Along Waters of Sunshine and Shadow

by Ava Miles

  Those blue eyes were aglow. “You’re here, and I’m going to see to it that you’re taken care of for a while. Is it impolite to mention you’re a trifle thin?”

  He’d gotten so used to being this lean, he’d forgotten how it might look to her. “I’ll put some weight back on, don’t worry. The steak I had last night helped.” And yet, he’d found he couldn’t eat but half of it, unused to regular meals.

  She brushed his shoulder like she was ironing out wrinkles in the cloth. He’d done his best to be presentable in his uniform, but it had been a long train ride.

  “I’ll have to get over worrying about you. It’s been a full-time job for some time.”

  He caught the womanly speculation in her gaze as she surveyed him and felt his muscles tighten in response. Though he hadn’t told her so, he’d thought about her romantically even before they began their correspondence. Martin had shown him her picture, and he used to read her letters out loud at night. Something about her words had captured Noah. Had made him want to know her. Even so, he’d tried not to think about the future, not wanting to make promises to her when he didn’t know where he’d be sleeping at night. She deserved better than to fall for someone who might not make it out.

  Her mother’s words came back to him. No, they might not know each other like a normal couple might over nights out to a movie or having a soda at a drugstore, but that didn’t change the truth.

  He knew her, and she knew him.

  In the orphanage library, he’d learned the power of words. A book’s words could teach you. They could take you on a grand adventure to a place you’ve never visited in person.

  With Anna, he’d learned that the words in a letter could fill a man’s heart with love and give him the strength to do his duty. He didn’t know where his feelings for Anna would take them, but he was determined to learn what his words had done to her. Had they changed her as much as hers had changed him?

  They were about to find out.

  Chapter 2

  “Anna Sims, is that your young soldier?” Anna heard Mrs. Fitzsimmons call out. She turned and spotted the elderly woman out on her porch.

  Of course, they would be attracting attention. Heavens, she’d even dropped the groceries! But seeing him…with that thick sandy hair and adorable dent in his chin, well, they were lucky her mouth hadn’t dropped to the floor as well.

  “Yes, Mrs. Fitzsimmons, this is Noah Weatherby.” She gave Noah a smile. “When you grow up in a neighborhood, everybody knows you.”

  The woman lifted a hand in greeting from the shade of her front porch. “I’ve been praying for you, young man. It’s good to finally see you. Anna here has been waiting for weeks. Thank you for doing your duty, and welcome home.”

  Noah’s face seemed to ripple in shock before he tipped his hat with his hand. “Thank you, ma’am, for your prayers. And for the greetings.”

  Oh, he was embarrassed. His face was turning the color of a ripe tomato like the ones they had in their neighborhood victory garden. Wasn’t that adorable?

  “I expect you’re going to have a lot of people thanking you around here,” Mrs. Fitzsimmons said. “We’re all devastated by the boys we’ve lost in the neighborhood like Martin and Paddy O’Shea, but we keep moving on, don’t we?”

  They had lost so many boys, and Anna feared they would lose even more if the Japanese continued to hold out.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Noah said, clearing his throat.

  “You come around for some tea and pound cake,” she said. “I’ve been saving up my rations. I make the best pound cake in the neighborhood if I do say so myself.”

  Anna squeezed Noah’s arm when his mouth parted for a brief moment. Dear Mrs. Fitzsimmons. She’d always been a sweetheart, giving out her famous pound cake and cookies to the kids in the neighborhood for decades.

  “That’s a mighty fine invitation, Mrs. Fitzsimmons. Thank you.”

  “Anna, you’re welcome to come too, of course,” she said. “I’m going to get back inside. It’s a warm day out. Nice to meet you, Noah.”

  “You too, ma’am,” he said.

  And so it went as they walked back to her house. Some of the neighbors called out greetings from their porches, and others hustled out and met them on the sidewalk. Old Mr. Dunne pumped Noah’s hand vigorously and offered to buy him a pint down at Dougherty’s bar. Mrs. Walsh introduced her three young boys, praising Anna’s teaching, which had made her give her former pupil, Davey, a wink. Katherine Kenna gave Noah a hug after he shared his heartfelt condolences for the loss of her fiancé, who’d died in the Pacific.

