Aiding the Enemy (War Girls)

by Julie Rowe

  “How long will it take to reach the border?”

  “I’m not sure. It could take hours or a day. If we have to hide, it could take much longer.”

  “How will we get across?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The Germans erected an electric fence so people couldn’t cross wherever they liked.”

  “I forgot about that. Is it finished?”

  “A couple of months ago. It’s supposed to carry a charge of no less than two thousand volts.”

  “A ridiculous waste of...” He paused and shook his head. “Fear is the most effective weapon employed in war. Fear and pain.”

  “Indeed.”

  “I hate war.”

  She considered him and his words with her head canted to one side. “Hate is another of their weapons.”

  He didn’t respond for a minute or two. Then without looking at her, he asked, “Your underground has ways across, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes.” She watched him, but he kept his gaze on the landscape. White lines bracketed his mouth.

  “You’re angry.”

  He glanced at her now. “I beg your pardon?”

  “About my participation in the underground.” She watched his mouth tighten to the point where the white lines turned into chasms. “You’re furious.”

  He didn’t answer.

  She stopped walking. “Why on earth did you save me when you so obviously disapprove of what I was doing?”

  He whirled around to grab her by the shoulders. “I don’t disapprove of your intent to save lives. What I disapprove of was the danger you put yourself in. If I hadn’t initiated your rescue, you’d be dead right now.”

  “I could not stand idly by and watch as my countrymen were hunted. When the first one came to my door and begged for shelter, I could not refuse.”

  “Did you give any thought to the consequences of your decision?”

  “Of course I did. I knew the moment I opened my door to that exhausted British soldier that I was risking everything. Would you have done any different if it were German soldiers?”

  “No. Likely not.” He released abruptly her and stepped away.

  “Worry has been my constant companion since the war started. I never knew when we would run out of bandages, ether or laudanum. If we’d have enough food to feed the staff or the patents. Or when I would be arrested, or forced to leave because I’m British.” She sighed. “But my biggest fear was not knowing what you would say when you found out what I was doing. I thought for certain you’d abandon the hospital. Abandon me.”

  “You thought I didn’t know about your activities?”

  “I believed you suspected, but with no proof evident, you appeared happy to carry on with the day-to-day work.”

  He spun around, his eyes wide and jaw open. “You thought I’d turn you in, didn’t you? If I had proof.”

  “If you had proof, yes.”

  “Even after I helped you discredit that damned, brutal officer to save your friend, Maria?”

  She sputtered. “I...how...why didn’t you say something to me then?”

  “Because I was trying to protect you.”

  “By pretending you didn’t know what I was doing right under your nose?”

  “Yes.”

  In hindsight, her attempts at subterfuge seemed ridiculously inept. “Good grief, it’s a wonder no one arrested me weeks ago.”

  Herman cleared his throat.

  She glanced at him. “Don’t tell me you had something to do with that?”

  “I may have made things more difficult for the ones investigating you.”

  “What a pair we are.” Both trying to save one another, each oblivious to the other’s cause. She shook her head. “Perhaps we deserve to be married.”

  “Are you implying that becoming my wife is anything less than an honour?”

  “I’m saying that becoming your wife isn’t going to increase your lifespan.”

  “It’s a good thing I’m a doctor then.”

  “You’re not a doctor any more.”

  He appeared to have trouble swallowing. “Ah yes, of course.” His words might be flippant, but his body language—stiff back, straight arms and clenched fists—told her how upset he really was.

  “You see what you’ll have to give up? It’s not fair. It’s not right. You’re a gifted surgeon and a compassionate doctor. It would be a crime to turn you into anything else.”

  “As I told my brother when he said he’d rather die than lose the ability to play the piano, a man is more than what his hands can do.”

  “You’re a stubborn fool.” Stubborn, smart and far, far too noble for her. He’d given up his profession, his country and his family in order to save her.

  “Then I consider myself in good company.”

  “Ha.” But still a fool. Somehow, some way she was going to have to save him from himself.

  He made a noise and she glanced at him in surprise. His shoulders were shaking.

  “Herman?”

  He turned towards her and released a deep-throated laugh.

  She stopped walking and put her hands on her hips. “What is so funny?”

  “You, me...us.” He stepped close and curled a hand around the nape of her neck. “We are determined to save the other. A fine, fine pair, that’s us.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, but he kissed her before she could say anything. His lips moved on hers in a dance that had her up on tiptoe, her hands at his shoulders, holding him tight. His tongue tangled with hers and he slanted his mouth across hers, deepening the kiss even more.

  Pleasure coursed through her veins, and she realized she was giving voice to it aloud in a series of disjointed moans. She could kiss him for hours and still it would not be enough. Would never be enough.

  He put his other hand around her waist and pulled her hips into hard contact with his body. His cock was a brand against her belly and she rocked against it. His lips left her mouth and he nibbled his way down her neck.

  “Her-Herman, please.”

  “What do you want, Rose?”

