by Cara Putman
Right pedal. At least she hoped that was the correct one. She pushed it to the floor, and the vehicle squealed as it launched from the hole. “What do I do?”
“Push on the middle pedal.”
She shoved it down and the vehicle stopped, throwing her forward like a rag doll. Her chest slammed into the steering wheel, and she moaned. “I don’t want to drive.”
Scott hurried toward her. “You okay?”
Should she tell him it felt like the steering wheel was imbedded in her? There wasn’t anything he could do about it. “Umhmm.”
“Slide on over, and let’s get back to Naples.”
Rachel nodded and eased across the seat. Her neck felt like she’d spun around a ride at a fair too many times. If she kept her head steady and didn’t turn, maybe she’d be okay. Then she’d crawl in her bed and not move until her ribs quit aching and her head stopped throbbing.
Captain Justice didn’t look good. He hadn’t expected the vehicle to lurch from the pit with her foot pressed against the gas. She’d been game to learn something new, and now she shifted like an eighty-year-old woman who’d experienced a beating. What else could he have done? Asked her to push?
He didn’t like being this far from other soldiers. At this time of night, there was no guarantee their own guys would welcome them if they stumbled across a patrol. He hadn’t meant to spend so much time searching for the missing altarpiece. Now he didn’t know the safest course of action. Find a place to hide along the road and risk running into partisans or Germans? Or push back without headlights to Naples?
The road was littered with craters left from bombs and possible mines. If he wasn’t careful, they’d get stuck again or worse. On the open road they were the perfect target for some flyboy who couldn’t tell if they were friend or foe in the dark of night.
He edged the vehicle forward, trying to spot the deeper darkness of the craters. At this rate it would be daybreak before they returned to Naples. The front left tire sagged into a pit, then bounced ahead. Rachel gasped.
“How bad are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.” The words were tight, as if pushed through a straw.
“Not buying it.”
“Too bad.” Rachel looked away and he waited. “There’s nothing you can do. Just get us back to Naples.”
“That’s the problem.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
“We can’t return in the dark. The best option is to find a place to pull off and wait for dawn when we can see the road.”
“No.”
“This isn’t a debate.”
“I can’t spend the night out here with you.” She shrank away from him on the seat.
“Ma’am, I want to return you in one piece.” He inched the car forward as she gazed out, her body angled away from him. They inched along. Had the Germans seeded the road with mines as they retreated? He hadn’t seen any earlier, so it should be safe. Still, should he risk it when he had company?
Nothing the army had given him laid out a procedure for situations like this. By himself he’d find a place to hole up. Today he had a passenger. A beautiful one. One he needed to protect in body and reputation. He needed someplace she’d know she was safe.
He’d heard stories of reporters and soldiers becoming more than friends. That wasn’t his plan. She was his assignment for a few days. Nothing more. Elaine had made it clear when she broke their engagement the day he boarded the Queen Mary that military life and love didn’t mix. He had no reason to think Rachel, no Captain Justice, felt any different. And with the nature of war, chances were strong he’d never see her again.
It felt like the road inched beneath them as he scoured for danger. “Help me find a place to pull over.”
Rachel shifted but didn’t look at him. “What do you think I’m doing?”
Scott bit down to keep from snapping back. He could imagine what cycled through her mind. How could he make her feel safe instead of stuck between unknown armies and him? Returning to the village wasn’t safe now. It sat behind them, and the road to Naples lay in front, both lost in darkness.
Chapter 6
May 17
She couldn’t alter the fact she’d spent the night with the handsome Lieutenant Lindstrom without anyone to verify nothing happened. Who would believe searching for an altarpiece in an isolated cave had made it impossible to return? It sounded weak even to her, and she’d participated in the search. It wasn’t like she could find a cab or another way home.
She couldn’t deny he made her feel safe, unlike some of the GIs who leered at her like they hadn’t seen an American woman in months. He evoked images of strength and honesty with the way he treated others, qualities that drew her. But did she trust Lieutenant Lindstrom?
She didn’t know.
That didn’t matter. She had to rely on her instincts and work with him. Especially if she wanted to make it back to Naples. “I haven’t seen anything that looks like a lane.”
Scott huffed out a breath. “Me either. Doesn’t make sense though. I remember seeing several on the drive.”
“Maybe we haven’t gotten close enough to Naples yet.”
“Possibly.”
Rachel searched her side of the vehicle. Somewhere she’d find safety. She refused to consider the alternative. After several interminable minutes she saw something to the right. “Lieutenant, stop!”
He eased the car to a stop. “What?”
“Can you see through there? I think it’s a path.”
Scott leaned forward and she eased back against the seat to give him more space. “I don’t know. Let me scout down it a bit.” He pulled the vehicle under a stand of trees, then turned to the back, slapped a helmet on his head, and grabbed a rifle of some sort. “Stay in the jeep. Grab a C ration to eat. There’s a can opener in my bag. Wouldn’t hurt to slap your helmet on too. If anything makes you nervous, head for that tree. Then I’ll know where to find you.”
