Chapter Nine
Needles of pain shot through Emily’s back. She’d fallen asleep on the sofa after breakfast, and the lumpy cushions had done nothing to support her body. She massaged the muscles around her kidneys and winced. Rotating her neck, she rubbed her shoulders.
“Hey, sleepyhead. You’re finally awake.” Gerard stood in the doorway to the kitchen, a towel tossed over his shoulder. “While you snored, I washed the dishes and checked supplies. Not much here, but it should keep us in good stead for a few days before we shop.”
Her face heated. “I didn’t snore. Did I?”
“Not too loudly.” He shook his head and chuckled. “Kidding. You didn’t make a peep.”
He winked, and she ducked her head to peer at her watch. Three hours had passed since she agreed to get some shut-eye in preparation for the rest of their day. She pulled on the band holding her hair in a ponytail, then finger-combed her tangled strands. She must look like bride of Frankenstein’s monster. “Where’s the powder room? I’d like to freshen up.”
“Down the hall, second door on the right. Don’t take too long. We need to review our plans.”
She rose, hitched up her slacks, and smoothed her shirt. Executing a mock salute, Emily sauntered out of the living room. She found the bathroom and shut the door. A pale, haggard version of her face stared at her from the mirror. After reforming a ponytail, she opened the faucet and filled her cupped hands with water, splashing the sleep from her eyes.
A tiny piece of soap perched on the edge of the sink. She grabbed it and turned on the water in the tub. Stripping off her clothes, she lowered herself and sighed. The cool liquid brought tingles to her muscles.
Thank You, Father, for providing a bathroom with running water. I’ll never take modern plumbing for granted again. She hummed her favorite hymn as she lathered up, then rinsed off. Footsteps sounded in the hallway then muffled bumps and bangs. More reconnaissance?
Gerard’s face sprang to mind. Why hadn’t he looked bedraggled and weary? Instead, he appeared rested and ready for the day. Maybe he’d bathed while she snoozed. No, he’d promised to keep watch. The army must provide a class on how to look neat and refreshed after an all-night hike and no sleep. He’d obviously passed with flying colors.
She giggled then clamped her teeth over her lips. This was a mission, not a date, although the two of them alone in the house created an intimacy she’d not expected.
Emily let out the water and toweled off, then slapped her forehead. She’d been in such a rush to clean up, she’d forgotten her satchel. Reaching for her discarded outfit and using it as a cover, she peeked out the bathroom door and caught sight of her bag propped against the jamb. Gerard had anticipated her needs. She dragged on the clothes, her muscles protesting. “That man is an enigma. One minute forceful and obnoxious, the next thoughtful and solicitous.”
Like no one she’d ever known. She’d rarely dated, but the boys she’d stepped out with seemed two dimensional and dull compared to Gerard. Quick witted, his humor was razor sharp and at times self-deprecating. His eyes missed nothing, and he seemed to process situations with lightning speed. She couldn’t ask for a better partner. If she lived through the mission, her survival would be because of him, not anything she did.
Emily brushed her hair and studied her reflection. The puffiness on her lids remained, but the redness had disappeared. Somewhat bloodshot, her eyes still held vestiges of fatigue. She rummaged through the bag until she found her toothbrush and powder.
She needed to be convincing as a blushing bride, but she’d never been good as a simpering female. Would the townspeople believe their charade?
Since arriving, he’d been nothing like the overbearing dictator-instructor who’d drilled her during the last three months. He’d fed her, tucked her in, and then taken care of the house. What would it be like to be his wife for real?
Her face flushed, and Emily looked away from the glass. She balled up her dirty clothes and grabbed the handle of her valise. She opened the door and made her way to the bedroom where she stashed her things in the closet.
Rule number one: Never get romantically involved with your partner.
She rubbed the back of her neck. How was she supposed to remain detached when HQ had paired them as a married couple? They’d hold hands, his strong, calloused palm cradling hers. Would Gerard kiss her, stroke her hair, or put his arm around her like any normal man in love?
What would it be like to have his lips on hers or his fingers threaded through her hair? To be wrapped in his embrace? A shiver crawled up her spine. It would be breathtaking. Of that she had no doubt.
She lifted her chin. College drama club was in the past, but she’d give a performance worthy of an Academy Award, and no one would be the wiser. Only she would know he was beginning to edge his way into her heart.
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Gerard sat at the scarred wooden table and studied the map. He’d already committed it to memory, but contemplating the scrap of silk might take his mind off the proximity of his partner during her morning ablutions.
The door opened down the hall, and moments later Emily appeared in the kitchen. Her hair hung down her back in a wet rope, her face glowed from scrubbing. She’d changed into a simple white, buttoned-down shirt and black pants. He glanced at her bare feet, slender with nails trimmed short and painted a light pink. He’d never figured her for a nail-polish girl. She continued to surprise him.
She dropped into the nearest chair. “What are your plans for the day? Have you figured out how to make contact with any of the Resistance cells?”
He shrugged. “First, let’s figure out the best place to hide your radio. We should have done that first thing this morning. I’m getting sloppy, and that won’t do.”
“Is pulling up one of the floorboards too obvious?”
“Yes, but hiding it in the open, so to speak, may be the best idea.”
“It’s been two years since the Germans arrived. These people must be worn down from fear and looking over their shoulders. How does the free zone manage to remain unoccupied?”
“The name is a bit of a misnomer. Technically, the zone is under Vichy rule, but for some reason Marshal Pétain administers the laws in the south in an unrestricted fashion, rather than the strict way he does so in the north. I’m not sure how much longer Hitler will allow the demarcation to occur. He won’t stop until he’s swallowed all of Europe and more.”
Emily shuddered. “He is a madman, but from what I understand, he created a sense of pride within Germany, so that many have chosen to overlook his actions.”
“I find it hard to believe that everyone in the German army follows his rhetoric or that of the Nazis. As in our own country, military service is mandated. What is it like to put your life on the line for a cause you don’t support?”
“That would be awful, wouldn’t it? Young men who want to hold a job and raise a family being forced to carry a gun and go to war.” She shook her head. “Will you apply for work at the factory immediately?”