by Jan Moran
As the wind whistled above them, Henri took Juliana’s hand in his. “It’s getting late and the weather is bad. I’d feel much better if you stayed here. There’s another stateroom you’ll be comfortable in.”
“I’d like that. We can continue our conversation, too.”
After supper, Henri brought out a board game and they all played Monopoly. Beatrice amassed a small fortune, but at the end she insisted on sharing her winnings with Juliana.
“Then I owe you a bedtime story,” Juliana said.
At that, Anne and Beatrice rushed to bed. The girls cuddled on each side of Juliana, mesmerized as she told them a story that her mother had told her as a child. Rain began to dribble onto the portholes. The girls hugged their knees to their chest. This scene of domestic tranquility tugged at Henri’s heart. He saw Juliana fitting into their lives, but would they offer enough to her?
After he’d tucked in the girls and kissed them goodnight, Henri put his arm around Juliana while they made their way through the passageway. “I happen to have a fairly decent cabernet on board. Care to join me for a glass?”
“Only if it’s your wine.”
“It’s my best vintage.”
While the rain intensified, Henri opened the wine. He carried the wine and two glasses to a seating area, where they sat on a built-in couch surrounded by pillows. Finding two candles in a cabinet, he brought them out and touched a match to them. The flames flickered against their wine glasses and threw shadows on the bulkheads surrounding them. Here they were safe, protected from the elements—and the past.
Juliana raised her eyes over the rim of her glass. “Will you leave tomorrow?”
He was quiet for a moment, thinking about what he had planned. Monterrey, central coast, Marina del Rey, Newport Beach, San Diego, Baja California. Yet nothing seemed as important as the woman sitting beside him now. “We’d planned on it, but now, it depends. Or we could have a short voyage. Would you like to join us?”
“Maybe,” she replied, a smile touching her lips again.
Henri touched his glass to hers. “Here’s to us, and to veritas.”
“To us and to truth.” Juliana sipped her wine and waited patiently for him to speak.
He cleared his throat and prayed she’d understand. “My grandfather immigrated to this country from France. My father was born here and joined the United States diplomatic service, so we had moved a lot. In 1935, I was 15 years old, and they decided it would be better for me to go to boarding school to have the benefit of staying in one place.”
“That’s when you went to Switzerland.”
“Yes, and when I finished school, my parents wanted me to return to the States. But I was young and idealistic. I had cousins in France—Solange and others—and a lot of my closest pals from school were from France. When we graduated in ’38, I went for a holiday to my grandfather’s vineyard.”
Henri swirled his wine, staring into the shimmering depths as if gazing into a portal to the past. “Then the political borders began to shift. Hitler annexed Austria in 1938 and then took Czechoslovakia. Just a year later, the Nazis invaded Poland from the west, while the Soviets seized the eastern portion. That’s when France and Britain declared war against the Nazis.”
“Why didn’t you come back to the States?”
“There, I was needed. I wanted to make a difference and stand up against violence and oppression. My family and friends needed me. That was so much more important to me than going home.”
Henri watched the rain sluicing across the portholes, remembering just such a night long ago, hidden in the dark cellar of a farmer’s home. Sweating and praying he wouldn’t be discovered. Henri shuddered involuntarily.
Composing himself, he continued. “One of our friends from school—Solange’s boyfriend—was forced from his home with his family. They were imprisoned in a Nazi concentration camp.” He sipped his wine, trying to calm and order his thoughts. “No one ever heard from the family again. That’s why Solange and I joined the resistance movement.”
Juliana cradled her glass in her hands. “So you did serve in the war.”
“We did what we could, all over France. I helped liberate Paris, too.” As Henri stared into the candles, visions of the past took shape. The flames dredged up the memory of his great aunt’s tortuous death.
“Tell me what you’re thinking right now,” Juliana said gently.
“I can’t,” he said, his words strangled. For years, his nights had been haunted by the waking nightmares he’d witnessed. He squeezed his eyes shut.
Juliana rubbed a hand along his shoulder. Henri brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. Only Solange had shared his darkest memories. When he had wakened screaming in the night, it was she who had raced to him, comforting him until he had regained control, even on some of her sickest days. She was the only one he had trusted with his secrets.
Solange was gone, but Juliana was here with him now. And it was time he tried to trust someone again, rather than locking away his heart and family. He licked his lips and began. “I was thinking about my great aunt Geraldine, one of the sweetest souls I’ve ever known. She died in the village Oradour-sur-Glane in the summer of ’44.”
Drawing an unsteady breath, Henri went on. “Oradour-sur-Glane was a peaceful village in the Vichy-governed part of France. Acting on a tip that later proved false, Nazi SS troops stormed the village.” He choked back a sob. “When I heard what happened, I went looking for her. What I found was gruesome. There, after hearing the rain of gunfire that had killed husbands and fathers and sons, women and children were herded into a church and set aflame in what became a fiery inferno. The entire village was massacred. More than six hundred innocent people.” The stench of charred bodies was forever burned in his brain. Henri wiped cold sweat from his brow and gulped his wine.
Glancing at Juliana, he could tell she was shaken. Yet she leaned in and brought her arms around him, as if to shield his present from his past.
