Arms of Deliverance

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Arms of Deliverance Page 26

by Tricia N. Goyer


  Mary explained what she’d heard from the soldiers, and Julien agreed to go ahead to the American front lines, to warn them of the German attack and to try to find the female correspondent named Lee.

  “Only one problem,” Julien told them. “If this I do, I can no join you to St. Vith. You go alone.”

  Mary turned to Eddie. “What do you think?”

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I trust Mary’s judgment,” he said to Julien. “Go ahead as she asked. I don’t think it will hurt to try, and I definitely don’t think she’s going to let this one go.” He winked at her. “Besides, if you talked German soldiers into giving us a lift, surely we can make it safely on a twenty-kilometer wagon ride.”

  “Fine then.” She spoke to Julien in German, making sure he clearly understood the directions. “Take this necklace to the press office closest to the front and ask for a female correspondent named Lee. Tell her to meet us in St. Vith on the 17th at the U.S. command center, and warn her that the Germans will be attacking the front lines soon, so our troops need to be prepared.”

  Julien slipped the pendant into his pocket. “I will pack my things and leave shortly.” He tugged on his cap and opened the door. “The wagon will be waiting in front of the parish at eight o’clock in the morning. Tell your man to be there to pick it up.”

  “Yes, I will.” Mary turned to Eddie, knowing he didn’t understand a word she was saying. “I’ll have my man do just that.”

  Despite the filthy blackout curtains and the layer of dust covering everything from the stone mantelpiece to the wood floor, the cottage was dry and warm. The fire in the small fireplace glowed softly and crackled as Eddie threw in a log from the stack left for them.

  Eddie sat down in front of the fire and spread out the silk map from his kit and compared it to the hand-drawn one Julien had given them.

  As she watched him, Mary felt an odd peace settling over her. Tomorrow they would have to figure out how to get to the American lines, but today they were warm and safe. Today they were together in this simple place.

  “What luck to be rescued by a navigator.” She plopped onto the floor next to him. Samuel lay on a blanket between them, his blue eyes fixed on the dancing flame. Mary caressed his plump baby belly.

  She looked at the figures Eddie was writing on the back of the sheet. His eyes were focused intently, like that morning before the flight. How long ago was that? Just a few weeks? It seemed like forever.

  She watched his finger trace a route toward their destination. He’d have them go one direction, then shake his head and start over. Mary knew she could trust his skills. She knew he’d find the best back roads, rivers, trails to follow to keep her and baby Samuel safe from the flood of German troops moving in the same direction. By his mumbles, she figured he was also trying to determine how long their journey would take.

  “How do you do it?” she asked when he’d sat back like he was done. “All this math stuff. It’s all gibberish to me. Now if it were a news story …”

  “Some things are easy to calculate,” Eddie said. “Like the time it will take to get from one destination to another.” The sound of planes roared overhead. He paused, cocked his ear to the ceiling, and sighed. “Then there are things harder to calculate, such as the price of fear, or the cost of seeing your buddies’ chutes going down without knowing what happened to them.”

  He reached over and caressed Mary’s cheek. “Do you trust me, Mary?”

  “Of course. Why do you ask?”

  “Well, for starters, we’re always talking about me, but you never say much about yourself. I mean, you said you were raised by your mom, then later said the pendant was a gift from your dad….”

  He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I wish you’d trust me not only to help rescue you, but trust me with your story, too.”

  Mary crumpled the edge of her peasant dress in her hand. “I don’t know where to start. It’s confusing even to me. I didn’t meet my father till I was twelve. And when I did, I’m not sure if it made things better or worse. I guess it’s better, because I can see him in person now. I’m sorry; listen to me. This isn’t making any sense.”

  She wiped her face with her sleeve, then lifted Samuel onto her lap and cradled his head with her hands. She took a deep breath, hoping Eddie would let the conversation drop.

  He brushed her hair from her face. “So has he been part of your life since then?”

  “Well, sort of. It’s not a relationship that’s been allowed to grow naturally. Instead, one day we knew each other, and it was like, ‘Okay, here we are, now what?’”

