Friends & Enemies (Promise for Tomorrow Book 1)

by Terri Wangard

  “Four? I would have guessed no less than six months.” She inclined her head. “I have a dachshund at home.”

  “You don’t live around here, do you?”

  She shouldn’t have mentioned home. “No, I’m on my way to my parents’ home. To check on them, you see.” Max rolled over. “Oh, you want a belly rub, hmm?” Heidi gave his tummy a quick scratch. “You’re such a sweetheart.”

  “Sweetheart?” The boy’s face puckered.

  Whoops. Wrong thing to call a pre-pubescent boy’s dog. She straightened up, and her legs complained. She’d definitely ridden too far in one day. Max sat up, his tail wagging. Heidi gave him a final pat, and flashed a quick smile at the boy. “Good evening.”

  She strode for the road. Behind her, the boy said, “Come on, Max. Let’s go home.” With a hand up to fuss with her hair, she took a quick backward glance. Good. They wouldn’t pass Paul.

  As she made her way back to him, he rose, his shoulders drooping. “No point in waiting. No one else is around. Let’s go eat.”

  Had she slowed him down on the long bicycle ride? Or did the contact avoid him because he wasn’t alone? What a mess. Sneaking around like they were criminals was an awful way to live.

  Paul took her arm. “How’d it go with the dog walker?”

  Heidi put her hand over his. “I’m reminded of our senior year history teacher. Remember Mr. Gilland? He always said, ‘You’re putting your foot in your mouth.’ Here, it’s open your mouth, spew out a minefield. If you mention home, someone will ask where home is. We have to weigh everything we say.”

  “A minefield.” Paul chuckled. “An apt description.” He pulled open the door of the guesthouse.

  Once inside, Heidi paused. The place was packed. A heavy cloud of cigarette smoke caused her eyes to water. The crowd was surprising, but then, here people could forget the war. In the corner, musicians played an accordion, violin, bass fiddle, and piano while a few couples danced. Laughter and conversation filled the room. She touched Paul’s arm. “I need to look for a water closet.”

  Three women waited ahead of her. This was a bad time to make Paul wait long. She nearly gave up, but who knew when she’d have another opportunity? She tried not to keep glancing at her wristwatch.

  The toilet and sink were clean, but there was no soap. Not that she’d expected any. Soap was a rare luxury these days. Splashing water on her face helped, even if it didn’t exactly clean her. She’d braided her hair for their bicycling and coiled the braids at her nape. They could stay that way. She returned to the main room.

  Paul was nowhere in sight. A man alone would probably go to the bar in back. She made her way around the room’s edge, studying the patrons standing there. One man hunched over on a stool. As she got closer, she heard him sing. He’d been imbibing too long. His words slurred.

  “Lili Marlene… Excuse me,” he leaned too close to the man next to him, nearly bumping his nose on the man’s face. “Do you know the rest of the song?”

  Shock waves reverberated down to Heidi’s toes. Paul was the drunk! How could that be? She’d been away ten minutes, fifteen at the most. He couldn’t have gotten drunk that fast. Unless he faked his condition.

  The man beside him leaned away. “Go home and get some sleep.”

  “Go home.” Paul nodded, but then his face crumpled. “I don’t have a home. It’s all gone.” Soon he’d be sobbing in his beer.

  She hurried to him. “Horst, what are you doing?”

  “Lili!” He swung around to face her and nearly swayed right off the stool. Horrors, he must really be drunk.

  “Horst, you’ve had too much to drink. Come along now. Let’s go.”

  “Go where, Lili? They’re dead, you know.” A tiny grin crept into his lips before he dragged his sleeve across his face. “All dead.”

  He was sober after all! Heidi pinched his arm. “Let’s go, Horst.”

  His wavering hand tried to point to the door as he lurched to his feet. He grabbed his stein of beer and shoved it into her hands. Froth sloshed onto her fingers. The stein was nearly overflowing. He led the way to a far table, his stride growing steadier with each step. Once seated, he wore a serious expression. “I thought you got lost. Did you notice the man on the other side of me? He’s trouble. Gripe, gripe, gripe. Either he’s truly disgruntled or he’s a plant trying to incriminate others with defeatist remarks. I half expected a heavy hand to land on my shoulder and someone say, ‘You’re under arrest.’”

