Cornelia rapped a timid knock on the old wooden farmhouse door. There were people inside who needed time to hide. No matter how much she wanted these Germans to go away, she had to give the Juden and onderduikers a chance to get out of sight. No one answered the door.
Grut, his massive hairy hands clutching his rifle, got her attention with the butt of his gun. “Knock louder.”
She did.
A young woman, an infant on her hip, pulled in the door.
Cornelia didn’t give her a chance to say anything that might put either one of them in jeopardy. She crossed the threshold and wrapped the woman and child in a warm I’ve-known-you-forever-and-it’s-so-good-to-see-you-again hug. “After all this time, it is wonderful to be here, my dear friend. Bedankt for the invitation to dinner.”
Cornelia stepped back and motioned toward the soldiers with her eyes, giving a small nod to convey the message that the woman needed to play along. “I am a terrible cook, you know. It will be such a pleasure to eat something that is not burned.”
“I’m just sorry we couldn’t make it work earlier.”
Cornelia exhaled. “And look at Derk, how big he’s grown since the last time I saw him.” She took the baby in her arms and buried her nose in the blond fuzz at the top of his head. He didn’t cry for his mother, and Cornelia thanked the Lord for that.
The woman turned her attention to Lyts and Grut. “Who are these gentlemen with you?”
“They stopped by the side of the road and offered to escort me here. Wasn’t that kind of them?” Cornelia jiggled the infant, ridding herself of some nervous energy. Now if they would only go away.
Grut peered down at Lyts and Lyts craned his neck to see his comrade. They nodded to each other, then to the women. “We’ll be going.” Lyts glared at Cornelia. “Be careful in the country all by yourself.” As she shivered at his icy words, they turned and walked the path to their waiting truck.
The woman, her leathery face and hands telling the story of years of hard farmwork, shut the door. The Bible passage came to Cornelia’s mind where God told the apostles they wouldn’t need to be afraid when they appeared before men to give their testimony because He would give them the words to say.
Ja, God had given her the words to say.
The infant fussed and Cornelia handed him back to his mother. “Heel hartelijk bedankt for going along with my ruse. Those soldiers stopped me on the road and insisted they escort me here. Nothing I said would dissuade them.” Her stomach flip-flopped as the realization hit her of how close she had come to being arrested. Only by God’s grace had the Germans turned that truck and brought her to the farm.
“I’m Karin.”
“Anna.”
Karin took her by the hand. “Come in and sit at the table. You look warm. I will get you a cold drink.”
Cornelia declined the offer and stayed on the rug, though she did slip off her klompen. “A drink would be wonderful, but I can’t stay. I have a delivery for you, so if you will show me to the restroom, I will be on my way.”
Karin nodded and smiled, the grin softening her worn features. Cornelia scooped up her klompen as Karin led her through the house so similar to Frou de Bruin’s, then through the deel to the very back stall that served as an outhouse.
Once inside with the door shut, she pulled a packet of ration cards from under her skirt, leaving a second one hidden in her clothing for the next house.
Another house. Another delivery. Another chance for something to go wrong.
As she put herself back together and prepared to leave, her leg jiggled.
GERRIT PACED THE floor in Frou de Bruin’s kitchen, the one Cornelia had scrubbed yesterday. He was a caged dog, longing to be out there working, doing anything but sitting here. Twice he went to the door and almost turned the knob to release himself.
Only because of Cornelia did he stay inside. When his heart belonged to him alone, he hadn’t given a second thought to taking crazy chances. Now he had given his heart to Cornelia and that fact kept him indoors.
He had made his umpteenth circuit of the front room and kitchen when someone knocked. Cornelia must be back. He wilted with relief and sprinted to peek out the window.
His stomach took a dive from under his ribs to his feet when he saw a young woman waiting. This woman matched Cornelia in height, but not in coloring. She was fair and blond, with cold blue eyes. She wrung her neatly manicured hands and licked her lips. He went to admit her.
“Good afternoon.” Her words were precise and her enunciation impeccable.
“How can I help you?”
“I have come from Polder’s Edge Farm, about five kilometers to the east of here. We have six Juden hiding with us. Four days ago we ran out of ration cards. The man who supplied us didn’t show up when we had expected him. Our food stores are almost exhausted.” She spoke flawless, almost cultured Dutch.
“What does this have to do with me? We have no food to spare, no cards we could give you.”
Without an invitation, she stepped across the threshold and shut the door. Gerrit’s skin itched. She leaned toward him, her hot breath making the back of his hands prickle. “I heard there was a Resistance member hiding here. Word is all over the place. I know you are him. You have that look.”
Where did she get that information? “I am not him.”
She grasped his arm, her rounded nails digging into his flesh.
