The Rules in Rome (35 page)

He reached for the letters, and she pulled them away. She felt a little guilty taking advantage of his limited mobility, but she was desperate to extend her time with him or at the very least learn his address so she could track him down in Virginia.

“Gracie, give me my letters.”

She flipped through them, looking at the postmarks—the oldest had been mailed last August. She felt a flash of pain for Bastien—he’d been out of touch with his family for almost a year. “Why didn’t Colonel Ambrose bring these when we met in Switzerland?”

“Colonel Ambrose isn’t very sentimental, is he?”

She snorted. “No. He didn’t even tell me about your leg. And I’ve been pestering him daily—Captain Vaughn-Harris anyway—to get permission to see you, and he keeps brushing me off.”

Bastien crossed his arms again. “You needed permission from Vaughn-Harris?”

“I thought it would help. The nurses won’t let anyone visit you. Didn’t you know?”

His face slackened, and his lips parted slightly as he shook his head no.

“You mumble in your sleep when you’re medicated. I guess they’re afraid you’ll reveal something you shouldn’t. I told the nurses and Captain Vaughn-Harris that I preferred to see you awake anyway, but the nurses wouldn’t budge, Captain Vaughn-Harris was probably turning me down out of spite,
and Colonel Ambrose wouldn’t listen. A hospital visit isn’t going to help win the war, so why should he bother?”

“Am I allowed visitors now?”

Gracie glanced at the door. “No.”

“Then how are you here?”

“One of the Red Cross ladies felt sorry for me and looked the other way so I could sneak back.”

Bastien smiled. “Gracie Begni, you’re breaking all sorts of rules today. Disobeying the nurses, committing mail crimes. Next thing I know, you’ll be bringing me a beer and splitting it with me.”

“Do you drink? I never saw you take so much as a sip, and the alcohol in your hotel room was never opened until I gave some to the doctor. Good thing I did. I think it helped him forget the English words you mumbled last time you were on morphine. That and a night full of casualties from the Via Rasella.”

“What? When was I mumbling in English?”

“After you were shot. Heinie had just left, and the doctor was changing your bandages. You said ‘Gracie shouldn’t be here,’ and I suppose I thought if I was on your mind then, maybe I meant something more to you than just someone who operated the radio.” He didn’t respond, so she randomly picked one of the envelopes she still held and pulled out the letter. A piece of newspaper came with it, and when she unfolded the clipping she realized it was a wedding announcement. The headline read
Harold Carson to marry Stefanie Ley.
“Your sister?”

He nodded and reached for his letters. “Give them back, please.”

She handed him the letters but kept the clipping. The young couple looked happy, and Stefanie looked a bit like Bastien.
Harold Carson, son of Robert and Susan Carson of Manassa, CO, will wed Stefanie Ley, daughter of Ursula and the
late Friedrich Ley of Fairfax, VA. The couple met while Petty Officer Carson, US Navy, was stationed in Washington, DC, and will wed on March 17 in the Salt Lake Temple . . .

The announcement went on, but Gracie stopped reading and stared at Bastien, shocked. “Your sister is a good little Mormon girl, and she’s marrying—” Gracie checked the date. “And she
married
a good little Mormon boy in the Salt Lake Temple?”

Bastien’s lips turned up ever so slightly. “Yes.”

Gracie had trouble controlling her breathing, a swirl of possibilities suddenly spinning around in her head. “Is . . . is she the only member of the Church in your family?”

“No.”

She tried to hold back the burgeoning hope that was quickly forming. Having Bastien share all of her beliefs was too good to be true. But he only used alcohol when he was disinfecting cuts, he didn’t smoke, and she’d never even seen him drink coffee. Could it be because he followed the Mormon health code? He believed in an afterlife, his family was the most important thing in the world to him, and he knew scripture stories from
the Book of Mormon. Was it possible? “Your two years in Switzerland—not with the military?”

“A Church mission.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered.

“What, and have you making self-righteous judgments the entire operation about what I was doing in regard to our shared standards?” He paused, looking at the blanket. “Only you aren’t self-righteous; I just thought
you would be. And then I thought telling you would complicate things.”

“How would my knowing more about your religious beliefs complicate things?”

Bastien still wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I guess I thought it would be easier—for both of us—if we knew our relationship would end with our assignment. Our job was supposed to be our top priority, not each other.”

“But you came for me when you should have left with your report. Why?”

He ran his fingers along the blanket, hesitating. “I didn’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t try to help you. And I guess I wasn’t sure where the line was between how you felt and how you were acting . . . But then I woke up here, alone, without my leg. For some reason, I thought you’d be waiting when I woke, but you weren’t. I still thought you’d come, but days went by, and I didn’t see you, and Colonel Ambrose said you were only hospitalized for a day. And then I realized I was wrong to hope that maybe some of your feelings for me went deeper than our assignment.”

