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YOU are the reason we do what we do here at Barbour Publishing. We promise that we will always use our God-given talents to produce content with you in mind—and that we will remain biblically faithful, no matter what. Thank you for being the heart of our business. War-Torn Love ©2026 by Angela K. Couch Print ISBN 979-8-89151-447-8 Adobe Digital Edition (.epub) 979-8-89151-448-5 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted for commercial purposes, except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without written permission of the publisher. Reproduced text may not be used on the World Wide Web. No Barbour Publishing content may be used as artificial intelligence training data for machine learning, or in any similar software development. Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental. Cover design: Hannah Linder Designs Cover image: © CollaborationJS / Trevillion Images Published by Barbour Publishing, Inc., 1810 Barbour Drive, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683, www.barbourbooks.com Our mission is to inspire the world with the life-changing message of the Bible. Printed in the United States of America.
De dicat ion To Jonathan–my greatest inspiration and support.
Ack nowl e dgm e nt s A huge thanks to everyone who helped bring this story to the page. To my husband, who not only listens to me prattle on about characters and plots but makes sure I have time to write and braves my first drafts. To my children, who put up with me when I’m lost in my imagination. To the Cardston Scribblers for talking shop and offering encouragement and advice. To my editors at Barbour who believed in me and this story and polished it into something fine. To God, who fills in where I lack and gave me this story to write.
For the Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart. 1 Samuel 16:7 kjv
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C hap t e r 1 Lamar, Colorado–April 1946
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o more years, months, days, or even hours separated Evelyn Watson from the boy she loved. Only minutes. She strained to make out the identities of the soldiers on the train despite the steam and smoke stinging her eyes. With the support of her father’s arm, she pushed onto her tiptoes. Frank and Andrew Hardy sat together in one of the passenger cars, and Luke Macey filled the open window behind them. So many she recognized. . . But no Gabe. The train screeched to a halt, and the doors opened like faucets. Uniformed men stood out among the passengers that streamed from the cars onto the platform where they merged with townsfolk to become a sea of faces. For the past eleven months, the local boys and men had trickled home from Europe and the Pacific, but this was the largest group yet. It seemed the whole town had come to welcome them. Gabe had telephoned his parents from New York, and then Chicago, telling them he’d be on this train. He had to be on this train. Pulse hammering, Evelyn slipped her thumb to the ring Gabe had given her on the day he’d enlisted. Her mind clutched the image 7
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of the lanky redhead as he’d dropped to a knee on her front porch. After four years, she’d finally be back in his arms. No longer an ocean between them, no need for silly attempts to bridge the distance with letters, no more dread at each lull in his writing, no wondering if he was safe. Or if he was dead. Gabe Bailey was home. All she’d prayed for. Giddy excitement scampered through her, pushing her again to her tiptoes. A tug on her arm pulled her back down. “There are Gabe’s parents.” Phyllis, her eighteen-year-old sister, yanked her across the platform, though how she’d managed to locate them remained a mystery. The pastor and his wife, Henry and Miriam Bailey, searched the train, not noticing the sisters until they were next to them. Mrs. Bailey grabbed Evelyn’s hand. “Have you seen Gabriel yet?” Evelyn shook her head, not bothering to compete with the cheers and shouts igniting the air. With Gabe’s height and fiery hair, finding him shouldn’t be difficult. But what if he didn’t arrive today after all? She’d go mad! Phyllis burst into a fit of giggles. “Evelyn. . .he’s right there.” Evelyn turned to her. “Where?” She spun back to scan the area she’d been searching moments earlier and accidentally elbowed one of the returned soldiers in the arm. “Sorry.” She glanced at his face as he removed his officer’s cap, a mess of dark auburn beneath. He grinned at her. His honey-brown eyes shone. Those, she knew. “Gabe?” “Evs.” His arms drew her against his broad chest clad in olive-green wool. He filled out this uniform much better than the one he’d left in. He also seemed taller. Still, he ducked his chin, cradling her head right where it belonged. Evelyn inhaled the scent of his neck. Even that had changed. More masculine, more mature. But then, so was everything about him. Could this really be the boy she’d said goodbye to? Gabriel Bailey was every bit a man now. A squeal of delight pierced her ear. His name buzzed around her, 8