“Sure.” Sprinting into the unknown darkness sounded like a perfect nighttime war activity.
He stepped from the jeep and melted into the darkness. Every so often, she caught a glint of moonlight off his helmet before he disappeared from view.
The darkness squeezed her, almost as real as a person. Her skin felt clammy as her mind groped for safety.
They’d seen an occasional cottage or farm off the road. But she’d heard rumors of the Italian men who lived in the woods, avoiding being pressed into service by the German army. Were any of them watching her?
Scott worked his way down the path. He tried to pick his steps for maximum stealth, but it was hard to avoid twigs when the sliver of moon kept hiding behind the clouds. He hated leaving Rachel behind but couldn’t see an alternative. The uncertainty by the road seemed safer than the unknown off the road on a narrow path leading deeper into darkness.
As he neared the end of the path and a clearing, he edged back into the trees. A cottage. No lights shone from it, but he needed to proceed with caution. Who knew what waited inside? A small structure to the left looked like it was used to shelter animals, though he didn’t see or smell any.
How best to proceed?
He didn’t want anyone in the dwelling shooting before he could explain his presence. Yet he hadn’t seen much to indicate whether anyone still called this place home.
Guess there was one thing to do. God, keep me safe. He aimed his gun high and then moved. He didn’t want to leave Rachel alone one moment more than necessary.
“Ciao?” Scott cleared his throat and tried again. “Hello? I’m a friend.”
Well, he could hope the words were true. Pray this wasn’t the home of a partisan who’d decided Mussolini and Hitler were the right men to lead Italy into the future.
The door eased open and a capped head appeared. “Sì?”
Great. Now he kne
w someone was here, but what should he say next? His Italian still came out rusty, and he didn’t want to speak the wrong phrase. How to make the man understand he just needed a place to stay?
“We’re . . .” Not lost. He knew where they were. He just didn’t like where that was. “My friend and I need . . . rest.”
The man cracked the door farther. “Americano?”
“Sì.”
“Come.”
After some Italian mixed with sign language and pointing, they arrived at an understanding. They could stay until daybreak and get off the main road. “Grazie.”
He hustled toward the road. Time to get Rachel to shelter. He reached the curve and slowed his pace. Time to be deliberate and make sure no one had joined her. As he eased up to the jeep, he tensed. He couldn’t see Rachel.
Should he head to the tree? No, examine the jeep first, then head to the rendezvous point. He crept toward the jeep. “Captain Justice?” The word rasped into the silence.
“Lieutenant?”
“Everything okay?”
She uncurled from the tight ball she’d coiled into. No wonder he had missed her. “We’ll spend the night down the path. There’s a farmhouse and a place for us.”
She nodded. “Are we walking?”
“No, I’ll move the jeep. Can’t leave it here.”
Even though he’d checked the house and barn, Scott inched down the lane. He almost backed in so they could leave in a hurry but decided to turn it around as soon as they reached the house.
When they pulled up to the farmhouse, the farmer waited with a dim lantern casting shadows along the walls. A pallet of blankets rested against the wall. He pointed at it. “You . . .” He folded his hands along his head as if sleeping. “I . . .” He tapped his forehead, as if he would watch.
Scott nodded. “Grazie.” He turned to Rachel. “You take the blankets. I’ll stick with the jeep.”
“Are you sure this is safe?” Her gaze darted around the small room.
Then a woman in a nightgown, blanket clutched around her shoulders, entered the room. “My wife.” The man beamed as he touched his wife’s shoulder. “She . . .” He whipped his hand as if stirring something.
Rachel’s shoulders relaxed. Did the presence of the woman make her feel safer? “You all right here?”
“I will be. Thanks.” She climbed over to the blankets and eased down onto them. Her eyes closed, and she fell asleep in an instant.
“I sleep.” He pointed outside, then bowed a bit toward the couple and slipped away. It wouldn’t be comfortable, but when he returned to Naples, he could say with full honesty a couple and a door stood between them.
That was the best he could do. It had to be enough.
The couple whispered, their melodic Italian wrapping around Rachel as she tried to relax. As soon as she heard Scott leave, her body seemed determined to stay awake.
She’d come to Italy to find her father.
A man she knew so little about. When she got back to her hotel room, she needed to dig deeper through the journal and diary to find any clue that identified him. If today was any indication, she couldn’t count on what the next day would bring.
Rachel tried to draw in a deep breath, but her ribs protested. She’d hit the steering wheel hard. While she hadn’t wanted to worry the lieutenant, she’d feel sore for a while.
Was this even a shadow of how her momma felt as she battled tuberculosis? Rachel hadn’t received any letters from her mother in the month since she’d left the States. Worry kept pricking her. Was Momma still alive? The alternative crimped her heart.
Someone touched her shoulder, and she opened her eyes. Maybe she’d dozed after all.
“Signorina?”
Rachel rubbed her hair from her face, her thoughts foggy and her torso battered. Where was she? A farmhouse somewhere in Italy. A rumble sounded outside, vibrations snaking through the floor and into her body.
