Page 49 of Love in the Shadows

“How will you get her to safety? There are patrols everywhere.”

Fabienne finished her brandy and poured them both another. “She made it here. God knows how. She deserves another chance. Only this time she won’t have to run all the way.” She handed Johanna the glass, kept hold of it until Johanna looked at her. “There are some things it’s best you don’t know at this stage,” she said softly.

Johanna took the glass and turned away. “You sound like my husband.”

Fabienne took Johanna by the arm and turned her gently. “I am not anything like your husband.” She touched Johanna’s cheek, her heart racing with longing, and an ache nestled deep inside her. She had to protect Johanna in the same way she would Mamie and Nancy. “The less you know, the less you can tell the German soldiers when they torture you for being a traitor.”

Johanna gasped, stared at her wide-eyed.

“I don’t want that to happen to you.” Fabienne returned to the pot of coffee, poured a cup, and added a little milk. She took the warm stone from the stove and wrapped it in a cloth and took both things through to the living room. “How is she doing?”

Mamie had a grave look in her eyes. “She will be lucky if she makes it.”

Fabienne handed her the stone, and Mamie tucked it under the covers against the woman’s distended belly. “Is the baby still—”

“Yes. She looks about seven months gone, maybe more. It’s hard to tell, she’s so thin.”

Fabienne touched the woman’s stomach and prayed. The last thing they needed was for her to give birth here, though moving her wasn’t going to be a simple task either. “I brought coffee in case we can get some down her.” She set the cup on the low table and returned to the kitchen.

Johanna, leaning against the stove, seemed to study her. She took a deep breath and spoke quickly as if revealing a secret that would get her into trouble. “Gerhard says they know about the Resistance activities.”

Fabienne nodded. “Starving people tend to talk more readily.” She looked towards the living room. It was critical that no one found out about the prisoner, but she didn’t need to remind Johanna of that.

Johanna sipped her drink. “I want to do more to help, Fabienne. Just tell me what.”

Fabienne held her gaze as she went to the sink. She had to prepare soup for when the woman was ready to eat something. “You’ve helped this woman tonight. You need to not get yourself killed.” Johanna moved quickly across the small space and positioned herself between Fabienne and the sink. Her breath was warm, her mouth so close to Fabienne’s.

“Don’t push me away,” Johanna whispered. She leaned her forehead against Fabienne’s. “Please.”

Her last word was barely audible, yet Fabienne heard it as if she’d shouted it from the church steeple. She didn’t back off, though she knew she should. She lifted her head until their lips touched. A fleeting contact that left no doubt in her mind or body. Coming to her senses quickly, she backed away, sought the ingredients, and set them on the kitchen side. Two small carrots and an onion. “It’s all we have,” she said.

“I’ll go and get some more,” Johanna said.

The cold air coming in from outside as Johanna left was more noticeable against the new warmth in the kitchen, but this wasn’t what caused Fabienne to tremble as she put a pan of water on to heat and cut up the vegetables.

The water was simmering when Johanna returned with a small joint of beef and a handful of potatoes. “It’s all I could find,” she said. She stood close to the stove.

“It’s more than she’s had in a long while.” Fabienne was sure the woman hadn’t eaten for days, maybe more than a week.

She couldn’t look at Johanna, though she wanted to acknowledge what had passed between them was more than the whisper of a kiss. She added the hock to the pan, cut up the potatoes and dropped them in. “You need to go home, Johanna.”

“I want to—”

“You’ve done more than enough.” Fabienne shook her head. “Please, now, go home and go to bed. Astrid needs her mother. I’ll come to work at the house tomorrow.”

Johanna’s disappointment was evident in the quiver in her lip and the sheen that lightened her eyes. “My husband is sending a new guard to watch over us while Müller is sick.”

Fabienne sighed. “Müller is ill?” Mamie had given her the good news, but she couldn’t reveal that, no matter what she felt for Johanna. “Let’s hope the new one isn’t worse.”

Johanna rubbed her eyes. “Is that possible?”

Fabienne held her gaze, felt her sadness, and half-smiled.

A tear slipped onto Johanna’s cheek, and she wiped it away.

They both knew worse was possible.

Johanna left and Fabienne went through to the living room, the warmth of their connection numbed by the chilling reality.