by Kate Breslin
It was a long shot, but he decided to hold back until that agent had finished with his passenger. When the dark-haired man finally gave him the signal to approach, Colin took the kit bag to the inspection table.
The agent’s frown eased as he glanced at Colin’s uniform. “Welcome to Spain, Lieutenant. You are British Army?”
Colin nodded. “Second Cavalry Division under General Haig.”
The Spanish man beamed. “French Foreign Legion. Second-class legionnaire.”
Colin smiled and offered the man his passport. The agent hardly gave the document a glance before handing it back. “And the bag?”
Colin reached to open it, but his fingers fumbled with the strap. He held up his prosthetic. “Would you mind? I am a bit clumsy with this.”
The agent’s dark eyes brightened with emotion. “It would be my honor.”
The man quickly opened the bag and peered inside. Colin’s pulse raced, watching the agent’s eyes widen at the array of devices—Colin’s steel hooks, eating fork, and the steel pick.
Silently the man closed the bag and refastened the strap. His face contorted with emotion as he stepped back and offered Colin a salute. “Thank you, Lieutenant, for your service with the Allies in France.”
Colin’s heartbeat began to slow as he returned the salute. “And you, Legionnaire.”
He picked up the kit bag and joined Petit and Johanna, who had already reclaimed their luggage. The American raised a brow. “What was all that saluting about?”
“Merely an exchange between comrades-in-arms.” Colin glanced at Johanna. “Are we ready to go into town?”
She took the kit bag from him, smiling her relief.
Petit scratched his head and glanced at both of them. “Sure. I’ll go outside and hail a cab.”
When he’d gone, Johanna linked her arm in his. “That was very brave of you, Colin. And clever, too.”
He glanced at her kit bag. “Luckily our mutual friend behaved himself.”
Her smile broadened. “I consider you both my champions.”
Colin squeezed her arm, basking in her praise.
“We’ve a cab waiting outside.” Petit returned to hoist Johanna’s small steamer trunk under his arm before grabbing up his own bag.
Johanna smiled. “Why, thank you, Mr. Petit. You are most kind.”
Grinning, Petit winked at her. “I’ve been known to be a little chivalrous myself.”
Colin snorted.
Grabbing up the rest of the luggage, the three went outside. While Petit and the cab driver stowed the bags, Colin and Johanna slid into the back seat. “Mr. Petit is being rather helpful on this trip, don’t you think?”
“Charming as ever.”
Johanna’s tranquil expression faded. “Obviously, you don’t appreciate his efforts. You must admit, he seems to know his way around this place. And he’s got Spanish money.”
“I still don’t trust him.” Colin scowled. “He was ready to bribe the customs agents!”
“And what about you?”
“I may have used my situation as a British officer to my advantage, but there was no bribery involved.”
“Only a little duplicity, then.” A smile touched her lips. “All things aside, I suspect Mr. Petit likes you, and that is why he goads your temper.”
He grinned. “Like someone else I know?”
She gave him an innocent, wide-eyed look. “I cannot imagine who you mean, sir.”
He chuckled before a sobering thought intruded. “I wonder if Petit isn’t being too hasty about our leaving in the morning. Could our two friends be here in Portbou?”
“I hadn’t thought of that. Let’s ask him if he can find out.”
“We’re all set,” Petit called through the open window before he opened the cab door and slid into the open seat in front.
When Colin voiced their question, Petit turned to appraise him with a look. “It’s possible they are still here. Once we find a hotel, I’ll check back with the ticket office to see the passenger lists.” Again he jingled the coins in his pocket. “I should be able to find out if they arrived and whether they’ve gone on to Barcelona.”
More bribery. Colin stifled his irritation. It was important to know if Jewel and Kepler were still here. Petit’s money could buy the information and perhaps save them more traveling time.
The driver returned to sit behind the wheel, and Petit exchanged a few foreign words with him before glancing at Colin and Johanna in the back seat. “Our man here says there are a number of hotels in Portbou on Passeig de la Sardana, a street near the beach.”
