Will Sinclair had a better than average singing voice and could remember the words to more songs than anyone she knew.
“I can think of better things to do,” he said, taking in the surroundings. “Would somebody please pinch me? I think I must’ve died and gone to heaven!” Will stood on the steps of the welcoming porch and held out his arms to the scene before them. Sandy paths led over a wide green lawn to an arbor heavy with fragrant yellow roses. More roses of every color bordered a walkway that meandered along a stream overhung with weeping willows.
“The roses are almost gone now,” Elaine said, “but some of them will last until the first frost.”
Charlie took a deep breath to inhale the scent. If the garden were more beautiful than it was now, she didn’t think she would be able to handle it. “People can peaches,” she whispered to Will. “They can vegetables, and even meat. I wish we could can this garden—this night.”
For an answer, Will tipped up her chin and kissed her. “And the essence of you,” he said, holding her close.
As dusk descended, lamplight illuminated the edges of the lawn, offering just enough light to see and, without a word, Will led her to a bench beside the stream, where the silence of the evening was broken only by the soothing sound of water. Don and Elaine, Charlie noticed, had strolled back to the porch, leaving the two of them alone in the deepening twilight. Soon it would be dark.
Charlie talked some of school and the entertainment they planned for the rally, and of the adorable baby called Pooh who had become an important part of their lives, and Will told her of his training and how they had thrown everybody into the shower—clothes and all—after they soloed for the first time.
They kept track of the time … seven thirty … eight o’clock … two and a half hours to spend together in this peaceful place, as it would take them a half hour to drive back to the college.
Elaine had a friend in her dormitory whose parents were driving up from Atlanta and would take her that far on her return trip the next day, Charlie told him. “But the bus ride here wasn’t that bad. It just seemed to take forever.” She told him about sharing her lunch with the soldiers and of holding the baby on the last leg of the trip. “I don’t know how that young mother manages,” she admitted. “It must be an ordeal for her just to listen to the news on the radio.”
Will nuzzled her ear. “Have you ever thought that one of these days we might have a baby of our own?”
Charlie smiled. She had thought of little else. She reached up to touch his face, ran her fingers along his clean jawline, traced the outline of his lips.
Will caught her hand in his and kissed her fingers, one at a time. “It might be a good idea if we married first,” he said.
Charlie laughed. “I can imagine what Froggie Faulkenberry would think if we didn’t!
“We could have the wedding right here in this garden,” she continued, taking his suggestion lightly. “And serve some of that great peach cobbler at the reception. I’m sure Elaine’s aunt and uncle wouldn’t mind.”
Somewhere nearby a cricket chirped, water lapped against the banks of the stream. Will spoke in a quiet voice. “I wasn’t joking, Charlie.”
“You weren’t? You mean … is this a proposal?”
He drew her close and kissed her ear. “That’s exactly what it is. Will you marry me, Charlie Carr?”
“I will! Of course I will. Yes, yes!” She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder, the uniform rough against her cheek. If only he could hold her like this forever.
“It won’t be for a while, you know, but I’ll sure feel better knowing you’re waiting in the wings. And I don’t have a ring yet, but I’ll get one—just tell me what you want.”
Charlie thought of all the years she had dreamed of being engaged and wearing a diamond ring, but now the ring didn’t matter at
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