A Sentimental Journey Romance Collection

by Dianna Crawford

  “Like you’re flying on air, like you’ve been running for a day and can’t catch your breath?” Kathe asked.

  “Something like that … yet I look at my parents, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen them like that.” Trudy frowned. “I don’t want to chase some dream that will only leave me heartbroken in the end.”

  “I’m sure your parents felt that way about each other, as did mine,” Kathe said. “We’ve just never seen them young and in love. Everyone starts somewhere.”

  “You’re right.” Trudy nodded.

  Kathe took her dress from the hanger and held it up to herself, studying her reflection in the mirror. “I prayed long and hard about Peter. He’d come home injured, and I knew that now was the time for us to marry. But I wanted to be sure that it wasn’t just me going all ‘hearts and flowers’ over the whole thing. One morning I woke up and I just … knew … beyond a doubt, that Peter was the man for me and I was ready to do everything I could to have a good marriage. And, here we are.”

  “Here you are.” Trudy smiled at Kathe. “Let me help you get dressed. We need to get you downstairs so you can have that long-delayed wedding.”

  Silently, she added, Lord, show me the way …

  Bradley watched as Trudy glided down the grassy lawn of the Zimmermanns’ main house. Her hair swept up into a pile of curls on her head. Her light pink dress skimmed her knees with a wide skirt, and her bouquet of fresh flowers from the garden made a pretty contrast.

  Her eyes met his, and a faint blush swept down her neck and toward her shoulders. What a two weeks it had been since taking up temporary residence in Fredericksburg. His first set of columns had won praises from Frank. That had earned him more time here.

  But time here would be coming to an end, regardless of how much Bradley tried to prolong it.

  “There’s a war going on, Payne,” Frank had told him. “I appreciate the fact you’ve brought a human interest angle to the stories about Fredericksburg and your family, but our readers always want something fresh and new. If it starts to get stale, I’m pulling you out of there for your own good.”

  “I understand, Frank,” Bradley had said.

  That conversation came roaring back into his memory as he watched Trudy pass by where he stood. He’d found a treasure here in this Texas town, a treasure of family and the promise of more with Trudy.

  The minister asked them to rise as Kathe Zimmermann walked toward the outdoor altar. She leaned on Hank’s arm. She made a beautiful bride, her dress simple yet just as elegant as any Bradley had seen in his travels. His grandfather gave him a slight nod as they passed.

  Grandfather. Opa. Thank You, Lord. Please don’t let me make the mistake my father did by pushing people away and running from people who love me. He didn’t know how to act with a family. He was used to keeping his own hours, his own time and schedule, without anyone except his editor to give him a timetable for anything. Now people were asking for him, wanting to be involved in his life. He’d never found himself in a family gathering like this.

  Kathe had asked if he wanted to read a scripture during the short ceremony. At first he declined, until his grandfather talked him into reconsidering. He could scarcely drag his gaze away from Trudy, who stood at her friend’s side. If there was any indication that she had dreary thoughts about this not being her own wedding day, Bradley didn’t see it. He did see the woman who’d stolen his heart. First, her talent and sense of adventure inspired him, but then he saw her love for her family and her town.

  “And now, a few words from Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians,” said the minister. He nodded at Bradley, who rose from his chair and walked to the small arbor. He took the open book that the minister held, already turned to the correct passage.

  He cleared his throat. “Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels …” The familiar poetic words of truth came from his lips. “Charity suffereth long, and is kind … beareth all things, believeth all things, endureth all things …”

  He allowed himself a glance at Trudy, whose gaze held his for a millisecond before she lowered her focus to her bouquet. A blush swept over her features.

  “When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.”

  Lord, help me, I’m in love with Trudy Meier.

  The rest of the ceremony ticked by without his conscious thoughts directed at the newly married couple. This wasn’t in his plans. What could he do now that his heart was held by a honey-haired photographer from a tiny Texas town? Certainly she talked about adventure and wanting to see the world. There were drawbacks. He knew them. Tough travel conditions, uncertain accommodations. There was occasionally some danger. He wasn’t guaranteed a permanent position at the magazine. What if he ever found himself out of work, with a wife to take care of?