  “What about the man behind the counter? Did he know you weren’t drunk?”

  “Sure he did. I think he would have joined me in song if he wasn’t on duty. He didn’t seem pleased with the griper.” Paul’s posture sagged in weariness, but his eyes never stopped roving about the room.

  A serving girl offered them bread, potato soup, and sauerkraut. The repast tasted heavenly. A full belly made the shock and tension of the day less awful. Heidi grinned when Paul wrinkled his nose over the sauerkraut. She leaned forward and whispered, “For a German, your dislike of sauerkraut is astonishing.”

  “It’s pungent enough to curl my teeth.” He gulped down his last mouthful. “How do you feel about sleeping under the stars? We can be grateful it’s not raining.”

  Sleeping with bugs crawling on her was an awful idea. She sighed. Paul was right. Renting a room would require showing identification they didn’t want to display more than necessary, and using their limited funds.

  Two men took seats at a neighboring table as they were about to leave. Double lightning bolt insignia decorated their collars. Gestapo. Paul laid a hand over hers. To jump up now, like she wanted to, would attract their attention.

  The men didn’t try to have a private conversation. “New orders were telephoned from Boppard to keep a watch out for a Heidi Steinhorst or Heidi Wetzel, a blue-eyed blonde suspected of aiding an enemy airman.”

  The carelessly spoken words sucked all the air out of Heidi. The Gestapo was looking for her. Rudy hadn’t found her or Paul in Sankt Goar or Rhens, so he’d thrown out a wider net. He must not have believed Konrad and Gretchen. Would he arrest them? Her vision blurred. She couldn’t get any air into her lungs. She was about to faint.

  Paul rose and stepped between the two tables, blocking their view of her. He helped her to her feet like any courteous gentleman, but his grip on her arm tightened like steel. He propelled her out the door.

  Somewhere, a bird still twittered. A breeze fanned her hot face. Her lungs opened up and she sucked in air. Her vision cleared. The ringing in her ears subsided. A sliver of moon played peek-a-boo behind a wispy cloud. Shadowy buildings still stood around the market square. Treis-Karden bore no evidence of the earthquake that shattered her soul. “What do I do now? Hagen’s probably being watched.”

  Paul led her to a darkened doorway. He stood still, watchful. Then he pulled her against him, his hand pressing her head to his shoulder, his thumb massaging the side of her forehead. “You’ll come with me.”

  “To Cochem?”

  “To England.”

  To England? But she was German.

  “You have to get out of Germany now, Heidi, as much as I do. More than I do.”

  Something beyond her caught his attention and a slow smile grew as he surveyed the area. No one else was around. He grabbed her hand and led her to a motorcycle with a sidecar. Leaning over it, he fiddled with something until the sidecar disconnected.

  “What are you doing? This probably belongs to the Gestapo men.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping.” He wheeled the motorcycle around and set a brisk pace down the lane toward the river. “By leaving that, they’re less likely to suspect a couple borrowed this.”

  Heidi hurried along beside him. Her mind must be foggy. This couldn’t be happening, not really. Stealing a Gestapo motorcycle could spell trouble in so many different ways.

  They arrived at the road following the river. When a distant truck ground its gears, Paul jumped on the motorcycle and started it
with a roar. He reversed his backpack to his front. “Hop on.”

  She hopped on, her skirt riding up her thighs. She wrapped her arms around Paul’s waist and settled her head on his back as they buzzed down the road, heading west.

  She was riding a stolen Gestapo motorcycle, going to England with Paul. Whatever Lieselotte had packed for her, it couldn’t be much. Not for an extended stay in a foreign country. An enemy country. What if England wouldn’t let her in?

  Chapter Fifty

  Western Germany

  Same Day

  The motorcycle’s headlight had been masked, allowing only a horizontal slit of light to show through. Phosphorescent paint marked the edge of the roadway at infrequent intervals. Paul squinted into the darkness. A full moon would sure be helpful. Cochem lay a few miles downriver, providing innumerable opportunities for accidents along the winding road.

