“Anton, are we safe?” Bubbe whispered.

The German soldiers had returned to the troop truck and the half-tracks. The roar of the engines was deafening as they rolled out of the yard.

“Not yet, Bubbe,” Anton said. The gestapo was famous for faking a departure and then abruptly doubling back or leaving a few hidden soldiers behind to surprise and capture anyone whom they had not been able to find in their search.

Anton knew that Bubbe was uncomfortable, but only his quick thinking had managed to save them so far. He would not let his efforts be undone by impatience.

“Just a little longer, Bubbe,” he said. “I promise.”

She nodded her head in agreement. Anton studied her tired, wrinkled face. Just enough light crept into their hiding place that he could see the fierce determination in her eyes. He remembered her standing in front of the gestapo major in the cave. How she had refused to allow him to gain the upper hand, or to intimidate her. It was impossible to know how many lives her stubborn willpower had saved.

And now the survival of his family depended on keeping her alive. Dmitri and Pavel were fine men. Good uncles who had done their best to teach him, raise him, and keep him from thinking too much about his father’s fate. But even they were not made of steel like Bubbe. She was the rock of the family. And if she did not live through this crisis, then neither would they. Though of course, Anton could not be sure that Pavel was alive now. But he did know that Bubbe was the glue holding them together. And the responsibility of reuniting her with the family was his now. He could not fail.

“I think it is safe now,” Anton said after a few very long minutes. He removed the trellis from the side of the small set of steps leading to the front door of the farmhouse. They had hidden there, huddled in the shadows while the soldiers had ransacked the house and the barn. He’d taken a gamble that the search party would be so preoccupied with the obvious hiding places, they would not think to look beneath the stairs. He and Bubbe had barely had enough time to make it from the barn, pull the trellis free, and replace it behind them before the vehicles arrived. Anton was glad the gestapo did not have dogs with them, or he and Bubbe would surely have been discovered.

Anton helped his grandmother lumber from the small, dark space and winced at the guttural groan that slipped from her lips as she straightened up.

He was torn about what they should do next. On one hand, the gestapo had already searched the farm and found nothing. It was unlikely they would return. Earlier, he had seen smoke rising on the horizon and assumed they were burning the buildings they had searched so they wouldn’t have to examine them again. But they had not burned this one. Perhaps the major was so angry he had forgotten to give the order. If that was the case, he and Bubbe might remain on the farm in relative comfort while they figured out what to do next.

But on the other hand, the longer they remained in one spot, the more likely it was that someone would discover them.

Still, Bubbe needed rest, and Anton thought he might look for supplies they could use.

“Come, Bubbe,” he said, taking her hand and leading her up the stairs.

“What are we doing?”

“We are going to wait here until nightfall. We will rest. Perhaps sleep on a real bed.”

“Are you sure, Anton? What if the gestapo return?”

He led her to a bedroom off the kitchen. The bed looked like a cloud from heaven. Anton helped his grandmother sit down and smiled when he saw the worry on her face disappear, even if only for the moment.

“Do not worry, Bubbe,” Anton said. “I will keep watch. If the gestapo return, we will hide as we did before. They will not find us. When it is dark and you are rested, we will head north to the rendezvous point and find the others. The Germans will not find us. God has made us invisible, Bubbe! He has made us undetectable in the night. The darkness will protect us. You need not worry. Rest, Bubbe. We have a long journey ahead of us this evening.”

As his grandmother looked up at him, he saw tears in her eyes.

“Bubbe!” he said. “Is something wrong? Are you ill?”

“No. I am not sick. It’s just that you remind me so much of your father,” she said as she brought her hand to his face. “You are a good boy, Anton. Brave and strong, like your papa. Soon, you will be a man. I am very proud of you.”

Anton felt that his chest might burst with pride. He smiled at her. “Come,” he said, helping her into bed. “You rest. I will keep watch.”

“Thank you, my child.” She closed her eyes while he pulled a quilt over her.

He left the bedroom and walked the first floor of the house, glancing out each window. For a moment he considered venturing outside to find some wood to build a fire in the stove. He still had the potatoes. With a little boiling water he could fix a feast. But the smoke would be visible for kilometers. No, when Bubbe woke up they would eat the potatoes raw. It was better than nothing. He would not lose his grandmother for something so careless.

He checked the windows again. There was no sign of life on the road in either direction. Then he began opening the cupboards and closets. They may not have had a feast, but that did not mean they could not find a treasure left behind. As he searched he remembered the touch of Bubbe’s hand on his face.

He would not let her down.

Not ever.