Friends & Enemies (Promise for Tomorrow Book 1)

by Terri Wangard

  A bird’s trill penetrated Heidi’s sleep and she opened her eyes. The sight of trees overhead brought yesterday’s events crashing in on her. She was running for her life with Paul Braedel, heading for England. She sat up and looked around. Paul was nowhere in sight. Fear tried to raise its head but she pushed it down. He must be taking care of private business.

  Her hair felt messy, but she left it in the braids. Her dress was wrinkled, but the one in her pack wouldn’t be any better. They did have that lovely toilet paper. Before Paul came back, she’d make use of it.

  Paul sat against a tree waiting when she returned. “Good morning. Ready for a hike today?”

  He looked good with his hair neatly combed, and he must have shaved. She, meanwhile, looked like an urchin.

  “Where are we hiking to? Do we have to cross the river?”

  “In time. Our contact is in Ellenz-Poltersdorf, a couple miles downriver. It’s on the opposite side, but that doesn’t matter for now. First, we need to find something to eat and make our way to Beiltstein, which is across the river from E-P. There we’ll figure out how we’ll cross.” He smiled. “After yesterday’s physical and mental excursion, a leisurely pace isn’t all bad. But first, let’s pray.”

  Paul calmly talked to God as if nothing was amiss. Their heavenly Father was bigger than any problems they might run into. She needed to remember that simple fact all the time instead of letting worry run away with her.

  Avoiding attention remained a concern. Walking through the wooded hills rather than the cultivated land along the river made sense. They didn’t tarry until they discovered a patch of wild berries. Breakfast was served.

  With the two towns in sight, Paul studied the river through the binoculars. “I see a rowboat pulled up on the shore with no one around. It doesn’t appear to be developed property.” He lowered the glasses. “Think we can help ourselves?”

  Another theft, or borrowing, as he’d put it last night. She rotated her shoulders. That might be okay for him, but she wasn’t an enemy. “What about that ferry further down?”

  Paul handed her the binoculars. “Watch the gatekeeper. He appears vigilant.”

  The ferry had just pulled away from the Beilstein dock. Even after allowing passengers to board, the attendant went from one person to the next, speaking with each one. “We need a good story if anyone asks where we’re going.” She looked across the river. “There appears to be another rowboat where this one would pull in.”

  “An unofficial ferry service. Let’s go.”

  No one disturbed them when they shoved off or when they arrived on the opposite shore. She smiled. That’s what Paul had prayed for the day he arrived in Bickenbach. Blind the eyes of those who would betray them. Somehow, Karla had slipped through a celestial crack, but they were still safe.

  Most towns were similar, with a central market square. “Watch for Karlstrasse 18. It’s supposed to be just off the square.”

  Paul’s memory was an amazing gift.

  “There it is. Number eighteen is a grocer.”

  “Good.” Paul rubbed his hands together in an unusual display of nervousness. “Why don’t I go in alone, just in case? Hopefully everything will work out and we’ll be on our way.”

  Heidi watched him walk down the alley and enter the store. ‘Just in case.’ It sounded so ominous. Through the window, she watched him speak another prearranged phrase to someone, step back, pivot, then move further in. Something wasn’t right. A minute passed and he came back out. His smile looked strained.

  He inclined his head to retrace their steps. “She wasn’t the contact. Probably his wife, from the way she said to come back tomorrow. She knows what he’s up to.” He held up his hands, revealing a jar and a box. “I bought lunch. Zwieback and peas. No coupons required. We can return the empty jar tomorrow.”

  “Should we stay here in Ellenz-Poltersdorf?”

  Paul scanned the town. “No, let’s take the rowboat back where we found it. A little distance from the contact might be good.”

  They made the return trip without incident and hiked back up into the trees. Above the town of Beilstein stood the ruins of another castle, which offered a breathtaking panoramic view of the Mosel Valley. While they dined on cold peas served on slices of zwieback, the familiar rumble of a bomber formation rolled over them. Paul watched it with no apparent interest. The setback had him on edge. He needed a distraction.

  “Would you like to explore the castle ruins? The way it’s isolated above the town, we shouldn’t be spotted.”

