Lovers in Enemy Territory

by Rebecca Winters

  The two adults exchanged glances. Catherine spoke first. “Well, when we get some paper, we’ll have you draw something special for us, like a Sunderland.”

  Jeffrey blinked. “How would you know about that?’

  She bit her lip in a teasing manner, unaware of the sauce picture she made. “I know a lot about you, Commander.” She placed the emphasis on his title in a low voice. “Your son is a veritable encyclopedia.”

  He laughed. “I hope he hasn’t let all the skeletons out of the closet.”

  “Oh—“ She smiled. “Not too many.”

  “I’ll get the things you need and be right back.” He left the room excited.

  Catherine checked the stack of books, looking forward to the moments when she could spend time reading. Michael searched for his books and started reading out loud. Catherine thumbed through Bonaparte. She’d start with that book first.

  “Did I bring something to interest you?”

  “Oh—“ She hadn’t realized Jeffrey had returned. “Yes. Thank you so much.”

  He sat down next to Michael and started to sketch something on paper. Both heads were caught in concentration. It caught at her heart to see them so happy. She continued to read, but occasionally she walked over to see how things were progressing. He drew with swift, rapid strokes, decisive and clear. A two-decked plane was emerging from the pencil.

  “You really are good.” She stepped closer to observe his work.

  “It’s just part of my job,” he responded modestly. The plane was coming to life now.

  She was fascinated. “It’s a very large plane, isn’t it.” She leaned over to see better.

  Her face was so close, he could see the fine down on her cheeks. “Yes. The biggest one in the air command. It seats a crew of seven, but we’ve had as many as forty-three in it one on rescue missions.”

  This man had risked his life to save others. He’d received a medal for bravery during the early days of the war, but he was too humble to ever talk about it. He really was quite extraordinary. Michael would have a lot to live up to.

  Jeffrey sketched for a while longer. Michael drew right alongside him. After a lunch of stew, he settled back for another nap. Catherine returned to her novel and Jeffrey started another sketch. After a time she discovered his eyes on her, studying her carefully. She put the book down.

  “Don’t move, Sister.”

  His command startled her. She didn’t budge. He made a few quick strokes with his pencil. “There.” He finally put the picture on the table.

  She moved around to take a look.

  He’d sketched her and Michael as he’d seen them the night of the crisis. She was kneeling at his bed, holding his hand.

  Tears gathered in her eyes. She blinked hard to keep them from falling. “You’re a very gifted artist. You’ve captured Michael’s sweetness.”

  “Maybe,” he answered slowly, “but I couldn’t do justice to you.” His eyes were suspiciously bright as they looked into hers.

  She turned from him. There was something about the way he spoke to her just now... “If you’re going to stay for a while, I would like to go to the chapel.” She felt the need to be alone.

  “Of course. Feel free to do whatever you wish.” But his heart wasn’t in the reply. He wanted her to stay.

  Catherine returned at the dinner hour. “We’ve been waiting for you, Sister,” Michael called out. “Daddy has made a spot for you.” Indeed everything had been set up on a table. She sat down at her appointed place. Tonight it was cabbage rolls. This time Jeffrey said grace. “This is fun,” Michael commented. “Can we do this every night?”

  “If you’d like,” Jeffrey answered automatically. Catherine said nothing. Michael’s illness had forced both of them to throw discipline aside. But eventually he’d have to return to normal. So would she. This fairy tale couldn’t go on indefinitely. However, she refused to think about that just yet.

  An orderly took the dishes away and they faced another evening together. “I brought some cards, Michael. She we teach her to play Duck Duck?”

  “Duck, what?” Looking first at Michael, then his father. “Do you think I can learn?” Her mouth turned up.

  “Sister, you’re silly,” he commented and watched his father shuffle the cards.

  Jeffrey was amused because his son wasn’t fooled by her attempt to appear humble, though he admired her for it. He wondered how she’d be at a game of chess. He’d have to find out later.

