The war was over!
The Germans had surrendered!
After more than five long years, the fighting in Europe had ended!
Half a heartbeat later, Olivia was up out of her seat, shouting at the top of her lungs, overcome with elation, relief, and many other emotions, more than she could count. The inside of the diner was chaotic, a scene of pandemonium. Everyone acted as if it was the happiest moment of their lives, which, for many, it probably was. Olivia had just turned around for a look, to try to take it all in, when she was embraced by Clyde Harrington, a blacksmith she’d known all her life; two of Clyde’s sons had spent the last few years in Europe, chasing Hitler’s army back toward Germany, so his joy was especially personal. The moment he let her go, Olivia fell into the arms of Marjorie Ennis, her old schoolteacher. Then it was someone else, all of them celebrating. Shouts rang out around the diner.
“I can’t believe it’s over!”
“—always said we was gonna show them Nazis a thing or two!”
“My son will be coming home! Oh, thank the Lord!”
Olivia felt relief of her own. For more than three years, her life had been turned on its head, sent down a path she never could have anticipated. Working at the hardware store. Dragging her wagon across town as she gathered material for the war effort. Planting the victory garden with her mother. Making do with less as one item after another was rationed.
But the hardest thing of all had been to watch the young men of Miller’s Creek go off to fight. Jay Garrick had died in Italy, Herman McKinnley in France. When their bodies had come home to their devastated families, all of town had turned out for their funerals. Now, even though the war with Japan would rage on, Olivia felt that the clouds that had darkened all of their lives had finally begun to clear. Most relieving of all was that it might mean Billy remained safe. He’d struggled so long to join the military, to get past his rejections on account of his bad heart, that he would probably be disappointed he hadn’t gotten a chance to fight. Olivia didn’t care. Even if she had ended their engagement, she still wanted him to be safe.
And then there was Peter…
Olivia turned to look for him in the crowd, but was surprised to find him sitting in his seat. He was shaking hands with Lew Martin, a farmer whose grin showed a significant lack of teeth. Peter looked stunned, his eyes wide, his jaw hanging slack as his hand was furiously pumped up and down; he was probably just as shocked as everyone else. While she had no idea what it was he did for the military, Olivia was overjoyed that it would be coming to an end. It meant that he might not have to leave. It meant that he might be able to stay with her…
“It’s over,” she said to him, beaming broadly.
“I…I can’t believe it…” he answered; her smile must have been infectious, because one slowly spread across his face.
Even as the diner continued to celebrate, Olivia found herself wanting more. Reaching down, she grabbed Peter by the hand.
“Come on,” she exclaimed. “Let’s go!”
Together they weaved their way through the crowd, receiving more congratulations. The uniformed soldier clapped Peter on the shoulder as they went by; Peter seemed startled by the man’s touch, even a bit uncomfortable, but he recovered to say something Olivia couldn’t hear over the din. Eventually, they made it to the door and stepped outside, basking in the sun and the moment.
The rest of Miller’s Creek was as jubilant as the diner had been. Men and women spilled out into the streets. Most people were shouting or hugging. Several stood alone and stared up into the sky, smiling. To Olivia, it was like Christmas, the Fourth of July, and everyone’s birthday, all rolled into one. She imagined that in every city and town in America, no matter how big or small, the very same thing was happening at that moment. She looked at the flags, their stars and stripes shining in the sun. She noticed the posters that expressed the resolve and might of her nation. From somewhere, either inside a shop or down a side street, she heard a lone voice singing “The Star Spangled Banner.” They had all worked and struggled together, doing whatever they could to keep the country going as they supported the troops fighting overseas. All of them had overcome tyranny, freeing the peoples of Europe from Hitler and his Nazis. Olivia remembered how she had felt those many years before, sitting beside her mother at the movies, watching as German soldiers marched menacingly across the screen. They had seemed so frightening, so fierce, that they had even invaded her dreams. But now those bogeymen were defeated, their leaders on the run, the people who brought them to power no longer the victors they supposed themselves to be. Today, the future could truly begin, born out of a day brighter than the one that had come before.
Olivia turned to try to tell all of this to Peter, to convey to him how she felt; when she did, he pulled her to him. At first, she assumed that it was like the diner; he wanted to celebrate the war’s end. But this was more than that. Where minutes earlier, Peter had appeared stunned, his face was now serious. His eyes roamed hers as he held her tight; he gripped her as if he didn’t want to let go, as if he would fight any attempt she made to escape, though there was nowhere else she wanted to be. Neither of them said a word. Slowly, intently, Peter pulled her even closer, their bodies pressed together tightly in the warm spring sun, the townspeople of Miller’s Creek all around them as the revelry continued unabated. Olivia closed her eyes and let herself go, not caring if anyone saw. She welcomed his kiss and all that came with it.
Billy hurried down the crowded sidewalk, dodging a pair of women hugging each other and then an overly enthusiastic man who shouted as he jumped up and down. Ever since news of the war’s end in Europe had reached the bank, he’d had one overpowering urge; to see Olivia. Even with all that had happened between them, with the hurt that came with the unexpected end to their engagement, Billy knew that a momentous occasion like this wouldn’t be the same if he couldn’t share it with her, the woman he loved.
