Lovers in Enemy Territory

by Rebecca Winters

  When she went to bed, she resolved that from then on, she would avoid hia company as much as possible. She must!

  Jeffrey was good as his word and breezed into Michael's room the next day, a few minutes before four. The time spent away from the two of them seemed much too long. He hadn't been able to get back to the hospital fast enough, and was breathless when he finally pulled up to the curb, but his eager expression faded when he discovered that Sister Catherine was unavailable for the next few hours.

  She’d purposely decided to be in the chapel. Father and son needed to be alone, and she needed to calm her troubled spirit. She stayed away till after the dinner hour, thinking that perhaps Michael was asleep and his father had gone home. But Jeffrey was reading to his son when she stepped inside. He looked up and gave her the special smile she'd learned to look forward to. A warm feeling passed through her body without her volition.

  "Sister—“ Michael blurted. "Why didn't you come to dinner? Daddy brought us a special treat. Look!" Her eyes strayed to the bedside table. He’d brought them some delectable looking pastry, probably purchased somewhere in London. Sugar was hard to come by during the war, but he’d managed it. .

  "It looks delicious. I'm sorry, I didn't know."

  "It doesn't matter now that you're here.” Jeffrey beamed. She wouldn't look at him, for when she did it caused troubling sensations she'd never felt before. "Michael, when I finish this story, Sister and I are going to show you how to play chess."

  The evening progressed and Catherine was immersed once again in a battle of wits. This time, she won. It pleased her but she had the impression it had all been prearranged. His presence unnerved her. She fiddled with the chess pieces and kept her eyes on the board.

  Jeffrey studied her during the game, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze. He had an idea it was intentional. It maddened him now that he couldn’t see her hair which he imagined to be dark like her arched brows but the blasted wimple hid such allurements from view.

  He tried to picture her without her habit-- in a dress perhaps, her hair long and flowing, or perhaps in a skirt and blouse with short, curly locks like Michael's. He was keenly aware of feelings he’d thought never to experience again, and knew he should be repressing now. He wanted to feel her mouth on his. He wanted to feel the softness of her cheek against his. He wanted...

  "Commander,” she repeated. She’d been asking him about a particular move and what she could have done differently, but he hadn’t responded. She looked up, forgetting her earlier promise to herself. The longing in his eyes forced her to leave the room.

  After that night Jeffrey went to London on a regular basis and spent every evening with Michael and Catherine. She tried to find other things to do while he was there, but inevitably, he and Michael coaxed her into some game or activity which she could not refuse.

  In truth, she didn't want to.

  *****

  Two weeks passed and Michael was getting stronger every day. One Thursday afternoon at tea time, Dr. Endicott came into Michael's room and found the three of them busily engaged in putting a puzzle together. He thought it curious that Jeff had left London early enough to have tea with the boy. He knew Jeff loved his son very much, but he was surprised at the amount of time the usually busy father spent at the hospital. He'd taken care of Phil and Jeff since they were infants and it wasn't like Jeff to take so much time off from his work.

  His was a serious nature, dedicated to his work. Now he found Jeff to be constantly at the nun's side, wearing a look of absolute worship on his face. The man was in love-- deeply in love, there was no doubt about it. What a pity that she was a professed nun. They would have make a striking couple if things had been different.

  "Good afternoon, everyone. It seems I'm not needed around here anymore."

  "Hugh," Jeffrey stood and they shook hands.

  "Well, Michael," he put a hand on the boy's shoulder, "I came to tell you that I'm letting you go home in the morning. What do you say to that?"

  "Really?" He clapped his hands, his blue eyes sparkling as he turned to his father. Dr. Endicott's gaze was fastened on the Sister because the color had drained from her face. Apparently the news was causing her a great deal of pain.

  Catherine felt as though someone had just taken the floor from under her. ‘No,’ she cried inside. ‘Not yet.’ A steel knife had been plunged into her heart. Michael turned to her. She couldn't break down now. He put out his arms and she reached for him, holding him tightly. When the room began to spin. Michael pulled away.

