Hearts Divided (Cedar Cove #5.5)(29)

Helen  LIBERTY HALL

Lois Faye Dyer

Acknowledgments

My thanks to explosives expert Skeeter Burnett

for sharing his knowledge; to Paula Eykelhof,

Meg Ruley and Christina Hogrebe for their

compassion and understanding; and to my

critique group, my children, sisters,

brother and friends for support

above and beyond the call of duty.

Dear Reader,

I grew up listening to my grandparents relaying stories about “the war years.” The courage and dedication of ordinary citizens who donned uniforms and left their homes to defend our country never failed to leave me awed and amazed. It was difficult to imagine my charming Uncle Bill as a sailor in the Pacific, or Uncles Karl and Knute as soldiers in North Africa. They were funny and lovable and kind—how could they be warriors?

As an adult, it is just as awe inspiring to me to hear reports of our military men and women. Thus, the opportunity to explore whether a cautious English professor like Chloe Abbott and a battle-hardened soldier like Jake Morrissey could find a future together was irresistible.

I’m delighted to be sharing this collection with two of my favorite authors and dear friends, Debbie Macomber and Katherine Stone. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as we enjoyed the planning of this anthology over lunches filled with laughter.

Warmest regards,

Lois Faye Dyer

c/o Paperbacks Plus

1618 Bay Street

Port Orchard, WA 98366

www.specialauthors.com/who/bio_dyer.html

In memory of my husband, Bud.

Psalm 23: 1–6

Prologue

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Sent: Wednesday, May 16

Subject: Good morning—

Dear Clara,

Thank you so much for forwarding your apple crisp recipe. My bridge club loved it and I feel quite proud to have an “apple expert” as my dear friend.:-)

The postman brought a letter from Helen yesterday. (We must find a way to convince her to try the World Wide Web so she can share morning e-mail with us!) I was so pleased to learn she’s talked to her granddaughter about her wartime experiences. I confess I was a bit surprised that she chose her granddaughter, Ruth, as her confidante—I thought she might have told her son first. But I don’t think it matters who she told, as long as she told someone in her family. As far as I know, Ruth is the first person Helen has talked to about her involvement in the French Underground—except for her husband, me and you, Clara.

I’ve never forgotten her torment and the pain in her eyes when she told us. I think that was the moment when the three of us bonded, crying together in her hotel room while our husbands waited downstairs in the lobby with Sam. She seemed so fragile, clutching her wedding bouquet. Remember how she wept when she told us about losing her husband in France? And how worried she was about whether she was being fair to Sam by marrying him when she was still devastated by what happened in France? I’m so glad we were there to support her that morning and convince her to go through with her wedding, especially since her marriage to Sam turned out so well. Now that she’s shared her secrets with Ruth, too, I’m hopeful she’ll find a measure of peace.

Helen’s note said her granddaughter’s in love! There must be something in the air this spring—first we learn your granddaughter, Elizabeth, is engaged and now Helen’s Ruth finds love with Paul. I’m so delighted for both of you. What happy times are in store for you and Helen with engagements, weddings and great-grandchildren on the horizon.

I confess I’m envious, Clara, since my own three granddaughters show no signs of hurrying toward marriage. Chloe, Alexie and Lily are busy with their careers, and when I ask them about marriage, their response inevitably is “no time, Gran.” Sigh. Perhaps I should try a bit of matchmaking, since I’m apparently the only one with free time to search for husbands for them. :-)

I do wish we lived closer so I could pop in and visit you daily for coffee and a nice long chat. I vividly remember how difficult it was for me the first year after I lost my Richard. He’s been gone for six years now, and although I still miss him every day, the awful sadness and sense of being lost and adrift gradually eased. I know the grief will grow less for you, too, Clara, but until it does, please remember you can call me anytime, day or night, if you need to talk. I’m sure Helen would say the same.

I must stop chattering and get busy—I have a Women’s Club meeting today. We’re working with the Rehabilitation Department at the University of Washington Medical Center on a project that’s dear to my heart. I’ve even convinced Chloe to get involved—such fun to work with my granddaughter! Have a wonderful day, Clara. Talk to you soon…

All my love,

Winifred

One

Jake Morrissey strode down the hall at the University of Washington Medical Center, scanning the signs above the doors until he found one that read Rehabilitation Medicine. He pushed open the big double doors and looked for his friend, Dan.

The room was surprisingly uncrowded. Across from him, two women talked with a doctor wearing a lab coat. The white-haired older woman and the doctor faced him, the other woman had her back to him.

And a very nice back it was. Tall and slender, she wore a simple, curve-hugging white dress, and her black hair was a sleek fall that brushed her shoulders.