by Cassie Miles
“Doesn’t surprise me.”
“An embassy is like a little island inside a foreign country. Most of the people stay safely inside the compound. But I never wanted to sit at a window and watch life go by. No matter where in the world I was, I tried to adapt and become part of the local scene.”
With her olive skin, black hair and brown eyes, she looked Italian when she was in Italy. In Spain, she was Spanish. In the Middle East, she managed to pass herself off as a belly dancer named Aziza.
“Have you ever been to Russia?” he asked.
“No. Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” he said. “Go on with your story but keep in mind that I can’t stay here all night.”
“One of my earliest memories is when my mother was reading me a fairy tale that ended with ‘they lived happily ever after.’ I wanted to know why. How do we know they were happy?”
“What did your mother say?”
“‘Sometimes there’s only a dream. Not a logical explanation.’” Shana frowned. “I didn’t accept what she said. In my childish reasoning, there were solid answers for absolutely everything. I didn’t know about love. Or hate. Or even sorrow. I didn’t understand about sadness until my mother died when I was seven.”
“Sorry,” Luke said.
“So am I.” Her mother’s early death was an old scar that would never heal. “I understood why she died. There was a rational explanation. She had an untreatable viral infection. But her absence made no sense to me. It still doesn’t. How could she be gone?”
Luke reached over and took her hand. The warmth of his touch reassured her. No matter what Captain Hughes thought, Luke wouldn’t let anything terrible happen to her.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I’ve spent my life finding answers. Grounding myself in reality. Until I got caught in that swirling blizzard. I thought I was going to die. I’d made a foolish mistake, and I would pay with my life. Then, I saw you skiing toward me. All dressed in white.”
She lifted her gaze and looked into his breathtaking blue eyes. “When you rescued me, I allowed myself to be swept away by a fantasy. Unexplainable. Irrational. I don’t have answers for you, Luke. Nothing that I can put down in black and white. All I can say is that I’m here. I don’t know why.”
She wouldn’t have blamed him if he called out, “Try again,” and shook her until the truth spilled out. Instead, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the palm, sending an electric current up her arm.
“You still haven’t given me any form of identification,” he said.
“I wish I could.”
“So do I. I want to make sure you stick around long enough to know what ‘happily ever after’ means.”
“Do you know?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he rose from the bed with a creaking of springs. “Get some rest. We’re leaving early tomorrow. After we do analyses on two more mines, we’re going to Aspen. To the Hotel Jerome.”
“I don’t have anything to wear.”
As soon as she spoke, Shana remembered that this was Aspen in 1945—a sleepy little village, not a glamorous destination for jet-setters.
“Wear the fatigues,” he said. “We leave right after breakfast.”
He gave her a wink and went out the door. Once again, she was left waiting. And wondering.
STRETCHED OUT on the bed, she stared at the ceiling. A huge round light appeared above her head. The glow was incandescent. Beautiful.
Shana heard her mother’s gentle voice. “Happily ever after.”
Oh, yes. That was what she wanted. Shana reached toward the light and felt her weightless body lifting off the bed, rising toward the magnificent, glowing circle. The edges trembled, then folded in upon themselves.
As suddenly as the light had appeared, it vanished.
And she slept.
Chapter Seven
After visiting two more uranium mine sites and sending Shana’s assay samples back to Camp Hale with two other G.I.’s Luke directed his two-vehicle convoy toward Aspen. Henry and Martin drove the front jeep. He and Shana followed on Highway 82 over Independence Pass.
At this lower elevation, the road was clear—a two-lane ribbon of asphalt that twisted through the forested hillsides. No storm clouds today. Springtime was in the air, and the leaves on the aspen and cottonwoods had begun to turn green. It was May, after all. Across the Great Plains, farmers had already planted their fields. The dahlias were already blooming. The relief of springtime always came late to Camp Hale, but it would inevitably arrive. New life. New chances.
A day like this could almost make Luke forget his frustration about the half-baked suspicions of Captain Hughes and his concern for the safety of Dr. Fermi and his colleagues.
“Tell me again,” Shana said. “Why are we going to Aspen?”
“Following orders,” he said.
Her full lips pulled into a frown. “But you won’t tell me the reason why.”
“I go where I’m told.”
The captain’s idea of playing detective at the Hotel Jerome might produce some results. Aspen was a small enough town that outsiders might be noticed, especially a couple of Russians. But he hated the thought of dragging Shana into a potentially dangerous situation. Though she’d given him plenty of reasons to be suspicious, she had also convinced him that she wasn’t a spy. He trusted her.
“I’m not complaining,” she said. “I’m looking forward to seeing Aspen.”
“Never been there before?”
“Not in this lifetime.”
As the jeep climbed, the asphalt disappeared under a rutted layer of snowpack. Up here, it was still winter, and he was glad for the heavy-duty tires that gripped the road. The jeep ahead of them chugged steadily upward, and Luke downshifted and slowed to widen the gap between them. If the other jeep had to stop suddenly, he didn’t want to plow into their rear end.
“Why did we take two cars?” she asked.
“Safety. If we have trouble with one, we can use the other. This drive is a little intense. It’s better without a vehicle when you can slap on your skis and zip downhill.”