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on the lips of everyone in the immediate area. Gabe pulled away to embrace his mother, giving Evelyn a moment to catch her breath. Pastor Bailey clapped him on the shoulder. “Welcome home, Son.” Not fully releasing his mother, Gabe extended the hug to his father. He opened his mouth like he wanted to speak but instead tightened his hold and swallowed hard. When his parents stepped back, Phyllis attacked him, throwing her arms around his neck. “Look at you, Lieutenant Bailey! At last Evelyn can stop moping around the house.” She planted a kiss on his cheek. “We’re glad you’re home, brother.” Evelyn nudged her younger sister, face heating. Gabe turned her way, and his smile grew. “And I’m able to stop moping around Europe.” His fingers ensnared Evelyn’s, and he pulled her with him as the group moved from the jostle of the crowd toward the parked automobiles. “We should leave while we have the chance.” Mrs. Bailey squeezed her son’s other hand and glanced at Evelyn’s parents, who’d somehow caught up with them. “Evelyn can come with us. We’ll meet at our house.” Her father nodded and led Mom and Phyllis to their car at the opposite end of the lot. Gabe slid into the back seat of the Baileys’ dark blue Dodge Deluxe and again drew Evelyn after him. She settled beside him and took a deep breath, not sure when the last one had been. Maybe that was why her head spun. Gabe’s warm hand engulfed hers, but moisture gathered on her palms. She untangled her fingers from his and wiped them on the blue and white polka-dotted fabric of her dress. Gabe inclined toward his parents in the front seat. “I can’t believe I’m finally home.” His voice rumbled from his chest. “After a while, life here seemed more like a dream than reality. Even now, it’s surreal.” “We feel the same.” His father steered the car around a group of pedestrians hurrying to meet the crowds. “The war ended, VE Day came and went, and we waited to hear when you’d come home. The months have dragged by.” “There was a lot of military and political cleanup in Germany.” 9
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Gabe sighed. “There still is.” Mrs. Bailey twisted to look at her son. “I hear it’s quite a mess over there.” “An understatement. Between British and American air raids and the Soviets artillery, Berlin has been reduced to heaps of rubble. Women and children scrounging for food, their men dead, prisoners, or cripples.” He leaned his elbows on the bench seat in front of him. “It’s going to be another hard year for them—for all of Europe.” Evelyn stared at his back, uncertain of what to do with the urge to run her hand across those broad shoulders, to soothe him. They’d been friends for most of their youth and had gone steady through high school. She wouldn’t have hesitated in the past. But as much as she still loved him, she couldn’t push aside the peculiar sensation of being on a blind date. She hardly recognized him. What girl didn’t recognize her own fiancé? She placed her hands in her lap. Gabe settled into the seat beside her and snagged her gaze. Those eyes still melted her insides, though even they hadn’t returned unscathed. She searched them, trying to see past the shades of brown and flecks of gold. Anticipation, sorrow, and. . .fear? He slipped his arm around her, and she leaned into his shoulder. For now, this was enough, to listen to the regular thud of his heart. He was alive and safe. Nothing else mattered. Evelyn closed her eyes, and a much younger Gabe filled her mind—the image of him that had kept her company all these years. “Hey, Dad, can you pull over here?” Gabe straightened. “I’d like to walk the last few blocks.” He turned to Evelyn. “If you’re okay with that.” She nodded. A walk might be what they needed. Time alone. To talk. “I’d like that.”