Colin raised a brow. “So you’re fluent in Spanish as well?”
He nodded. “My second language, growing up in Texas. But these folks speak Catalan, a different language from the rest of Spain.”
Despite his annoyance, Colin was impressed with Petit’s linguistic skills and his ability to adapt in a new land. Johanna was right. Having him along substantially improved their situation and the chances of finding Kepler and Johanna’s sister. “Let’s go.”
Petit relayed a few more words to the driver, and the cab pulled away from the busy railroad station, traveling past a large cathedral and down a steep hill toward the town.
The setting sun cast a pink glow against the scattered clouds in the sky, reflecting a rosy hue against the Mediterranean Sea. Clusters of red ochre rooftops huddled beside the sandy shore, many of the buildings more modern than those in Toulouse.
The taxi finally pulled up in front of a white two-story brick building, and Colin gazed at the wrought-iron lettering above the door. Casa a prop del Mar.
“This is the place, and we’re in luck. They have at least one vacancy.” Petit pointed to the sign in the front window. “Let’s see if we can try for three rooms, shall we?”
A portly man in white shirt and black bow tie greeted them at the front desk. “Bona nit!”
Petit returned a few Catalan words, and Colin was relieved when the innkeeper addressed them in French. “I am Senyor Vilar. Welcome to my house near the sea. How may I help you?”
Johanna stepped up. “We will need three rooms, if you please.”
The innkeeper pulled out a box with keys. “I have just two open upstairs.”
Petit spoke up. “You both stay here. I’ll find lodging down the street.”
“That’s decent of you.” Colin suppressed his relief. “You’re certain?”
“It’s no problem. Besides, I still need to get back up the hill and check with the train station.”
“And you’ll let us know?”
Petit nodded. “If they’re still here, I’ll telephone your hotel. Otherwise, I’ll bring the taxi around in the morning, a half hour before our train leaves. Be packed and ready to go.”
Once he departed, Colin and Johanna signed the hotel register, and Senyor Vilar helped to carry their luggage upstairs. He deposited their bags on the polished wood floor between two numbered doors and gave Johanna the keys. “You may choose which you prefer, senyora. Both rooms are the same, though they do not connect. The bath accommodation is there.” He pointed to a door across the hall. “Will there be anything else?”
Johanna darted a glance at Colin. “Is there a place we can dine, sir?”
“Sí, several cafés along this street offer delicious Catalan dishes, including our own dining room.” Senyor Vilar puffed out his chest. “My wife, Senyora Vilar, will be serving our guests early tapas and drinks downstairs in half an hour if you care to join us.”
Johanna smiled. “Thank you.”
Nodding, he offered a slight bow. “Please let me know if you need anything.”
When he’d gone, Johanna held up the keys marked 201 and 202. “Any preference?”
“Ladies first.”
She took 202 and entered the room with her kit bag. Once Colin had helped her with the rest of her luggage, he settled into his own room before they went downstairs.
The dining room was small yet well-appointed.
Within minutes, Colin and Johanna were savoring the local fare of escalivada—roasted vegetables in olive oil—various other tapas, and Senyora Vilar’s native Valencian dish paella.
Once replete, Colin leaned back in his chair, gazing at the nearly empty plates on the table. “I cannot possibly eat another bite.” His mouth curved upward as he rubbed his full stomach. “No wonder Senyor Vilar has such a jolly look about him. His wife certainly knows her way around the kitchen.”
“It was delicious.” Johanna blew out a sigh and dropped her napkin beside her plate. “Though I think I ate too much. Would you care to take a walk down to the beach?”
He glanced out the dining room window. Darkness had settled, and beyond the terrace, a quarter moon shone white against the sea. Colin could make out the waves crashing along the shore.
“It might be a bit cold.” He turned to survey her lightweight traveling costume. “My uniform is warm enough, but do you have a heavier jacket?”
