into the crowded space, her mouth wreathed in a smile. “You’re all right then?” she asked, and as she studied him from head to toe, using the lantern she carried for the task, he had the oddest feeling that if she could, she would touch him to be certain that he was truly all right.
It had been a long time since he had seen a woman look at him that way—too long. “So it’s over?” His voice came out raspy.
“Yes,” she told him. “They have gone. We could not find you even though we searched everywhere. First inside and then outside. My grandfather must have walked through the shed here three times. It was only when Josef headed this way to look that Olaf mentioned the horse being down, and then it was as if all at once we knew. How in the world did you ever get this far from the house?”
He was confused. Her words made no sense. And more to the point, she wasn’t the least bit frightened for herself or her grandparents.
“I am captured?”
The guy standing in the doorway muttered something and gave a derisive snort.
“Not yet at least,” Josef announced as he stepped forward and wrapped his arm around Peter’s waist to support him. “But if we don’t get you off that leg …” He nodded to the man in the doorway, who reluctantly took up his position on Peter’s other side. “This is Mikel. You will be getting to know one another as we rebuild your strength.”
The two men helped him hobble toward the house. When they reached the door, Ailsa tweaked his cheek and clucked her tongue as she scolded him in her own language.
“Momse is quite upset with you,” Anja explained. “She says she is far too old for such frights.”
“Tell her I am sorry to have caused her any worry.”
Anja translated, and Ailsa grinned and tweaked his cheek a second time. But this time she added a light pat, and her expression of relief that he was all right needed no translation.
The two men helped him to a chair by the fire that Olaf was stoking. Ailsa covered his lap with a blanket while Anja prepared a cup of hot tea for him. Once he was seated, Josef sat on a footstool close to him while Mikel took up his post by the door. The blackout curtains were drawn, and the fire crackled as Peter sipped the tea and savored the feel of the warm liquid soothing his throat.
“What now?” he asked, directing his question to Anja. But it was Josef who answered him.
“We will move you to the café that Lisbeth and I own in Brussels. Tonight is best because there is no moon, and best of all it is Christmas Eve, so patrols will be lighter and less observant.”
Christmas Eve
. He had forgotten. In America this was the night that children like Daniel waited excitedly for Santa’s visit. But Daniel was at the orphanage, and Peter couldn’t help but think that maybe that in itself was a gift.
Ailsa placed both hands on her bony hips and scowled at Josef and Mikel. Then she made what was clearly a pronouncement in Danish before turning on her heel and marching back to the kitchen.
Peter, Mikel, and Josef looked to Anja for a translation.
“First we eat,” she said with a tired smile and followed her grandmother to the kitchen.
CHAPTER 5
A fter the day he’d had, Peter was so exhausted that he barely paid attention to his new surroundings once Mikel and Josef led him down an alley, through the back rooms of two buildings, and finally up a winding stairway to an attic at least twice the size of the one he’d just left at the farm. What did register was the comfort of the bed, the warmth of the room, and the wonderful scents of cinnamon and other spices that seeped up from below. As he drifted off to sleep, he remembered that Josef had mentioned that his wife, Lisbeth, was preparing breads and pastries to serve at the Quaker meeting that would be held the following morning in the dining room of the café.
“You can come down for that if you like,” Josef told him. “I think it will be safe enough, and
It had been a long time since he had seen a woman look at him that way—too long. “So it’s over?” His voice came out raspy.
“Yes,” she told him. “They have gone. We could not find you even though we searched everywhere. First inside and then outside. My grandfather must have walked through the shed here three times. It was only when Josef headed this way to look that Olaf mentioned the horse being down, and then it was as if all at once we knew. How in the world did you ever get this far from the house?”
He was confused. Her words made no sense. And more to the point, she wasn’t the least bit frightened for herself or her grandparents.
“I am captured?”
The guy standing in the doorway muttered something and gave a derisive snort.
“Not yet at least,” Josef announced as he stepped forward and wrapped his arm around Peter’s waist to support him. “But if we don’t get you off that leg …” He nodded to the man in the doorway, who reluctantly took up his position on Peter’s other side. “This is Mikel. You will be getting to know one another as we rebuild your strength.”
The two men helped him hobble toward the house. When they reached the door, Ailsa tweaked his cheek and clucked her tongue as she scolded him in her own language.
“Momse is quite upset with you,” Anja explained. “She says she is far too old for such frights.”
“Tell her I am sorry to have caused her any worry.”
Anja translated, and Ailsa grinned and tweaked his cheek a second time. But this time she added a light pat, and her expression of relief that he was all right needed no translation.
The two men helped him to a chair by the fire that Olaf was stoking. Ailsa covered his lap with a blanket while Anja prepared a cup of hot tea for him. Once he was seated, Josef sat on a footstool close to him while Mikel took up his post by the door. The blackout curtains were drawn, and the fire crackled as Peter sipped the tea and savored the feel of the warm liquid soothing his throat.
“What now?” he asked, directing his question to Anja. But it was Josef who answered him.
“We will move you to the café that Lisbeth and I own in Brussels. Tonight is best because there is no moon, and best of all it is Christmas Eve, so patrols will be lighter and less observant.”
Christmas Eve
. He had forgotten. In America this was the night that children like Daniel waited excitedly for Santa’s visit. But Daniel was at the orphanage, and Peter couldn’t help but think that maybe that in itself was a gift.
Ailsa placed both hands on her bony hips and scowled at Josef and Mikel. Then she made what was clearly a pronouncement in Danish before turning on her heel and marching back to the kitchen.
Peter, Mikel, and Josef looked to Anja for a translation.
“First we eat,” she said with a tired smile and followed her grandmother to the kitchen.
CHAPTER 5
A fter the day he’d had, Peter was so exhausted that he barely paid attention to his new surroundings once Mikel and Josef led him down an alley, through the back rooms of two buildings, and finally up a winding stairway to an attic at least twice the size of the one he’d just left at the farm. What did register was the comfort of the bed, the warmth of the room, and the wonderful scents of cinnamon and other spices that seeped up from below. As he drifted off to sleep, he remembered that Josef had mentioned that his wife, Lisbeth, was preparing breads and pastries to serve at the Quaker meeting that would be held the following morning in the dining room of the café.
“You can come down for that if you like,” Josef told him. “I think it will be safe enough, and
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