Daisies Are Forever (21 page)

“American? She could help me get to Hollywood.”

“But not if she truly comes to love Josep. Then she will go to England with him. And your chance at being the next Marlene Dietrich will be lost.”

“You’re sure about this?”

“I am. I didn’t hear the entire conversation. The floor creaked and I was afraid they would find me eavesdropping. But I know what I did hear.”

“So, what does that mean?”

Kurt didn’t try to hide his enthusiasm. “Gisela can be mine.”

“You like her?” She didn’t really have to ask the question.

“I need your help. They have been spending time together, pretending to be married. I am afraid their feelings for each other will become real.”

“How am I supposed to help?” The situation could turn out well for her.

“I will work on wooing Gisela.” His blue eyes had become hard. “You pretend to like Josep. Don’t let on that we know about them. Do whatever you can think of to plant that seed of doubt in Gisela’s mind about him. If she doesn’t spend time around him, it will be easier for me to lure her.”

“You sound like you are fishing.” He didn’t come across very much like a man in love. And if he caught Gisela, she would remain in Germany.

The small clock ticked on the faded yellow kitchen wall.

“Josep and Gisela are in with the kinder now. Frau Cramer has gone for the doctor.”

Kurt’s jaw clenched. “This is just the crisis that might bring the two of them closer. We can’t allow that to happen.”

Nein, she couldn’t allow Gisela to fall for him.

“I will do what I can.”

Gisela and Mitch sat on the bed beside each other, the girls sleeping. Their breathing appeared to be deep and even, but she didn’t dare relax. Not until they bounded from under the sheets and came to hug her legs.

“I’m scared,” she whispered, not wanting to wake them, not wanting them to hear her trepidation.

“I know.” Mitch’s voice was as soft.

“What if I have to tell their mother . . . ?” The thought turned her stomach.

“You won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“They have colds. Nothing more. The trip tired them. They won’t die or anything.”

“And you pretend to know the mind of God?”

“No. But I trust Him.”

Gisela wiped a stray hair from her eyes. “I want to believe. To trust. But what if God is punishing me for leaving Heide and Lotta?”

“Who are they?”

Though unable to put back the words that had come uncorked, Gisela slapped her hand to her mouth. Her legs trembled.

He caressed the back of her hand. “You can tell me.”

“I would rather not.”

“Who are they?”

Gisela stared at the worn toe of her brown oxfords. “My cousins. The ones I left in East Prussia.”

“I thought you only had the one cousin—Ella.”

“Before I went to live with Ella, I stayed with my aunt and two younger cousins, Heide and Lotta, in Goldap. It was supposed to be a German stronghold and Mutti and Vater thought I would be safe there.” Still the screams echoed in her head. She would never be rid of those sounds.

“The Russians came last October. I ran away. Heide, Lotta, and my aunt did not.” She closed her eyes, but the darkness only magnified those horrific memories.

Mitch pulled her close to himself. “Running away can be a very good thing. If I hadn’t run, we wouldn’t have survived the fighting in Belgium.”

“In these days, how do you know what is right and what is wrong? One bad decision can affect you for the rest of your life. Might even shorten it.”

“You’re right.”

She sat still for a while, her ear pressed against his chest and listened to his heart beating.

“Tante. Tante.” Annelies stirred, and Gisela left his embrace to give the girl a drink of water.

“How are you feeling?”

Annelies shook her head. “Yucky. When is Mutti coming?”

That was a question Gisela wished she had the answer to. “Soon, very soon. After you sleep and feel better, then perhaps she will be here.”

Annelies’s blond eyelashes fluttered and she drifted off. Gisela stroked her glistening hair.

“Look at what your running did. You’re alive. The girls are here, out of the clutches of the Russians.”

“For now. What if staying here is the wrong thing to do?”

Audra gave a tap at the bedroom door before entering the sickroom. Both kinder slept, their faces pale, their cheeks rosy. Josep and Gisela sat together on the edge of the bed, his arm around her waist.

Kurt was right. If they didn’t act now, Josep and Gisela might form a bond that would be difficult for him to break.

“Excuse me. How are the girls?”