Smiling, she rose from the table. “I’ll get my woolen shawl and be right back.”
CHAPTER
18
Jo returned with her shawl to find Colin waiting by the terrace doors. While she was glad for the covering, she would much rather have had her tunic and britches. And the boots were a much better choice for warding off the night’s chill air. “I’m ready.”
She paused as a thought suddenly struck. “Or should we stay in case Mr. Petit calls?”
“He would have done so by now.” Colin checked his watch. “Likely our friends went on to Barcelona.”
Jo nodded. “You know, it has been some time since I’ve been to the seashore when there wasn’t a fear of a U-boat or planes dropping bombs out of the sky.”
“That makes two of us.” He smiled, his brow lifting. “Are you sure you’ll be warm enough in that?”
“I’ll be fine.” Wrapping the woolen shawl tighter around her shoulders, Jo felt a sudden tug at the back of her head. She hadn’t worn her hat and realized the pin holding her hair in place had become caught in the shawl’s weave.
Colin realized her dilemma. “Here, let me help.”
Jo’s senses heightened at his touch, his fingers gently working the fabric from her hair before he tucked the shawl snug against her collar. A blush crept into her cheeks. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” His eyes glinted as he opened the terrace door and allowed her to pass.
Jo was glad for the wool shawl once she stepped outside. The air was cool, the breezes off the water making her shiver and clutch the wrap more tightly about her.
“You’re certain you wish to walk on the beach?”
She nodded. “It’s not likely we’ll have another chance. Mr. Petit said he would be here thirty minutes before the ten o’clock train tomorrow morning, and we must be ready to leave.”
“All right, then.” He extended his left arm to her. “Shall we?”
Jo tucked her gloved hand into the crook of his arm. Strolling beneath the lamp lights along Passeig de la Sardana, she noted two cafés and another small hotel. “I imagine Mr. Petit found himself lodging there.”
“Yes, and I admit I’m glad he had to stay elsewhere.”
Jo looked up at him. “I know you don’t trust him.”
“Nor should you. We still don’t know whether or not he entered your room at Toulouse.” He shot her a sideways glance. “If you recall, he and I did not get off to a good start.”
Colin looked ahead as they neared the quay and the steps leading down to the beach. “And of course, we don’t want him knowing about Little Corporal. The farther he stays away from the pigeon, the better.”
“I know I have created a bit of a problem, having my little bird with me. . . .” Jo caught his sardonic look in the lamplight. “All right, quite a problem. But we don’t know what awaits us in Barcelona with Kepler. If he is coercing my sister for some reason, then Jewel may benefit from Little Corporal’s service.” She frowned. “Though I’m not sure how.”
“We’ll find her, Johanna.” He squeezed her hand. “Have faith.”
“Believe it or not, I am trying, Colin.”
“Good.” He smiled. “Now, watch your step.”
Jo grabbed the rail as she carefully descended the stone steps leading onto the beach. Reaching the bottom, her ankles wobbled in the button-up shoes as the short heels sank into the sand. “Perhaps this wasn’t a good idea.” She sighed. “I really miss my boots.”
He chuckled. “Well, I’m wearing mine, so give me your arm again, and we’ll take things slow. If you do end up falling on your face, I’ll return you to the quay.”
“Thank you for your kindness.” Jo couldn’t see his face in the shadows to know his reaction to her teasing. She smiled. Likely he was grinning.
The sand became firmer as they neared the water, though Jo still clung to him. Finally they stopped at the water’s edge, and she breathed in the briny smell of the sea, the cold breeze blowing against her face and teasing wisps of hair from her coil.
Ignoring the tendrils fluttering against her cheeks, she gazed at the white quarter moon. “’Tis so beautiful here, and peaceful. I think I could stay forever.”
“If it were in any other time, we could just be two people on holiday.”
Jo turned to see him looking out at the moon’s reflection on the water. “Wouldn’t that be lovely? No war, no worry about getting enough to eat. No waiting for missing loved ones to come home.”
