I am just now back from the hospital. Dottie gave birth this morning to a baby boy. Rudolph Wallace, Rudy for short. Oh, he is beautiful and squalling and a joy to behold. He has a shock of black hair like his father's, and he will undoubtedly have brown eyes like both of his parents. I was with Margo and Greg in the waiting room for the final four hours of Dottie's labor. Her labor was about twenty hours in all. Greg nearly wore a groove into the floor, pacing back and forth.
There is more good news for Dottie and Margo besides the baby. At least, we all believe it is good news. Clark King and his unit are to remain in North Africa for the foreseeable future, maintaining order around the new Allied bases there. That should mean he is out of harm's way.
And speaking of good news, I think this applies. Margo has gone out several times with Colonel Rhodes, and I do believe things are becoming serious between them. I have to laugh. Margo walks around with a half-dazed expression much of the time and I feel certain it is directly related to thoughts of the colonel.
As for me, my darling, I am well. I miss you. I pray for you. I wonder about you. Sometimes I fear for you. But God sustains me each day.
I love you and long for the day when you will read these letters. Soon Richard. Let it be soon.
Lucy
Part VIII
November 1943
Western Union
1943 NOV 30
MRS LUCY ANDERSON=
** 1602 JEFFERSON ST BOISE, ID=
REPORT JUST RECEIVED THROUGH THE INTERNATIONAL RED CROSS STATES THAT YOUR HUSBAND FIRST LIEUTENANT RICHARD L ANDERSON PREVIOUSLY REPORTED MISSING IN ACTION IS NOW WITH ALLIED FORCES IN ITALY IF FURTHER DETAILS OR OTHER INFORMATION IS RECEIVED YOU WILL BE PROMPTLY NOTIFIED=
M. R. JOHNSON ACTING THE ADJUTANT GENERAL
Part IX
December 1943
Chapter 66
For four weeks after receiving that miraculous, marvelous, wonderful telegram, Lucy waited to hear something more. Anything more. A letter, another telegram, a phone call. Anything at all.
She waited in vain.
* * *
Lucy clutched the collar of her coat close about her neck before descending the bus steps.
"I hope there's a letter awaitin' you, Mrs. Anderson," Jeb said. "You have a Merry Christmas, and I'll see you on Monday."
She glanced over her shoulder, smiled the best she could, and nodded. "Thanks, Mr. Pratt. Merry Christmas to you, too."
The door closed, the engine roared, and the bus pulled away from the curb.
Why, Lucy wondered, was it as hard—perhaps even harder—to wait for news now, knowing Richard was alive, as it had been when he was reported missing in action and might have been either dead or a captive? Shouldn't it be easier?
Maybe. But it wasn't.
A cold winter wind buffeted her back as she walked toward her apartment, pushing her along the sidewalk, quickening her pace. Not that she was in any hurry to get home. It was so silent, and the evening hours dragged by, minute by painful minute. She missed Richard. She longed for news. Any scrap of news that might tell her how he was, that he was truly safe, where he was stationed, what he was doing.
Another Christmas without Richard. If only she would hear something.
When she looked back over the past year, it seemed to Lucy that she'd been on one very long roller-coaster ride. One moment she was at the top, and then she was plummeting to the depths. Up, down, up, down, up, down.
Sorry, Lord. I always mean to be strong, to keep the faith, but somehow I end up weak and faithless again.
She sighed.
As she followed the narrow sidewalk around the house to her apartment entrance, she glanced toward the corner of the yard where her Victory Garden had flourished in the summer months. It was dormant now, forlorn looking with its skeleton remains of tomato plants and cornstalks. The jars of tomatoes, pickles, beets, and more that lined her shelves were a more pleasant reminder of the success of her first garden.
Whatever is good, think on these things, she reminded herself.
She put her key in the lock and opened the door. As always, her gaze fell first to the floor, looking for mail. Hoping against hope.
Nothing.
She sighed again and closed the door. "I'm home, Empress." She placed her purse on the kitchen counter. "Want some milk?"
Her cat always came quickly, if not at Lucy's call then at the sound of the refrigerator door opening.
Lucy poured milk from the glass bottle into a bowl, expecting to feel Empress rubbing against her leg as she placed the bowl on the floor. Loud purring told her the cat was near, yet the milk remained untouched.
