The Soldier's Bride by Rachelle J. Christensen Read Free Book Online Page B

tonight instead of a guitar pick.”
    They both laughed, and Sterling stopped playing for a moment. “Thanks for doing this, Evelyn. I think it’ll sound great.”
    She nodded. “Shall I sing now?”
    Sterling strummed the beginning chords of the song. They practiced for forty-five minutes until Evelyn’s shift was about to begin. As she stood, Sterling grabbed her hand.
    “Do you think you could go out with me sometime—maybe try a different restaurant for a change?”
    Evelyn hesitated and noticed how tight Sterling gripped his guitar with his other hand. She wanted to say no, the same way she always did, but her heart fluttered, and she felt something she hadn’t in a long time. “I’m surprised you were able to ask me a cappella.”
    For a moment Sterling didn’t say anything, and then he released her hand and began playing his guitar. He sang, his voice rich and warm, “Evelyn, will you please have dinner with me tomorrow night?”
    She giggled and then she clapped her hands. “I’d be delighted.”
    He continued strumming the chords. The polished wood of the guitar caught the light and reflected the flecks of gold interspersed with the green of his eyes. “Can I pick you up at six?” he sang.
    Evelyn sang back to him, “But you don’t know where I live.”
    “Can I walk you home tonight?” Sterling sang each word accompanied by a loud strum of his guitar.
    She hummed and then whispered, “I think that would be fine.”
    Sterling left the Silver Lining after their practice and promised to be back by nine o’clock to walk her home. Evelyn’s insides felt jittery all evening. When the clock chimed the ninth hour, she gathered up the menus and stacked them in a neat pile before retrieving her purse from the employees’ room.
    Sterling was waiting for her out front. He had changed, and his dark brown shirt seemed to accentuate the thickness of his chest. “I’ve been working on a car tonight, trying to get it fixed by the weekend.” He motioned to his shirt. “I didn’t want to get my nice clothes dirty.”
    “You didn’t have to interrupt your work to walk me home,” Evelyn said.
    “This doesn’t count as an interruption.” He held the door open for her. “I don’t usually work this late, unless it’s an emergency for the customer.”
    After adjusting her scarf against the cold, Evelyn took Sterling’s proffered arm, and they walked through the wintry night, their breath billowing out in soft clouds behind them. Her heels scraped against the crusty snow on the sidewalk, and for a few moments their footsteps were the predominant sound. A few teenagers roamed the streets, their laughter echoing against the pavement. A bottle shattered a few feet in front of them and Sterling jumped back with a gasp, and pulled Evelyn behind him. One of the kids shrieked, and they took off running down the street.
    Sterling’s hands shook. He winced and held very still for a moment. He shivered and released Evelyn’s hands. “I’m sorry.”
    Evelyn glanced down the street and back at Sterling. “It’s no problem. It startled me, too.”
    “Not like me.” Sterling’s breath hung in a cloud in front of him. He closed his eyes and she heard him sigh.
    She reached out and tucked her hand in his arm, gently squeezing his bicep. “It’s okay.”
    Sterling ran his tongue over his teeth and cleared his throat. “I’ve been home for eight months now.” He motioned to his leg, “The tanks were firing everywhere, and all I could see was dirt, then it felt like my whole lower body exploded.”
    He hesitated and Evelyn whispered, “You don’t have to, Sterling.”
    “I want you to know,” he said. “They thought I was dead—but I wasn’t. At first, when they patched me back together, I thought maybe it would have been better.” He rolled his shoulders back and his eyes held a faraway look. “The burns—the pain—it was excruciating.”
    She covered his hand with hers. “I’m sorry you had to