A Sentimental Journey Romance Collection

by Dianna Crawford

  Besides the perils involved with this venture, Annelise had to contend with having an attractive man living at home. He not only had taken all his meals with the family over the past three days, but he also constantly pumped her for personal information. That was the hardest of all: being expected to lay her heart out on the table as if it were an open textbook to be read aloud, every painful detail discussed.

  She understood the reasoning behind the questions. Tomorrow they’d travel to his hometown in the company of a distrustful German officer. Something about Erik’s tone and manner implied he was truly interested in her. But considering her past experiences of being betrayed first by her father and then by her former fiancé—two men she’d loved—she was hesitant to give these new illusions about Erik much credence. It didn’t help having him assigned duties in the warehouse, either. All he had to do from any area of the open space was look through the office window to observe her every movement. She’d caught him doing just that on a number of occasions.

  The door to the filing room opened, making Annelise jump like a nervous cat.

  “Finally.” Erik smiled disarmingly, devastatingly handsome now that his own clothes had been laundered and pressed and he no longer had to wear Axel’s things. His grin turned smug when he patted the bulge of papers in his inside jacket pocket. “Shipping papers all set?”

  “All but the bottom line.” Giving the carriage return lever a last shove, she pounded the keys hard enough to print the total number, weight, and price of the cabbage crates on all four carbon copies. Then she rolled the forms up another line and leaned closer to proofread them.

  Erik moved to stand behind her. “I know this whole marriage thing has you on edge,” he said gently, his fingertips resting lightly on the chair back. “Especially with our having to drive to Sjaellands Point with the captain tomorrow. But since you’re just now being introduced to my family, there’s not much you’ll be expected to know. As long as we keep our own story straight, about meeting at church—a place where a Nazi would never be caught dead—and how I was attracted by your beauty and shyness, how I kept making a point of sitting by you until you couldn’t ignore me any longer, we should fare just fine.”

  Annelise didn’t trust herself to look up at him. Not when his voice held that quiet sincerity that made the words sound true, even to her.

  “And how I finally convinced you to take Sunday afternoon walks with me,” he went on.

  “Yes,” she said, repeating the story they’d rehearsed so often, “and how on that last walk before you sailed, you asked me to marry you.”

  “And how you kept me on tenterhooks for the longest minute of my life before giving me that beautiful yes.”

  Her gaze drifted up to meet his eyes, and she lost herself in the sincerity of their light brown depths.

  Axel pounded on the window.

  The fragile dream popped like a soap bubble. Annelise swung back to her typewriter and ripped out the invoice forms. Fingers trembling, she tore off the last copy for her files and handed the rest to Erik. “The two of you be careful.”

  “Count on it,” he said, hurrying out the door.

  That was close, Annelise conceded. I was almost starting to believe that pretty story he concocted. She tightened her lips and sniffed, draping the typewriter cover over the machine. But he was so near. And his words sounded so—so real. But that’s just it. They’re entirely made up, a script he wrote in his mind. He’s merely a good actor, no more sincere than Tony. I must not succumb to such fantasies again!

  The worn passenger seat squeaked as Erik jumped into the truck. He thought it odd that Axel, the boss of the factory, would undertake a menial chore like delivering produce. He’d seemed unusually keyed up all morning. “Is there something I should know in case there’s trouble?” Erik asked as they pulled away from the warehouse.

  Axel shook his head. “Not really. I just needed to stay busy, keep my mind off things.” He paused. “I received some bad news. Nazis captured a flight crew—one that passed through Copenhagen last month. Some of our Norwegian contacts were trying to sneak the guys across to England and were intercepted by a wolf pack of U-boats. The Nazis removed the airmen, then sank the fishing boat with its crew still aboard.”

  “Oh, man. That’s insane.” Disturbed at the horrible news, Erik nudged the brim of his cap back and scratched his head. He switched his attention to the ancient city buildings lining both sides of the old cobblestone street.

  “The submarine captain has since turned our boys over to the Gestapo in Belgium.”

