The Land Beneath Us

by Sarah Sundin

  The previous August, Leah had come with him to Kerrville and stayed with his parents while he was at Fort Sam Houston. Whenever he could get leave, he took it. Those had been sweet, sweet months.

  In December he’d shipped overseas to join the Rangers again, and he’d followed them into Germany and Czechoslovakia, celebrating V-E Day with Gene Mayer at his side.

  When he shipped overseas, Leah had returned to Tullahoma to help at the orphanage and the library. She’d also worked with the librarian at Camp Forrest to arrange the donation of the library’s collection to the town after the base closed. That meant the little town library would need a larger building.

  Leah had passed her part of the project to Rita Sue, because in January, Clay and Leah were moving to Austin, to a little place of their own. He couldn’t wait.

  “Daddy!” Helen toddled across the lawn in a red dress with a red bow tied in her black curls. She flopped onto the bottom porch step and crawled up. Hard to believe she’d be two in April.

  “Hello, my little jingle bell.” Clay scooped her up and kissed a sticky cheek. “Are you having fun?”

  She nodded and bounced in his arms. “Moo! Moo!”

  “Yes, music.” Pawpaw, Uncle Emilio, and other Ramirez uncles and cousins played rollicking mariachi music on Daddy’s makeshift stage under a honey locust.

  “Tee-tee!” Helen squealed and pointed at Timmy, who was running up with a sprig of blond hair waving above his head. How Helen adored her three-and-a-half-year-old cousin.

  “Hi, Uncle Clay. Hi, Uncle Wy. Hi . . . Daddy.” The little boy stopped short of the father he’d only known through letters and photos until recently.

  “Howdy, buckaroo.” Adler squatted in front of him. “Want to fly?”

  “Yippee!” Timmy jumped up and down, then scrambled onto Adler’s back.

  Helen leaned out of Clay’s arms. “Me! Me! Me!”

  Timmy frowned. “Not her.”

  “Yes, her.” Adler reached for Helen. “But she’ll go in the cargo hold. You’re the pilot this time. Then we’ll switch.”

  “Yay!”

  Clay relinquished his daughter. “Remember, she’s cargo, not a bomb to drop.”

  “I think I can remember that.” He winked at Clay and clutched the little girl to his belly. “Time for takeoff.” Off he ran with two giggling children.

  Wyatt shook his head. “Here I am, the oldest and the last to have kids.”

  “Not for long.” Clay nudged him. “Am I right?”

  Wyatt glanced across to the tables, where his pretty redheaded wife was setting out food with Violet. Dorothy’s waist was a lot thicker than when Clay had met her in England. Wyatt put a finger to his lips. “Don’t say anything till we make our announcement, you hear?”

  “Better make it soon before her belly makes the announcement for you.”

  Wyatt punched Clay in the shoulder and laughed. “Come on, let’s get tamales.”

  They moseyed across the lawn toward the food tables.

  Mama and Leah came out of the side door of the house carrying trays, Leah wearing a red suit and a little round red hat. Leah called out something, and Dorothy and Violet turned to her and laughed.

  Now that Leah had a family, she was doing her best to welcome her new sisters-in-law into the fold.

  Leah turned to him as if she felt his gaze, and her smile took his breath away. How was it possible for her to get more beautiful each day?

  She set down her tray and placed one hand on her flat stomach. She’d just found out she was expecting again. It was a boy, she insisted, and his name was William Walter Paxton.

  William after Daddy, and Walter for Dr. Walter Block, who had been killed by shrapnel from German artillery when the Rangers were battling for Bergstein, Germany, in December 1944. Right before Clay had arrived. The whole battalion had mourned for Doc Block, a fine physician and an even finer man.

  The mariachi music stopped, and Pawpaw lifted his guitar. “It took a war to bring my grandsons together again, but here they are, three of the finest heroes you’ve ever seen. On the sea, in the air, and on the ground.”

  Clay rolled his eyes to Wyatt, but his usually modest brother smiled with appropriate pride. Across the lawn, Adler set down the two children, avoiding everyone’s stares, not like the boy who’d thrived on adulation as the star of the Kerrville High baseball team.

