Rhineland Inheritance (17 page)

On her face was the same look of unguarded tenderness she had had when speaking of her dead fiance. A flame rose unbidden within Jake, one so strong it threatened to turn his heart to cinders. There was no defense against this fire. Nowhere to run, no way to escape, not without pushing this woman from his life entirely. And that he could not do. Not even with logic whispering endlessly in his mind, she is not for you, not for you, not for you.

Jake watched her, wanted her, and wondered if there was even a chance, the slenderest of threads, that he might take the place of a man who was no more.

He feared her answer as he feared the pain of having her
catch sight of him, and watching the tender expression disappear. As quietly as he could, Jake started back out the door.

“Jake?”

Reluctantly he turned back. Sally was already standing and walking forward, smiling and happy to see him. At the sight of her shining eyes, he felt as if a knife were being turned in his stomach.

“Are you off for your talk?” she asked. “Where do you have to go?”

“Freudenstadt.”

“I wish I could hear you speak again,” she said with real feeling. “But three of the kids are not well, and Harry promised to stop by later.”

“I understand,” he said quietly.

She searched his face. “What's the matter, Jake?”

The simple fact of her calling him by his name was almost too much to bear. He inspected the ground at his feet and said softly, “I have to go.”

She didn't answer. Her silence lifted his gaze. He found her watching him with the stillness of a frightened forest creature. Jake did not stop to think, or wonder, or hope. His desire was too great.

He bent and kissed her.

A chorus of high-pitched giggles separated them. Sally managed a shaky smile. “We've got company.”

Jake nodded, not trusting his voice just then. He caressed her cheek, then turned and left the créche.

****

Later that evening Jake knocked on the door of the chaplain's room. “Mind a little company?”

“Good grief, no. Come in, Jake, come in.” The chaplain beckoned Jake forward. “How on earth they expect me to sleep so much is beyond me.”

“I can't stay long,” Jake said, drawing up a chair. “Pierre's waiting for me downstairs.”

“Nothing could help pass the time better than a chance to be of use to somebody,” Chaplain Fox said. “What's on your mind?”

Jake recounted the discussion with Colonel Beecham and the others. “I'm beginning to think there really may be something to all this. And it's got me wondering. I kept thinking about all those kids, and what they've got to look forward to, growing up in a place like this.”

But Chaplain Fox did not reply directly. Instead, he watched Jake for a long moment. “Is that the only thing that's bothering you?” he asked.

Jake sighed and examined his hands in his lap. He shook his head.

“Is it Sally?”

A nod this time.

“Do you love her, Jake?”

Another nod.

The chaplain leaned back and said to the ceiling, “Sally is a wonderful girl. She has so much going for her—gorgeous looks, a wonderful smile, brains, a good heart.”

“I know,” Jake said quietly.

“But she still has not come to terms with her past, Jake. You know that as well as I do. She holds on to her pain, and do you know why?”

“She's still in love with him,” Jake replied.

“Of course she is. She will love him until the day she dies. But that doesn't mean that she has to stop living, not unless she chooses to.”

“Are you sure you should be telling me this?” Jake asked.

“Sally and I have often spoken this way. I'm quite sure she would agree to my sharing it with you, and if not, then it's my fault, not yours. No, our dear Sally is frightened, Jake. She has loved and lost, and the pain has seared her deeply. I believe that she sees in you the opportunity to love again, and is terrified.”

“Scared of me? I'd never do anything to hurt her.”

“Not willingly, no. But you're a strong man, Jake. A man of action. A man of power. She is both attracted to you and desperately afraid that you will take some risk, make some wild and dangerous step that will take you away from her.” He watched Jake's reaction. “Do you see what I am saying?”

Jake nodded slowly. “She pushes me away so completely that I think maybe it would be better for both of us if I stopped trying.”

“Safer, perhaps, but not better. Not for her, in any case. I have no fear for you, Jake. None at all. You will weather this storm. But Sally may not. Beneath that rough exterior is a sad and lonely young woman. I think she needs you, Jake. More than she realizes.”

