The woman held his gaze long enough to tell him she was interested. She was not his idea of a great beauty. Her hips were too thin and her face unremarkable, but sometimes a man had needs to attend to.
He turned his attention back to the paper, flipping to the editorial page featuring a piece that spoke of Germany’s industrial success and its desire to collaborate with its French neighbors, who enjoyed a flourishing cultural life.
Germany, he would wager, would flex her muscles very soon and cross the border into France. However, she would not be bearing a laurel wreath. If Madame LeBlanc had taught him anything, it was how to read the winds of change and to be charming to the right people. That skill had carried him higher than he had ever imagined. It would see him through whatever conquest Germany had planned.
His gaze was then drawn to the image of a wine merchant who was holding a regional wine competition. It was not the contest or winner that was of such interest to him, but the man who owned the shop. His name was Max Shubert.
In all these years, he had not forgotten the shop where Diane had gone for supplies that last day. He had followed her long enough to see her vanish into the store, and then he had raced back to find Madame LeBlanc alone. He glanced at his hands, remembering how they had tingled when he squeezed her neck with the rope. Even to this day, he regretted hurting her, but then again it had been her own fault. She had tried to cheat him. He knew, despite her denials, she had stolen several priceless pieces from the foolish Mrs. Howard.
Suddenly restless, he folded the paper and looked up toward the woman. He had no interest in her now and was most anxious to visit Shubert’s shop. Pierre rose, tossed several coins on the table, and walked briskly across Le Havre toward Shubert’s wine shop.
When he reached the corner across from the shop, he saw a young woman leaving. She had lovely hair and a delightful figure that forced him to pause and watch. As she crossed a street, a car honked its horn, startling her, and she looked back his way. His breath caught in his throat when he saw her face.
All these years, he had imagined Diane in many incarnations. What would he do if they met again? He imagined time would have changed her, aged her. But now as she stood before him, he could see that she had aged barely a half dozen years. She was as he had always imagined her fully grown into womanhood.
Old needs to possess and control her rose up like a leviathan from the ocean. He didn’t know what she remembered from that long-ago night, but whatever it was, he could not risk her coming forward and publicly calling him a murderer.
In truth, the idea of killing Diane made him as giddy as a young boy with a new toy.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Diane
Age 48
Monday, April 10, 1939
Le Havre, France
Adele returned with a few tablets the pharmacist said would help with Elise’s fever. Diane crushed the tablets into a fine powder and mixed them in water before helping the thirty-year-old woman sit up and drink.
“What is wrong with her?” Adele asked.
“A fever, but from what, I do not know. Many things can go wrong when a woman is pregnant.”
Adele nibbled her bottom lip, a habit she’d had since she was a young girl. “What are we to do with her?”
“Papa and Mr. Shubert will return soon, and you and I are going to help this girl and her young son get to a boat waiting for them in the harbor.”
“Why?”
“Her husband was arrested in Germany, and Max fears she might again be in danger.”
“Why?”
“Because it is a matter of time before the Germans are marching into France.”
“But the men in the village say France can hold her lines.”
Diane pressed her hand to Elise’s forehead. “I don’t believe that, and neither does Papa.”
“What will we do if the Germans come?” Adele said.
“That is a problem for another day. First we must get this girl to the pier and onto the boat.” Downstairs the door opened and closed, followed by a steady beat of footsteps on the stairs.
“What about the unborn baby?” Adele said.
“We have delivered babies in the village before.”
“You have.” Adele frowned. “Does that mean you’re getting on the ship?”
Diane’s own father had never told her that he was leaving her for good when he took her to the LeBlancs’ home. She had hated him for that deception for many years, and now, she was about to do the same to her own daughter. What mattered was that Adele got on that ship and sailed to the safer waters of the Chesapeake Bay.
Gilbert appeared in the door. “It’s time to go.”
Grateful she did not have to answer her daughter’s question now, Diane rose and crossed to her husband, quickly explaining Elise’s condition. He nodded grimly, ordered Adele to pick up the baby and the small bag of diapers and bottles beside his cradle, and then he and Diane helped Elise up, and together they walked her down the stairs to the waiting car in the alley.
Max sat behind the wheel, his gaze ahead and his fingers gripping the wheel. “How is she?”
“Not well.” Diane scooted into the back seat. With Gilbert’s help, Elise was laid across the seat and rested her head in Diane’s lap.
Elise moaned softly. “My baby.”
“Both are fine,” Diane said, stroking her hair. “Stay calm, and we’ll get you all to safety.”
“There was a man watching the shop,” Max said.
“Who?” Gilbert asked.
“I don’t know,” Max said. “But I have a few friends that are watching him.”
Adele sat in the front seat between Max and Gilbert with the sleeping boy in her arms. She looked back at Diane and shook her head as if she knew their lives were going to change forever.
Almost an hour later, Max pulled the car up onto the dock beside the Mayhew. The car ride had been tense, the silence broken only by Elise’s moans and the baby’s heavy breathing.
Max shut off the engine, and he and Gilbert stepped out. The moon was full and illuminated the calm waters of the harbor.
