“Come on, Claudia. I can walk and talk to people.”
“But this isn’t an assignment as a tour guide, Josef. There’s an American staying at the guesthouse for a month who needs a driver and translator while here in Germany.”
A driver. The word settled on Josef’s skin like acid. On his last drive through town, his heart pattered erratically and perspiration moistened his temples. He’d slammed on the brakes each time movement in his peripheral caught his attention, and drivers behind him beeped their anger. Then his brain froze toward the end of his drive, as images of the car accident bombarded him from all angles. Not that he remembered the crash, but he’d seen pictures in several French newspapers.
“I know you’ve been taking the tram to work,” Claudia said softly. “It’s okay to be afraid of driving after such a thing happens.”
“So? I take the tram because it’s easier than finding parking,” he lied, but the bigger lie was the agony worming through him every single day.
A woman had died while he drove, and he couldn’t remember a damn thing about what happened. He’d survived the accident, but Lily had not. But here was a chance to return to normal…
“Really, Claudia.” He tried to sound strong. “I can handle driving.”
Claudia remained silent long enough to make him uncomfortable, then said, “I know you’d try. You’re the most fearless man I know. But there’ll be a passenger, a paying client.”
If she knew the level of his angst and the horror each time he got behind the wheel, she wouldn’t have offered the job. Shadowed images from the accident stalked him like invisible demons, instilling fear in his bones and reminding him that whatever caused the crash was lost in the black hole of his mind.
Who was he kidding? He was half the man he used to be. Self-hatred chomped away at his soul. He’d finally been handed a chance to get back on his feet, and instead he toyed with the idea of raising a flag of surrender.
“On second thought, this doesn’t sound very exciting. Maybe I should pass.” Liar. He was terrified.
Claudia nodded. “Gut.” She took the cordless phone from the base. “I’ll pass the opportunity over to Rüdesheimer Travel.”
The panic of missing an opportunity settled in his bones. This job could be the thing to bring normalcy back to his life. Help him overcome those nasty demons greeting him each morning. He reached out, touched her arm. “Nein.”
Claudia stopped dialing, looked at him. “It’s okay if you are not ready.”
“I know.” He drew in a sharp breath. “I need to do this.”
She blinked a few times then nodded. “Okay. Call Regina and let her know, but at any time if the driving becomes too much, you will say so. Understand?”
“Ja, ja, boss.” He grinned, so she’d see confidence, not the apprehension he felt inside.
She eyed him suspiciously, then returned to her office.
He drew in a deep breath that traveled to the nerves rippling inside his gut. By taking this assignment, he hoped to fix himself, but was he putting someone else’s life at risk? God forbid he flipped out or panicked on the highway. If only he knew what had made him swerve…
But how could he ever gain confidence in himself again if he didn’t try? His entire life, he’d never shied from challenges. Just like his father. Now, his knees wobbled at the prospect of driving a woman around Germany. All because cars were his kryptonite. But so what? He’d be careful, even practice driving before the job started. He could do it!
He dialed the Villa Von Essen, and agreed when they asked if he could come over that afternoon to meet the new client.
After he hung up, he shuffled paperwork. The office phones rang, and his coworkers talked amongst themselves, but the sounds were muted by the thump of his pulse in his ears. A lump grew in his throat along with a fuzzy image of Lily, dead in the passenger’s seat of his car.
Was it a real memory or imaginary? He didn’t know. But as the driver, he took full responsibility for her death, and he’d never forgive himself.
Chapter 3
Anna stood on the small balcony off her room and watched a passenger ship drift down the sparkling waters of the Rhine when a woman dressed in a short skirt hurried down a path on the side of the guesthouse building. Her hip-high leather jacket flapped behind her.
A man appeared on the ground below. “Tschüss, Karen,” he yelled.
The blonde spun around and her long mane sashayed like a wedding gown train. “I already said goodbye, Florian,” she said with a pleasant British accent. “You’re going to make me late for work.”
