Into the Storm

by Lisa Bingham

  “You stupid, meddling bitch!” he hissed in her ear. “You’re no more an American operative than I’m Papa Noel.” He swore fiercely in German. “You should have kept your nose out of my affairs.”

  The pistol was biting into her flesh. He held her so tightly, she couldn’t breathe.

  “If you’d just kept a blind eye to things a little longer, this wouldn’t have happened. An invasion is inevitable.”

  RueAnn sobbed, squeezing her eyes shut just as a shot rang out, deafening her.

  For several long moments, she waited for the pain, the blackness of death. Then, as a weight dragged against her, she realized that it was Peabody who was falling into her, his body dragging hers to the ground. Screaming, she stared up into a pair of unseeing eyes sunk into a head that had been torn asunder.

  Scrambling free from his body, she struggled to push herself to her feet. She leaned against a portion of crumbling brick wall. Wildly searching for the source of the shot, she looked up in time to see a figure limned against the inferno beyond. He stood tall and lean, his arms bent at his side, feet braced apart.

  RueAnn sagged against the bricks, wondering if she, too, had been hurt. If this were heaven or perhaps hell. Because she had to be imagining the familiar outline of the man striding toward her.

  But as longing swept through her body on the heels of an unfamiliar exhilaration, she began running forward—knowing that if heaven or hell awaited her, it no longer mattered. This was what she had been searching for—not just days, but years.

  She launched herself into his arms, and Charlie caught her, staggering, gripping her so tightly that she couldn’t escape even if she’d wanted. His heart thumped in tandem with her own, his breath warm and real against her ear as he whispered her name. Then he was lowering her feet to the ground.

  He drew back, looking down at her, and for a moment, his gaze caught and he swallowed hard. Following his line of sight, she saw that the Cracker Jack ring she’d worn around her neck since coming to England hung in plain sight, glinting dully in the fire’s glow.

  Shoving his pistol into his waistband, Charlie plunged his fingers into the soft waves of her hair, dislodging the pins so that loose curls framed her face.

  In his eyes, she found such a mixture of joy and wonderment that she could scarcely believe he was looking at her. Her.

  “Dear God, how I’ve missed you,” he rasped.

  And it was the sound of his voice, that beautiful, husky voice, that caused the tears to well up and fall over the dams of her lashes.

  Then he was pulling her tightly toward him, his lips crashing over her own—and it was as if they’d never been apart. Passion swelled between them, filling RueAnn with a heady sense of belonging and more. So much more.

  When he drew back, his own eyes glimmered with a betraying sheen.

  “I’m so sorry. So sorry,” he whispered, but she stopped him with a finger.

  It no longer mattered that he’d taken her letters. Nor did she care if he’d read them. In his eyes, she could see that there was no secret, no horrible deed she might have done that could ever frighten him away.

  He loved her.

  Charlie Tolliver…loved…her.

  Wrapping her arms around his neck, she knew that there would be a time when she would want him to tell her everything—what he’d been doing in Washington, where he’d been all these months, how he’d managed to find his way back to England. But for now, all she wanted was this moment. This man.

  “Welcome back, Charlie,” she whispered against his ear. “Welcome back.”

  She felt him sob against her, felt the wetness of his cheek as he pressed his lips to her ear. Closing her eyes, she fingered the softness of his hair and reveled in the strength of his arms.

  Then, drawing away, she wound her arm around his waist and pointed them both toward fires of London saying, “Let’s go home.”

  Epilogue

  Sweet Briar, Maryland, U.S.A.

  September, 1943

  RueAnn moved among the rose bushes, pruning them for next year’s spring. The yard had taken some work to return to its former glory. The house had too—although the exterior would probably have to wait for the end of the war before it could receive a proper coat of paint.

  But RueAnn found she didn’t worry about such things. After surviving the worst of the Blitz, she didn’t bother herself with such inconsequential matters as peeling paint. She had a home here. A true home. Everything else, as Glory Bee O’Halloran would say, was just gravy.

