Free Bridge to Haven by Francine Rivers

backpack and dropped it on the ground. Abra looked out over Haven. “You can see everything from up here.”
    “Almost.” He seemed to be drinking in the sight.
    She’d been thinking of all kinds of possibilities. “So. You and Lacey Glover are back together and you’re getting married.”
    “Married? Where did you get that idea? I’m not dating anyone. I’ve been—”
    He stopped so abruptly, she knew she wasn’t going to like whatever he had to say. “You’ve been what?”
    He looked grim. “Drafted.”
    Abra closed her eyes, her lips trembling. She remembered standing in the graveyard and watching Marianne’s coffin being lowered into the ground.
    She sat heavily on the ground, put her elbows on her knees and her hands over her head. She sucked in a sobbing breath. “Why do you have to go?”
    “Because I’ve been called.” He sat beside her. “It doesn’t mean I won’t be back.”
    It hurt to breathe. “So you brought me all the way up here to tell me that.”
    “I’ve been putting it off for weeks. I didn’t want to spoil what time I had left with you.”
    She was afraid to ask, but she had to know. “Are you going to Korea?”
    He shook his head. “I don’t know. Boot camp first; then I’ll get orders to wherever I’m to serve.” He frowned. “We have bases in Europe and Japan. I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”
    She leaned against him and he put his arm around her shoulders. She scooted even closer, until her hip was against his. “I love you.”
    She felt him kiss the top of her head. “I love you, too. I always have. I always will.”
    “How many people know you’re going?”
    “Dad. Jack Wooding. Now you.”
    “What about Penny? Peter and Priscilla?”
    “You can tell them. I think Priscilla has already guessed.” He rubbed the top of her head with his chin. “When are you going to start calling them Mom and Dad?”
    Abra snuggled herself against him and cried. “Promise you’ll come home.”
    “I promise to try.”

    Abra ran home from school, eager to see if another letter had arrived from Joshua. He had arrived at Fort Ord. He described the base near Monterey Bay and said he’d been assigned to a holding barracks,then a training barracks, where he received his uniform. An NCO platoon leader would oversee the training for the next eight weeks. More letters followed.
Our NCO is tough, but every man here respects him. He made it through D-day, so everything he says carries weight. We march everywhere and exercise several times a day. The obstacle courses are a challenge I enjoy, but I’m getting tired of running miles in formation every day, rain or shine. . . .
    He said he missed having time alone in the hills. Every hour of his day was scheduled, and all of it in the company of the other men.
My bunkmate is from Georgia and a Christian, too. He’s got a better voice than I do and sings so loud at chapel some men laugh at him. He says, “Amen” every time the chaplain makes a point, which startled me at first. I’m getting used to it. He worked for a peanut farmer, but joined up when he heard President Truman desegregated the armed forces.
    Joshua took his first leave and spent it down at Cannery Row with buddies from the barracks. Abra went to the library and checked out John Steinbeck’s Cannery Row . In her next letter, she asked if he was looking for the Bear Flag Restaurant. Joshua wrote a swift response.
If you’re asking what I think you’re asking, the answer is no! I was not looking for a girl. I was looking for something better to eat than mess food. Tell Bessie I miss Oliver’s cooking.
    Mitzi wanted Abra to practice on the church baby grand. So every Saturday, they met there. Mitzi would give her instructions and thenleave her to practice while she checked the hymnals in the pews or found something to do in the fellowship hall. Pastor Zeke often came into the sanctuary to sit and listen. “You get better all the time, Abra.”
    She found