“I wish it were true.”

“I'm fairly certain that it is,” Chaplain Fox replied. “I fear that if she succeeds in pushing you away, she will return home and find what she thinks she needs. A safe man, one who never takes any risks whatsoever. Someone who always wears a hat when it's raining, who does everything by the book, who wants nothing more than to live a life of domestic tranquility. Sally is not that sort of girl, no matter how much she might try to convince herself otherwise. You've seen how she is, Jake. You know. She would be smothered by such an existence. Something of the nervous beauty we both admire in her would be extinguished. I fear the fire and depth within Sally would simply fade away.”

Jake ran his hands over his face. “I wish I knew what to do.”

“Be strong,” Chaplain Fox replied. “Do you have a Bible?”

“Somewhere.”

“I suggest you take it out and read it. Study the words of other wise men, men of strength who also loved God. Read about men and women who found the ability to withstand adversity by placing their trust in Him. Start with Proverbs, then the first book of Kings, some of the Psalms, the gospel of John, then the letter to the Romans.”

“And then report back to you in the morning, right?”

Chaplain Fox smiled. “Ask the Lord to guide you. Not to gain what you want, though. You need to understand from the very outset, Jake, that He is not some bellboy, at your beck and call. Ask Him to
guide
you. Ask Him to show you how you can serve Him and so come to know your full potential, your true destiny. For that glorious completeness can only come to those who have given their lives to Christ.”

“That's a big step,” he murmured.

“The fact that you see it that way is a good sign,” Chaplain Fox replied. “Whether or not this will bring the answer you hope for, I cannot say. That will depend on Sally's own reaction, and whether or not she, too, is willing to look honestly at herself. But whatever happens, Jake, you will know peace. That I can promise you from the depths of my own experience. You will know peace, and you will know the certainty of His glorious presence in your life.”

Chapter Sixteen

Jake did not like mornings. Given the choice, he would have preferred to begin his days around noon. A slow, gradual rise to consciousness, followed by a cup of good strong coffee taken on the back stoop. Preferably alone. Jake saw no earthly reason to include other people too soon. His motor took a while to warm up.

Which was why, when the soldier standing guard duty pounded on their door, Jake could only manage a moan.

“Captain Burnes. Sorry to bother you, but you've got visitors, sir.”

To Jake's befuddled mind, the soldier did not sound sorry at all. In fact, it sounded distinctly as if he had spent much of the night searching for just such an excuse to go out and bother somebody. After all, if he had to stay awake for guard duty, why should anybody else have a decent night's sleep?

Jake groped around, then realized that his gun was in his locker. Too far to lunge.

“Sir, are you there?”

Jake tasted the roof of his mouth and wondered why it had the distinct flavor of boot leather. He croaked, “Tell 'em to come back in the morning.”

“It is morning, sir.”

“Wha' time is it?”

“Just gone five, sir.”

Jake groaned again.

“Sir, it's some kids. I think you'll want to see them.”

Jake found the strength to open one eye. He sought out Pierre's bunk. No help there. Gentle snores emanated from beneath his friend's blanket. “You got any java in the guardhouse?”

“Just the dregs, sir. The pot's been cooking all night. It'll
look like tar and taste like, well, I personally wouldn't give it to my dog, sir.”

“Sounds about right,” Jake said, fumbling for his pants. “Go get me a cup.”

The corporal came trotting back just as Jake pushed through the door. “Here you go, sir. Don't say I didn't warn you.”

Jake took a slug, and shuddered as the tarry black liquid slid down and lit a fire in his belly. “This had better be good, Corporal.”

“Sir, these kids showed up about an hour ago,” the corporal replied, scampering alongside Jake. “I recognized a couple of them from the infirmary—I put in some hours helping out there. I was afraid if they stood out there much longer we'd have to put them back in there again. I tried to shoo them off, but they'd just back off a pace and say, ‘Kapitän Burnes.' Like that. I don't speak Kraut, so there wasn't a whole lot else I could find out.”

“How many are there?”