  He knew Trudy’s mother had expressed a few objections to the idea of her only daughter being paired with a freelance journalist. He didn’t blame her. The practical part of him understood all too well. If it were his daughter, he’d want her tucked safely into the shelter of a town like Fredericksburg. But then, Trudy wasn’t a child, but a grown woman capable of making adult decisions.

  Someone nudged him. Opa Hank. “You going to hang back and not try to get a piece of wedding cake?”

  “Huh?”

  “You were anywhere but here, young man.”

  “Sorry. It was a nice ceremony. I’m honored that I was included.”

  “I know that the young Meier girl had your attention.”

  “Was it obvious?”

  “Of course it was.” His grandfather walked beside him in the direction of a long table filled with delectable dishes. Someone had baked a ham, another friend or family member had brought homemade sausage. Plenty of potatoes and garden vegetables. And—the cake.

  “Hello.” Trudy’s voice came from somewhere off to the side, close to his right shoulder.

  He turned to face her. “Hello, yourself. You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” She colored at his words. “It was a lovely wedding, wasn’t it? I’m glad you said yes to Kathe about reading the scripture. I know it meant a lot to her.” Trudy waved off a fly, who’d developed an interest in her bouquet.

  “It meant a lot to me, too. It’ll be one of my favorite memories of Fredericksburg and meeting my family.” He took a step closer to her.

  “You sound as if you’re leaving …” Trudy bit her lower lip.

  “Eventually, I am.” He tried not to put a damper on the day. “Okay, probably sooner than eventually. I knew I would be …” He didn’t add, and you did, too. The pain in her eyes almost made him wince.

  “I’d heard the rumors, but didn’t want to believe them,” a female voice said. Bradley didn’t know the woman who’d come to stand beside them. She looked to be a few years younger than Aunt Elsie, and she glanced from Trudy, to him, then back to Trudy again.

  “What rumors do you mean, Mrs. Schuler?” Trudy asked.

  “You’ve taken to running around town with this man who claims to be a Zimmermann, while my son—my only boy—is somewhere missing in Europe.” The woman’s eyes crackled with anger, but Bradley saw the fear inside them, too. One of his friends had gone missing after an air raid in London a year ago. No one had heard from him since. Sad, how life kept going even when someone’s sudden absence left a gaping hole.

  “I miss Kurt, too, and I wish he were here.” Trudy stood her ground. The words she said sounded odd. How much did she really miss him? Bradley couldn’t guess. Today wasn’t the right place or time, but eventually they’d have to square off and face each other, all cards on the table, and both of them would see what the other held.

  Chapter 7

  You ready for b
igger and better things, Payne?” Frank’s voice roared over the telephone line, the Wednesday following the wedding. “Genius, I tell you. Genius, profiling Nimitz and the town that helped him become the man he is now.”

  “I’m glad you’re happy, Frank.” Bradley had hunkered down, finishing the last of the series of articles featuring Admiral Chester Nimitz. A feeling like being stuck on the downward turn of a Ferris wheel entered his stomach. The day was coming when he’d be on his way, especially if he wanted to keep his job. Which, he did.

  “I’ve got something coming up, something big that This American Life has never tried before. It’s one of America’s next frontiers, and if all goes well, I’ll have you there in less than ten days.”

  “Ten days?” His own tone surprised him. Usually he was raring to go to the next assignment.

  Trudy had barely stopped by the last several days, especially since the Zimmermanns had sent him home well stocked with leftovers from the wedding. He missed her. But considering the latest developments, maybe it was best this way. If she wasn’t absolutely sure she could see herself having a traveling life—or even having a husband traveling much of the time like him.

  Husband … him, a husband? He’d only been here for the story … and his family—

  “Payne?”