Though the bank was only a couple of short blocks from Pickford Hardware, it felt as if it took him forever to reach it. Every few feet, there was someone who wanted to share in the good news. With his family’s standing in town, it would have been thought rude for him to ignore the well-wishers, so he’d had to start and stop, over and over.
“Isn’t it just the happiest of days!” one well-wisher rejoiced.
But was it?
Billy had to admit that while he was glad the Germans had surrendered, there was a small part of him that felt disappointed, even cheated. He’d fought for so long to join the struggle against the Axis that now, when he was so close to doing that very thing, it seemed almost cruel for it to be yanked away from him. Sure, the war against the Japanese raged on, but everyone knew the end was coming. Maybe he would be one of the first to fight their way into Tokyo, to take the battle right to the emperor. But maybe not…He’d wanted a chance to prove himself, to show that he was as much of a man as the next guy. Now, he was about to be denied that opportunity.
When he finally reached the hardware store, Billy was surprised to find that Olivia wasn’t there. In fact, no one was; they must’ve been out celebrating. Craning his neck, he couldn’t see her among the dozens of people who’d emptied out into the street, the celebration growing by the minute. He had just made up his mind to walk from one end of Main Street to the other, when he saw her. She was on the opposite side of the street, looking away from him, beaming brighter than the sun. Billy was just about to call out to her when he noticed that she wasn’t alone.
Peter Baird was with her.
The words died in Billy’s throat, unspoken. Somewhere in the most desperate part of his mind, he tried to play it off as nothing, a coincidence that the two of them were here, together. He thought about walking over to them, acting as if nothing were the matter, being the bigger man. But he just couldn’t do it. Instead, he retreated, stepping back into the shadows of the mercantile’s awning, mingling with the customers.
Billy watched with cold eyes. He saw th
e ease with which Olivia enjoyed the other man’s company. He noticed the smile on her face when she turned toward him. His stomach clenched when the stranger who’d ruined everything grabbed hold of Olivia and pulled her to him. He watched in horror as the bastard leaned down and kissed her; Olivia did nothing to fight off his advances, but rather closed her eyes and met it with passion of her own. It was just as Billy had always imagined it would look, exactly as he had dreamed. The problem was that she was doing it with another man.
He kept staring, unable to look away, as his guts were twisted into knots. Slowly, the truth dawned on Billy. If he was going to have any chance of making Olivia his, of the two of them becoming husband and wife, something was going to have to be done about Peter Baird. Something drastic.
And he was going to have to be the one to do it.
Chapter Twenty-one
PETER WALKED AROUND in a daze. Ever since he had learned of Germany’s surrender, he’d felt as if time was standing still. Even kissing Olivia had done nothing to shake the cobwebs from his thoughts; if anything, it had complicated things further. Now, walking beside her in the coming dark of dusk, he still couldn’t completely grasp what had happened.
When their kiss had finally ended, Olivia, giddy with romance and the historic events of the day, had wanted to share it all with her family, and had rushed off to find her father. John was just about to drive away from the jail when they arrived. The sheriff had tried to raise Huck on the telephone, wanting to talk with his good friend and deputy, but the man hadn’t answered; John guessed that Huck had gone fishing and that it might be another day before he found out. From there, Peter and Olivia had gone to the Marstens’ home, rushing up the front steps at the same time as Grace; the young girl was happy about the end of the war in Europe, but she was equally pleased that school had been let out for the rest of the day.
But while Olivia and her family talked animatedly about Germany’s defeat, Peter remained quiet. His thoughts raged like a storm; at one moment he was confused, at another hopeful, and then even a bit frightened. Try as he might, struggling to make sense of it all, he couldn’t decide what it meant for him. Was he still considered a prisoner? If he turned himself in, would the charge of escape be held against him? Could he keep living the lie he’d built for himself? Could he hide the truth from Olivia forever, ignore his past and who he really was?
And then there was Otto.
Peter wondered if the Nazi knew what had happened. If he was still lurking around, and Peter believed that he was, it wouldn’t take long. But how would a man as brutal as Otto react to learning that his beloved Führer had surrendered, that he had lost his dream of a thousand-year Reich? Would learning of Germany’s defeat cause Otto to turn himself in? Or would it fan the fires of vengeance and sadism smoldering in his heart, making him even more dangerous?
“I still can’t believe that it’s over,” Olivia said to him.
“Me, either,” he admitted. “It’s like a dream.”
“If it is, I don’t ever want to wake up.”
Hours earlier, they had left Olivia’s home to walk the streets, reveling in the moment. All around them, the townspeople of Miller’s Creek celebrated. Even now, as the evening grew dark and colder, a chill in the air that said the calendar had yet to officially turn to summer, people were out. They congregated on porches, gathered on sidewalks and street corners, everyone smiling, rejoicing. Hails and other greetings were shouted across lawns and streets and over fences. Cars honked as they drove past, an arm raised out of an open window. Radios sounded from inside houses, through open doors and windows, providing the latest details of events in Europe, back in the only home Peter had ever known. Though his feelings were mixed with concern about his mother, to say nothing of his own fate, Peter shared in the townspeople’s joy that the war had ended, lamenting that it had ever started in the first place.