  The baby cooed, and she kissed the top of his head. “I sound so stupid. Dummkopf.” She took her fist and softly knocked the side of her head, casting him a sad smile. “I’ve never shared any of this with anyone before.”

  “But would you feel different if your father acted how you’ve imagined a dad should act? Seems it’s not so much ‘what could have been’ as ‘what should be.’ What you wished the future could hold.” Eddie paused, and the last phrase just hung there—in her mind and in her heart.

  What should be. Yes, Mary supposed that’s what had bothered her most all along. She still felt like that gangly twelve-year-old who so desperately wanted her daddy’s approval. So desperately that she’d risked her life to get his attention.

  “Yeah, Eddie. I think you’ve figured out in five minutes what’s been bothering me for thirteen years. ‘What should be …’ It’s not like Donald hates me. But maybe he’s just as unsure about me as I am about him.”

  Eddie leaned over and peered into Samuel’s face, running his finger down the baby’s cheek. “So the question is … what are you going to do when you get back?”

  She thought for a moment. “No, the question is, what am I going to do now? If you haven’t figured it out, I have a whole world of ideas and thoughts swirling around my head every waking moment. Maybe I need to pray about it.” She looked at Eddie, seeking the reaction in his brown eyes.

  Then she felt the tears coming. “If God is everything you say He is, then … then I need His help figuring this out. I believe in Him, Eddie. I didn’t when I first walked through the doors of that aircraft. I didn’t know enough about God to even consider what He was all about. But the last few weeks have been like a crazy, bad dream that I keep thinking I’ll wake up from.”

  She scooted closer to him, refusing to allow the fear of rejection to stop her from what she’d wanted for so long. “But you know what? I’d do it all again. Well, I don’t think I’ll ever step into a B-17 again … but you know what I mean.”

  Then she told him about her prayer in that secret room—her prayer to accept Jesus and learn to trust God as Eddie did.

  Now there were tears in Eddie’s eyes. “That’s amazing, Mary.”

  She offered him a shy grin. “You’ve shown me every day, through the little things you do, the small ways you seek God, how He works with people who love Him. I’d go through this again to learn that … and to be with you.”

  Eddie’s face was only inches from hers. He lifted his hand and brushed her tangled hair back from her face. “I told myself that I wasn’t going to look for a girl.” His voice was thick with emotion. “I mean, I always knew God had someone special in mind, and He’d bring me to her in His time. But I had no idea what He had up His sleeve.”

  His voice lowered into a whisper. “I care about you, Mary. And it’s more than just the fact that we’ve been thrown together and have had to depend on each other. It’s the idea, well, I was chosen for you. You were put into my plane. And we were given this crazy mission.” He glanced toward Samuel. “One so incredible that nobody’s going to believe it when we finally make it out.”

  “It is quite a story, isn’t it?” Her fingers found his and intertwined.

  “Are you kidding? If this story doesn’t make the front page of every paper, I don’t know what will.”

  They studied each other’s eyes for a long mom
ent, as if memorizing the color, texture, and tears ready to spill any second. And then she slowly, hesitantly, leaned in and kissed him. His lips, his scent, his stubble were somehow all soft and sweet, and in her arms Samuel cooed as if giving his approval.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Mary and Samuel slept, but Eddie couldn’t. His mind was filled with so much awe of how God had worked among them.

  The infant, wrapped in a tight bundle snuggled to Eddie’s chest, was the child of a Nazi and a Jew. Two people of “chosen” blood—one chosen by God, and the other by madness.

  And for some reason, God had picked him as a protector of this woman, now snuggled in a ball under a wool blanket beside him, and this baby, both of whom he was growing to love more each day.

  He’d heard stories back on base that the underground would stop at nothing to move navigators through the lines. They were so important. Shoot, I was proud of that. But now … He glanced at his maps, neatly folded and ready to take tomorrow. Then he looked at Mary.

