Dorothy Garlock (36 page)

Sophie understood the man’s sentiment; it felt as if it had been far longer than the nearly four years since America had called
for Victory to send her soldiers off to war. With the day-to-day responsibilities of the home front, it had become difficult
to imagine things changing. But then the Nazis had surrendered, followed soon after by the Japanese, and the anticipation
of their return to normalcy had grown with every passing day.

After the horrible events of three summers past, Sophie’s own life had settled back into the relative quiet she had always
known. With the deaths of Ellis Watts and Riley Mason, the nightmare that she and her family had endured had come to an end.
That Ellis had died at her hand had been more than unsettling; Cole had assured her that the man had perished as a result
of his own actions, because of his own prejudices, but the sound of the rifle firing in her hands still troubled her from
time to time. In a way, she was glad that it did; it proved that she wasn’t immune to conscience.

Graham Grier had come clean about all of his involvements with Ellis and Riley and had accepted his punishment without challenge.
He’d been sentenced to prison, but had been let out early in order to enlist in the army; Graham had been killed in the line
of duty when his unit had been among the first to enter into Germany. The shame of his son’s actions followed so closely by
his death had been more than Graham’s father could handle; he, too, had died of a broken heart earlier in the spring.

Graham’s confession had also managed to ensnare Carolyn Glass. Talk of their scandalous relationship set every tongue in town
wagging, although Augustus refused to listen to the sordid gossip, gallantly standing by his wife even if it meant denying
an obvious truth. But when one of Ellis Watts’s neighbors told him how he had seen her coming and going from the man’s shack
at all hours of the night, the indignity became too great and he divorced her. Carolyn left town with her still unborn child,
never to be heard from again. The secret of her baby’s parentage went with her. Was the child Graham’s? Or had Graham been
blackmailed into crime without deserving the shame he so dreaded? Perhaps the child was the offspring of Ellis’s lust—or even
of Augustus’s misplaced love. Or was the father someone else entirely?

“Just about missed it,” Karl said as he breathlessly joined her on the platform.

“You’re late,” Sophie scolded her brother.

Karl smiled. “As long as I made it before the train, then I’m not late.”

Sophie found that she couldn’t help but smile at Karl. The ordeal with Ellis, the burning of the barn, and the shooting of
their father had been difficult on her brother, but Karl had slowly come around. He’d soon be graduating from high school
and heading off to college in Chicago. While her mother and father would be sad to see him go, they wanted the best for their
only son. Besides, they had many tasks of their own to tend to; life on the farm went on whether you were ready for it or
not.

But life for the Heller family was not all happiness; there was sadness to be had as well. Just before the previous Christmas,
Gitta Heller, Sophie’s beloved grandmother, had passed away quietly in her sleep. While her body had slowly aged, her mind
had remained sharp all the way to the end, and she had regaled them all with story after story. Though she knew that her
Oma
had been happy to see her marry Cole, had been happy to see her rise in standing at the
Victory Gazette
, not a day passed that Sophie didn’t miss the older woman. She knew that Gitta was looking down on her even now.

“Where’s Cole?” Karl asked.

“He went to get his father,” Sophie explained.

“He better hurry if he doesn’t want to be late.”

“They’ll make it,” she said confidently. “They wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“And we didn’t,” Cole answered as he came up behind Sophie and gave her a gentle kiss on her cheek. His hand found hers, their
fingers lacing together, and Sophie smiled into her husband’s eyes, still ever thankful that their lives had been joined.

Four months after the night when Ellis Watts’s evil plan had been brought to a violent end, Cole and Sophie had married. With
Robert’s help, they’d built a home near to the one in which Cole had grown up and settled into a life that brought them both
great joy. Matching Sophie’s success at the paper, Cole had happily taken to his life as a teacher. Every day, he brought
his enthusiasm for mathematics to the children of Victory, shaping their minds for future careers. Without complaint, he did
his job on the home front with as much conviction and energy as he would have if he’d been able to fight on a battlefield.

“How’s my son doing today?” he asked as he rubbed Sophie’s pregnant stomach.

“Don’t you mean daughter?” she answered playfully.

Cole chuckled. “I guess we’ll find out in a couple of months.”

Nothing gave Sophie greater joy than her impending motherhood. To have a child with Cole Ambrose was the greatest gift she
could ever have asked for; she reveled in the prospect. She wished only that she’d been able to tell her grandmother about
her baby, but she knew that Gitta would always be a part of her and that she would share in her joy in her own way.

“I think I see the train,” Robert said.

Every head on the platform peered down the tracks and saw the first billows of dark smoke rising from the engine’s smokestack.
A loud cheer rose up from the crowd and the band began to play. Looking around, Sophie saw many an eye grow moist with tears
at the sight.

Surprisingly, Robert Ambrose pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and began to dab at his eyes. In the years that had
passed since the ordeal with Ellis Watts, no one had changed quite as much as Robert. He and Cole had finally managed to settle
their differences, accepting that what had happened to Cole’s mother was an accident for which no one could be blamed. With
that breakthrough, the bond between father and son had grown stronger, day by day, month by month, and year by year. Robert’s
excitement at becoming a grandfather seemed to know no bounds; there had been so much baby furniture built that Sophie had
begun to wonder if they would have room for it all.

The train pulled into the depot with a screeching of iron against iron and a sharp blast of its whistle. Servicemen crowded
every door, some of them jumping off before the train had even come to a complete stop. Then, his head peeking out an open
window, Jason came into view.

“I told you I was coming back!” he shouted at the top of his lungs.

“Didn’t doubt you for a second!” Cole answered.

“Get off that train right this second!” Mary Ellen Carter shouted beside Cole, tears of joy streaming down her cheeks. For
all of the years Jason had been gone, Mary Ellen had patiently waited. Though fearful that something would happen to the man
she loved, she believed him when he told her he was doing everything he could to return to her safely. On this day, he was
making good on his word.

Then Jason was among them, hugging them all, clinging to them so tightly it seemed as if he would never let go.

“I can’t believe it’s over,” he said.

“But the best part,” Cole said, pulling Sophie close to him and gently laying his hand back upon her stomach, “is still to
come.”

Sophie smiled and agreed.

D
OROTHY
G
ARLOCK
is one of America’s—and the world’s—favorite novelists. Her work has appeared on national bestseller lists, including the
New York Times
extended list, and there are over fifteen million copies of her books in print translated into eighteen languages. She has
won more than twenty writing awards, including five Silver Pen Awards from
Affaire de Coeur
and three Silver Certificate Awards, and in 1998 she was selected a finalist for the National Writer’s Club Best Long Historical
Book Award. Her novel
A Week from Sunday
won a Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice Award for Best Historical Fiction.

After retiring as a news reporter and bookkeeper in 1978, she began her career as a novelist with the publication of
Love and Cherish
. She lives in Clear Lake, Iowa. You can visit her Web site at
www.dorothygarlock.com
.