by Diane Moody
Anya clamped her teeth together. What could possibly have caused such a cruel scene to play out in her mind? She yanked the cap off her head and raked her hand through her hair, thinking she must surely be losing her mind. She held the cap pressed against her face and rocked back and forth, wondering why she couldn’t just die and get it over with. What was the point? Life held no meaning any more. Not like this. Better to rot in a grave than have her heart broken and stomped on by something as foolish as a dream.
Someone tapped on the truck’s window, scaring a scream out of her.
“I’m so sorry!” Danny said as he opened the door.
“You scared me to death!”
“I know, but I didn’t know how else to get your attention. Why did you have your hat over your face?”
As her heart started beating again, she huffed. “Don’t ever sneak up on me like that! I could have shot you!” She jumped down from the truck’s cab onto the ground beside him.
“Are you carrying a gun?”
“Of course. I always carry a gun.” She slapped the hat back on her head. “What are you doing out here anyway? It’s almost one o’clock in the morning. It isn’t safe to be out.”
“I was worried when you didn’t come in with Frederic.”
She started walking toward the house, then paused, looking back at him. “Where did you get that?” she asked, pointing at the single crutch beneath his arm.
“Eduard got it for me from one of the other safe houses.”
She looked him over, carefully avoiding his eyes. “Well, come inside before you get us both arrested.” She opened the back door, holding it as he hobbled through, then closed it behind them.
“When Eduard told me you all were on your way back, I waited up.”
“I can see that, but you shouldn’t have.” She pulled off her gloves and stuffed them in her coat pocket. Still standing in the back entry hall, she looked around him at the uncovered stairway leading down to the cellar. “You should get some rest. Is everyone else asleep?”
“Yes, I believe so. And Frederic went downstairs as soon as he came in.” He limped to her side. “Anya?”
She pulled off her jacket and cap, hanging them on the peg beside the door. “What is it, Danny?” She didn’t mean to snap at him. He was only being kind to her. Why was she always finding excuses to be rude to him?
She stopped abruptly, frozen where she stood—her back to him, her hands still on the jacket she’d just hung up. The fresh, vivid memory of the dream roared through her, overwhelming her with the same compelling warmth and security she’d felt in his arms.
Anya heard him closing in behind her. “Anya, I was just hoping we could—”
Without a single trace of hesitation, she turned and grabbed his face, pulling it down to hers, kissing him with a passion she hadn’t known she possessed. Her heart pounded in her chest as his arms wrapped around her, his crutch banging against the floor where it fell. He kissed her with such hunger, holding her so tight, so secure in his arms, she could hardly breathe. As she lost herself in his embrace, she realized—it was just like in her dream.
And just as in her dream, Anya could no longer deny it.
This truly is my destiny, the place where I belong. I know that now. But how? How can it be? After all these years, how is it possible?
Danny was afraid to open his eyes. Could this really be happening? He kissed her tenderly, then pulled back. “It’s really you. I can’t believe—” He leaned his forehead against hers. “Anya, it’s really—”
“I had a dream,” she whispered, her voice warbled. “I was back at home and Mother was there, and Hans, and all our friends. And then we were on the canal skating, and I could hear someone crying for help, and I skated to the crack in the ice. And then I looked down and stretched my hand out . . . and it was me! I was the one drowning!”
She was talking so fast he could hardly understand her. So he simply held her as she wept, her face buried against his chest, her body trembling in his arms. “Shhh. You’re not drowning, Anya. You’re here, safe in my arms.”
She looked up, searching his eyes as tears streamed down her face. “I know—that’s what I’m trying to tell you. I was so scared and frightened and—and so cold. I knew I only had one last chance. I pushed up once more from the water . . . and you lifted me up, Danny! It was you.”
He pushed a strand of dampened hair out of her eyes, then cupped his hand around the side of her face. “Well, there you have it.”
She hiccupped. “Have what?”
“It must have been a dream because I’m not much of a skater.”
She laughed and cried and burrowed deeper into his embrace, all the while murmuring, “You saved me, Danny. You saved me.”
He rested his chin on her head. “I would lay down my life to save you, Anya, if you’d let me.”
She wept quietly in his arms for a long time. When she finally took a long rugged breath, he released her. “Could I be a bother and ask you to help me into the other room?”
Anya seemed perplexed, but willingly wrapped her arm beneath his, letting him lean on her as they made their way to the bedroom. At the doorway, she hesitated. “Danny, I don’t think—”
“Anya, we’ll leave the door open,” he said smiling. “And we will sit on the bed, not in the bed. We have so much to talk about, but I can’t stand any longer because of this blasted foot. I assure you, my intentions are that of a gentleman.”
She smiled through her tears and helped him into the bedroom where he’d first stayed. “Then we shall sit on the bed, not in the bed, and I shall assure you my intentions are that of a lady.”
She stacked pillows behind him as he settled onto the bed, then slowly made her way to the door. “But we shall not leave the door open, Lieutenant McClain, because it is none of their business what we do.”