  What map brought me to this place, Lord? To this lady? He inhaled a bit of Samuel’s sweet baby smell. And to this child. All my navigational skills would’ve never brought me here. A father. And a husband, if she’ll take me, all in one. Just a downed plane and a crazy journey.

  Mary stirred, and he fixed her blanket over her.

  But the journey’s not over, Lord. If I’m to protect them, I need You to guide me.

  He laid the baby down on the makeshift crib and walked to the window to whisper a prayer. “You are my rock and my salvation. You are my fortress; may I not be shaken.” Then he gazed anew at the two next to him. “Lord, I’m so small. Somehow, make me a fortress for my … my family.”

  Mary sang to try to still little Samuel’s squeals. “Boy, you don’t like getting your diaper changed, do you, little one?” She lifted Samuel’s tiny bottom and slid a clean diaper underneath. She pinned one side, thinking of Eddie.

  Maybe I should have gone with him to get the wagon. What will he do if anyone tries to talk to him?

  The pounding on the door interrupted her thoughts. Mary quickly pinned the other side of the diaper and turned to the door. Eddie had only left fifteen minutes ago—he couldn’t be back already.

  She hurried to the window, peeked out, and let out a little gasp. Sister Clarence!

  Mary opened the door and pulled the nun inside. “Sister Clarence! Come in.”

  The woman was panting heavily. “You must leave at once. Take the child.” Sister Clarence grabbed her side and hunched over, wincing.

  “Are you all right?”

  Sister Clarence nodded. “You must leave.”

  “Eddie’s gone to get the wagon—”

  “No, now!” Sister Clarence hurried to where the baby lay. “He’s coming.”

  “Eddie?”

  “The baby’s father. Somehow he has learned where the baby is.”

  Mary’s heart was ripping open—the thought of a madman taking this child. She’d heard what he’d done to the child’s poor mother. She’d seen the blood-splattered wall. There was no way she would let the Nazi have this baby.

  “If he finds Samuel, what will he do?”

  “What he has done to so many others.”

  Mary scooped the baby into her arms. “Sister Clarence, what do you mean?”

  “He was an SS officer responsible for the deaths of thousands of children, in the name of racial purity. I didn’t want to tell you.” She moved to the window and peered out.

  “But how did he find out the baby was alive?”

  “Someone must have gone to him with the truth—perhaps another nurse, or even one of the young women, hoping to gain his favor. All I know is he’s on his way here.” Sister Clarence pulled an envelope from her pocket. “I came to warn you—and to give you this. It is a letter from Samuel’s mother.”

  “A letter from Samuel’s mother? But why didn’t you give it to me before?”

  Sister Clarence kissed the baby’s cheek. “Because she only told me what to write last night. She’s still alive, Mary.”

  “Then why do we have Samuel? Why doesn’t she care for him herself?”

  “Well, there is Hendrick, of course. The baby is not safe here. And … Rebecca is not well. She had a stroke and is mostly paralyzed, and unable to care for her son. She prayed for two parents for him. We prayed with her. Then you came….”

  Mary’s head spun. “Can you thank her for us?” It was all she could think to say. Her voice quivered. “Thank her for this gift?”

  She kissed the top of the baby’s head. What incredible courage your mama must’ve had to give you up. Oh, Lord, thank You. She turned to the window, noticing a wagon approaching.

  “Eddie’s here. We must go.” Mary threw on her coat and gathered her things. “Tell Samuel’s mother we will love and care for him,” Mary called behind her as she hurried out the door.

  “Samuel?” a man’s strong voice boomed. “The baby’s name is Hendrick, after his father.”

  Before Mary realized what was happening, two strong arms grabbed her. She clutched the baby to her chest.

  “Thank you for taking care of my son.” A deep voice, filled with contempt, assaulted her ears. “He will be my responsibility now.”

  “No!” Mary attempted to pull away; then she froze. The man before her held a pistol in his hand. His face was the same face as in the photograph on the dresser at the castle, but he now had a beard. His eyes were even colder and darker than the photo had revealed.

