The Sky Above Us

by Sarah Sundin

  Why did she still care for him? If only she didn’t. Everything would have been a lot easier. “Violet, if it isn’t too much to ask, I need to talk to you.”

  She stilled, her hands hovering over the tray. “All—all right.”

  “Say, Adler?” Nick gestured with his thumb to the front door. “We moved a couch outside, under those trees to the right of the building. So you can have some privacy. A gift from Santa.”

  Adler gaped at him. Not only had Nick set him up, but he’d put a whole lot of work into it.

  He returned his attention to Violet. “Come on. Let’s go outside.”

  “All right.” She headed for the door with her head high, but her gait wobbled.

  Adler scooted past her to open the door, passing his buddies.

  Nick’s grin grew. Theo gave him the thumbs-up. Cam made a kissy face. And Rosie pressed both hands over his heart, batted his eyelashes, and heaved a dramatic sigh.

  “See y’all later. Enjoy your party.” Adler injected the last word with a dose of sarcasm worthy of his beachmaster pal.

  He swung open the door and followed Violet to the trees. A black leather couch sat in the underbrush, and Violet sat down, her hands over her mouth and her eyes closed.

  Adler stood in front of her and plunged his hands into the pockets of his khaki trousers. Where should he start? He had so much to say, and he had to say it right.

  Violet took deep breaths as if pulling herself together. “They said you crash-landed in Normandy. How did you—how did you get back?”

  Adler groaned and toed the trunk of a tree. Not the time for that. “Long story. But I had a lot of time to think lately. I realized I didn’t explain myself when you apologized to me after the hoedown. You probably don’t think I actually forgave you.”

  “Why would you?” She thumped her hands down into her lap. “I was horrible.”

  “No, don’t do this. I never blamed you.” He whapped the tree with the back of his hand. “I mean, that letter upset me, and I already knew a lot of it. You—it was all new to you.”

  “But I shouldn’t have—”

  “Don’t.” He fixed a strong gaze on her. “It’s all forgiven. I mean it.”

  The resistance flowed out of her expression and her posture. “And I forgive you too—although you did nothing to wrong me. I don’t hold anything against you, and I don’t think less of you. Not at all.”

  His shoulders squirmed, wanting to shake it off but knowing he shouldn’t. “Well, thank you.”

  Then she sat taller and raised her chin. “And I never stopped loving you.”

  His chest collapsed from the impact of words he both craved and feared. It had taken courage for her to be honest, and it would take courage for Adler to be just as honest. “I never stopped loving you either, but—”

  “Oh, Adler!”

  “No.” He had to stop the joy from spreading on her face. “That doesn’t mean we can be together.”

  “Why not?” Wrinkles raced across her forehead. “I don’t care about your past. I don’t.”

  Adler sighed and squatted in front of her. “But you should care about my future. I have nothing to offer you.”

  Her lips curved in the sweetest smile. “But you do. You’re a fine man.”

  He couldn’t let flattery sway him. Time to leap in. “I have a son, and I’m going to raise him.”

  “Of course.”

  She obviously hadn’t thought this through. “I can’t ask you to raise another woman’s child.”

  Blue eyes narrowed at him. “Why not? Isn’t that what your mother did?”

  “It isn’t the same. Every time you’d look at him, you’d see . . .” He winced.

  Those eyes turned fierce. “I’d see the image of the man I love and an unfortunate young woman. But most of all I’d see a little boy who needs a mother.”

  Adler lowered his head and clenched his hands between his knees, the tension straining the stitches on his arm. She’d do that? Of course she would, but that was only one piece of the puzzle. He cleared his throat and raised his head. “I’m raising him in Kerrville. My folks are the only family he knows. I can’t rip him away from them.”

  “Of course not.”

  Didn’t she see yet? “That means I won’t be a missionary.”

  “I won’t either.”

  “Violet!”

  She shook her head with her eyes closed. “Another long story, but I already made that decision and it has nothing to do with you.”

