Free An April Bride by Lenora Worth

an elaborate white bow. “This morning a customer at the store told me she had given up on love, and when I asked her what she meant by that, she explained that her husband died in Vietnam. She never remarried.”
    Stella gazed up at him with those big eyes, her expressionfull of thankfulness. “I thought about how that could be me. All alone and bitter. I shouldn’t whine about anything when I have you standing right here in front of me.”
    She placed the gift box on the side table with several other unopened packages. “Looking back, I can see I’ve been so caught up in the wedding, I forgot to plan for the marriage. I need to consider that our lives are about to change. Even more than they already have.”
    Marshall once again marveled at this woman’s strong faith and practical logic. The way she looked at him told him how much she loved him. His heart did a little shifting thing, like a flower breaking through dry, cracked dirt. The stirring in his soul made him reach for her and tug her close.
    “We can make this work,” he said, wanting it. “Changes happen in life, right? We can make this work.”
    “My mama always says marriage is hard work,” she replied. “I just never knew it would be this hard.”
    “We can have some good parts,” he said, hoping she’d be able to enjoy being with him. “Like this.” He lifted her chin and gave her a tentative kiss. Then he leaned back and stared down at her, marveling at her grace and determination. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
    She smiled, but he saw a hint of that mist in her eyes. “I remember your kisses,” she said in a soft whisper. “I missed you so much, Marsh.”
    He should tell her that he missed her too. That her kisses seemed familiar and wonderful. He should tell her that he loved her, that he knew in his heart he’d always loved her.
    But that old cold dread held him back.
    “I’ve missed out on much more than towels and cookware, haven’t I?”
    “Yes,” she said, her head down. “I wish I could make it all right again, but . . . that’s in God’s hands.”
    “Do you believe God will give me back my memories?”
    She gazed up at him, her face mirroring his doubts. “I believe God has allowed you to store your memories in a safe place, but maybe you’re not so sure. Maybe you’re afraid to bring them back out.”
    He almost told her about the dream, about seeing her walking toward him with her hand outstretched. But as with all the other times he’d thought of the dream, his heart started racing and he broke out in a cold sweat, the fear that gripped him cutting at his breath.
    “Marsh, are you all right?”
    Dazed, he blinked and nodded. “I . . . I think I need some air. Just . . . can we go outside?”
    “C’mon,” she replied, fear clouding her eyes. “I’m sorry for dragging you in here.”
    “It’s okay. I’m okay. Just . . . need some air.”
    She hurried him down the hallway and out onto the back porch. Marshall grabbed one of the sturdy posts and held on, his head down, his mind whirling with dark images. Why couldn’t he get past this? When would it end?
    Would he be forced to walk away from Stella so he could heal himself? His gut told him if he walked away now, he’d never be able to come back to her.
    Trust in the Lord .
    The words shattered the dark walls around his soul.
    He had to trust that he was doing the right thing and forall the right reasons. He had to trust in the plan God had for his life.
    And the only way to do that was to march forward toward the light of Stella’s undying love so he could emerge a new and better man than the one she thought she’d lost.
    He took another deep breath and then turned to Stella. “I’m sorry. It’s the PTSD. It comes and goes. I’ll be okay.”
    “Is there anything I can do?”
    “No. I have images of war inside my head. They come at odd times and . . . sometimes I still have nightmares.” He didn’t go into detail or tell her that she was