  He had to take Heidi to England. The thought had never occurred to him when he arrived in Germany that he would disrupt her life so completely. Oh, he didn’t mind her company. Not at all. She was a great gal. Right now she was in shock, but she’d come out of it and her gumption would renew her fighting spirit. She could handle this. Not like Rachel.

  His thoughts skidded. That was unfair. How could he compare the two? Rachel was a quiet, gentle soul who thrived on order and routine. This flight from the German police would have appalled her. She would have complied with Nazi rules to avoid trouble.

  Heidi, on the other hand, thrived on adventure and spontaneity. No one could get bored with her around.

  Now wait a minute, what was he thinking? Would he have gotten bored with Rachel? If they hadn’t been inseparable growing up together, would he have considered marrying her? Livvy in Florida had been more like Rachel. She was a pleasant girl, but he’d had no desire to pursue more than a casual friendship. Maybe he hadn’t been ready at that time, but he still had no feelings for her. But Heidi? Yes, if he was honest, he could see them together. He wasn’t just planning on getting her to England. He would see her back to Milwaukee.

  She’d been quiet since they started their ride. She hadn’t dozed off, for her grip around his waist hadn’t relaxed.

  The road veered away from the river, heading up into hills. He stayed on the road without hesitation. This river had more corkscrew curves than a wine cellar. No problem. With the motorcycle, they’d get to Cochem that much faster.

  Heidi woke with a start. Engine noise had filled her ears since they’d left Treis-Karden. The sudden cessation of sound roused her. She raised her head.

  Paul twisted around. “How’re you doing?”

  “Just fine and dandy. What do you think?” She could have cheerfully bitten her tongue for uttering such a tart reply. Paul had been thinking for two ever since she’d turned into a simpleton at hearing her name on the Gestapo agent’s lips. “Where are we?”

  Paul coasted the motorcycle off the road. “I’m not sure exactly. We rejoined the river after going through those hills, and the river does a switchback here. I recall from the map that the Mosel jinks back and forth twice in quick succession. Cochem’s at the first jink, and this would be the second. So Cochem should be north about three miles. Until daylight, though, it doesn’t make sense to stumble around. I think we should find a secluded area to sink the motorcycle, and then find a nice spot to get some sleep. I’m too tired to think straight, and that’s imperative.”

  “Sink the motorcycle?”

  “It’s nearly out of gas and will become a detriment. We don’t want anyone finding it.”

  Heidi lowered her right foot and swung her left leg over the back. And nearly collapsed. Her thighs had cramped from holding their rigid position. And this after bicycling all day. Riding a horse was easier. She walked stiff-legged in circles, stretched down to touch her toes, and yawned. “I could use a nap.”

  Paul chuckled as he rifled through a saddlebag fastened to the seat. He pulled out a wad and handed it to her. “Bring that into the light and let’s see what we can use.”

  He switched the headlight back on.

  “Toilet tissue.” The words sighed out of her.

  She dumped everything back into Paul’s hand and caressed the half-used package.

  He laughed outright. “The simple things of life bring the most pleasure. Let’s see. We have a pen. Extra ration coupons. Think they got them legitimately? A rag. What is this? Brass knuckles? A torture device? That can stay with the bike. A flashlight.” That one brought excitement into his voice. He turned it into his stomach and flicked it on. A bright circle glowed around the edge.

  “Excellent. And look here. Binoculars.” They disappeared into his pack.

  After sending the motorcycle into the river with a satisfying splash, they climbed a hill partway. Better to view approaching danger from higher up. Paul’s explanation sent shivers through her. They bedded down under a pine tree, using their backpacks as pillows, but sleep wouldn’t come.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m going to drag you down. One can escape easier than two. I’ll be a millstone around your neck.” Tears leaked from her eyes, and her nose was getting stuffy.

  “No.” Paul’s voice was firm. “Two are better than one. If they fall down, they can help each other up. One may be overpowered, but two can defend themselves. And God is on our side. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken. Solomon wrote that in Ecclesiastes. Claim that, Heidi.”

  “What about my family?” She turned in his direction. “Will I ever see them again?”

  “Sure you will. The war can’t last forever. Germany can’t last much longer. Less than a year is my guess.”

