Thankful she had hidden the gun in her purse instead of one of her suitcases, she tightened her grip on her handbag’s leather strap. She deposited the purse in the nightstand after the maids took their leave. Here, the only thing that needed protection was her heart. And a gun wouldn’t do the trick.
“When were you going to tell me about Friedrich? When the Nazis came to drag you away for helping him escape?”
Meike seemed disappointed by the conversational shift. Helen would have preferred flirting, too, but she couldn’t ignore the very serious subject at hand.
“What is there to tell?” Meike asked. “He is with Hans and they are both safe. That is all that matters.”
“Your mother made it sound like there’s considerably more to the story. I don’t mean any disrespect, but I choose to believe her version of events rather than yours.”
“My mother has a tendency to exaggerate upon occasion.”
“Meike, I heard the fear in her voice.”
“All mothers worry, Helen. In that respect, mine is no different from anyone else’s.”
Helen wasn’t willing to take the situation as lightly as Meike seemed to be. “Your mother is afraid for you. Should I be?”
Meike looked away. “Don’t make me lie to you, Helen.”
Helen forced Meike to face her. “Then tell me the truth.”
Meike looked at her, unblinking. “You first.”
Helen could feel her palms start to sweat. She pulled away, praying Meike hadn’t noticed. Or guessed the real reason she was here. “What do you want to know?”
“How you hurt your arm and why you reached out to me for help when you have friends and quite a few lovers who are thousands of miles closer to you than I am.”
“Distance is my least favorite method of measuring closeness. For friends or lovers.” Helen pushed a lock of hair behind Meike’s ear and held it there. “I feel closer to you than anyone in my life. I always have. I probably always will.”
“Why?”
Helen considered the question. “Because you are the first—no, the only woman I’ve ever loved.”
Meike looked torn between moving closer and moving away. Unfortunately, she chose the latter. “I don’t need or want you to love me, Helen, so please don’t say those words to me ever again.”
Meike headed for the door, but Helen’s voice stopped her before she reached it.
“Why? Because you’re too afraid to repeat them to me? To admit you still have feelings for me? I know you loved me, Meike. I could feel it every time you kissed me. I could see it every time you looked at me. I could hear it every time you called my name. Nothing has changed between us. You still want me as much as I want you. I know you do. I couldn’t give you what you wanted then, but I can now if you just stop running away. How can someone who’s brave enough to defy the Nazis be such a coward when it comes to following her heart?”
Meike whirled around, her eyes blazing white-hot. When she spoke, her words were just as heated.
“You’re right. Nothing has changed between us. You know why? Because we haven’t changed. I still want what I’ve always wanted and so do you. This isn’t a game, Helen. It’s my life. So stop trying to tell me what you think I want to hear instead of what you really feel. On the Southern Star, you asked me why I ended things with you. I left before you grew bored and decided to cast me aside like you did that awful woman who insulted me at the Cotton Club.”
“I would never have walked away from—”
“Of course you would. Because that is what you do. I have seen you do it time and time again, and I didn’t want you to do it to me. I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you, Helen. I left because I did. Sometimes, it takes more courage to walk away from what you love than to hold it close. Hopefully, you will never have to make that choice.”
*
Needing to regain her composure before she lost complete control of it, Meike crossed the hall and retreated to the safety of her room. She closed the door behind her, then leaned against it to keep from sinking to the floor.
Inviting Helen to come to Germany was a mistake. Having Helen here in her home was a mistake. She was tempting fate by bringing Helen so close to danger. Tempting fate by bringing Helen so close to her. She felt foolish for thinking she could keep her feelings for Helen at bay and for, however briefly, considering giving in to them once more.
She had decided years ago that nothing could come of a relationship with Helen. Why was she second-guessing herself now? Because that mistake might have been the biggest of all.
She should have kept Helen at a distance. For Helen’s sake as well as her own. If she had done that, she wouldn’t be in this position: regretting what once was and mourning what could never be.