  The sound of a car crunching up the drive caused her to turn and she waved at the tall figure who emerged.

  Charlie still limped, even after all this time. But secretly, RueAnn was glad. His injuries had kept him away from active duty. He’d been returned to Washington D.C. Not as an undercover agent, but as a special liaison with America’s emerging OSS. But then, she wasn’t supposed to know about that. Just as she wasn’t supposed to know that Charlie had spent the year before the war trying to organize a series of British spies inserted into American society.

  “Come along, sweat pea,” RueAnn said, calling to the toddler who’d been playing in the grass. As the wind blew, loose petals showered down on her like a colorful snowstorm and the baby giggled, running through the bushes, her arms upstretched. She had blue-gray eyes like her father. Her grandmother.

  Not for the first time, RueAnn felt a pang of love that rivaled only that of the emotions RueAnn felt for the child’s father. When she’d discovered she was pregnant, RueAnn had worried that her own upbringing had been so hard, so joyless, that she wouldn’t be able to love a child the way she should. But when the tiny bundle had been laid in her arms and had looked up at her with Charlie’s eyes, Charlie’s coloring, she’d realized that she needn’t have worried. She’d been taught how to love by all of the people who’d gathered around her when she’d needed them most. And in doing so, she’d discovered the joy in being needed.

  Smiling, RueAnn held out her hand.

  “Come along, Edna Louise. Your Daddy is home.”

  Then she swung the little girl into her arms and made her way to the house and to Charlie.

  Acknowledgements

  This novel has been a labor of love for several years. The first germ of an idea appeared when I saw the now-famous photographs of Londoners taking shelter in the Tube. For fifty-seven consecutive days, the Nazis tried to bomb London into submission or surrender. As I looked at these photos—as well as the resulting destruction—I was amazed at the way the British refused to be cowed. Not for the first time, I found myself thinking that a great many war stories have been told of men marching off to the front, but what about the women who were left behind?

  What followed was a fascinating journey of research—not just of the women of the Blitz, but of the emerging independence of all females and the shift of their roles in society. Many of the details that I have used in my novel (the naked mannequins, the rationing, and the Anderson shelters) are based on historical fact. However, in some instances, I beg your forgiveness for “dramatic license.” The men of the UXB unit would not have been privately billeted, but their role during the Blitz was so important that I felt the story would be incomplete without their presence. For this and any other faults, please forgive me.

  I would also like to thank several people who have been instrumental in bringing Into the Storm to life. To the gang at Browne & Miller, thanks for all of the encouragement, advice, endless readings, and diplomatic interventions. It has been such a joy to know that my “baby” has been taken care of with such love and diligence. To those at Diversion Books, thanks for bringing Into the Storm to my readers. To Nancy and Danice, the first to cheer me on when I was embroiled in writing and rewriting—and the first to celebrate when Into the Storm found a home. To my children, who were patient while their mother lost her mind a little bit, and my husband who was willing to wait “just a few more minutes…”

  And to my father, who would never share his
stories past the boat ride to Honolulu where he served with the Army Air Corp. I was only a teenager when he made the statement, “War isn’t all bands and glory.” He was so serious and reflective, that the statement made me curious about what “really happened.”

  More from Lisa Bingham

  The Bengal Rubies

  A young woman makes a desperate attempt to find freedom, only to fall prisoner once again — to love.

  Condemned to be auctioned off to the highest bidder by her own father, Aloise Crawford makes a desperate attempt to escape. When the ship she is imprisoned on docks, she jumps overboard. When she finally swims ashore, she finds herself at the feet of a dark stranger with a face as angry as it is alluring.

  For years, Slater McKendrick has lived in hiding, awaiting his chance to seek vengeance against the man who stole his family’s precious jewels, the Bengal Rubies. So when Aloise arrives on his lonely beach hideaway, it seems as if the opportunity has at last been delivered to him. But while he holds her captive on his estate, he recognizes the same broken spirit in her that sees in himself.

