Battles Abroad: The Norsemen's War: Book Two - Tor & Kyle (The Hansen Series 2)

by Kris Tualla

  January 31, 1944

  Kyle picked up Tor for breakfast at seven o’clock in front of his barracks the morning after he returned from his trip and she returned from her leave, just as she always had. But something about her was different today.

  Tor wanted to hug her hello, but that was hard to do inside the jeep, so he settled for taking a firm hold of her hand.

  “It’s good to see you, Kyle.” He smiled warmly. “I missed you.”

  She slowly pulled her hand from his and shifted the jeep into reverse. Her smile seemed strained and she didn’t meet his eyes.

  “How did you do?” she asked as she backed up the jeep.

  Tor watched her carefully as she shifted into first and pressed the gas. “I took first in one of the slalom runs and second in the long course downhill, after Pfeifer.”

  “That’s good!” Her tone was happier than her face.

  “Yes. I was satisfied.” Tor leaned forward to see her better. “What’s wrong?”

  A little crease formed between her eyebrows. “Nothing.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Lieutenant,” Tor said gently. “Something happened in Viking.”

  “Nothing happened, Captain,” she insisted. “I just realized where my responsibilities are.”

  Tor’s spirit sank. “With Erik.”

  “Yes.”

  Tor sat silently in the passenger seat wondering if there was anything he could say to her. All he had were questions.

  “What does that mean?” he asked.

  She glanced at him. “It means no more kissing.”

  Damn.

  He’d miss that for sure. “Anything else?”

  “You need to get serious about your English,” she stated.

  Tor knew what that meant. “So you can be transferred.”

  She nodded, her eyes still looking through the windshield.

  “Why are you afraid of me?”

  Kyle’s head swiveled and her eyes were huge. “I’m not afraid of you.”

  “Then why is being with me upsetting you?”

  She jammed on the brakes and Tor threw his arms forward to keep from hitting his head on the windshield. “What on earth—”

  Kyle’s chest was heaving and her chin was quivering. She stared at her lap.

  “I’ll tell you, damn you.”

  Tor knew better than to say anything at that moment. He shifted back onto his seat and waited.

  “You’re incredibly handsome. And charming. And smart. And heroic. And everything about you is attractive to me.” She ran one gloved finger under her dripping nose. “In a different world, or at a different time, I’d want to pursue a relationship with you. But that’s just not possible here and now.”

  Tor was having trouble drawing a breath. He needed to speak. He needed to say something. The truth.

  “I feel the same way about you, Kyle.”

  Her shoulders began to shake and her face disappeared into her gloves.

  He didn’t touch her. He didn’t try to comfort her. He just let her cry.

  *****

  They never made it to breakfast. Instead, Kyle drove the jeep away from the center of the camp where they parked and talked.

  Well, he talked.

  She cried.

  Knowing that Tor was as attracted to her as she was to him was a double-edged sword of the cruelest kind. On one side of the blade it was comforting to know that the attraction was shared—she wasn’t just experiencing a ridiculous crush on a man who barely knew she was alive.

  But the other side of the blade wounded deeply: the possibility of love dangled in an impossible situation.

  “You know what you thought of me when we first met,” Tor said. “That I was just a panty-chaser. That I know I’m a catch, as they say. And that I’d take advantage of that.”

  Kyle nodded. “And now I know differently.”

  “Well, the other side of that is that I’ve never been in love. So I never gave much thought to getting married. To settling down. Having a family.”

  “The war got in the way,” she offered.

  “It did. That’s true.” He paused, seeming to search for the right words. “But it’s more than that.”

  “Tell me,” she whispered.

  He looked at her, his expression tentative. “I think I assumed all those women were no more than flirts. There was nothing substantial about them.”

  Kyle sniffed. “Maybe.”

  “But with you—you didn’t flirt.”

  She was horrified at the thought. “Of course not!”

