Gift from the Sea (21 page)

As Lucie stared at her, Maggie realized that in many ways they were less mother and daughter than they were two strong-willed women in that moment. They were equals in that they were each determined to protect the man they loved.

Finally Lucie’s expression softened. “Oh, Maggie, you cannot imagine the life you are bargaining for in loving this man. He is German, and despite his noble intentions there will always be those who see him as their enemy.”

Maggie smiled. “He won me over,” she reminded her mother.

This time Lucie smiled, as well. “So he did,” she said. “Go tell Jeanne we will go into town just after lunch. She can post her letters.”

But as it turned out there was no need to go into town, for shortly before lunch there was a commotion in the yard.

“It’s Gabe,” Mama cried, racing to the door and throwing it open. She ignored the police chief and the several additional soldiers that accompanied him and threw herself into her husband’s arms.

“I’ll have to get myself arrested more often if this is to be my welcome home,” Papa joked as Lucie clung to him.

“Papa, what’s happening?” Maggie asked, taking a count of the men with him.

“There’s been a change of mind,” Papa replied with a tight smile. “Captain Swann has decided that it’s in the best interest of the government to hold all detainees in one place.”

“I don’t understand.” Lucie looked at the police chief for an explanation.

“Gabe and Tom are being detained by the military, Lucie,” Anderson explained. “Just until this whole business can be cleared up, you understand. Just a formality to keep folks from getting their noses out of joint.”

“We aided the enemy,” Gabe translated. “It’s a federal matter, not a local one. The chief has no jurisdiction.”

“But where is Tom?”

“He’s at the hospital. Captain Swann agreed that he was needed there and could be guarded while he attended his patients.”

The arrival of the captain interrupted further conversa
tion. “This way, if you please,” he said, indicating that Gabe should go with two of the soldiers.

“Where are you taking my husband?” Lucie demanded, and Maggie saw the captain blink in surprise.

“Well, ma’am, as Chief Anderson explained, he’s being detained along with the German. It’s best to hold them in the same place.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Mama argued. “Surely he can be detained with me in our own home. He’s right here should you need him for questioning or such.”

“Now, ma’am, you’ve got a point. It’s true that you are all under house arrest, but frankly it makes my job easier to have separate accommodations—the men in the cottage there and you ladies in the house.”

Lucie straightened to her full height, which was not more than an inch taller than Maggie but impressive nonetheless. “Now see here, young man,”

“Lucie, love,” Gabe interrupted, “the captain is simply following orders. Don’t make this any more difficult than it already must be for him.”

“Well, maybe that’s the problem. Maybe that’s the thing about this entire war business—people blindly following orders instead of considering what makes good sense,” she huffed.

“I’m sure President Wilson would agree, my dear,” Gabe said, stepping forward to kiss her on her forehead and pull her into a long embrace, “but unfortunately he never asked you, now did he?”

Maggie saw a whisper of a smile cross her mother’s lips. It was a long-standing joke in their family that when Lucie got riled up about something, she would rant for several
minutes and then take a deep breath and mutter, “But they didn’t ask me, did they?”

Papa held out his free arm to Maggie, pulling her into the circle of the family embrace. “Keep strong and keep faith.”

Gabe broke away from his two women, but he paused one minute longer as his gaze settled on the gold cross around Maggie’s throat. She saw the confusion that passed over his weary features—was she wearing it because of the romantic connection or, as he had hoped for months, because—

“I will pray for all of us, Papa,” she said, fingering the cross. And when she saw the relief and happiness that lit her father’s smile, she knew that she had told him what he needed to know. Further, she realized that it was the truth, for whatever the outcome of this situation, she had started down a new path and would never again start a journey without God as her guide.

As the day wore on, Maggie had never seen her mother so agitated and out of sorts. She eyed the soldiers on duty in the house with disapproval, as if each had personally affronted her in some way. For their part they tried hard to stay out of her way, accepting the food that Sarah dished up for them with a murmured thanks and downcast eyes before hurrying back to their post as they made their escape from Lucie’s accusing stare. It might have been comical had the situation not been so serious.

“Maggie, go choose some reading materials from your father’s library,” Lucie ordered the following afternoon. “And change into something besides your uniform. We are going calling.”

“But Lucie, dear,” Jeanne protested.

Lucie cut her off with a statement directed just as much to the guard at the front door as to Jeanne. “If we had per
mission to go all the way into town to visit, then surely we can make the trek across the yard without causing undue harm.”

Thirty minutes later the three women marched down the path to the cottage. Mama was dressed in her best: a pony-skin coat that featured an impressive fox collar and cuffs, a matching hat and taupe leather gloves. Underneath she wore her celery-green silk afternoon dress trimmed with a deep forest-green stain at the neckline and at each of its three tiered skirt panels. Maggie was dressed in a red wool broadcloth walking suit, with its offset row of self-covered buttons marching the length of the jacket and aligning with the straight, ankle-length skirt and its high, narrow collar, which showed off her long neck. Her hat was wide-brimmed felt and the velvet trim matched the cuffs of her suit jacket. And Jeanne topped them both in her flamboyant lime-green satin kimono coat and matching turban hat by the famous Paris designer Paul Poiret.

Maggie could not help thinking what a sight they must make as they walked in matched strides, their fashionable but serviceable leather boots hitting the shell-strewn path in unison. She saw the young soldier on duty at the front door of the cottage hurry inside. A moment later Captain Swann appeared on the porch. “Good afternoon, ladies,” he said with a cordial smile and wary eyes.

“Good afternoon, Captain,” Mama replied. “I have come to visit my husband.”

“And you?” The captain’s smile bordered on a smirk as he shifted his gaze to Maggie.

“I have come to see my father,” Maggie said.