  As the flame of passion ignites, Aloise knows that Slater remains the force standing between her and freedom. But while she cannot trust him, will she have the strength to resist her newest captor?

  Distant Thunder

  A chaste beauty, a hardened lawman, and a love impeded by the shadows of the past.

  A haunting truth too terrible to share drives beautiful Susan to live as a nun, hiding the reality of her past even from her lifelong friend, Daniel. Growing up, Daniel was her protector and savior, yet when he returns to town, her orderly life is abruptly thrown into disarray. No longer is he the boy from her childhood, but a striking lawman, both dangerous and desirable.

  Determined to make Susan his wife, Daniel arouses her deepest passions and unlocks her darkest secrets. But before they can embrace the promise of the future, Susan must confront the past she worked so hard to keep hidden.

  Eden Creek

  From the seeds of haunting secrets grows passion and love

  After a devastating betrayal leaves Ginny Parker broken and alone, she hastily agrees to marry a man she’s never met and start a new life in Eden Creek, Utah. Orrin Ghant only wants a woman to help raise his three daughters, and a companion with whom to share life in the Utah wilderness. But upon the arrival of Ginny, he soon finds his new wife has brought with her more than he could have hoped.

  As they slowly settle into their new lives together, Orrin never expects to fall so deeply for Ginny’s sweet smile and gentle charm, nor does Ginny expect to find such comfort in Orin’s strong embrace and the tranquility of Eden Creek. But while their marriage of convenience blossoms into true love, secrets from the past loom over them, testing the bounds of their fragile new beginning.

  Silken Dreams

  A wanted man seeks refuge with the girl who wants him most.

  Lettie Grey is in love with a man who exists only in her thoughts. The highwayman, dark and dangerous, dwells in her most wanton fantasies where he stirs her deepest desires. But when Ethan McGuire, a bank robber and fugitive, arrives in her small town, Lettie realizes the sensual stranger of her imagination is more than just a dream.

  On the run from the law and a ruthless band of vigilantes, Ethan seeks shelter in the safety of Lettie’s small attic bedroom, and in the heat of her embrace. But can a man who trusts no one give away his heart in the midst of a fight for his life?

  Silken Promises

  In games that are as perilous as they are passionate, everyone plays for keeps.

  When Fiona McFee first meets the straight-laced deputy Jacob Grey, he is naked and bound in a field of foxtails. A con man’s daughter through and through, Fiona leaves him there as he swears to never forget her. True to his word, Jacob tracks Fiona to Chicago years later, and he has an offer for her that she can’t refuse: A full pardon for her and her father in exchange for her help in catching a counterfeiter. All she must do is pose as a wealthy British widow and play poker on a tourist train heading West.

  With her freedom at stake, as well as another chance to outwit Jacob, Fiona must perfect her poker face as she gambles for the fate of her future. But neither she, nor Jacob, can ignore the undeniable attraction between them, and as the stakes of their deadly game soar to new heights, the thin line between inevitable danger and unyielding desire begins to blur.

  Now both Fiona and Jacob have more to lose than either of them bargained for— their hearts.

  Temptation’s Kiss

  To tame the beast in a man, one woman must unleash her own animal nature.

  Chelsea Wickersham seeks a new start. The conservative English governess agrees to tutor the long-lost heir of the mysterious Cane estate. But when she arrives expecting to find a boy to teach, she is instead introduced to a strange and terrifying sight: Sullivan Cane, a feral, uncivilized man.

  But Cane is craftier than any beast. Taken from his island hideaway, forced to return to his family estate in Scotland, he strives to outwit his calculating brethren. He plays the role of wild man that they all believe him to be, but even as he grows exhausted of his savage pretense, he also discovers an unexpected pleasure in watching the walls of Chelsea’s façade crumble.

  As passion sparks between teacher and student, a sinister enemy lurks in their midst, threating their love and their lives. To survive, and to be together, this untamable man must learn to act his part, and this upright woman must learn to unleash the animal inside of her.

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