"Hey, kitty." She turned. "Don't you—" The remainder of the sentence died in her throat. Her entire body stilled. She dared not even breathe.
Richard stood in the archway between kitchen and living room, holding a contented Empress in his arms. His thick black hair had been trimmed recently. His jaw was dark with a day's growth of beard. And his marvelous, wonderful, gold-flecked hazel eyes watched her with the tenderest of gazes. He looked healthy. Strong. Whole.
"Is it you?" she whispered, disbelieving. "Is it really you?"
He set the cat on its feet. "It's really me, darling."
Feeling returned to Lucy's limbs, and she launched herself across the room and into his waiting embrace. "Richard. Oh, Richard. It's you. It's you!"
His mouth captured hers in a kiss, long and deep. All the sensations that she'd longed to remember when she believed him lost forever—the scent of him, the taste of him, the feel of him—came rushing back in a flood.
Richard … Richard … Richard …
At last, the kiss ended. Breathless, Lucy leaned back, cradled her husband's face between her hands, and stared at him, memorizing every new line on his beloved face. He looked older. More than tired. But wonderful. So wonderful.
"You're home," she whispered.
"I'm home." He brushed his lips across her forehead. "Honey, I've been posted to Gowen Field. I'm going to be training pilots for combat."
She couldn't believe it. She must be hearing things. "Gowen Field? You're home to stay?"
He grinned. "That's what it looks like."
"Oh, Richard. Oh, Richard." She trailed her hands from his shoulders to his wrists and back again, confirming that he was whole, making certain he was real and not a dream. "No one told me you were coming. Why didn't I know you were coming?"
"I pulled a few strings to get here before you were notified." He brushed her hair back from her face, hooking it behind her ear. With the same hunger she felt, he studied her. "I wanted to surprise you for Christmas."
She laughed, gladness bubbling up from some deep place in her spirit. "You did. You did surprise me."
They kissed again, Lucy melting into his embrace, wanting never to leave it.
She didn't know what tomorrow held in store for them. Only God knew. So she would treasure today, every day, moment by moment, blessing by blessing. No longer would she borrow trouble from tomorrow. Instead, she would be thankful for answered prayers—and the warmth and joy found in her husband's arms.
Part X
February 1944
Tuesday, February 15, 1944
It's late at night as I begin this entry in my diary. Richard is fast asleep in our bedroom, but my thoughts are too full, my mind too busy, for me to find rest.
Today is, in a way, the anniversary of the birth of the Victory Club. One year ago, we heard the news of the battle in North Africa that took so many lives. I remember how gloomy and beaten in spirit we were as we sat together at lunch That was the day I declared I would pray for victory, not just for the Allies, but for each woman in that circle of friends and for those they loved. That was the day I promised to pray for victory over our fears.
One year already, and how different we are, how much we have gone through to get to this day.
Dottie is a loving mother to Rudy, whom she believes to be the most perfect, happy, good
-natured baby in the world, and a devoted wife to Greg, who is doing so well now. He's learning to read Braille and he and his dog Buster go all around town together. I'm amazed by what Greg is achieving. He plans to start college next fall.
As for Margo, she is head over heels in love with Vance Rhodes. I haven't seen her look so radiant since I've known her. I'm sure it helps that Clark remains stationed in North Africa, rather than being in the thick of battle in Europe. Although Margo hasn't said so, I think Vance has proposed and she said yes.
No one has heard from Penelope in more than two months. Her mother told me she got a divorce in Nevada last fall and married that man she left town with before the ink was dry on the divorce decree. I can understand why she wouldn't contact me. I tried to talk her out of leaving Stuart, and she didn't like my interference. But I cannot understand why she makes no attempt to contact her children. I'll never understand that. My heart breaks for her and all she's thrown away.
It's difficult to know how Stuart feels. Mostly, I think he's relieved. Yet, there is great sadness in him too. We are all praying for him just as we continue to pray for Penelope.
As for me, I am blessed. Richard works hard every day, training crews for what they will face overseas, but he comes home to me each night. We are happy and well. There were difficult times to work through after I confessed my moral failure to him. But he forgave me, and our union is stronger than ever, forged as it was through that time of testing.
"The Lord is my strength and my song; he has given me victory." That's what Psalms 118 says. I've learned over the past year that, in the end, Christ is the only victory that counts. Trials will come. Battles will be fought. But Christ alone is my victory. I want to live each and every day in Him and in His victory.