  They played the game until Michael fell asleep with the cards still in his hands. Jeffrey was glad. He’d been looking forward to spending the rest of the evening with her.

  “Sister, have you ever played chess?”

  “Yes. There’s a fourteen year old boy at the convent named Christian. He taught me a few fundamentals. He used to play with his father until he was killed in a bombing raid over Sussex. The boy is disturbed and the game helps him relax during the long afternoons.”

  Again, she was upset with herself. A simple ‘yes’ to his questions would have sufficed.

  “Well—“ He eyed her intently. “Let’s see if you’ve done your homework. I’ll be right back.” He’d seen a chess set in the doctor’s lounge and asked the orderly to fetch it.

  Soon he was back in the room and had the game set up. Now that Michael was asleep, Catherine wondered why he didn’t return to Norwood, but he made no move to leave. As for Catherine, she was anxious to find out just how well she measured up. She’d never played with anyone but Christian. No doubt Jeffrey was an expert, so she determined to play her best.

  A friendly spirit of competition always enticed her. They began their moves and there was no time to talk. She was entirely caught up in the stimulating game. Soon she lost track of her surroundings.

  Jeffrey found her a worthy opponent. As time passed, he had to start taxing his brain to stay in the game. But he couldn’t refrain from watching the various expressions on her face as she planned her strategy. He enjoyed it so much, he failed to pay proper attention to the play at hand.

  “I have your king in check,” she called out with a triumphant ring. Her eyes flashed and she was obviously delighted. He sat back to think this one over. She was right!

  He looked at her while his fingers drummed the table top. She was watching him carefully. He couldn’t allow her to become too confident of herself. She would have to ask forgiveness for succumbing to the sin of pride, he mused. He moved a knight in front of his king. Her face fell.

  His move had upset her whole plan. He could see she was disappointed. Her fingers trembled as she moved her queen. He then moved his rook into position. “Check mate, Sister.”

  She relaxed and smiled engagingly at him across the board. “Christian should have you around to coach him.”

  Catherine was even a gracious loser. “I’ll tell you a secret.” He winked. “I’ve had many more hours than you to develop skill at this game.”

  She imagined he was referring to his spare time between flights in the coastal command. “Does it get lonely when you’re out on a mission?”

  “Very,” he nodded with a far away look in his eyes. “Terribly at times. Not so much when we’re in the air. With seven of us there’s a great deal of camaraderie. We’re close, like brothers. But when we’re on the ground, waiting to go out on sorties, the thoughts of loved ones at home are almost unbearable.”

  He sounded sad. She shouldn’t have asked. His eyes were half-veiled as he ventured a question. “Don’t you ever get lonely for relationships with other people?”

  She stared at him. “You mean outside the Order?” His question seemed to have come from out of the blue.

  “Yes.”

  “But we do mix with people from the outside. I’m with hundreds of children every day. Someday I plan to be a teacher and I’ll always be surrounded by children. And there are the other sisters, of course. My life is rich.”

  He was listening carefully. “Do you sisters care for each other, the way the men
of my crew do, for example? You’re always in each other’s company.”

  “We care, but it isn’t a demonstrative kind of love. We lead an active life and are busy with our various duties. Close relationships with each other are not encouraged. It would interfere with our work which is the service to God.”

  “Does that apply to the children too?”

  She sat straighter in the chair. “What do you mean?”

  “Are relationships with them discouraged?”

  “We try to remain objective with all people so we can give the greatest possible service to everyone who needs our help.” A faint blush had filled her cheeks.

  “Do you love all the children with the same intensity you love my son?”

  By her silence, he knew he’d hit a nerve. She loved Michael as a mother loved a child. That wasn’t in the rules. He waited for her answer. For some reason it was vitally important to him.

  “Michael--” she struggled, “Michael is a special case. He’s-- he’s very precious.” She said the words haltingly.