Helen’s visit had barely begun and Meike was already wondering when it would end. What had she been thinking? That was the problem. She hadn’t been thinking. She had been feeling. Something that, despite her family’s riches, she couldn’t afford to do.
Logic said she couldn’t give in to emotion. Logic said she had to be impervious to her feelings. Hurt. Pain. Fear. And, most of all, love. But logic also said it was easier to give in to the Nazis than to fight them. How could using logic be right on one hand if it was so wrong on the other? Because nothing about love was logical. And, like it or not, she was in love with Helen Wheeler.
Someone knocked on the door. Tentatively. Uncertainly. Meike opened the door feeling the same way. Helen stood on the other side, freshened up from her long train trip from Paris and bearing no lasting effects of the argument they had gotten into a few minutes before.
Meike used to be able to compartmentalize her feelings like that. To forgive and forget at a moment’s notice. Now she couldn’t do either. All she could do was remember. How she and Helen used to be. How she wished they could be once more. How they could never be again.
“Hey, champ. How about that tour you promised me?”
Helen’s smile was sincere, inviting, and utterly irresistible. It made Meike feel like everything she had once thought impossible was now within reach. Yet why did it still seem so unattainable?
“Where do you want to start?” she asked.
“Wherever you take me.”
Helen held out her hand. Meike took it, unsure of where the journey might lead but certain she wanted to make it with Helen. She showed her the main rooms on the first and second floors and taught her how to navigate from them to her room. Then she took her up to the keep, the fortified tower that afforded visitors brave enough to climb its winding steps dazzling views of the lush green inner courtyard as well as the tranquil waters of Lake Bodensee.
“Where are the hidden passageways?” Helen asked. “Every castle I’ve ever read about has at least one.”
“We have several. One is in my room and one is in my parents’ room, but the most spacious by far is in the den. There is a secret lever built into the bookcase. I will show you where it is when we go back inside. My brother and I used to hide in the passageways when we were children. It was great fun listening to the search parties calling our names as they looked for us. Then my parents ruined it all by learning to exercise patience. They figured out if they waited long enough, hunger would win out over our impishness and Michael and I would eventually come out of hiding. The passageways were fun, but the keep was always my favorite part of the house. Michael and I would come up here all the time. We would pretend to be knights in shining armor defending the castle from enemy invaders. Our dog, Hildegard, was the damsel in distress.”
“Hildegard? You mean the lump of hair we saw lounging by the fire?”
Meike pretended to take offense. “Hilde has earned the right to be a woman of leisure. In her youth, she was a beautiful princess.”
“Should I start calling you Sir Galahad instead of Countess?”
Meike chuckled. “Champ will do.”
Some might see the term as a nod to her accomplishments, but she preferred to view it as a
sign of respect. Knowing she had earned Helen’s respect meant a great deal to her. Only earning her love could mean more. But the time for that had come and gone, no matter how hard Helen tried to convince her otherwise. She wanted to believe Helen meant what she said—desperately so—but what could come of it if she did? Nothing but more heartache. For both of them.
She pointed to the castle. “It’s easy to get disoriented, but we came from that way. That’s the east wing, where our rooms are. My parents live over there in the west wing. Guests, when we have them, end up scattered somewhere in between.”
Helen turned in a slow circle to get her bearings. She regarded the keep, the courtyard, and the rectangular castle that surrounded both. “What about the servants? Do they live in the attic or the dungeon?”
“Neither,” Meike said with a laugh. “Except for Rainer, they all have houses in town.”
“Where does he stay?”
“He has a room on the first floor. Down there, near the base of the keep. He moved in after his wife, Leni, died a few years ago. He and Leni had no children. He was lost without her. To be honest, I think my family and I would be lost without him as well.”
“How long has he been with you?”