  The war had done more than bring them together. It had changed them all.

  “Here they are!” Pawpaw said. “The Gringo Mariachis, together again.”

  The tamales would have to wait.

  Clay headed up to the wooden stage. He plopped his sombrero on his head and unpacked his violin and bow, while Adler pulled out his trumpet and Wyatt his guitar.

  “Merry Christmas, y’all,” Wyatt said from under his broad white sombrero. “We’re going to play ‘Las Mañanitas.’” His voice flickered out at the end.

  Some of the faces before them looked hopeful, some looked leery, and some downright hostile. As family, they all knew what Wyatt and Adler had done.

  “We’re ready,” Clay said in a firm voice to his brothers. “Uno, dos, tres.”

  He drew his bow across the strings, Wyatt began strumming, and Adler put the trumpet to his lips.

  The music picked up confidence, even though they’d had little time to practice. Each instrument added its own flavor and strength, blending and weaving together.

  Adler lowered his trumpet, and they sang, their voices merging and climbing into the cool air. The familiar Spanish rolled off Clay’s tongue.

  They watched each other as they played, keeping tempo in silent communication.

  Clay’s heart swelled to fullness. In the future, moments of tension would arise between them, maybe even arguments. But nothing—nothing—could rip them apart again.

  At the back of the crowd, Daddy stood with his arm around Mama, who wiped her face with a hankie. Both faces were wild with emotion.

  This barbecue was a feast thrown for their three prodigal sons.

  Three. Clay might not have run away, but he’d been lost in a pit. And that pit had been partly of his own making. But he was out now, home for good, and joy welled up through his violin and his voice.

  He’d been through a dark season. A time to lose what he’d treasured. A time to mourn his lost dreams. A time of war.

  Now he lived in a new season. A time to heal, not just bodies but his family and his own heart. A time to keep and to love. And today, a time to laugh and dance.

  Prayers of thanks floated up to the heavens. Only the Lord could turn the seasons. Only the Lord could put the shards of his life and his family back together into something stronger and more beautiful than before.

  Wyatt, Adler, and Clay struck the final chord in unison, and the crowd applauded, their faces grinning or teary-eyed or hesitant, but each transformed.

  With his bow in one hand and his violin in the other, Clay draped his arms over the shoulders of his brothers. His whole brothers. And they bowed as one.

  His throat constricted. Not only had his forgiveness been the key to restoring his family, but it was the key to his brothers becoming accepted in the community again.

  After the applause died, Pawpaw stepped onto the stage. “Dinner is served.”

  Wyatt and Adler each gave Clay a glance full of meaning.

  “It’s good,” Wyatt said. “It’s good to be back together.”

  It certainly was. “Hurry up, or Uncle Emilio will eat all the tamales.”

  “No kidding.” Adler poked Wyatt. “Race you.”

  Off they ran, and Clay laughed. Some things would never change.

  As much as he loved tamales, he had something better in mind. Despite Leah’s height, Clay had no trouble picking her out. She crossed the stream of the crowd, her face glowing just for him.

  “That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” She hugged him tight.

  Clay pressed a kiss to her soft curls.

  Leah
tipped up her face, her glistening eyelashes the only hint of tears. “I love you so much.”

  He enjoyed this game they played. “Not as much as I love you.”

  “I love you more than libraries.”

  “Ah, you always say that.” He smacked her on the lips. “I love you more than—”

  “I love you more than all the books in all the libraries in all the world.”

  Clay’s words evaporated, and he swallowed at the radiance of her gaze. “That’s a whole lot.”

  She pressed up on her toes for a kiss.

  He whipped off his sombrero, held it as a shield from busybodies, and kissed her soundly. No book, no library could express the wonder and passion and joy he felt for his wife. Thank goodness she gladly accepted kisses in lieu of poetry.

  She pulled away, plucked his sombrero out of his hand, and set it back on his head. “There. Very handsome.”

  Clay eyed the second-floor window of their bedroom. Maybe no one would miss them . . .

  Leah snuggled up. “Oh, Clay, this is the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

  “Me too.” He rocked her in a circle until he could no longer see that tempting window.