Henri clasped her to him. She’d pried open a rusted door in his soul where his nightmares resided. Only the sunshine of another soul could banish the darkness from this hellish dungeon. For years he’d been unable to feel pleasure. Only Anne and Beatrice could shine light into the recesses, but they were children, and he could not share what he’d been through with them.
“I’m here for you, Henri, and I’m not going anywhere. You can tell me anything. I won’t judge you.”
For the first time since Solange had held him on his darkest nights, he let sadness seep from eyes. When he was spent, Juliana kissed way the wetness from his cheeks. Her heart beat against his and for the first time in his adult life, he felt the depth of woman’s true love.
But there was more he needed to tell her.
He brought his hands to her face, framing the most beautiful, empathetic eyes he’d ever hoped to see. “You must know that I am not without sin. I did… things that had to be done to protect others, but I will always regret taking another life, even those of my enemies. They, too, had families and loved ones. Though there is, undeniably, unfathomable evil in the hearts of some people.”
Juliana held him as he continued talking. He was beginning to feel as if he could tell her anything.
“Most of my work for the French resistance was disruptive. We made it hard for the Nazis to operate and advance. We jammed communications, sabotaged railroads, and blew up bridges. Solange worked with us, too. We also ferried people to the south when we could, passing them off to others who helped them escape through the Pyrenees to Spain. A lot of these escapees were downed Allied pilots who needed to return to the fight. Some were regular citizens who were facing certain death if they remained—Poles, Jews, political dissidents.”
Henri poured more wine in their glasses. “One time, my team got word that a train loaded with Nazi troops and supplies was heading our way en route to Normandy. We worked out a plan to mine a train tunnel through a mountain with explosives to block the exit. When the trai
n entered the tunnel, our equipment jammed. When it finally worked, we ended up exploding the train as it was exiting. Then, the entire side of the mountain caved in on them.” He hung his head. “We saved troops at Normandy, but I’ll never get over killing all the men on that train.”
He took another swallow of wine. “Now you know.”
Juliana raised her eyes to his. “You were at war. Many of these men would have died in the battle anyway.”
“The fact is, I would do it all over again if I had to, Juliana. Maybe that’s what disturbs me the most. On the other hand, we saved many lives and helped bring an end to the war. I just wish we could have saved more people. We would have, too, if....”
“If what?”
Henri blew out a breath. “If we hadn’t been captured. Me, my team. And Solange.”
Juliana looked up at him, her eyes wide with shock. “What?”
“Solange was sent to the women’s camp at Ravensbrück. It was really rough on her. She was near death when the camp was liberated and never really recovered.”
“And you?” Juliana asked gently.
“Late in ’43 I was sent to Natzweiler-Struthof in the province of Alsace, which is in northern France, but the Nazis had taken the region. We were called the ‘Nacht und Nebel’ prisoners, meaning that we were sent there to disappear into the fog and night. Few people even knew of the camp’s existence. It’s where resistance fighters were sent. They wanted us separate from the rest of the prison camp population. I managed to escape, along with a couple of others, a few months later.”
Henri fell silent, though there was more, much more. He stretched his neck, trying to relieve his tension.
“I am so sorry you had to go through that.” As if to soothe his troubled heart, Juliana tenderly stroked his chest. “How are you now?”
“My nightmares have decreased, but I’m told they might never go away entirely.” He sighed. He had returned a changed man: hypervigilant, reclusive, depressed. Only Juliana had been able to draw him into the sunshine, where he felt more like his happier, younger self.
Juliana was quiet for a few moments. “How did you come to have Anne and Beatrice?”
“My most cherished souvenirs,” Henri said. “After the camps were liberated, I set out to find Solange. Our grandfathers were brothers, which makes us second cousins. She was like the kid sister I’d never had. Anyway, prisoners from the concentration camps poured into the DP camps for displaced persons. I visited several before I found her.”
He blinked hard, remembering all they’d gone through. “Solange had a friends who had been impregnated by a Nazi guard, but unfortunately, she died giving birth. The woman had no family left, so Solange took care of the baby.” He smiled. “That was Anne. Just look at that sweet child now.” He paused, his eyes misting with memories.
“And Beatrice?”
“A few days later, Solange woke to little Anne’s cries. When she looked in the basket, there was another infant that someone had left. So Solange claimed them both as her own.” He looked down. “After the medical experiments that had been inflicted on her in the camp, she knew she’d never have children of her own. So I took them all back to her grandfather’s vineyard. But Solange needed more medical care. After the war, the hospitals were overcrowded and underfunded, so I brought her to my parent’s home in Boston.”
“That explains a lot. Do Anne and Beatrice know about their history?”
“We shared a lot with them, except for the more grisly parts, because we didn’t know if we could keep them. In the end, I claimed them as my wards in a French court to get them into the U.S. Once we arrived, we heard so much about the California wine country that we moved here. We wanted as far away from the memories of war as we could get. Solange had lost her family in the war, and her grandfather left the winery to a grandson when he died. I’m glad we came here, because Solange died in a beautiful, peaceful place.”