“Well, I, uh . . . then if, uh . . .” He swallowed hard.
She climbed on the other side of the bed and snuggled up against him, pulling his arm around her. “Wait,” she said, reaching down for the quilt folded at the foot of the bed. She wrapped it over them and returned to his arms.
“Now I am the one dreaming,” he said, taking hold of her hand. “And if I am, then I never want to wake up.”
She looked into his eyes. “When you found me in the truck, I was furious, Danny.”
“Why?”
“Because Frederic had just awakened me from that dream, telling me we were back here. I felt so angry, so cheated. I’d been in your arms, but then I wasn’t.”
“That’s why you were mad at me?”
“Yes! Well, no. I wasn’t mad at you, I was just so disappointed. If you must know, I was mad at myself for having such delusional dreams.” She laid her head on his shoulder. “For so long I have . . .”
He waited, not wanting to rush her but praying she would share her heart with him. “Go on.”
“For so long I have wanted no one to come close to me. I couldn’t . . . I wouldn’t let anyone get near to me. These people here, they are co-workers only. Nothing more. I respect most of them, but never do I let them become my friend. Except perhaps Eduard. He is more of a father figure, I guess you would say.”
She paused, and he waited again. He stroked her hair, giving her as much time as she needed. He would wait as long as it took for her to tell her story.
“It is because—I knew if I lost again, I would not survive. I have lost everyone.”
He listened for more, stroking her hand with his thumb. When she finally spoke again, her words were slow. Deliberate. As if each was harder to speak than the last.
“Hans. Mother. Father . . . and Wim.”
For hours, he had wondered. The entire time she was gone, he had tried to think what possibly could have happened to Wim that the mere mention of his name could cause her such sorrow. He knew Wim must have died, but how he died, Danny had no idea.
“Tell me about him, Anya. I know he meant a great deal to you.”
/> She nodded, her head still resting on his shoulder. A moment passed then another until she finally began to tell her story. She told of traveling with Wim to transport children from one safe house to the next. She told of close calls and frightening situations, their lives always in danger. She told him of their clandestine return to Utrecht and making their way to Wim’s farm. She lost her voice as she told of finding little Inge, her friend’s baby sister, alone in the field beyond the farmhouse. She grew animated as she described Wim dashing to bring the baby out of that field and their unbridled fear, both of them knowing that something was terribly, terribly wrong.
Anya grew quiet again. He said nothing but silently prayed for God to give her courage. When she continued, she fought to get the words out. “Wim insisted on sneaking up to the house to find out what had happened. Almost as soon as he left my side, I felt a gun pressed against the back of my head. I was so afraid . . . I held little Inge close, so frightened we would be killed. The soldier came around to stand before me, moving the gun to press it against my forehead.”
Danny swallowed hard. He wished he knew how to spare her this pain.
“I begged him not to hurt us. But . . . all of a sudden, he turned the gun to Inge’s head and . . . he shot her. He shot her!”
She sat up, pushing her hair out of her face with trembling hands, then cradling her arms as if holding a baby. “She fell limp in my arms. And I wanted to kill him!. I was so . . . but then I threw up, and he kicked little Inge’s body aside. He pulled me up by my hair, then . . . then suddenly, he just fell to the ground. Wim had smashed a rock over the German’s head! And he was there with me. Wim was there with me, and he held me . . .”
Danny held his breath as he listened. He grieved for the wild look in her eyes, knowing she was reliving the horrible scene. He knew she had to do this, and so he remained silent.
“Wim told me the Germans had . . . it looked as if they had lined up his family along with the Jews they’d been hiding beneath their barn, and . . . and they executed them. His parents, Lieke—all of them.” She paused to wipe away the endless tears. “And then as he held me—”
She stopped. He said nothing.
“A shot rang out. And I looked over Wim’s shoulder and saw the German soldier—we’d thought he was dead but he wasn’t. And just as I saw the smoke coming from the gun in his hand, I felt Wim’s body slump against me. And I knew he’d been shot. The soldier—he moved the barrel of his gun, pointing it straight at me—” Anya fought to find another breath. “I knew he was going to kill me. And I wanted him to kill me!” She shook her head back and forth. “But the gun fell from his hand and his head fell into the dirt.”
Danny watched as she cried silently, her body quaking now and then with the remnants of her grief. He watched and waited. Then he gently gathered her into his arms, tucking her safely beside him. “Oh, Anya, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her head against his chest. They remained that way for more than half an hour. At first Danny murmured assurances that she was safe now, that he would protect her. Eventually, he felt her breathing grow more relaxed and hoped she would fall asleep. The images of what she’d described were now seared into his mind and his heart broke for her. How could anyone so young have endured so much? How had she survived carrying so much pain, so much despair?
When he was sure she’d fallen asleep, he laid his head back against the pillow, closed his eyes, and prayed.
Lord, none of this is news to You. I don’t begin to understand why . . . why she’s lost everyone in her life, why so much evil is all around us, and why so many have lost so much. It wears me out, wondering about all of it. But somehow, through all this pain and sorrow, You brought me to Anya. And just now, I know it was You who gave her the courage to open her heart. I don’t know what You have in store for any of us, Lord, but I’m begging You from the bottom of my heart . . . let me guard and protect her. Don’t let this war come between us.
