Abiding Hope: A Novel: Healing Ruby Book 4 Page 2

  “Oh, you do?” I managed to pull myself back to a sitting position as he dropped once again into the chair beside me. This time he almost seemed excited.

  “Listen here, my parents live in a great little section of Houston, and my youngest sister just married and moved out this past spring. They mentioned renting her room out.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. I’m not sure the stipend would be enough to cover rent.”

  “I’ll talk to them and explain things. They’d just love you. I’m sure they’d work something out.”

  I’d never been one to ask for help from folks. I’d been scolded for my stubborn independence countless times. Maybe it was time to accept the generosity being offered, but how could I leave Australia without Matthew and Henry? Maybe it was foolish, but I’d spent the better part of our time together refusing to listen to Matthew, and insisting on doing things my way. In his absence, the only thing I could offer was my promise to wait for him.

  Seeing the conflict within me, Mike took my hands and met my gaze with compassion. “I know this is hard. Just let me help. I’ll talk to my parents. I’ll keep up with everything going on in the Philippines and send you regular reports. And I promise you, Grace, if Matthew and Henry are alive, I’ll do everything in my power to find them.”

  Mike’s kind words warmed my aching heart, even though I knew he had no real means to keep his promise. “Thank you,” I said, my mind flitting back once more to happier times. Had I really once thought of this sweet man as an ape? My eyes burned, and my throat ached. “I reckon there’s nothing more that I can do anyhow.”

  “So you’ll go then? You’ll move in with my parents?”

  “Well, let’s not put the cart before the horse. You’ll need to speak with them. And I insist on paying some kind of rent.”

  “Of course,” he said, jumping to his feet. “I’ll get word to them right away. And I’ll make arrangements with Colonel Dorsey, too. You don’t worry about anything. You just keep yourself and that baby as healthy as you can.”

  I cradled my belly once more, saying a quiet prayer in my mind. Lord, please guard and protect all of us. Keep Matthew and Henry alive and bring them home. And if that isn’t Your will, grant me the strength to go on.

  Chapter One

  Ruby

  January 7, 1945

  Houston, Texas

  My journey from Memorial Hospital to the Sawyers’ house ended every day with a step off the bus, followed by approximately seven hundred thirty steps down Alabama Street. I found that ironic. Sometimes I actually talked to the street in my mind. Most folks might think I was crazy, but I liked to think it kept me from going crazy.

  Sometimes I asked the street if I should just pack up and head home. Let the Lord settle everything in my past the way He saw fit. Those were my braver moments. I pictured myself walking right into the courthouse and turning myself in to Sheriff Peterson. Underneath those thick black brows his eyes would nearly pop right out of his head.

  But those were the few days I amused myself on the walk home. Most days, I asked the street if I should write to Mother and Asa or the Doyle family. Maybe the army had sent them some information. I could write them a letter posing as someone else, another soldier who’d known them. But I’d chickened out every time I put pen to paper.

  By the time I made it to the Sawyers’ heavy oak front door, I was usually exhausted in both body and spirit. But today was different. Today, the sun had peeked out from behind the clouds, and reminded me of what a great blessing had come out of all my troubles. Today, I walked through the front door with a smile on my face.

  As I entered the foyer, the signs of a full house greeted me. Jackets were strewn over the coatrack, and shoes of all sizes and colors lay at its feet. Female voices chatted in the kitchen just around the corner. I assumed they belonged to Mrs. Sawyer and her daughter, Jillian.

  I headed that way, dropping my books, purse, and a small package on the dining room table as I passed by. I poked my head around the doorway to find mother and daughter standing near the stove. Mrs. Sawyer stirred creamed corn in a large skillet, while Jillian tore apart a head of lettuce beside her.

  Jillian saw me first and broke into a big smile. “Hi there, Grace! ’Bout time you got home.” I’d been going by the name Grace for about eight years now, and it still felt strange. Every time I heard it, a needle prick of shame came with it. She came over and hugged me, her protruding belly making it a bit difficult to reach her. “We were about to start without you.”