“And how did you learn the wine-making craft?”
“From Solange and her grandfather. Of course, I couldn’t manage Chateau Laurent without help. And that includes you, too, I hope.”
They both fell silent. Even if his past was too much for her to understand, he felt stronger having finally unburdened some of his heart’s troubles.
“That’s quite a story,” Juliana finally said, her voice subdued. “I can’t imagine what you went through or how you made it out alive. It makes my childish behavior seem even worse.”
Outside, the rain subsided and the winds calmed. Henri caressed Juliana’s face, touching his lips to her smooth skin. “So now you know my past and why I’ve kept to myself. And then there are the girls. I won’t blame you if you decide it’s too much to handle.”
Henri held his breath, waiting for her reply. He knew that for the rest of his life he would bear the scars of war, but having someone who understood would make it tolerable. If she would have him.
Slowly, Juliana sipped her wine, and then pushed it aside. “Thank you for being honest with me. It’s one of the most important traits I look for in people. I’m sure you feel like you took a risk in telling me about your past, but that has only made me love you even more.”
Henri swept her into his arms, relief flooding his being. “Oh, Juliana, my love, those are the words I’ve longed to hear you say.”
Chapter 11
“That’s where I’d like to plant more cabernet vines,” Henri said.
Hooking her arm through his, Juliana shaded her eyes and followed Henri’s line of sight along a rolling hill. She walked through the well-tendered vineyard with Henri, who was taking her on a more extensive tour of Chateau Laurent than before to see the entire house, vineyard, and wine-making operation.
The sun was warm on her shoulders and she’d swept her hair back with a coral-colored scarf. She wore a white cotton sundress that Henri had bought her on their sailing trip. They’d all sailed to Monterrey and back to San Francisco on the vintage yacht. Her gold bracelet jingled on her wrist, as the snake and rooster swung side by side. Henri wore a white t-shirt under a blue denim work shirt and trousers. On board the boat, he’d relaxed and adopted a more casual style.
They’d all had fun in Monterrey. Beatrice and Anne were amazed at the otters and seals frolicking in the bay, and at low tide they spotted an assortment of sea creatures they’d never seen. The four of them had sailed around the Monterrey Peninsula admiring the breathtaking scenery, where windblown cypress trees lined the shores. Juliana had never seen Monterrey from the ocean vantage point, and it was utterly spectacular.
Henri brushed a few wisps of hair from her forehead. “After our trip to Monterrey, I feel reinvigorated. Being on the water, breathing in the fresh sea air, and most of all, being with you, gave me a chance to look at life through a new lens, to imagine what the future might hold for us.”
“I agree,” Juliana said. “I feel I’ve been given a second chance to build the life I’ve always dreamed of.”
“I’d like to create a new life together.” Henri paused. “I’ve been places where a morsel of food, a blanket, or a small show of mercy meant the difference between life and death. Though I will never forget, now I’ve been given an opportunity for a life few can ever hope to receive. My grandfather left the fruits of his life’s work to me, and I’d like to put that to good use. The Children’s Hospital and clinics are just the beginning of what we could do.”
“I love your ideas,” Juliana said. “My specialty is spreading the word, so I think we’d make a good team.”
Henri hugged her close to his side. “That’s the best part of all.”
Juliana loved hearing that. During their sail, they’d had so many long talks on the boat after the girls had gone to bed. Once he’d confided his most intimate secrets to her, their relationship had quickly advanced to a new level of trust and intimacy, though they’d maintained separate staterooms with the girls on board. Their most intimate expression of love could wait, they agreed, though it was growing increa
singly difficult. Juliana observed the customs of her faith and he respected that.
“I meant to tell you,” Juliana added. “I received a call before I left the boarding house. Your new Chateau Laurent wine labels are ready. I can pick them up for you tomorrow.”
“Let’s go together. I can hardly wait to see how they’ve turned out. You really elevated the design Solange began. I think she would have been thrilled.” Henri rubbed her hand, so comfortably resting on his arm. “We can have lunch on the pier. I know a place that has the best garlic crab and oysters Rockefeller.”
Juliana groaned, her hand on the stomach. “Are you seducing me with food again? That cioppino you brought on board was out of this world.”
“You bet. With food… and wine. Speaking of which…” Henri stopped at a vine to inspect the small, tight grapes, the berries of the vine.
“The leaves and fruit are already turning,” Juliana said. The rich burnished color was signal that harvest was soon.
“These cabernet berries are bursting with life and vigor.” Henri popped a couple of grapes in his mouth and handed her a few. “Consider the promise the cabernet grape holds within its fruit, the transformation it undergoes, and the witness it will be to celebrations, good friends, and love.” His eyes crinkled in a smile. “Especially for us.”
“I’d like that.” She tasted the grapes. “These will make a fine wine. It’s going to be a phenomenal vintage this year. I can feel it.”
“So you do have intuitive powers, just as the woman in Chinatown said.”
“I’m predicting many good things this year,” she said with a wink.
Henri squinted in the sunlight of a cloudless sky. “If this warm weather keeps up, we might have an early harvest this year. And now that we have labels, we can start bottling the wine that’s been aging in barrels.”