  “But I can’t even offer you Kansas. I’m going to Texas. It’s a long way from your home.”

  She blinked. “All right.”

  Why couldn’t she see the problems? “I might not be able to find a job. Daddy would take me back at Paxton Trucking, but I refuse to ask him. I’ll ask Wyatt. The company will be his one day, and it should be his decision. He may not want to work with me, and I accept that.”

  “What about ACES?”

  “Not in Kerrville. Folks would think I was competing with Paxton Trucking. I won’t do that.”

  Another blink. “All right.”

  “Don’t you see? I might not find a job.”

  “I don’t see why not.” She frowned at him. “You’re smart and hardworking and personable.”

  Her innocence was so lovable and so maddening.

  A cramp shot through his legs, so he sat on the couch facing Violet, one knee up on the cushion to separate them. “It’s not that simple. In Kerrville everyone knows everyone else’s business. They all know I got my brother’s girlfriend pregnant and skipped town. Now she’s dead. Who’ll hire me?”

  “I doubt it’ll be that bad.” She twisted to face him and leaned her shoulder against the sofa back. “Don’t forget, I’m a teacher. I could find a job.”

  Everything in him bristled at the thought of a wife supporting him, but it was better than starving. And that wasn’t the point. “The point is, I refuse to drag you into the mess of my life.”

  Her mouth tightened. “Shouldn’t that be my choice?”

  “Yes. That’s why I’m trying to make you see how bad it’ll be. My family—I doubt we’ll ever be happy and close again. There’ll be tension, maybe outright antagonism.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine in time. Different, but fine.”

  Stubborn woman. He draped his elbow over the back of the sofa. “I’ll be a pariah in town. Think about it. No matter how upstanding a life I live, they’ll always see me as I was. At best, I’ll be politely tolerated. At worst, I’ll be shunned. Don’t you see?”

  Violet lowered her chin and fell silent for a moment. “That will be very difficult for you.”

  A sigh rushed out. Finally, she saw.

  “It sounds as if you could use someone by your side, someone who loves you and believes in you.” She raised her chin again, and her eyes glowed with determined love.

  “Violet!” He slapped the sofa back. “I refuse to drag you into that.”

  “Adler Paxton!” She slapped the cushion between them. “I was willing to go to Africa and live in a hut with wild beasts breathing down my neck. Don’t you think I can handle some snubbing?”

  Adler’s jaw fell open. There was that gumption he’d fallen in love with, and he could feel himself weakening. He rested his forehead in his hand. “Violet . . . it’s more than the snubbing. It’s everything, all the stuff I just told you about, all together. I love you too much to do that.”

  “I love you too. When you love someone, you’re willing to make sacrifices for him.”

  He didn’t deserve love like that. He didn’t. But he wanted it more than anything.

  “And when you love someone . . .” Her voice cracked. “You don’t run away from her.”

  He lowered his hand and met her gaze, now vulnerable and . . . lost.

  In half a second, he scooted beside her, took her in his arms, and kissed her, over and over. Lips and cheeks and nose and forehead and lips again. “My Violet. My darlin’ Violet.”


  “Don’t make me cry.” She clutched him close. “Please don’t. I’m tired of crying.”

  So he kissed her full on the mouth, slow and long and honest. This was what their love was meant to be all along—two sinners, repentant, forgiving, sacrificing, willing to face an uncertain future together.

  Violet’s lips twitched under his, and she laughed. “I thought they were going to give us privacy.”

  Privacy? What?

  Then the sounds of cheering and applause hit his ears. The men he used to call friends, whooping and making smooching noises over by the Nissen hut.

  Adler glared at them through the trees. “I don’t know whether to beat up the lot of them or buy them a round of drinks.”

  She giggled and kissed his cheek. “I know which they’d prefer.”

  He turned a smile to her. She’d said that with humor, without a trace of judgment. How he loved her. “Tell you what. We’ve got a whole herd of Mustangs at this here ranch. Let’s you and I squeeze into a cockpit, and we’ll ride off into that there sunset.”

