I’m home!” Valerie unwound her blue scarf and hung it on the coat tree in the hallway.
“Sissy!” Rebekkah shot down the hall and squealed as Valerie hoisted her high in the air, then snuggled her.
Roy watched the sweet scene for a moment before clearing his throat. “Did you get more cinnamon? We sorely need it.”
“Yes.” Valerie gifted him with a wide smile.
“Tomorrow’s Christmas!” exclaimed Rebekkah.
“Right you are. Come on, let’s go help.” Valerie cocked her head, including Roy in the invitation.
“Sounds good to me.” Roy hobbled along behind them on his crutches as Rebekkah chatted like a magpie.
“Mr. Benson took me out, but I’m not s’posed to talk ’bout it.” The child sent him an exaggerated wink.
“Is that right?” Valerie murmured as she slanted Roy a look over her shoulder.
“Maybe.” He’d taken Rebekkah for a walk over to Mrs. Ainsley’s place and given her a list of things to buy with the money he folded inside the note.
More than happy to oblige, the old lady trundled off immediately. The only hitch in the plan came when he told her he’d included a bit extra for her to use however she’d like.
Mrs. Ainsley had puffed up like a pigeon, using every single bit of her four-foot-eleven height to glare at him with sharp blue eyes.
“Now, Mrs. Ainsley, you’ve been so good to me that I want to get you something for Christmas, but I’ve no idea what you’d like. Besides, this is such a big favor you’re doing for me that I absolutely insist.” With that spur-of-the-moment speech, he’d won her over. He’d just finished stashing the bags she’d brought him when he heard Valerie come in.
“I get the message.” Her eyes twinkled up at him. “I won’t ask any more questions.”
“That’ll be the day.” Paul strode into the room with Rosemary right behind him.
“Oh, honey, I sure am glad you didn’t have to work today!”
Roy couldn’t agree more with Rosemary’s loving words. Valerie’s company made time fly faster than the snow.
“I could use help making gingerbread men for after the service tonight.”
In no time at all, everyone became engrossed in the project at hand. Rosemary threw together the ingredients, then handed the batter to Roy to beat into dough. He passed it on to Paul, who rolled it out and waited for Rebekkah to help him press down the cookie cutter, while Valerie laid the little figures on cookie sheets and popped them in and out of the oven.
“I’ve never baked before.” Roy sniffed appreciatively. “But I could grow to like it.” He reached out to snag a warm cookie, only to pull up short when Valerie smacked his hand away.
“What?” He tried to look as innocent as possible.
“I saw that, Roy Benson. Seems to me like we don’t have as many of these little guys as we should.”
The warm fragrance of ginger and cinnamon filled the house as the final batch baked to a perfect golden brown.
“It wasn’t me! That would’ve been only my fourth one.” Roy poked one of the cookies. “They have legs, you know.”
“Sure. I suppose they just walked off.” Valerie plunked more cookies onto the table, where Roy mixed a large batch of frosting.
“If they didn’t, I’d look at the other side of the table, if I were you.” He pointed at Paul, who gave a noticeable swallow.
“Don’t you be pointing at us!” Paul put his arm around Rebekkah’s shoulders. “We haven’t swiped very many at all, have we, sweetie?”
But Rebekkah, cheeks puffed out like a greedy chipmunk, just kept sticking Red Hots on the tiny dabs of icing to serve as buttons.
After a hearty laugh, they packed up the remaining gingerbread men for the churchgoers. While they finished up, Rosemary laid out dinner in the dining room, since cookies covered every available inch in the kitchen.
After supper, they all piled into the red Pierce-Arrow, Roy taking the front seat since he couldn’t bend his left leg, and rode down to Gethsemane Chapel for the Christmas Eve candlelight service.
“Merry Christmas!” Roy hobbled into the kitchen, where Valerie pulled cinnamon rolls out of the oven.
“Merry Christmas.” She smiled to see him so full of energy. “Everyone else will be down soon. I expect they’re just getting Rebekkah dressed.”
“I’ll get the coffee started,” Roy offered.
