Beyond the Shadow of War (2 page)

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“Do you, Daniel Howard McClain, take Anya Liesje Versteeg to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish til death you shall part?”

“I do.”

“And do you, Anya Liesje Versteeg, take Danny Howard McClain to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish til death you shall part?”

Tears pooled in her gray-blue eyes, a tiny crease knitting her brow. He held his breath, a stab of fear fluttering through his heart as he waited for her response.
Say it, Anya. Just say it.
She nodded ever so slightly, her eyes locked on his as a single tear broke free. Danny cupped his palm against her cheek and brushed it away.

She placed her hand over his and whispered, “I do.”

His sigh of relief garnered a quiet chuckle from their friends. With Anya’s hand still clasped over his, she finally smiled, and he thought it the loveliest sight he’d ever seen.

Standing there in Framlingham’s United Reform Church with its centuries-old scents of musty stone and lemon-polished pews, Danny tried to stay focused on the ceremony and stop the mental gymnastics bouncing around his head; still wondering how in the world they’d made it here. Too many pieces of the puzzle had fallen in place, leading them to this moment, this altar. He couldn’t have stopped the smile on his face if he’d tried.

They exchanged simple bands of gold, each repeating their vows after the vicar.

“With this ring, I thee wed, with all that I am and all that I have, I honor you. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”

Danny wove his fingers through hers, not about to let go as the vicar finished the ceremony.

“In as much as you have each pledged to the other your lifelong commitment, love, and devotion, I now pronounce you husband and wife, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Lieutenant, you may now kiss your bride.”

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly, oblivious to the others gathered around them.

“Well, then,” the vicar said, startled as laughter echoed through the chapel. “I suppose this is where I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Daniel McClain.”

Danny leaned his forehead against hers. “I must admit, I like the sound of that. Don’t you, Mrs. McClain?”

A more relaxed smile warmed her face. “Yes, I suppose I do, Mr. McClain.”

Beside him, Charlie cheered as the others joined in. “Here, here!”

Danny kissed his bride once more before taking her hand and turning to face the small gathering of their friends.

Once outside, Charlie gave Danny a mighty bear hug and slapped him on his back. “Congratulations, old boy!” He stepped back and held out his arms to Anya. “And my condolences to the new Mrs. McClain. I’m afraid you’ve got your hands full with this one, but no doubt you’ll have him toeing the line in a day or two.”

“Pay no mind to him,” Sophie teased, elbowing him out of the way to give Anya a hug. “When it comes to these American menfolk, it takes a tad bit longer to break them in. Trust me on that,” she added with a playful wink.

Sophie’s father Patrick rushed around them. “Congratulations, to both of you! Now, take your time making your way to the pub. I’m off to finish preparing our little celebration.”

Sophie gave Anya’s wrist a squeeze. “Oh Anya, I’m so happy for you. I know you and Danny will be just as happy as we are.”

Anya’s smile quivered ever so slightly as she nodded. Danny appreciated Sophie’s kind words and wondered how on earth they ever would have pulled off their hasty wedding without her help. He still couldn’t help feeling it was all just a dream.

The immigration process had been a nightmare. Like most of Europe still fighting its way out of the fog of war, Holland was years away from returning to business as usual. The process of required paperwork necessary for someone to leave the country moved at a snail’s pace, frustrating Danny and filling Anya with second thoughts. Even with all the forms filed, they’d been told the wait for her visa could take weeks, maybe months.

When his leave ended, saying goodbye had been brutal. He wondered if he would ever see her again. Would she change her mind? Would she convince herself to stay and help rebuild her beloved homeland? Would she find a thousand other excuses not to marry him or come with him to America?

These were the thoughts that crept through his heart day and night while he waited back in Framlingham. Then, a few weeks later, he was surprised to receive a telegram from Anya saying she’d bought a ticket on a ferry boat and would arrive in England the next day. Even now, he still couldn’t believe her visa finally came through, and she’d actually made the trip. Yet here they were, five days later … married.

Sophie was an absolute godsend, stepping in to make Anya feel as welcome as possible. How it warmed his heart to see the two of them together, Sophie ministering to her as only another woman could. Without Sophie’s help, he doubted Anya would’ve made it to the altar today.

But oh, how she did. What a shock to see the startling transformation from the gaunt, scrawny young woman he’d first met in a safe house in Holland, to the beautiful bride now walking beside him. The simple cream-colored dress which Sophie had worn for her own wedding now graced Anya’s slender frame, the perfect fit evidence of Sophie’s expertise with a needle and thread.

Like so many other war brides before her, Sophie had fashioned her wedding dress from remnants of a silk parachute. Oh, the irony. If not for a silk parachute dropping him into Holland, he never would have found Anya. Years had passed since the blackout of war had abruptly ended their exchange of letters. And yet, here she stood, elegant in the creamy silken folds of what once was a parachute.

Such a feminine look was different for Anya, but Danny thought it suited her well. A loosely woven braid gathered her dark hair down the nape of her neck as wisps of hair rustled across her forehead in the gentle breeze. He couldn’t stop looking at her and didn’t bother trying. He stole another kiss, then tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and covered it with his own as they turned the corner nearing Quincy’s Pub.

A battered bicycle hit the ground as a crewman stiffened and threw them a salute.

