Read Online The Color of Secrets by Lindsay Ashford - Free Book Online

to work out the implications of what he was suggesting. “It might not be as easy as you think,” she said at last.
    “What’s the problem?”
    “Well, I don’t know if I can trust her.”
    “Why not? What can she say without blowing it with the Dutch guy?”
    “It’s not what she might say, it’s what she might do that worries me.” Eva frowned. “She’s very . . . advanced for her age, Bill. I’m worried she might . . . you know.”
    “Hmm.” He grunted. “I hear what you’re saying.” He hugged her to him. “In that case you and I are just going to have to play chaperone.”
    “You mean go out with Dilys and . . . ?”
    “Yep—better a foursome than nothing at all.” He took her arm and led her toward the market square.
    “I don’t know if I can handle going on double dates with my kid sister.”
    “We don’t have to hang out with them all the time—just go to the same places, keep an eye on them, like you were doing last week.”
    The strains of dance music drifted from the Civic Hall.
    “Shall we go in?” He took her by the waist, waltzing her across the pavement.
    “And see you get beaten to a pulp?” She tried to pull him the other way.
    The music changed to a faster beat.
    “Hold on,” he said. “I have a better idea!” Scooping her up in his arms, he ran across the marketplace toward the squat silhouette of the public air-raid shelter.

Chapter 7
     
    As he ran down the steps, he held her so tight she felt dizzy.
    “Bill! What are you doing?” Her voice sounded strange in the air-raid shelter, shrill and echoey. Suddenly she felt scared.
    “Sorry, honey: hope I didn’t shake you up!” He lowered her to the ground, fishing in his pockets for the torch. He found a hook and hung it up, the thin beam giving the gray walls an eerie glow. Through the open door Eva could still hear the dance band at the Civic.
    “What—” Before she could get the words out, he had grabbed her, clasping her right hand in his while his left hand slid around her waist.
    “Okay, this is what you do,” he smiled, moving her hand in time to the music. “Watch my feet: right foot forward, left heel up . . . and back!”
    “What is this?” She laughed as he spun her around.
    “Well, it sure ain’t the fox-trot!” he said, watching her face as he took both her hands and slid her between his legs. “I don’t think it has a name,” he said, catching his breath as she emerged, openmouthed and speechless. “Not a proper one, I mean. But folks in Louisiana call it the jitterbug.”
    She squealed as he jerked her off the ground so that her legs straddled his waist. “Bill! This is crazy!”
    “Don’t you like it? I’ll stop if you want me to.”
    “No!” She squealed again as her head tipped back, her hair brushing the floor. This was not like dancing. More like . . . She gasped for breath. Was that his plan? To get her down here, in the air-raid shelter and soften her up for . . .
    “Hold tight!” With a whoop of delight he scooped her up and threw her over his left shoulder, turning deftly to spin her around as her feet touched the ground. The music faded and she clung to him, breathless. The sound of applause drifted from the dance hall and a slower number started up.
    “Guess you deserve a little rest,” he said, stroking her hair as they began to sway gently in the torchlight, “although I reckon you held up pretty well for a first-timer.”
    “Is that supposed to be a compliment?” She gave him a wry smile.
    “Why yes, ma’am,” he said, sliding his hand along her shoulder to squeeze her arm. “Hey, where’d you get muscles like that?”
    “You jealous?” She smiled. “They come courtesy of Great Western Railways.”
    He stopped moving and held her at arm’s length. “You’re not one of those girls I saw laying track at the railroad station?”
    She nodded, wondering what was going through his mind. He looked indignant, almost angry.
    “Why?” He frowned.