“You need to do more than that.”
“I know I do . . . as much as I hate to admit it. I guess I didn’t think about my parents. I only thought of just us getting in trouble.” She clicked her tongue then shifted her chin to her shoulder as though to glance at Roth behind her, only she didn’t look straight at him. It was more of an acknowledgment in his direction. She faced me once more, lowering her voice even more. “But I suppose I should end it.”
“Promise me you will.”
“I promise.”
“I know it’s difficult and you have feelings. But I truly believe it will be for the best.”
“I know.”
I gave another look toward hauptmann Heinrich. Of course, he was just a young man; no different from the young men I’d grown up with on the island. He’d always shown me kindness when coming into the bookshop to check my titles, or when I asked him if I could place an order for more. And perhaps, just as Violet said, like so many I had come in contact with, he probably didn’t want to be here anymore than I wanted him here. Not to mention, knowing Violet, she wouldn’t fall for a wicked man or an evil man. No, if she felt as though she loved him, there was no doubt he was nice and kind. Perhaps even dare I say, he could be a friend.
All that aside, however, he was still a German.
He was still a Hauptmann.
And he was still a Nazi.
“I’m going to go back inside. I wouldn’t stay here too much longer if I were you,” I pointed toward the street, “someone is bound to stroll by and see you.”
“I know.” Tears misted Violet’s eyes. “I’ll be inside in a moment. I just need a few more minutes with him.”
My stomach churned as I left her in the darkened alleyway with her secret beau and went back inside St. George’s Hall. Oblivious to what I’d witnessed, Henry smiled as I approached the table, then his face twisted slightly as he furrowed his brow.
“Everything all right?”
My heart thumped. I hated the thought of lying to him or even not telling him, which I felt was a form of betrayal, and yet, I knew it would not only ruin the evening, but it would cause a scene I didn’t know if I could handle. I could almost picture him flying into a rage and storming out, down the street, looking for her. Screaming, causing attention—little things that could collect more layers of pain and trouble like a snowball you roll in more snow and it grows bigger and bigger. Even if Henry, too, knew Hauptmann Heinrich as a nicer officer in the German army, I doubted he would see it fit for Violet to date him.
“Yes, it’s all right. It’s just cold outside.”
“Did you find Violet?”
I nodded. “She’s just getting some fresh air. She should be back soon.”
“Is she all right?”
I shrugged. “I think so. She’s just . . . she’s just feeling lonely, I suppose.”
He smiled at me for a moment, studying me as he cocked his head to the side.
“What is it?” I asked, trying hard not to laugh at the nearly blissful expression on his face.
He shook his head for a second and without saying a word, he reached over and grabbed my hand in his. His fingers grazed along mine. It wasn’t the first time he’d grabbed my hand or traced his fingers along mine. It wasn’t even the first time he’d touched me or showed affection. We had hugged and he had kissed my forehead or cheek. We had even held hands while walking down the lane or home from town. However, no matter how many times we’d seem to have grown closer, there were still questions between us we had yet to answer. Were we dating? Was he my boyfriend? To be asked now, I suppose my answer would be no. And yet, I would also have to say that with some level of uncertainty.
We had yet to define . . . us.
“I know you said you didn’t wish to dance . . .”
“Did I? I thought I just said I had two left feet and couldn’t.”
He closed one eye and scrunched one side of his face. “I’m pretty sure you said no.” He snorted a laugh. “However, I just might have to drag you out onto the dance floor anyway.”
“I think if you tried, you wouldn’t have to drag me as hard as you think you would.”
Giving me a wink, he rose to his feet and grabbed my other hand, leading me out, not to the side of the dance floor as I had hoped, but to the middle.
“You do realize I’m about to look ridiculous to everyone in the place, don’t you?”
He pulled me in tight into his body and kissed my forehead. “Have a look around. No one cares what anyone looks like. We are all just trying to enjoy ourselves.”
Without another word, he stepped back, and still holding one of my hands, twirled me around so fast I lost a bit of my balance and fell into him. We both laughed as he continued to dance and I continued to stumble my way around with him.
