Shadowed by Grace (7 page)

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 slept 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.

“Snap out of it, Lindstrom, and get your head back in your task.” DeWald’s stare bored through Scott. “Lucky for you here comes the solution to your problems.” The head of the MFAA’s small band of men in Italy inclined his head toward a private on the other side of the room.

The man saluted when he reached them. “Rumor has it you need wheels, Lieutenant.”

Scott eyed the soldier in front of him. “I do.”

“And I have a jeep and orders to transport you.”

“Why?”

“Someone wants to keep your sorry carcass alive. Maybe they’re tired of your bellyaching. All I know is I have orders and the keys.” The man’s posture matched the arrogant tone of his words. DeWald hid a smirk behind his hand.

“Have a name, soldier?”

“Private Tyler Salmon. Sir.”

With the attitude and sneer, Scott could understand why DeWald would think it a great idea to dump a problem soldier in his lap. Scott couldn’t turn down a jeep when days could pass before another came his way. He hadn’t seen even a spare carburetor floating around, let alone a full vehicle. Supplies hadn’t been too happy after the one he’d used came back with dents and squirrelly alignment thanks to his foray into the countryside. “Your orders?”

The man eyed him from beneath overlong chestnut hair and reached into his inside jacket pocket, yanked them out, and plopped them on the desk.

Scott scanned them. Looked authentic. “All right. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

“What do you want me to do now?”

“Roust up extra petrol. Once we’re out of Naples, getting more is next to impossible. I’d like to make it back.”

“Unlike last time?”

Scott stifled the urge to throttle Private Salmon. For all the ribbing he took, Scott wished he’d never let Captain Justice in his jeep. Sure he’d enjoyed the company, and she seemed to enjoy his—until the sun set and they got detained—but that had been out of his control . . . mostly. “It’s complicated.”

“War is.” The private retrieved his papers. “See ya in the a.m.”

“Be here at six.” He’d make sure they didn’t get caught at night.

“Yes, sir.” The man sauntered away.

Scott grabbed a few of the Frick maps the Army Air Force had prepared for the bombers. The maps were overloaded with landmarks but could help him identify where they needed to go. Reports had it streamlined maps were on the way, but he’d yet to see them. Navigators struggled to use the overcrowded maps as they sought to avoid monuments while hitting war targets. The current maps were bloated like everything else in the occupation forces. If something could be done in an hour, why not make it a week? With a jeep he’d make each day work for him.

After Scott spread a Frick map in front of him, he and DeWald spent the next hours comparing it to one of the Harvard Lists for the region and plotting the best approach.

Scott stood. “You want to join us? There’s room for more in the jeep.”

DeWald shook his head. “I’ve got to get this outfit appreciated. Build plans for the move north. You get out there while I get the framework in place.”

“All right.” Scott worked until his back ached from bending over the maps. The lines blurred in front of him. If he studied the pages more, he wouldn’t be able to make sense of what he saw.

He stopped by Rachel’s hotel on his way to his quarters. It was late, but he wanted to try one more time. Now that he had a jeep and a plan, he’d like her to rejoin him. He wandered around the lobby and small restaurant. He just decided he’d wasted enough time when he spotted her dark hair topped with her military cap. An oversized book sat in her lap, and she looked a thousand miles away.

“You’re alive.”

Rachel jerked to attention, the book sliding on her skirt before she caught it. “Lieutenant.”

He’d hoped for a bit more warmth in her voice. “I haven’t seen you in days. You disappeared.”

She brushed a hand across the cover and sighed. “It wasn’t my intent. I got a new assignment when we returned. Taking photos of refugees.” She shrugged as she looked at him for the first time. “I thought the press office would inform you.”