  Tor waved his hands as if he could erase that statement. “No, I mean you were yourself. You were Second Lieutenant Kyle Solberg. A beautiful woman who wasn’t throwing herself at me.”

  He thinks I’m beautiful. “And?”

  “And…” He ran his hands over his face. “I began to feel like I could… fall in love. For the first time.”

  Kyle’s tears refreshed themselves, rolling hot and wet down her chilled cheeks. “Oh, Tor. What’s to become of us?”

  He looked stricken. “I’ll go to war and you’ll go back to Viking. That’s obvious. The only other choice would be to have an affair.”

  Kyle shook her head. “I would never risk the rest of my life on a fling!”

  Tor rested his hand over hers. “And I would never ask you to. Or even let you, should it come to that.”

  Kyle reached for her handkerchief but it wasn’t there.

  “Here.” Tor pulled the one she gave him out of his pocket. “I needed to return it anyway, now that it’s done its job.”

  Kyle accepted it and lifted it to her nose.

  It smells like him.

  She blew her nose self-consciously and then asked, “What now?”

  “We’re still good friends. We won’t kiss anymore. And I’ll work on my English.”

  She peered warily into his eyes. “That’s it?”

  He shrugged. “What else should it be?”

  “Nothing, I guess.”

  Kyle didn’t want to start the jeep and drive away. When she did, then this whole mess with Erik and Tor and herself would be decided and done. But the beautiful Norseman would always be a regret in her life—brought together by war and held irrevocably apart by the same damned war.

  She reached for the key.

  Tor stopped her.

  She looked at him, her expression somber.

  “I have one last thing to say.”

  She gave him a hint of a nod.

  “I think I’ll always regret not meeting you under different circumstances. You’re an amazing woman, Kyle. Never forget that.”

  “Thanks,” she whispered and turned the key.

  *****

  After supper that night Tor decided to check in on Kossin and see how the private was coming along two weeks after the accident. He told Kyle he’d walk from the mess hall and released her for the night. He really needed to be away from her for a little while.

  Funny how not being able to have her made him want her even more.

  Tor took long leg-stretching steps as he traversed the huge camp, using both the exercise and cold air to clear his head. He’d mentioned the option of an affair to Kyle with half-a-hope that she’d consider it.

  Of course, he knew in his heart she wouldn’t. And he knew that was the right response.

  Damn this war.

  And God damn Adolf Hitler.

  When he reached the hospital he walked two laps around it before he felt calm enough to enter. He climbed the stairs to the second floor and walked into Kossin’s ward.

  Marguerite was on duty again. She just smiled at him and put a finger to her lips, then pointed down the ward.

  Kossin was sleeping.

  Tor nodded that he understood, then walked quietly to the private’s bed. Sitting with the injured soldier would give him the peace he needed to release the rest of his disappointment.

  Because he was disappointed. Kyle’s kisses proved that under the starched WAC uniform of
the farm girl from Viking beat a very passionate heart. When Kyle loved, she would love with her whole being.

  He just wasn’t convinced that she loved Erik that way.

  Stop it. That changes nothing.

  Another member of the Terrible Trio—Flo—entered the ward.

  “Can you talk?” she asked Marguerite softly. Marguerite must have pointed at his back because Flo said, “He doesn’t speak English, remember?”

  “Oh. Right.”

  Tor held still and breathed through his mouth. Whatever was about to be said was secret and he didn’t want to miss a word.

  “I’m going to visit Luddy tonight, and Frances is going to meet Fred. Want to come along?”

  “Gerry’s not expecting me.” Marguerite sounded tentative.

  “One of the guys could go fetch him.”

  “Okay.” Marguerite sounded a little more certain. “What time?”

  “You get off at ten, right?”

  “Yes. I’ll meet you at the rock right away.”

  The rock?

  The rock near the POW enclosure was the first thing that popped into Tor’s mind. Were these the women Tor saw visiting the Germans three weeks ago?

