The denial came to his lips, but he couldn’t speak. Isn’t that exactly what he’d thought when he’d first discovered Edie’s letter? Now he only wondered how he ever could have thought such things about her. “That’s what most people would have done.”
Her gaze fell to the table, but not before he recognized a flash of pain. “I’ve had some experience at dealing with someone I love who hasn’t always made the right choices, and I thought I could help her.”
Sounded like something his aunt would do. “Aunt Merri, this is different.”
“Is it?” With a feminine snort, she leaned her head back against the headrest. “You know, I used to think the sun and the stars rose with your daddy.” Merrilee laughed. “One day, he came down the third grade hall just to make sure I had milk money. I was so thrilled. I told everyone about my big brother and how he took care of me.”
His father, kind to Merrilee? This was a side of his father he’d never heard about. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. For a long time, I thought it was me, that I must have done something to make him hate me.”
“No,” he reassured her. “I know you. All you’ve ever done is love Dad despite his meanness.”
Merrilee flashed him a sad smile. “Well, that’s the reason I decided this was the best place for Edie. I see a lot of that same guilt and pain that I used to carry reflected in her.”
Beau sank down beside her on the couch. “I’m glad you let her stay here. And I think you’re right. She does feel a lot of guilt over what her father is doing. I just wish I could figure out a way to help her let go of that feeling.”
Merrilee smiled at him over the rim of her coffee cup. “It sounds like Edie has become very important to you.”
“I…care about her.” The words sounded so bland, nothing like the colorful woman he’d come to know so well over the last few weeks. Then what exactly did he feel for Edie? Beau frowned. “But I don’t understand her at times.”
“That’s nothing new under the sun.” She laughed, setting her cup on the coffee table then leaned back again. “I haven’t met a man yet who’s figured out women.”
“It’s not that, it’s just—” He took one last sip of his coffee then set his cup down. “Even now, after everything her parents have done to her, she still seems to love them.”
“Of course she does, sweetheart.”
Beau plowed his fingers through his hair, his hand settling at the base of his skull. “Why? They’ve hunted her down like she’s some mangy dog, put her life in danger, and for what? So they can dance at the same parties in Hamburg with Hitler?”
“Love can’t be turned off and on like a light switch. Just because someone makes a bad choice doesn’t mean that love goes away.”
“Someone hurts you bad enough, and it can.”
Merrilee lowered her chin to her chest. “You’re not talking about the Michaelses now, are you?”
“I just don’t understand how Edie can still love them.”
“Because you think you don’t love your father.”
Beau’s head snapped around. “I haven’t cared about him since the night I left ten years ago.”
“And yet you’re fixing up his house to get the money for his defense lawyers. You’ve talked about this being his chance to know the Lord.” She tilted her head to the side, her lips pulled into a knowing smile. “That sounds to me like you care.”
There may be a sucker born every minute, but he wasn’t going to be one. “No use putting the cost of Dad’s lawyer on the backs of struggling citizens.”
“True, but at the same time, why are you going all the way to Atlanta to secure the best defense lawyer money can buy?”
He scoffed at her question, even as he wondered if there wasn’t a nugget of truth to what she said. Why was he doing all this for his father? “Don’t read too much into this.”
“As long as you consider the possibility that you might actually care about what happens to your father. It’s okay for you to love him, Beau.” She gave him a friendly shove. “In fact, it’s in the Bible.”
“I know. The Ten Commandments. I remember.”
“I was thinking about the book as a whole.” She gave him an indulgent smile. “Let me ask you something. Do you think I love Claire?”
Beau scrubbed the bottom half of his face. “What has that got to do with me and Dad?”
“Just answer the question.”
“Anyone with eyes in their head can see you love Claire very much.”
“But Claire disobeys me. She plays in her Sunday dress or hounds you about her father, but I choose to love her despite those mistakes. That’s the way God loves us. He knows we’re going to mess up and He hates when we do it, but He chooses to love us anyway.”
Just like Edie chose to love her mother.
Merrilee pressed her lips against his cheek, then stood. “You’ll figure things out, sweetheart. Just pray on it.”
He watched her pick up the cups and cross over to the sideboard. Is that what he’d done, considered his father the enemy for so long that he didn’t realize he had a choice—to forgive his father and love him despite everything?
Chapter Eighteen
“Edie?”
Edie’s eyelids fluttered open. Pale sunlight playing peekaboo with the blackout curtains formed unfamiliar shadows around the modest room, and for a terse second, fear pulsed through her. She quickly glanced around the room, looking for a fast exit and found Gertie instead, standing in the doorway leading to the kitchen. The Stephenses’ house.
Her heart rate settled into a slower pattern. “What time is it?”
“Almost five.” Wrapping the edges of her bathrobe around her, Gertie walked over and sat down in the chair beside her. “What are you doing sleeping out here?”
She sighed, her eyes on fire from lack of rest. “I couldn’t get my mind to stop spinning long enough to go to sleep.” Truth was, she’d spent the last few hours trying to pray, but the words wouldn’t come, her thoughts jangled and messy.