Gisela nodded. “Resting well. I wish the doctor would hurry and come. Mutti left awhile ago.”

“She will be here soon. Time drags when you are worried. You look exhausted. Why don’t you go to my room and lie down for a while? I will let you know when the doctor arrives.”

Josep released his grip. “That’s a terrific idea. You go.”

Gisela came to her feet. “Danke. You are a true friend.”

Audra didn’t relax until the door clicked shut behind Gisela. Then she slipped into the spot the other woman had vacated. “I am worried about you too.”

“Danke. I am fine. That is nice of you to help Gisela.”

“Renate and Annelies have become special to me. I have known them for a little while. When they came into the dress shop where I worked, they chatted away and sat so well while their mutti shopped. They loved it when I snuck them each a piece of candy.”

“Gisela is good to them. You are too.”

She sat in silence for a moment, deciding on what to say next. The awkward pause dragged on too long.

Josep cleared his throat. “Are you staying here? In Berlin?”

“I don’t know. I would like to go to America someday. People there are rich. I could be a movie star.” She sat straighter. “You could teach me English. I will never be an actress if I don’t learn it.”

“Not everyone in America is rich.”

“You’ve been to America?”

He bit the inside of his cheek. “Nein. But that is what I hear.”

“But people have cars and jobs and plenty of food to eat. When I was growing up, there was never enough for me or my many brothers and sisters. I never want to live that way again.”

“I understand. I hope you succeed. If you’d like to learn English, I could help with that.”

She flashed her best before-the-war smile. “Thank you.” She leaned into him, touched his cheek, and placed a feathery-light kiss on his lips.

And then the door scraped open.

Gisela stood on the threshold.

TWENTY-TWO

G
isela stood in the doorway, a dark silhouette against the light from the window. Mitch heard her sharp intake of breath, saw her cover her mouth, watched her turn and flee from the room.

“Gisela. Stop. Wait.” He rose from his position on the sickbed.

Audra pulled him down. “Let her go. She needs to calm down.”

He tugged his wrist free. “Nein. I have to tell her.”

“Tell her what? It was an innocent flirtation.”

“She is my wife.”

“She isn’t.” Audra narrowed her eyes. “You lied about being a German officer. You hid your British identity. What else have you been fibbing about?”

“How do you know?”

“Kurt knows. He heard Gisela talking to her mother. What is your real name?”

The situation just became very dangerous. “I think it’s best you don’t know.” What would they do with that information?

He’d worry about that later. Right now he wanted to find Gisela. Had this crazy urge to locate her. This war would separate them, but he still wanted to find her. He stood once more.

“Bitte, Josep, don’t go.”

Had Audra lost her mind? “I have to.” He ran out of the room and checked the rest of the apartment. Gisela was nowhere to be found.

Where might she have gone? She wouldn’t leave the children alone.

Audra stopped him in the living room. “You will make things worse if you go after her now. She will be angry with you. I tell you, waiting a little while will be good. Let her come back when she is ready.”

Audra clung to his arm as Kurt entered from the kitchen. “What is the matter?”

“She”—Mitch glared—“kissed me. And drove Gisela away.”

Kurt’s stone-like face was difficult to read. Was it shock, surprise, or glee Mitch saw in the other man’s eyes? “She is a beautiful woman.”

“Where did Gisela go?”

“I didn’t see her leave, only heard the door shut. I thought perhaps the doctor had come.”

“I have to find her.” Mitch tore himself from Audra’s clutches and left the apartment as fast as possible.

But when he got to the bottom of the stairs, he didn’t know which way to go. Did she head outside?

He knocked on the door of the first-floor flat. Perhaps she had gone to visit Bettina and Katya. An older woman, rather stooped, her hands shaking, answered his knock. He recognized her from the air-raid shelter.

“Have you seen Fräulein Cramer?”

“Nein, nein. She is missing?”

He didn’t want to concern this woman. “She is upset about the girls being sick. I wanted to check on her.”

“Dearie, who is at the door? Is it Jean-Claude? If so, do let him in.”

The woman shook her head, a few gray curls escaping from her pins. “That woman believes we are in Paris. I don’t know why she thinks that.”