  Anna knew everyone wanted to get a better look at the soldier she’d been writing, the one who’d been Martin’s best friend. But it seemed Noah didn’t know how to respond when people mentioned Martin or asked him about his service. And no wonder. He’d told her more than once how guilty he felt to have survived when so many had not.

  She kept moving down the street, Noah in tow, promising to hold a welcome home party soon so everyone could properly meet him. Otherwise, they would have been caught on the street greeting everyone for hours. Of course, they all meant well, but she wanted him solely to herself after all this time, and she didn’t think there was anything wrong with that. No, not at all.

  She found herself smoothing her hair more than once as they moved along. Was her make-up still fresh? She imagined she could use a dab of powder and a touch of lipstick. When a girl waited this long to meet a boy, she couldn’t help but be a little self-conscious. At least she was wearing her white shoes. They were worn out, but with the war on, people were only allowed two new pairs of shoes a year. She’d chosen more practical ones, and boy, wasn’t she glad she wasn’t wearing them. She and her friend Alice joked they looked like elderly aunts in them.

  When they finally reached her house, she said, “Let’s get inside before anyone else stops us. Goodness, what a welcoming committee. You look tuckered out.”

  “I didn’t expect that,” he said, her grocery sacks still in his hands. “Anna, were all those people truly praying for me?”

  Her hand stilled on the doorknob and she turned to look at him. His green eyes were searching hers for answers, his incredulity obvious.

  “Of course. You mean a lot to me, and you meant a lot to Martin. Everyone knows about you. I told you that I added your name to the soldiers our church prays for. That was all right, wasn’t it?”

  She’d told him as much in one of her letters, and he also knew she went to Father Shaughnessy’s Friday night rosary to end the war when she wasn’t volunteering at the USO.

  He nodded briskly. “I know you wrote me about the whole praying thing, but I never imagined other people…”

  “When you’re…ah…friends with a Sims, you become friends with everyone we know.”

  His brow wrinkled and he looked up. The wonder in his eyes took her aback, but then again, Noah had grown up without a family or a home, hadn’t he? That was why Martin had told him that he’d become part of their family.

  Her throat clogged. Oh, how she missed her brother. She wanted to hug him and squeeze him tight for bringing Noah to them. In some ways, she knew it was his way of taking care of her, and she liked thinking about him smiling down from heaven, filled with the knowledge of how right he’d been to do so. But maybe he’d been taking care of Noah too. Yes, that sounded just like Martin.

  She opened the door to their house and gestured inside. “You have people who care about you, Noah Weatherby. More than just in this house. It might take some time to adjust to that, but you’ll manage. I know you will.”

  She watched as his Adam’s apple moved, but he didn’t step forward.

  “It’s a heck of a thing to adjust to, but you’re right. I want to.”

  “That settles it then,” she said with a firm shake of her head. “Now, I want to make you some coffee. Then I plan to simply gaze at your wonderful face and soak up you being here.”

  “The coffee sounds good,” he said, “b
ut the whole gazing thing you might save for the stars.”

  It took her a moment to process what he meant, and then she smiled. “We’ll start with coffee.” She’d talk him into staying for dinner, at the very least. Pot roast and blueberry pie, just like she’d promised in her letters.

  “All right, if it’s not an imposition,” he said.

  His hesitance took her aback, but perhaps this was a little overwhelming for him. He’d just gotten back, after all, and she’d met enough soldiers through her volunteer work at the hospital and the USO to have a good sense of the struggle most of them faced on a daily basis.

  Leading him into the kitchen, she took the bags and set them on the table they used for everyday eating. “Let me just call my mother. I’m sure she’ll be so happy to see you.”

  His hand curled around her arm, stopping her. “We met earlier.”

  This time it was she who blinked in shock. “What? You were here?” How could her mother have let him leave? She knew how excited Anna was to see him.

