Into the Moment

By Cheryl Anderson Davis

While training for the D-Day invasion, paratrooper Jeremy’s selfish desire to live life to the fullest gets a big push when he falls in love with beautiful, but emotionally battered, war widow Julie. Convinced he is not going to survive the war, and completely “into the moment,” Jeremy persuades Julie to marry him.

But once he ships overseas he is plagued with the fear he may have endangered his wife’s life by failing to warn her that he is more than a simple soldier.
Though he is a high-ranking operative in the secret service, he cannot communicate his fears through a web of intense censorship.

All he can do is struggle to stay alive and trust his clever Julie to do the same as she deals with an unexpected onslaught of unforeseen Homefront perils.

• Language: Unknown
• Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
• Release date: Nov 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9781509251230

Cheryl Anderson Davis

An avid history buff, Cheryl Anderson Davis lives south of Atlanta, Georgia on a picturesque country road complete with a neglected graveyard and an abandoned railroad. After she retired from full-time employment with a local county government (where she honed her insight as to the strange behavior of the human species through such diverse duties as taking emergency calls at the police department and supervising a busy computer center help desk), she subjected herself to more studies of strangeness by working in a law office before becoming a full-time writer. She and her husband have three children, three grandsons and a clowder of rescue cats.

Book preview

Jeremy leaned his brow against hers. You’re smart.

No, I’m not.

Yes, you are…Julie Seaton, sometimes I think you know something I don’t. Like you’re keeping a secret and it’s my job to find out what it is. Maybe that’s why I so enjoy being with you.

I’m full of good plot twists? she suggested.

Exactly! How artfully she turned the current conversation back onto earlier conversations.

So what’s the next turn of our story?

I can imagine a few juicy storylines. Jeremy chuckled in the back of his throat.

Julie fought back a yawn.

No, no! Don’t you quit on me…you’re mine for the entire week. Even sleep doesn’t get a share of you. These hours might be the sum total of our entire courtship and marriage. Now where should we go? What should we do?

Does it matter?

Jeremy beamed at this amazing woman, his woman, as she lazily looked up at him in the dim light. He was full of nervous energy and wanted to do everything possible in the time they had together. But all Julie had to say was a few simple words like that and all the anxiety and nervous drive ‘to do’ vanished into empty vapor.

Julie traced the tip of her index finger along his brow, down his nose and over his lips. Jeremy puckered and kissed the finger.

The next time you say I’m smart, Jeremy, maybe I’ll believe you. I was smart enough to snag you.

Praise for Cheryl Anderson Davis

Won Publishers Best Historical—Hope Is Constant (Treble Heart Books) Strength of the main characters really shines throughout the book…has a delightful surprise ending. (Writers Unlimited) A touching, beautiful book. (The Romance Studio)

Southern Complications A story that will not disappoint but captivate with every turn of the page. This is a keeper! (The Romance Studio) I read this book in a single sitting, intrigued with the storyline and the author’s skill. (Authors’ Choice Reviews)

Into the Moment

by

Cheryl Anderson Davis

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Into the Moment

COPYRIGHT © 2023 by Cheryl Anderson Davis

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: [e-mail]

Cover Art by Lisa Dawn MacDonald

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Edition, 2023

Trade Paperback ISBN 978-1-5092-5122-3

Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-5123-0

Previously published 2002 Compradore

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

To my brilliant kids Lee, Richard, and Katie—who keep me straight when I stray too far from historical fact.

Chapter One

Columbus, Georgia

Christmas Eve 1943

Her name is Mrs. Binder. If her sister’s a friend of my parents, she must be a hundred years old with glasses on the end of her nose.

Jeremy, I don’t see anyone like that.

Privates Jeremy Seaton and Erwin Sexton hovered in the doorway at the USO canteen, craning their necks. Ah, it probably isn’t even a real Civil War sword after all. The people around Army bases are always trying to pass off counterfeit junk to soldiers.

Jeremy, be nice for a change. This lady’s sister is a friend of your parents.

Yeah, yeah, I’ll be nice. Besides, from her letters, I know she’s nice.

Erwin stared, genuinely surprised. You never mentioned this Mrs. Binder before.

I didn’t? Jeremy asked, eyes scanning the room. She writes me patriotic, little old lady letters. You know, how wonderful and brave I am by serving my country. Jeremy turned and caught Erwin’s smile. What?

You really want to meet this woman, don’t you, Jeremy?

Jeremy screwed up his mouth, then protested, She’s an old lady! Okay?

Okay, Jeremy. Erwin continued to smile. I’ve never heard Jeremy Seaton sound so defensive before.

