"He never talked about what he saw?"

"Never," Gram said.

"What?" Elizabeth asked softly when Gram's frowning expression told her there was more.

"I've wondered if he talked to Nick. If they talked to each other. There were times, especially after Charles's stroke, when they'd go to the orchard and stand side by side gazing at the trees. I'd think they weren't speaking, but maybe they were, in the way men do. One word, when we might have used a thousand. And, on occasion, a solemn nod. They wouldn't have needed many words, of course. Wouldn't have needed to explain. They'd both seen the unspeakable."

"Both?"

Gram's unpatched eye opened, concerned.

"Both, Gram?"

"Nick hasn't had a chance to tell you yet."

Oh yes, he has. Whatever it was Nick hadn't told her, it wasn't because he hadn't had the opportunity to do so. Choice, not chance, determined what he'd shared. A choice Nicholas Lawton had every right to make.

"Tell me what?"

"He spent some time in the military."

Enough time, Gram had already revealed, to see the unspeakable. "Close your eye," Elizabeth ordered.

"Not until you stop looking so upset."

Elizabeth flashed a smile. "How's that?"

"Unconvincing."

"I'm fine! So Nick hasn't mentioned his military service to me. Why should he?"

"My vision may have been problematic, but my hearing hasn't. Nick cares about you, Elizabeth. And you care about him. Please remember, darling girl, that our men, our soldiers, need to be able not to tell us about their battles. And because we love them, and trust them, we can give them that gift."

Gram closed her eye then, and moments later drifted off to sleep.

"'Night, dearest Gram," Elizabeth whispered as she withdrew. "I love you."

She stood at the top of the staircase, gathering her emotions. So Nick had omitted that key bit of data about his life. So what? He was under no obligation to tell her anything-much less everything.

This was far from a betrayal. Elizabeth knew betrayal-Matthew's-and had weathered it admirably.

The only trouble was she hadn't been in love with Matthew....

Nick was outside, in the orchard, standing in the precise spot-perhaps-where he and Granddad had shared in silence as much as in words the secrets of men who went to war.

He smiled as she approached. "How is she?"

"Sleeping."

Nick's smile went away. "How are you?"

"How long were you in the military?"

"Twelve and a half years. Elizabeth-"

"You told me you'd always been a handyman."

"I told you," he said quietly, "that from the time I was seven, whenever I saw something that needed to be fixed, I wanted to fix it. That's the reason I became a soldier. I believed I could help make the world a better place. I knew, at least, that I had to try." He met her eyes. "I didn't lie to you. And when I told you about the things Charles might have seen in battle, the fear and rage he might have felt, I was talking about myself. I was telling you, Elizabeth, more than I've ever told anyone...more than I ever believed I would."

"Is there anything else you want to tell me?"

"About my military service? No. There isn't. And I understand what that means. You didn't know the man I was before I went to war. You can't know, as Clara knew about her Charles, that I'd have died before committing-"

"I do know that, Nick!" On faith, she thought. On love. "I do."

"There is something else I want to tell you."

Elizabeth shivered, but not from fear about what he'd reveal. She trusted this man. Believed in this man. "Okay."

"I love you."

"Nick..."

He shivered, too. Not from fear. Her shining eyes gave him her reply.

Elizabeth saw his joy. His desire.

Then he was touching her, holding her head as he gazed at her, wanting her.

"Nick?"

"I love you."

As his mouth found hers, her hands curved over his wrists. She tasted his desire, felt his strength. He had the power to crush her...or to protect her with everything he had.

The kiss ended with a sigh, and a promise. There'd be more, so much more.

His lips caressed her fingertips as he spoke. "I've been wondering what kept me alive, kept me believing the fight was right and good. I'd always thought it was the memory of these trees, this orchard, a farmhouse glowing gold."

"You moved here three years ago."

"I returned here then."

"Oh."

"But there was more to the memory, one I'd give my life to protect-a place where a lovely little girl was free to chase the twinkling Christmas lights on the apple trees she loved...and where, even when she sat sobbing at the end of the driveway, she was safe from harm."