They walked the first block in silence, hand in hand. Gabriel looked down at the ring Evelyn wore—his ring. Did it mean everything it had when he left? She seemed detached, but perhaps she simply felt overwhelmed. He certainly did. Especially when he thought of the 10
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things he had yet to tell her. And explain. A high-pitched horn blared. Gabriel jerked, heart lurching into action. A family from church waved as they drove past, and he forced himself to return the gesture. Deep breath. He let the air slide between his teeth. The invisible band around his skull cinched tighter. He glanced at Evelyn and the deepening color in her cheeks. She had always blushed easily. Like when he’d shown up at her front door for the first time in army green. They were supposed to graduate together, but he hadn’t been able to stand the wait anymore. Knowing it was only a matter of time before the draft found him, he’d taken matters into his own hands. And then he’d proposed, her mother and sister standing in the doorway behind her and more than one neighbor looking on. The red washing over her face had only made her prettier, but nothing compared with the grown woman beside him now, her locks just as strawberry blond and her blue eyes searching. Gabriel faced her and let his finger smooth down the soft slope of her jaw to the small cleft in her chin. Her lips parted. He leaned in. “Gabe. . .” Evelyn tipped her head away. Her blue gaze darted to the street as another car passed. “Not here.” Gabriel tightened his grip on her hand. “Come on.” With quickened pace, he led her down the next street and into an alley. “Where are we going?” He stopped and glanced back to make sure there was no traffic. The roadway sat silent. “Somewhere with a little more privacy.” Before she had a chance to do more than raise an eyebrow, Gabriel braced her shoulders and covered her mouth with his own. The longing and loneliness of the past four years added fervor to their kiss as he wrapped his arms around her. Evelyn’s fingers slid along his scalp, combing through his hair and dislodging his hat. It fell off his head, and she tried to pull away. He wouldn’t let her. It wasn’t as though an MP could rebuke him for an incomplete uniform. He felt her smile, which faded into the intoxicating caress of her lips. . .and the taste of salt. 11
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Gabriel withdrew enough to see the tears rolling down her cheeks. Without giving him a chance to wipe them away, Evelyn folded her arms behind his neck and pressed her head against his shoulder. “You came back.” He buried his face in her waves, every bit as silky as he remembered but now smelling of lemon. “Oh, Evs, please tell me this isn’t a dream.” “So much better. It’s real. You’re here. And you haven’t really changed, have you? Not in any way that matters, I mean. You’re still my sweet, wonderful Gabe. Nothing has changed.” She said it as though trying to convince herself. Or pleading for confirmation. His stomach twisted, and he pressed his lips into her hairline. “How I feel for you hasn’t. It’s only grown. I love you.” So much that the thought of letting her go chilled his blood. Evelyn peered up at him. “And I love you.” Her eyes glistened, but she smiled. “I’ll admit, I was worried when your letters got so sparse last summer. I began to wonder if maybe your feelings had changed. I mean, look at you. You’re taller and. . .” Her gaze wandered the breadth of his chest. Life in the army had added a generous measure of muscle to his once-lanky frame. “You could have your pick of any girl in town.” “I did have my pick.” He kissed her nose. “I always had the most beautiful girl. And you don’t know what it means to a fellow to know that the woman he loves liked him even when he was scrawny and awkward.” Evelyn shook her head. “I always thought you were handsome.” He had to kiss her for that. Long and slow. “Then you still mean this?” Evelyn held up her left hand. Gabriel stared at the simple band and its tiny diamond—all he’d been able to afford at the time. “ ’Course I still mean it. I want to marry you more than anything.” The mere thought of holding her and waking to her kisses burned through him. To treasure her. To provide for her. To create a family with her. . . “Then let’s not wait. I feel like our lives have been on hold for too long.” His Adam’s apple seized in his throat. “Don’t you think we should take some time? I mean, to get to know each other again. To make sure this is what you want.” “Then you’re not sure?” Her hands lowered to her sides. 12
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Gabriel pinched his eyes closed, a meager attempt to press back the growing pain between his temples. “You are the only thing I’ve ever been sure about.” He met her gaze. “But how can you be sure about me? I’m not even that.” “What do you mean?” He wanted so badly to smooth away the dimple of concern between her eyebrows. “You asked if I’ve changed.” Gabriel stooped to pick his cap up off the ground, taking his time to dust aside a sprig of dried grass. “There were some pretty awful things going on over there. As much as I’d like to say I didn’t let it affect me, I’d be lying.” Weariness laid itself upon him. The journey home had been a long one, and he’d not slept well for any of it. That only added to the deeper dread that had worn him thin over the past months. “I have some things I need to sort through. And then, if you decide you still want me—” “Of course I’ll still want you.” Evelyn took his hat and placed it on his head. “I want to help you, Gabe—to be at your side every step of the way.” She kissed him. “Let me do that for you.” Gabriel hauled her back into his embrace. They needed to talk soon, and he would tell her everything, but not today. He wasn’t ready to scale that mountain or risk plummeting off the other side. He wanted to hold her longer, to feel her warmth that made him believe maybe she did love him enough. . .to forgive.
