A Secret Courage

by Tricia Goyer

  She looked back at the letter and her heart leaped when she looked at the date. It was written on the day he died. Surely that wasn’t a coincidence, was it?

  Then she looked through the book for any notes from her brother. She paused when she saw it. Emma, May God hide you in the cleft of the rock. Love, Samuel. The inscription wasn’t inside the front cover like most. Instead he’d written it on the title page. His bold script had covered the title and author’s name and her brow furrowed. Why hadn’t he signed it where there was blank space, inside the front cover?

  Emma studied the page, and then her eyes paused near the bottom. This book had been reprinted dozens of times, but the date of the printing didn’t make sense. The blood in her veins ran cold, and she knew there had to be a mistake. There was no way Samuel could have died when reported to her parents. Either that or someone at the publishing house had made a huge mistake.

  What does this mean? If this book is from Samuel was he trying to tell me something?

  Will said he’d return when he got back from London. He’d tell her whether he discovered anything. Now she couldn’t wait. She had to talk to him. She had to know.

  THIRTY-TWO

  August 23, 1943

  Will was waiting for Emma when she got off her shift the next day. He was sitting out in front of Danesfield House on the exterior steps, and she sat down to join him. Before she even asked him any questions, she launched into the book and the letter, explaining it in detail.

  He wore a look of both sadness and curiosity. “So what do you think it means, Emma?”

  “What if my brother was rescued? And what if he was asked to go on a secret mission? What if he’s really not dead?”

  “Sweetheart, I’m sure every mother and sister in America—in Britain too—wants to think there’s a chance that their son and brother isn’t dead.”

  Emma pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, pulling them tight. “I can’t explain it. I just have a feeling that Samuel is out there somewhere. It makes sense.” She took in a deep breath.

  “After I read the letter and book the first time, I put them away, but then something told me to look at the book closer. The book was a later printing, within the last few months. How could my brother have bought a book and signed it a year after his death? And the letter. He said he was hidden and safe. Will, maybe that was a sign. Maybe it’s his way of telling me he’s alive.”

  “Or maybe there is another explanation. What if Samuel’s friend lost or damaged the book? He could have bought another copy and—”

  Emma jutted out her chin. “No. I recognized his handwriting.” She sighed. “You just don’t want to admit it. I know my brother, and he knows me. He would expect me to see the date of printing and…” The tears flowed as Emma struggled with the frustration of Will not understanding her, the hope that maybe her brother could be alive, and the fear that he really was dead.

  And then there was the look in Will’s eyes. Worry mixed with tenderness and pain. She could see from his gaze that he’d do anything to carry this for her. He scooted closer on the step, opened his arms, and pulled her to him. His wool blazer was scratchy under her cheek, and her lips brushed against his neck. He held her tight, as if wanting to protect her from a bomb blast. She’d never felt so loved and protected. It wasn’t a sensual embrace, but one of undying care.

  “Sweetheart, sweetheart.” He kissed her forehead and hairline. He lifted her face and kissed her cheeks, her tears. “I would do anything to take away your pain, and more than anything else I want to whisper words of hope. I just know that to give you hope now would cause everything to hurt so much more later.”

  “You think I’m a fool.”

  “No. I think you’re a sister who loved her brother. I think you’re one of the smartest and most observant women I know. I adore how your mind works and how you see what others don’t. If you hadn’t been that way, you never would have looked twice at me. And while I’m thankful you have this one last letter to cling to, I urge you to let it go. Rest your mind. Refuse to let this take you away from the task at hand.

  “Your brother is gone, darling, but there are other boys out there who are still breathing and who need your help. There’s a war to be won, and you’re part of securing our victory. Don’t you see? The more you question, the less you can decipher, and if our boys in the air ever needed you, Emma, it’s now.”

  She pulled back and stared into Will’s eyes. “Yes, of course. What was I thinking.” She pressed her sweaty palms against her pants. “Now, what I should have asked…did you find out anything in London?”

  Will sighed and then looked away. He took her hand in his and studied it closely. Then he brought it to his lips. “I’m sorry, I was wrong. Maureen didn’t know who that man was. I suppose it was too much to hope.”

  Will ran his hand through his hair as he walked into the Dog and Badger. He needed a hot cup of tea and time to collect his thoughts.

  He recognized some of the local villagers, but instead of joining them as he sometimes did, he moved to a table in the back corner.

  When the tea came, Will thought over all that Emma had shared about her brother. He hadn’t wanted to get her hopes up, but he’d agreed with her assessment. There was more to Samuel’s disappearance than met the eye. Could he be alive?

  Will didn’t know, but if he ever hoped to have a future with Emma, he had to find out. Her brother meant everything to her. How could she step into any future when her mind was filled with questions? More than that, would her life be threatened by others who sought the truth?

  He finished a second cup of tea and left money for the bill on the table. Then he rose and hurried out of the building with quickened steps. He knew people in London, and they knew people who would be able to get some answers. Will had a feeling that the person who attacked Emma in London was seeking the same information about Samuel. And to protect her, he had to get to it first.

