“We booked her passage. She has to have her travel arrangements before they’ll grant a visa, but that doesn’t mean she’ll actually get on the ship.” Scarlett had made her feelings all too clear when it came to leaving him, but that had been before the latest barrage of bombings.
“I know some people at the State Department,” his uncle said quietly. “I’ll see what I can do to help move that wheel, but sticking your family on a ship with all those U-boats prowling the Atlantic might be a bigger gamble than letting them sleep in their own beds.”
“I know,” Jameson said softly, running his hands over his face. “I love her more than I love myself. She is everything to me, and William is the best of both of us. If I can’t even save my own son, then what good did I do coming here? What was it all for?”
The two men sat in silence for several moments, both knowing that neither option was safe. Then Jameson realized there was one.
“I need a favor,” Jameson said, turning in his chair to face his uncle.
“Anything. You know I love you like you’re my own.”
Jameson nodded. “I’m counting on it.”
His uncle’s eyes, the same mossy green shade as his own, narrowed slightly. “What do you have in mind, Jameson?”
“I want you to help me get my family out.”
…
“Thank God!” Scarlett exclaimed as she raced into Jameson’s arms.
He kissed her before he said a word, lifting her in his arms in their living room. He kissed her over and over, pouring his relief, his love, and his hope into it, until she melted against him.
“I’ve done the wash, and you have a clean uniform in our bedroom,” she said, her hands cupping his cheeks.
“I’ll put it on in the morning,” he assured her with a smile.
Her eyes lit up. “You can stay the night with us?”
“I can stay the night with you.” He would stay every night that was humanly possible between now and the date he’d discussed with his uncle.
Her smile was brighter than he’d ever seen, and she kissed him soundly in reply. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you,” he whispered before kissing her again.
“I want nothing more than to carry you upstairs and make love to you until we’re both limp,” he whispered against her lips.
“That plan is brilliant,” she replied with a smile. “With one exception.”
That exception was currently crawling their way, drool spilling from the corner of his lips.
“He’s teething,” Scarlett explained with a slight grimace.
Jameson let go of his wife, only to scoop up his son and hug him tight. “Are you getting new teeth?” he asked before blowing raspberries on William’s neck.
…
“Of course he is all smiles for you.” Scarlett rolled her eyes. The way Jameson looked at their son stopped her heart. It was equal parts love and awe and only served to make her husband even more attractive.
Jameson’s face fell and took Scarlett’s stomach with it. “He won’t be in a minute,” he said softly.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“We need to talk about something,” he said quietly, then dragged his gaze to meet hers.
“Tell me,” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Your appointment is next week, right?”
Her chest tightened, but she nodded.
“I know you agreed to go to the States if something happened to me, but what do you think about going sooner?” He shifted William in his arms protectively, at odds with his words.
“Sooner? Why?” she whispered, her heart breaking. It was one thing to know that William wasn’t safe here, but it was another for Jameson to send them away.
“It’s too dangerous,” Jameson said. “The raids, the bombings, the deaths. I won’t be able to live with myself if I have to bury either one of you.” His voice came out as though it had been scraped over broken pieces of shrapnel.
“There’s no guarantee I’ll even get a visa,” she countered, her heart fighting what her mind had already told her was best. “We’ve talked about traveling before.”
Nearly all of the commercial ships had been pressed into military service, and while it had been possible, barely, to book passage across the Atlantic, there was still danger. She lost track of how many civilians had died when the U-boats sank their ships from underneath them.
“I love you, Scarlett. There’s nothing I won’t do to keep you safe.” He gazed lovingly at their son. “Keep you both safe. So, I’m asking you to go to the States. I’ve found what I think is the safest way to do it.”
“You want me to go?” Thousands of emotions hit Scarlett all at once—anger, frustration, sorrow, everything seemed to roll up into one ball and lodge itself in her throat.
“No, but can you honestly tell me it’s safe here for William?” His voice faded at their son’s name.
“I don’t want to leave you,” she whispered. She hugged herself tighter, for fear that if she let go even the slightest bit, she would shatter to pieces at his feet. He was right, it wasn’t safe. She’d come to the same conclusion yesterday in that air-raid shelter, but the thought of leaving Jameson was a knife in her soul.
He pulled her against him, tucking her in tight into his side as he held their son in his other arm. “I don’t want you to go,” he admitted in a guttural rush. “But if I can save you, I will. Exeter, Bath, Norwich, York, the list goes on. Over a thousand civilians have died in the last week alone.”
“I know.” Her hands fisted in the material of his uniform, as if she could stay if she held on just a little tighter, but this wasn’t about them anymore. It was about their son, the life they’d created together. Thousands of British mothers had trusted their children to strangers to keep them from harm’s way, and here, she had the chance to deliver her son from harm herself. “You want us to take the ship to America?” she asked slowly, tasting the bittersweet words on her tongue.
“Not exactly…”
She looked up at Jameson and arched an eyebrow.
“I saw my uncle today.”
Her eyes flew wide. “I’m sorry?”
“Uncle Vernon. He’s here flying with ATC. He’ll be back in a little less than a month.”
Scarlett swallowed. “At which time he’ll come to dinner so I can meet him?” she guessed hopefully, knowing that wasn’t what he meant.