by Zondervan
“Where is Irene? She’s more than two hours late.”
I let the curtain drop back into place and leaned against the wall, chewing down a freshly filed nail.
Charlie smiled and poked at a streamer. “She’ll be here in no time.” Russell wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and she handed him Baby Alcyone. Charlie nestled under his arm and gave him a quick kiss. “Thanks,” she murmured.
The telephone rang. Beatrice jumped up, chewing her lip. “Hello?” She lowered her voice. “Oh, I see.”
Charlie was suddenly by my side, resting her chin on my shoulder. “Isn’t it nice?” she whispered, wrapping an arm around my waist. “To care?”
I leaned into her shoulder and smiled, blinking back the tears behind my eyelids. “Yeah.”
A new song drifted through the gramophone, the gentle voice singing, “When we’re out together dancing cheek to cheek …” I grimaced and tried to block the music from my ears. The song brought my wave of happy feelings to a sudden crash. Sam. Sam, Sam, Sam. The name echoed through my mind, torturing my thoughts.
Beatrice placed the telephone back on the retriever. “Well, it is getting late,” she said, glancing at the clock. “Who knows, Allie. Maybe she’ll be here by the time you get back!”
I wrinkled my nose. “Get back from where?”
Beatrice scratched her cheek. “You know what I always say on a night like this?”
I shot her a teasing look. “What do you always say?”
Beatrice reached over and patted my knee. “A midnight stroll breaks a lonely lull.”
“What? That makes no sense at all.”
Charlie shrugged. “You always walk when you’re preoccupied—and don’t deny it, it’s written on your face plain as day. So why not walk now?”
I sighed and scooted out of the armchair. “Well, since everyone seems to want me to leave so badly …” I looked around. “Does anyone wish to accompany me?”
They glanced at each other and frowned. “No,” Beatrice said. “But we’ll be here when you get back.”
I reached for a navy-blue sweater by the door, sliding it over my bare shoulders. “You promise you’ll call me the moment she gets here? We can’t start eating the cake without her. Irene really wanted to be a part of Baby Alcyone’s birth celebration.”
Beatrice nodded.
“Okay, then.” I trudged out the door, wrapping my sweater close. “I hope you’re happy!” I called over my shoulder. The screen door closed with a slam. They are happy for me. Because of me. I placed my hand over my mouth. A soft smile spread behind my fingertips.
I stood by the oceanfront, bare feet in the sand, water lapping my toes, and closed my eyes. I swung my shoes from my fingers and tried to remember the moment. To remember the warm April breeze on my face … my toes in the sand.
But all I wanted in that moment was for Sam to be back. I just wanted this war to be over, and to be married. To have Sam be here again, and have his love wrap me up all safe and warm. I didn’t want to stand at his funeral. I didn’t want my heart to get buried in the ground and feel like I was losing a part of myself all over again.
The stars were just beginning to come out from hiding, the moon starting to softly shine.
I strained my mind to recall the Emily Dickinson poem from my childhood. In a clear voice, I recited to the waves, “The moon is distant from the sea, and yet with amber hands, she leads him, docile as a boy, along appointed sands.”
I closed my eyes again and sent up a silent prayer. Oh, God, I wish that …
“Emily Dickinson,” a voice said from behind me. “Impressive.”
My body jolted. I whirled around, a shriek escaping my lips.
A tall man stood on top of a sand dune, looking down at me. He took a step toward me, his arms open. I squealed, my mind racing, and did the first thing that came to mind — throw my shoes at him.
He laughed and ducked. “Hey, watch it. Do you think I want to die?”
“Sam?” My eyes widened. There he was, standing in front of me. Right there on the beach. In front of me. Standing there.
My mind went over these stupid thoughts at least three times before I opened my mouth, ready to say my first words to him in two years. Instead, all that came out was a sob.
I collapsed in the sand, crying uncontrollably. Within seconds, Sam was on his knees at my side, wrapping his arms around me. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Allie, what is it?”
I shook my head, unable to look him in the eye. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling. It can’t be true. I thought … “I thought you were dead,” I choked out. “Well, I mean, I didn’t believe you were dead but I knew you might be. And after ten months …”
Sam stopped trying to talk and held me, rocking back and forth. He could probably imagine what it had felt like.
After awhile, the tears slowed down, and I pulled my head back to look at Sam. His face was the same; a little older maybe, but still the same Sam Carroll. The one who followed me around as a child. Who followed me to Maine as a teenager. He’d sat on my kitchen counter twice and told me that he loved me, and almost cried when I said I loved him too.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” I finally whispered. “I’ve missed you so much.”
Sam scooted back a little, but still held my hand tightly. He smiled, his face glowing in the moonlight. “I called Beatrice and asked her to send you out here. I arrived home a few minutes ago.” He grimaced. “My train was a little late.”
My heart was racing, my mind whirling. I climbed to my feet, pulling him up with me. “Well, at least let me look at you. I haven’t looked at you in two years.”
He stood to his full height and took a step back from me, squeezing my fingers a little. I could tell he was nervous. What would I think of the fully grown Sam Carroll?
To tell the truth, I was a little overwhelmed. He was several inches taller, now towering a full head above mine. His hair was a little longer, and his face a bit more worn. He looked like someone who had fought in battles and seen men die, who’d traveled the world and grown up while I sat here and waited for him. I covered my mouth and blurted out the first thought that popped into my dizzy head. “You’re a man.”
Sam laughed —a surprised snort. “Is that all you can think of?”
“I was afraid …” I whispered, covering my mouth again. “I’m just so glad you’re home.”
Sam stepped forward and brushed a hair off my cheek. “I was going to go back to Tennessee. I was going to see my mother and my family and everything but …” He smiled. “I telephoned Beatrice and asked to see you privately. I wanted it to be a surprise, so I could see the look on your face. I love it when you’re surprised.”