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C hap t e r 2
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abriel stepped back into the house, his gaze going directly to his father, who remained in his overstuffed chair. At least that hadn’t changed. Actually, not much in their home had. The same geometric-patterned rug covered most of the living room floor. The same clashing blue floral sofa resided over it. “Where’s Mom?” Both his parents had said their farewells to the Watsons in the house before Gabriel walked Evelyn to her family’s car. Their goodnight kiss had been brief but still lingered on his lips. “In the kitchen. She wanted to finish tidying so we could visit a little while.” Dad adjusted the glasses on his nose. “You don’t know how hard it was on her to share you this afternoon. But we figured you wouldn’t be of much use to us unless you first spent time with Evelyn.” “I appreciate that.” Gabriel dropped onto the sofa and yanked at the buttons on his collar. He was ready to be out of uniform. For good. “Though I don’t know if I’m going to be of much use to Mom tonight.” After getting the collar loose, he leaned his head back and stared up at the ceiling. “That light fixture needs dusting.” “I’m sure your mother can find you a rag tomorrow.” Dad chuckled. “I imagine you’re in need of a good night’s sleep first.” That was the truth. “If I could be certain of actually sleeping, I’d be there already.” Gabriel set his hand on his leg, trying to ease its nervous vibration. “I need to talk to you.” 14
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“As your father, or as your pastor?” The muscles in his jaw involuntarily tightened, as did his gut. “Both.” Dad watched him for too long before standing. “Why don’t you go in and say good night to your mother. Meet me in my study when you’re finished.” “Yes, sir.” Best to get his man-to-man with his dad and his counseling session with his pastor over. Maybe then he’d be able to sleep. The way the pain in his head grew with each hour, becoming a spear through both temples, Gabriel certainly hoped so. He made his way across the area rug and pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen, where marbled linoleum greeted him along with the subtle aroma of garlic and yeast. Mom glanced up and smiled. “I’ll be just one minute more.” Her towel sped, drying the blue flowered plate she held before she placed it on the stack in the cupboard. Gabriel stepped to her side and found another towel. Not even the kitchen had been reorganized since he’d left. The dishcloths sat neatly folded exactly as he remembered them, though more worn. His finger found a small hole. “I’ll help.” “You don’t need to do that.” She patted his arm. “You’ve had a long day.” She likely had no idea how long the day had truly been, extended over so many restless nights of traveling, but the anxiety of spilling his guts to Dad displaced the need to rest once again. Gabriel took a glass and wiped it down, but his gaze remained on his mother. “It’s been a long day for you too.” Had her hair shown any white before? From a distance it hadn’t been obvious, but now streaks of snow stood out among the faded red. “It’s been a long four years for all of us.” “But now it’s all over and you’re home.” She set her towel aside and wrapped him in an embrace. “I’m sorry I put you through that, Mom.” “You did what you felt you had to do, and in the end, you probably wouldn’t have been given the choice. I’m just glad it’s over. After your Aunt Lillian wrote me about Hiram, I—” Gabriel jerked back. “What about Hiram?” He’d only seen his cousin a week at a time during the summer on his family’s horse farm 15
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in Montana, but they’d been born the same month so had always shared a special bond. “Oh, Gabriel. I forgot you didn’t know.” Her tone suggested the worst. His throat closed in. “What happened?” “Hiram was killed.” Mom’s eyes shone. “I hesitated to put it in a letter at the time because you were already going through so much. It happened a few months after Normandy, halfway to Germany.” Gabriel lowered the glass back onto the counter and pressed his hand over his eyes. He sucked deep breaths into his lungs. He’d breathe through this, just like all those other times. Still, the loss of his cousin lanced him. “How’s Aunt Lillian holding up. . .and Trina?” He could only imagine how much worse it was to lose a sibling. “Hard to know through letters. But they have faith.” Closing his eyes against the burn, Gabriel nodded. Faith. That was what really mattered. If only he hadn’t let his slip away.
