Miriam stood on Arthur’s front porch. Breaking his heart shouldn’t be this hard. He was familiar and comfortable. Everything she didn’t want. But the look on her father’s face, the dejection and disappointment, haunted her. By rejecting Arthur, she was letting Daddy down.
Should she do this? She’d been so sure a few minutes ago. Determined to get her way. Should she sacrifice her happiness for her father’s? Then again, a farm, a piece of property, was worth far less than a marriage. She wouldn’t want to bring children into a loveless union.
No, it was better this way. In time, Daddy would forgive her. He loved her. He wanted her to be happy.
She opened the storm door and rapped on the inside one. Sure and firm. A minute later, Arthur stood in front of her. “Miriam, what a surprise to see you. Come in.”
She stepped into the warm entryway.
“Take off your coat and stay. I can have a pot of coffee ready in a few minutes.” Arthur’s heavy brown work jacket hung on a hook on the wall, his three pairs of barn boots lined up in a perfect row on the floor beneath it.
She couldn’t live in such order, such brownness. “I can’t stay, but thank you.”
“What brings you by?”
Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth as she parted her lips to speak. “This isn’t easy for me to say.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to sit down?” He mussed his already wild red hair.
“No. I’m fine. Let me get the words out.”
He nodded.
“Ever since we were little, you’ve been a good friend to me. A better friend than I deserve. I haven’t always treated you the way I should have. I want you to be happy, with a woman who will love you fully, who will be happy at your side on the farm, who will give you a passel of children. Unfortunately, that woman isn’t me. I love you, Arthur, but more like the brother I never had. I hope you understand.”
His Adam’s apple worked up and down. “For a while, ever since Paul showed up, I had a feeling this was coming.” He leaned against the wall.
Her heart seized. “Believe me, this wasn’t easy. You’re a wonderful man. Sweet, caring, generous. You’ll make some woman a terrific husband.”
He touched her upper arm. “Thank you for your honesty. I have loved you ever since the third grade when you demanded that Willy Zimmerman give me back my lunch.”
She chuckled at the memory. “You were skinny enough. I didn’t want you to miss a meal. What he did wasn’t right.”
“You’ve always had this clear sense of justice.”
“You aren’t angry?”
“A little hurt. Very disappointed. I’ll never love another woman the way I love you.”
“Don’t say that. Don’t hold back your heart. That’s not fair to you.”
“Your father will be upset.”
“He’s not happy about my decision.”
“Be careful.” Arthur caressed her cheek. “You don’t know what Paul is like. He runs with a crowd of troublemakers. There are rumblings those men were part of the secret police. A brutal lot who are doing who knows what to prisoners of war like my brother. Steer clear of him. Don’t get involved.”
“Thanks for the advice, but you don’t know him the way I do.”
“That was five years ago. People change. War has a way of doing that to a man.”
“He’s not like those others. And he wasn’t part of the SS. He’s happy he’s here and doesn’t have to fight anymore.”
“You’ve been warned.” Arthur crossed to the door and opened it.
Guess that was the end of their conversation.
“Take care of yourself.”
She stood on her tiptoes and pecked him on his rosy cheek. “Thank you for caring for me. Be happy.” With that, she stepped into the chilly day. She’d tucked her Saturday shopping list into her pocket. Best to get that chore out of the way and get home to do a little cleaning and baking.
By the time she reached the grocer’s, she had warmed through. Though Arthur had been hurt, letting him down the way she had was for the best for both of them. He would come to see that in time. Her shoulders relaxed for the first time in weeks. Maybe even months or years.
The bell above the doorway jangled as she entered Heippe Cash Store. Most of the shoppers ignored the tinkling and carried on with their selections. Two or three glanced up. Mrs. Lundquist stared at her then turned to Mrs. McKinnon and whispered behind her hand.
Since they stood near the canned goods and Miriam needed tomato soup, she sauntered close to them.
Mrs. Lundquist fiddled with the multicolored scarf around her neck. “I’m surprised to see you here, Miriam.”
“Oh. Why?”
“After what happened last night…” Mrs. McKinnon shook her head.
“What happened last night?” Maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say, but Miriam’s mind couldn’t put together another coherent sentence.
“Really, dear.” Mrs. Lundquist leaned closer, her voice a very loud whisper. “Running around with those sorts. Your mother may have been German, but your father doesn’t approve. It’s disrespectful to those of us who have lost loved ones in this terrible conflict.” She dabbed the corner of her eye with a monogrammed handkerchief.
“I am sorry about your grandson.”
“Two wars.” Mrs. McKinnon grasped Miriam by the hands and held fast. “Those Germans have dragged us into two very costly, devastating wars. And to think you would taint yourself by associating with them.”
Miriam glanced around the small market. Everyone stared at her. Her shoulders slumped even as her chest burned. “If you’ll excuse me.”
She fled the store without a single purchase.
Less than twenty-four hours after he had last found himself in Captain Atkins’s office, Paul once again stood in front of the man’s desk.
The captain motioned for Paul to sit. He lowered himself into the hard chair, his stomach twisting as it had the day he’d been called to the headmaster’s office for an improper salute to the Führer. The captain fiddled with a pen, his fingers stained with ink. “I’ve been up most of the night pondering what to do to punish y’all and to keep the camp open.”
“I’m sorry to have caused you such distress, sir.”
“Not only you. They can’t remain here. Come Monday, the other men involved will be shipped to a more secure facility.”
“And me?” Paul’s voice squeaked. He cleared his throat.
“You’re another matter. You aren’t former SS. That works in your favor. And you weren’t part of the melee at the tavern. You did come to me with the information. Eventually. But not informing me right away will work against you. And leaving the property is also a black mark on your record.”
Paul clenched the edge of the seat. “I’m not going elsewhere?”
“No. Don’t think I didn’t consider it, because it was an option. One that would have appeased those in town who aren’t in favor of the camp. In the end, you did what you did because you thought it to be the right thing at the time. Mind you, it wasn’t, but you didn’t act out of malice. You’ve proven yourself in other situations to be trustworthy.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“There’ll be consequences.” The captain put down his pen and leaned forward. “You’ll have extra KP duty for the next month. You’ll oversee cleaning the latrine every evening as well. And you are to have no contact with anyone outside of the camp other than your employer. If I find you in violation, I will transfer you to a different facility immediately. Understand?”
Paul rubbed his hands on his pants. “I do, sir. Thank you. You will find me to be a perfect prisoner.”
“I hope so, Albrecht. Now get to work. The kitchen staff needs help with lunch.”
Paul left the room and entered the adjacent dining hall. The dark-paneled walls absorbed the light streaming through the windows. A cheery fire burned in the brick fireplace that dominated the outside wall, driving away the winter’s chill.
He meandered past it into the kitchen, the hum of voices and clank of dishes reaching him.
The punishments weren’t too bad. Kitchen duty didn’t bother him. The latrine cleaning wouldn’t be fun, but it had to be done.
But not to have contact with anyone on the outside? He doubled over, the breath knocked out of him. What about his relationship with Miriam?