  "Sister, why are you crying?" She bowed her head. "It's because I’m so happy for you, darling. Now you can leave the hospital and go home. You've been a perfect little patient, but I know how much home means to you."

  Jeffrey glowed. "That's splendid, Hugh.” He walked around and swung Michael up in the air above his head. "Hey, Tiger. We're going home!"

  The boy giggled and was finally lowered so they could hug each other. Catherine couldn’t stand it and rose to leave. The time had come. The boy and his father were going back to their life. Her mission had drawn to a close. After tonight, her services would be required elsewhere.

  She'd been on God's errand, now He was calling her back home. The circle of love which bound the boy and his father didn’t include her. It couldn’t. She started to leave, but Jeffrey's eyes followed her. "Sister, where are you going?"

  “To phone the Holy Mother. Now that Michael is well enough to go home with you, I must return to the convent and need to make arrangements to leave for Castle Combe in the morning."

  She shut the door behind her and walked swiftly toward the chapel as if pursued by demons. But she would have to get a grip on herself before she could place the call.

  Hugh watched Jeff’s face turn ashen. Michael's countenance had changed as well. Jeff put the boy down and asked Hugh to stay with him, then hurriedly followed Catherine from the room. She hastened her pace, but outside the chapel door he called to her. "'Sister? Wait!"

  It took every ounce of strength she possessed to appear calm. "Yes?"

  "Don't go inside yet. I need to talk to you. This is very important," he pleaded in a low voice. "Can we take a walk outside for a moment? There's a park across the street.”

  He looked so upset, she had no choice but to go with him. They crossed the street and entered the rose garden. There were benches for the strollers, but neither of them could sit. He began pacing back and forth across the gravel as she leaned over to inhale the fragrance of the flowers.

  "Michael isn't completely well yet, Sister. Just because Hugh is allowing him to go home doesn't mean he is out of the woods. If you should leave before he’s totally recovered, we could be right back where we started. He loves you too much.

  “Don't go yet. Stay another week at least. If necessary I'll phone the Holy Mother myself right now and ex-plain the circumstances. I don't want to take any chances where Michael’s concerned."

  His words permeated her being and a feeling of such intense joy leaped inside, she had to fight to keep her control. It was true. Michael wasn't well yet. She wasn't ready to go back to the convent. But if she gave in now, she knew it would be that much harder to leave in another seven days.

  What to do-- The Holy Mother said she had faith in Catherine's instincts, but her instincts told her that another week in this man's company would make the inevitable parting even more unbearable.

  Jeffrey was on the verge of panic. "I've planned to take the next week off to really spend time with Michael. I want to be free from all my work. Phil and Elinore are going to stay at the house with us. I need to re-establish a routine with my son. I need you to help me.”

  As before, his soul was reaching out to her. How could she refuse?

  "Sister?" He sounded frantic. "Say something.”

  After a moment, she dared look at him. "I'll stay another week, Commander. I realize Michael still isn't fully recovered, but then I’ll have to get back to the convent. I've been gone too long al
ready."

  He heaved a sigh and relief washed over him, leaving him drained and weak. One more week, that was all. "Thank you. I know it's asking a great deal. Forgive me, but I couldn't let you go just yet." Their eyes held. He knew she was thankful for a little more time with Michael. If only he dared hope she didn't want to leave him, either.

  *****

  Friday came. Michael was living for it. He was going home! Catherine packed all his belongings, but he wouldn't let her touch the whistle or the puppet. Those two precious items stayed with him at all times.

  In two weeks the room had become littered with paraphernalia, puzzles, books, charcoals, sketches. Catherine carefully placed the drawings on top of each other. Jeffrey had done dozens of sketches of many subjects including airplanes. He'd made a drawing of a new American model called a Hudson.

  He’d taught her a great deal about aviation and airplanes. It had been fascinating. His field was engineering and design, and he was an excellent teacher.

  Catherine put everything in readiness and an orderly came for the luggage. Other than a hacking cough which seemed to burst out of nowhere at odd hours, Michael seemed perfectly well as he ran out of the hospital into his father's arms. Jeffrey had come to pick them up.