  “Even with all the mariachi music, I can only think of ‘Hark! the Herald Angels Sing.’”

  “Why is that, my little poetess?” How he loved her musings.

  “The third verse. ‘Hail the heav’n-born Prince of Peace! Hail the Sun of righteousness! Light and life to all He brings, Risen with healing in His wings.’ That’s what the Lord has done in our lives, in our family—light, life, healing, peace.”

  “So true.” Across the lawn, Daddy and Mama were directing people in line, Wyatt plopped a tamale onto Dorothy’s plate, and Adler carried two plates to a blanket on the lawn while Violet carried Timmy.

  “Did you know ‘Paxton’ means ‘town of peace’?” Leah said.

  “Mm-hmm. Now it’s finally true.” Clay gave her a little kiss, then nuzzled in her hair and took in the sight of his family. All together, all determined, all forgiving, and all forgiven.

  The time for peace had come.

  Letter to the Reader

  Dear Reader,

  On a cool and blustery summer day in 2007, my family visited Pointe du Hoc in Normandy, France. Our young children ran whooping through the giant craters, and my husband and I stared down the sheer cliffs in awe, picturing the men of the US 2nd Ranger Battalion climbing under German fire. Clay’s story began to form on that day.

  The 2nd Ranger Battalion was a real unit, and the details of their training and combat were drawn from the historical record. While Clay and the men in his platoon are entirely fictional characters, many of the real Rangers appear in this story—Lt. Col. James Earl Rudder, Capt. Walter Block, Capt. Dean Knudson, Lt. James Eikner, 1st Sgt. Leonard “Len” Lomell, and Staff Sgt. Jack Kuhn.

  Companies D, E, and F of the 2nd Ranger Battalion became legendary on D-day when they climbed the cliffs of Pointe du Hoc, found and disabled the guns, and fended off counterattacks for two full days until relieved on June 8. The remaining three companies, plus the 5th Ranger Battalion, fought horrific battles on Omaha Beach, where Brig. Gen. Norman Cota gave the command that later became the Ranger motto—“Rangers, lead the way!”

  I hope you enjoyed some of the details on pregnancy and baby care in the early 1940s. I found several “Mother’s Books” from the era, which were fascinating and slightly scary in parts (daily sunbaths for infants, anyone?). While official advice has changed—and will continue to change—the love of a mother for her child remains through all generations.

  In Tullahoma, all locations and businesses are real, with the exception of the fictional Coffee Children’s Home and the characters’ homes, but all townspeople are entirely fictional.

  One “too coincidental to be real but really happened” moment occurred in the story. The 2nd Ranger Battalion and the US 357th Fighter Group actually sailed to Britain on the same ship on the same day. When history hands you something like that on a platter, you take it.

  I hope you enjoyed reading about D-day on the ground. If you missed the first two books in the series, please join Wyatt at sea in The Sea Before Us (2018) and Adler in the air in The Sky Above Us (2019).

  If you’re on Pinterest, please visit my board for The Land Beneath Us (www.pinterest.com/sarahsundin) to see pictures of Tullahoma, England, Pointe du Hoc, Rangers, 1940s libraries, 1940s maternity and baby wear, and other inspiration for the story.

  Acknowledgments

  What a privilege and an honor it is to finish my fourth series. I have been blessed to have had the same editors (Vicki Crumpton and Kristin Kornoelje), same agent (Rachel Kent), and many of the same marketing and publicity experts for all twelve books. I’m thankful for each of you and for all you do, and I’m thrilled that we’ll be able to work together in the future.

  Thank you to reader friend Corinne Reynolds, who contributed the name Gene Mayer in the pre-order campaign for When Tides Turn. Corinne said, “I’d love to name a character after my grandfather, Gene Mayer, who served during the occupation of Japan at the end of WWII. He passed away a few years ago, but I would be delighted to honor his memory in this way.”

  Thank you to writer friend Janice Laird, who sent me tons of resources on Camp Forrest and Tullahoma. I appreciate your friendship.

  Many thanks to Katherine VonWert of the Coffee County Lannom Memorial Public Library in Tullahoma, Tennessee, for fielding my questions about the library in Tullahoma during World War II.