  “Yes, Frank?”

  “Did you get what I just said? Because I have a feeling you didn’t hear me.”

  “So, you can have me there in less than ten days?”

  “Wind up the series. Get some photographs that we can use for a photo page, then hightail it up here to my office. We’ll give readers enough to expect that your next setting will be something they’ve only seen in the news reels. You can cool your heels before you ship out again.”

  “I understand.”

  “Don’t sound so glum. This is the chance of a lifetime.”

  “You’re right.” Bradley ended the call and set the phone back on its cradle.

  “Are you okay, Mr. Payne?” asked the shopkeeper.

  “Yes, yes I am. I’m going to be leaving sooner than I thought.”

  “Well, we’ve enjoyed having you in our fair town.”

  “Thank you, thank you. I’ve–I’ve enjoyed it as well.” He slid some cash across the counter to help pay for the long-distance phone call. “I’ll be back at some point, to see my grandfather and the rest of the family.”

  But back for Trudy—he wasn’t a hundred percent certain of that. In a perfect world, he would come swooping back and they’d have themselves a grand reunion.

  Trudy fumbled with the knife as she sliced the potatoes. Beef stew was the fanciest she could manage for a nice supper. She’d used garden tomatoes for the base and added fresh chopped vegetables from the garden. She’d bartered honey for a small end piece of beef from the butcher. Some people didn’t want to buy the cast-off pieces, but others knew how to coax the toughness from the end pieces after cooking the meat for hours.

  Bradley would enjoy this stew, or at least she hoped so. After the wedding, Trudy had done some long, hard thinking and praying. She loved Bradley, and it had hurt her the way Mrs. Schuler had talked to them. Yet she didn’t want him to misunderstand about Kurt. She realized that loving Kurt had been a first love. She didn’t think a first love had to be her only love.

  Mrs. Schuler, to give the woman credit, had apologized after the Sunday service. “I’m sorry for what I said to you at Kathe’s wedding, Trudy. You and your family have been a great support to mine. Kurt told me in a letter as well that you both decided not to marry. It’s just hard to see other people going on with their lives, when Kurt … when Kurt and his father and I have no chance to go on with ours.” Sobbing, she’d embraced Trudy and whispered in her ear, “I know Kurt will always love you.”

  Trudy hadn’t known how to answer the woman and even now, had no answer. She’d mumbled that she would be praying for them. All of Fredericksburg did a lot of watching and praying, it seemed.

  She gathered the diced potato from the cutting board and dropped it into the bubbling stew. Soon enough, the meal would be done. A fresh loaf of bread, wrapped in a dish towel, waited on the counter. Cookies would round out the meal.

  Within thirty minutes, she’d tucked a ceramic-covered pot of stew and the bread into the bicycle basket, plus her small battery-operated radio. It would be a clear night tonight, or at least she hoped so. Maybe they’d get a signal and listen to a show from Austin.

  It was the least she could do for Bradley, especially after his gift of the beautiful photography book. The gift had touched her to the core. She’d spent her free time studying it, learning where she intuitively made good composition choices, and other places in her developing that she could improve upon. She bumped along the road on her bicycle, her blouse sticking to her back. It had been a silly idea to try to look fancy for him tonight, as if they were going out. As a reward, she’d be hot and sweaty by the time she arrived at the Sunday house.

  Trudy pedaled along. The sight of the Sunday house’s open door made her heart sing. Good. Bradley was home. Before long, the shadows would be stretching and the sun going down. As if he knew she was approaching on her bicycle, Bradley emerged from the house and squinted. A grin spread onto his face when he saw it was her.

  “Hello there,” he called out as she glided to a stop on the hard-packed dirt, dust swirling around her tires.

  “Hi.” She popped the kickstand down, got the bicycle balanced, and pulled all the food from the bicycle basket. “I hope you’re hungry.”

  “Just a little.” He rubbed his stomach as he stepped off the porch. Bradley picked up the pot, while she gathered up the bread and the radio.