  No. They couldn’t be.

  Could they?

  There’s only one way to find out.

  “Great. I’ll see you later.” Flo’s footsteps receded.

  Tor heard Marguerite approach and turned a little to smile at her. He lifted his brows in question and used the same thumb signals to ask how Kossin was doing. This time, Marguerite gave him a thumbs up response.

  Tor nodded and smiled again. Then he looked at his watch, pretending to be surprised at the time.

  He pointed to himself, yawned, and mimed sleep by resting his head against his hands.

  He stood, touched his finger to his lips, and tiptoed out of the ward.

  *****

  Tor was hidden near the path to the POW camp by nine-thirty. He was dressed in the white snow camouflage parka and pants again and hunkered down behind a bush. If the nurses were meeting American soldiers, they wouldn’t be anywhere near here tonight.

  But if they were meeting American soldiers, why the secrecy and worry about being overheard? And why sneak out at night? There were more recreational options at Camp Hale than any small town like Leadville had to offer. A guy and his gal could date openly, and many of them did.

  At least he didn’t need to stay out as long as last time. If the three nurses weren’t here by ten-thirty, then they were headed somewhere else.

  But if they were coming here, he’d need an explanation for why he was here before he told Kyle. He couldn’t say he overheard Marguerite and Flo because officially he didn’t speak English, and his lessons with Kyle hadn’t progressed far enough for him to have followed the hushed conversation.

  I’ll just say I couldn’t sleep and came back to spy on the Germans.

  Since he’d done it before, it made sense for him to do it again. Of course he was getting an annoying reputation with the Major General, but that man’s opinion of him didn’t matter. Not if anything Tor saw turned out to be important.

  Giggling.

  Coming from the left.

  The sound of a dove cooing, coming from the right.

  Footsteps tromping through the snow like elephants.

  If the nurses had basic training, they didn’t learn anything about secretive operations, that was for sure.

  “Luddy?” That must be Flo.

  “Over here.” The low voice was German-accented. “Who is with you?”

  “Fran and Marguerite.”

  “Gerry is in his bed,” another voice said. “Should I get him?”

  “Yes. Thank you, Fred.” That was Marguerite.

  “I miss you, my dearest Flo. Do you have a note for me?”

  “Of course I do. Here.” There was a pause. “Do you have one for me?”

  “Mein liebchen, of course I do.”

  “Oh, Luddy. I love it when you talk German to me.”

  As Tor listened for the next twenty minutes, he heard expressions of love and devotion and ridiculous promises on both sides of the prisoners’ fence that all started with after the war.

  Tor was gobsmacked. These three nurses were obviously carrying on little love affairs with the German prisoners of war. How did such a thing even begin?

  Were the men injured at some point?

  It was more likely they faked an illness to meet the women. It wouldn’t take much investigation to know the WACs were stationed at the camp—and figuring out that one of the roles they’d taken on was nursing was mere childsplay.

  If that was the case, the wooing would be easy. In spite of the ratio of men to women in the camp, lots of the women were lonely. An exotic foreigner with a sad tale would be intriguing.

  Did it never occur to them that they were fraternizing with the enemy? That was court-martial worthy behavior. These three nurses had made some very bad decisions.

  And Tor was going to assure that they got caught.

  After what the brown-uniformed Nazi bastards did to his beloved country and to his younger brother, Tor had zero compassion for any of the men imprisoned here.

  These soldiers were captured in Africa, part of Rommel’s Afrika Korps—they were disciplined, arrogant, and proud. Their deceptions and manipulations of the gullible women were right in line with their belief that they were genetically superior to the rest of the world and had the right to do whatever they wanted.

  Tor stayed put until goodbyes were said—were those kisses through the fence?—before he straightened and stretched his cramped legs. As he walked back to his barracks across the camp he wondered how he would tell Kyle that her roommate and two other friends were in deep, deep trouble.