  “I hear the Gestapo is quite accomplished at, shall we say, persuasive interrogation. Will this put you and your sister in danger? I can’t imagine someone as delicate as Annelise at the mercy of those brutes.”

  Axel glanced over with a half smile as he guided the truck toward the wharfs. “Don’t worry about Sis. Only one person—her contact in case something should happen to me—knows of her involvement. The Resistance has extremely strict rules. Information is given out only on an absolute ‘need to know’ basis. I have no idea myself how many people are connected to the underground. I do believe our ranks are swelling every day.”

  “So you’re sure Annelise is safe? She acts so … guarded around me. So jittery. Maybe you put too much on her, having her pretend to be my fiancée.”

  He didn’t answer right away. “Actually, I think it’ll do her some good. Since she arrived in Denmark, she’s been on a crusade to make her life count for something more substantial than being ‘some man’s doormat.’ She used to be a naive little innocent. Now she’s lost all trust in men. I guess I’ve only made things worse, dragging her into the middle of Nazi society.”

  Erik rubbed his chin in thought. “I can’t imagine anyone deliberately hurting someone so lovely as Annelise, causing her to be so apprehensive.”

  “You can’t?” Axel grinned. “Sounds like you have something in common with the captain—an infatuation with my little sister.”

  Erik averted his gaze, noting that the dock area was crowded with vessels, many of which were German. Pleasure boats no longer had permission to sail, but fishing trawlers, ferries, tugs, and other working boats stirred on the water. Here and there on the walls of buildings he spotted scrawled Vs, victory signs that mysteriously reappeared again and again no matter how often the Germans painted over them. He glanced back at Axel. “Even if I did find myself attracted to her, being thrust at her out of the blue as I was hasn’t endeared me to the poor girl.”

  “Nevertheless, I’m beginning to think throwing the two of you together was the smartest thing I’ve done in a long time. Annie needs her safe little mind-set shaken. It was a shock when she finally woke up and realized our dad had a number of women on the side. Then to have her fiancé do the same thing to her …” He shrugged. “But hey, no one gets a free ride through this life. Just ask those little urchins in our cellar or the flyboys being interrogated by the Gestapo as we speak.” He inhaled a sharp breath. “I can’t let myself dwell on them. All we can do is pray our guys going out today will have more luck taking the inland waterways.”

  As his friend reverted to silence, Erik mulled over the new revelations about Annelise. One concept his father had hammered into Erik’s head since boyhood was that he really get to know a young lady before considering developing a serious relationship. He could still hear his dad’s voice, see him counting off the items on his fingers as he spoke: “Is she a believer? Is she as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside? Seek God’s approval before venturing forth and choosing a wife. Bear in mind, this will be the mother of your children.”

  But one thing he could not escape. Everything within him yearned to stay close to Annelise, to shield her from ever being hurt again. Father God, if You don’t want me to choose this woman, please take these feelings from me … even if she’s like a warm, fragrant breeze after a cold, hard winter.

  “Better quit daydreaming,” Axel chided, halting the truck. “Let’
s get these crates unloaded for the crane. The ship’ll be out of here with the tide.”

  As Erik reached for the door handle, he spotted Nazis in pairs patrolling the docks, some with vicious dogs on leashes while they checked and poked into the various loads of cargo. And here we are, trying to smuggle some men out with a shipload of cabbage! Time to get his mind on what was important. And forget this romance nonsense.

  Chapter 4

  Though a little early for spring to eradicate winter’s drabness, gentle new greens tinted the rolling countryside as Rundstedt’s shiny black touring car purred past tidy farms and red tile–roofed villages between Copenhagen and Sjaellands Point. Annelise tried to relax and enjoy the scenery, despite feeling trapped between her alleged fiancé and the German officer whose attentions she’d practically encouraged over the past several months.

  “What did you say kept you away so long?” the captain asked in his heavily accented Danish. He leaned around her to focus his shrewd gray eyes on Erik. “An entire year fishing? The North Sea is rife with hazards in the winter months, is it not?”