  A sun-filled morning greeted Catherine after she shut the hospital doors behind her. Surely the grass was greener. How different were the circumstances from two weeks before. She was no longer the same person. Catherine had entered into a new realm of existence and had to face a frightening truth about herself. She loved this new dimension of life with an intensity that terrified her!

  *****

  The grandfather clock in the hall chimed eleven times. Elinore got up from the chesterfield and went over to the window, expecting Jeffrey to pull up in front of the house at any minute. Philip had long since left for London and Millie was upstairs making up another bedroom.

  All night Elinore had pondered the new turn of events. It shouldn't have come as such a tremendous shock to be told that Sister Catherine would be staying at the house with them for the next week. Elinore hadn't seen Jeffrey for two minutes since the Sister had come to the hospital.

  He’d obviously become infatuated with the nun, But she hadn’t counted on the Sister’s extended stay, thinking of course she was on her way back to the convent this morning.

  Last night when Jeffrey informed her Michael was still too ill for Sister to leave him, Elinore began to understand the depth of his feelings and her jealousy bordered on hatred for the other woman. The chance of Jeffrey's falling in love with Elinore was growing more and more remote. But that wouldn't stop her from divorcing Philip.

  Whether she won Jeffrey or not, her marriage to Philip was over. He would never stand in her way. She could give Philip that much credit. He really was a very nice person, but nice people bored Elinore.

  The car finally made an appearance and Elinore opened the front door, anxious to meet Sister Catherine face to face. They’d never been formally introduced. She couldn't help but be curious about this nun who had accomplished the impossible once again and had Jeffrey wrapped around her little finger.

  The child seemed perfectly spry to her as she saw him scamper out of the car and disappear around the back of the house. She noticed immediately how solicitous Jeffrey was of the nun's needs.

  Catherine got out of the car and looked about. She knew the Norwoods were a wealthy, well established English family, and their home was as Michael had described it to her. The house was Elizabethan Jeffrey had told her, very old and stately, set among rolling parklands.

  "Elinore?” Jeffrey put an arm around her shoulder.

  Catherine approached and Elinore took a swift inventory. How beautiful she was! Even in the simple habit and wimple, she would make most women look drab and artificial. Jeffrey would have to be blind not to notice that gorgeous face. On the same footing, Elinore had to look up to the graceful Sister who stood with poise and dignity. This woman, nun or no, had everything a man could desire, and Elinore was sick with envy. She'd noticed reverence in Philip's voice when he spoke of Sister Catherine. Now she knew why, and it explained everything.

  Elinore forced a smile. "Sister Catherine, I've wanted to meet you for a long time. I haven't had an opportunity to tell you how grateful we all are that you came when Michael needed you."

  Catherine bowed and smiled. "How do you do, Mrs. Norwood."

  "Sister," Jeffrey interjected, "Elinore is my sister-in-law and my good friend. She's helped me through some very difficult times.” He gave Elinore an extra hug. "Say, where's Phil?"

  "He had to go to London. He'll try to get back early this evening." She looked around. "Where’s Michael? I'm anxious to see him."

  Catherine and Jeffrey both started to answer at the same time. He smiled broadly at her but she lowered her eyes. "He ran around the back to find Francis, I think."

  "Well then, let me show you to your room, Sister." They stepped inside the hall, but the noisy patter of small feet caused them to pause.

  "Sister—” Michael ran past his aunt and grabbed Catherine's hand. "Come up to my room."

  "Say hello to Aunt Ellie first, son," Jeffrey admonished, to Catherine's relief. She'd seen the hurt look on the other woman's face when Michael had brushed past her.

  "Hello, Aunt Ellie."

  "Well, Michael! It's so good to have you home, dear. Come, give me a kiss." She leaned over and he planted one sterile kiss on her rouged cheek. Then his hand slipped right back into Catherine's.

  "My room has two beds so we can sleep together, Sister."