Gracie reached out and put her hand on his. “I wanted to come. I tried to come.”

Bastien lifted his hand so their palms touched and their fingers tangled together. They’d shared more kisses than she could count, but they’d never held hands. Gracie didn’t ever want to let go.

“What would you have said if I had been here when you woke up?” she asked. “Would you have told me to go away and forget all about you?”

Bastien shook his head. “I would have asked you to forgive me for being so rude during most of the assignment, and I would have asked if we could try it again, without any pretending.”

“And when I didn’t come, you thought I didn’t love you, and you changed your mind?”

His voice was quiet. “It wasn’t just that you didn’t come. The more I thought about my leg, the more I realized it would be unfair to ask, no matter how I feel. You deserve someone who’s whole, and I’m damaged.”

“I don’t care about that.”

Bastien sighed. “This isn’t like the last time when I was out for a few weeks and made a full recovery. This isn’t going away.”

“Then let me help.”

“Gracie, since I was little, I’ve been terrified of two things: fire and being permanently crippled. I’m not going to drag you through the nightmare I woke up to. You deserve better than that.”

Her heart ached at the desperation in his voice. “You don’t have to face this alone, Bastien. We can do it together, just like we managed curfew parties and jail breaks and crossword puzzles and DKWs. I’m just the right height when you need help learning to walk again, and we’ve been through hard things before.” Gracie swallowed back a sob. “I can’t believe you never felt anything in those kisses you gave me.”

“It’s not that I don’t care for you, Gracie. The truth is I fell in love with you a long time ago. But I’m not sure I can make you happy.”

Gracie glanced at their hands, threaded together, then back at his face. “Bastien, you’re the good man I’ve always looked for, and you’re the hero I fell in love with, all rolled into one. Even if you are missing part of a leg, you’re more than I ever hoped for, and I love you.”

His hold on her hand tightened, and he stared at her for a long time, his face showing a myriad of emotions before he finally spoke. “Then maybe we do have a future together.”

Gracie took a deep breath—one of relief and hope and joy. “Good, because I’m not sure what I’d do without you.”

Bastien smiled, the gloominess in his face finally gone.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway. Gracie turned in panic, but whoever it was must have gone into the room across the hall.

Bastien was frowning when she turned back to him. “I guess you’ll have to say good-bye soon.”

“We’ll see each other again before long.”

“I know, but now that I’ve stopped battling my heart, I’m not sure I want to say good-bye. At least not yet.” He glanced pointedly from her eyes to her mouth.

Gracie stood and leaned over him, meeting his familiar lips for a long, slow kiss. She’d missed his kisses, and this one was better than any of the others because she knew he wasn’t pretending. It was deep and sweet, and she knew more than ever that they belonged together. Every inch of her skin tingled with delight as his mouth moved with hers and his fingers caressed her neck and face. A powerful connection had overwhelmed her during their first kiss, and now it was stronger, cemented by their time in Rome. She felt blissfully happy, in a way she hadn’t known was possible.

Then the door crashed open, and the head nurse started yelling at her. “What are you doing here? I told you Captain Ley isn’t allowed visitors. Out! Now!”

Gracie pulled away, but Bastien wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, kissing her mouth again for a few hungry moments.

“If you don’t leave, I’ll call security.”

Bastien relaxed his arms and ended his kiss, but as Gracie moved to face the nurse, he whispered in her ear. “I love you, Gracie.”

“I love you too,” she said as the nurse tried to shoo her from the room.

“Gracie?” he asked when she reached the doorway.

“Yes?”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get down on my knees—knee—to ask you to marry me. Would you consider a proposal from someone who can’t kneel?”

She smiled. “Yes.”

“What about from someone in a hospital bed?”

Ignoring the evil look from the nurse, Gracie let her smile turn into a grin. She nodded.

“Will you marry me, Gracie?”

The nurse called to a military policeman, and Gracie wondered what Vaughn-Harris had said to make the hospital staff so intent on keeping Ley alone. Gracie’s visit, like her life up to that point, hadn’t gone exactly as planned. It was turning out much better. She looked at Bastien’s face. She loved that face, loved him, loved the mix of hope and uncertainty in his eyes. He had a rough road ahead of him, adjusting to life without a leg and moving past his memories of war. She wanted to help him with every inch of his journey. She smiled and wondered why she was crying when she was happier than she’d ever been before.

“Gracie?”

She laughed, realizing she still hadn’t answered him, and then she said, “Yes.”

Dear Captain Vaughn-Harris
,

I’m writing this letter for two reasons. First, I have to confess to lying to you. When you came to visit me just before I sailed home, I told you I never wanted to see Agent Begni again and couldn’t think of anything worse than being on the same ship with her all the way across the Atlantic. My real feelings were opposite of what I said, which brings me to the second reason for writing this letter.