L.
A Note to Readers
Dear Friends,
We live in perilous times. The news blasts those perils at us 24/7. Terrorists blow up buildings and buses. Wars rage. Famine and drought wreak havoc. Epidemics ravage nations. Earthquakes shake the foundations of our world.
But God is not surprised by what happens. He doesn't look away, then find us in trouble when He looks back again. He knows the beginning and the end and every moment in between. What the devil means for evil, God can and does turn to good in the lives of those who love Him. Nothing enters the life of a follower of Jesus that is not caused or allowed by God the Father as a means of changing our character to be more Christlike. Nothing. God is in control. He has a grand design, a master plan. We see only a tiny speck of time. He sees eternity.
Prior to His crucifixion, Jesus prayed to the Father on behalf of those who trusted in Him then and those who would trust in Him in the future: "I'm not asking you to take them out of the world, but to keep them safe from the evil one. They do not belong to this world any more than I do. Make them holy by your truth; teach them your word, which is truth. Just as you sent me into the world, I am sending them into the world. And I give myself entirely to you so they also might be entirely yours." (John 17, NLT).
No matter what perils swirl around you today, remember that He loves you and He will see you through if you put your trust in Him. Jesus doesn't just bring victory into our lives in the midst of troubles. He is the victory.
In the grip of His grace,
Robin Lee Hatcher
www.robinleehatcher.com
Acknowledgments
I am continually grateful for the professional partnership and the special friendship I've enjoyed with my literary agent, Natasha Kern. Thanks for believing in both me and the stories from my heart, Natasha.
A special, heartfelt thanks goes to the members of my prayer team.
* * *
My response is to get down on my knees before the Father, this magnificent Father who parcels out all heaven and earth. I ask him to strengthen you by his Spirit—not a brute strength but a glorious inner strength—that Christ will live in you as you open the door and invite him in. And I ask him that with both feet planted firmly on love, you'll be able to take in with all Christians the extravagant dimensions of Christ's love. Reach out and experience the breadth! Test its length! Plumb the depths! Rise to the heights! Live full lives, full in the fullness of God.
God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us. (Ephesians 3:14-20, The Message)
About the Author
Robin Lee Hatcher is the best-selling author of over seventy-five books. Her well-drawn characters and heartwarming stories of faith, courage, and love have earned her both critical acclaim and the devotion of readers. Her numerous awards include the Christy Award for Excellence in Christian Fiction, the RITA® Award for Best Inspirational Romance, Romantic Times Career Achievement Awards for Americana Romance and for Inspirational Fiction, the Carol Award, the 2011 Idahope Writer of the Year, and Lifetime Achievement Awards from both Romance Writers of America® (2001) and American Christian Fiction Writers (2014). Catching Katie was named one of the Best Books of 2004 by the Library Journal.
When not writing, Robin enjoys being with her family, spending time in the beautiful Idaho outdoors, Bible art journaling, reading books that make her cry, watching romantic movies, and decorative planning. A mother and grandmother, Robin makes her home on the outskirts of Boise, sharing it with a demanding Papillon puppy named Boo and a persnickety tuxedo cat named Pinky.
Learn more about Robin and her books by visiting her website at www.robinleehatcher.com
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Also by Robin Lee Hatcher
Stand Alone Titles
Here in Hart's Crossing
The Victory Club
Beyond the Shadows
Catching Katie
Whispers From Yesterday
The Shepherd's Voice
Ribbon of Years
Firstborn
The Forgiving Hour
Heart Rings
A Wish and a Prayer
When Love Blooms
A Carol for Christmas
Return to Me
Loving Libby
Wagered Heart
The Perfect Life
The Coming to America Series
Dear Lady
Patterns of Love
In His Arms
Promised to Me
Where the Heart Lives Series
Belonging
Betrayal
Beloved
Books set in Kings Meadow
A Promise Kept
Love Without End
Whenever You Come Around
I Hope You Dance
Keeper of the Stars
Books set in Thunder Creek
You'll Think of Me
You're Gonna Love Me
The Sisters of Bethlehem Springs Series
A Vote of Confidence
Fit to Be Tied
A Matter of Character
For a full list of books, visit www.robinleehatcher.com
The Victory Club Page 23