“Lieutenant? Is he here?” Her voice croaked as the wife helped her to her feet and directed her out back, not seeming to understand her question. Rachel searched for him but didn’t see him on her way to the outhouse. When Rachel returned, the woman shoved a package in her hand.
“Cibo.”
“Thank you for the food.” Rachel hurried out the front door. Where was Scott? If he left her, she didn’t know what she’d do. Another explosion rumbled somewhere. It was close enough to curdle her blood.
“Miss Justice, are you ready?” Scott moved with efficient, hurried movements as he readied the jeep.
“Yes.”
“Then let’s be off. There’s a battle raging somewhere near here I’d like to avoid.”
Rachel clambered into the jeep. Almost the moment she touched the inside, Scott had it lurching forward. She winced at a flash of pain as her head lashed forward.
“Sorry.”
“Just get me back to Naples in one piece.”
“That’s the aim.”
The ride was quiet, punctuated by the rush of planes sweeping overhead. “Those are ours.”
Rachel vowed to spend some time with those flash cards. The lieutenant kept his gaze bouncing between the road and the sky, and his attentiveness helped her relax.
After a long morning they entered the outskirts of Naples. She had never been so delighted to see the battered and demolished city. After working through checkpoints and worming around rubble, Scott pulled in front of the hotel.
“Here you go.”
“Thank you.” She sat in the jeep, unable to move as the reality hit her. They’d made it back.
“Do you need help?” He looked at her in a way she couldn’t quite decipher. It wasn’t the look most men would have used. It felt like he didn’t want to overstep and wasn’t sure how to help.
She pushed against the dash and winced against the flash of pain. “I’m fine. Thank you again for getting me home.” Well, the closest thing she had to home in this devastated place. “See you later today?”
“Let’s plan on tomorrow morning. Check in with your editor and get some real rest.”
His protective words made her smile. “Yes, sir.”
He flashed a salute with a smile, then waited until she entered the hotel’s front doors before pulling the jeep into traffic. She watched until he disappeared. She’d been assigned to him for several more days, but maybe she’d stay in Naples. She made her way to her room and sank onto her twin bed.
“Rachel Justice. Where did you keep yourself last night?” Barbara Skiles looked elegant in her standard-issue uniform as she sashayed through the door and across the small hotel room.
“Nowhere important.” She softened her words with a smile at her fellow journalist.
“Uh-huh. Spill the beans, girl. There’s not enough excitement around here so I need you to liven things up.” Barbara brushed the front of her jacket, then smirked at Rachel. “And if he was tall, dark, and handsome, all the better.”
No, light brown hair, gray eyes, and a few inches taller than her was best.
“Do tell us you’re okay.” Dottie Winchester slipped around Barbara and looked like she couldn’t decide whether to be scandalized or grateful to see Rachel. “I’ve been frantic.”
Rachel could imagine her roommate worrying and bringing others into the party as the hours dragged by. War or no, Dottie seemed determined to keep everyone safe and together. “I’m sorry. If I’d had a way to get word to you, I would have. My army escort and I got stuck after dark on a mine-laced, cratered road. He found a safe place for us to wait for daybreak.”
“Your escort?” Barbara waggled her eyebrows. “I knew this would be good. Tell us more.”
“There’s nothing to tell.” Rachel sighed as she tried to think of a way to distract Barbara. To explain the care he had taken of her without once threatening to slip over a boundary. “I s
lept in a small farmhouse on a pile of blankets chaperoned by a sweet, older Italian couple, while he spent the night in the jeep.”
Dottie twisted her hands together. “Were you safe?”
“I made it back.”
“I’m glad.” Dottie winked. “I’d hate to think my remaining roommate option is Barbara.”
“Good news, toots.” Barbara linked arms with Rachel, and she brushed down the stab of pain. “After you get cleaned up, we’re headed to the press office. The buzz is some of us will be assigned to specific divisions. That means we’re headed out.”
“I’ve got orders for next week.” Though moving ahead couldn’t be any more dangerous than the adventure she’d just had.
“You know how it is. When the army says move, . . .”
Dottie joined Rachel on the other side, and they spoke in unison. “We move.”
Chapter 7
May 22
As the days passed, Scott couldn’t wait for action. He took what other officers called jaunts around the countryside when he could, but when Miss Justice disappeared from her hotel with an assignment to a unit, he lost his guaranteed access to a jeep. Without her he had fewer tools to complete his mission. The inactivity made his days drag when he couldn’t talk his way out of Naples. He tried to contact her at the press office, but whatever they had her working on left her no time to respond because he never heard from her. For now the army needed her on another assignment.
As May drew to a close, he was left to his own devices. He rested in a netherworld between the “real” army, all of whom had dozens of tasks, and the occupation government, busy rebuilding Naples. They treated him like a civilian and resented his presence.
“What’s happening?” DeWald’s voice startled Scott from his depressed thoughts at his makeshift desk.
“Didn’t hear you.”
The man chuckled wryly. “Finishing work on your next assignment? There are a few details to organize.”
“So I hear.” Could he help the slight edge to his words? Not if he languished in the office another day.