  “Oh, we wouldn’t do any such thing,” Mrs. Sawyer said, her eyes crinkling up behind her glasses. “Don’t listen to Jillian. She’s just gotten impatient waiting on that baby to pop out.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” Jillian said. “Any day now!”

  I eyed Jillian skeptically. “I don’t know. Looks to me like you’ve got a few more weeks in you.”

  Jillian’s blue eyes widened in horror. She shook her head, and her auburn curls bounced around her shoulders. “Don’t you dare say that! I can’t take one more day, much less another week or two!”

  We all had a chuckle as Jillian went back to the salad. “What can I do to help?” I asked.

  “We’re about done in here,” Mrs. Sawyer said. “Why don’t you go round up the rest of the family and tell them it’s time to eat.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I headed through the living room to the back door, opening it to the large backyard of the Sawyers’ home. I stepped onto the wooden deck and shielded my eyes from the sun. Off to my right, Mr. Sawyer stood next to the large fire pit, while glazing a hunk of meat over the fire.

  To my left, I heard the joyful little voice that I looked forward to the most every day. I walked down the steps onto the grass and snuck around the side of the house where Mr. Sawyer had put up a swing in the large oak tree. Mike stood behind her, giving her a gentle push.

  When she saw me coming, she squealed and nearly jumped off the swing in mid-flight. “Momma!”

  “Hope!” I yelled back, as if we hadn’t seen each other just the night before.

  I laughed as Mike caught the swing and helped her down. She ran over to me, and I lifted her into my arms. I nestled my face into her neck and gave her a kiss. My little miracle. “Mmm, you smell like lemon cookies.”

  She giggled as I put her back down. “Gamma gid me two!”

  “She did?”

  “Uh huh. It’s my bird day!”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes!” She bounced up and down. “Uncle Mike gid me a pwesent!”

  I glanced up at Mike, and he shrugged his broad shoulders. “It’s her bird day. What can I say?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “So what did you get?”

  She ran over to the tree and picked up a stuffed rabbit that had been leaning against the trunk. She held it in the air by its throat as she ran back to me. “See? See? It’s a bunny!”

  “I do see. What a perfect present!”

  I met Mike’s gaze as he glanced over at me. He was back in his dress blue uniform, reminding me it was his last day of leave before heading back to San Diego. “You look nice,” I said. “I bet the young ladies at church were fervently praying for your attention this morning.”

  He shot me a crooked grin. “I didn’t notice.”

  His eyes, blue like Jillian’s, studied me in that way he had, with an easy-going confidence. I turned my attention back to Hope. “It’s time to eat dinner. We best get everyone rounded up.”

  I took Hope’s hand and we strolled past Mike around to the back of the house again. Because it was such a nice day, Mrs. Sawyer had set the picnic table with plates and silverware. As Hope and I came up the deck stairs, Mrs. Sawyer and Jillian placed the last of the serving bowls on the table.

  “Now, where’s Harold?” Mrs. Sawyer asked.

  “I’m a-coming, Margaret!” Mr. Sawyer bellowed from across the yard. He was wrestling the meat onto a platter, his straw hat nearly falling
off in the effort. He straightened himself and proudly walked his prize over to the table.

  “Mr. Sawyer, that surely looks wonderful,” I said. “Wherever did you find meat?”

  He set the platter in the center of the table and beamed back at me. “I know a fella who owns a butcher shop, and he owed me a favor. Been waiting on a perfect shoulder roast for some time.”

  “This is too extravagant for Hope’s birthday. You really shouldn’t have.”

  “Oh, don’t worry over it a bit,” he said as we took our seats. “War’s coming to an end soon. I’m sure the rationing will too.”

  “Not soon enough,” Mrs. Sawyer said.

