Return to Tomorrow by Marisa Carroll Read Free Book Online Page B

personalities were similar, jolly, good-natured, fearless, devoted to their church and their flocks. Only Father Pieter’s flock had been an orphanage in Saigon and Father Dolph’s consisted of ten thousand refugees crowded into a tiny valley in the hills of northern Thailand.
    â€œValentines? And only a week late.” Rachel held out her hands for the inch-thick stack of envelopes.
    â€œHere are two for you, Reynard.” Father Dolph handed over two white envelopes. Jean-Luc tried not to appear too eager to read his, a letter from his fiancée in Paris, Rachel surmised from a quick glimpse of the feminine handwriting on the envelope.
    â€œEnjoy your letters,” Father Dolph said, preparing to leave the building as quickly as he’d entered. He was always on the move, always between one task and another. “Rachel, could I see you in my office in about an hour?”
    She looked up from a comic Valentine note from the twins and smiled. “Of course. I believe Dr. Reynard won’t be needing me anymore this afternoon.” She glanced in his direction to make sure of his reply. He nodded absently, too engrossed in his letter to pay much attention to anything else.
    â€œYes. Yes. Thank you for your help with the lecture.”
    Father Dolph shrugged and crossed his hands over his heart. “Love,” he sighed, and laughed. Rachel laughed, too, but she didn’t think it was funny. Love. Once, long ago, so long ago it seemed like a dream, she’d been in love with a young naval aviator. She’d met Kyle Phillipsin Saigon while on leave from the field hospital where she’d been stationed twenty-five miles northeast of the city. He had swept her off her feet. They were married when Rachel finished her second tour of duty. The marriage lasted only a month before Kyle died in the wreckage of his jet fighter when it crash-landed on a carrier in heavy seas. Eight months later she’d returned to Vietnam, as a civilian nurse. When Saigon fell…the life she’d planned for herself after the war altered beyond imagining.
    â€œOne hour, Rachel, don’t forget.” Father Dolph’s tone was emphatic.
    â€œI’ll be there.” Rachel surfaced through layers of old memories to answer the priest’s request. “I promise.” She tilted her head, narrowed her eyes against the sunlight behind his back. “Unless you want me to come with you now.”
    Father Dolph grinned. “I don’t want to take you away from your letters.”
    Rachel laughed and even Dr. Reynard looked up at the sound, lilting, sweet, with a hint of lingering sadness that would never go away. “Yes, you do. Come on, what’s up?”
    â€œCome with me, I’ll show you. Jean-Luc, I’ll be back.” He waved one long hand in the doctor’s general direction. The doctor nodded absently and went back to his letter.
    â€œYoung love.” Father Dolph shook his head.
    â€œWhat do you want to see me about, Father?” Rachel asked, changing the subject. She knew she’d never find love again. She’d known that for a long time, yet atnight she sometimes dreamed, now, of a tall, blond man silhouetted against a jungle moon.
    â€œI have someone I want you to meet.” Father dodged a flock of chickens being chased across the path by three young boys, one of them hardly more than a baby and naked as the day he was born.
    â€œI hope it’s someone who types better than I,” Rachel answered, making herself think of the stack of paperwork on her desk and not of the man in her dreams.
    â€œI’m afraid not.” Father Dolph looked momentarily taken aback. “I’m sorry. I forgot you asked for someone to help you who could type.”
    Rachel bowed courteously to an old woman working among the vegetable plants in front of her hut. The camp was crowded, more a small city in size and population than a temporary home for war-weary