  “You. But we ca-can’t. We’re outside and...” He thrust his pelvis, rubbing himself against her, and she lost the ability to speak.

  “Shh, I’ll make it right, promise.”

  How could he do that while they stood in the middle of a field? In plain sight of anyone who might be about.

  He glanced around then dragged her into a small thicket. The hand behind her back yanked her hard against him. He began to rock his hips in a steady rhythm, his cock against her sex, sending spikes of pleasure through her that turned her knees to pudding.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck so she wouldn’t fall, because she didn’t want him to stop. His hand left her neck and slid down to her breast. He palmed it, his fingers rolling her nipple, and the twin triggers of pleasure shattered something deep inside her.

  She screamed, but his mouth captured the noises as if they were to be treasured. His hand left her breast and cupped the back of her head again. All the strength seemed to evaporate from her muscles, but he cradled her close and crooned calming sounds into her ear.

  “Good God, I can’t even stand up,” she groaned. “I’m a shambles. I think you ruined me.”

  He pulled away, putting a hand under her chin and tilting her face up. “Then we’re even.”

  * * *

  Herman was never going to let this woman go. Never. She was already too precious, too deep in his blood. And if that made him a fool, then so be it.

  She stared up at him as if he’d said something shocking, her eyes wide and dilated, her cheeks red from her passion. An uninhibited response he’d coaxed out of her with the both of them still wearing all their clothes.

  For all her knowledge of human anatomy, she obviously didn’t realize how rare that was, how much she had to desire him for her to orgasm so easily. He was dying to take her now, but he wanted more than a quick coupling. He wanted to take his time, learn every curv
e and line of her body and watch her face as she came again and again. He wanted to drown in her and hold her close through the night.

  None of that would happen if he didn’t get them both across the border without getting electrocuted on that damned fence.

  “Even?” she asked.

  “You ruined me some time ago.”

  She blinked. “I did?”

  “Hmm.” He took a step back, grabbed her hand with his and pulled her into a brisk walk.

  “I didn’t mean to.” She said it like an apology.

  “You bewitched me with every cautious move, every compassionate touch, every tender smile.” He grinned at her on purpose. “So it’s only fair if you feel the same.”

  Her hesitant expression turned rueful. He chuckled and tucked her hand into the curve of his elbow, which caused her to walk closer to him. Her scent in his nostrils, her hip bumping against his.

  She glanced around. “Where are we?”

  “I’m not sure, but someone has tended this field in the last few weeks. There must be a farm close by.”

  “If we’re to find a way across the fence, I need to know where we are, so we can find someone in the underground to help us.”

  He scanned the horizon. “Over there. Smoke.” A long, lazy rope hung in the sky. “Shall we investigate?”

  “I think we should. Cautiously, of course.”

  He hid a grin. “Of course.” Rose was ever cautious when it came to the safety of others. It was herself she didn’t seem to mind risking.

  They walked towards the smoke. A small house appeared first then as they got closer, a barn. Cows and sheep grazed on the short grass around it. Someone came out of the barn and walked towards the house perched at the edge of the gulley.

  Herman slid in front of Rose, shielding her from view.

  The farmer stayed his ground and called out in German, “Who are you?”

  “We’re lost,” Herman replied. “My wife and I. Can you tell us where we are?”

  “The Netherlands are an hour’s walk that way.” The farmer gestured with his head to point the direction.

  “How do you know that’s where we’re going?”

  He shrugged. “Lots of lost people wandering around lost since the war started, all looking for the same directions.”

  “Our thanks,” Herman said, nodding. He turned and urged Rose to walk around the farm buildings.

  “Won’t do you much good,” the farmer said.

  “What won’t?”

  “The fence they put up kills. They leave the bodies sometimes. But more die trying to cross it anyway.”

  Rose stepped around Herman. “Is there a farm nearby with a large enough garden that they might sell vegetables?”

  The farmer took a few steps towards them and looked at her. “None I can think of. No one has enough.”

  “Sorry to have troubled you,” Herman said to the farmer. He grabbed Rose by the arm and set off at a brisk walk. “We need to hurry, get out of this area before he can alert anyone.” He urged her into a trot.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Look at all those cows and sheep. How many farmers are this prosperous anymore?”

  She glanced over her shoulder and took in the buildings and the animals. Her body seemed to deflate. “Oh.”

  They walked and ran and walked until the fence came into view in the distance. Herman pulled Rose into a copse of trees and shrubs about one hundred yards from it so they could decide what to do.

  The fence was tall, taller than a man by at least an arm’s length. The hum of electricity was noticeable, even this far away. A small guardhouse stood next to it. Two uniformed German soldiers were talking to each other and occasionally looking around, but they seemed bored, their weapons held casually in their hands.

  “I don’t see any way to get over it,” he said.

  “No, not with those guards so close.”

  “What were you asking that farmer? A place with a large garden?”

  “Yes. It’s one of our safe routes. The fence goes right through the middle of a garden shared by two brothers. One brother is on the Belgian side, the other on the Netherlands side. The brother on the Netherlands side puts a ladder over the fence so people can cross.”