Almost an hour passed before Gabriel made it to his father’s office. Books lined the back wall, four large bookshelves side by side. In front of them stood the desk where his father prepared most of his sermons. He sat with his Bible open. Gabriel moved to the chairs facing the desk. He chose one tucked in a corner, behind another. Maybe he would be able to shield himself from what he knew would come. Not likely. Dad looked up, brows rising. “Trying to hide?” Gabriel shrugged. Then sighed. He’d thought about this for months. It was too late to turn back—or hide. He moved to the closest chair and shifted it so his knees bumped up against the desk, directly in front of his father. “Better?” Instead of answering, Dad passed him a spare Bible, one he kept on hand for when he counseled folks. “What’s this for?” “I think we should start with scripture. I know you’re tired, but 16
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something is weighing on your mind, and maybe this will help. You endured a lot over there. We only got brief newscasts and reports in the paper, but we followed you in Italy, and then through Normandy, scratching your way to the heart of Germany. There are some things you will carry with you—in your memory and your heart—for a long time. Probably for the rest of your life. I want to make sure you know you don’t have to carry this burden alone.” He motioned to the Bible. “Matthew, chapter eleven, twenty-eight through thirty. Will you read that?” Gabriel flipped through the book as directed. He recognized the verses even before he started reading, and again his throat tightened. “ ‘Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.’ ” He blinked back a surge of hot moisture as he returned the Bible to the edge of the desk. “I’ve been trying.” “And?” “I know in my head that He can forgive me and strengthen me, but deep down I can’t help wondering why He’d want to. I was taught better. He expected more of me.” “Gabriel, you were doing your duty. God understands that.” He shook his head. A tear slipped from his eye, and he pressed his wrist over it. He was too tired to have this conversation tonight. “It’s not that, Dad. It was after the fighting was over. I mean, it did get really rough, and I guess that’s where it started. I needed an out. I couldn’t get away from the images and thoughts. I’d had enough. Drinking seemed to help everyone else, so I tried a glass, then two. A cigarette. Another drink. By the time we were stationed in Berlin, I didn’t care what kind of alcohol they handed me. Anything to dull my mind. To make it easier. I became somebody else. I knew I shouldn’t drink so much, but I didn’t care.” Gabriel looked back at his father, his pastor, the one who’d tried to teach him what it meant to be a good man. Even the name they’d given him. Gabriel—man of God. He expected to see disappointment, but concern was all he found. “How are you doing now?” 17
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“You mean, am I still a drunken mess?” Gabriel’s laugh broke with the shaking of his head. “I haven’t touched any alcohol in over nine months.” He wiped his palm across his face, memories resurfacing, turning his insides cold. “I don’t want to be that man.” Relief lit his father’s eyes. But it was too soon for that. Gabriel wasn’t done. He was ashamed of that behavior, but he knew God’s mercy had made it possible to walk away from what might have become crippling addiction. That wasn’t what clogged his windpipe, making it difficult to speak. “There’s more, Dad. . .”