I owe you my hearty thanks. Thank you for pulling strings and calling in favors to ensure that Gracie and I were on the same ship for our journey home. In a peaceful world, Gracie and I would have preferred to get married in Utah, but given Gracie’s demanding work schedule, my uncertain health, and wartime curtailment of travel, we didn’t see how we could make it across the country to a temple anytime soon, probably not until the end of the war. The war might be over in four months, or it could stretch on another four years, so we decided not to wait. A chaplain married us before we left port, I managed to arrange a private cabin, and the voyage back to the United States was our honeymoon. Even though I’m missing a leg, I’ve never been happier. I don’t suppose we’ll ever want to see each other again, but please know that when I think of you, I will smile in gratitude.

Regards,

Captain Ley

This book started with the
vague concept of two agents trying very hard not to fall in love with each other, mixed in with some cool motorcycle scenes. When I started planning the
where
and the
why
, I thought Rome before the Allied liberation would be a great place for a pair of American spies. Allied intelligence had the same idea, only they had it seventy years before I did. Though the specific information Bastien and Gracie provide the Allies was made to fit this story, there were several real OSS agents in Rome in the spring of 1944 and many Italian nationals working for their country’s liberation. Otavia and Angelo are fictional, representing examples of the real Italians who worked against the Nazis. Throughout the book,
partisan
is used as a general term for armed resisters, as opposed to the word’s use in Yugoslavia (and in my last novel,
Deadly Alliance
), where
partisan
refers to a member of a specific guerilla group.

Bastien’s opinion of Allied leadership on the Anzio beachhead is perhaps overly harsh. Most historians today conclude that there simply weren’t enough men to be effective at Anzio, but Bastien’s condemnation was mirrored by contemporary intelligence officers and frontline soldiers.

Prior to the offensive in spring 1944 that culminated in Rome’s liberation, rumors circulated that the Allies had given up taking Rome from the south and were planning another amphibious landing north of Rome, near Civitavecchia. This deception, planned by the Allies, helped keep German forces spread out while the British, Americans, and other Allies massed enough manpower for successful breakthroughs through the Gustav Line and past the Anzio beachhead.

Descriptions of civilian life in occupied Rome are accurate, including the dirt, the hunger, the huge roundups, and the commonplace torture at both the Via Tasso and the Regina Coeli. The water supply in Rome at that time was inconsistent, affecting fountains and drinking water. It’s also true that for a small percentage of the population, luxury and curfew parties were the norm until the German evacuation.

In the spring of 1944, a pregnant woman named Teresa Gullace was shot dead by a German soldier while she tried to throw a package of food to her husband, who was locked in a train as part of the large March 1 roundup of seven hundred Italian men for forced labor. She left behind five children. While Otavia is a fictional character, I felt her story showed how even those most deserving of mercy were often denied it during the harsh occupation.

The various German defensive lines mentioned in the book are factual, as are events such as the Gappisti attack at the Via Rasella and the subsequent massacre at the Ardeatine Caves. Though the Via Rasella bomb was hidden in a garbage can, those investigating immediately after the explosion assumed it was dropped from a window or rooftop. General Mälzer did order the block destroyed, but fortunately for the rounded-up Italian civilians, the orders were changed. Zimmerman’s participation in the events is fictional, of course, but the methods and inner justifications he used as he assembled his list of victims is in line with what actually happened. Readers may have noticed that the number of victims killed in the Ardeatine Caves is first stated to be three hundred thirty, then three hundred thirty-five. Due to a miscount, five extra men were executed.

Differing accounts of the Via Rasella attack and the Ardeatine Caves massacre give conflicting details. In this novel, I chose to go with the time line Robert Katz described in
The Battle for Rome
, but other accounts place the demolition of the cave entrance by German engineers days later instead of immediately after the executions. There is also conflicting information about when the final Bozen SS troops died of their wounds and how many civilians were killed in the blast on the Via Rasella.

OSS employed many women during WWII. Most of them didn’t work behind enemy lines, and of those who did, most were residents of the occupied countries. Women like Gracie, Americans citizens sent into the field, were rare but not unheard of. Though Gracie’s story isn’t based on the work of any one agent, there are parallels between her and the real-life tale of Noor Inayat Khan, a British SOE agent ruled unsuitable for espionage but sent to France anyway because she spoke the language and SOE was desperate for wireless operators.

At 11:00 p.m. on March 30, 1944, members of the 36
th
Infantry Division, a Texan National Guard unit, set out for Mount Artemisio. Before
dawn, they had surrounded Velletri, and the Caesar Line that had held the Allied Armies on the beach at Anzio was finally breached. Gracie meeting an advanced patrol on the night of May 30/31 has her running into the Allied line at the earliest possible time.

The Americans were in Rome on June 4, but most of the German forces
they fought were able to retreat, regroup, and fight on for almost a year. Most historians agree with Bastien’s conclusion that more of the German Army could have been captured with better Allied strategy.