  “They’ll think I’m dead.”

  “We’ll get word to them. The Cochem contact is in touch with Konrad. He’ll tell him.” Paul was silent for a moment. “Although Konrad may not tell the others, for safety’s sake. Gretchen can’t spill the beans that way.”

  “Why did Karla betray us? She had to know her letter would be opened. Wolfgang’s letters to her have been censored.”

  “You told me his family is Nazi, and she may have Nazi sympathies.”

  “But to betray us? Her much-loved cousins?” Heidi propped herself up on an elbow. “Wolfgang wrote how well fed and comfortable they are in the Wisconsin prison camp. That should have made her more favorable to helping an American. She’s not a vicious person.”

  Paul’s hand found hers on the ground. He gave it a squeeze. “The Nazi-inspired madness that overtook Germany may have infected her. Remember studying the Civil War in high school? I find myself thinking of that a lot. Brother against brother, friend against friend. Choose different sides and the family’s torn apart. The same is true here. Nazis against anti-Nazis.” He yawned, and patted her hand. “There’s a reason for the saying ‘don’t discuss religion or politics’. Too divisive.”

  Soon his even breathing indicated he slept. She slipped her hand free of his and curled into a ball. The war could be over in less than a year. That was still a long time. She should be home tonight to read to the children and tuck them in bed. She ached to hold Lina.

  And what about Rudy? When he didn’t find them in Rhens, he put out a bulletin on her, and probably he’d go back to Bickenbach. She wouldn’t be there, and Gretchen’s story would be suspect. She might survive the war, but what about her sister? And Konrad. He would certainly be implicated. Would he tell Rudy that she’d gone back to Hagen to get away from him? Rudy would arrest him for the fun of it.

  She might never see her siblings again.

  But she couldn’t have done anything differently. Betray Paul? Never. He was Rachel’s husband. And her friend.

  Tears slipped from her eyes and she reached back for Paul’s hand. She wasn’t alone, and God was with them in this valley of the shadow of death. Repeating that often enough allowed her to drift into sleep.

  “Hoo-ah!”

  Heidi jerked awake. The Gestapo had found them! She stared into the darkness. She couldn
’t hear over the pounding of her heart.

  A minute passed. Two. No more sounds. No beams of a flashlight.

  Even so, she didn’t move. Nothing to give away their position. Paul still slept. How could he not have heard that? She hadn’t been dreaming.

  “Hoo-ah.” The sound was more distant now. Some silly nocturnal bird.

  Her head dropped back on her pack. Of all the…

  Silence reigned. Her heartbeat slowed. Breathing became easier. She scrubbed her eyes. It would be a very long night if every little sound disturbed her.

  She felt around in Paul’s direction. He was still there. Her breath swooshed out.

  Sleep, Heidi, sleep. You need your rest.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Western Germany

  Friday, June 16, 1944

  Paul stretched and opened his eyes. The sun hadn’t risen yet. Birds sang overhead in the boughs of a pine. One boldly hopped on the ground nearby. He swiveled his head. Heidi lay curled beside him.

  A jolt of adrenalin got his blood pumping. They were on the way to England and they’d missed the first contact. He sat up, sending the bird into flight. Hunger gnawed at his stomach, but they had no food.

  First order of business, though, was to determine their location. Good thing he was a navigator, skilled with maps. This shouldn’t be hard. He grabbed his pack and headed for a clearing. He smiled at the sight that met him. Yep, just as he suspected, they were at a sharp bend in the Mosel. Crossing the river would be their first obstacle. Too bad there wasn’t a bridge around here.

  He fished Konrad’s contact sheet from his pant leg hem. What trust Konrad placed in him! Listed here were contacts in a couple of locations. Heidi had said underground members didn’t know anyone beyond their closest contacts, but Konrad did. He must be high up in the organization. At least when he lived in Hagen.

  Paul studied the list. Depending on the direction of his flight, he’d be sure to find one of them. He paused. Cochem didn’t appear on the list. Along the river, the next contact after Treis-Karden was in Ellenz-Poltersdorf. He snapped open his map and traced a finger along the blue line of the Mosel. Bingo! Better and better. He went back for Heidi.