Defensive? Don’t read more into this than there is. She has to be an old lady. Her grandfather served in the Civil War. Her sister Kitty is the president of my mother’s garden club.

Okay, Jeremy, Erwin agreed.

The dance was already in full progress. Music blared from overhead speakers while couples paired off to jitterbug. A giggly blonde, protesting a little too loudly for her reluctance to be believable, ran screaming for the exit. A happy soldier hoisted a sprig of mistletoe high in his hot pursuit.

Catching sight of the insignia on his uniform, Jeremy ducked out of the crowded door to let the man stumble past. Calvary, of course, he mumbled to Erwin. Maybe we should go. They are getting a little too crazy, and the MPs will be on us. You know we are supposed to keep on the far side of trouble, incognito, wherever we go.

Jeremy, it is a Christmas party. The last these guys will see stateside for a long time…if they live to see another Christmas. Can’t we just stay and listen to the music?

Jeremy pursed his lips, hating this foolishness. Even if Mrs. Binder did not appear with her sword, he was still willing to forgo his own desire to leave and give in to his friend’s wishes. Erwin had his heart set on staying. He was such a kid sometimes.

They even have a Christmas tree! Erwin marveled. He pointed out the tinsel and garlands festooned along the walls. The captain said the local school children worked all week fixing this place up for their soldiers. Their soldiers, Jeremy. Isn’t that too sweet? And it is not too often that behind-the-scenes fellows like you and I get a chance to be out in the open like this, accept some of this appreciation. I think it is a wonderful way to celebrate Christmas.

Jeremy rolled his eyes from the tree to gushing Erwin. Oh, please, don’t get too sentimental on me.

We don’t have to stay long, Erwin promised.

All right, a few minutes then. But don’t go around shaking hands and introducing yourself. Low profile, Erwin. Don’t draw attention to us. We are not even supposed to be off the base tonight. And keep in mind how big a bribe I had to foist on the sergeant to get him to sign our passes.

Sure, Jeremy, sure. Low profile, Erwin agreed in a whisper.

I wish they would stop playing that song over and over. It’s getting on my nerves.

I sort of like it, Erwin said, snapping his fingers and scuffing his feet. Don’t sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me, no, no, no.

Erwin, I’m sorry to say this, but like me, you look like a jerk when you try to jitterbug.

Erwin sniggered, knowing Jeremy was right.

Jeremy twisted his cap in his hands. All right, lady, where are you?

Guess we will have to go inside, Erwin decided.

In there? You know what always happens when we go to the USO. Some big guy, all shoulders and no brains, will try to pick a fight with me. Then his buddies will join in the melee. Hand to his chest, medium height, medium weight, medium everything, Jeremy Seaton asked his friend, Now, really, Erwin, do I look like a fighter? Why me?

You’re like a terrier, Jeremy. You open your yap when you shouldn’t. They know you are dying to have the last word, and the only way they can shut you up is to pound you. Erwin nudged his shoulder. Besides, Jeremy, maybe you are a lover and not a fighter.

Ha, ha. Jeremy decided, That is the kind of lame joke a math teacher would make. Watch it, Erwin. Your PhD is showing.

Jeremy, remember those stories that by wearing a uniform, we would attract all the women? Well, where are they?

On the arms of those guys. Jeremy pointed at the big, healthy soldiers laughing and dancing in the center of the room.

Studying their competition, Erwin decided, Maybe you are right. Let’s just forget the sword and go to the movies.

No, Erwin, you were right. If I don’t stay and at least talk to this lady, for the rest of my life, my mother will remind me what a crummy, inconsiderate son I am. We will simply have to go inside and find this Mrs. Binder.

Yeah, Erwin agreed. Do you think anyone has spiked the punch?

Erwin, stay away from the punch. Low profile. You can’t handle liquor. You get too happy and talk too much.

Jeremy, what is the point of being in the Army, probably going to die for one’s country, if we can’t act like soldiers?

Jeremy dodged the onslaught of a giggling teen trying to drape a strand of silver tinsel over his head. He grabbed her hand and batted as if she was carrying spider webs. Thank you for all your kindness, but I am not a holiday window treatment in a department store, a wreath on my mother’s front door, or a painted piñata. Please leave me unadorned, undecorated, and unnoticed. The girl staggered away open-mouthed in her bewilderment over such a speech, but she was quickly wishing Merry Christmas to servicemen more eager for her message of goodwill.

Erwin observed, I am certain I am the only one in the room who knows you well enough to be certain you are not as cold and crass as you like to pretend.