  “Do you know where this place is?”

  “Not precisely.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I don’t know. I think it’s south of here, but since I don’t know where here is...”

  “Why put a fence through the middle of a garden?”

  “You’d have to ask the Germans.”

  From her tone he discerned that she was lumping all Germans into one pot. “I’m German.”

  “Obviously not you.”

  “Most of us hate what is going on. Some of us are just following orders. A very few of us believe that war is necessary to regain our lost territories, dignity and ensure the prosperity of our people.”

  The expression on her face turned rueful. “I apologize. You’re right, only a small number of people are responsible for what the German military is doing in this war. Just as only a small number of people are responsible for what the British, French and Belgian militaries are doing.”

  He arched an eyebrow at her. “You sound like a diplomat.”

  “I’ve had to be.”

  She was right. Necessity had demanded she be diplomatic, apologetic and careful of every word, every action. And yet, when presented with the danger of helping her fellow man, she hadn’t blinked, just soldiered on with no complaint or excuse.

  “You didn’t have to be anything. You could have gone home at the beginning of the war. Others did, but you chose to stay. You chose to take on work most would have run from. Why?”

  * * *

  How could Rose explain to him that it was her nature to want to help? She could have chosen no other course of action, no other outcomes, than those she’d undertaken.

  “How could I possibly leave my student nurses to fend for themselves?” she countered. “You didn’t come to work at our hospital until two months into the war, after our founder had been killed. They weren’t ready to deal with wartime casualties, suspicious military officers or a chronic lack of supplies. They’d have broken and run. I stayed because my nurses and the wounded needed me. I stayed because that’s what a teacher does.”

  “Duty didn’t compel you?”

  “Of course it did, but what duty means to one person is completely different for another.”

  “It’s not a simple thing, is it?”

  “No. Neither is why you chose to save me. I’m sure duty had a great deal to do with it, along with friendship and the fact that you’re a good man with a healthy conscience.”

  “You make me sound like a paragon.”

  “You’re the finest man I know.”

  He snorted. “An easy position to win these days.”

  “I disagree. It would have been easy for you to follow your orders and go back to work after I had been arrested, but you didn’t.”

  “Any man who could allow the murder of an innocent when he had an opportunity to prevent it is no man at all.”

  Gratitude formed a lump in her throat and she had to work to swallow it down. “It’s going to get dark soon. We have no food or water. What should we do?”

  “Let’s find another farm. Once it’s dark, we can drink from their well without anyone the wiser. If they’ve got a barn or shed, we might be able to sneak inside to sleep for a few hours.”

  They walked for another hour or two, keeping the fence in sight and watching out for other people and soldiers. It took a while before they found a farm in a good location, with enough buildings that they could slip into one unnoticed.

  The farm they chose had a house, barn and several sheds of varying sizes. The well was located close to the barn and watering troughs for a few aging cows and a couple of sheep. This place hadn’t fared as well as the one they’d stopped at earlier.

  They entered
the barn through a narrow back door. Rose went up to the hayloft while Herman snuck out to get some water. A few minutes later he joined her with a beaten and weathered metal cup filled with water.

  “Drink it all,” he ordered. “I’ve already had my fill.”

  She downed the whole thing.

  “Do you want more?”

  “No, not now. Perhaps later.” She shifted some of the hay around until she’d made a nest on the far side of the pile, away from the ladder leading up to the space—and hopefully anyone who might come up to this level. “Now that we’re not moving, I can’t seem to keep my eyes open.”

  “Then don’t. Sleep.”

  She nodded, curled up on the hay and closed her eyes.

  Herman crawled in and spooned behind her, then pulled some hay over both of them.

  Sleep rushed towards her faster than a train and she fell headlong into it.

  * * *

  The sound of scuffing wood woke her suddenly. Something nudged her foot. Pushed at it again a little harder this time. Herman’s warmth was gone. A voice whispered a name. Hers.

  Rose sat up, brushing away the straw from her face, her heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings in flight. A man crouched near her feet. His German officer’s uniform bore evidence of his rank, but it was his face she stared at. A scar traced its way across his cheek. His was the sort of face one never forgot.

  “Captain Lawrence, how—” she began to say, but he interrupted her.

  “This is not where I would have expected to find you, Rose Culver.” His tight mouth relaxed into a smile.

  “Nor I you, Captain. What are you doing here?”

  “You’re a wanted woman. The Germans have circulated an arrest warrant for you. There is even a reward for information leading to your capture. You were reported at a farm not far from here.”

  “Damn.” Herman had been right. “How did you find me so quickly?”

  “The farmer here is part of the underground. He saw a woman and a man hiding in the trees and sent a message via carrier pigeon asking if we were expecting anyone on the Netherlands side. I had just gotten anther message about you and figured it was too much of a coincidence. Who is travelling with you?”

  “My husband. He was with me when I went to sleep, but I don’t know where he is now.”