“Three up by the gate, some more back by the treeline, I'd guess somewhere around two dozen.” The corporal cast him a worried glance. “Hope I did right, waking you up, sir.”

“You did fine, Corporal.” Jake handed him the empty cup as they rounded the corner and arrived at the main gates.

The camp was enveloped by the utter dark of night's final hour, save for the searchlights reaching from each guard tower. The lights flanking the main gates were trained on a trio of boys wrapped in blankets and oversized greatcoats and stomping their feet to ward off the heavy chill.

“All right, Corporal,” Jake said. “Open the gates.”

“Sir, Sergeant Morrows explicitly ordered us not to allow either you or Captain Servais to go anywhere outside the camp without an armed escort.” When he saw that Jake was about to protest, he pleaded, “Please, sir. If Sarge hears I let you go out there alone he'll have me on spud detail from now 'til kingdom come.”

“All right, soldier,” Jake relented. “Just stay back a few steps. These boys are very—” He searched for the right word, but could only come up with, “shy.”

At the sound of Jake's voice, Karl had become fully alert. When the gates were pulled back and Jake walked through, he said, “Tell them to redirect those blasted lights.”

“But, sir—”

“Play them out beyond us,” Jake commanded. “And don't worry. With those kids in the trees nobody is about to sneak up on us.”

“Okay, sir,” he said doubtfully, and called to the watchtowers.

The proximity of the light made the darkness even more complete. Karl moved farther away from the corporal, and motioned for Jake to follow. When the soldier started along behind him, Jake ordered, “Stay where you are, Corporal.”

“But, sir—”

“That's an order, soldier.”

“Yessir.” Resigned, he stepped back.

The other two boys moved up alongside, effectively blocking Karl and Jake from view. Karl cast a furtive glance around, then announced quietly in German, “I have been busy, Captain.”

“Call me Jake,” he replied, thinking that anything was better than
Fremder.
“And you shouldn't be out here. You'll just make yourself sick again.”

“No more sickness. I become strong. Every day I am better.”

Jake inspected the boy's face in the spotlight's reflected glare. “You look better. Not well, but better. You still have to take care of yourself.”

“I take care. Just as you say, Captain. I take great care.”

“Jake,” he corrected.

Karl pointed to the soldiers behind them and demanded, “Those men, they also call you Jake?”

“Captain or sir,” Jake relented.

“So. I take great care, Captain. And I do as I say.”

“You've heard something?”

“I hear much, Captain. Hear much, see much, learn much.” Karl's eyes darted once more around the camp and the encircling trees. Then he bent and opened his blanket. A dull glint of yellow flashed from around his neck. “And do more, Captain. Much more. I do what I say. I
find.
”

“Captain Burnes,” Colonel Beecham intoned, once Jake had completed his report, “I don't know whether to have you decorated or taken outside and shot.”

“Maybe you should do both,” Pierre murmured.

“The same holds true for you, Captain Servais.”

“I slept through the entire incident, Colonel.”

“That's no excuse,” the colonel barked. “And as for you, Miss Anders, either you wipe that silly smirk off your face or I'll string you up alongside these two.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Sally agreed. “Smirk dead and buried.”

Colonel Beecham scowled at the coil of gold rope piled in the center of his desk. “Now what on earth am I to do with this?”

Jake began, “My advice, sir—”

“When I want your advice I'll ask for it, Captain. No, belay that. When I ask for your advice, I order you not to give it.”

“Yessir.”

The necklace was of woven red and yellow gold thread. Each hollow in its carefully knotted length was filled with a blood-red ruby. The total weight exceeded half a pound.

“Did the boys say whether there was any more where this came from?”

Jake remained silent as ordered.

“Watch yourself, Captain. You are about a hairsbreadth from a firsthand look at the hereafter.”

“Sir,” Jake replied, “I really don't see how we can refuse Karl's offer.”

“You don't, eh.”

“Nossir.”

“All right, then.” The colonel picked up the coil and let it cascade though his grasp. “Run it by me one more time.”