“So the others don’t know about it?” They’re probably worried. They’re probably …
Sam chuckled. “No, I’m sure Beatrice told them. I wrote her about a week ago, letting her know I was coming home.”
“Oh.” I felt so lightheaded and silly.
A gold star glistened on his uniform. I gasped and reached out to touch it. “How did you get this?”
Sam tightened his grip on my arms, smiling down at me. “You look beautiful, Allie. You look happy.” He shook his head and chuckled. “You wouldn’t believe how much joy your last letter gave me. I read it the day before … the day before Normandy. Knowing that you loved me gave me the strength to be brave … to prove myself worthy of you.”
“What happened? I mean, you stopped writing me for ten months. People said you were probably dead.”
Sam licked his lips. “I was caught in battle. I was shot in the ankle.” He lifted his pants leg so I could see the wound, but it was dark and I could only make out faint bruising. “It wasn’t a fatality, but I was left on the field for hours, stranded while everyone else left. I thought I would die. I remember thinking I might never see you again.”
He fingered my cheek. I closed my eyes at his touch, my salty tears staining his hand.
“I
wasn’t captured, though. After about five hours, I dragged myself off the battlefield and found a tree to hide under. I was there for two days and a night, until some French nuns found me. I was driven into the city and cared for in a French hotel for about four months. A few surgeries in my leg and ankle, and then waiting for the skin to heal.”
He let go of me just long enough to hold up his star so I could see it. “I got this seven months after Normandy, when I finally got back to the army. But I didn’t deserve the medal. There were plenty of fallen soldiers that day who were more heroic than anything I’ve ever seen. Men who deserved twenty of these stars.” He fingered the medal. “I guess the only reason I wear it is because the stars make me think of you.”
“I always knew you were brave. Even before you joined the war. But now I’m proud of you. I think I’m prouder of you than of anything.” I had to tilt back my head to see his face.
Sam reached out and touched my dark waves. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered.
“I’ve missed you too.” I lifted a hand and wiped a tear from my eye, laughing at myself. “I keep crying!” I rolled my eyes. “So much for hating sentimentality.”
Sam smiled. “Good.”
I gripped Sam’s coat sleeve, my head all light and bubbly. “I was wrong about so many things.” I laughed. “Especially God. But I’m better now.”
Sam smiled. “I’m glad.” He looked so happy and content— standing on the beach a celebrated war hero — and yet standing on the beach with me.
Sam’s gaze turned tender. “Allie …” His voice lowered. “Do you think you could find it in your heart to marry me?”
I tilted my head back so I could see his whole face. “I think I could. I think I can fit a rather large amount of things in my heart, actually. It seems to increase every day now.”
Sam squeezed my arm and leaned his forehead against mine.
“Allie!” I heard Beatrice shouting from the porch. “Allie, did you find your little surprise? Come and share it!”
I grinned and jumped back, picking up my shoes. I reached out and grabbed Sam’s hand. “Come on. Mom wants me at home.”
Sam picked up his suitcases and let out an excited laugh. I could see his twinkling eyes in the moonlight. “I suppose you have an awful lot to write in your little notebook.”
I smiled. “Yes, I suppose I do.”
About the Author
Rachel Coker is a homeschool student who lives in Virginia with her parents and two sisters. She has a passion for great books and has been surrounded by them all her life. In fact, as a young child, Rachel helped her parents in a family-run Christian book business. Her gift for writing became apparent at the age of eleven, at which time her parents signed her up for a year of lessons with a professional writing coach. When she is not writing or playing the piano, Rachel enjoys spending time with her family and friends.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
ZONDERVAN
Interrupted
Copyright © 2012 by Rachel Coker
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Zondervan.
EPub Edition © FEBRUARY 2012 ISBN: 978-0-310-72811-5
Requests for information should be addressed to:
Zondervan, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49530
All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
Any Internet addresses (websites, blogs, etc.) and telephone numbers in this book are offered as a resource. They are not intended in any way to be or imply an endorsement by Zondervan, nor does Zondervan vouch for the content of these sites and numbers for the life of this book.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means — electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other — except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.
Cover design: Gayle Raymer
Cover photography: Synergy Photographic
Interior design: Greg Johnson, Textbook Perfect
About the Publisher
Founded in 1931, Grand Rapids, Michigan-based Zondervan, a division of HarperCollinsPublishers, is the leading international Christian communications company, producing best-selling Bibles, books, new media products, a growing line of gift products and award-winning children’s products. The world’s largest Bible publisher, Zondervan (www.zondervan.com) holds exclusive publishing rights to the New International Version of the Bible and has distributed more than 150 million copies worldwide. It is also one of the top Christian publishers in the world, selling its award-winning books through Christian retailers, general market bookstores, mass merchandisers, specialty retailers, and the Internet. Zondervan has received a total of 68 Gold Medallion awards for its books, more than any other publisher.
Share Your Thoughts
With the Author: Your comments will be forwarded to the author when you send them to [email protected].
With Zondervan: Submit your review of this book by writing to [email protected].
Free Online Resources at
www.zondervan.com/hello
Zondervan AuthorTracker: Be notified whenever your favorite authors publish new books, go on tour, or post an update about what’s happening in their lives.
Daily Bible Verses and Devotions: Enrich your life with daily Bible verses or devotions that help you start every morning focused on God.
Free Email Publications: Sign up for newsletters on fiction, Christian living, church ministry, parenting, and more.
Zondervan Bible Search: Find and compare Bible passages in a variety of translations at www.zondervanbiblesearch.com.
Other Benefits: Register yourself to receive online benefits like coupons and special offers, or to participate in research.