The Soldier's Bride Read Free Page A

Her heart beat in time with a loss she thought might never leave. She knew Jim wanted her to trade the music box so her heart would not be haunted by the song of his love, but it didn’t matter what material possessions she gave away, it wouldn’t rid her heart of the pain of Jim’s loss. She didn’t want to—wasn’t ready—to give up a love that had barely begun.
    She rocked her baby in the cradle until she felt a draft coming from the window. Stepping close to the sun-streaked pane, she saw it was open a half inch. Evelyn closed it tight, and the wind tapped against the glass once and then twice before turning back to blow in another direction. The wind seemed to know something that she didn’t. If only it could whisper what the next step was for her and Danny. Evelyn hummed and Danny smiled in his sleep, unaware of the past and with no concern for the future.
    ~*~
    The wind blew down the street to a two-bedroom house with a picket fence and a rusty tricycle in the yard. Leland Halverson nursed a bottle of beer in the back bedroom and looked at the empty spot on the wood floor where the cradle had been. He groaned, remembering those happy times when he could breathe without hurting. Leland had built the cradle for their baby girl, Jessie.
    He felt the current of air enter before he heard Rhonda’s light step in the kitchen.
    “Leland, I’m home. I traded the cradle for something special.”
    He winced, took a long pull from his beer, and tossed it in the corner. The glass shattered, and the amber liquid trickled over the pile of bottles he had consumed. No matter how much he drank, he’d still hear Jessie’s scream. He’d hear the haunting cry of his baby girl and remember that horrible day.
    He heard Rhonda move around the kitchen and then a clicking noise, like a windup toy. A melody—ethereal yet alluring—traveled toward him and filled the room. Rhonda must have left the door ajar, for Leland could still feel a light breeze moving down the hall. And for just a moment he thought he heard something besides music.
    The cool air sent a shiver through him. He cursed and slumped against the bedroom wall. The music continued to play and he rubbed his hand along the coarse stubble framing his jaw. He couldn’t remember the last time Rhonda had made him shower and shave. The whiskers on his cheek were matted. It must have been over a week.
    “Would you like to come in the kitchen?” Her voice was almost a whisper, but he still flinched. Rhonda stood in the doorway and Leland took a shallow breath.
    “Why?” He glanced at her and then back at the floor. He waited for his wife to answer that he stunk of liquor and needed something running through his veins besides alcohol, but she only sighed. Then he heard the wind blow the screen door shut and the music stopped playing.
    “I picked up something today I think Jessie would’ve liked.”
    Leland cringed and covered his eyes with his hand. Rhonda crouched beside him and touched his arm. “It will only take a minute. Come on.” She tugged on his sleeve.
    He curled his toes snug in his woolen socks and bit his bottom lip. Slender fingers grasped his hand and pulled. He looked up into the clear blue of Rhonda’s eyes and tried not to see Jessie there. She paused and he knew she was doing the same thing—trying not to see Jessie in the dimple under his left eye or the red highlights in his hair. She pulled again, and he allowed himself to rise with the momentum and follow her out of the bedroom.
    “I’m tired,” he complained as he shuffled down the hall.
    Rhonda turned around and looked at him. “Me, too.” She gave his hand a gentle squeeze and nudged him into the kitchen. “Here it is.”
    She pointed at the music box open on the table with a ballerina frozen mid-twirl. Leland swallowed, but his throat didn’t seem to be working right, his saliva caught and he choked. His chest burned, his eyes blurred, and still he was choking.
    “I need a beer.”