“You’re joking,” she said. “You’ve skied over Independence Pass?”
“Many times. Part of the training at Camp Hale. For cold weather warfare, you need to build up skill and stamina. This trek provided extra motivation because Aspen was at the end. A town with bars and broads.”
She chuckled. “I wonder how Aspen feels about being known as a way station for the 10th Mountain Division.”
“The locals are real supportive. A lot of the G.I.’s are talking about coming back here after the war, maybe to put in some chairlifts and develop the ski industry.”
“Word of advice,” she said. “Make that investment in Aspen. It’ll pay off. Big-time.”
Luke thought so, too. Colorado had better mountains and better snow than Lake Placid in the east. Before the war, there were a couple of skiing events held here. “Aspen wouldn’t be a bad place to settle down.”
“It’d be a great place,” she said. “What are you going to do when the war is over?”
Her question surprised him. He didn’t often make plans for the future, barely even dared to hope that he would have a life after the war. “Something medical. I could be an orderly. Or a guy who drives an ambulance.”
“Or a doctor,” she said. “You’d be a good doctor.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I’ve had a chance to sample your bedside manner.” She grinned. “And you’re smart. Decisive. You care about helping people.”
When he was younger, he’d dreamed of being a doctor. But now? “I’m in my thirties. Too old to be starting med school.”
“Aspen is going to need doctors. Somebody to set the broken bones when all those skiers come crashing down the slopes. Anything is possible, Luke. Remember that. Anything.”
When he was with her, he could almost believe his dreams were possible. Her determination was contagious. With a woman like Sh
ana at his side, he might be able to conquer the world.
“What’s the elevation up here?” she asked.
“At the top it’s about twelve thousand feet. This highway is based on trails that were once used by Ute hunting parties. Which reminds me, keep an eye open for deer and elk on the road.”
She leaned forward and squinted through her sunglasses. The bright sunlight shone on her high cheekbones and outlined her strong features. There was nothing fluffy or girlish about Shana. She looked like the no-nonsense, rational person she claimed to be.
But Luke knew better. He’d seen her caught up in a whirlwind of passion, and the memory brought a smile to his lips. Maybe tonight at the Hotel Jerome he could stop by her room.
“While we’re in Aspen,” she said, “I want to get some clothes. Some slacks. And shoes. Something that fits.”
His grin turned into a full smile. “Interesting.”
“What’s so funny?”
“I was just thinking about how you’re a rational, logical geologist. Then you start talking about a new outfit. Just like a woman.”
She smiled back at him. “Being around you is turning me feminine. If I don’t watch out, I’ll probably want to darn your socks of take up gourmet cooking.”
“You’d be cute in a kitchen. With a little Mixmaster. And a Frigidaire. And a pan of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies.”
“No way.”
Shana groaned at the thought of herself in a 1940s apron and high heels. Did women in this era really do things like that? Weren’t these the years of Rosie the Riveter?
Still, she couldn’t deny that Luke’s presence was having an effect on her. She had a totally irrational urge to make him happy, to see his handsome face light up with the kind of smile he now bestowed upon her.
When the jeep emerged from the forests above timberline, she was aware that they’d climbed much higher on the pass, high enough to touch the clouds.
Then she peeked out the window over the edge of the road. Big mistake! It was a sheer vertical drop of hundreds of feet.
Her feelings of well-being vanished in a tidal wave of vertigo. On this narrow road, they were inches away from catastrophe.
“There are no guardrails.” She heard the nervous quiver in her voice. “Why not? Why aren’t there guardrails?”
“Wouldn’t do much good,” he said. “If you go into a skid, you’d crash through the guardrail. Crash and burn.”
“Thank you for that image.”
At each hairpin turn, her stomach lurched. The nose of the jeep pointed steadily upward. The engine strained. This had to be the scariest road she’d ever been on. Then it narrowed to one lane. “Oh my God! What do we do if someone else is coming?”
“It depends,” he said. “The rule of the road is that whoever is coming downhill is the one to give way.”
Backing uphill on hairpin turns? On a snow-packed road? “But there shouldn’t be anybody else on this road. Right?”
“Not likely.” He glanced toward her. “You’re not scared of heights, are you?”
“That would be an irrational fear.” She pushed herself back in the passenger seat and wrapped her arms around her waist. “However, it’s perfectly logical to be aware of the potential hazards on this road.”
“So you’re scared.”
“A little.”
“I’m a good driver,” he assured her.
“Unless you go into a skid. Or there’s a pile of rocks on the road. Or the jeep breaks down.”
She held her breath as he drove across a bridge that seemed ready to crumble at any second. She squeezed her eyelids tightly closed. Next time, she’d ski instead of driving…if she lived until the next time.
When they reached the summit, Luke pulled off on a wide shoulder, stopped and shoved open his door. “Come out here. You’ve got to see this view.”
“Actually, I don’t.” Her stomach was tied in a knot. She wanted to curl into a little ball and not go another inch by jeep. Could she possibly arrange for a helicopter rescue?
“Get out of the car,” he said. “You need to stretch and move around. Loosen up.”