  One of the greatest joys in my research for this story was wandering into the historic Couch’s store in Tullahoma. There I met Candy Couch, great-granddaughter of the founder, “Daddy Billy.” For well over an hour, Candy told stories upon stories, showed me historical photos, and told me what was what in town. Many of her tidbits found their way into this novel—but not nearly as many as I would have liked! Of course, I had to work the store into my story.

  And thank you to my readers! I appreciate your messages, prayers, and encouragement. Please visit me at www.sarahsundin.com to leave a message, sign up for my email newsletter, read about the history behind the story, and see pictures from my trips to England, Normandy, and Tullahoma. I hope to hear from you.

  Discussion Questions

  The actions of the US 2nd Ranger Battalion on Pointe du Hoc on D-day have fascinated many. Were you familiar with this event? What did you learn from Clay’s experiences on D-day?

  “Books are weapons in the war of ideas” was the motto of the Victory Book Campaign in World War II. The VBC and the Armed Services Editions are credited with creating a generation of readers. What interested you about Leah’s experiences in a base library and with the VBC? How have you seen this motto to be true?

  Clay firmly believes he will die soon. How does this affect the decisions he makes, for better or worse? Would you like to know how much time you had left? Would it change how you live?

  More than anything, Leah longs for family and belonging. How does this drive everything she does? How does this desire shift as the story progresses? What do you think of her insight in the last line of chapter 41? In our fractured society, have you found family in unusual places?

  Clay sees parallels between his life and the biblical story of Joseph. What similarities do you see? Are there any biblical characters you’re drawn to? What is it about their stories that you relate to or draw strength from?

  Leah tells Clay, “Words make delightful playthings. They cost nothing, they never wear out, and no one can ever take them away from you.” Do you have a hobby that gives you the same joy as poetry gives Leah?

  Throughout the story, Clay is torn between his natural desire to heal and his need to go to combat. What do you think of his struggle? Do you think he makes the right decision at the end of the book?

  Leah has trained herself to respond to pain by focusing on the good. How does this help her cope? How does her attitude help Clay? Could there be negative consequenc
es of relying on this coping technique?

  Clay believes he’s forgiven his brothers, then comes to realize his forgiveness stops at the surface. What did you think of his journey toward forgiveness and reconciliation? Did his insights spark any realizations in your life? They certainly did in mine!

  When Leah volunteers with the orphans, she enjoys being on the giving end of charity for once. How does her volunteer work cause her to grow? What do you think of her declaration that her background makes her the best type of person to work with orphans?

  What did you think about the pain Will and Lupe Paxton experience due to their sons’ sins and estrangement? Do you agree with how they act toward their three sons? Would you have done anything differently?

  The story of the Prodigal Son plays out in each novel in the Sunrise at Normandy series. When Clay realizes he’s the Prodigal’s elder brother, how does this affect his relationship with his brothers? Have you ever been the “elder brother”?

  Leah’s lifelong dream has been to find her sisters, but she faces an ethical decision when she finds them. Do you agree with the choice she makes? Why or why not? Did the old attitudes toward orphans and adoption surprise you?

  “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven” (Eccles. 3:1). How does Clay’s acceptance of this help him weather unpleasant seasons—and embrace pleasant ones? Have you experienced this in your life?

  Leah has worn a lot of negative labels as an orphan, many of which she believes. Over the course of the story, this changes. Have you ever been assigned labels? Do you accept them or reject them?

  If you read The Sea Before Us and The Sky Above Us, what did you think about the continuation of Wyatt’s and Adler’s stories?

  Sarah Sundin is the bestselling author of The Sea Before Us and The Sky Above Us, as well as the WAVES OF FREEDOM, the WINGS OF THE NIGHTINGALE, and the WINGS OF GLORY series. Her novel The Sea Before Us received the 2019 Faith, Hope, and Love Reader’s Choice Award, When Tides Turn and Through Waters Deep were named to Booklist’s “101 Best Romance Novels of the Last 10 Years,” and Through Waters Deep was a finalist for the 2016 Carol Award and won the INSPY Award. In 2011, Sarah received the Writer of the Year Award at the Mount Hermon Christian Writers Conference.