  He cleared his throat. “You were out, and I…told her I’d come back.”

  This didn’t make any sense. “But why?”

  He shifted on his feet. “It wouldn’t be easy for any mother to see her son’s best friend standing on her doorstep when he’s…not with him.”

  Had her mother given in to her grief? “Did she make you uncomfortable?”

  His brief hesitation told her all she needed to know. “Of course not,” he said after a moment, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. “She’s simply grieving, and I’m a reminder of that. It didn’t help that I returned the handkerchief she’d given Martin.”

  She felt her heart tear. “Oh, we wondered what had happened to it.” When his things had come in a small box, she’d barely mustered the will to open it. Her mother certainly hadn’t embraced the task.

  They both fell silent, and Noah reached up and rubbed her shoulder, his fingers strong and warm. She leaned into him like a cat bathing in sunshine.

  “It was a shock, seeing me and that memento,” Noah said. “Let her be for the moment. If she wants to join us, she will.”

  Her mother was grieving, but that was no excuse to lock herself away in her room all the time. Goodness, if she wasn’t at Malloy’s Insurance, working as a secretary, or at her Victory Knitting group, she barely left the house.

  Loss had affected them so differently. Anna was more determined than ever to live life fully while her mother cloaked herself in grief. Death shrouds were supposed to be for the dead. Not the living. Her mother didn’t seem to understand that.

  “I can’t imagine how that must have made you feel,” she said.

  “Don’t give it another thought,” he said, the corners of his mouth lifting weakly. “She’s entitled after losing a son.”

  He might say that, but she knew better. How could her mother’s grief not have affected him? Anna was affected by it every day, and she loved her mother. Plus, he’d told her more than once in his letters how guilty he felt that he was alive and Martin wasn’t.

  “Is this why you were so surprised by how welcoming everyone was in the neighborhood?” she made herself ask.

  “Partly,” he said. “Now, can I help you put away the groceries? I haven’t been around them in so long I might not recognize staples like butter or…oatmeal, but I still remember how to use a refrigerator”—his eyes darted to theirs and he whistled—“even if this is the newest model I’ve laid eyes on.”

  “Martin insisted we buy it before he went off to the war.” She knew he was trying to reassure her. It was so kind of him to do so, but she wasn’t ready to let it go. “I’ll only say one more thing about my mother.”

  “Your brother used to tell me that you liked to have the last word,” he said, a spark of something flashing in his eyes. Whatever he saw in her own eyes doused it. He took a step toward her. “Oh, Anna, I’m so sorry. Being with you reminds me of everything he told me, about you and him, and how happy your mother used to be. Should I…not mention him or any of that?”

  Sorrow shot out of her heart like an unstoppable geyser, and tears tracked down her cheeks. “Noah Weatherby, don’t you dare pretend you didn’t know Martin just because he’s gone! I miss him too, but I’m not going to stop talking about him. In fact, I want to hear more stories about your time in the war…and how he…died.”

  He flinched. “You don’t want to hear that. Suffice it to say he died a hero.”

  She swiped at her tears. “I know it will be hard for you to tell me, but I want to hear it. Noah, sometimes I dream about it, and I…need to know what happened.”

  He reached for her face, and then he was rubbing her tears away, his touch so tender and loving she was sure she was going to cry buckets if she didn’t get a hold of herself.

  “I’m sorry you dream about it. I know how bad dreams can be. Let’s see how it goes. It…won’t be easy to tell you the details, but I’ll do it if you want.”

  She did want, and she didn’t want. She only knew she had to know. “I wouldn’t put away Martin’s pictures when Mom asked me to after V-E Day. It would be like having…him die all over again. I can’t do that, Noah. He doesn’t deserve to be stuffed in some stupid shoebox. He was my twin. We…shared everything since birth—except this stupid war that took him. Oh, I’m being a ninny. Please forgive me.”

