Two Crosses (59 page)

“I wish I had something for you—” she began, but he put a finger to her lips.

“Don’t say it. Do you think I will forget you, beautiful Gabby? I have the Book you gave me. And now I have the cross. It’s all I need.”

His hand was on her shoulder as he looked down at her, his black eyes soft. “I will never forget all you have shared with me. Never.”

She didn’t like the way he said
never
. “You are coming back, aren’t you? You won’t be gone too long?”

He touched her face, brushing her cheek with his fingers. “I’ll be back. Pray for me, Gabby. I’ll come back.” He fumbled with the lock on his briefcase. “I forgot to give this to you. I was going to mail it from Marseille, but since you’re here—” He held out a white envelope. “Your exam,” he said with a wink. “You did very well, my dear.”

He pulled her to him once more and kissed her for a long moment. “I have to say good-bye now, Gabby.”

They held hands and crossed back toward the bus stop. The number 11 bus was slowly crawling up the street.

“Good-bye, David.” Her voice was choked with emotion. “I love you.”

When he looked back, he seemed poised forever on the step of the bus, his dark eyes studying her, his good arm holding his black leather suitcase and briefcase. He set the luggage down and waved once. He boarded the bus, the doors closed, and he was gone.

Yvette and Monique watched the young couple’s good-bye from the window of Monique’s apartment.

“
Ooh là là.
Young love is
difficile
.” Yvette sighed, shaking her head.

“
Triste, oui, mais alors!
It is a beautiful story. They must be strong and brave. If fate and
le bon Dieu
are on their side,
alors
all will turn out fine,” Monique reassured her friend.

“The good Lord, yes. Surely He is with them. And who knows? There may be a wedding yet, one of these days.”

Monique rolled her eyes and picked up a potato to peel. “You never know. Life is full of surprises,
n’est-ce pas
?”

Gabriella didn’t walk back to St. Joseph immediately. She followed the road past Mme Leclerc’s and out toward the countryside. She remembered the time she had strolled this way with David in early December after their friendship had been reconciled. The vines had been naked then, but now tiny sprouts of green were appearing on the twisted branches.

She ripped open the envelope and removed four folded sheets of paper. They rustled in the breeze, and she looked down to read them, but her eyes were blurred. She wiped the tears away.

Across the top of the exam David had scribbled
Excellent work, Mlle Madison
. There was no grade. She felt an edgy disappointment. It looked as if he had made no other comment on the exam. She had hoped for a word, another phrase. Something she could keep from him.

Turning to the last page, she saw something written at the very bottom.

I’m sitting in this hospital bed, barely able to write, and thinking of you, Gabby. When you wonder, when you begin to question, read this exam again and know that I meant every word.

Je t’aime,

David

Gabriella touched the words with her hand, then held the pages to her breast. She gazed out into the distance and said, with a soft confidence in her voice, “The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.”

Far across the field she saw a lone poppy quiver in the early spring breeze, bending back and forth, holding its bright-red face to the sun.

… a little more …

When a delightful concert comes to an end,

the orchestra might offer an encore.

When a fine meal comes to an end,

it’s always nice to savor a bit of dessert.

When a great story comes to an end,

we think you may want to linger.

And so, we offer ...

AfterWords—
just a little something more after you

have finished a David C Cook novel.

We invite you to stay awhile in the story.

Thanks for reading!

Turn the page for ...

• A Historical Note about the Huguenot Cross

• The Opening Scenes from
Two Testaments
, the Sequel to
Two Crosses
, available now!

• About the Author

The Huguenot Cross

Protestantism began in France in the midsixteenth century. The first French Protestants were called Huguenots. Despite almost continual persecution from the Catholic Church and the kings of France, the Huguenots grew in number and influence. In 1598, Henri IV granted them religious freedom under the Edict of Nantes. However, in 1685, Louis XIV revoked the edict. The ensuing persecution forced hundreds of thousands of Huguenots to flee to England, Ireland, Scotland, Holland, Germany, Switzerland, Russia, and North America. Many thousands who remained in France were martyred for their faith.

The Huguenot cross is believed to have been created by a goldsmith in Nîmes around the year 1688. It was crafted in the form of a Maltese cross and strongly resembled the military decoration called the Medal of the Order of the Holy Spirit, created in the late sixteenth century by Henri III as a military distinction for excellent warriors.

The Huguenot cross comes in many different forms today. Originally it was made up of four equal, thick branches, each branch in the form of an arrow turned inward, with two little “balls” on the outer points of each arrow. Four fleurs-de-lis were embedded in between the branches of the cross, and a dove, symbolizing the Holy Spirit, hung with its head turned downward from the lowest branch.

The cross is popular among Protestants in France today.

Opening Scenes from
Two Testaments

March 1962

Castelnau, France

Poppies were springing up in the fields beyond Castelnau like bright-red drops of blood staining the countryside. Seeing the flowers, Gabriella Madison took a deep breath. Lifeblood and hope eternal.

She closed her eyes and felt a stinging sensation inside her chest. Poppies reminded her of David. And poppies reminded David of her. But now he was in Algeria, perhaps already in the company of Ophélie’s mother, Anne-Marie. How Gabriella wished he were standing here beside her instead.

Ophélie’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Bribri, do you think it will be today that Papa and Mama get back?”

Gabriella shook her head, her red hair glistening like sun on the river. “Not today, Ophélie. But very soon.”

Were they even now laughing together, reliving old times, catching up on seven lost years? Was David explaining what had been happening here in lazy Castelnau? Had he even mentioned her name to Anne-Marie?

They had been walking, Gabriella and a whole troop of children, toward the edge of Castelnau, where the village fanned out into farmland and vineyards. The children trailed behind their young
maîtresse
in pairs, holding hands and chattering excitedly. Gabriella glanced back to see Sister Rosaline, red faced and out of breath, waving from the end of the line.

“All here,” the nun called out happily in her singsong French. “All forty-three.”

Gabriella waved back, smiling at the children. “Do you want to go a little farther? We’re almost to the park.”

A chorus of
Oui, Maîtresse
sang back to her, so they proceeded down a narrow dirt road into a grassy sanctuary enclosed by tall cypress trees. At the far end of the field were several seesaws, some monkey bars, and an old swing set.

This walk outside the orphanage had become a daily ritual after lunch, weather permitting. Mother Griolet had hesitated at first. What if people began to question? After all, the population of the orphanage had doubled in a few short months. But Gabriella and Sister Rosaline had insisted. The new arrivals were loud, afraid, and restless. Together the children acted like pent-up animals, and they needed to be uncaged in a space larger than the courtyard inside St. Joseph.