  “Good idea. First let’s find a campsite where we can park our gear.” He smiled. “A little fun-filled exercise is just what we need.”

  “Right.” She hesitated at the excitement brightening Paul’s eyes. “Watch carefully where you step, though. Some areas may be rotten. The last thing we need now is a broken leg.”

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Ellenz-Poltersdorf, Germany

  Same Day

  “All the castles I’ve seen in Germany are high up in the hills.” Paul skidded on loose gravel as they climbed higher. “Those I saw in England had moats.” And every castle he’d ever seen in pictures had been surrounded by a moat.

  “The land must have been flat.” Heidi grabbed the hand he offered as they climbed a gravel-strewn path. “Having height didn’t help these castles. Most were destroyed in the late sixteen hundreds by France’s Louis XIV. I don’t think France and Germany have ever gotten along.”

  Only a few outer walls remained standing, along with a tower. Paul studied the seven huge openings across the top of the longest wall. “Those are too big for windows, at least what I associate with castles. An enemy would have had an easy time shooting arrows through them. Shouldn’t they be narrow slits, like those in the tower?”

  Heidi laughed as she turned in a circle. “I couldn’t tell you. Too bad a lady I met last year on the train isn’t here. She knew all about castles. That round area might have held stairs, and there where the upper floor extends over the lower you might find an opening for the water closet.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Seriously.” She brought clasped hands to her lips but failed to stifle her laugh. “That’s what passed for toilets in olden days.”

  Paul crossed his arms, his gaze swinging from Heidi to the overhang and back. “Whatever happened to chamber pots?”

  “Maybe they weren’t invented yet.” Heidi was enjoying this way too much.

  “To think our ancestors survived such conditions.” Paul ran a hand across a wall, marveling at the craftsmanship. Wide, thin stones had been layered, resulting in thick walls. He guessed at the square footage. “This must have been a huge place. Shall we try the tower? It appears intact.”

  Darkness filled the tower. The narrow windows allowed in little light. They needed their flashlight. Something brushed Paul’s forehead. He ducked and put up a hand. Good thing their progress was slow. “Watch your head. Low clearance.”

  “Hmm. In olden days people didn’t grow as tall.” Heidi paused by a window slit, her breath coming in gasps. “They had stamina, though.”

  They emerged into bright sunlight. Shielding his eyes, Paul headed for the parapet ringing the edge of the roof. “Wow, what a view. Look at that. We can see the whole town of Ellenz-Poltersdorf. It’s not very big.” He pivoted in a full circle. “No enemy could sneak up on the folks living here.”

  The roar of aircraft engines turned their heads to the east. “There must be a Luftwaffe base in the area. Maybe the one where the plane that crashed in our yard belonged.” Heidi watched them disappear. “I wonder if those men might have been flying one of those planes.”

  “Not likely. Those are single-seater fighters.” Paul wandered the perimeter. “Hey, look at this. A rope’s tied here. Someone must have been practicing rappelling.”

  Heidi joined him to peer down. “No broken bodies. Whoever it was survived his stunt.”

  “His stunt? Wouldn’t you like to try it?” The
words had barely left Paul’s mouth when he froze. “Did you hear that?”

  Beside him, Heidi’s eyes rounded as she bobbed a quick nod. He read her lips, “Someone’s here.”

  He jogged to the side overlooking the interior of the castle ruins. A brief glimpse revealed two unkempt men dashing around a wall. Paul ran forward to look out over the town. His heart began to pound. He returned to Heidi at the rope and gave it a hard tug. “We have to get out of here. The police are coming.”

  “The police? You mean Gestapo?” Heidi’s hand groped at her throat.

  “They’re chasing someone else but will be glad to bag us.” He leaned out. The rope didn’t go down all the way, stopping a good ten feet from the ground. Such a drop could be disastrous. Think of it like a parachute jump. Tuck and roll.

  Heidi tugged his arm. “Paul? Do you mean to climb down the wall on that rope?”

  Her voice squeaked the last word.