  Erik gave a casual nod. “That’s what delayed us. Whenever the sea became too rough, we’d make for the nearest friendly port and sell our fish there, but for much less than we’d have gotten at home. Then we’d go out to replace our catch, only to be forced back to the nearest little fishing hamlet. The crew was determined to stay out ’til we could return with a big profit. Myself, I’d have given up sooner. I was desperate to get back to my Annelise.”

  “Meanwhile, I was at home,” she breathed on an airy sigh, “imagining you’d thought better of your proposal or found someone else.”

  “Never.” He smiled at her and squeezed her hand, a gentle reminder that he’d been a perfect gentleman from the first, always respectful and considerate. She returned his smile, noticing the way his dark hair caught the light among the thick strands, complementing his healthy complexion.

  Annelise saw the captain’s fist tighten, and knew he hadn’t missed Erik’s possessive gesture. Her gaze drifted ahead to the truckful of armed soldiers escorting Rundstedt’s vehicle. Another followed behind them, their presence adding to the discomfiting reality that she, her brother, and their American friend were completely at the mercy of the Nazis.

  She wondered how Erik viewed their current predicament. The assignment that brought him to Denmark had been risky enough without this. But to his credit, he seemed entirely at ease, answering the captain’s almost nonstop questions while they covered the nearly seventy miles to Erik’s hometown. Surely she’d have picked up on any nervousness he felt, sensed it in his grip. He’d held her hand in that protective way since they’d left Copenhagen. Farce upon farce. How much more would they have to endure?

  Seated up front with the driver, Axel, the conjurer of this entire mess, turned around. “Looks like we’re coming up on Sjaellands’s Point. We’ve made pretty good time.” Nothing about his demeanor indicated nervousness, Annelise noted. Her brother seemed made for this intrigue business.

  She glanced down the gentle slope to the picturesque fishing port tucked around a sheltering cove in Ise Ford Bay. Beyond it the Kattegat Strait led out to the North Sea. With Nazi restrictions added to the danger of being at sea during wartime, idle fishing trawlers and ferries crowded the docks. No doubt countless idle seamen would be lazing about on this pleasant sunny morning.

  Annelise’s chest tightened as she pondered her present situation. She was coming into this town in an enemy convoy, supposedly betrothed to Erik Nielsen, a local lad whom no one here had ever laid eyes on. She needed her head examined!

  The vehicles slowed to a crawl behind some milk cows plodding down the road. The herder, a gangly young man in a worn cap, turned and saw the trio of official vehicles. He gave a sharp whistle in the direction of his dog, then started purposefully for Rundstedt’s car.

  Annelise held her breath. Had this ruse been discovered? Had he purposely blocked the road to inform on them?

  “So this is the little bride-to-be.” The lanky redhead’s freckled nose nearly touched the car window as he spoke through the glass, giving the interior a once-over.

  Erik’s heart hammered against his rib cage. Betrayal? He manufactured a smile.

  The stranger grinned roguishly as he looked Annelise over. “No wonder you’ve kept this doll to yourself. She’s too good for the likes of you, old man.”

  Erik released a pent-up breath and winked at Annelise as he rolled down the window.

  “Seems my friend has lost his tongue,” the fellow said. “But I’m quite capable of introducing myself.” He reached inside to shake Annelise’s hand. “Jakob Kirkgarde. You must be the mysterious Miss Christiansen we’ve heard so much about.”

  “Call me Annelise. It’s a pleasure to meet one of my fiancé’s friends. Erik hasn’t been nearly so forthcoming about you.”

  A cocky one-sided grin accompanied Kirkgarde’s raised brow. “Now I know why.”

  “Driver, move on,” Captain von Rundstedt abruptly ordered.

  Kirkgarde stepped back. “Guess my dog’s cleared the cows off the road. I’ll drop by later to meet the rest of your party.” He tipped his cap, and his gaze grazed the others in the car, revealing nothing.

  As the vehicle drove past the herder and his cows, Erik saw Rundstedt extract his hand from a holstered pistol. He squelched a smirk. Apparently the Nazi had some fears of his own due to the growing tensions between the Danes and the occupying forces. But then, the Germans had good cause to sweat. There was scarcely a Dane in the entire country who didn’t abhor their haughty presence. Just last night an explosion lit up the sky when yet another shipyard was sabotaged. This little caravan easily could have been ambushed.