“Sirs! Oh, sirs! My friends! My friends!”

Oh no.

“Oh blessed day, I can’t believe it!” With his salute still locked in place, the short Italian continued. “To think a mere jaunt into town by this lowly sergeant could coincide with the very path on which you wonderful people trod‌—‌”

“At ease, Sergeant,” Charlie interrupted, offering a weary salute in return. “Nothing to get excited about.”

“Oh, but sirs, it is! It truly is! Do you perchance remember me? I had the esteemed honor of accompanying you on one of your Chowhound missions. Truly the highlight of my service here in the war of which we partook.”

“Sure we remember you, Sergeant. How could we forget?” Danny slowed their pace, but didn’t want to risk getting sidelined by the chatty crewman. “It’s Cosmos, isn’t it?”

“Oh boy, here we go,” Charlie muttered.

Cosmos placed both hands over his heart as he nodded. “Yes, sir. That’s right. Cosmos Benedetto from the great state of New Jersey. But I have to say, the fact that you actually
remembered
my name? I’m, I’m … why, I’m utterly speechless.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” Charlie quipped under his breath. Danny elbowed him.

“It’s nice to see you again, Sergeant Benedetto.” Danny picked up their pace. “If we don’t see you again before you head back to the States, have a safe trip home, okay?”

Suddenly, Cosmos was directly in their path, arms wide open, looking like a child on Christmas morning. “Oh my goodness! It has just occurred to me! Lieutenant, did you just
marry
this exquisite beauty?”

Danny finally stopped and wrapped his arm around Anya’s shoulders. “Yes, I did. In fact, we just came from the church. This is my bride, Anya Vers‌—‌I mean, Anya McClain.”

She reached out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Sergeant.”

He stared at her hand briefly before taking it in both of his. “Oh my dear girl, the honor is all mine. Truly, it is. And if I may, let me be the first to congratulate you on this your day of wedded matrimony. May the‌—‌” he paused as emotion stole his voice. “May the good Lord above, who has seen fit to allow all of us here to survive the troubled landscape of war these many years, bless you with a lifetime of happiness together.”

Anya smiled, her hand still in his grasp. “That’s very kind. Thank you.”

Charlie patted Cosmos on the back and steered him toward his bicycle. “Sergeant, I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse us. There’s a reception awaiting the newlyweds, and we mustn’t be late. I’m sure you understand.”

“Oh yes, yes! Of course. Off with you now. Mustn’t be late!” He snapped another salute.

Danny returned the gesture. “Take care, Sergeant.”

“You too, Lieutenant. And you as well, Mrs. Lieutenant.”

As the four of them spilled into the pub, Anya felt her nerves beginning to calm. She’d never been one of those girls who’d dreamed of a fancy wedding, or getting married at all, for that matter. Yet here she was, her fingers still clutched to the crook of Danny’s arm.

It hadn’t been that long ago when she’d deemed him an odd duck; the young American boy who was pen pals with her brother Hans. After Hans died, Anya had struggled to write Danny about his death. His heartfelt response had touched her deeply. Almost as an afterthought, they began to write each other more often, until one day she realized how much she looked forward to finding his letters in the post and his tales of movies and baseball and a dog named Sophie.

Not a girlfriend. A dog.

“That’s quite a smile on your face, Mrs. McClain.” Danny tilted his head to one side as he gazed into her eyes. “Penny for your thoughts?”

She blinked out of her revelry. “What did you say?”

“A penny for your thoughts. It’s an expression. Means I’m curious what you’re thinking in that pretty little head of yours.”

She smiled, the scene still vivid in her mind. “I was remembering the day your friend Lieutenant Pendergrass tried to warn me about the girl back home you were in love with. He was trying to spare my broken heart, or so he said, though I knew he was just flirting with me.”

“Girl? What girl?”

“Oh, you know the one. That adorable girl you named your plane after.
Sweet Sophie,
wasn’t it?”

He threw his head back laughing, his guffaw bouncing off the low beams of the pub’s ceiling.

She couldn’t help laughing. “I had the same reaction when he said it, only I’d just taken a sip of hot coffee and immediately spewed it across the table, showering my friend Frederic …” The face of her fallen co-worker flashed through her mind, giving her pause. She shook it off, unwilling to let the memories spoil this day, and tried to find her smile again.

Danny pulled her into his arms. “Do you have
any
idea how beautiful you are when you laugh like that? Do you have any idea how much I love the sound of your laughter?”

She knew he was trying to change the subject, and she loved him for it. “Don’t be silly. It’s just a laugh.”

He nudged her chin upward until her eyes found his again. “Yes, but after years of so little to laugh about, I believe it may be the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.” He kissed her gently, holding her close.

Patrick Quincy elbowed his way past them. “All right, you two. Hold off on all that kissing for now. Come and let us give you a proper toast.”

Danny touched the small of her back as they joined the others near the hearth. Before it stood a table adorned with vases of wild flowers and a lovely three-tiered cake. Anya wondered how Patrick found the ingredients as rationing kept grocers’ shelves sparse.

“Charlie, would you do the honors?” Patrick handed out the slender glasses. “There’s not so much as a bottle of champagne to be found in all of Suffolk, so we’ll simply have to make do with a drop or two of fresh cider.”