“But you forgot something.” He trotted over to her, wrapped her in his arms, and kissed her with the passion of Rhett Butler leaving Scarlett, then they talked quietly, still clutched in their embrace.
A kiss like so many she’d shared with Patrick early in their courtship. Where the heat of his gaze left her with no doubt they’d have a happily ever after. Over the course of their marriage, Patrick never stopped offering her romantic moments like the kind these two lovebirds shared. His abuse, however, added to her confused feelings toward him. After a while, she’d forced herself to respond to his overtures like an actress playing a role, just so she didn’t upset him. Even in their bedroom.
The couple parted. As the man turned to head back inside, he glanced up and peered at Anna through his thick, dark-framed glasses.
“Guten Morgen.” He smiled warmly, and his handlebar mustache twitched at the twirled corners.
“Good morning.”
“I bet you are the new guest from America.”
“I am.”
“My name is Florian. I run the Von Essen Restaurant and Biergarten. See you at breakfast?”
“I’ll be right down.”
His long legs carried him across the patio, and he disappeared through the restaurant doors.
She quickly freshened up, changed into clean jeans and a pullover, then left the room.
Taking the burgundy-carpeted staircase to the main entrance, Anna followed the sound of voices along with the smell of food down a hallway decorated with pictures of castles on the river. Just as she passed through an arched opening marked Restaurant & Biergarten, loud voices traveled down the hallway from where she’d just entered. A disagreement, but she couldn’t understand since they spoke in their native tongue.
A couple entered the room but didn’t notice her and kept arguing. The man’s face was long and slim like his body, his nose prominent as an eagle’s beak. He towered over the short woman at his side. Yet it was the woman who stood out. The top layer of her silver curls had been dyed pink. Not passive pink, but eye-blinding, earth-shaking pink. The no-nonsense tone of her grainy voice, combined with the sour expression on his whiskered face, suggested she might have the upper hand in their passionate discussion.
He spotted Anna first and said something to his companion, who glanced at Anna and stopped talking.
“Good morning,” Anna said quickly. “I’m new here.”
The man extended a hand. “Otto Braun. Joachim mentioned a new guest would be here today.”
Anna reached out to shake, but Otto took her hand and brought it to his lips. His salt-and-pepper mustache tickled her skin while his coal-black eyes made contact with hers. “Welcome to Mainz. This is my wife, Ruth.”
Ruth elbowed her husband. “Stop flirting, you old fool. Do not mind him,” she said to Anna. “He is an old man, wishing he was young again.”
Otto blurted out a loud laugh. “That is rich coming from you after what you did to your hair yesterday. Was that not a desperate cry for youth?”
She lifted her silver brows. “Of course it was. That is the point I wanted to make. Society does not even notice an old woman like me. I changed my hair to make a statement.”
“It’s a gorgeous color.” Anna envied the woman’s gusto and wished sh
e’d had the guts to speak as directly to Patrick from the start of their marriage.
“Danke, dear.” Ruth’s dark eyes sparkled like a mischievous teenager’s, her attitude defying the gentle crepe of her skin. “There is a saying…better to be absolutely ridiculous than be absolutely boring. At my age, I will go for ridiculous.”
“But, darling…” Otto put one of his long arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “You did not need to change your hair. You are never boring and always beautiful to me.”
Ruth lifted a hand to the gray bristles of his cheek. “And you, liebe, are a charmer. No wonder I fell for you even after I’d sworn off all men.”
The love between them was evident in the way they looked at each other. If only the disagreements between her and Patrick ended so amicably, Anna might still be home.
Otto stepped forward. “Come and meet the others.” The couple linked arms and headed to a rectangular table with quite a few people already seated.
She was introduced to the long-term houseguests, more names than she could remember. As she got seated, Joachim hurried out from behind a swinging door, carrying a clear coffee carafe. He’d run off when they returned from the airport, mumbling something about how his work at the guesthouse never ended.
