A Memory Between Us by Sarah Sundin Read Free Book Online Page A

Ruth, “The Lord recompense thy work, and a full reward be given thee of the Lord God of Israel, under whose wings thou art come to trust.”
    The refuge of safety and comfort beckoned, but to enter that refuge required trust, and although Ma always said God was trustworthy, Ruth knew better. God hadn’t helped Ma keep the Doherty money jar full or provided the tuition for nursing school. Ruth had.
    “Ready for church?”
    May Jensen’s voice startled Ruth, and she flapped her Bible shut. “Oh. Not yet.” The invitation to walk together lurked in the air, and Ruth needed to swat it down. “Go on ahead.”
    “All right. I’ll save you a seat.”
    Now how could Ruth avoid sitting with May? She sighed and opened her Bible again. Although she had memorized the verse, she felt compelled to see it in print, to see the promised reward for hard work.
    “I’m sure your hard work will be rewarded some day,” Major Novak had said.
    Ruth groaned. He was not her Boaz. She didn’t have a Boaz.
    She stood to check the stockings on a line stretched between antique wall sconces. Nope, still damp, like everything in England. Like Ruth. She had to be damp in the head to let a patient get to her.
    The major had been discharged a week before, but she kept glancing at his bed, now occupied by a whiny bombardier with a mild case of frostbite, and kept remembering Major Novak’s humor and intelligence and chivalry. Today he was coming to church. Why couldn’t he be a good little patient and disappear when discharged?
    Ruth fingered her khaki rayon slip on the line, which also felt damp. What was wrong with her? Dashing pilots were as common in the area as mud, bicycles, and chipped beef on toast.
    Why did she waste time thinking about him anyway? Even if he were an ordinary man, dating was impossible. But he was better than ordinary. He was a pastor, for crying out loud. A pastor with Ten-Penny Doherty?
    A laugh ripped out. She clapped her hand over her mouth, but the room was empty.
    Ruth grabbed her Bible and strode down the hallway. Major or no major, she would always attend Sunday services, as she’d promised Ma before her death. In church she heard the hymns Ma used to hum. In church she heard the Scriptures Ma used to quote. In church she could see Ma’s face lit up even in the depths of adversity.
    Ruth opened the grand front door, and the sunshine made her eyes water. Ma had peace and joy because she loved the Lord and the Lord loved her. Ma was good, but Ruth was—
    “God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”
    Ma’s favorite verse. Ruth huffed. Not her. No matter how many times she prayed for forgiveness, her sin and punishment hung thick and black over her. God didn’t love her. He’d never shown—
    “Christ died for you. S’all you need to know.”
    She groaned and quickened her pace down the walkway. Major Novak, May Jensen, the Lord God—why couldn’t they leave her alone?
    No such luck.
    As soon as she entered the Nissen hut chapel, May pounced on her, took her arm, and dragged her down the aisle. “Jack saved seats for us.”
    “Jack?”
    “Major Novak.”
    She knew that, but since when did May call him by his first name? May led her to the spot Ruth usually occupied, and Major Novak stood and flashed a grin. How did she get distracted from her goal of avoiding her roommate and her former patient? How, how, how?
    The major was handsome enough in pajamas, but in full dress uniform—well, it just wasn’t fair. The khaki shirt and tie, the olive drab jacket and trousers, the gold major’s leaves on the shoulders, the silver wings and row of medals on the chest—they made any man look good, but this man didn’t need any help.
    Worse, she sensed a shift, a disturbing shift in position. In the hospital she’d stood over him, but here he stood over her, and the reversal of power cramped her throat.
    She lifted her chin to open her airway. “Good morning,