When the Clouds Roll By Read Online Free PDF Page B

ago, but instead he continued to torture himself by rereading it from time to time to see if by some crazy chance he’d misread the words that ended things between them.
    He stared at the floorboards between his boots, remembering against his will. “We got engaged a few months after I finished seminary. We were planning to marry and move into the parsonage next door to the church where I’d already been called to pastor. But then America entered the war, and in my heart I knew God needed me serving at the front more than my congregation needed me in Fort Wayne.”
    Gilbert shifted to ease the pressure on his stump. “Can’t say it was God’s call, but the only thing I ever wanted to do with my life was to serve in the army and fight for my country.” He tugged Annemarie’s photograph from his pocket and stared in silence for so long, Samuel thought he’d drifted off.
    Then Gilbert asked, “Did Helen say she’d wait for you?”
    Samuel sat back and inhaled a tired breath. “She did, at first. But as the casualty lists grew, so did her fear. In her last letter, she apologized for being so weak, for doubting God’s power to bring me home safely, but she couldn’t live with the constant dread. She wrote she needed to get on with her life and find some peace.”
    “I’m sorry, Padre. That was cruel.”
    “She didn’t mean to be. And I can’t blame her. I remind myself how hard it’s been for those waiting at home for their soldier’s return, every day filled with the fear of bad news.”
    “Will you try to see her again, maybe patch things up?”
    “Too late. My mother wrote a couple of months ago saying Helen had become engaged to a banker and is moving to Indianapolis.” Just as well. Samuel had long since given up on the idea of returning to his pastorate or even attempting to resume his old life. He reached for the photo of Annemarie, drawn to it as always in ways he couldn’t explain. “May I?”
    Gilbert passed him the picture. “At least I know Annemarie is faithful.” He leaned his head against the window, where snowflakes now collected in the corners. “But I’m going to do her a big favor once I get back to Hot Springs. She’ll not be saddled with a cripple for a husband.”
    The finality in Gilbert’s tone set off new warning bells in Samuel’s brain. “What are you saying, Gil? What are you planning to do?”
    “What I should have done a long time ago. Now leave me alone, Sam. I want to sleep.”
    Samuel had the sick feeling Gilbert was talking about a completely different kind of sleep, a sleep from which he’d never awaken. He wouldn’t be the first soldier driven to suicide by the horrors of this wretched war. Father, help him find the strength to keep going. Give him the will to live.
    He studied the girl in the portrait and realized with sudden certainty that if things were different—if he were coming home to a woman like Annemarie—he’d fight harder for her love than any doughboy ever fought on the Western Front.

4
    W ait, Mama, I can’t find my other glove!” Annemarie tore through the assortment of scarves, mittens, and stocking caps in the base of the carved oak coat tree.
    “You had them both this morning, dear. Now hurry or we’ll be late!” Mama opened the front door, letting in a chilling gust. “Your father is already waiting in the drive with the motorcar.”
    Annemarie could smell the exhaust fumes from her father’s Model T. He gave the horn an impatient tootle. Mama cast Annemarie a chiding glance and hurried down the front steps.
    The horn screeched once more, and Annemarie banged down the lid on the coat tree bin. Glove or no glove, she must be on her way, or they’d never get to the station before Gilbert’s train arrived. She dashed out the door, slamming it behind her. “I’m coming, Papa!”
    Crawling into the rear seat behind her mother, Annemarie shivered and tucked her bare hand into the opposite coat sleeve. The depot wasn’t far, just