I don’t need any more patriotic, little old lady praises. This touching and empty chatter was making Jeremy nervous and a little waspish. He liked to keep an invisible wall around his person, the perimeter maintained at least eight inches deep. And you ask why you and I can’t act like the other soldiers. Because you and I are the two most unlikely soldiers to ever wear khaki. We don’t smoke, we don’t drink, and I’m not big or mean enough to pound on someone. We are intelligent men who use our brains. Why do you think being a soldier is so great?

But like them, aren’t we defending our country, JW?

Of course we are, but as educated men, we should think of our duty in the Army as a necessary evil. By soldiers, I’m talking about the guys that are enjoying this war. Jeremy and Erwin kept circling the fringe of the dance floor. And don’t call me JW in public.

Twice Jeremy was asked if he would like to dance, though he pretended not to hear the question. No one seemed to notice Erwin at all.

They are looking forward to jumping out of an airplane and shooting at someone. The only thing any of these guys talk of is kicking some Nazi backsides or trying to impress some girl into having sex with him because he’s going overseas and will die like a hero with her name on his lips. These jocks keep talking one another up about fighting and sex. Fighting and sex. I haven’t thought so much about sex since my college days. It didn’t do me any good to think about it then either.

Erwin chuckled, delighted when Jeremy went off on one of his lecturing tirades.

That is all they talk about. They have even raised my interest level with all this talk.

Oh, Jeremy, don’t be such an intellectual. Maybe they know how to enjoy themselves. They deserve to have a little fun before they go overseas.

You make it sound like I don’t know how to have fun.

Erwin did not answer, so Jeremy turned and scowled.

So Erwin defended himself. Jeremy, you are always on duty. The only enjoyment you allow yourself comes out of a book. Or insulting someone less intelligent than you are. Which is everyone. Which is why you get into so many fights.

I am not laughing, Erwin, if that was meant to be a joke.

Jeremy, I am your friend. That is why I wanted to come here with you tonight. I am saying this for your benefit. Everyone else is too afraid of you to tell you the truth. You need to loosen up a little bit. Life is not just thesis papers, pulling off a deal at the bank, or being the best at breaking some secret Nazi code. Sometimes you need to have some fun. Some clean, wholesome fun around the female of the species. I’m not so worked up that I will attack anyone. There can’t be any harm in dancing with a girl. Jeremy, I want to dance with a real, live girl before I’m shipped out. And I am determined I will do it tonight.

Go ahead, Erwin, Jeremy invited, waving a sweeping arm toward the dance floor. But don’t say I didn’t warn you if you get your face punched.

Now look at that one there. Erwin nodded toward a sad-eyed girl sitting in the corner. She looks lonely. No one is asking her to dance.

Jeremy bounced his head from side to side as if debating the issue. Yeah, she looks safe. The girl was rather plain, but who was stubby, college professor Erwin Sexton to be picky? Go give it a try, Erwin. But don’t expect me to dance.

All right. Keep looking for the little old lady with the Civil War sword. But, boss, mind your manners. It’s Christmas.

Jeremy put a hand to his chest in protest. Manners? Me? My mother always said—

Don’t dissemble. You know what I mean. Be nice.

I’ll be nice, Jeremy promised. I will even carry you out of this place if that girl has a big bruiser boyfriend ready to pick a fight.

Thanks, Jeremy, you are a real buddy. Boss, don’t get into a fight tonight. The MPs are getting rather tired of erasing your name off their roster.

Sure, sure. He beamed a smile. Best behavior.

Erwin gave him one more knowing look before he abandoned Jeremy to himself.

An elderly lady behind the refreshment table offered Jeremy a cup of punch. He accepted the cup, glad to have something to hold in his hand as he scanned the room. He forced a smile, trying to be nice.

They were playing the records too loud. He looked at the people around him, astounded. They seemed to be oblivious to the decibel level. How could anyone possibly have a conversation in a place like this? Well, conversation was the last thing on these people’s minds. Some of the dancers were really good, guys tossing girls over their heads then down between their legs. The soldiers that were not dancing were either trying to entice a girl outside or pawing one under the table.

Now, look at Joe Mason there. That man had it all. A perfect smile, big shoulders, and an ego the size of a B29 bomber. Any girl in the room would be thrilled when a man like him came on to her.

Jeremy sipped at his punch. So why wasn’t this female interested in Joe’s advances? That was a nice-looking woman! What was she doing here with these teenagers? She was dressed very nicely. She looked fresh and attractive with a red rosebud pattern in her dress and her hair pulled back behind her ears with a nice pair of glittering combs. Jeremy glanced at the teenagers around her, with their too-tight sweaters and scuffed loafers, and found them unappealing in comparison.

