by Cassie Miles
“Maybe you’ll stop suspecting me.” She took another small step closer. “I’m not a spy. You should know that.”
“Because we almost slept together?”
Her cheeks colored with a rosy flush. “Believe me, Luke, I regret that indiscretion as much as you do.”
“Indiscretion? That’s a ladylike word.”
He could see the hurt in her eyes, but she didn’t back off. “Think about what happened before we were in your cabin. The fall I took on the slope. The hypothermia. The altitude sickness. You know I wasn’t faking those symptoms.”
“So?”
“If I was a spy, would I have nearly killed myself to meet you? How could I have known that you’d come along in the nick of time? Our meeting was purely accidental.”
“I believe we met by accident, but I’m not your target. Fermi is.” And she’d gone after him like a vampire to an open vein. “I’m just a G.I. you bumped into along the way.”
“You’re much more than that.” She turned on her heel and walked away from him. “I hope you’ll take my plan under consideration. Neither of us want to put Dr. Fermi in danger.”
He caught hold of her arm and spun her around to face him again. Every instinct in his body urged him to taste her lips, to hold her tight and feel her hips grinding against him. “If you’re lying to me, Shana, I’ll make you pay.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Simple question. Where were you born?”
“New York City.”
“Where did you grow up?”
“All over the world. My father is a diplomat.”
At last, he had a straight answer from her. “Call him. Call your father and he can vouch for you.”
“I can’t. He’s nowhere I can reach him.”
She pulled her arm away from him and took a step back, retreating into cool secrecy. There was something she wasn’t telling him. Something big.
Quietly, he said, “You know, Shana, treason is punishable by death.”
Instead of fear, he saw sadness in her eyes. Resignation and sadness. With all his heart, he wanted to trust her, but he just wasn’t that big a fool.
Chapter Five
Forty-five minutes into the drive, Shana began to think her plan wasn’t such a great idea after all. The four-person jeep had no shock absorbers and no seat belts, and their route led from one rutted dirt road to another. Every time she found a comfortable position, Luke crashed into another pothole. From the backseat, she glared daggers into the back of his helmet.
Seated beside her was Private First Class Henry Harrison. Every ten minutes or so, he’d jolt to alertness, sight down the barrel of his rifle and aim into the forests like a kid playing at soldier. Shana silently prayed that PFC Henry Harrison would never see action on the front lines.
The guy she’d called Moe—whose real name was Edward Martin—sat in front beside Luke and droned on with a whiny monologue about food. He complained about the powdered eggs for breakfast and the split pea soup—which he called split puke—for lunch. Mostly, he discussed his ideas for improving the tasteless K rations. Apparently, Martin had been a chef before he was conscripted into the army.
Luke eased up the final approach and parked. “We’re here.”
Creaking like a hundred-year old-woman, she climbed out of the jeep, took a few steps, groaned and stared up the hillside to the site of the first uranium mine where she would take samples. This location was at a considerably lower elevation than Camp Hale. Here the snow was mostly melted, leaving broad patches amid wide swathes of gooey mud, gravel and tailings from the mine.
Shana didn’t mind getting dirty, but she was glad she wouldn’t ruin her own clothes. Luke had insisted that she change into G.I. gear, including poorly fitted combat boots. Apparently, he thought she’d be less obvious if she looked like a troll.
“Tired?” he asked in a mocking tone.
“Wiped out.” She pressed her fist into the small of her back and stretched her aching muscles. “You guys are trained to survive in rugged conditions. I’m only a geologist with a sore bottom.”
“Want me to massage it for you?”
She looked up sharply. Was he actually being friendly? Joking around? “I doubt you could find my bottom inside these baggy clown pants.”
“I could try.”
He almost grinned, and she was glad to see that his attitude toward her might be improving. Earlier, he’d sounded as if he was ready to march her out in front of a firing squad.