  Violet stood and offered her hand and a cute little smile. “My sweet-talking cowboy.”

  48

  Leiston Army Airfield

  Thursday, June 15, 1944

  “We’re excited about the activities we have planned for the rest of the summer.” Violet handed typed sheets to both Rufus Tate and Col. Donald Graham. “Social, recreational, and intellectual pursuits.”

  “The usual activities and weekly dances, of course.” Kitty smiled from her spot on the sofa in the Aeroclub lounge. “We’re adding a Ping-Pong tournament, a chess tournament, and a darts tournament.”

  “A lecture series?” Colonel Graham tapped the paper. “That sounds interesting.”

  “Doesn’t it?” Kitty almost bounced in her seat. “One of the staff officers is a zoology professor, and many of the men have fascinating backgrounds and knowledge to share.”

  Including Paul Harrison, who was scheduled to give a lecture about China. “We’re thrilled about this.”

  “The hoedown was a big hit,” the colonel said. “Are you planning another party?”

  Violet looked at Kitty and laughed. “We thought about holding a Fourth of July party, but we decided it wouldn’t be proper to celebrate our independence from the British with the British.”

  Both men laughed.

  “So we’ll have a Fourth of July party for our men, and a party with the children at the end of the summer. Four times a year sounds right.”

  Kitty nodded. “Some of the townspeople are concerned that we’ll spoil the children, so we need to keep that in mind. We won’t be here forever.”

  “Not for long, the way things are going,” Colonel Graham said.

  The Allied forces in Normandy had consolidated all five beaches and were steadily advancing inland. But Berlin lay many miles away.

  The colonel smiled at Violet and Kitty. “You ladies have your work cut out for you.”

  “They’ll come through.” Mr. Tate stood and tugged his vest down over his belly. “Best Aeroclub in England, I always say.”

  Violet avoided Kitty’s gaze, or she’d break down laughing.

  But she wouldn’t complain. They’d worked long and hard, and the results were wonderful—a homey club, plenty of stimulating activities, and good relations with the British, even after the arrests of Mr. Banister and Griff. The fact that the thefts had been a joint American-English venture helped stop finger-pointing.

  The two men thanked the ladies and departed.

  Kitty scowled, puffed out her belly, and tugged her jacket down. “Best Aeroclub in England, I always say.”

  Violet laughed and linked arms with her friend, and they strolled down the hallway. Mr. Tate’s praise of the ladies’ work was as close to an apology as they’d get. Somehow it still satisfied.

  In each room men chatted, read, and enjoyed wholesome fun. By boosting morale, she and Kitty were playing a small but vital role in ending the war, and she couldn’t be happier.

  Adler walked in the front door.

  Oh yes, she could be happier.

  But the sunny smile he’d constantly worn since their reconciliation was gone.

  Violet released Kitty’s arm and met him in front of the snack bar. His face was pale and drawn. They’d flown a mission today—was it a bad one? “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

  He held up an envelope. “From Wyatt.”

  “You haven’t opened it.”

  Adler flipped it over in his hands. “I can face Nazis in the air and on the ground, but I can’t face my own brother.”

  After what the last letter had contained, Violet didn’t blame him. She reached for his left arm, but the patched area of his flight jacket reminded her of the bullet that had gashed the leather and his skin. She rubbed his right arm instead.

  Haggardness dimmed his eyes. “I want you to read it first.”

  To screen it for him. She took the envelope. Kitty was in the kitchen, so she led Adler into the office and shut the door.

  “People might talk. Leave the door open, please.”

  “Not today.” She leaned back against the closed door. “I’m blocking your escape route.”

  He cracked a smile. “You may be tall, but I can still toss you over my shoulder.”

  That might be fun to try someday. “I don’t mind you running as long as you take me with you.”

  Adler plunked himself in a chair, stretched out his long legs, and poked her toes with his. “The letter.”

  She opened the envelope. What was Wyatt like, this man who might someday be her brother-in-law? Please, Lord. Let him have a soft and merciful heart.