  It thrilled him she cared so much. She was still a saint, but seated across from him was an exciting woman of flesh, blood and heart. “You missed him when I brought him back home, didn’t you?”

  She bowed her head. “Yes.”

  “When you go back, will you be lonely for him again?”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Catherine grasped the crucifix tightly. “Yes.” Pain filled her tone and expression. Jeffrey hadn’t meant to hurt her and felt shame to have caused her any discomfort. But he couldn’t help himself. His thoughts darted hither and yon.

  “Will you stay at the convent indefinitely?” He’d decided to steer the conversation in another direction. Truthfully he wanted to know her future plans...for Michael’s sake he told himself.

  “No. There are missions in Tahiti and French Guiana. I’ll do my life’s work at one of those locations, but that won’t be until the war is over.” She looked up and their eyes held. He couldn’t imagine her so far away. Already it was bothering him.

  “Are you a nurse too?” he asked quickly to cover his distress.

  “No. I prefer to deal in concepts and philosophies rather than disease, though there is ample need for both vocaions. I grew up believing we were born to do some service for mankind, even before I entered the convent. Now I’ll be able to do such work. Children are the hope of the world. I’d like to be able to have a part in their education.”

  He smiled, deeply impressed. “That’s a lofty ideal for one so young.”

  “I don’t believe age has anything to do with it. Many of the sisters come to the convent at an early age, their lives already set on a certain path. It’s not remarkable.”

  Jeffrey remembered that nuns didn’t take credit for the good they did. She had a difficult time accepting praise graciously. “Why did you become a nun?” The question was out. All day he’d wanted to ask her. Maybe he’d gone to far, but something had come over him. He wanted to know everything about her.

  Catherine didn’t know if she should tell him anything more. The Holy Mother had been right! There was no precedent to follow. Yet the man seated across from her had asked a simple question in all sincerity. Was it wrong? She didn’t know.

  “You don’t have to answer that,” Jeffrey said, noticing her perplexed look. “I’ve no right. Forgive me.”

  “It’s all right. When my brother Paul died, I became quite despondent. It seemed such a waste. He was my dear friend. We were close like you and your brother. Paul had always wanted to become a priest. Even as a youngster, he wasn’t like the other boys. He had a more serious nature. Anyway, the priesthood was a dream for him and I was inconsolable, knowing it could never be a reality.”

  “He must have loved you very much.”

  “We were close. As the years went by, I found myself turning more and more to the Lord for comfort. One night the thought came to me that I could serve God in Paul’s place. That idea grew.”

  Jeffrey listened, haunted by the depth of her religious zeal.

  “Later, when my mother was ill, I told her of my desire. It shocked her deeply and she didn’t want me to do this. She did everything in her power to persuade me otherwise. I believe it was because she and my father had been so happy together. I suppose she wanted me to have that same fulfillment.”

  “You can’t really blame her, can you?” he questioned.

  “No, of course not. Because of her I went through a long period of self-analysis. Was I doing this to fulfill my brother’s dream, or was I committing myself to God for me. Do you understand what I mean?”

  Jeffrey nodded. She had great wisdom and maturity for one so young. Again it baffled him.

  “When mother died, I went to the convent to live and learned to love the spiritual life. That’s when I made the decision to stay. I’ve never regretted it,” she spoke with fervor. Jeffrey shifted position in the chair, completely engrossed.

  "In my eighteenth year, I became a postulant, a period of testing. It’s a time when you learn about the life of an oblate to see if you’re ready to make vows to God, and to see if God wants you. During that year, I began to find joy in my service to the Lord, and when the time came for me to enter the novitiate, I did so willingly. After that year, the war broke out, and the children began to arrive. It was then I knew I’d chosen the right vocation.”