“Over fifty years. He started working here when he was a boy of fifteen. My father’s parents were in charge of the estate then. A few years after my parents got married, my grandparents decided to hand over control of the estate to them. My grandparents moved to our summer home in the south of France, where they still live.”
“Ah, so that’s why you play the tournament in St. Tropez each year. I thought it was the stunning view of all those topless women on the beach.”
“Not quite.” Meike laughed again, something she always seemed to do when Helen was around. Whether she wanted to or not. “When my grandparents left for France, they assumed Rainer would go with them, but his devotion to this house and these grounds is so complete, he couldn’t bear to be separated from them. My father tells the story a bit differently, though. He says Rainer’s loyalty isn’t to the property but to me. Papa says he couldn’t tell who was prouder when I was born, himself or Rainer.”
“Rainer would do anything for you, wouldn’t he?”
Meike felt her cheeks warm. “Not just me. My brother, too. Rainer is quite fond of Michael as well.”
“But I bet he wouldn’t help Michael take on the Nazis.”
“What do you mean?” Meike stiffened, fearing she might have put a lifelong friend in danger. Then she forced herself to relax. This wasn’t someone looking to denounce her or her family in order to improve their own chances of survival. This was Helen. This was someone she could trust. With some things. Her heart was still off-limits.
“Smuggling money to Friedrich and getting away with it isn’t something you could do on your own. You have to have help. A courier. A distraction. A decoy. Something. Does Rainer help you?”
Meike smiled at how close Helen had come to guessing the truth. “I am sure he would if I asked, but I would never ask him or anyone I loved to put their lives at risk. I would only risk my own.”
“You wouldn’t have to ask. If you needed his help, I’m sure Rainer would volunteer. So would I.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you knew the consequences.”
“If you get caught, you could be sent to prison and sentenced to hard labor, you could end up in a concentration camp, or you could die. I know the risks, Meike, but if you’re willing to take them, so am I. Friedrich’s my friend, too. I want to help you. Both of you.” Helen gripped Meike’s arm. Meike could feel passion as well as sincerity in her touch. “Now tell me how you do it.”
Meike plunged ahead, diving headfirst instead of sticking in a toe to test the waters. “There is a passageway I haven’t told you about. A tunnel that is dank and dark and not very much fun. It is a little over ten kilometers long and just tall and wide enough for an average-sized man to walk through without having to stoop.”
“A six mile-long tunnel? Where does it lead?”
Meike stared into the distance. Toward the invisible border that separated Germany from Switzerland.
Helen’s eyes widened in recognition. “So that’s how you manage to make the trip undetected. But isn’t it dangerous? A tunnel that old could collapse at any time.”
“Over the years, my family has shored up the areas that need the most support, but, hopefully, I won’t need to make many more trips through it. A friend at Friedrich’s bank helped liquidate his accounts before we left for France a few weeks ago. He has nearly all the funds now. There are only a few thousand marks left to forward him.”
“Don’t you usually play in Lausanne a few weeks after the French Championships? Why can’t you pass off the money then instead of risking another trip through the tunnel?”
“Because Lausanne is too public. The only place I have any semblance of privacy is here. When I leave Rheinsteifel, I can’t go anywhere without someone trailing me. I have been put, as you Americans say, on a very short leash.”
“Who’s holding the end of the harness,” Helen asked contemptuously, “Oskar Henkel?”
“If not him, then someone like him. In the end, they are all interchangeable.”
Helen shook her head in wonder. “How do you do it? How do you play and win with all this pressure on your shoulders?”
“Because I have no choice.”
“We all have a choice, Meike. Some easy, some difficult. You simply have to make the one that’s best for you.”
The time to make a choice was coming. When it arrived, Meike knew the decision would be much harder than Helen made it seem. For her sake, she hoped she would make the right one.