  He took out a handkerchief and handed it to her, and it made her think about the handkerchief he’d carried for over a year and a half with the hopes of one day returning it to her mother. He’d never mentioned it in their letters, and she wondered why. She would have to ask him later. Right now, everything was too intense.

  “You’re a brave woman, Anna Sims, and missing Martin doesn’t make you a ninny. It makes you a good sister.”

  “I don’t know about that. I’m only a sister who loved her brother.” She wiped her cheeks. “How about that coffee?” she asked. “Then I’m going to make you a blueberry pie like I promised.”

  “You certainly wrote me a lot about your pie,” he said, smiling. “Sometimes I even dreamed about it. I savored those dreams.”

  She was glad not all of his dreams were bad, but had that added to the physical hunger he’d written her about or had it been a comfort? She hoped the latter. “I made sure I had everything I needed the minute I read your telegram. Oh, and I have a pot roast I’ve been marinating too. You’re staying for dinner, right? I mean, we have so much to talk about.”

  Taking both her hands, he gazed deeply into her eyes. Her chest felt tighter suddenly, and she felt short of breath. He was so tall and those green eyes of his were arresting under his dark brows.

  “Anna, let’s start with coffee and sit a spell,” he said. “We have plenty of time to talk about pies and the like. I thought I’d take you to dinner tonight, if you’d be willing to go with me. You don’t need to make a fuss.”

  She squeezed his hands. “I’d love to have dinner out with you sometime, Mr. Weatherby, but tonight I want to make a fuss. Good heavens, I’ve prepared for this for days! Noah…you’re here. I…want to celebrate you being home safe and with me. I want…”

  His eyes lowered to her lips, and she found herself at a loss for words. His hands suddenly felt hot in her own. She inhaled sharply and watched his eyes darken. Yes, he wanted her. She’d seen the signs often enough to know, but she hadn’t felt this kind of want for any man before, even though she’d just turned twenty-two years old. Oh, how nice it was to have him here in the flesh after subsisting so long on the simple words of his letters.

  “Noah,” she whispered, tilting her head up. “I’m so glad you’re here with me. I’ve…wanted this. You.” It made her blush to be so bold, but she’d waited a year and a half, hadn’t she?

  He looked away for a moment, his jaw clenching. “I thought we’d agreed to take it slow. Your mother seemed to think it was a good idea.”

  Of course she did, Anna thought, but the war had made everything seem urgent somehow. “I know I said
that, but I can’t seem to remember why just now, what with you standing in front of me, all tall and handsome in your uniform.”

  A smile flickered across his face, and it made him look years younger. “Well, I do. I’m not one of those fresh guys at the USO who make you want to tug your earring.”

  She’d told him about the signal she and Alice had come up with to save each other from over-eager soldiers. “I’d never tug my earring where you’re concerned.”

  That wonderful smile stretched until it filled his whole face, and she wanted to cheer. Oh, how she’d wondered what he looked like when he smiled.

  “Anna Sims, are you flirting with me?”

  “Yes, Noah Weatherby, I most certainly am,” she said, “and trust me when I tell you that it’s a rare thing.”

  So rare, in fact, she couldn’t remember doing so with a single man since she’d started writing him. Sure, she’d met some handsome soldiers at the USO, but none of them had turned her head. They didn’t “talk” like Noah, and even though they’d only corresponded through letters, she felt like she knew his soul, everything from how Robinson Crusoe was one of his favorite books to how he’d given chocolate to a starving boy in Italy. The boy had offered to shine his shoes even though he had no polish and only a tattered rag.

  “Oh, I have something for you,” she said. “Be right back.”

  She ran up the stairs and dashed into her room. She’d bought him a copy of his favorite book as a welcome home present. He was going to be so happy she’d remembered. She clutched the brightly wrapped edition to her chest, her heart so happy from the wonder of having him here in her house. Inside the front cover, she’d tucked the Valentine’s Day card she’d made for him the day after V-E Day. Harold Tiller, one of her students, had suggested they make cards for all their returning friends and relatives, an idea she’d loved. She’d daydreamed a little as she cut a red heart out of paper and glued it on the white card.