It wasn’t until the end of the night that we stopped to collect our breath and sit down to rest our feet. Even Ian had found a few of the older women around the island who, not only had come to celebrate too, but I think secretly had always taken a fancy to Mr. Ian Barrow after his wife passed away. Although, I doubted he would partake in anything more than a little flirtation or a dance around the hall for the one night, however, I also couldn’t help but notice the sparkle in his eye and the smile beaming on his lips. It was hard to see him now and think about how a month, or even just a week, from now, he would probably change back into the same old man, who although he enjoyed his life and time spent with his grandson, also seemed to cast a shadow for himself.
Happy, but sad at the same time.
I suppose that is what happens though when you lose the love of your life. You are never quite whole again. No matter how many dances or pretty ladies give you attention.
“It’s almost midnight!” Ivy bounced in her seat before she stood and yanked Ernest up, too.
“Good,” he said, yawning. “I’m ready to go home and go to bed.”
“Oh, come on, when was the last time we were out of the house past curfew?”
“Well, never since it’s against the curfew.”
His tone made everyone at the table laugh, and Ivy waved her hand as though to brush off his mocking words. “Oh, you know what I meant. When was the last time we were out at this hour? There is that better?”
“Yes, it is. I can’t say that I even remember a time we were out this late. Perhaps New Year’s Eve 1939, before the occupation. Or New Year’s Eve 1940, when Major Lanz allowed us to celebrate.”
“All right. All right. I get your point. It’s been a year since we’ve been able to enjoy ourselves past curfew. Still feels like longer.” Ivy rolled her eyes as Ian laid his hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t worry about it, Ivy. He can’t spoil your excitement with pesky little things like facts. You go on and think what you want.”
As the big hand on the clock ticked another minute closer to midnight, everyone around the hall stood and turned their attention on the countdown. A little ping of regret seemed to settle in a few of us, myself included, as I knew they set the clock to German time and not England time. While we were celebrating, our loved ones would be an hour behind us.
It was just another way for me to feel disconnected from my sister, Amelia.
Henry grabbed my hand, squeezing it as he glanced at me before we started counting down with the rest of the crowd.
“Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Happy New Year!” Everyone’s voices blended together as people counted, cheered, and clapped. While Ivy and Ernest shared a kiss, Violet, who had returned and sat quietly at the table for the rest of the night, leaned over to give Ian a hug.
Several others around us kissed each other, too, and watching them for a moment, Henry glanced at me. I bit my lip. My heart thumped, deepening my pulse so it beat hard in my ears, deafening me to the sounds that suddenly felt as though they were far away from me.
“Happy New Year,” he said to me.
“Happy New Year.”
He moved
his body around mine, inching closer to me as we stared at one another. He leaned down closer to me and I closed my eyes, waiting. He didn’t kiss me, though, and as I opened my eyes, he was just staring at me.
“I love you, Evelyn,” he whispered.
“I love you, too.”
“Ian? Ian?” Ian!”
Henry and I both jerked our attention toward Violet and Ian. She stood, holding him up while he clutched his chest. His entire weight rested on her as though he had collapsed, but she was holding him up.
“Ian? Henry? Help him.”
Henry and I both rushed to her side, and Henry helped Ian down to the ground. He lay over his grandfather. “Grandfather? Can you hear me? Can you answer me? Grandfather?” He called for him several times as a crowd gathered around us.
“You need to get him to the hospital,” I said.
“I know. Go get the lorry. We can put him in the back.”
Follow this emotional and gripping WWII trilogy with the other two books today!
Mine: The Promises Between Us (Book Two)
Ours: The Promises Between Us (Book Three)
“You never get another yesterday.”
It’s something my mother used to always say, and although I heard the words, I never knew what they meant. At least not until my life had utterly fallen apart.
Two lives. Two stories. One fateful afternoon family secrets from the past are uncovered.
Another Yesterday: an emotional journey of love, loss, and hope
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Angela lives on a ranch in Oklahoma with her husband, two daughters, and many farm animals. She was born and raised in Nevada, and grew up riding and showing horses. While she doesn’t show anymore, she still loves to trail ride.
From a young age, she always wanted to write a novel. However, every time the desire flickered, she shoved the thought from her mind until one morning, in 2009, she awoke with the determination to follow her dream.
www.angelachristinaaarcher.com
COPYRIGHT © 2021
Cover Art by Victoria Cooper Art
Editing by Regina Walker
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.
Published in the United States of America by:
Long Valley Press
Newcastle, Oklahoma
Yours: An Emotional and Gripping WWII Family Saga (The Promises Between Us Trilogy Book 1) Page 29