Chapter Eight
May 1938
Rheinsteifel, Germany
Helen leaned over and flipped on the radio sitting on the nightstand. Hearing Adolf Hitler’s voice blaring from the speakers instead of the detective shows she favored took some getting used to. So did seeing the German people react to what was happening in their country. The newsreels she had watched back in the States made it seem like all Germans unanimously supported their leader and there were no dissenting voices. Now that she was here, she knew that wasn’t the case. Yes, the Nazis had more than their fair share of followers, but they had just as many enemies, too. Not only people in positions of power, but ordinary citizens like the ones in Rheinsteifel. The tiny town’s residents visibly stiffened when news of another atrocity broke and couldn’t meet their neighbors’ eyes whenever Hitler’s voice came over the radio like it did now.
Helen changed the station before Hitler got too warmed up, but the damage had already been done. Barbara, the maid who had been chatting amiably as she tidied the room, fell silent. Then her face went pale and her body language became as tense as Meike’s did whenever Helen asked her to weigh in on the worsening political situation in the country of which she was once so proud.
Barbara’s movements became jerky as she tried to complete her assigned tasks and make herself invisible at the same time. In her haste to escape Helen’s scrutiny, she accidentally knocked over a pitcher of water. “I am sorry, Miss Wheeler. Please forgive me.”
“No need to apologize.” Helen switched the radio to a Swiss station playing French-language love songs. The pleading in the lovelorn singer’s voice seemed to make Barbara more uncomfortable instead of less. In fact, she seemed on the verge of tears as she dabbed at the damp carpet with a cleaning cloth. “Relax. It’s water, not red wine. I don’t think it will leave a stain.”
“Yes, Miss Wheeler. I mean, no, Miss Wheeler. I mean—”
Helen held up her hands. “It’s okay. I’m one of the good guys.”
Barbara was only in her early twenties, but her eyes made her seem twice that age. She looked at Helen as if she had heard the “good guy” line before and wasn’t going to allow herself to be fooled a second time. “Yes, Miss Wheeler.”
After Barbara gathered her cleaning supplies and scurried o
ut of the room, Helen tried to decide whether she should include the incident in the report she was writing for Paul Lanier. Even though she didn’t consider what had happened a big deal, Uncle Sam might. After she added the additional details, she set the report aside until she could seal it in an envelope and take it to the post office in the village. Just as she did every week.
Her trips into the town center weren’t unusual. To stay in shape, she and Meike took long walks through the streets of Rheinsteifel twice a day. Meike showed her the sights and introduced her to everyone they met along the way. In the mornings, they would stop by Meike’s favorite bakery for a pastry and a cup of coffee. In the early evening, they would return to town for a stein of beer and a plate of braised pork leg or a bowl of hearty stew. When they made it back to the castle, Almuth would have a meal waiting to satisfy the appetites they had worked up during the walk home. Helen had never eaten so much or so well in her life.
But the food wasn’t the best part. The best part was seeing Meike in her element. Seeing her be truly, completely herself. Everyone they passed on the street or encountered in a restaurant greeted Meike by name. They knew her not because she was an internationally famous athlete but because she had grown up here. They knew her because she was one of them.
Helen had never received such universal approval. In her family’s eyes, she was a cause for shame rather than pride. They made their disapproval of her lesbianism loud and clear. They weren’t fond of her athletic ability, either. Her gifts, she was told time and time again, were wasted on her and would have done more good if they had been given to one of her brothers instead. But Mrs. Johnson, her first supporter and most ardent fan, hadn’t seen it that way. Neither did the villagers in Rheinsteifel.
The people here didn’t make her feel like an outsider. From the watchmaker she had drunk under the table to the butcher who kept trying to convince her that her shoulder would heal faster if she ate more red meat, they made her feel like she belonged. She knew her time here couldn’t last, but she wasn’t ready for it to come to an end. Perhaps she could find a way to extend it indefinitely. The next forty or fifty years would be a good start. If Meike would have her. And that scenario seemed highly unlikely given Meike’s reluctance to give her a second chance. Or was it a third? At this point, she had lost count.
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