Young Henry Harrison and Martin shuffled up beside them. A couple of sad sacks, they muttered back and forth.
“Gentlemen.” Luke shot a harsh glare at his troops. “We might not be at the front lines. We might be stuck here in these godforsaken, frozen mountains. But we’re still soldiers of the 10th Mountain Division. Start acting like you give a damn.”
With an effort, the two G.I.’s straightened their shoulders and gave weary salutes. In unison, they said, “Yes, sir.”
He turned to Shana. “Do you have your equipment?”
Though tempted to give him her own smart-aleck salute, Shana held back. She was grateful that he’d taken her suggestion and kept Dr. Fermi safe at the base. “There’s a case in the backseat.”
“Get it, Martin.”
They proceeded up the hill to the mine’s entrance, where a small crew was finishing up their work for the day. Shana wished she had her modern equipment for testing the soil and the ore. The scientific tools from 1945 were too rudimentary for a real analysis of potential quantity and quality of the uranium being mined. Not that it mattered.
She was already certain that results would show this mine and all the others in the Leadville area were unlikely to produce sufficient quantities of weapons-grade ore. The primary mineral being mined here was vanadium, which was used as an alloy in steel production.
Her work at this mine was little more than window dressing to keep Fermi happy and safe. However, when she talked to the supervisor at this mine, she asked all the right questions and jotted down information, which she immediately passed to Martin.
Before they’d set out on this mission, Luke had informed her that she would turn over everything—every single thing. And he was watching her with an eagle eye, still laboring under the delusion that she was some kind of dangerous secret agent.
Shana decided it was time for a bit of payback. After she had the information she needed, she slapped a miner’s hat with a light in front onto her head and turned to Luke. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“To check out the interior and take my own samples.” She smiled at the mine operator. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Not a bit, ma’am.” He glanced over his shoulder at his crew who were loading into the back of two pickup trucks. “We’re about done for the day, but we can wait.”
“You can go on ahead,” she said. “We don’t need an escort into the mine. I’ll shut down the generator when we leave.”
He hesitated for less than a minute; the man looked exhausted, ready to head for home. The rest of his crew was calling to him from the back of the truck. “Okay by me. I hope you find what you’re looking for in our mine. We’re always happy to help the war effort.”
As Shana watched him head for the truck, she marveled at the difference between 1945 and modern day. In this era, the mine supervisor showed no fear of litigation. OSHA hadn’t been established. Protocol was casual.
Though she liked the simplicity, she was also aware that the safety standards for dealing with radioactive dust were nearly nonexistent.
“Sir,” Henry said, “I don’t think I should go inside that mine.”
“How come?” Martin asked. “Scared of the dark?”
“No.” His chin quivered. “It just seems to me that somebody ought to be keeping watch outside.”
“Fine,” Luke said. “Henry stays outside. Martin, you follow Shana and carry everything she hands to you.”
“There better not be heavy lifting,” he
muttered.
Luke took off his helmet, put on his miner’s hat and stepped up beside her. “Lead the way.”
“That was quick.” She arched an eyebrow. “You move very well for somebody with a stick up his ass.”
“You’ve got a smart mouth, Shana.”
“I’m smart all over. Bella e brillante.”
And she couldn’t wait to pull him into the depths of the mine. Very few people—even those without claustrophobia—were comfortable with their first trip into the confines of a mining operation. She’d enjoy watching him sweat.
As she directed Luke and Martin into the earthen tunnel lit by a string of lights, she made sure to mention the dangers. “These wood supports are holding up thousands of tons of hard-packed earth—the weight of a whole mountain. Hard to believe, isn’t it?”
“It’s cold,” Martin whined.
“Ice-cold. Like being buried alive,” she said cheerfully. “Don’t worry if you have trouble breathing. There’s not much oxygen in here.”
In response to her suggestion, Martin gasped. “Can’t you hurry up?”
“Nervous?” she asked.
“I don’t want to be buried alive.”