  "No, Michael dear," Elinore reproved, a bit too sharply. "Sister Catherine must sleep in her own room now that you're out of the hospital."

  "Is hers the green one?"

  "No. Philip and I are using that room. The red room has been prepared for her."

  “But Grandmama's old room is clear around the other side of the house from mine."

  "Michael," Jeffrey warned, "your aunt has everything arranged. Come on, tiger. Let's go up to your room.” He lifted Michael up over his head, iggyback style. The two started up the stairs.

  "Sister?" Michael called out. "We'll show you the way. Just follow us."

  Catherine turned to Elinore. "Thank you for getting a room ready for me. I hope it didn't put you to too much trouble. I’d planned on returning to Castle Combe today, but Michael's father felt one more week with the boy was advisable."

  The gray eyes glittered. "It's no trouble, Sister, but I should imagine you are greatly missed at the convent. Jeff tells me there are several hundred children you take care of."

  "Yes.” Catherine felt hostility from Michael's aunt and could not account for it. She started up the stairs, puzzled, but the two ahead of her were having so much fun, she gave no more thought to the cool welcome she'd received. Jeffrey had never seemed so relaxed and carefree.

  "Watch your head now," he warned the boy as they entered his room.

  "Daddy, bring me in for a landing."

  "All right," his father said and headed for the four poster bed, lowering his head so Michael could jump off his shoulders and dive into the middle of the counterpane. When Catherine saw the little boy go flying, she cried out in alarm and hurried to his side.

  "Are you all right?" she asked as he rolled over, but his shriek of laughter answered her question. Out of habit, she hugged him to her. She had to remember that men roughhoused. Her father had played with her like that when she was little, come to think of it. She'd almost forgotten. Lately, too many memories supposedly locked safely away in the past, seemed to come back to her, unbidden. She let him go.

  Michael sat up. "Sister, what's the matter?" His eyes were large, and he was just as sensitive to her changes of mood as was his observant father.

  "Nothing, Michael."

  "How come you stopped smiling?"

  "Did I?"

  "I think Sister is tired and should have a chance to see her room. And you, young man, are to change your cloth
es and get right into bed. This afternoon, after your nap, we'll go down to the stable and say hello to Toby. What do you say to that?"

  "I love you, Daddy."

  Jeffrey tousled his shiny locks. "I kind of love you, too." His voice was husky. "I'll be right back, now, and I want to find you in bed."

  "Okay." Michael pretended to pout, but Catherine knew the bed would feel good to him.

  "Your room is around this corner, Sister. There’s a sitting room with a telephone. I'm sure you'll find the bed more comfortable than that cot." He opened the door and let her pass through.

  "I'm sure I’ll be most comfortable. Thank you." She walked into the room, but did not hear the door close. She turned. He was looking at her in such a strange way. "Is there something wrong?" she inquired.

  "No. I was just about to say that Michael and I would deem it an honor if you would accompany us to the stable. Shall we say two o'clock?"

  "Perhaps you should be alone with Michael this afternoon. This is his first day home from hospital and you've taken this time to be with your son. He needs to spend as much time as possible with you alone."

  "Do you honestly think he would step outside this house for one instant without you?"

  She clasped her hands. "Very well, but the boy is progressing so beautifully that I think it’s time he stopped depending on me. The longer I stay away from the convent, the harder it will become...for Michael." She bit her lip. "I must return shortly. "

  Jeffrey stiffened. "I'm aware of that, Sister. We went over that whole business yesterday." There was an edge in his tone. "But may we worry about it on another day? As you said yourself, it’s his first day home," and after another long pause, he quietly shut the door.

  Catherine stood frozen to the spot. She felt weary, but it wasn't of a physical nature. She was alarmed over the way he had spoken to her just now. He seemed to resent any mention of her return to the convent. Perhaps she hadn't given it enough time.

  Michael was just barely out of hospital, and she couldn't forget the way he scrambled from the front seat and into her arms on the drive back home because she mentioned that she'd have to leave him soon. Nor could she erase from her memory the way Jeffrey spoke to her in the car after Michael was upset.