  Mr. Sawyer took no notice of her comment. “Let’s bow our heads. Lord, we thank You for this wonderful meal and all Your many blessings. We pray You’ll watch over Mike as he returns to his squadron, and that You keep them safe as they face the enemy. Be with George as well, Lord. Keep him safe in Your hands. We pray that we will remain patient and faithful as we wait for his return in Your time. We pray for Matthew and Henry as well, that they are safe and will come home to their families. Give us strength to trust in You. It’s in Jesus’s name we pray. Amen.”

  We sat down and began filling our plates quietly. I figured we each had someone on our minds we wished was there.

  Mike dipped a heaping spoonful of mashed potatoes onto his plate. “Mother, you worry too much. We got the Nazis on the run in Europe, the Japs on the defensive in the Pacific. Things will definitely be winding down this year. You’ll see. The war will be over by summer, tops.”

  I glanced over at Jillian and gave her an encouraging smile. Her husband, George, was stationed in Europe and wouldn’t be home for the birth of their first child. I could understand how hard that would be. I’d ached for Matthew to see his baby girl, and I’d spent many nights crying out to God for his safe return. At least Jillian knew her husband was alive.

  I fixed Hope a plate of food, trying to keep my thoughts from wandering to Matthew. She looked up at me with her daddy’s eyes, and like so many times before, I felt a stab of pain in my chest. It was the second birthday he would miss. Another year of Hope’s life he’d never know.

  How long, Lord? I thought. How long will You keep us waiting? Is he even alive?

  ***

  Later that afternoon, as I sat on the deck watching Hope play with her bunny in the yard, Mike came out with two glasses of sweet tea. I took one eagerly as he sat in the chair next to mine.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “No problem. Everything all right? You’ve been a bit quiet this afternoon.”

  “I’m all right.” I didn’t know what to say. Mike had done all he could to find out where Matthew and Henry might be. Talking it over was pointless. Instead, I watched Hope pull up a handful of grass and form the stalks into a small pile.

  She called over to me. “Momma! Look, I made bunny a bed.”

  “Very nice, sweetie,” I said.

  Mike didn’t say anything else until I’d sipped on my tea for a while longer. I could tell he was working up to his goodbye. It was never easy on any of us. He’d come home on leave several times while his squadron was stationed in San Diego over the past two months for training. But this time they were shipping out for somewhere in the Pacific. He had no idea when he might return.

  “Grace,” he said quietly. And from that one word, I knew we were about to have a conversation I’d been dreading for some time. “I need to ask you something.”

  I pushed myself up from my chair and grabbed our empty glasses. “I’m going to take these inside. Can I get you anything else?”

  He stood as well, gently taking the glasses from my hands. “There’s no more time for putting this off. I’m leaving in a couple of hours. We need to talk about this.”

  “Talk about what?”

  He set the glasses on the picnic table behind us. “Grace, it’s been over two years, almost three. There’s been no word on either of them.”

  “You can’t be sure of that. Henry’s mother, or maybe the Doyle family—”

  “I checked. I called the Doyles myself, and I wrote a letter to Henry’s mother.”

  “What?” My heart pounded. “You contacted my…I mean…” I had to take a deep breath. “You contacted Henry’s mother and the Doyles?” What if he’d said something about me?

  “Yes, a few months ago. I just didn’t know what to tell you.”

  “What did you say? What did they say?”

  He frowned and shook his head. “I told them I was a friend of Henry’s and Matthew’s. That I’d been stationed in the Philippines with them and wanted to know if there’d been any news on their location. Matthew’s sister spoke to me on the phone.” His eyes softened, and he rubbed his hand along my arm. “They received a telegram not long after we left Australia, Grace. The same one Colonel Dorsey gave you.”

  Hope bounded up the steps, shaking me out of my stupor. “Momma! Look! I’m a bunny!” She hopped back down the steps, rolling across the grass as she hit the bottom.

  “Yes, honey. I see.” My vision blurred. I lowered my voice when I spoke to Mike again. “And what about Henry?”

  “His father wrote me back. He said they’d received a telegram stating Henry was missing in action. That was all they knew.”