She growled at him. “How do you know what I need?”
“Because I’ve seen other people on their first drive over the pass. You’ve got the heebie-jeebies, and it’s better if you shake it off.”
Reluctantly, she opened her door and stepped onto the precipice. They were surrounded by the glacial white peaks of the Continental Divide. The sky had begun to fade as sunset approached. As long as she didn’t look down, the view was spectacular.
Luke spread his arms wide to embrace the entire vista. “Top of the world.”
Stiffly, she nodded. Her gaze scanned the road they’d just ascended. One hellacious curve after another. The drop was hundreds, possibly thousands, of feet straight down. Then she saw something unexpected. She pointed. “Somebody else is on the road.”
Luke stood beside her and stared down at the big, heavy, black sedan. “They’re moving a lot faster than we were.”
“What kind of car is that?”
“Studebaker.” He turned and looked for the other jeep that had gone before them. “Martin and Henry are already out of sight.”
She sensed his apprehension. “What’s going on? Is that car following us?”
“I’m not sure. They might be perfectly innocent.” He turned to her. “In case they aren’t, you’d better drive.”
“Me?” she squeaked. “You want me to drive?”
“You know how to drive, don’t you?”
“Of course.” She’d driven plenty of jeeps in Kuwait and Thailand. “But this road isn’t—”
“You drive,” he said. “If there’s a sniper in that vehicle, I need to be free to return fire.”
Behind her sunglasses, Shana blinked rapidly. Ever since she saw him exchanging gunfire with the other skiers outside Camp Hale, she’d been aware of the potential for danger. Not until this moment did her fear seem real. A sniper?
“Shake a leg,” he said. “They’re approaching fast.”
When she slid into the driver’s seat, her heart fluttered in panic. Her hands trembled on the steering wheel. This treacherous mountain pass was not the place for a high-speed chase.
“Take your time,” he said. “We’ll make it.”
When his hand rested on her shoulder, his strength and confidence surged through her. I can do this. I have to.
Driving with extreme caution, she concentrated on the narrow road and the tortuous curves. When she attempted to speed up, she felt the tires begin to skid. “Oh, no.”
“Don’t brake,” he said. “Ease off the accelerator. Ride it out. Keep going.”
The next twist came too soon. She banked to the right, leaning as though her weight could cause the jeep to turn more effectively. Again, she avoided going into a slide. But just barely. The packed snow beneath her tires felt like glare ice.
After what seemed like an eternity, they reached a forested area on the other side of the summit. The wall of trees gave her a sense of security. A false sense, to be sure. There was still a killer drop at the edge of the road.
“I can see the Studebaker,” Luke said. “They’re only about twenty yards away.”
Then she heard the rat-a-tat of a machine gun. The worst-case scenario had just come true. “They’re shooting at us.”
Luke rolled down the window. Ice-cold wind whooshed through the car, but she barely felt the change in temperature. Her body was on high alert. Her adrenaline rushed.
He swiveled around on the passenger seat, leaned out the window and aimed. In rapid succession, he fired several times before hauling himself back inside.
“Why did you stop?” she asked.
“That was eight shots. I need to reload.”
What kind of antiquated weaponry only had eight rounds? “Did you hit anything?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t stop them.” He glanced toward her. “You’re going to have to speed up.”
She forced herself to press down on the accelerator, and the jeep leaped forward. At the next curve, she fishtailed. Out of control. Oh my God, we’re going to die. She fought the wheel and managed to keep the tires on the narrow road.
“You’re okay,” Luke said.
“Maybe I should just pull over. We could surrender. How bad would that be?”
“These guys aren’t looking for POWs. They want to kill us.”
“Why?”
“That’s a damn good question.” His voice was tense. “Is there anything you want to tell me about your past? Anything that might make somebody want to kill you?”
“Nobody here knows me well enough to want me dead.”
Though they were still at high elevation, the road was gradually straightening out. There were few trees along this stretch. When she peeked in her rearview mirror, she saw the other vehicle coming dangerously closer.
“Keep it steady,” Luke encouraged her. “You’re doing great.”
“Damn right, I am.”
“That’s the attitude.”
Sheer bravado. In truth, she was terrified. Tension twitched across her skin like an attack of fire ants.
Across the open terrain, she sped past a few dilapidated cabins and a frozen lake that would have been beautiful if she’d taken her eyes off the road for one minute to look.
Through the open window, she heard a burst of gunfire and braced herself for the thud of a flat tire. Nothing happened. The bullets must have missed. Don’t look back. Just keep going.
This time Luke didn’t return fire. She glanced over at him. “What are you waiting for?”
“It’s impossible to aim with all this jostling around. I have another plan.” He held up a small round object. “Grenade.”
He pulled the pin.
She almost lost her grip on the steering wheel. “Oh my God! Get rid of that.”
“I need to time this just right.” Seconds ticked by. “I’ve only got one of these babies.”
She was frightened before—now she was deathly terrified. The inside of her head exploded into a thousand jagged pieces.
Casually, he reached outside the window and gently lobbed the grenade. He counted aloud. “One. Two. Three. And…”