  August 30, 1943

  For the next week, Emma pushed Samuel out of her mind. Will was traveling to work on a project for Recording England, and she found it a good opportunity to concentrate on her work.

  The week had gone by quickly, especially since she’d taken on extra shifts, but Will would be returning today. Her heart was full. Full of thankfulness and love. She loved Will, she really did. And he loved her in return. Emma knew her work was making a difference in this war, and even more than that, God was making a difference within her.

  In addition to looking at possible sites for the secret weapons project, the PIs were still going over the covers from Hamburg. The bombers had used new techniques and devices—area bombing, the use of Pathfinders, and a new type of ground-scanning radar called H2S. Pathfinders were target-marking squadrons that mark locations for bombers, and Emma had already reported that the efforts had worked. The German armaments production had received severe damage, and the photos looked as if brimstone and fire had rained from the sky.

  Nancy approached Emma, and her eyes were bloodshot from straining.

  Emma glanced up. “A little different from training, isn’t it?”

  She nodded solemnly. “But I just tell myself that raids like this will mean we’re closer to the war being over. Surely the Germans can’t stand up under this for long.”

  Emma nodded. She’d thought that too at first, but Germany’s resilience never ceased to surprise her.

  “I have a friend from back home whom I met in London,” Nancy said. “She works in armament. She says they’re coming up with bombs that will be even more effective. I can’t imagine what that will look like.”

  Emma sighed. “I can’t imagine what more destruction will bring.”

  Nancy rubbed her forehead. “It seems strange that someone’s job is to create a cocktail of high-explosive and incendiary bombs and to calculate how many should fall and in what sequence to cause the most damage.”

  “Just like ours is to determine where they’d do the most da
mage.”

  “It’s amazing how quickly they start rebuilding, repairing,” Nancy said, as if that made things better.

  Emma didn’t know what to say next. She wanted to remind Nancy that this type of information should not be shared, even among friends, but she looked up to see Edward walking toward her. He glanced at Nancy with a look that made it clear she wasn’t to be involved in this conversation. She got the hint and hurried back to her desk.

  Emma looked up at Edward. “How can I help you today?”

  “I need you to run down to the archives and help Vera. I sent a courier downstairs yesterday asking for prints of Kassel.”

  “Kassel?” Her eyebrows folded.

  “Yes. Is there a problem, Emma?” His voice was short.

  “No, of course not.” Edward narrowed his gaze, and Emma knew he could see right through her.

  “I just know someone in Kassel.” Her jaw clenched.

  “It’s not up to us to question.” He placed his hands on her desk. “This isn’t about one person. This is about us returning back to the United States to a land still free.”

  “Yes, of course. I know.”

  “Kassel, please.”

  Emma rose from her chair and hurried out the door. She couldn’t believe she’d actually said that to Edward. For the first time since working with him she noticed disappointment in his eyes.

  As she walked down the two flights of stairs, Emma tried to pull together all she knew from the most recent reports. Just weeks ago German and Italian forces had evacuated from Sicily, and now all Italy was in Allied hands. She’d overheard that if they could release enough pressure from the sky, Hitler would surrender within the year. The thought thrilled her. But why Kassel? Did it have to do with the war production that Nancy had been talking about?

  Her knees were shaking by the time she reached the bottom of the stairs, and Emma told herself to focus on her work. She didn’t want to think about Will’s family in that town. Maybe they’ve left. Maybe they’ll stay safe.

  She approached the desk and found Vera and her coworker on the telephone. She approached and paused before Vera’s desk.

  “Yes, I know you asked for those covers yesterday. We are trying out best. Do you know how many photos move through our fingers through the day?” Then she took a deep breath and changed her tone. “I’m sorry, sir. I’ll get on them now.”

  Emma took a slip of paper and a pen from Vera’s desk. She wrote “Kassel, Germany” on it and slid it to her friend.

  Vera nodded, took the pen, and wrote something. Then she slid it back.

  “Two rows over from Peenemünde, bottom shelf.”

  “Thank you,” Emma mouthed and then walked back into the archives. When working on the Peenemünde covers, the girls downstairs often had their hands full, so occasionally she had to search for what she needed on her own.

  Emma walked into the archive room, and she was overcome as she always was with the immensity of information before her. As far as she could see, shelving ran from floor to ceiling. Boxes filled with photographs filled every inch and lined the floor. She placed a hand to her forehead and looked around, trying to figure out what direction “two rows over” meant. Left or right? Emma went to the right, moving down the aisle. She read the German city locations as she passed.

  Finally she came to a box that read “Kassel.” She noticed there were two more boxes in the first row. Emma hefted the most recent box and walked back the way she came. She couldn’t think of anything but doing her job. Today she couldn’t even think of Will.

  THIRTY-THREE

  August 31, 1943

  Morning light spilled through the window, and Emma carried the box of covers back down to the archives. Vera was there alone, and she looked as weary as Emma felt.

  “Thank you so much for bringing those back for me. I wish I could just send everyone back there to get what they needed.” Vera chuckled. “But I trust you. I know you wouldn’t get into what you weren’t supposed to. And I know you’d even put it right back.”

