A Memory Between Us by Sarah Sundin Page A

above it all, to clear blue hope.”
    The biscuit turned dry in Ruth’s mouth. Hope? Her only hope was to push on and meet her goals. Nothing clear or blue about it.
    Jack smeared jam on a biscuit. “Well, May, you sure know about gray days.”
    What did content, placid May Jensen know about gray days? But as May lowered her reddening face, Ruth realized she knew nothing about the woman except she came from Minneapolis.
    “You ever hear her story, Ruth?” Jack asked.
    A pang of embarrassment. “Well, no.”
    “There’s nothing to tell.” May made great work of layering ham and cheese in a biscuit.
    “Sure, there is,” Jack said. “You have a lot in common. You’re both orphans.”
    Ruth stared at her. Come to think of it, May never mentioned family, but May didn’t talk about herself. She asked questions and listened, and Ruth had never asked. “You—you lost your parents too?”
    May squirmed. “My mother died in childbirth, and my father died in the flu epidemic when I was a baby.”
    At least Ruth had the privilege of knowing her parents. “Your family raised you?”
    “No. It’s a long story.” May’s cheek twitched, a flicker of hurt, and suddenly Ruth understood why May still pursued friendship with her.
    “Who … who … ?”
    May met her gaze. “I was raised in an orphanage.”
    “An orphanage?” Cold fear gripped her heart as it had when Ma died, the fear of her brothers and sisters in the loathsome place. “Was it—was it awful?”
    “I never knew otherwise.” May lifted one shoulder. “We were always cold and hungry, but wasn’t everyone in those days? And … well, I wasn’t the type to be adopted, but it helped to know Jesus was rejected. I think he has a special place in his heart for those of us who are alone, don’t you?”
    Ruth nodded because it was expected, but she hadn’t thought about it. Jesus had friends—but his friends betrayed him, denied him, and fled. Ruth’s throat constricted. Could he understand?
    “It wasn’t all bad.” May leaned forward, her eyebrows tented. “Please don’t misunderstand me. I was blessed. The couple who ran the home had deep faith in God and taught me likewise, and I loved the children who came and went. I was able to comfort them. Even as a little girl, I had a ministry, and that led me to nursing and to Thomas.” Then she clamped her lips together.
    Ruth sensed May’s reluctance, but for some reason she pressed on. “Thomas?”
    “He was—he was a seminary student who volunteered at the home. We shared a heart for orphans. We were engaged.”
    Were? Ruth’s question stuck under her tongue.
    “Go on,” Jack said softly. “Tell her.”
    May raised a fluttery smile. “We joined the service together, our patriotic duty. He was a Navy chaplain. He was at Pearl Harbor. On the Arizona .”
    “Oh no.” Ruth’s voice tumbled out. “I’m so sorry.”
    “It’s all right. He’s with Jesus, and I’ve had a year and a half to heal. I’m fine.”
    “You are fine.” Jack rolled onto his stomach, propped up on his elbows. “Which is why you should let me introduce you to Charlie de Groot. He’s a strong Christian and he’d like to meet you.”
    Tiny May could pack a lot of power in those colorless eyes. “I told you. I don’t want to meet anyone.”
    “Come on. I’ll bring him on our next picnic two weeks from now.” He turned to Ruth. “Isn’t that fair? We made you suffer today. Next time shouldn’t it be May’s turn?”
    “Sounds fair to me.” Oh no, he’d tricked her into another picnic.
    Surprise registered in his eyes and his smile. “Next time then.”
    She scowled at him. “When’s it your turn to suffer?”
    Jack rested his chin on his forearms. “Let’s see. I got shot up, spent over six weeks in the hospital, and I’m fraternizing with two lovely officers who’ve seen my bare bum, as they say around here. I think I’ve suffered plenty.”
    May laughed, but Ruth saw opportunity in the white