When Martin pawed at the collar of his jacket, she took pity on him. Though he was overbearing, she had no vendetta against him.
She pointed to a large rock that rested against the wall of the narrow horizontal corridor. “Take that stone outside and wait for us.”
Predictably, he complained, “That rock has to weigh forty pounds.”
“Do it,” Luke said.
Clumsily, Martin hefted the stone and staggered toward the entrance. She was alone with Luke who seemed utterly unperturbed when the stillness of the mine wrapped around them. “We should go deeper,” she said.
“I’ll follow you.”
From the front of the mine, she heard Martin and Henry talking, but their voices faded as she went deeper. Using a handheld pick, she chipped off a few samples from the vein.
“What kind of rocks are those?” Luke asked.
“The shiny black is vanadium. The brownish-yellow indicates uranium. If we’re lucky we might even find autinite. It’s bright, kind of like crystal.”
She placed the samples into the container Luke was carrying. He was stooped over to keep from bumping his head against the support beams. Mining was especially hard work for a tall person. “Does it bother you?” she asked. “Being trapped in here?”
“I like watching you work.”
Again, his tone seemed friendly. “Be careful, Luke. It almost sounds like you don’t hate me.”
“Hate is a strong word.”
“And love?” As soon as she spoke, Shana regretted the word. Quickly, she added, “Not that love has anything to do with you. Or me. Or us. Definitely not us.”
Though she’d dragged Luke into the mine to make him uncomfortable, she was the one who babbled nervously. Being alone with him seemed to throw her completely off balance. She couldn’t decide whether to punch him in the nose or grab him and kiss him like crazy.
He leaned against the sandstone wall of the mine and lowered himself to the earth floor. “Come over here and sit with me.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t stand up in this tunnel without getting a crick in my neck.”
“Fair enough.” She edged to the wall beside him and sat with her back against the wall. Removing her miner’s hat, she smiled. Being here, inside the earth, Shana was in her element. The silence cradled her. The string of lights inside the mine gave enough illumination to soften Luke’s rugged features with gentle shadow. In here, she felt strong enough to handle anything he might throw at her.
“You’ve got a secret, Shana. And I want to know what it is.”
She exhaled a long sigh. “Can we quit talking about me? Just for a minute? You’ve got secrets, too.”
“Not really. I’m a simple guy. A soldier.”
“In the cabin,” she said, “there was a photograph. A young boy. On the back it said Roberto. Christmas, 1944. Who is he?”
He took off his miner’s hat, rested it on his lap and ran his fingers through his sandy brown hair. “Roberto is a scrappy little kid I met in Italy. An orphan.”
She nodded, encouraging him to continue. “In 1944. Last year. Why were you there?”
“I shipped out in November, ahead of the other men in the 10th Mountain Division, as part of an advance team. It was my job to help the brass assess the situation. Five divisions of Nazis were holding the mountain area in Italy. I joined the battle in a village called Lucce. We chased off the Germans and liberated an orphanage. All the kids found relatives or family friends to stay with. Except for one. Roberto. His father was a traitor, and no one would take him into their home.”
While Luke spoke, he stared straight ahead. His voice was calm. His emotions, controlled.
“For some reason, Roberto attached himself to me. He didn’t speak much English, and I don’t know much Italian. But we communicated. He reminded me of my fiancée’s little brother.”
“Fiancée? Are you engaged?”
“Not anymore. I got my ‘Dear John’ letter just before I went to Italy.”
“Sorry,” she said. “High school sweetheart?”
“Never finished high school. I left home when I was sixteen. During the Great Depression.”
She was struck with the realization that his life had been so different from hers. His era shaped him into a man unlike anyone else she knew. “What did you do when you were sixteen?”
“Went to work in one of the forestry service programs in Colorado. A dollar a day and all the food I could eat.” His features softened as he remembered. “Best time I had in my whole life.”
