the story was true, Emory believed every word. That book might be the only memories he had of her.
Paul got home and told Yvonne about his morning. She was sympathetic to the old man’s sad life. She said that he was probably so lonely that he treated every visitor he ever received the way he had treated Paul. She looked at the notebook and asked, “How many people do you think have read that?”
“I don’t think that is the case. I really believe that he has never shown this to anyone. I think those pages only have his prints on them.” Paul picked up the notebook and thumbed through the pages. They were all typed and numbered. Stains were on so many pages that some of the words were smeared. It was at least two hundred and fifty pages. Paul told his wife that she had to read it too. He told her it was the old man’s wish, so she had to agree.
He left the manuscript on the coffee table and went to the kitchen to make a sandwich. He returned with two plates and two glasses of tea. Yvonne was already reading the first page.
“You didn’t tell me it was a love story.”
Part 1
Chapter 1
Going to War
May 1944
“I promise you, I will be back. The war will be over soon.” He looked at her, and he saw the tears forming in the corner of her beautiful green eyes. “I may not even go ‘over there.’”
“Emory, I love you, and you know I won’t try and stop you. But if you don’t keep your promise”—and here she paused before she wiped a tear from her cheek—“why, I’ll never forgive you.”
“Irene, you are the reason I have to go. If you can’t live where you are free, then there is nothing worth fighting for.” Emory looked at Irene with tears in his own eyes. He had known her for two years, and from the moment he had seen her, he had known there could be no other. It was 1944, and war was rampant in Europe and the Pacific. He knew he would enlist as soon as high school was over. There had never been a question as to whether or not he would join. His best friend, Corbin, and he had decided to do it together. They were to leave for the air corps training facility in Texas on the following Tuesday. Six weeks in Texas and they would probably be trained to do evacuations. The war would be ending soon; the radio said so every day. They would most assuredly never get to Europe or the Pacific. The sergeant from the office in Frankfort had told them that.
“Irene, I will think of you every single moment I’m gone.”
“Emory,” Irene said as she leaned into his shoulder and put her head against his neck, “you have to come home. I won’t allow you to be gone too long.”
They were sitting at the end of the long ridge across from Emory’s parents’ house. They loved to walk back here. Emory had brought Irene back here to see where he planned on building them a home. He especially loved the way the end of the ridge sloped. It fell steeply on all three sides like the back end of a horse. A house built here would be like a castle. He told Irene that he could see them sitting on a porch overlooking the lake that he planned to build. He told her it would wind around the bottom of the hill on all three sides. “It will be our own little deserted island, sort of.” He told her this the first time he brought her here.
“Mr. Story, I do think you’re rushing things a bit.” She smiled, and he saw the innocence in her sparkling green eyes as her cheeks turned crimson red.
“Irene, when I saw you in church on the day your family moved here, I told Corby that he was looking at the future Mrs. Emory Story.”
“Oh, Emory, how could you have known any sort of thing?” she asked.
“When I saw you and our eyes met, I swear I felt an arrow pierce my heart. Now, I feel my heart leap every time I see you.” Emory felt embarrassed by his confession. He reached over and squeezed her hand.
“Then tell me, Mr. Story, why didn’t you speak to me for two weeks?” she asked him.
“I was so scared that you would say no,” Emory said as he hung his head to the side, not wanting to look at her.
“Emory, I fell in love with you a little more every time that your eyes looked away. When our eyes met, I too felt Cupid’s arrow.”
They sat on the end of the ridge with the sun setting behind them. Emory turned to face her, looking into her eyes. “Irene, you are the reason I live. We will keep this country free or die trying.”
Irene shivered in his arms and said, “Now don’t you say things like that. When you get home, we’ll build that house right here.”
Emory just smiled and pulled her closer. “Do you mean that, Irene?” he asked.
“I know that I will never love anyone else. So don’t you go sticking your neck out to be a hero. Just come home.” Here she paused while she rubbed the corner of her eye. “You have to.”
*****
When the day came for Emory and Corbin to travel by train to Texas, Irene sat at the train station in a brand-new white dress. Emory thought she looked like an angel. He slowly walked toward her while dragging his oversized luggage. He knew that he probably would not get to keep many of his own things, but there were some things that he could not leave at home.
He pulled the suitcase up onto the platform and stopped right in front of her. Her dark hair fell all around her shoulders. The brim of her hat hid half of her face. She looked up at him. He stared back at the golden specks in her green eyes.
“I don’t want you to go,” she said.
“You know I have to,” he told her. “Besides, the war really is almost over. I’ll be home before you know it.”
Tears were falling down her cheeks. All she could think of was the possibility of never seeing him again. “Emory Phillip Story, you come back to me.”
He could barely understand her words. He reached for her and hugged her as tight as he could. They stood there, silhouetted against the rising sun.
“Hey, Storybook, can’t you keep your hands off of her for one minute?” Corbin Lowell Cook could never keep his mouth shut. He had a comment for every occasion. He came around the corner of the depot carrying a very small duffel bag.
“Does that bag contain all of your worldly possessions, Cookbook?” Emory asked him.
“Those are just my county possessions. I’ll fill it with my worldly stuff when we get ‘over there,’” he blurted without thinking. Irene suddenly burst into tears again and ran down the steps toward the tracks.
Emory looked at Corby and said, “Thanks a lot.” He jumped from the platform and followed her until they were both standing in the middle of the tracks.
She looked into his eyes and told him to promise her one more time that he was coming home and not to be a hero. He just stood there holding her until they heard the train whistle. Several people had shown up to say goodbye to the latest crop of young men that were making this journey. Emory saw his parents, his two sisters, Corby’s parents and little brother, several friends, and a few cousins. He suddenly became aware of the reality that he was leaving. Up to this day, he had only left the State of Kentucky on three separate occasions. He squeezed Irene’s hand, and she squeezed back. “I love you, Irene Rose Dixon,” he whispered in her ear. “You wait on me. Write me every day.” He pulled her closer to him and said, “I’ll be home before you know it. Then I am going to marry you.”
She was crying when she looked up at him. “You just come home.”
Corby hurried up beside them and, in his most official voice, said, “All aboard!” He smiled at Irene.
She looked him straight in the eye and said, “Get that silly grin off your face. You listen to me. I’m counting on you to bring him home. Don’t go runnin’ that mouth of yours and gettin’ the both of you in trouble. Just …” She stopped