“We’ll be right back,” Gilbert said to Diane.
She smiled at him, not sure it was possible to love a man more than she did. “We’ll be waiting.”
The two men made their way down the dock and were greeted by another sailor. Under the light of the full moon, the three men spoke, and then the sailor vanished before returning minutes later with another man.
“Who are those men, Mama?” Adele stared out the front window toward the approaching men on the dock.
“They’re going to help us,” Diane said.
“Who are they?”
“The tall one, I think, is Samuel, the ship’s second mate. He’s a very good friend of your aunt Claire’s.”
“But we aren’t going with them, are we, Mama? It’s just Elise and the baby that are going?”
“We cannot send Elise off alone, Adele. She’s going to deliver this baby very soon.”
“But there must be a ship’s doctor.”
Diane closed her eyes, feeling unshed tears sting her eyes. She was grateful her daughter still stared ahead and was not looking her in the eye. “I must ask a very hard thing of you, Adele.”
“What is that?”
“I need you to get on that ship with Elise and her son. I need you to take care of them and see to it that they get to America safely.”
Adele twisted in her seat, and her stark blue eyes were filled with disbelief. “I cannot leave you and Papa.”
“It will not be forever, Adele. You’ll visit with your aunt, and once the winds of war have blown over, you’ll return to Papa and me.”
“How do you know there’s going to be a war?”
“I just do.”
The car door opened, and Gilbert and Max helped a nearly unconscious Elise out of the car. Max tried to lift his daughter but was not strong enough. It was the seaman with broad shoulders and a firmly set jaw
who took Elise easily in his arms. The front door opened, and the other seaman, who was short and had thick auburn hair, extended his hand to Adele. At first Adele did not take it, but Diane beckoned her to do so.
Diane scooted out of the car and grabbed the small rucksack she had packed for Adele. They all made their way to the ship. Max kissed his daughter and grandson on the head, and the seaman carried her aboard the ship.
Adele stood stoically by her parents’ side. “I don’t want to leave.”
“You have to leave,” Gilbert said softly.
“But there’s the harvest at the orchard and the bottling. I’ve promised several of the girls in the village to help with a summer dance. I can’t leave.”
Diane hugged her daughter closely. “I love you more than anything. But you must go. Take this bag. There’s a letter in it for Claire and things I want you to have.”
“But you should come with me,” Adele said.
Diane shook her head as she smoothed a lock of her daughter’s hair back. “We can’t. Your father and I have to stay.”
“But why?”
“Because war is coming,” Gilbert said. “And we can’t abandon our home.”
“But I can stay and help,” Adele said.
“If you do, Elise and her son will likely die, and we won’t be able to do the work that will be needed of us,” Gilbert said.
“You’re too old to fight, Papa,” Adele said.
“There are many ways I can still help,” he said.
Diane kissed her daughter on her cheek, and then Gilbert took his daughter into his arms.
The seaman cleared his throat. “We need to go now, or we’ll miss the tide.”
Diane and Gilbert walked their daughter up to the gangplank and stood as they watched her climb aboard the ship. Diane looked up as a woman appeared on the deck. She was blonde, finely dressed, and Diane knew instantly it was Victoria.
Victoria, the young girl whom her sister Claire had cared for and guarded secrets for, raised her hand and nodded. Diane slowly raised her own, realizing she was turning her life and heart over to a woman she had never met. “Take care of her,” she said.
“I will.” Victoria turned toward Adele and tried to escort her belowdecks.
But Adele ran to the railing of the ship. “Mama!”
Pain Diane had never felt racked her body as she turned with Gilbert and began to walk away from the ship. Tears welled in her eyes and streamed down her face. Had her father felt this way when he had walked away from her?
Gilbert’s chin was set, and his gaze nailed directly ahead, but he intertwined his fingers with hers and held her hand tight. “Don’t look back. We must do this.”
“It won’t be forever,” Max said. “It will not.”
When they returned to the car, Diane did look back to see her daughter still standing on the deck. She wanted to follow her child, protect her.
Samuel stood guard at the end of the gangplank and was turning when car lights flashed over them. The car parked beside theirs, its engine still running and headlights cutting through the night air. A man climbed out.
At first, Diane could not make out the man’s face, shadowed as it was by the headlights. But when he stepped forward, she saw the glint of a gun and then his triumphant expression.
A familiar feeling of dread cut through her body as he approached. It was Pierre, and he was grinning just as he had years ago when he’d pushed her down the stairs.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Megan
Wednesday, April 11, 2018
Norfolk, Virginia
1:00 p.m.
The doctor was silent as he cleaned out the baby’s mouth and nose and then rolled her on her side and began to rub her between the shoulder blades. Megan waited for the cry that would assure her the baby was okay.
More silence coiled around her, and she looked up to Rick’s and Helen’s faces, hoping to see some kind of reassurance. Instead, Rick’s expression was stony, as if he was already bracing himself. And Helen’s eyes glistened with tears.
“What’s going on with the baby?” Megan asked.
Helen tightened her grip and stood stock-still, just as she had at Scott’s funeral.