  He offered me a handkerchief, and I wiped at my eyes and nose. “His father? I thought his father passed away.”

  “I don’t know. His name was Asa Graves, so I just assumed.”

  “Why are you telling me this? It’s nothing new.”

  “That’s my point, Grace. There’s nothing new. Matthew is…he’s gone. You have to accept that. You can’t waste your life waiting on a ghost to come back to life.”

  “I’m not wasting my life. I have Hope. She’s all I need for now.”

  He turned his gaze on Hope, and we watched her hop across the grass with the stuffed bunny on one of her shoulders. “Listen, I love Hope. She’s like a ray of joy that just bursts into your heart, no matter what you’re feeling. She’s wonderful. But you’re using her as an excuse to keep from living your life again.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You aren’t even here most of the time. You can’t possibly know if I’m living my life or not. Besides, I work hard at my studies, and I have a daughter to take care of—”

  “And you are amazing at it all,” he said. “Mother brags on you all the time. I know you’re working hard. But who do you trust? Who do you share your life with?”

  I shook my head and turned away. “This is ridiculous. I thought you were trying to tell me goodbye, not how to live my life.”

  “I’m not trying to tell you how to live your life. I just want you to be happy.”

  “I am happy!” I said, a little too loudly.

  Hope stopped her playing and looked over at us with a curious frown. I forced a smile and waved at her, and she resumed her game. I turned back to Mike, determined to keep my cool. But he looked at me with a deep sorrow in his eyes.

  “Grace, I’m leaving, and I don’t know what’s going to happen out there. I don’t have time for…” He swore under his breath and turned away for a moment before regaining his composure. He faced me with a searching gaze. “Is there any chance for us? I mean…do you care for me at all?”

  “What? Of course I do. You know I do.”

  He let out a quiet moan. “That’s not what I mean. Look, I’m just going to be straight with you. When I’m out there on the other side of the world, I’ll be missing my family and thinking about home. But most of all, I’ll be missing you and Hope. Most guys carry around pictures of their wives or girlfriends with them. You know what I have?”

  I shook my head, unable to form any words.

  “I have a picture of you and Hope, the one you sent me after she was born. I can’t tell you how many guys say my wife and kid are beautiful. And all I can do is think about how much I wish that were the truth.”

  My throat ached, and I stru
ggled to find words. “Mike, please try to understand. I’m married to Matthew.” He threw his hands into the air, but I kept trying to make him see. “I can’t just give up on him. What if he’s out there right now, trying to get back to us?”

  “All right,” he replied, “I get it. I know you have to hang on to that possibility for now. But the war is coming to an end. MacArthur is taking back the Philippines as we speak. If he’s there, if he’s alive, then I’ll be happy for you and Hope. But at some point, if he’s not alive…then I hope you’ll consider giving me a chance.”

  We stood there in awkward silence for a while, with Mike’s confession still hanging in the air. I wanted to tell him how much he meant to me, how I’d appreciated his friendship and his love for us over the past three years. And maybe my feelings for him could one day grow, but I couldn’t let go of Matthew. Not yet.

  Mike shoved his hands into his pockets. “I should get going. Gotta give Mother at least a good ten-minute cry over me.”

  He looked down on me with gentle resignation, and I hated to send him off on such an awful parting. I slid my arms around his waist and laid my head against his chest. “Please be careful,” I said. “I couldn’t take it if anything bad happened to you too.”

  He hesitated, but wrapped his arms around me as well. “I’ll do my best.” Pulling me back, he kissed my forehead before calling Hope over and tossing her into the air as she squealed with laughter. Then he set her down and kneeled in front of her. “I have to get going, little bunny.”

  “When you coming back?” she asked.

  “Don’t know yet. Might be a few months.”

  “Where you going?”

  “To the jungle. Gotta go fight some bad guys.”

  “Are there bunnies in the jungle?”

  “If so, I’ll catch you one and bring it back.”

  Hope’s face lit up and her mouth dropped open. She looked up at me with wide eyes. “Can I have a weal bunny?”