Her life had become a prison, existing only inside the gates of the bomber plant or the Stephenses’ home. Not for the first time, she thought of Beau, of what he had endured. How had he managed to grow his faith while enduring incarceration by the Nazis? But she knew what his answer would be.
Prayer.
Are you listening, Lord? Do you hear me at all?
“You haven’t slept a full night in almost a week now. Are you sure it’s not the bed?”
Edie had taken over Gertie’s brother’s room since her mother’s arrival five days ago. While it was clean and reasonably comfortable, it wasn’t her room back at Merrilee’s. It wasn’t home. “It’s fine.”
“Why don’t you send Daddy with a note for Mr. Ellerbee and tell him you’ll come in later so you can get a little nap in?”
She shook her head. At least when she was at work, guards could provide protection. Here, the people in the neighborhood were sitting ducks, out in the open, ready to be picked off the pond.
“I’d better get up and get moving. I don’t want to throw your dad’s bus schedule off by being late.” Moving to the edge of the cushions, Edie arched her back, the muscles around her shoulder blades throbbing in time with her heart. “What are you doing up so early?”
“I’ve got a meeting with Dr. Lovinggood this morning. He wants to talk to me about coming back to work.”
“Are you sure you want to work for him again?”
Gertie slouched back in her chair. “I haven’t exactly been getting job offers, and Momma starts to cry every time I mention the army nurse corp. I’ve got to make a living so I haven’t got much of a choice. I’m just thankful Beau talked Lovinggood into giving me a second chance.”
Beau. He was as much her home as the four walls of the room Merrilee rented out to her. She missed their talks, missed sitting out on the front porch, rocking beside him in a rocking chair, listening to the crickets sing in the soft shadows of the evening.
But she knew what it felt like to be in his shoes, to be held captive by the enemy—maybe not physically, but mentally. Could Beau look past her family, past her German heritage and love her for who she was, a woman who loved him very much?
Could he ever forgive her for the danger she put his family in?
“How is Beau?”
“He’s fine. Seems to have his mind on other things lately, but other than that, okay.”
Edie nodded. Of course he was preoccupied, probably thinking about how to protect Merrilee and Claire if the German Bund showed up at the boardinghouse. Men who were after her for what little information about the B-29 she could give them.
She should have never moved into Merrilee’s. Sure, she’d tried to be as honest as she could without drawing attention to herself. But now the people she cared about most were in danger, and the fault of that situation lay solely at her feet.
Edie leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes. There was nothing she could do to make things right, nothing but pray. Lord, forgive me for stepping around the truth and putting the people I love the most in the world in harm’s way. Please, hide us in Your protection. Keep us safe.
Now, time to get the day started. Edie stood, holding on to the armrest when her knees wobbled beneath her. “If we’re going to make it to work on time, I’d better start the coffee.”
“I’ll whip up a pan of biscuits.” Gertie raised the lantern, throwing a dim light across the living room, throwing shadows against the couple of chairs and end tables. “If we’ve still got some bacon, I’ll fry some up.”
Together, they walked quietly down the hall. Edie pushed the door open with her shoulder, holding it for Gertie. “I’ll go get us some water.”
“You sure you know how to use the pump?”
Edie could understand why Gertie had concerns. The old water pump at the end of their yard had given Edie fits the first couple of days she was there. Edie scooped up the empty bucket sitting on top of the stove. “Not really, but the pump’s easier to work than getting a good fire burning in that stove.”
“You don’t have to tell me. How Momma cooks on this thing, I’ll never know.” Gertie grabbed two coffee cups from the dish drain and headed back to the refrigerator while Edie walked to the back door. She was halfway across the room when a low knock rattled the glass window of the door.
The two women exchanged looks. “Who could be here this early in the morning?” Gertie asked.
Edie stepped around the table. Heart hammering against her rib cage, she cracked open the door. A shard of light fell across the threshold and she threw the door completely open. “Ernie?”
“I’m sorry to be bothering you so early in the morning, Ms. Edie.” The little boy wrung his hands together, his shirttail hanging at an awkward angle from the waist of his jeans, as if he didn’t have time to tuck it into his pants properly. “Momma says I need to get Ms. Gertie.”
“Well, she’s here.” Edie moved to the side. “Why don’t you come inside and get warmed up. Then you can tell us what’s going on.”
“There ain’t no time, Ms. Edie. Just told me to come and get Ms. Gertie.”
Something was horribly wrong, though what, she couldn’t fathom. She glanced over her shoulder as Gertie came up behind her. “You have a visitor.”
“What is it, Ernie?”
He glanced back and forth between the two women, his dark eyes filled with fear and worry. “It’s Bea. She woke up this morning, burning up like she was on fire. Momma’s been working on her the last hour or so, but she can’t get the fever to break. She said you had to come.”
“Go tell your momma that I’ll be there just as soon as I throw on some clothes.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The little boy barely waited for an answer before disappearing into the shadows of the early morning light.
Gertie hurried over to the cabinets next to the kitchen window and pulled back the sunny yellow curtain covers. Bottles of various sizes and shapes lined the shelf.
“What are you looking for?” Edie asked.
