A Rose So Fair (Flowers of Eden Book 3) by Johnson Myra

Author:Johnson, Myra
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fawn Ridge Press
Published: 2017-04-04T00:00:00+00:00

Caleb sat with his Camp Pike bunkmates around the barracks radio listening to the final game of the World Series. The New York Giants and Washington Senators were tied 3-3. Then in the top of the tenth Mel Ott slugged one into the center-field bleachers for a home run, and the Giants fans in the room went wild. The Giants held the Senators scoreless in the second half of the inning to win the series four games to three.

Pete Richards clapped Caleb on the back. “I thought you were rooting for the Giants. Where’s your team spirit?”

“Yeah, great game. Glad the Giants pulled it out.” With a forced grin, Caleb helped himself to another of the gingersnaps someone’s mother had sent.

“Looks like somebody’s homesick.” Pete nudged Caleb to his feet. “Wanna get some air?”

“Good idea.” He’d tried to act interested in the game, but his mind and heart were back in Eden. He should have made one last attempt to smooth things over with Rose.

Stepping out into the mild evening, Caleb stuffed his hands into the pockets of his dungarees. He and Pete, a stocky, raven-haired farm boy from Russellville, had made friends quickly since meeting at Camp Pike, probably because they were both only children and craved the brotherly camaraderie they’d missed growing up.

Pete ambled along beside him, their boots kicking up small clouds of dust. “Might as well come clean, Wieland. You left a girl back home.”

A weary laugh rumbled in Caleb’s throat. “That obvious, eh?”

“Nobody—and I mean nobody—looks as hangdog as you over missing his mama.” Pete knocked elbows with Caleb. “So what’s her name?”

Caleb smirked. “My mama?”

“No, you numbskull. Your girl.”

“Her name is Rose,” Caleb answered on a sigh. “Pretty as one, too, and just as prickly.” Oh, Lordy, was she! He’d impaled himself on her deadly thorns too many times to count.

“Gonna marry her once your commitment’s up?”

“Wanted to a long time ago. She’s not interested.” Caleb shoved a low-hanging tree branch out of his way. “What about you? Got a girl back home?”

“Who, me? Nah. I’m holding out for Greta Garbo.”

Laughing out loud, Caleb cuffed his friend on the back of the neck. “You do know how to dream big.”

“Only thing that’s kept me sane while I watch this country go to pot.” Pete’s typical good humor had faded. He slowed his steps and gazed out across the grounds. “I swear, Wieland, if not for the CCC, I’d probably be six feet under by now.”

With a hand to Pete’s shoulder, Caleb made him look him in the eye. “That’s crazy, Pete. Why’d you say an awful thing like that?”

“Because it’s true. My ma died last year, my pa’s too crippled up to work anymore, and we didn’t have two cents left to rub together. I was this close”—he held his thumb and index finger millimeters apart—“to joining up with some lowlifes back in Russellville who were planning some robberies.”

“You wouldn’t have.” Caleb gave his head a firm shake. “You’re too decent a guy.”

“Even decent guys’ll do all kinds of despicable things when they’re pushed to the wall.

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