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    Till the World Is Safe for Dreams
    Till the World Is Safe for Dreams
    Till the World Is Safe for Dreams
    Ebook74 pages1 hour

    Till the World Is Safe for Dreams

    By Fleeta Cunningham

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    About this ebook

    A lot of dreams were put on hold when the bombs hit Pearl Harbor, including Kay and Jeremy’s wedding plans. Now he’s half a world away, injured, and Kay is hiding her worry about his wounds from her meddlesome grandmother and aunts, who disregard the realities of war and are determined to plan a fairytale wedding. Kay is carrying on, spending her days in a war plant, forging bonds with other women who worry and wait. Then she receives the news that Jeremy’s injuries are serious, life threatening. Will he come back? If he does, will he be the same? Will the world ever be safe for dreams?
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherThe Wild Rose Press
    Release dateNov 24, 2014
    ISBN9781628304916
    Till the World Is Safe for Dreams
    Author

    Fleeta Cunningham

    A fifth generation Texan, Fleeta Cunningham has lived her entire life in Texas, both small towns and big cities. Drawing on all of them, she writes about the unique character--and characters--of the southern states. After a career as a law librarian for a major Texas law firm, writing a monthly column for a professional newsletter and other legal publications, she returned to her home in Central Texas to write full time. Fleeta has been writing in one form or another since the age of eight. When she isn't writing, she teaches creative writing classes, makes quilts, and designs miniature gowns for her huge collection of fashion dolls.

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      Book preview

      Till the World Is Safe for Dreams - Fleeta Cunningham

      Inc.

      Praise for Fleeta Cunningham and…

      ELOPEMENT FOR ONE

      Well-crafted story... exciting plot...interesting characters...The love between the two main characters is precious, from beginning to the final, exciting conclusion...I am now determined to read the rest of the series.

      ~The Romance Studio (5 Stars)

      BLACK RAIN RISING

      One of the most fantastic books I’ve read this year...grabbed my attention from the first sentence...A memorable, entertaining, and well-written story...An author of increasing distinction who will never disappoint her readers.

      ~Two Lips Reviews (5 Lips, Recommended)

      DON’T CALL ME DARLIN’

      A warm, thought-provoking book...an enticing hero and a wounded yet proud heroine. A realistic picture of 1957...an image of small town America that both warms and terrifies...The best thing is she balances the build-up with a really good ending.

      ~WRDF (rated Fantastic)

      Till the World

      Is Safe

      for Dreams

      by

      Fleeta Cunningham

      Twelve Brides of Christmas Series

      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.

      Till the World Is Safe for Dreams

      COPYRIGHT © 2014 by Fleeta Cunningham

      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: info@thewildrosepress.com

      Cover Art by Diana Carlile

      The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

      PO Box 708

      Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

      Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

      Publishing History

      First Vintage Rose Edition, 2014

      Digital ISBN 978-1-62830-491-6

      Twelve Brides of Christmas Series

      Published in the United States of America

      Dedication

      To my mother

      and all the others who waited without knowing,

      "Is he coming home, will he be all right,

      will my baby know his daddy?"

      Kay Abbott’s heart stuttered when she pulled the V-mail envelope from the mailbox. Jeremy! Then she looked again. She didn’t recognize the handwriting, though the neat address had been written in perfect script. It wasn’t Jeremy’s hurried scrawl, but it was addressed to her. Something’s happened to Jeremy! Her fingers trembled, too clumsy to open the tiny envelope.

      It’s not necessarily bad news, she cautioned herself.

      Miss Abbott,

      I write you at the request of Captain Jeremy Wayne. First let me assure you, though he suffered an injury in a recent sortie, he is in hospital and expecting to make a complete recovery. He sprained his right wrist, and his leg was broken when he jumped from his plane, but he is in excellent spirits and sends his love. He will write himself as soon as the doctor permits. He anticipates returning to active duty soon and encourages you to keep well and continue planning your future together. Best regards,

      Sister Madeline Shore

      Harewood House, Leeds

      Kay gripped the fencepost. Jeremy! Hurt but recovering! She read the four-by-five page again. Broken leg, sprained wrist, painful but not life threatening. He’ll be back flying, leading his bomb squadron, in record time. She knew her man. Nothing kept him down.

      Kay heard steps, and the screen door creaked. She stuffed the letter into her pocket as her mother pushed the door wide open. Mary Katherine, your grandmother is waiting. And Tante Germaine and Tante Léonie have come with her.

      No doubt the three French Hens’ feathers are ruffled about something, and they have to share it. I’ll be right there, Mom. I just want to change and brush Monday out of my hair.

      Yes, please leave the kerchief, overalls, and brogans upstairs. Your grandmother will be horrified if you come to the table dressed like that. Kay heard the chuckle in her mother’s voice. Grandmère hadn’t quite bent her standards to accommodate the deprivations of war. In her mind, young ladies still wore dainty slippers, not heavy work shoes. They embroidered pretty linens for their future homes. They didn’t stitch uniform shirts at a clattering industrial Singer nine hours a day. And as for Kay’s denim overalls with the kangaroo pocket, Grandmère would simply shudder and recall with regret the pride young women took in their appearance in her day.

      Kay untied the red turban scarf and shook her hair loose. Tell them I’ll be right there. I know they’ve heard every bit of news in town and want to tell all. She ran her fingers through her short gold curls, letting the late October breeze fluff the ends. Is it really tea? Or could it be lemonade?

      No sugar for lemonade, dear, and it’s only black tea, I’m afraid. Her mother’s grey eyes brightened. But Tante Germaine made honey spice bread. Will that help?

      Kay shrugged off the memory of a meatless lunch hours back and thought of her aunt’s lovely bread, all but dripping with honey. Her bread beats anybody’s cake. I’ll be right there. She took the stairs two at a time, only stopping when she reached her own room and could close the door behind her. She took the V-mail envelope out of her pocket to read it again. Jeremy hadn’t been able to write for himself. That sounded ominous, but the nurse said he’d sprained his wrist. Somehow Kay wasn’t as confident as she had been initially. Once she’d had a moment to think, she was certain Jeremy would downplay his injuries. He’d insist the nurse tell as little as possible; she knew he’d keep back anything that would worry her, if he could. Was there more to his injury than first appeared?

      Mary Katherine? Her mother’s voice drifted up the stairwell. We’re waiting for you.

      The reminder cut Kay’s fretting short. Yes, yes, I’ll be right there. She tucked the envelope into the bundle of similar packets in her dresser drawer and turned to her scanty wardrobe. Considering the scarcity of shoes and how long it would be before she could have another pair, she carefully untied the laces of her work shoes and slipped them off. She wiped dust from the leather and took a glance at

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