He turned to her. “I am praying you will get to see your father, Johanna.” Moonlight revealed the compassion on his handsome face. “We’ll locate Kepler and Jewel, and once I determine the truth of her feelings . . .”
“How could she not care for you, Colin?” Jo struggled with the emotion in her voice. “She hid you from the enemy and fed you from her own meager stores. And did she not tend your wound?”
“Yes, she did all of that. But the old wound eventually healed, while this one . . .”
He glanced at the prosthetic between them, and anger rose in her. “’Tis nonsense! You have so much to offer the woman you love.” She glanced away. “Sister or not, if Jewel lets you go, she is a fool.”
He went still beside her, and it was a moment before she could look at him.
“Have you ever loved anyone, Johanna?” He paused. “As a woman loves a man?”
Jo longed to tell him the truth about her feelings, but her conscience prevailed. “My . . . particular circumstances in Kilcoole didn’t offer many opportunities for meeting young men. And in Paris, well, except for André, the only males that hold a place in my heart have feathers.”
He flashed a grin before his smile faded. “If you were Jewel, could you love someone who was . . . altered?”
“How has it altered you, Colin?” She spoke softly as she ached for him. “You have an injury resulting from an act of bravery. And despite what you may think, it does not change who you are.”
Pulse pounding, she disengaged her arm from his and reached for his gloved hand. She placed it over his heart, covering it with her own. “I would love that man, no matter what his appearance. You told me God loves us all, remember? He does not judge by our outward appearance or our station in life, but by what lies within us. Isn’t that true?”
She was not aware of the vehemence in her tone until Colin reached to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. His touch caused a shiver along her spine.
“It is absolutely true.” His voice had gentled. “God sees us with the heart.”
She regarded their hands—hers flesh, his not—lying against his chest. “Then the man I love would be perfectly whole in my eyes. Because my heart would see his integrity, his humor, his kindness, and his wit. It would see his honor.”
When she lifted her eyes and started to remove her hand, he reached around with his free arm and pulled her to him. Their faces were so close she could feel his breath against her skin before the night wind carried it off. His spicy cologne surrounded her as he bent his
head toward hers, and she heard the rush of the waves lapping onto the beach before closing her eyes to experience the first, light brush of his lips against her own.
Jo opened her eyes a moment later and met the intensity of his gaze, the tight angles of his face drawn with emotion. He dipped his head again, and this time captured her mouth in a hungry, relentless kiss, as though he deemed words useless to express what was in his heart.
She stopped thinking as she kissed him back, hesitantly at first, then without reservation as she matched his desire with her own. Jo wasn’t certain when he drew her into his embrace, but she pressed closer, savoring his solid warmth while he sheltered her against the cold night and eased the incessant longing in her soul.
They stood together for seconds, or perhaps hours; Jo lost all track of time.
It was the water soaking through her shoes that finally roused her from his intoxicating kiss, bringing her back to the present. She pulled away as another foamy wave washed across her feet.
“Come, Johanna.”
She heard his voice, felt him tuck her hand back into the crook of his arm as he slowly drew her farther up the beach, away from the water’s edge.
Jo looked up at him, caught in the riptide of her own anguish and guilt. What was she doing, enticing this honorable man to break his vow to Jewel when even now her sister might be Kepler’s hostage? How could Jo assume her sister’s feelings for Colin were any less than her own?
Blinking back tears, she was only half aware Colin still held on to her. “You’ll catch your death of cold if you’re not careful.”
And why shouldn’t she?
“Johanna . . .”
She looked at him. “Oh, Colin, what have we done?”
His jaw tightened, his eyes searching hers. “You’ve done nothing. I am to blame.”
She shook her head and pulled away from him, nearly losing her footing in the sand. “It was a mistake. I never should have suggested a walk on the beach together.”
Jo cast a desperate glance toward the quay and beyond to the lighted terrace of their hotel. “I . . . I must go back and check on Little Corporal.”