Shouts rang out in the street.
Emily’s stomach roiled, threatening to spill its meager contents. She swallowed then licked her lips. Her knees quavered, so she yanked out the chair and dropped onto the rickety seat. She gripped the potato and continued to peel.
Heavy pounding rattled the door on its hinges. “Öffne die Tür!”
She lifted her chin and gave Gerard a curt nod. “Un moment.” Wiping her hands on her apron, she crossed the room and turned the knob.
Two lanky men towered over her, their mouths twisted in snarls. One wore a gestapo uniform, the other the attire of a Vichy policeman. “We have reason to believe you are hiding a radio. We will find it, and you will be arrested.”
“We…we have nothing like that here, sirs. We are simple folks, but you are welcome to search our home.” She stepped back.
They marched into the house, their necks swiveling as their gazes swept back and forth.
She ducked her head to hide her smile. There was nothing funny about their presence, but they looked like a pair of puppets connected by the same string. “Do you mind if I continue to prepare lunch?”
The German glowered. “Nein. You will stand against the wall and wait.” He motioned to Gerard. “You, too.”
Gerard rose with seeming difficulty, his neck and back bowed. He shuffled to Emily’s side, his leg dragging in an uneven gait.
“You’re pathetic. What happened to you?”
“An accident at work last year. A machine misfired…took my eye and broke my leg in four places. Your doctors considered amputating it, but they were able to save it. I worked at a munitions factory…for the führer. They shipped me home after I healed.”
“You are lucky it happened in Germany. Our physicians are the best in the world. Elsewhere, you would have lost the limb.”
“Yes, sir.”
Emily reached over and clasped Gerard’s hand, her heart pounding. “We married shortly after he came home.”
The man smirked. “Ah, newlyweds. How fortunate for you this woman was willing to settle for a less than perfect man.”
Gerard wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “I am indeed blessed. We have known each other since childhood.”
“You are lucky someone would have you. The Frau obviously doesn’t mind not having children.”
The shorter man narrowed his eyes. “I know you, don’t I?”
She shook her head. “Non. How could you? I have never left the village.”
“You are lying. My name is Phillippe Caron, and we were at university together.”
Her palms slicked, and Gerard squeezed her hand in silent support.
“I didn’t attend college. My family had no money for that.” Could he hear the tremble in her voice?
Caron stepped forward, inches from her. He leaned down, his nose a hairsbreadth from hers. “You can continue to deny it, but the fact is, you are not telling the truth. You are that American mademoiselle who spent two terms at university. I know because I could never forget that face. You may not remember me, but I certainly remember you.”
His partner strode toward her. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head backward. “Is this true? Are you an American?”
Emily cried out, her eyes squeezed shut against the pain. Her scalped burned.
Gerard rose up and swung at the man, but Caron caught his punch and shoved him to the floor. He fell with a grunt. “Leave my wife alone. She is not who you say. We are poor people who mind our own business.”
“Are you calling me stupid? I recognize this woman. She may be your wife, but I doubt it. She is the American I knew at school. I watched her every day. I was a sniveling schoolboy at the time, without the nerve to ask her out, but now I am a man…a man with the power to let her live…or not.”
“Please…you’re hurting me.” Emily wrapped her hands around the soldier’s arm who continued to grip her hair. Would their mission fail because of an unrequited crush she knew nothing about? She truly didn’t remember Caron, but he had recognized her. Her math skills were poor, but the odds of a schoolmate from ten years ago arriving in a tiny French village had to be astronomical. Really, Lord. What is Your plan with this?
Caron laid his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Monsieur Krause, please release her. You gestapo are too rough for my taste.”
Krause glared at Caron. “Sturmbannführer, and this is my interrogation. You are here as a representative of the French government, but I did not have to allow you to accompany me. I could have brought one of my officers.”
“Understood.” He leered at Emily then stroked her cheek. “But when you are finished questioning her, I would like some time with the woman, and I’d rather she wasn’t damaged. I will show her what it’s like to be with a real man, not this pitiful excuse.”
Emily gasped, and Gerard scrambled to his feet, his hands clenched.
Caron laughed and pulled out his gun, his mouth twisted. “Suddenly, you can walk?”
Krause shoved Emily toward Gerard and withdrew his weapon. “Perhaps you are correct, after all, Caron. We have found the spies.” He yanked off Gerard’s eyepatch and tossed it on the floor. “Lieber Gott. Your eye is not missing. It is a miracle.”
“I didn’t mean I’d literally lost the eye. I meant my vision.” Gerard scowled. “We are telling the truth.”
Krause slapped Gerard. “No, you are not. We will take all the time we need to get the answers we are looking for. It seems you care for this woman at some level, so perhaps if we threaten her safety, you will answer our questions.”
Emily clenched her fists, her fingernails biting into her palms. Perspiration trickled between her shoulder blades as the two men verbally sparred. The situation was escalating. Would she and Gerard get out alive?
Gerard snorted a harsh laugh. “You Germans think you are the master race, yet your tactics involve intimidating a woman. What man does that? You are nothing but a bully trying to prove he is a man. You have failed.”
With a roar, Krause raised his arm and struck Gerard with the butt of his pistol. “I should kill you where you stand.”
Stumbling but remaining on his feet, Gerard lowered his head and charged his attacker. They fell to the ground, and the gun skidded across the floor.
Caron pointed his weapon at the two men, the barrel wavering.
Emily watched the fight, her eyes wide and her lips trembling. Should she try to disarm Caron? She didn’t want to make matters worse. She peeked at him in her peripheral vision. He seemed intent on the combatants rather than her. Could she get his gun?
The men climbed to their feet, and Gerard punched Krause, temporarily stunning the man.
Krause growled and stretched out his arm toward the discarded weapon, his fingers scrabbling on the floor. Closer. Closer. His palm wrapped around the grip, and he turned the gun toward Gerard.
A scream tore from Emily’s throat.
Panting and grunting, Gerard grabbed Krause’s arm and shoved it away. The weapon discharged, and Caron clutched his chest, his eyes clouding. He faltered, his pistol tumbling from his grasp. He took one step then a second before falling to his knees. A bubbling gasp escaped his mouth, and he pitched forward, coming to rest in silence.