“Mrs. Gabriel Bailey.” Evelyn stared at the simple gold band and twinkling stone. Gabe was home, and the ring fit just right. Soon they would decide on a wedding date. The door swung open, and she jerked her hand down. Phyllis slid to a stop halfway into the room. “Why aren’t you ready?” “You could’ve given me warning before barging in.” Not that she ever did. “That has nothing to do with your lack of attire.” Evelyn eyed the mirror and pushed out a breath. “I can’t get my curls to sit right.” She wouldn’t specify how many times she’d pinned her hair only to take it down a minute or two later. “You look fine. Put on your dress, or we’ll be late.” Evelyn glanced at the clock on her bedside table and groaned. Gabe would be there by eight o’clock. Ten minutes. “Gabe would think you’re beautiful even if you still wore curlers.” “It’s just, we never made it to our graduation dance and I. . .” Evelyn couldn’t keep her lips from tipping downwards. “I guess I’m being silly. Go ahead. I’ll be down in a minute.” Phyllis hesitated at the door before slipping away. Evelyn plucked the brush from the vanity. Several strokes smoothed wayward locks, but her curls hung flat. She tossed the brush aside and stood. She took the dress from where she had laid it on her bed, stepped in, and worked the zipper up her back. A little bit of finagling, 18
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and it was done. Evelyn smoothed her hands over the dainty, dark blue leaf pattern contrasting a backdrop of white. Five thin navy ribbons enhanced the waist. She’d bought the dress six months ago with this night in mind, and it had hung in her closet ever since. Waiting. An eternity of waiting. Moving forward didn’t quite seem real. A knock sounded at her door. “Yes?” This time Mom stepped into the room. “Phyllis said you might need a hand with your hair.” She moved to the vanity table and took up the brush. “You’ve always been the independent one. I didn’t think to ask if you wanted help.” She waited for Evelyn to sit. “What is your vision for tonight?” “Elegant.” Evelyn shifted on the stool. “I was still a girl when he left. I want him to see me as a woman.” “I don’t think you have to worry about that, sweetheart. Gabe has become quite the man, though, hasn’t he?” Evelyn closed her eyes—his image never far from her mind. But not the right image. She was still getting used to how much he’d grown. “He’s always been a wonderful man.” “You have some curls left. I think we can still make them work for us.” Mom began pinning wavy locks into place, haloing the back of Evelyn’s head. “I’m afraid I brushed most of them out. I might as well have not bothered with curlers.” Motherly fingers squeezed her shoulder. “Have you and Gabe talked much about your plans yet?” Evelyn met the older and wiser gaze in the mirror. “I’ve tried to. He’s hesitant. Not because he doesn’t love me.” She almost shook her head, but her mother’s hold on her hair kept her still. A shrug worked just as well. “He’s worried about finding employment and preparing for college. He still hopes to pursue a law degree, and he’s always liked having the future worked out in detail.” Unfortunately, she sensed more than a job and academics held him back from making plans with her. “That seems reasonable.” Mom moved toward the front, hands 19
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still busy. “Though, after seeing you tonight, he may quicken his pace.” As her mother stepped away, Evelyn faced the mirror. Not a stray hair, and two dainty victory rolls crowned her temples. “Thank you, Mom.” She started to her feet, but her mother sat her back down. “Not quite yet.” Withdrawing her hand from her apron pocket, Mom produced two pearl earrings and a matching necklace. “Your dad bought these to give to you for your graduation, but when Gabe left and you decided not to go to the celebrations, I worried they would only make you more disappointed. We think you should have them now.” She fastened the necklace around Evelyn’s neck. Evelyn touched her fingertips to the dainty pearls. “Dad’s still in Denver?” As a pharmacist, he slipped away several times a year to attend seminars on the newest drugs and treatments. Thursday morning, he’d left for a three-day discourse on the success of penicillin and the groundbreaking studies on other molds—at least that was how he’d explained it to her. “He’s on his way home. Telephoned from the hotel an hour ago.” “I’ll thank him when I get home then. They’re beautiful.” “Just like you.” She pressed a kiss to Evelyn’s temple. “Gabriel Bailey is a fortunate man.” The motor of a car rumbled and halted just outside the house. “He’s fortunate I’m almost ready,” Evelyn said. But she was the one who felt fortunate—fortunate that Gabe had come home to her. Fortunate that God had sent her a father who not only loved her mother but loved her and Phyllis. Evelyn smiled. Gabriel Bailey was a good man too. War had wounded his spirit, but time and God’s grace would make him whole.
