. You should see her with John. I think she’s becoming a daddy’s girl.”

  Edie bent her elbow and rested her chin in the palm of her hand, her smile suddenly silly. “You’re in love with him again, aren’t you?”

  There didn’t seem to be any reason not to be completely honest. “I don’t think I ever stopped loving John.”

  “Oh, thank goodness. I thought for a moment when I heard you were here to see Evans—” Edie pressed her lips together and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Maggie was right. She’s been telling me ever since she moved into the house that you still had feelings for John, but I wasn’t so sure.”

  Merrilee didn’t know what to think. Her relatives and friends had been gossiping about her? “You two talked about me?”

  “Only because we were concerned about you.” Edie straightened, dark brows furrowed over worried eyes. “This past year with Claire has been hard on you, and the last thing any of us want is for you to get hurt again.”

  Merrilee opened her mouth to reassure her, then closed it. What promises did she have that John wouldn’t break her heart again? He still planned to leave Marietta, still hadn’t told her why he had to go and when.

  She felt Edie’s slender hand rest against her forearm. “I’m talking out of turn here,” her niece said. “Anyone with eyes in their head can see the man adores you.”

  Merrilee nodded, the muscles in her chest suddenly tight. She’d known with every beat of her heart that John had loved her twelve years ago, and yet he’d taken the first job he could find, one that took him as far away as the east was from the west. How did she know with certainty that when he left this time, he’d keep his promise to return to her and Claire?

  Merrilee thought back to that first day when John had shown up on her front porch, Claire’s letter in his suit pocket. How hard it must have been for him, to have to face the wife he’d thought had abandoned him, a woman who’d run off to her daddy’s house at the first sign of trouble. Yet John had never wavered in his determination to forge a relationship with Claire, never tucked tail and run. She shook her head slightly. John wouldn’t abandon them again, not unless he had no other choice. And then he’d fight with every breath in him, in every way he could, to show his love and get back to them as soon as he could.

  She sucked in a breath. The homestead! It had been John’s love letter to her all those years ago, the only means ava
ilable for him to show her that despite everything that had happened, he loved her. He’d loved her all these years, just as she’d loved him.

  A knock behind them, followed by the door opening, spared Merrilee from any explanations as Major Evans entered the room. “Ladies, so sorry to keep you waiting, but I’m sure you’ve had a nice visit with Mrs. Daniels.”

  “Being called Mrs. Daniels still takes some getting used to.” A slight blush stained Edie’s cheeks as she stood. “I’d better get back to work.” She glanced down at Merrilee. “Dinner at our place soon?”

  “We look forward to it.”

  “Great.” Her niece nodded toward Evans, then turned, the soft swish of her skirts keeping time with the high-pitched clip-clop of her steps.

  When the door clicked shut, Evans pulled out his leather chair and sat down. “Nice girl. Good to know that she’s on our side.”

  Merrilee dug her fingers into the leather sides of her purse. Evans never gave anyone the benefit of the doubt. Must be the nature of his job, this distrust he seemed to have toward everyone. Another reason why she didn’t make a very good spy. “Edie was always on our side. It was her father who was the problem, remember?”

  He didn’t linger on her question for very long, not that she’d expected him to. “So what information have you got for me today?”

  So much for the niceties. “Nothing.”

  Evans blinked as if he wasn’t quite sure he’d heard her correctly. “What do you mean, nothing?”

  “Exactly what I said. Nothing. Aurora is no more supplying the black market around here than you or I am, Major.”

  “Do you have any proof to back up your statement?”

  Opening her purse, Merrilee pulled out a small leather-bound notebook Aurora had given her and handed it to him. “Aurora has kept records of every donation she’s ever received for close to twenty years. She’s also made notes detailing when the war started, how many rations items she used each month along with a list of people who had donated their rationed items to her and the children.”