  Emma winked. “I think that means you want me to put this away.” She picked up the box.

  “If you would.”

  “And do I have permission to get the next box of Kassel covers on the next shift?”

  “Yes, but…” Vera tapped her pen on her lips. “Emma, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

  “Sure.” Emma put the box on the desk. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s just that I was talking to Berndt, and he said when he was walking to work the other day he saw something…or rather, someone…sneaking around the estate.” Vera crossed her arms and looked at her feet, as if wishing she could sink through the ground.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, it was dark, but…well, he said that it looked like Will.”

  “Will?” Emma’s brow furrowed. “Why would you even say that? Will has been out of town.”

  Vera shrugged. “He just told me he saw someone walking through the woods. In an area he calls the earthworks. I’m not really sure what that means.”

  Emma picked up the box again and took a step toward the archive. “Vera, please, this is silly. Will would have no reason to be sneaking around the estate. And like I said, he isn’t even in town.” Yet as she said the words, a sinking feeling centered in her gut. She could trust him, couldn’t she?

  “Well, I’ll tell Berndt that, but he believed it was Will. He also said the man was carrying a pack, as if he was bringing something or dropping something off…” Vera grabbed Emma’s arm. “Just be careful around him, will you?”

  Emma eyed Vera’s hand on her. “Yes, of course. But honestly, Vera, I’m not sure I’m the one you need to be worried about.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Never mind,” Emma called over her shoulder as she walked into the archive room. “I have a feeling you wouldn’t listen even if I told you.”

  As planned, Will arrived to pick up Emma for an early dinner, promising to get her back in time for her shift. He seemed distracted as he led her into the Dog and Badger, and he asked for a table away from the center of the room. The waitress seated them by the back window. The restaurant appeared as she supposed it had for the last hundred years with heavy wood furniture, exposed beams, plastered walls, and art from the area. The best view, though, was outside the window. Emma gazed longingly across the road at the church, remembering their time together as she tromped around in his clothes.

  Will spoke briefly about his time at the Recording Britain offices. “They asked me to paint one more painting—of the airbase this time—and then I’ll have to move on. Most likely to Dover.”

  Emma nodded her understanding. “I’m sure that will be beautiful to paint. I can only imagine.” Emma swallowed hard, a mix of emotions coming over her.

  “But I’ll be back, Emma. It’s not too far of a drive. And when the war ends, we can talk about spending our lives together. I would love to meet your family and have you meet mine.”

  “Your mother?”

  “Yes, she would love to meet you, and the rest…” Will paused. He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “Let’s not talk about that now.”

  “You have family in Germany. Kassel, right?” Her words caught in her throat.

  “You remembered.” He smiled, but then his smile faded when he saw her face.

  “Yes, I was just wondering.”

  “Do you have something to tell me?”

  “No. Of course not.”

  She attempted to straighten her furrowed brows. The waitress came, and she ordered from the limited menu. She didn’t feel like eating much and ordered a small cup of soup. “In Germany, do they send the children away? To the country, like they do here?” she asked when the food arrived.

  “I haven’t talked to my grandmother and cousins since the beginning of the war, but my mother told me that my cousin Greta decided to keep the family together. As far as I know they are all still in the ci
ty. Her husband works for the railroad, and they live near the city center. I’ve visited many times. I’ve heard Kassel is quite full now, not just filled with troops, but people who had to leave their own towns that were bombed. From what I hear, people have been moving like water from many streams into a lake, and Kassel is that lake.”

  Emma’s stomach clenched with his words. She took a sip of soup from the spoon but had a hard time swallowing it.

  “If you had to get word to them, if it was an emergency, would there be a way?”

  He put down his fork and steepled his fingers, leaning his chin against his hands. “I suppose there is always a way.”

  She nodded and then looked out at the church again. She focused on the tombstones, understanding she held life and death in her hands. She shifted in her seat, and Will took a sip from his coffee.

  “This war is a hellish one, and while I pray for victory, I also pray for my cousins. And as strong Christians I know they are praying too. Surely they do not pray for the madmen who’ve taken over their country, but no doubt for their neighbors, friends, themselves. God loves them as well as us, Emma, but many prayers will go unanswered, I’m afraid. Those I love are suffering, will suffer, just like so many from our country too.”

  “I’ll be praying for them,” she said simply. Emma knew it was all she could do. Then she turned her attention to the next thing she needed to talk to him about.

  “I had the strangest conversation with Vera. She said that Berndt saw you sneaking around the estate—near the earthworks. She said he was sure it was you.”

  Will’s mouth dropped open. He leaned forward and frowned. “How is that possible? I’ve been out of town.”

  “Yes, I know. That’s what I told her.” A shiver ran down her spine. “I’m not sure what Berndt is up to. It’s almost as if he’s trying to cause division between us.”

  “I’m not sure either, but it’s good to know.” Will rubbed his chin. “And the curious thing is…why would I be sneaking around? Especially when I’m allowed to walk through the front gates.”