Wow! She was a real Southern belle with chestnut-colored wavy hair. Even in heels, she was much shorter than height-conscious Jeremy. Mama Bear, you are not too cold, not too hot. You are just right. Jeremy wagged his head, amused by his assessment. As if he, reclusive, introverted Jeremy Seaton, was a lady’s man and knew all there was to know about women. The great connoisseur. Yeah, right! Every romantic soufflé Jeremy had ever tried to bake had always fallen flat.

Between a break in the music, he could hear the lilting Southern voice that matched her charming appearance. All I want to know is, are you acquainted with a Jeremy Seaton?

Baby, I can be anybody you want me to be, said smooth Joe Mason, crowding in on this pretty lady.

Jeremy took a gulp of his punch. She had said his name. Could this be Mrs. Binder? She was carrying a burlap sack large enough to contain a Civil War saber. Joe Mason, of all guys, was giving her a hard time. Jeremy was going to get his nose punched if he got in the middle of Joe’s action.

Please, go away. The woman backed away from this man in her face until she bumped into a table.

Joe leaned on the table behind her, keeping his mug in hers. Listen, why don’t I get us a drink? We’ll sit down and get to know one another.

I’m married.

So are half the people in this place. Joe dismissed her attempt to brush him off.

I came here to do some business.

Joe put a hand on his chest. Hey, baby, make me your business.

Jeremy took another gulp of punch. He knew he was going to get throttled by big strutting Joe, but he could not stand by while this annoying guy pawed this nice woman. Those who are about to die salute you, Jeremy muttered as he put his cup down on a table and boldly advanced toward the couple.

Mrs. Binder, I’m Jeremy Seaton.

The relief on her face was too evident. She offered her hand. Hello, Mr. Seaton. I’m Julie Binder.

Seaton, get lost, ordered an exasperated Joe, elbowing Jeremy’s hand aside.

I have business with Mr. Seaton, Julie Binder insisted.

Can I see it? Jeremy reached for the sword and hoped that if they ignored Joe, the man would give up the chase and go pursue a willing teenager.

Hey, buddy, hit the road, Joe threatened as he knocked Jeremy’s hand aside again.

Jeremy Seaton was never afraid of a battle, even when his opponent was a lot bigger and stronger. He was not even deterred by the thought that he had never won a fight, though that was because he offended everyone in the room, and his opponent’s pals joined in the conflict. Tonight it was just him against Joe. He was weary of being beaten up by bullies, but he was not going to let this big ox torment this woman any more tonight.

Perhaps he would be wise to first try to use his wits instead of his fists. Do you know anything about Civil War swords, Joe?

No, why? asked a confused Joe.

Jeremy reached for the bag, so Julie handed it to him. Jeremy drew the sword out of the sack and deftly removed it from its scabbard in one quick movement. Because even if it’s rusted, it can cut a man’s hand slap off!

Before Joe could react, Jeremy lifted the sword above his head, then slammed the flat of the weapon onto the table on which Joe had been leaning. Cups and plates flew into the air, canteen patrons scattered at the sight of this angry soldier wielding a sword, and startled Joe fell backward into a chair.

Seaton, I’m going to kill you!

Before Joe could get to his feet and trounce Jeremy for scaring him half to death, two military police officers grabbed Jeremy by either arm. Jeremy relinquished the weapon without a struggle and was hustled toward the exit.

Wait! Julie called, trying to push her way after them through the crowd. She caught up with the soldiers at the doorway.

Private, you are going to the stockade. Are you drunk or just plain crazy?

No, Sergeant, I—

That’s my sword, Sergeant, Julie informed the MPs. May I have my property back?

The confused sergeant looked from the sword to Jeremy to her. Do you know this guy?

He was going to buy the sword from me, and I guess he was trying it out.

Mrs. Binder, he attacked a guy with a sword—

Really, Sergeant, it’s a Civil War relic, Julie admonished. No harm was done. And does he look like a mad killer to you?

The six-foot-two burly sergeant smiled down on Jeremy. Jeremy batted flirting eyes, but for once in his life, he kept his mouth closed and did not make a comment. Hardly. The sergeant returned her sword and released his grip on Jeremy’s arm. If you take him out of here, Mrs. Binder, we’ll forget the whole thing.

We’re gone, she promised, looping Jeremy’s arm and escorting him across the parking lot. She unlocked the sedan’s door. Hurry and jump into our getaway car.