  “You will come with me.” He dragged her to the wagon. “I need a mother for my child, and you’re a pretty pet, aren’t you? I’ve yet to impregnate an American.” He ran his finger down her cheek and along her jawbone.

  Mary dared not look back to the doorway as he forced her into the wagon, not wanting to draw attention to Sister Clarence.

  Go find help, sister. Get Eddie. Samuel and I again need a rescuer.

  The wagon plodded on at a quickened pace, its rocking motion lulling the child to sleep. In the hour since she had been abducted, Mary plotted her escape while her fear rose. Where was Eddie? Why hadn’t he come for them?

  “I don’t understand why you want this child. Doesn’t he represent everything you tried to destroy?”

  “Darling,” Hendrick’s voice purred. “You do not believe what they told you, do you? I expected you to be much brighter than that.” He sighed. “After tormenting myself about this very thing, I realized the girl spoke lies. She knew I had planned to take my son, to raise him without her; and she knew there was only one thing that would change my mind—to say this child was not pure. For me to believe she was a Jew.” He spat the last word as if it caused a foul taste in his mouth.

  “At first I believed her. But then …” He turned and looked at Mary. “Then I realized the truth, and I knew I had to do whatever it took to get my son back. Even if it meant abandoning my work, my uniform, and setting off to find him. And it was easier than I thought. Hans didn’t handle the sight of his mother’s torture well.” Hendrick clicked his tongue. “To think of such weakness in such a large man. It is a shame.”

  Mary felt sick. She bounced the baby even more, trying to get her mind off poor Magda. Yet even more prevalent in her thoughts was worry about Eddie. Where are you? Are you okay? Please be okay. Please save us from this madman before it’s too late.

  Just then she heard the sound of a vehicle approaching from behind them, heading back to Soumage.

  The large army truck stopped just ahead of them, and two German soldiers jumped from the cab. “You there,” one called.

  Hendrick slowed the wagon and stared up at them, annoyed. “What is the problem? Can’t you see I’m on my way home with my family?”

  “Friends of ours fell for your ploy once, but not twice. Get down from that wagon seat, flyer. We have a nice prison cell we’ve been saving for you. Your friends have been waiting.”

  “You have the wrong person, idiots! I am an officer of the Reich
.” He stood on the floorboard of the wagon, staring down at them.

  Mary looked to Hendrick’s hand in his pocket, and she knew the pistol was still in his grasp.

  “Eddie,” she said in German. “Please don’t. They will hurt you. Give yourself up. For my sake and the child. Think of Samuel.”

  “Silence, woman!” Hendrick pulled the pistol from his coat pocket, turning to her.

  “Halt!” The German soldier pointed his gun and lunged at Hendrick.

  Mary saw her chance. She pressed Samuel tighter and jumped to the ground. Her feet sank in the snow, and her bad leg gave out. Samuel let out a cry from the jolt, and she crouched into a ball around the baby as gunfire sounded.

  She looked up to see Hendrick slumped on the wagon seat with multiple wounds in his chest. His eyes were wide open in surprise, and blood spread through his peasant clothing, dripping onto the white snow. She turned away. I’m next.

  The soldier approached, his boots crunching through the snow. He stopped before her, raised his gun, then slid it into his jacket pocket.

  “The nun,” he said curtly. “She made me promise if she told me where the flyer was that I wouldn’t hurt you or the child.” He squatted down, helping her to a sitting position.

  Mary struggled to catch her breath. She rocked the baby, willing him to calm.

  “I will keep that promise.” His voice was firm. “But I will not risk my position or my life to help you. You’ll have to find your own way out of here.”

  The two soldiers took Hendrick’s body, leaving a trail of red dots in the snow, flung it in the back of their vehicle, and drove off.

  Mary cuddled Samuel closer to her chest. He stopped crying as he snuggled under her neck; and she rocked back and forth, letting the tears fall.

  Mary felt a hand on her shoulder. She jerked back, and fear rushed through her. Then Eddie hunkered down before her.

 

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