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C hap t e r 3
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abriel faltered on the bottom step of the Watsons’ redbrick home. The last time he climbed these stairs he’d been in uniform, a ring burning a hole in his pocket. Now he was back. If only he was that same innocent boy. The kind of boy—the kind of man—Evelyn deserved for a husband. “Soon,” he mumbled as he mounted the four steps. The longer he waited to articulate the truth, the more difficult it became. He constantly argued with himself that she needn’t ever know. For her own sake. And his too. His fist hovered inches from the door. How could he survive a lifetime at her side as her husband with this secret raw inside of him? Could it be worse than spending a lifetime without her? Stop it! He laid his fist to the door with three consecutive raps. Tonight. Tonight he would find a way to tell her. “Good evening, Lieutenant Bailey,” Phyllis sang out as she opened the door. She looked him up and down and frowned. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “You aren’t in uniform.” “I’m no longer in the army.” Strange to think she was about the same age Evelyn had been when he left. At the time he hadn’t realized how young that truly was. 21
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Blond curls bounced with the shake of Phyllis’ head. “Lots of the boys plan to wear their uniforms anyway.” “Only because they think it’ll make them more popular with the girls.” She beamed. “And they’re right!” “So tell me again why I need mine?” Gabriel said with a wink. “I already have the girl I want.” “You present a good case, which is why I really hope you’ll consider a different profession. How am I to ever win an argument once you’re a trained lawyer?” Phyllis gave an over-exaggerated sigh and straightened his tie. “Still, consider how much more starstruck Evy would be if you were in uniform.” “I don’t know, Phyllis. I got the feeling she’s just as ready to leave the army and the war behind us.” “Well, in my opinion, you looked better in your uniform, and I’m glad Fred promised to wear his.” She grinned at him. “But for the record, I’m glad the war is over and I finally get the brother I always wanted.” “And I finally get a sister.” Gabriel held his voice even. “ ’Course, I would have been happy with any sibling, so I’m not picky.” She slugged his arm. “Ouch.” “Don’t be ridiculous. That didn’t hurt. Besides, you know the only reason you’re marrying Evy is so you can be related to me.” Again, the impish grin, so similar to Evelyn’s. He chuckled, and some of the tension eased from between his shoulders. “You’re right, of course.” “Let the poor boy in the house, Phyllis,” Mrs. Watson hollered down the stairs. Her mouth forming a playful pout, Phyllis shuffled aside. “If I must.” As Gabriel stepped inside, he raised his gaze to the head of the stairs where Evelyn gave her mom a peck on the cheek. Both girls favored their mother’s fair complexion and blue eyes—not looking anything like their dark-haired father. Gabriel didn’t make it much farther as Evelyn smiled down at him. His breath slipped from his lungs, and 22
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by the time she reached him, his head felt a little light. He sucked in air that smelled of sunshine and lemon. “You’re beautiful, Evelyn.” He extended his hand, and she laid her soft fingers over his. “Thank you.” Light resonated from her face, her eyes brilliant and moist. “You look very well yourself.” Her ruby lips pursed. “Though it’s a shame you didn’t wear your uniform.” He frowned. Evelyn laughed and glanced at her sister. “I’m only teasing.” She touched his blue tie and then slid the backs of her fingers down the lapel of his deep brown suit. “I have no qualms with the way you look.” How’d he get so lucky? Gabriel ached to wrap her against him and kiss her, but what he had in mind wouldn’t be seemly with Mrs. Watson peering over their shoulders. He swallowed his desire, settling for a momentary brush of their lips. Evelyn’s cheeks appeared a shade rosier when he pulled back. “If you two are done gawking at each other, we should leave.” Phyllis grabbed his arm and tugged him to the door. “I told Fred we’d be there by five after eight. It’s already past that.” “Phyllis,” Mrs. Watson chided, “leave them be. It’s been four years since they’ve been able to gawk at each other. You and Fred will have to wait your turn.” Gabriel chuckled, taking Evelyn’s hand as she shot both her sister and her mother a look of exasperation. “Come along,” he said. “We wouldn’t want Phyllis to feel rushed when she gets her sights on that boy in his uniform. Then we’ll see gawking in its truest form.” He winced as Phyllis’ fist plowed into his bicep. The younger sister scuttled past him and through the door. “I think I’ve changed my mind about having a brother. I encourage you toward spinsterhood, Evy.” “Too late for that.” Evelyn followed. “We’ve been planning this for too long as a way to torment you. Haven’t we, Gabe?” “It’s true.” He grinned. Wow, he loved this family. And soon he would be a part of it. If God gave any heed to his prayers. 23