“It’s already done. But if you could grab some milk from the icebox for Rebekkah, I’d appreciate it.”
He’d just put the milk on the table when the rest of the family filed in and took their seats.
“Dear Lord,” Paul prayed, “we thank You this fine morning for all You’ve given us. Today we remember how You forsook Your powers to come as a man and save us. Please bless this food on our table and watch over our boys not at home as they protect this nation. Amen.”
After they’d eaten their fill and the dishes were finished, they made a beeline for the living room, where bright packages waited.
Valerie turned on the radio, changing stations until she heard “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen.”
She and Paul passed out all the gifts before anyone opened a single package. Rebekkah fidgeted but stayed polite as ever.
In no time at all, wrapping paper and ribbon lay scattered across the floor, and a barrage of “thank yous” echoed.
“The diary is wonderful, Mom. You remembered that my two-year journal would be all filled up come January!” Valerie hugged her mother joyfully.
“You’re welcome, honey. I love my little music box.” Rosemary lifted the lid, and the spritely tune competed with the radio.
Valerie got up and shut off the radio, instead opening the Victrola to place her brand-new Jimmy Dorsey album on it. “Green Eyes” filled the air as she thanked Roy.
“Every time I hear that song, I think of you—you’re the first girl I’ve ever known with green eyes, Valerie.” Roy’s thoughtfulness tugged at her heart. He was such a special man—and it went beyond his thick hair and deep gaze. Despite his frustration over his leg, he stayed patient with Rebekkah, kind to her mother, and companionable to Paul.
Although Valerie had never heard him utter a single word of complaint about how much his leg must hurt, every time he heard about the war, the pain in his eyes deepened. The physical discomfort of his broken leg didn’t hurt him half as deeply as the reminder that he wasn’t out there protecting the country.
Lord, help me, but a part of me is glad his leg will never completely recover. It means he’ll be safe from the war. I couldn’t bear it if I lost another man I care for to the Nazis.
“And thank you for the Chinese checkers,” Roy said as he set the box on the coffee table. “You’ll have to give me a chance to try it out this afternoon.”
“Gladly. It’ll be fun.” Valerie looked at the box. “You know, I think we could all play tonight—it says up to six players.”
“Count me out.” Paul held up two books. “I’ve got other plans. Thank you both—Roy for Call It Courage, and Valerie for Daniel Boone. I’m going to enjoy these.”
“I’m up to a game.” Rosemary pulled on her new fleece gloves and wiggled her fingers. “These are perfect, Roy. Thank you!”
“You can use my special Christmas table.” Rebekkah dragged over a tiny chair and whumped her new teddy bear on top of it.
Valerie was glad Rebekkah liked Teddy. She hoped it would help to have another cuddly friend in bed when the nightmares came again.
“I’m gonna draw a picture for Uncle Roy with my crayons.” Roy had given Rebekkah a set of Crayolas, and she busily scribbled on a sheet of scrap paper until it was time for lunch.
“When are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
At Roy’s pointed question, Paul peered over the top of his newspaper. “You already know that Hitler took complete command over the German army and that Churchill arrived in Washington just before Christmas…. And as of the New Year, the U.S. and twenty-f
ive other countries have signed a contract of war against the Axis powers and pledged no separate peace—”
“I’m not talking about what I can read in the newspaper or hear from the radio, Paul,” Roy said, cutting into the older man’s recitation. “Level with me.”
“Listen,” Paul said as he put aside the newspaper, “the news is about as accurate as we can get. You know that preliminary data is always sketchy. I will tell you that for the first time in our nation’s history, we’ve established a federal office of censorship to filter information concerning the war, but that’s more for the protection of our troops’ positions than to keep anything from the public. It’s not designed to infringe on our rights.”
“Interesting, but that’s still not what I mean.” Roy held up a rag doll. “And you know it.”
Paul shrugged. “We already told you—the dolls are sent to Valerie’s cousins Axel and Annelise in Denmark, where they are trying to keep an export-import business afloat.” He picked up his paper and raised it once more as he added, “They distribute them there. The dolls are quite popular, I hear.”