  She pulled out two sheets of stationery. Well, he certainly had a lot to say.

  Dear Adler,

  I’m sure you’re surprised to hear from me, but I pray you’ll read this and consider what I have to say. I need to apologize and ask your forgiveness.

  Sounds like you and I finally wrote home about the same time. Mama gave me your address and begged me to write you. She said you’re a fighter pilot. I’m a naval officer based on the same island. Looks like all three of us are preparing for the same operation. On Easter Sunday, I believe I saw you in the park. I couldn’t face you then, but I choose to do so now.

  I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am about Oralee. Although her death was an accident and there was no malice in my actions, my role wasn’t completely innocent. We have a long history of competition, you and I, and I resented how my younger brother bested me in everything. But Oralee rightfully chose you over me. You two were meant to be together, and I was wrong to let jealousy take root.

  When she didn’t want to cross that bridge and you kept coaxing her, all that resentment boiled up. My pride started that argument. My anger made Oralee cross the bridge just to stop our fighting. And my jealousy led her to refuse my help even as she teetered on the edge.

  So no, I didn’t kill her in the eyes of God or the law, but my actions did lead to her death. Even though the Lord has forgiven me, I will always live with the regret that her life ended far too early and that your life together never began.

  Please know I am deeply sorry for the grief I caused you. If you should choose to forgive me, I’ll be forever grateful. But if you don’t, I’ll understand.

  I’ve never blamed you for wanting to kill me that day, and I forgave you for that long ago. How can I do otherwise when I recognize the depth of my own sins against you and Clay and while I accept Jesus’s astounding mercy?

  As this war heats up, only God knows what will happen to us. I can’t head into battle without telling you everything in my heart. As much as we competed and fought, I miss you. I miss how you challenged me. I miss your sunny spirit, your passionate drive, and how you inspire people to do their best. You’re a good man, and I admire you, respect you, and love you. I’m a better man for having you as my brother.

  I pray we can be reconciled and can meet again. I’m enclosing my address, and
I hope you write me. Whatever you have to say, I can take it. Even if we’re never reconciled, please know I’ll pray for you all the days of my life.

  Your brother,

  Wyatt

  While she read, Adler paced. And he perched on the desk, and he paced, and he inspected the pictures, and he paced. “How long is that letter anyway?”

  Violet drew in a rough breath and blinked away the moisture in her eyes. “It’s all good news. He wrote this before D-day. He loves you, he forgives you, and he wants you to forgive him.”

  “Me?” Adler’s upper lip curled. “Forgive him? What for?”

  “He feels responsible for Oralee’s death.”

  Adler thumped into the chair and groaned. “Of course he does. I told him he was responsible.”

  “They released the mail after D-day. He’s probably received your letter by now.” She handed him the letter. “He sounds like a very sweet man. I see the family resemblance.”

  “Me? Sweet?” He barked out a laugh. “Darlin’, love has addled your brain.”

  And she didn’t mind one bit. She studied his expressions as he read Wyatt’s words—the regret, the concern, the grief, and the gratitude.

  He sat back in the chair and flipped through the pages as if something was missing. “‘My sins against you and Clay’? What’s he talking about? He didn’t do anything to Clay. Clay tackled me, and Wyatt skipped town.”

  “I don’t know.” Violet leaned back against the desk. “Do you want to see him?”

  “Yeah, but he said he was going into battle. That means he’s at sea, I reckon. All I have is his Fleet Post Office address. Who knows where he is?”

  “The Red Cross does—or can find out.”

  “You’d do that?” He gave her the mischievous grin she adored. “What’ll it cost me?”

  Violet tapped her lips and smiled.

  “I can pay that price.” He tilted his head to the door. “But not with the door shut.”

  Not in the sight of every man in the Aeroclub either.

  Violet opened the door, backed into the V-shaped space between the door and the wall, and beckoned with one finger.

  That grin grew bigger and bigger and closer and closer, until it melded with hers.