His eyes landed on Anna. “I see you met the others,” he said while pouring coffee into an empty mug at her place setting. “Good news. My wife just arranged for a guide to meet you this afternoon.”
“Oh.” So soon? She wasn’t quite prepared to talk to someone, but maybe the person could help her figure out how to begin the search for Gunther. “Thank you.”
She reached into her back pocket for her phone to check for messages from Patrick. High-pitched barking stopped her, and all conversation at the table. Heads turned to the patio entrance.
“Nein!” barked a plump, older man holding two leashed, longhaired dachshunds.
The dogs quieted and the man entered, taking inventory of the table from behind wire-rimmed glasses sitting crooked on his bulbous nose. Two red suspenders pressed to his plaid shirt secured his large gut.
“Guten Morgen, Max,” said a few of the guests.
He grumbled a reply in German and walked around the table with a frown on his face as he headed to an empty seat near Anna.
Ruth put out a hand to stop him and said something.
He looked at Anna, frown set in stone. “Hallo, Fräulein.”
“Hello.” The dogs stared up at Anna, their chocolate eyes friendly and eager, like they had something urgent to tell her. She reached down and petted their heads, but it was their owner she wanted to see smile. “Who have we here?”
“Please meet Ricky”—he pointed to the black-haired dog—“and Lucy.”
Lucy’s reddish-brown fur and Ricky’s black mimicked their namesakes. Anna greeted the dogs by name, making their long, thin tails wag. Patrick had never wanted pets, though she’d once dared to ask for a puppy or kitten to keep her company while working at home. A stern shake of his head had answered the request, and she hadn’t dared to persist.
“Hmph.” Their owner’s gaze swept over the scene with an assessing eye. “Seems they are glad to meet you.” He took a seat nearby, stared at Anna for a moment, then smiled. “Can you pass me the sausage? Lucy and Ricky are starving.”
She handed off a large platter and gave him a smile back, satisfied to see him less grumpy. He took a hefty serving for himself then broke one into pieces and gave it to the dogs then turned away from them and considered Anna for a beat. “My name is Max.”
“Nice to meet you, Max. I’m Anna.”
Plates were passed, food shared. Anna relaxed, despite the hectic pace. Guests conversed using both German and English, the small group acting as comfortable as family. She listened politely to the conversations she didn’t understand, thankful for dispersed bits of translation from Ruth.
By the end of the meal, she’d learned Ruth and Otto were also writers and taught classes on the subject at the nearby university. Max tended to speak to others in conversations that included his dogs, and everybody whispered with curiosity about Florian’s latest romantic interest, Karen, who attended the university and worked in a local dress shop. And much to Anna’s surprise, they all knew she’d come to find a man who’d saved her friend from the Nazis. No doubt because Joachim told them.
They operated like a family, and families didn’t have secrets. This group of kindhearted and curious strangers was no exception.
* * * *
Anna sat on the side of her bed, still groggy from her short nap. Enough sleep to keep her awake for the day and get her body in sync with German time after the overnight flight. She reached to the pretty white nightstand next to her bed, took her phone, and turned it on. Her first day in Germany and Patrick’s final day in Florida. Tomorrow morning kicked off the workweek, and he’d return to New York. She’d be holding her breath all day, anticipating the delivery of those papers.
She stared at the phone, waiting, her nerves raw as she wondered if he’d tried to reach her. He liked to keep her guessing about when—even if—he’d call. Sometimes when traveling, he’d be gone for days without a word. Other times he’d call multiple times a day.
All that popped up was a text from her sister asking if she’d landed. She replied, I did. Will catch up soon.
The conversation she’d had with Jenna while at the airport left her uneasy. With Anna’s marital problems out in the open, Jenna confessed she’d thought Patrick often acted “too nice” with Anna, to the point it didn’t seem genuine. She wasn’t wrong. Abusers behaved that way, to throw their victims off-balance.
But one other thing Jenna had said left Anna shocked.