The doctor did not answer. He rubbed the baby harder between the shoulder blades. The silence stretched.
And then the room echoed with the baby’s loud wail. The doctor and nurse both relaxed as he handed the baby to the nurse.
“It’s a girl,” Dr. Monroe said.
“Can I see her?” Megan asked.
“Give the nurse a second to check her out. She’s a little thing.”
“Is that bad?” Megan craned her neck, trying to see the child, who had vanished with the nurse off to the side.
“We like the babies to go to term, but sometimes they’d rather come early,” the doctor said. “Judging by that cry, she has a good set of lungs.”
Megan watched the nurse’s back as she measured, poked, and prodded the now-screaming newborn. Megan was mindful of the doctor delivering the afterbirth and cleaning her up, but she was anxious to hold her baby.
“Next time you have a baby, Megan,” the doctor said, “don’t cut it so close.”
“I didn’t realize I was,” she said.
The nurse turned, a pink bundle nestled in the crook of her arm. Excitement, worry, and fear collided as the nurse came closer and then laid the baby in Megan’s arms. The child fussed as she rooted her face close to Megan’s breast. Her hair was dark and her skin a light pink. She had Scott’s nose.
Rick laid his hand on her shoulder. “You did a great job, Megan.”
Megan looked up and smiled at Rick, and then her gaze flickered past him to Helen. She was pressing the sleeves of her gown to her eyes and releasing a breath. The tension she had carried for years relaxed.
“Thank you,” Helen whispered.
Helen ran to make phone calls, and when she returned to the room twenty minutes later, the baby had been whisked away to the prenatal ward, where the neonatologist was performing a complete examination. Rick had gone down the hallway to check on the baby for Megan as a nurse monitored her IV.
“Megan.” Helen looked pale and drawn as she crossed the room and kissed her on the cheek. “Where is the baby? Why is she gone?”
“She’s fine,” Megan said. “The doctors are checking her out.”
“Can I see her?” Helen asked. “I want to hold her and assure myself she is real.”
“She’s in the nursery,” Megan said. “You can see her through the glass, I think. Rick is there, and the doctor is examining her.”
“But she really is all right?” Helen asked. “She didn’t breathe at first. I’ve never felt so afraid.”
“She looks good. And she has a great set of lungs.”
“She’s so early.” Helen shook her head. “I knew you were doing too much.”
Tension rippled through Megan, and all the hopefulness she had felt when the baby was born faded. She had been overdoing it for weeks, which she realized now was selfish.
The nurse cleared her throat. “Ma’am, you should go and have a look at the baby.”
Helen looked up at the nurse, annoyed. “Yes. I will.”
Megan swallowed a lump in her throat as she watched the woman leave. “Her son was the baby’s father. He died last September.”
“Well, I’m your nurse, and you’re the only one I’m worried about right now. You doing okay?”
The rush of adrenaline, the pain, and the emotion had hit Megan so fast that she wasn’t quite sure. “I’m fine, I think.”
“Sometimes babies just come early, Megan.” A knock on the door had her looking up to see Lucy standing there. Her blonde hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and she was wearing a green shirt that read CHAPERONE.
“Lucy, nice shirt—can I get one?” Megan asked.
Lucy dropped her backpack in a chair, crossed the room, and hugged her. “Are you okay?”
Megan relaxed into th
e embrace, gripping Lucy’s shirt. “I’m good.”
Lucy drew back, smoothing Megan’s bangs into place. “I hear it all went pretty quick.”
“Who knew I’d be so good at delivering babies?”
“Your buddy Rick sure has some pull with the Virginia State Police. One of them met us at the Virginia Museum and whisked me away. The kids were so thrilled, and we ended up taking a quick selfie with the officer. I’m officially the coolest mom at the school.”
“Mom. Does it feel weird to be describing yourself that way?”
“You have no idea how insane it sounds. But life is change, and I’m okay with it. You will be too.”
“Do you feel fine about raising a child?” Megan asked.
Lucy smiled. “Hell no. But Arlene tells me that mild hysteria is normal, and once you’re a mother, you never feel like you’ve figured it out.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” Lucy fished out her phone and dialed Megan’s mother’s number. “Grandma, this is Lucy Kincaid. Nope, everything is fine, but your daughter just had a baby girl, and I think you two should have a chat.”
Megan accepted the phone as her mother’s squeals echoed from the receiver. She squeezed Lucy’s hand. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, kid.”
She raised the phone to her ear. “Hey, Mom.”
“Megan, how are you?” Her voice sounded rough with sleep, but Megan had never heard a voice that sounded so good to her.
A nurse stood by Megan as she nursed the baby for the third time. It had taken several tries before the nurse had helped Megan maneuver her nipple into the baby’s mouth yesterday and for the baby to figure out she needed to latch. The second and now third attempts at nursing were proving to be a struggle.
The baby finally clamped on her nipple and suckled just as Helen arrived carrying a car seat and a diaper bag filled with clothes. “I’ve been to three stores. You would think there’s one local store that would have all the things a baby needs.”
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