They were out of the parking lot before she began to laugh. At first softly, then so hard she began to wipe tears from her eyes. Jeremy started laughing, too, but because he was amazed he had escaped bodily harm and was a free man. She pulled the car over to the curb and put her head on the wheel, her shoulders shaking. She composed herself, sat upright, and turned to him.

Private Seaton, that was wonderful! I wish I had been the one brave enough to have done it.

And they laughed together some more.

She took the car back onto the road. I guess I shouldn’t have brought a weapon to a public place like that. I did not dream some valiant man would have to resort to defending my honor with a sword.

Yeah, that’s me, Jeremy joshed, his heart still hammering. I am this bold guy that rescues women from mashers every Friday night with my trusty sword.

Oh, Mr. Seaton, don’t make me laugh anymore. My sides are hurting. She sobered. I haven’t laughed so much in years. Thank you.

I’m good at making people laugh, Jeremy assured her. That’s what college history professors have to do to keep the kids’ attention. I have to work a vaudeville routine.

I’d love to be in one of your classes.

When I was teaching Chaucer and the Middle Ages, I came to class with a crossbow and shot it across the room. That got them interested! He had no idea why he was confiding such information to this stranger.

You must have this attraction to weapons and living dangerously.

That’s me. He held up a fist. Real dangerous. One of America’s best fighting men. Then he had to ask. Where are we going?

Why? Are you afraid I’m kidnapping you? I’m sorry. Was there someone at the USO waiting on you?

Yeah, about twenty girls.

She laughed softly. No, really, I’ll take you back if you have a date. I don’t want to drag you away from the Christmas celebrations.

Jeremy repressed the smile. This woman thought he had someone back there waiting on him. People took for granted that he did not have someone waiting.

Hey, I’m yours for the night. The words had tumbled out before he realized how awful that sounded.

And what would we tell your mother if she found out about our escapade?

Jeremy shook his head in dismay. Wow, he almost believed she was flirting with him.

Sergeant Monroe, the MP, he knew you. He even seemed to think enough of you to let me go into your custody. And that guy is not impressed by anyone, no matter their rank.

My husband used to be his captain.

Used to be?

Yes, she said. Used to be.

He’s overseas now?

I’m a widow.

I’m sorry, he consoled, wishing he had not forced her to admit her husband was dead.

Early in the war. In the Pacific.

Oh, he said. Then he remembered his original question. Where are we going?

I thought we’d go to my place.

Oh, he simply said again. This could not be happening to him! He had thought the guys in the barracks had been lying when they told those arousing stories of lonely war widows who would pick up any soldier and take him back to their homes for a night of carnal entertainment. No, this woman was too good-looking to have to settle for just any guy. Besides, she could have had handsome Joe Mason. Why would she want to take rude, cold, unromantic Jeremy Seaton home with her? Why would any woman?

We don’t need to be showing that sword out in public anymore.

Oh, yeah, he agreed, now understanding. Jeremy had completely forgotten about the sword while in the throes of his dissolute ruminations. This was strictly business.

I run a boarding house near the base.

Oh, he said again, not knowing what else to say. That was respectable, people all around. No wonder she was taking a stranger to her home. He now recalled her saying something about that in one of her letters. Strange, but he could not remember her mentioning the dead husband. In fact, she had related little information concerning her family.

Jeremy watched the headlights flash as cars passed them, summoning the courage to take a good look when her face was illuminated. This was a handsome woman with a cute little nose and large, dreamy eyes. He wondered how old she was. Midthirties, maybe? Older than him, maybe?

Mr. Seaton, do you think it’s worth your trouble?

What in the world was she talking about? He was afraid to ask. Jeremy felt totally confused around this woman. His mind kept wandering off on these bizarre tangents. Nobody had ever knocked calculating, brilliant Jeremy Seaton off center before. Jeremy had always seemed to be able to anticipate everyone’s next actions, so he was a little irritated to find himself unprepared for her next words and on the defensive.

The sword belonged to my first husband and has been stuck back in a closet since he died. I re-discovered it when I was cleaning. Paul doesn’t want it.

Paul? He supposed this was a boyfriend. Married twice, so she must have a boyfriend now. This woman had been around!

My son Paul is stationed in England. He doesn’t seem to have much interest in history or swords, I’m afraid. He told me to sell it and take myself to the movies.

A grown son in the service. She had to be at least midthirties. Why did he care how old she was? Why was he obsessing about this?

Well, if it is a real Civil War sword and you can trace who owned it, you might get a lot more than a ticket to the movies, Jeremy