“Don’t try to pawn a surface cover story off on me. You should know better.”
“What makes you think there’s anything else going on?” Paul tried to sound casual, but Roy sensed the purpose behind the question. If he could convince Paul that his suspicions stood on solid ground, he’d be let into the fold.
“First, why can’t they just transport the raw supplies and contract the work to be done in Denmark?” Roy led off with an easy question.
“Rosemary and Valerie are happy to help their cousins. This way, they don’t have to pay for the dolls to be made,” Paul explained. “It’s better business.”
“That’s what I figured at first, but too many things don’t add up.” Roy dove in. “What about that letter Valerie received yesterday? She started to read it aloud but got slower the farther down she got. After the news that the Nazis were forcing Dutch physicians into serving them, she stopped altogether. What did she leave out?”
“How would I know?” Paul scoffed. “I don’t read her mail.”
Obviously Paul wasn’t going to cave in easily. But the more he denied, the more important the matter truly was, and Roy didn’t intend to be left in the dark. He brought out the big guns.
“Don’t forget I was practically raised in Europe. Rebekkah is no little Danish girl. Even before I saw Valerie write her name yesterday as winning tic-tac-toe, I had my suspicions. She’s Jewish. Those nightmares she has are part of the reason you brought her here. She was in danger.” Paul met his gaze steadily and gave a slight nod. Good. He was making headway.
“So what do you think is going on?”
The question was more than a challenge—Paul had thrown down the gauntlet. If Roy’s suspicions didn’t come close to the truth, this conversation would be over.
Lord, You know how much I want to be a part of defeating the Axis. If this is Your plan for me, let my words be true.
“Rebekkah has one of those dolls. As far as I can figure out, they’re used to smuggle something into Denmark—small things.” Roy put the pieces together, building his case. “I would’ve guessed ammunition, but that’d be too heavy. For some reason, you’re sending money over to Denmark. More than Valerie’s cousins would need for just themselves. And the last time you visited, you brought home a Jewish child. You’ve worked out some system where you’re using the dolls to save Jews from the Nazis.”
“Well done, Roy. I’d hoped you would catch on. The navy can be proud of how well we trained you.”
“What are the specifics?” Roy carefully kept his voice neutral and waited eagerly.
“We send valuables in the dolls. In Denmark, they take out the jewels or cash or what have you and use it to fund the creation of documents enabling Jews to leave the country. Rebekkah is one of the children who depended on us.”
Roy sucked in a deep breath. “Do the women know?”
“Rosemary and Valerie do. Rebekkah doesn’t understand it. She just knows that I came for her, and we’re her family now.”
More questions raced through Roy’s mind, but he knew better than to push. “Then why are we sitting here reading the paper?” He stood up.
“You’re right.” Paul heaved a resigned sigh. “A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”
“Sir, yes sir.” Roy saluted him, then grinned. “I’ll go get the needles and thread.”
Chapter 4
You could just give up now,” Roy suggested, looking entirely too happy with himself as he lounged in his chair.
I would be annoyed, but his eyes are sparkling again. If it makes him smile to win a game of Chinese checkers, that’s a small price to pay. Not that Valerie would let him know, though.
“Never!” she shot back, giving her hair a saucy flip and reaching for the board as Paul walked into the room.
“Losing again, is she?”
“I don’t think she’ll ever admit that naval officers can’t be beat when it comes to strategy.”
Roy’s comment proved to be the straw that broke the camel’s back. Valerie pretended to ponder her next move; then, just when Roy shifted in his seat, signaling his restlessness, she sprung into action, hopping one of her green marbles over the “bridge” he’d just finished making for his own use.
“Nice one, honey.” Rosemary walked up beside Paul.
“Well, what do you know? Maybe you’re in trouble after all, Roy!” Paul teased, but their smug smiles faded when Valerie hopped her final marble into its slot, beating Roy by at least three moves.
“Well, Roy, I think you’ve met your match.” Rosemary winked at Valerie before leaving the kitchen.