  “It’s beef stew, made with real beef,” she said as she followed him into the house. The single, open room felt cozy. They left the front door open and the breeze drifted in.

  “Real beef? I’m impressed.” Bradley pushed aside a stack of papers and set the pot on the center of the table.

  “I know we’re in Texas, but our beef has been going elsewhere the past couple of years. And most of us don’t ranch around here. We farm. However, I managed to secure some fresh meat.” She smiled and patted the top of the pot. “And if you don’t mind, I’m inviting myself to stay for supper.”

  “Of course you can stay.” He pulled out a chair for her. “Please, sit down.”

  “Why thank you.” Her heart sang. She knew he’d be leaving. He hadn’t mentioned it lately, but his rent was paid up for one more week.

  Bradley headed to the corner cupboard. “I must admit, I’ve missed you the past few days.”

  “I knew you had plenty of food after the wedding, when I saw Aunt Elsie packing a basket for you.” Trudy removed the lid from the stew and inhaled. Hopefully, it was as good as her mother’s.

  “Here. I have bowls and spoons.” He set one in front of her and kept one for himself. “Welcome to Payne’s Café, madame.”

  “Why, thank you, Mr. Payne.” She laughed. If only they could pretend there wasn’t a war going on. She served them each a bowl of stew, then divvied up the bread.

  “Oh Trudy …” Bradley reached for her hand. “I’m going to miss you.”

  “You’re leaving soon, aren’t you?”

  He nodded. “I talked to my boss today. I’m wrapping up the series and heading back to Washington early next week.”

  She’d been preparing herself for this, but even so, the edges of her heart crumbled. She tried to smile. “We—we can keep in touch.”

  “Of course we can.” Then he cleared his throat. “You know, I’ll be back to see my family, when I can.”

  “But you don’t know when that will be.” She blinked to clear her burning eyes. No, she wouldn’t let him see her tears. Not tonight. Tonight was supposed to be a night to remember.

  “You’re right, I don’t. But you can be sure I’ll be back to see my family, when I can.”

  “If you didn’t have family here …”

  “I’d still come
back, somehow.”

  Trudy nodded. “I’m glad. But—”

  “I can’t ask you to wait for me, though. That’s not fair to you.”

  “What if I want to wait for you?”

  Bradley sighed. “Even after the war, I’ll still travel a lot.”

  “I know.” Trudy fumbled with the spoon beside her bowl.

  He squeezed her hand. “I’ll ask the blessing over our meal.”

  Trudy nodded and bowed her head.

  “Lord, we thank You for this day. I thank You for this food. Bless the hands that prepared it, and strengthen us for Your service. Amen.”

  “Amen.” Trudy pulled her hand away from his. “Here, maybe we can find some music to play for supper, and we can pretend we’re somewhere exotic.” She almost sounded like a child, acting out make-believe.

  “That’s a great idea.”

  The strains of “Taking a Chance on Love” filled the air, with only a hint of static. They ate their stew, talked, and laughed. Trudy imagined that tonight was all they had, and refused to let her mind ponder the fact that Bradley was leaving in four days.

  All too soon, the stew was finished and the pot empty. The music kept playing. Thankfully, no news reports broke in to shatter the moment.

  “It’s probably cooler outside,” Bradley said. He stood and gathered the bowls together before she had a chance to reach for them. “I’ll clean this up later.”

  Bradley took her by the hand and led her outside. “Oh, my sweet Trudy … this is much harder than I thought it would be.”

  She wanted to tell him, Take me with you, please, but she kept silent. She wasn’t going to beg, or plead. Instead, she said, “I know. I feel the same way … what are we going to do?”

  He pulled her close into the circle of his arms and she responded in turn, listening to his heartbeat through his shirt.

  “Would you come with me?”

  Trudy opened her mouth, but the roar of a car’s engine bit through the twilight and made them both jerk apart. Trudy glanced toward the road. Her mother, behind the wheel of the family’s car.