“Is that where you met your fiancée?”
“It was later than that, after I’d joined the 10th.” He shrugged. “It wasn’t a big surprise when she ended our engagement. I hadn’t seen her in over eight months, and she’s a real pretty woman. Fluffy and blond.”
“Not like me,” Shana said.
“Maybe the direct opposite to you,” he said with a grin. “She’s short. You’re kind of tall. She couldn’t stop talking. You have a lot of secrets.”
Their conversation was veering off track, leading back toward her, and Shana wanted to know more about him. “Tell me what happened to Roberto.”
“He followed me around like a puppy dog, and I broke dozens of regulations to keep him close and safe. For Christmas, I gave him a toothbrush, and he acted like it was the best gift he ever got. When the rest of the 10th Mountain Division arrived in January, I had my orders to join them. I left Roberto with a priest in a small town. And I promised the kid that I’d come back for him.”
Shana could guess what happened next. She remembered the scars on his shoulder and torso. “Then you were wounded and sent back here.”
He nodded. “I’m going back for him. For Roberto. That’s one promise I intend to keep.”
She felt so close to Luke at this moment. Without saying a word, she reached over and took his hand, lacing her fingers through his and giving a light squeeze.
Making a human connection in times of war was a risky business, and she understood why he’d been in such a hurry to leave the morning after what had almost been their night of passion. If he never got close to her, he would never experience the inevitable pain of their separation.
Of course, she would have to leave him. Shana couldn’t stay here in 1945.
“Sergeant?” Martin yelled down the mine tunnel. “Sergeant, when are you going to be done?”
He gazed down at her. Lightly, he kissed her forehead, then he plopped her miner’s hat back on her head. “We need to get back.”
“I guess so,” she said reluctantly.
“You owe me a secret, Shana.”
And she wanted to tell him. More than anything, she longed to confide, to share her dilemma with Luke. In his warm blue eyes, she saw a hero—a man who could handle anything
except for intimacy.
THROUGHOUT THE PASTA dinner cooked by Dr. Enrico Fermi in the mess hall, Luke couldn’t take his eyes off Shana. He’d noticed that when she was listening hard to the theories proposed by the scientists from Project Y, she chewed at her lower lip. When she laughed, she gave a toss to her head, sending ripples through her shining black hair.
She was noticing him, too. Several times during dinner, she’d glanced in his direction. When their eyes met, she hadn’t looked away. Their gazes linked, and there was a challenge in her directness—a challenge he was ready to meet.
At the serving table, she stepped up beside him and nudged his elbow. “Great tomato sauce, huh?”
“Best food I’ve had in weeks.”
“About my secrets,” she said, “I’d like to talk. Maybe after dinner, you could come to my room.”
He was ready, so ready. “That could be arranged.”
Her eyes brightened. “I’ll be waiting.”
He liked the sound of that statement. She would wait for him. She’d be loyal and true, unlike anybody else in his life. Of course, that wasn’t what she meant. But, as he dished up another helping of spaghetti, he felt happier than he had any right to be.
Captain Verne Hughes entered the mess hall and slammed the door against the cold mountain winds. The captain flipped back the hood on his parka. His face was even more drawn than usual. He didn’t bother to remove his gloves.
“Gentlemen,” he said in a somber tone, “I have news from the front.”
A deafening silence fell. Those who weren’t staring at the captain looked down at their plates, heads lowered as if they were praying.
“The Nazis are on the run. Our troops are liberating villages in the Po Valley, but fighting continues. Three more men from the 10th Mountain Division are reported dead.”
Luke’s gut twisted as the captain read off the names of men he had known. Good soldiers. Dead.
With his appetite gone, he shoved the full plate of spaghetti into the tray for the dishwashers on KP. The captain’s report had extinguished the brief flicker of happiness he’d felt in Shana’s presence. He needed time alone. Time to mourn. Time to consider his own future and his promise to Roberto.