“I certainly have.” Valerie’s breath caught at the intensity of Roy’s gaze. He gathered his pieces and gently placed them in her palm, the marbles still warm from the heat of his hand.
“It’s time to go to the store, Val!”
“Coming, Mom!” Valerie held the marbles a moment longer before putting them away and rushing outside.
When they got to town, Rosemary took off the gloves Roy had given her and stepped into Nannington’s General Store. “Hello, Abel.”
“Good morning, Rosemary. What can I get you today?”
“A bit of everything, Mr. Nannington.” Valerie laughed.
“I need a book of three-cent stamps, a loaf of bread, a gallon of milk,” Rosemary rattled off, “two yards of green flannel, a dozen eggs, and twenty pounds of sugar—the ten-pound bags, please.”
“See?” Valerie quirked an eyebrow at the shopkeeper.
“I reckon your daughter had the right of it, after all.” Abel grinned as he rummaged through the shelves, plunking down the requested items. “But I’m fresh out of the ten-pound bags of sugar.” He hopped down from his step stool. “Had a run on it since we declared war. People remember how it was with the Great War not so long ago. I have three five-pounders left. I can call you soon as I get more in, if you’d like. You’re probably real low after all those cookies you made for the Christmas Eve candlelight service. Those sure were tasty.”
“Thank you, Abel.” Rosemary took out her wallet. “What does that come to?”
Valerie gasped when she heard the price.
“Sorry, ma’am. Prices have gone up a lot in the past month. Bread and eggs are a full cent more per order, and milk is on the rise, too,” Abel explained. “It’ll be worse before the war is over.”
“I expected that.” While Rosemary paid the bill, Valerie grabbed the box of provisions and carried it out to the car.
“I hate to break it to you, honey,” Rosemary said, sliding into the driver’s seat, “but a time may come when we can’t get some of these things at all. War leaves no family untouched.”
The door creaked open. Roy hurriedly jabbed his needle deep into the doll he was working on and stuffed it behind his back just as Valerie walked into the room.
“What are you doing?” She gave him an odd look
as he swung the Duncan yo-yo Rebekkah had given him for Christmas into a perfect cat’s cradle.
“Nothing much,” he evaded, reaching for the paper. “What were you gals up to?”
“We went to the store. Just finished putting things away.” She strolled over and stood behind his chair. “If you’re going to read, you’ll need more light.”
He caught a whiff of violets as she reached over to turn on the lamp … and instead snatched the doll he’d been hiding.
“I knew it!” she crowed triumphantly, only to have her grin replaced by a puzzled frown. “Do you really like sewing that much?”
“Not really.” He prayed she’d drop it. No such luck as she spoke once more.
“So you figured out most of it, and Paul filled you in on the rest.” She tossed the doll onto his lap.
“Yep.” He cautiously lowered the paper. He waited for her to say something more, but she just started filling another doll with cotton batting. He put down the paper and resumed work on the one in his lap. They worked in companionable silence until he finally asked, “How’d you know Paul didn’t just tell me?”
“This was our only concern about bringing you here. Paul promised he wouldn’t tell you unless you figured it out, and his word is his bond. Besides, you’re too smart for your own good.” Her smile softened the words, making them a compliment. “Oh, and that’s what happened with me, too. You have to put the pieces together yourself before anyone will tell you if you’ve done it right. Discretion is vital.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” he vowed.
“I know.” She met his gaze in earnest, those green eyes giving her words meaning beyond the conversation. “I trust you.”
The next evening, as the adults sat in the family room, stitching as rapidly as possible, the news came on the radio.
“As you all know, last Friday saw the creation of the U.S. Joint Chiefs of Staff. This week is shaping up to bear just as many historic occasions. Yesterday, Washington sanctioned the establishment of the National War Labor Board to oversee wartime economy. This sparks fears of rationing, as was the norm in the Great War, so women around the nation are flocking to their neighborhood stores to stock up on essentials such as sugar …”
A Sentimental Journey Romance Collection Page 28