  "Thank God you were there for Michael! I thank Him for you, Sister." They were both quiet for a long while. He reflected on their conversation. She was completely sincere and honest in everything she said. There was nothing artificial about her, a pearl beyond price. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

  Forcing himself against his will, he stood up, and put the chess set away. "Good night. Thank you for indulging me in the chess game. Thank you for everything," his voice broke. "I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  After he left the room, Catherine stood in the same spot for several minutes in turmoil. When she was with him, another dimension of life unfolded, and she had to admit that she enjoyed it. So much so in fact, she really hadn't wanted him to leave just now. He had many fine qualities and was exciting!

  The times she recalled with her brothers had been different. The room seemed dim without his vital presence. She looked at Michael. Holy Mother of God-- even his father realized her attachment to the boy was not accepted by the rules of the sisterhood. Her love for him was obvious to all. She would have to go back to the convent as soon as Michael was able to leave the hospital. Everything was becoming much too complicated.

  The next day Jeffrey came so the three of them could have breakfast together. He seemed to bring the sunshine with him. She immediately lowered her eyes, determined to keep from looking at him. The doctor said Michael could go for a ride in the wheel chair, just around the floor and back. Dr. Endicott felt that at the rate he was recovering, he'd be able to go home in another week.

  It was marvelous news, but the good doctor was totally unaware of its impact on her. Catherine couldn't bear to think about leaving Michael, and Jeffrey simply refused to think.

  That afternoon after a short nap, Michael had visitors. Philip and Elinore had come to spend some time with their nephew. It was the opportunity Catherine needed to be relieved from responsibilities. But it was their presence, Michael's and his father's, from whom she needed a vacation. They'd been together constantly. Catherine planned to go for a walk in the fresh air. There would be time for meditation in new surroundings.

  "Sister?" Jeffrey called to her in the hall. He’d just stepped out of Michael's room, afraid she'd already left.

  She turned in his direction. "Yes?"

  "I thought that since Phil and Elinore are here to be with Michael for a while, I'd drive you over to Shepherd's Cross where there’s a cathedral. After our conversation last night, I realize how much you must miss your life at Our Lord of the Lamb. I have to go over there on a personal matter anyway."

  He was always so considerate, she mused. How did he know sh
e wanted to go to church right now? To surround herself with the religious life, if only for a while. "Thank you. If you're sure it won't put you out."

  Jeffrey shook his head, as if what she'd said was absurd. "I want to. One of the fellows of an old crew was shot down last week. His wife lives right around the corner from the church. I would like to look in on her and the children. See if there’s anything I can do."

  Her face sobered. Death was everywhere, yet again she was touched with his compassion for others, his decency. She followed him outside the hos-

  pital and they were off. She felt self-conscious in the front seat with him and kept her face straight ahead, clasping her hands rigidly in her lap.

  Jeffrey stole a look at the woman seated so demurely beside him. The haunting profile just barely appeared from the edge of her wimple. Her nose turned up a bit, and the curve of her cheek was noticeable. He needed to stop admiring her and fastened his attention on the road once more.

  The sun had made an appearance earlier in the day, but now dark clouds had gathered overhead and drops of rain were pelting the windshield before they arrived at Shepherd's Cross. When he finally pulled up in front of the cathedral, a solid sheet of rain fell from an angry sky. She felt his eyes on her. It was disturbing. Even if she were drenched by the time she entered the cathedral, she couldn't bear his nearness any longer. "Thank you for bringing me here, Commander Norwood."

  "You're entirely welcome, but I think we should wait a few minutes before going inside. You'll be soaked to the skin if you go now." He was enjoying sitting with her. Heavens what was happening to him?

  "I don't mind the rain," she blurted and opened the car door. Jeffrey was at her side in an instant and together they dashed up the steps of the cathedral, dodging pools of water on their way to the foyer inside the massive doors. Catherine shook out her skirt and turned to him. "I'll be ready when you return from your visit."

  He didn't move. His eyes searched hers with an intensity she'd never felt before. "I'd like to stay with you, if you don't mind," he whispered. His tone was solemn. "I haven't thanked the Lord properly."