  “If they come up the tower, we have no choice. We’re trapped. At least this is on the far side, out of their view.” He paused to listen. He started across the roof for another look, but halted. Someone had entered the tower.

  Heidi pressed one hand to her mouth, the other hugging her waist.

  Paul lost no time. “Listen carefully. I’ll go first. Watch how I do it. The rope doesn’t reach all the way down. I’ll try to twist and leap into those bushes. You follow as soon as I’m down and I’ll catch you at the drop. Grip the rope as tight as you can so you don’t slide and get rope burn. You can do this. Understand?” He shook her arm. “Heidi, do you understand?”

  She rubbed her hands on her skirt, her eyes bleak. She nodded.

  Paul leaped up on the parapet and wrapped the rope around his wrist, pleased that Heidi watched intently. They should have gloves, and belts to latch onto the rope. “Okay, here I go.” He hesitated. “Our Father in heaven, You’ve provided us an escape. Give us the strength to hold on and make it safely down.”

  He pushed off.

  Paul walked backwards down the wall like he’d been rappelling all his life. Maybe the American air force included this in their training. How could she ever do likewise? She wore a skirt, for pity’s sake. What a view for Paul.

  Footsteps came louder and closer from inside the tower. No time for modesty. Heidi scrambled onto the wall. Grit scratched into her legs. Don’t think about it.

  Paul leaped to the ground and rolled several times, right under the bushes. He popped out, waving his hands at her. Come on.

  Heidi wrapped the rope around her wrist as he’d showed her. Ease off the ledge and… freeze.

  “Come on, come on.”

  Paul’s fierce whisper floated up to her. She leaned back. The rope threatened to slip through her hands. Already they ached. With jaw clenched, she tightened her left hand’s grip, rewrapped the rope further down in her right hand, and gripped it tight while her feet skittered two steps down. Grip hard, rewrap, grip hard, skitter down. Little by little, she jerked downward. How had Paul done it so easily? Her hands and shoulders suffered from her slow progress. Were her hands starting to sweat? She’d lose her grip for sure.

  She couldn’t give up now. Paul had prayed for strength, but she was using up hers. A memorized Psalm came to mind. “For He shall give His angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways. They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.”

  I’m calling in that promise, God.

  “Okay, unwrap, push off, twist, and launch yourself to me.”

  She’d made it to the end of the rope? Just in time. Her arms were quivering. The rope started slipping, burning her hands. She let go.

  The force of her body slamming into Paul pushed him back several steps before her momentum knocked him down and sent them rolling. The trunk of a bush stopped them. She lay on top of him. Their chests heaved in unison. A minute passed, two. A rumble started in Paul’s chest. His shoulders shook. He was laughing.

  Heidi’s heart eased its frantic pace. She raised up and smacked his shoulder. “That was different, Braedel.”

  He pulled her back down and kissed her right on the lips.

  Bang! Bang! Heidi dug her fingernails into Paul’s shoulders as the shots echoed. A cry rose from the opposite side of the tower. Shouts came from on high. Another shot rang out.

  In the sudden silence, her pulse pounded in her ears. She didn’t even breathe. Paul pressed her head to his shoulder, keeping her still. His caution was unnecessary. She couldn’t move if she wanted to.

  “Here’s a rope.”

  She tensed. They’d be spotted for sure. Paul twisted around, searching their hiding place under the bush. He pulled her further in. Stones fell from the wall. The pursuer must be testing the rope. Their voices receded.

  “They’re heading for the stairs. They’re coming down,” Paul hissed in her ear. “We have to get out of here. Roll out that way.”

  Free of the bush, she stood and stretched, aching for the first time since letting go of the rope. Paul rose stiffly, slowly. She grabbed his arm. “Are you all right?”

  He waved away her concern. “That clump of vegetation. Let’s go.”

  The scrub bush was taller and fuller than that below the tower. Paul dropped behind it, pulling her down with him. His chest heaved as he massaged an ankle. He arched, a hand going to his back. “I must have been lying on a boulder.” His gaze sharpened on her. “How are you doing? Any injuries?”

  Heidi spread reddened hands. “They sting.”