“You were smart to disappear before he got served,” Jenna had said. “Men like him have been known to kill their wives, if angry enough.”
Several times in the past six months, Anna had threatened to file for divorce. Each time, Patrick begged her not to leave. Pitiful displays of crying and promises, at first. A few months ago, though, when he’d woken in a horrible mood and she’d turned into his punching bag, she’d threatened again. That time, he’d turned ugly, angrier than she’d ever seen him. She’d worn turtlenecks for two weeks to hide the bruises on her throat. From that day forward, bringing up divorce carried a new risk.
What if Patrick’s rage had room to grow?
For too long she’d taken a chance that the once sweet, reasonable guy who’d worshipped the ground she walked on remained inside his soul. But maybe he never really existed.
Shame crashed against her chest over all the times she’d softened from his apologies instead of walking out the door. Where was the spirited woman who’d spent her first thirty-three years embracing what life had to offer? How had the adoration of one man stolen every part of her self-worth? Or was she broken before Patrick, and he’d detected her weakness and taken advantage?
Damned if she knew the answers, but she was determined to restore her damaged pieces. The pieces of her Patrick had crushed, choked, and beaten into submission.
Chapter 4
Josef swiped his car keys off the coffee table and opened the front door to leave the apartment. Two steps out, his throbbing leg sent him back inside. He grabbed the cane off his bed and left again.
The car accident had left aches in places he’d never once thought about before. Most of them had disappeared, but not the pain in his leg, the worst of his injuries. The surgeon had made a big fuss about him using the cane to ease his discomfort and aid in healing.
He often wondered if he subconsciously forgot it on purpose. The object reminded him he was no longer the spry guy who’d lived for the thrill of physical challenges. Each time he used it, he morphed into an eighty-one-year-old with a bad attitude.
On his way across the apartment complex’s grass courtyard, he chanted in his head, What does not kil
l me makes me stronger. He said the phrase over and over until some of the anguish simmering since Claudia had offered him this assignment lifted.
Six months ago, when he’d left the hospital, he’d said the mantra at least ten times a day. Improvement with his injuries was slow, though, and he’d given up on the internal pep talks until now. He needed to shake off the dust, show both Claudia and that nitpicky doctor he deserved to be out touring again.
“Sinbad. Komm her Miezekatze. Meow. Meow.”
Mrs. Freudenberger shuffled down a sidewalk in front of the apartments, still dressed in her bathrobe and slippers, though it was mid-afternoon. She leaned over to look beneath a bush and her white curls bounced upside down.
Not again. Josef glanced at his watch. He’d given himself plenty of time to test his driving abilities on the way over to the Villa Von Essen, hoping the lighter Sunday traffic would ease his transition behind the wheel.
He walked toward his neighbor. “Can’t find Sinbad again, Mrs. Freudenberger?”
She stood upright, and her anxious face brightened. “Oh, Josef. My cat is gone. Do you see him anywhere? He’s always off on an adventure.” She smiled and patted his arm affectionately. “Like you.”
He laughed. “Lucky cat. My adventure days are on hold.” She tilted her head and her eyebrows furrowed, even though he’d explained to her about his accident the last few times he’d helped her find her pet. “Did you look carefully in your apartment?” He offered an elbow to help her get back home, where he’d found the cat last time. “He seems to like hiding under your living room chair.”
“Oh, I’m not sure if I checked there.” She put her hand on his arm, and he tucked it close as they slowly walked toward her open apartment door.
Josef felt certain he’d find Sinbad inside. The cat was no more of a wanderer than he was these days.
Once inside, he kneeled next to the chair, lifted the gold fabric skirt, and found two glowing eyes staring back at him.
“Hello there, Sinbad.” Josef stuck his arm underneath, guided the large tabby to the edge, and lifted him out. As he handed the feline over to Mrs. Freudenberger, he glanced around. Dirty dishes on the kitchen table. Milk left out. Unwashed pots on the stovetop.
Saving Anna Page 3