“She is confused. They both are. Play along with the game. You’ll have fun.”

“She speaks to me in French.” The woman held her hands high. “I don’t speak French.”

Mitch needed to hurry. If Gisela had gone out, by this time she would be far down the street. Perhaps even around the corner.

“If you see Fräulein Cramer, bitte, tell her Josep is looking for her. Danke.”

He turned away and rushed to the street before the old woman closed the door. He gazed to his left and right. No sign of her. No telling where she might have gone.

He struck off to his left, stepping around rubble. No cars rumbled past on the street and very few bicycles. Most people walked. A few blocks down ran a streetcar line, but the tracks had suffered damage and the cars didn’t operate on a set schedule, according to Gisela.

If she had gotten on the tram, he would never find her. He walked around the block, hoping to spy the pretty pink sweater she had been wearing this morning. He missed her easily identifiable green scarf.

No sign of her. No one frequented the cafés, the tables pulled inside for the winter. With all of the air raids, he doubted anyone had sat at the tables for a while.

He continued his circuit around the block but saw no sign of her. Without her, his heart was hollow.

Had that thought crossed his mind? How much he missed her when she was not with him?

Impossible. She was like a pebble at the bottom of his shoe.

Besides, a romance between a British soldier and a German
woman would be frowned upon for sure. His chaps would call it fraternizing with the enemy.

Then again, she was also American. Did that make a difference?

What did matter were the stirrings in his heart, unlike anything he had ever known. Most others in his platoon had girls back home. Even in the POW camp, they had received letters from their sweethearts.

His letters came from his mother and sister. No girl had ever caught his eye or held his attention for very long. He’d been too busy with rugby and cricket with his mates. And, strange as it was after having known Gisela for but a few weeks, she intrigued him. Perhaps this was what war did to you, made you realize what was important. Then again, he’d never known anyone as beautiful or as special as Gisela.

He searched the neighborhood for a good fifteen minutes without sighting her. Dragging his feet, he made his way back to the apartment.

He entered the lobby and stood with his hands on his hips for a minute or two, trying to think where else she might be, when he heard a soft mewing from below. Like a kitten crying.

He dashed down the wooden steps. Sure enough, on the bed in the far corner of the dark and damp shelter sat Gisela. She covered her face and cried a pitiful, heart-breaking cry.

Ten strides took him to her side. Not wanting to startle her, he settled himself beside her on the mattress. She continued her soft weeping. Her tears wrenched his gut. He pulled her close to him, but she didn’t stop.

“Gisela.”

Now she looked up, straight into his eyes. Unshed tears dangled on her golden lashes. “You came.”

“Yes.”

All of his senses were heightened—the pink of her sweater
more vibrant, the moldy odor of the basement more pungent, the cold of the bunker more intense. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not about that.”

“It’s not?”

She sniffled. “Not entirely. If you are supposed to be my husband, you shouldn’t have been kissing her.”

“She kissed me.” Though it sounded like he was making excuses, it was the truth. “And they know we aren’t married. And that I’m British.”

“How?”

“They heard you talking to your mum.”

Her last tear fell. “I did this. What if they tell? Now you have no choice but to leave.”

His heart leapt like it might jump from his chest. “Not until the girls are well.”

“Does it all ever get to be too much for you?”

“What?”

“For years, our lives have been in constant danger. We run from one place to another, never safe. I ran away from Heide and Lotta. Then Ella entrusted her precious children to me, and Herr Holtzmann died, leaving me to care for his senile sisters. Now the girls are sick. How much more does the Lord expect me to bear?”

Her tears were for more than the incident with Audra. What answer did he have?

“Will the Lord forgive me for all the wrong?” She gazed at him with such expectation in her eyes.

“You have done nothing wrong.”

“So many have depended on me.”

He gave her a sideways hug and she leaned on his shoulder. “You have your mum to help you, and you have me. I don’t think you want Kurt’s or Audra’s help.”

She chuckled just a little under her breath. “No. Not if she’s going to be kissing you.”

“You aren’t in this alone.” He pulled away from her and caressed her cheek. “We will do it, you and I. We will get it right this time.”