“I suppose you’ll need to call your superiors,” Olivia suggested. “Surely, things will have changed.”
“I reckon so,” he replied, telling her yet another lie.
“Do you think you’ll have to leave?”
Peter heard the worry in her voice, saw it in the quick glance she gave him. “I don’t know,” he muttered, twisting himself deeper into the web of falsehoods he’d woven. “I’ll just have to wait and see.”
For a while, neither of them spoke; the only sound other than the neighborhood festivities was the clickety-clack of Olivia’s shoes on the sidewalk. Eventually, she broke the silence. “I’m so thankful,” she explained. “I prayed for this day, that men like you and Billy wouldn’t have to go off and fight. As the years went by, I wondered if it would ever come, but somehow, here it is.”
She stopped walking and Peter did the same. Tenderly, he reached out and took her by the hand. He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing.
“I don’t want to go back home.”
Olivia’s words surprised him. They’d been walking for more than an hour, aimlessly going from one side of town to the other and then back again. The darkness of night would soon be upon them. Peter’s intention had been to slowly make their way back to her home.
“We can walk a while longer if you’d like,” he offered.
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
Peter was about to ask what she meant, when the truth struck him; she was asking if they could be alone. The fire inside him, the part that marveled at her beauty, that wanted to feel her touch, her breath upon his face, grew higher, hotter. Though Peter was still unsettled about many things, there was one thing about which he had the utmost certainty: his feelings for Olivia. Standing there, the stars just now visible in the fading sky above them, he searched her face, looking for something that might tell him he was wrong, that he was misconstruing her intentions, but her gaze never wavered; her eyes told him all he needed to know.
“Come with me,” he said.
And she did.
Following Peter up the stairs to his apartment, Olivia’s heart raced. The whole way there, she’d thought about her boldness, understanding all too well what she had said to him, what she’d insinuated when she’d told him that she didn’t want to go home. But the truth was, she’d meant it. Though she didn’t have much experience with love, or any of the other romantic things men and women did together, that didn’t mean she had never longed for them. Since Peter had come into her life, she’d thought about it often. Kissing him had been wonderful, but the idea that Peter wanted more, just as she did, was tantalizing.
“It’s not much, but here it is,” Peter said, holding open the door.
Olivia stepped inside and found that she couldn’t disagree. The rooms were mostly unfurnished, with only a few cobbled-together pieces. Peter turned on a bare bulb in the small kitchen and the scant light only served to make the place seem more empty.
“It’s…nice…” she said, hoping he would believe her, but from the way he laughed at her attempt to be polite, it was clear that he didn’t.
Olivia stepped over to look out the apartment’s large picture window. Down below, people still milled about on Main Street. Here and there, she noticed those who’d clearly been drinking; they stumbled about, their voices occasionally turning to shouts, but all in a good-natured sort of way.
Suddenly, Peter slid up behind her, ran his hand along her hip, and lightly kissed her neck, his breath warm against her skin. Olivia shut her eyes, enjoying his touch. Unused to such attention, she felt a bit nervous, anxious about where the night was headed, but she did her best to ignore such distractions and instead concentrated on how Peter was making her feel.
“That’s nice,” she said, her voice faint, a little breathless.
Her encouragement brought Peter’s hand up the length of her arm and over her shoulder. His fingertips pushed away a few wayward strands of hair before wandering down her cheek, his thumb tracing along her jaw. Olivia sucked in a breath, holding it. But then, just as she was about to turn toward him
, to make some advances of her own, they were both startled by an unexpected explosion just outside the window. She was amazed to see a brilliant cluster of green bloom like a flower in the dark sky, twinkling among the stars before fading from sight.
“Fireworks,” Peter said softly in her ear.
With his arms wrapped around her, they watched as another rocket raced upward, a faint whistle signaling its ascent. It suddenly burst, erupting into another constellation of sparks, this time red. The boom of the explosion reverberated off the window. Three more came in quick succession, the night lit up in a kaleidoscope of colors. Finally, it was silent save for a few hearty cheers from the street.
“Someone must’ve been saving them for this very occasion,” Olivia said, turning to face Peter. “Waiting for a night to celebrate.”
“No better time than now.”
When Peter leaned down to kiss her, Olivia was ready and willing. Their passion soared. His touch felt insistent, almost needy, far more so than any of the other times they had kissed. She rose to him, meeting his intensity as they tried to make fireworks of their own. Her hand strayed to his chest, her fingers searching, roaming across his muscular body. Lightly, she pushed against him, trying to tell him that she was ready for more, that she could be his.
But then Peter stopped.
He looked down at her through the gloom that filled the room, the light at his back making it hard for her to see his face. “Olivia…” he began tentatively. “Before we go any further, there’s something I’ve been trying to tell you, something that you deserve to know, that you need to know if—”
“Peter, no…” Olivia interrupted.
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