"Because," she whispered, "her hero happened by."

"A lonely boy happened by."

"And she stopped crying."

"He sang to her. And," he said, "she sang to him."

"Off key."

"In her key. A happy key. One he'd love to hear again and again."

"If you'll sing with me."

"Always."

The fingertips he'd been kissing moved to his eyes.

Gram had said the boy who'd rescued her granddaughter had the most brilliant blue eyes. And she was right. Elizabeth saw in his eyes what Gram had seen, the color Nick's eyes became when the loneliness was sent away.

Elizabeth didn't know, although it was true, that tonight's blue was far brighter. For on this night, and all the coming nights and days, his eyes would be filled with love.

Epilogue.

To: Winifred@Codebreakers.org

From: Clara@AppleButterLadies.com

Date: July 18

Subject: Happiness! Seeing clearly! Love!

Dearest Winifred and Helen (for whom I'm popping a colorful copy of this colorful e-mail in today's post), Please accept my apologies for being so remiss in not responding to you before now. As both of you knew, losing Charles has been difficult. I'll always miss him, as you miss your beloved Sam and Richard. I feel he's closer to me now than in those impossible months after he died. He was never very far away, I realize. I just wasn't able to find him. I'm letting the memories of our love come back to me now, and smiling when they do, and he's right there with them.

I have fabulous-and interesting-news.

The fabulous, first. Elizabeth and Nick (yes, Nick!) are in love. Matthew was wrong for her, and, fortunately, she discovered it in time. But Nick is so right for her and loves her as she should be loved, and she loves him-as he should be loved-right back.

They're planning to live in Sarah's Orchard. She'll be the Apple Butter Ladies' "in house" counsel to begin with, and if the legal spirit moves her, she'll branch out from there. Her first corporate responsibility will be to register the official Apple Butter Ladies' logo (the .JPEG is attached, and, Helen, you have an eight-by-twelve-inch glossy). She drew the pictures when she was eight, and we've scanned them into the computer (I'm becoming quite good at scanning) and made the four-quadrant design. The winter apple tree, with its red Christmas lights, will-I think-also become the invitation to Nick and Elizabeth's Christmastime wedding. (You'll each be receiving one.) I'm so thrilled for both of them. And I know, know, that Charles is, too. As for my social-butterfly daughter, we'll discover what she's really made of (ancient blue-blood genes or motherly love) when she and Thomas visit next weekend. Call me an optimist, but I'm betting on her daughter's happiness trumping every snobbish impulse she might have.

My interesting news is that I've recently had cataract surgery. (Cataract-surgery advocate that I've become, I plan to have both eyes done). I'm more than an advocate. I feel like sharing what feels like a miracle to everyone I know (or don't know!). That's why I'm attaching (and including) a few articles on the topic. If any of the signs or symptoms seem familiar to you, please, please, please make an appointment with an ophthalmologist. Or, even better, come on down and see mine, Dr. Diana Hathaway, the loveliest and most competent surgeon you'll ever meet. If the prospect of making the trip to Sarah's Orchard is off-putting, too much of an ordeal, that may be a symptom in itself. Elizabeth, Nick and I would be delighted to provide door-to-door service-anytime!

You can see how giddy I am about this. But it's such a gift to see colors again. Without my even realizing it, the world had become a dull, dull gray. And I can read again. And play cards. And smile at the night sky. And send belated messages to my two dearest friends.

I'll write often, now that once again I can. Our friendship means so much to me and has meant so much for so long, I can hardly bear to think it might have faded (as colors did) because of tiny deposits in my eyes-aaaaaah! Never.

Take care, dear ones. All my love,

Clara.

ISBN: 978-1-4268-3351-9.

HEARTS DIVIDED.

Copyright 2006 by MIRA Books.

The publisher acknowledges the copyright holders of the individual works as follows: 5-B POPPY LANE.

Copyright 2006 by Debbie Macomber.

LIBERTY HALL.

Copyright 2006 by Lois Faye Dyer.

THE APPLE ORCHARD.