“Rubbing alcohol.” Gertie read the label of one bottle before setting it on the counter. “If Bea is as feverish as Ernie said, I might need to rub her in alcohol to cool her down.”
Faint alarm bells rang in Edie’s ears. But why, when Bea could have something as simple as the flu? “Do the Barneses have any other kids beside Ernie and Bea?”
“Two.” Gertie pulled out some cotton balls.
“Then I’m going with you.” Edie held up one hand when Gertie started to protest. “Now listen to me. Everyone here has been so good to me. The very least I can do is take care of the other kids while you’re working on Bea.”
“I don’t know, Edie. I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you while you’re staying with us.”
“Nothing’s going to happen. Like you said, no one’s going to come looking for me here.” Edie sounded more confident than she felt. “And it’s not like I’m parading through Marietta Square. We’re just going two doors down.”
Gertie leaned a hip against the side of the countertop. “And what about Abner Ellerbee?”
“I’ll send a note with your dad.”
Her friend snorted an indignant huff. “I don’t like having my own suggestions flung back at me.”
Edie walked over to where Gertie stood. She owed this woman—this community—so much. “Just let me help you.”
“Fine, but only for a little while. And we’re going to have to talk to Daddy and see if there’s a way to sneak you on the bus later without anyone being none the wiser.”
“Thank you. I’ll go change.”
“Be ready to leave in ten minutes.”
Edie’s lips twitched into a faint smile as she walked out of the kitchen, leaving Gertie to hunt down the rest of her supplies. She had accomplished something getting the best of her friend, not an easy feat. But Gertie might need help, especially if Bea was as sick as she sounded.
Fifteen minutes later, Edie stood in the doorway of five-year-old Bea Barnes’s bedroom, Ernie and his two younger sisters, Ramona and Hessie, clinging to her as if they feared for their lives. She’d tried to interest them in a game of Old Maid in the tiny living room, anything to keep their minds busy and away from the pall hanging over the back bedroom of the modest house.
“She just had an upset stomach last night,” Alice Barnes said, hovering over Gertie as she pulled the ear piece of her stethoscope from her ear. “So I put a cold rag on her belly to draw the heat out and she was better. Then this morning, I came in here to get the girls up for school, and Bea was gasping, like she couldn’t take in her air.”
Edie’s throat tightened. Fever, stomachache, difficulty breathing. The diagnosis flashed through her mind.
Polio.
Pulling back the covers, Gertie lifted the child’s arm. “Bea, I want you to lift your arm up for me, okay sweet girl?”
Edie held her breath, throwing up bits of prayer, hoping that she’d made the wrong diagnosis, that little Bea just had a cold or something. But when her arm fell like deadweight to the mattress, Edie knew she’d read the situation correctly.
Gertie pulled the covers back up around Bea, tucking them in tight. “We need to get her to the hospital as soon as possible.”
“My man is off fighting, Gertie, and I don’t have a lot of money to be spending on hospital bills.” Her low clipped words came out needy and nervous. “Can’t you just doctor her here?”
But Edie knew the answer. If the paralysis had been contained in the arms or legs, then yes, they could do everything that the hospital personal would do. But Bea’s difficulty breathing meant the virus had infected her chest, and that called for an intervention.
Gertie stood, swinging her stethoscope around her neck. “No. Truth is, Bea needs help to breathe and that’s not something I can do here. But if we get her to the hospital, they have machines there that will help her breathe easier.”
A drop of m
oisture slid down the woman’s cheek, her coffee-colored eyes swimming in unshed tears. “All right.”
Gertie stood from her place beside Bea’s bed, turned and hugged Alice. “We’re going to take care of her, Alice.”
“I know.”
As Gertie headed in her direction, Edie looked down at the children. While Ernie and Hessie seemed fine, Ramona’s cheeks had a bright flush that concerned her. “Ernie, why don’t you take your sisters into the kitchen and write Bea a letter? I’m sure she’d love to read it once she gets better.”
“Can we use crayons?”
Edie wasn’t sure what Mrs. Barnes’s rule was, but thought she would probably bend it if the kids kept their minds occupied on other things than their sister. “Just this once. But be very careful.”
The children scooted off just as Gertie joined her. “Do you know how to drive a car?”
An odd question in light of the situation. “Yes, why?”
Gertie smashed her lips together. “We’ve got to get that child to the hospital because if we don’t, she is going to die.”
“Okay.”
Gertie touched her arm. “Do you realize how much danger you could be putting yourself into? I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
She didn’t, either, Edie admitted. But she was tired of running. If her father and his Gau wanted her, she would go—not willingly, but because she couldn’t stand the thought of putting others at risk for her sake.
I know the plans I have for you, plans for good,
not evil.
Edie nodded. God would work this mess out. She had faith in Him.
“Get her ready to go,” Edie said, hurrying toward the front door. “I’ll go get the car.”
* * *
Edie slid her hand along the oak banister, slowly making her way down the hospital stairway, the cool air trapped in the cinder blocks a blessed respite from the continued heat. Gertie had told her to wait here, figuring that the stairwell was a safe place for her to hide while she got Bea Barnes admitted.
Was Beau taking care of the little girl even now?
Hearts in Hiding Page 21