A NGE L A K COUCH
Low strains of clarinet mingled with the piano and several stringed instruments accompanied the couples across the school gym, requisitioned by the town to serve as their dance floor. The local band was doing its best to welcome the boys home and give sweethearts a chance to get reacquainted. Evelyn locked her gaze on Gabe’s face and etched it into her memory. The straightness of his nose, the length of his lashes, the thin scar near his ear that extended to the back of his jaw. She hadn’t noticed that until now. Gabe directed her as they weaved between other couples, but she tried to imagine it was just the two of them, and the moment was perfect. Following his lead, she twirled out and then into his embrace. His strong arms encircled her and held her captive against the firmness of his chest. “I don’t want to let go.” Gabe’s words warmed her ear. He kissed her lobe, sending a tingle through her. Evelyn leaned into his shoulder as the last notes of the song faded. The music died, and Gabe rotated her to face him. He held her gaze just as securely as he’d held her. “I love you,” he mouthed. She squeezed his hand three times. “And I love you.” His brows rose. “I forgot about that.” He returned the triple squeeze. I. Love. You. “Me too, until now.” Had four years stolen so much from them? They’d used that gesture all the time, especially in school. And church. “You’d reach over and tap my arm or squeeze my fingers.” Like Morse code—except exclusively theirs. “What else was there?” Evelyn paused while the band announced their next number. “Unfortunately, this is the only one I remember. Oh, wait. What about. . .” One slow, three quick, two slow. His brow furled. “Do it again.” She repeated the rhythm, suppressing a grin as she watched him think. “Come on.” “Let’s get out of here.” 24
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“Is that the answer, or are you suggesting something?” The band had picked up the pace with a swing number, and couples crowded past them. A stocky young man in uniform escorted Phyllis to the dance floor. Fred’s tall frame was nowhere to be seen. “Both.” Gabe clutched Evelyn’s hand and led her against the flow. “Let’s get some fresh air.” She didn’t resist, and soon they passed through the double doors and wandered away from the school. Evelyn gave three squeezes as she glanced at his face, but all mirth had fled his features. He looked strangely sad. A light breeze sent a chill over her skin. “Penny for your thoughts.” His lips thinned. “Thinking about what I’ve missed, all the changes the last few years have brought to this town. And people. My mom’s aged at least a decade.” “It was hard on her to have you gone.” And in almost constant danger. “You mean everything to her.” Just as much to me. “It’s like stepping through a gap in time or something. You come back with all the memories you held on to throughout the war, but everything’s changed.” Evelyn tightened her hold on his hand. “Even you.” “Even me.” “But not in the things that matter. Your humor. Your goodness. Your love.” She leaned into his arm. “You’re still my Gabe.” “I’m trying.” His gaze wandered, and his brows lowered. “But things were different over there. After a while, everything back here seemed more like something I’d dreamed up—not quite real. It sounds strange to say it now, but there were moments, dark moments, I wondered if I’d only imagined you.” When they reached the playground, Gabe released her hand. He moved to hold the swing for her. Evelyn hesitated and motioned to her predominantly white skirt. In the dark it was impossible to see how clean the seat was. The corner of his mouth pulled up. He withdrew the handkerchief from his breast pocket and laid it out for her. “Thank you.” She took hold of the thick ropes and leaned through to give him a kiss. Then two. 25