Next, he begins to reset the bones. An excruciating, white-hot searing pain explodes in my hand. A pain worse than when Christian crushed it.
I whimper and scream into Johann’s chest. He holds me tighter, his muscles taut against my body. With each scream I muffle into his chest, his muscles grow more tense.
“You’re so brave and beautiful,” he murmurs in my ear. “So very brave.”
I don’t withdraw into another time and place like I did while being tortured. I let the real Johann be my strength, the full moon that gives rise to hope.
I wobble in and out of consciousness as the doctor works, the pain greater than my brain can endure.
“I’m almost finished,” Dr. Hubert says after what feels like several lifetimes. Johann’s shirt is wet against my cheek from all my tears and the sweat that dampens my brow and upper lip.
Another bite of hot pain shoots up my arm. I’m wavering on the wall again, close to crashing on the side of oblivion. Despite what Johann is saying, I’m not sure I will last much longer.
Dr. Hubert positions my hand on a board and ties it into place. Johann releases me, and my arm is secured across my chest with a sling.
Rosita puts her hand on my other arm, the touch gentle and comforting. “You need to rest now. Do you have somewhere to stay?”
I shake my head. “It’s not safe for me to return to where I was living.”
If the Gestapo has destroyed theCashmerenetwork like Christian claimed, I have no way to contact Baker Street and alert them to what has happened. And all my money and the gold compact Major Buckmaster gave me are hidden in the farmhouse. I have nothing except the clothes I was arrested in.
“You can stay here while you recover,” Rosita says. “Your injured hand will need to be exercised several times a day while it’s healing so you do not lose full function of it. I can help you with the exercises. I used to be a nurse.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother.”
“You can stay in our guest room,” Dr. Hubert offers. “There is no reason for the Gestapo to search for you here. And if they do come, we have somewhere safe where you can hide. They won’t be able to find you.” He turns to Johann. “But you will need to get rid of that car and the uniform.” He eyes Johann speculatively. “Or are you planning to return to the German Army?”
“No. Even if I wanted to, I’ll be executed once they piece together that I was responsible for Angelique’s disappearance. And even if they don’t figure it out, my troop could be sent to the Eastern front soon.”
“Yes, but if it weren’t for those things, would you return to the German Army?” Rosita presses, leaning towards him, concern and urgency in her tone.
“No. My home was Austria, but that changed once Hitler came into power. I am not interested in fighting for him.” Johann smiles at me, his love for me shining bright in his eyes. “I have someone else I want to fight for.” He rests his hand on my lower belly, and the heat of his palm spreads throughout me. “Two someones I want to fight for.”
“What about your mother and sister?” I ask, my voice hushed. They are the reason he joined the Army. Has he given up hope they’re still alive? Like Dieter had?
“I hope they escaped from Austria and ended up far away from Hitler’s reach. I hope one day, once the war is over, I will be reunited with them. And I hope one day my mother gets to meet her first grandchild and my wife.” Johann’s warm and generous smile is almost enough to make me temporarily forget the war and everything else we’re facing.
“But I also know I was a fool in believing that by joining the Army,” Johann adds, his smile fading, “I was somehow protecting them.” Sadness dulls the hope in his eyes.
My heart splinters for him. Splinters at everything this war has cost him. “I hope I’ll get to meet your mother and sister one day soon.”I hope they’re alive.I try to give him a reassuring smile. A smile no doubt dented from the pain hammering my wrist and my hand.
He brushes his thumbs under my eyes, catching the tears from my pain, and turns to Rosita. “I’ll stay with Angelique until she falls asleep. Then I’ll take the car as far away as possible so the Gestapo and Milice don’t find it anywhere near here. And I’ll destroy all evidence linking us to it.”
Rosita nods her approval. “When was the last time you ate?” she asks me.
“I’m not sure I can keep anything down right now.” And I’m not hungry, the pain and morning sickness hindering my appetite.
She looks to Johann for whatever answer I didn’t give her.
“She hasn’t eaten since breakfast yesterday. Before I left the house. I doubt she was given anything after she was arrested.” He doesn’t need me to confirm that he is correct.
“You should really eat, Angelique. For the baby’s sake. Even if it is just a small amount for now. You need to keep up your strength.” Rosita gets up, goes to the larder and the sink, and returns with a glass of water and a small piece of bread. “It is probably for the best if you do only have small amounts to begin with. Until we’re certain you can tolerate food.”
“Once we’ve got you settled in the guest room,” Dr. Hubert informs me, “I’ll check on your baby.”
Rosita puts the plate and glass in front of me. I take a hesitant sip of water and a tiny bite of the bread. When it appears that I can keep them down, I slowly drink half the water and eat several small mouthfuls. The queasiness strikes again, forcing me to stop.
Rosita leads Johann and me to a spare bedroom. She leaves and returns with a water jug and a clean nightgown. “I assume since you got her in the motherly way,” she says to Johann, keeping her expression free of what she thinks about that, “you are able to help her undress and put the nightgown on?”