  The pain grew as she looked at them. At least the rope hadn’t scraped off her skin.

  Paul’s hands showed burns as well. “I’ve got a bit of salve in my kit, but that will have to wait.”

  Grittiness covered her legs and arms, stuck to her hair, and soiled her dress. She brushed at it with the backs of her hands. That only served to increase the scratchiness and the sting of her burns. What she wouldn’t give for a bath. The river looked so inviting, yet so far away.

  Water to drink would be even more welcome. As her adrenaline faded, a parching thirst strangled her throat. Breathing became difficult.

  “Slow breaths.” Paul directed her to lie down. “Let your mind go. Think through the steps of sewing a shirt. Or playing with the children. Or watch the clouds float by.” He looked skyward. “No, cancel that. There aren’t any. Close your eyes and concentrate on happy memories.” His burned hand patted her shoulder. He smoothed down her skirt.

  Maybe Paul had no problem wrestling his mind away from their close escape, but her? Impossible. The nearness of the Gestapo discovering them. Who had they been chasing? Why? What if Rudy was here?

  No, happy thoughts. Think happy thoughts. Like the time she and Gretchen had climbed the tree in the back yard. Gretchen wanted to reach a bird’s nest but she’d fallen and broken her arm.

  Heidi jerked her head to the side, away from the memory. Stop thinking of climbing and falling. Something happy. What’s happy? First, a question. “How long do we need to stay here?”

  “Until we’re sure the Gestapo is gone. They got their guys, and they shouldn’t suspect our presence, but I’m not taking chances.” Paul smiled, but a hard glint shone in his eyes. “We’ll wait until sundown if we have to.”

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Ellenz-Polterdorf, Germany

  Saturday, June 17, 1944

  Paul lounged against the wall far enough down the lane to be unobserved by the proprietor but close enough to keep an eye on Heidi. Sending her into the grocery this time to meet their contact had seemed like a good idea last night. Now, he fidgeted. What was transpiring in there?

  He thought again of the Beilstein hillside. What a stroke of good fortune that they’d spotted the Gestapo agents hiking down to the village. They’d had time to scramble up to the tree line before the men brought a horse and wagon to retrieve the bodies at the ruin. Paul had thought they might have to wait until sundown to get back to their campsite. With the sun not setting until nearly
ten in the evening, they would have had a long, miserable wait.

  Heidi was taking too long. Either the contact was there or he wasn’t. If not, she should come out of the shop. If he was there, she should have waved him in. He decided to walk past and take a look. No sooner did he straighten then Heidi came to the window with a smile and a wave. He hurried inside.

  “Herr Schultz knows of a supplier heading upriver at eleven.” Without the window between them, Heidi’s smile appeared strained. Paul looked to the grocer.

  The man shrugged. “It gets ever harder to move people out of the Reich, especially two at a time. If you go separately…”

  “No. We stay together.” Paul refused to back down. He might not be able to protect Heidi from every danger, but if they weren’t together, how would he know if she was safe? She could disappear and he’d never know what happened to her.

  “You will need a strong story for why you are traveling together.”

  “I am returning to my unit in France. While recuperating, I visited a buddy’s wife. Her friend,” Paul nodded to Heidi, “wishes to find her husband. He was supposedly wounded by partisans, but she has been unable to learn anything more. She plans to search hospitals in the last area he was known to be.” He leaned toward the grocer. “She is likely on a fool’s errand, but are you going to tell her finding her man is hopeless?”

  He hadn’t lowered his voice, allowing Heidi to hear everything. Hands clasped and eyes wide, she added her plea. “I have to find him. I would know if he’s dead, wouldn’t I? If the Wehrmacht doesn’t know where he is, he could be in serious trouble. If the army can’t spare anyone to look for him, I must.”

  The grocer looked back and forth between them. “It’s crazy enough it might work.” He disappeared into a back room and returned, bearing a wooden crate. He heaved it onto the counter. “Go to the last house on Moselstrasse, number nineteen, along the river front. Take this to Herr Banner and tell him, ‘Herr Schultz is short two cakes of soap.’ He’ll see you on your way.”