God, please just give us a chance.
56
Danny woke as someone tapped on his shoulder. He looked up to find Eduard standing beside him, a gentle smile on his face. He nodded toward Anya.
“At last she has found rest.”
Danny looked over to find her sound asleep beneath the quilt, her back curled up next to him. In any other situation, he might feel embarrassed, but there was no need. As he turned back to respond, Eduard continued.
“I’m sorry I must disturb you, but it is necessary for us to move you.”
“What? But I thought they told me to—”
“Come. We must talk.”
Eduard had brought his crutch and helped him to his feet. Danny tried to move off the bed without disturbing her.
“Danny?”
He turned. “I’m sorry, Anya. I had hoped not to wake you.”
She sat up and yawned. “Eduard, what is it?”
“We have received word that we must move out all of our Allies. It seems our liberation may soon be happening, but the Germans will not go easily. Already they have begun going house to house with a greater sense of urgency, intending to eliminate any remaining Jews and those who have taken them in. But far more valuable to them at such a time as this are the Allies who have slipped by them. Downed pilots, paratroopers who came in to work behind enemy lines, everyone. It is imperative we get all of you out of here as soon as possible.”
“But won’t it be more dangerous to travel with Allies in our vehicle?” Anya asked, climbing off the bed to join them. “We’ll be stopped at every roadblock. And if we are, I doubt Frederic’s tales will deter them if they are as desperate as you say.”
“That may be, but no one is safe here now. Already our friends in the other safe house across town have been killed—”
“What?”
“It seems an infiltrator had joined ranks with them. Always we are told to be careful, to be suspicious. This is why. Now, we have all been compromised.”
“Who? Who was the traitor?” she demanded.
“It does not matter now. The infiltrator tipped off the Germans about a meeting scheduled in their safe house cellar. When they all gathered, the Germans threw live grenades below and killed them all, including the traitor.”
“Will it never end?” she cried, knotting her fists. Danny pulled her to his side, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.
“Yes, it will end. And soon,” Eduard said. “All around us, they fight to free us. But we are not free yet. If anything, we are in more danger now than ever before. Which is why we must hurry.”
Only then did Danny notice the uniform shirt and trousers Eduard was wearing. It wasn’t one he’d seen on any of them. But before he could ask, Eduard interrupted his thoughts.
“I have already sent the rest of our staff to their homes. Frederic and I will drive. We must stop in Apeldoorn to pick up three more airmen who came in over night. Anya, you will ride in back with Lieutenant McClain and the others we pick up.”
“But he’s in no condition to travel,” Anya argued. “If something should happen, how could he—”
“I’ll be fine,” Danny said. “But Eduard, I want Anya to come all the way to England with me. How can we make that happen?”
“No!’ She backed away from him. “I cannot leave now! There is too much to be done here. Tell him, Eduard.”
Instead, Eduard headed for the door. “There is no time for such an arrangement now. Get your things. We move out in five minutes.”
Danny hobbled to her side again. “Anya, you have to come with me.”
“No, Danny. I can’t leave. Not like this.”
“Like what? You board the fishing vessel with me and the other Allied airmen. You help others do it all the time, now it’s your turn. I want you with me where I can protect you.” He reached for her hand but she raised her palms, taking another step back.
“You cannot protect me. None of us can protect each other. You should know
that by now.”
He grabbed her wrist, holding firm, and made her face him. “Please. At least think about it. You said yourself, you’ve lost everyone here. Come with me. At least we will have each other. At least—”
“No, Danny.” She pulled her hand free and started toward the door. “I can’t..”
“Then I won’t leave without you.”
An exasperated huff escaped her lips as she turned back toward him. “Now who’s being stubborn? You cannot stay.”
He made his way toward her. “Me? Stubborn? I thought you had the corner on that market.” He reached for her hand then dropped his voice. “It took all these years to find you, Anya. I can’t risk losing you now. I won’t risk losing you.”
She dropped his hand. “So ‘all these years’ you have been searching for me?” she asked, moving into the hallway. “No, you did not. You went to college, you enlisted to fight the war—”
“Which brought me to you,” he said, following her. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”
She shook her head as she grabbed her jacket and cap. “And I don’t believe in happy-ever-after fairy tales.”
“Anya!” Frederic summoned from the back porch. “Let’s go!”
She held up a weathered coat. “Put this on, Danny. We must hurry.”
As he climbed into the coat, he pleaded with her. “Just tell me you’ll think about it. Promise me you’ll at least think about it.”
When he turned around, she rolled her eyes while placing a worn Fedora on his head. “I make no such promise. Now come along. I’ll help you into the truck.”
As she helped him down the back steps, he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of a member of the Gestapo in full uniform. “Wha—”
“Don’t worry,” Anya said tugging him down the final step. “Say hello to the Lieutenant, Frederic.”