“But you are, and you have to help me. We are desperate.”
“I can’t help you.”
“You must. A Christian man like you wouldn’t let women and children starve to death. Not with peace coming in a few days.”
A picture of his mother and his sister Dorathee flashed in front of his eyes. If they were in such a situation, he would want someone to help them.
“You have to go to Bear and get more for us.”
How did she know the leader of the local cell? Perhaps Bear, long ago, had delivered the cards himself. “Who was your regular delivery person?”
She studied her dusty shoes. Under the dirt, he could tell they weren’t worn in the least. “We have had several. I suppose they keep getting arrested, or maybe they rotate. None of them told us their names.”
“How do you know Bear?”
The woman stood up straight and glared at him. “Will you help us or not?”
How could he turn down a woman in need? “Tell me where the farm is. I will get the cards for you, and this afternoon or tomorrow morning will deliver them.”
Her eyes widened and she shook her head with vigor. “Today.
It must be today.”
“Fine. Today I will bring them.”
“No need. I will be by later to get them.” With that, she clicked her heels and disappeared.
A cold shot raced down his spine.
A LONG LINE of German trucks had rumbled past Karin’s farmhouse as Cornelia prepared to leave, so Karin had persuaded her to stay and have a little to eat while she waited for the trucks to pass. If the Germans stopped her again, they might discover her contraband.
Cornelia sat at the big farmer’s table, large enough to hold the family and any hired hands. She leaned against the high back of the chair, a cup of cool water in her hand, while Karin sat across from her and bounced baby Arie on her knee.
“It’s been awhile since we heard any trucks, hasn’t it?”
Karin nodded. “It sounds like they are gone for now. They remind me of the locust plague in Egypt. When the Lord turned the wind to the west, the locusts were caught up and drowned in the Red Sea.”
The analogy made Cornelia smile. “The Lord is removing the plague of the Germans from us.”
“Maybe I won’t need these cards much longer, but bedankt for bringing them. We appreciate all of you risking your lives to save those of others. I can’t believe someone would be willing to give his life that others would live.”
The way Karin articulated the thought made Cornelia stop and consider what she said. “That’s what Jesus did for us, you know.” If Christ could do that for the worst of sinners, shouldn’t they be willing to do that for their fellow man? Did Hans leave her on their wedding night because he had an idea how many would die if the German blitzkrieg succeeded?
“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”
The words from the gospel of John took her breath away. What else had John said? She couldn’t remember the exact verse, but the words spoke about it being better for one man to die than to have the entire nation perish.
Hans, is that what you did for me? For our country?
She put the thought aside for later, set her cup on the table, and pushed her chair away. “I should be going. I have another delivery to make yet today.”
Karin’s forehead wrinkled. “What if more trucks come?”
The thought of them stopping her again cut off her breath, but Gerrit’s saying that courage had more to do with actions than with feelings drove her forward.
When I am afraid, I will trust in You.
She gathered in a deep breath and took her coat from the peg. “The Lord is with me and I will be fine. Vriendelijk bedankt for everything.”
Karin swept her into a hug. “May the Lord watch over you.”
Yes, Lord, be with me. Danger hadn’t passed by, and it wouldn’t until not a Nazi boot remained on Dutch soil.
She walked back to the road. Clouds, though they didn’t threaten rain, scuttled across the sky. Her thoughts turned to Hans. Out of habit, she went to twist the gold band on her finger only to find it empty. She loved him more than ever. He had had the courage to sacrifice everything for her, to give her a chance at life.
Bedankt, Hans, bedankt.
She had taken the first step toward that new life by saying a final farewell to her husband. That dance had come to an end, and now she needed the courage to start a new one with Gerrit.
She paused her hurried pace and stopped a minute to listen. Off in the distance, she heard a low, deep sound she couldn’t identify and prayed it wouldn’t be more Nazi trucks. Wishing she had her bicycle to speed her trip, she continued on her way.
Gerrit wanted her whole heart and he deserved someone who could give him that. If she gave her entire self to him, she would be giving herself the greatest gift—life without fear.
Up ahead, along the straight road, another column of German trucks bore down on her in a hurry to make it across the border. She hopped to the side of the road.
The distant noise she had heard before grew to a low drone.
Like a swarm of summer mosquitoes, Allied planes burst through the clouds and filled the metallic gray sky. The crackle of machine guns resounded across the countryside as the trucks accelerated and soon were almost upon her.
And so were the planes. They strafed the road. One of the dozen or so trucks in the convoy exploded into a ball of flames.
Cornelia jumped. The stench of burning fuel and flesh churned her stomach.
She stood dazed on the side of the road, her legs locked, unable to move. She had nowhere to hide.
Hans had left her in the opening days of the war.
And in the closing days, she would join him.