“I’ll have to check your parcels,” Swann said, eyeing the
basket of food Mama carried and the armful of books that Maggie clutched to her chest.

“Of course,” Mama agreed and waited for the captain to step aside. “There’s a nice table in the front hall where we can set everything for you to inspect.”

The captain held open the door and then followed them inside. Maggie followed her mother’s example and set the stack of books next to the basket on the table, then Lucie pulled off her gloves and removed her hat as if preparing for a long stay. Maggie and Jeanne followed her example.

Maggie glanced toward the first-floor bedroom where she had nursed Stefan. The door was open and the room unoccupied. A footstep above drew her attention up the stairway, where she saw a guard seated outside George’s former room.

“Twin beds in that room plus a cot. A bit crowded perhaps but secure. Also it’s on the second floor,” the captain said quietly, following her gaze as he fanned each book to make sure there were no hidden weapons or messages.

“Very wise,” Mama said and went directly into the parlor. “Maggie, perhaps you could light the fire here while I make us some tea and lay out the cookies Sarah made.”

Jeanne indicated a chair near the fireplace. “Captain, you will be joining us, I assume.”

Swann seemed momentarily nonplussed. “I had thought a few moments would suffice, ladies.”

“Surely matters are not so dire that we can’t make use of the parlor,” Jeanne replied as Maggie bent to light the fire.

Jeanne relieved the captain of the books he still held. “Perhaps you would enjoy reading one of these in the evenings, Captain. After all, your prisoners can hardly read
more than one at a time and it must be, well, a bit boring just sitting here for hours on end.”

“That’s very kind of you, ma’am.”

Maggie replaced the bellows and turned her most radiant smile on the captain. “It is you who have shown kindness, Captain, by allowing our visit. Shall I call for the guard to bring my father and Mr. Witte?”

“I thought you came to see your father?”

“Indeed, but it seems cruel to sit here with him when Mr. Witte has no family to visit him. Surely the Christian thing to do would be to include him?”

Swann scowled at her but stepped to the door and signaled to the guard at the top of the stairs. “Get them down here,” he ordered. “Half an hour,” he told Maggie and Jeanne, “and I’ll be right here.”

“We wouldn’t have it any other way,” Maggie assured him as her mother arrived with a tray set with tea for seven. “Shall I pour, Mama?”

Maggie heard multiple footfalls coming down the stairs. She resisted the urge to run to Stefan, to examine his face for any signs of mistreatment, but instead forced herself to take a seat near the tea tray, prepared to serve the others.

Mama had no such reservations as she ran to Papa the moment she saw him and wrapped herself in his embrace as if it had been months, not hours, since she last saw him. “Are you all right?” she asked.

Papa laughed and kissed her. “Other than missing you, I am fine. Our young friend here, however, may be a bit worse for the time he’s spent sharing a room with me.” He kept his arm around Lucie’s waist as he led her to the settee. Maggie couldn’t help feeling envious that the others had such freedom to express their true feelings.

She risked a glance at Stefan and looked just as quickly away when she saw Captain Swann watching her. But oh, how Stefan’s eyes had glowed with his love for her. “Sugar, Captain?” she asked as she poured the first cup of tea.

“Three,” he replied and declined both milk and lemon as he accepted the cup and saucer from her. “Well, sit down, Witte,” he commanded as he took the chair across from Maggie, leaving only a straight-backed side chair next to her for Stefan.

He was so near that she could have moved her knee no more than six inches and touched his. Her hand shook as she poured another cup of tea and prepared it for her father.

“We brought you reading materials,” Mama told him as she relieved Maggie of the teacup and passed it to her husband. “Maggie, get the books, please. We didn’t know what to choose, so if there’s anything you’d rather have, we can bring that when we visit this evening.”

Swann’s eyebrows shot up. “Now, ma’am,” he began.

“Oh, come now, Captain,” Mama replied. “The situation we all find ourselves in is unique. Surely there is no need to make matters worse than they already are—for my husband or for you. Have a cookie, Captain.” She passed him the plate while Maggie handed her father the stack of books.

“Ah, Tennyson,” Papa said, cradling the slim leather volume. “My favorite. Have you read the poet, Captain?”

Swann chewed the cookie slowly as he considered the situation. “Yes, sir,” he replied. “‘The Charge of the Light Brigade’ inspired me to join the military when I was still in school.”

“Really?” Gabe leaned forward as he continued to pepper the captain with questions about the poem, about his schooling and about his family.

When the clock chimed three, Swann looked up in surprise. The cookies were gone, and he had lost all track of the time. He leaped to his feet and cleared his throat. “That’s enough,” he said sternly. “Private,” he called in the direction of the hall, “escort the prisoners to their quarters.”

Once again Gabe embraced Lucie and then held out his arms to Maggie. “You may want to look at the book by Morse,” he said as he released her. “I think you would enjoy it.”

Maggie was mystified at this strange parting message. “I’ll look for it,” she replied, searching her father’s expression for any further clue. But Papa only smiled. “Gentlemen,” he said, as if he were in his own house and inviting his special guests to retire to his study and join him in a cigar.

“We’ll see you this evening,” Mama promised, clasping Stefan’s hand between hers as he passed.

“Tomorrow,” Swann corrected her. “I’m not running a social club here, ma’am.”

“Let the man do his duty, Lucie,” Papa said as he caressed Mama’s cheek.

Mama’s lips thinned but she nodded. “Tomorrow. I’ll ask Sarah to make that chocolate cake you love so much.”

The minute Maggie got back to the house, she ran to her father’s library and scanned the shelves for books by Morse. The only volume she found was an instructional guide to learning Morse code. What is he thinking? she wondered and took the book to her mother.

To her surprise Mama laughed.

“Your father has always been a romantic,” she said. “He inherited it from his father. Your grandfather served in the Union Navy during the Civil War.”