  Chapter

  Nineteen

  February 1, 1944

  “Why are you so fidgety?” Tor hadn’t held still since Kyle picked him up before breakfast. “What’s wrong?”

  The captain flashed a contrite smile and swung his forefinger in an inclusive circle next to his head. “I can’t tell you in here.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me in the jeep?”

  Tor looked uncomfortable. “I hadn’t figured out how yet.”

  Kyle’s shoulders slumped. “It’s bad news, isn’t it.”

  “It’s not happy news,” Tor conceded. “But neither you nor I are directly affected. Well, you are, but only a little.”

  Curiosity pushed Kyle to ask more questions, but the fact that Tor wouldn’t meet her eyes told her to wait. She applied her efforts to polishing off her oatmeal.

  “I’m done,” she declared before gulping the rest of her coffee. “Let’s go.”

  She stood and Tor stared up at her. “Can I finish?”

  Kyle looked at her watch. “Not if we want time to talk.”

  Tor grunted and took an enormous bite of sausage. He stood, his chair sliding backward on the floor with a rumbling whine, and wiped his mouth on a napkin.

  Kyle climbed into the driver’s seat of the jeep waiting outside the mess hall and started the engine while Tor folded himself into the seat besides her. Kyle pressed the gas pedal and set the vehicle on a random path around the camp.

  “Okay,” she said. “Talk.”

  Tor cleared his throat. “I went to see Kossin last night, but he was sleeping. So I decided to go to the POW enclosure.”

  “Oh, Tor.” Kyle sighed. “If anything was going on I think it would be discovered by now.”

  “Something is going on.” Tor paused. “And now I know what. And who’s involved.”

  Kyle was skeptical. “All right. Tell me.”

  “Your friends the nurses, Marguerite and the other two, are enjoying a secret flirtation with the Germans.”

  Kyle hit the brakes hard and the jeep fishtailed a little on the slick path. She stared at Tor, incredulous. “Prove it.”

  “I saw them approach the fence last night—it must have been between ten and ten-thirty
—and there were three POWs waiting for them.”

  Kyle scowled. “That’s it?”

  Tor shook his head. “They exchanged notes, and they kissed through the fence.”

  Kyle felt the blood drain from her face. “Did you hear any names?”

  “Fred. Gerry. And…” Tor rubbed his chin. “Something that didn’t sound like a normal name.”

  No. No no no.

  Kyle thought her hasty breakfast was going to make an undignified exit. “Was it Luddy?”

  “Yes. That was it.” Tor tilted his head. “How did you know?”

  “I’ve heard them talking about those men but I assumed, of course, that they were American soldiers.” Kyle rested her forehead on the steering wheel. “This is terrible.”

  “I knew it would upset you. I’m sorry.”

  “I just can’t believe it…” How could those women be so stupid?

  “We have to tell Jones.”

  Kyle’s head popped up. “No—let me talk to Marguerite first. Maybe this is all a misunderstanding.”

  Tor’s expression turned as hard as the granite surrounding them. “You can’t do that, Kyle. If you do, the women will destroy any evidence.”

  “Does that matter if it makes them stop?” Kyle was stricken.

  “It might,” Tor said sternly.

  She knew he was right, but she still asked, “How?”

  “We don’t know what they’ve told the men about the camp,” Tor pointed out. “What if they help the POWs escape and then they blow us up?”

  “Would they really help the men escape?” That sounded awfully far-fetched.

  “Lonely women do stupid things if they think love is involved. Have you heard of the Germans’ Lebensborn project?”

  Kyle answered warily, “No.”

  Tor’s expression softened a little, as if he was sorry to have to give her more bad news. “It’s Himmler’s idea. Lebensborn encourages officers to impregnate ‘racially pure’ unmarried women, and then adopts their children into Nazi families.”

  Kyle was horrified. “And the women go along with it?”

  “They get special privileges until the babies are born, and I think they expect to marry the fathers of their babies after the war.”