  Nearing the port of Sjaellands’s Point, Erik prayed that everyone in town was in on his charade. The last thing he needed was for someone to try something stupid … or divulge his true place of origin.

  The lead German truck turned onto the side street Erik had indicated, and Rundstedt’s driver followed suit. A smiling couple standing on the corner waved as they passed.

  “More friends?” The captain sounded already bored with the day’s agenda.

  “That’s right. It’s a small town.”

  Axel turned and grinned. “Methinks we’re all gonna be excess baggage for you and Sis today. Perhaps after we’ve eaten, the captain would like to accompany me to the docks while I look for some vacant warehouses to rent.”

  Knowing his friend was attempting to ease the tension, Erik resisted the urge to thump him on the back.

  Rundstedt seemed oblivious to the undercurrent. “We find it prudent to make our presence known wherever we go, check through a few crates, make sure all is as it should be.”

  The Nazi caravan drew up to a well-kept, two-story house where a group of people waited outside, smiling and waving as their returning “son” arrived.

  Eager to greet them, Erik hopped out. He’d never actually seen these relatives face-to-face but had heard stories about them his whole life.

  An older man bearing a strong resemblance to his real father stepped forward. Even with the receding hairline and somewhat hunched shoulders, Erik recognized his dad’s younger brother from family photographs. There was no mistaking those kind hazel eyes or that Nielsen smile as the man engulfed him in a bear hug. “Welcome home, son. We’ve missed you.”

  “Don’t forget about me,” a feminine voice cajoled from behind. Turning, Erik saw his aunt, another familiar face from the family album. A bit shorter than he’d expected, she wore a dark skirt and white blouse, and her graying blond hair was pinned neatly in place. Already he was adjusting to thinking of the couple as his parents.

  “Mom.” He wrapped his arms around her plump little form and kissed her soft cheek. “I missed you, too. And your cooking. I sure hope you’ve made some of your famous frikadeller and rabarbergrød. I’ve been craving them for ages.” His mouth watered at the thought of the Danish meatballs and rhubarb pu
dding, specialties of his family.

  “Well, they are your favorites.” She didn’t bat an eye. “Your father and I are just glad you’ve come home in one piece. Such foolishness, venturing out to sea to fish during wartime. Tsk, tsk.”

  Some individuals on the sidelines surged toward him then, all talking at once. Three of them were his cousin and alleged sister, Bergitte; her husband, Svend, and their baby. The others he recognized as another aunt and her husband, the local baker.

  “Bergitte, Svend.” He hugged the petite blond beauty and shook hands with her burly, Viking-like husband. “Don’t tell me this strapping towhead is little Thor, big enough to walk already!” Then he turned to the other couple. “Aunt Lisbet. Uncle Karl. Wonderful to see you both again.” Trying to respond to everyone’s comments amid all the hugs and greetings, Erik suddenly remembered Annelise. He turned to see her already emerging from the car, utterly feminine in a flowy silk dress of rich violet and a gray cashmere coat with matching hat. Awed as always by her exquisite beauty, he offered his hand. “And this, everyone, is Annelise Christiansen, the beautiful woman I wrote you about, who has agreed to become my wife.”

  “Oh, come here, my dear, come here,” Erik’s “mother” crooned as the group surrounded Annelise and started introducing themselves.

  “Looks like Annie has found herself among friends,” Axel remarked, coming around the vehicle from the opposite side with their Nazi escort.

  At the appearance of the hated uniform, the collective exuberance dimmed a fraction.

  Erik cleared his throat. “Mom, Dad, everyone, I’d like you to meet Annelise’s brother, Axel, and Captain Franz von Rundstedt, who graciously offered us the use of his personal car today. Axel, Captain von Rundstedt, may I present my parents, Magnus and Gjerta Nielsen. Next to Annelise are my sister, Bergitte, and her husband, Svend Dinesen, along with my Aunt Lisbet and Uncle Karl Kristoffersen.”