“Sylvie may still have some hearing, Anna.”
Jess looked from her grandpa to Anna Fischer. The woman’s bottom limp dropped limp.
“Now, I wouldn’t get all my hopes up. It’s still a large loss, but there’s something...”
“It can be amplified,” Jess finished.
Anna sent a frantic look between Grandpa and Jess, and even included Amy in the search for clarification. “Amplified? What does this mean?”
“There are devices called electric hearing aids we can attach to Sylvie’s ears that will make the sounds louder for her.” Grandpa tried to simplify the words.
“So perhaps she will be able to hear something again.”
Anna stared again, the information slowly seeping into comprehension with the return of her tremulous smile. “Truly?”
“We won’t know until we can try a hearing device on her,” Grandpa warned. “I’ve never used them on children, and they can be cumbersome, but she’s a clever one.”
“Da,” Anna said, clasping Sylvie’s face in her hands and placing a kiss to her little forehead. “She is clever.”
“How long would it take for the device to arrive when you order it?”
Amy’s first words during the entire situation brought Jess’ attention back to the young girl. Ever since she’d started working with her grandpa the day before, she’d held a wide-eyed look of pure fascination. But Jess instincts proved on target. Amy’s learned quickly by observation, asked insightful questions, and came with her own self-researched knowledge. Jess couldn’t help but see a little bit of her younger self shining in the curiosity behind Amy’s caramel gaze.
“I’m not quite sure with the war on and all.” Grandpa rubbed his chin. “A month or more, I suspect. And then we’ll have to see how they fit, and if Sylvie can manage them at her age.”
“She can.” Anna responded, immediately. “I will make certain she can.”
“I’m going to go to the post office directly and place the order.” Grandpa nodded to Amy. “Take the catalog with the latest options from Seimens and I’ll show you how it’s done.”
Amy’s ready smile beamed with the joy of feeling useful.
“If you’re fine, Grandpa, I’ll take Anna back home in the car and help Granny with the children as we prepare for the Ross family arrival.”
“She’ll appreciate it. I know she’s still trying to clean out the front room.”
“Do you need the cottage?” Anna drew Sylvie from the examination table into her arms. “We can stay in town until your family leaves if you need the space.”
“No, thank you, Anna.” Grandpa walked toward the door, Amy at his heels. “Mrs. Carter’s family managed a houseful in that farmhouse for a century or more. Besides, it’ll be nice to have a full house after all this time.”
Jess followed them out, locking up the clinic and leading Anna and Sylvie to the car. Her gaze immediately swept up the street to the camp and took an unwanted turn toward a certain German. What was she doing? Though Jasper softened after his warning last night, it was clear raising someone else’s children wasn’t even on his list of possibilities. Why on earth would she even consider contemplating a relationship with any man, especially some German who unnerved her more than anything else?
She grimaced. Well, he did ignite quite a few other things inside of her, but she didn’t like to think about them, let alone name them. If she’d hovered on the edge of spinsterhood before the war, as a single mom of two, she completely catapulted over the cliff. What man would want her? Wounded, outspoken, and a mother of two orphans? Best to bury that dream along with countless others and embrace the growing sweetness of her current life.
“You fight very hard against liking him, don’t you?”
Jess turned to Anna’s soft voice as they topped the street and turned toward the car. She took a few steps in silence, grinding her teeth to unravel a response. “I don’t see why my opinion matters all that much. I’m certain my somewhat abrasive personality will wear away his interest soon enough.”
Anna chuckled and placed Sylvie in the middle of the car seat, then took her place on the other side. “I do not think you understand my brother or how he views you. He appreciates your strength, your single-mindedness. His past is littered with people who were swayed by society or selfishness more than conscience. You are quite different.”
Jess pressed the starter and the engine rumbled to life. “Quite different, hmm?” She released her frustration in a mock laugh. “Well, that makes the most sense for an attraction than anything else.”
“You do not see, do you? You should reread those letters you sent to your grandparents. Hear the stories they tell of you, with such love and laughter.”
Jess kept her eyes forward, restraining a massive eye-roll. “People don’t fall in love through letters, Anna.”
“It depends on the letters.” Humor lit her words. “Some great romances occurred through letters, or at least were encouraged by them.”
Jess sighed against the tempting tug of Anna’s optimism. “Name one.”
“My grandparents. The day they met in person, my grandfather proposed to her, but they’d corresponded for a year. My mother kept them as a reminder that there are men in the world such as my grandfather.”
The memory of Anna’s confession about her former husband’s cruelty tempered Jessica’s response with curiosity. “And what was this grandfather like?”
“Gentle. Strong.” Her voice quieted with reminiscence. “He countered our father’s harshness with a quiet dignity. My mother carried the same quiet strength in her. That and her faith were the only things holding her heart together in the face of our father’s brutality. He only had enough love for one child. One rule. One dream. And if we did not fit into the dream, we were cast away. If you did not harden to him and take on his ways, he had little use for you. My husband was father’s protégé, both in business and in personal matters, but August...” She smiled. “He is much like our grandfather.”
Jessica paused on the sentiment before continuing. Quiet strength? With a slight begrudging hold on her dislike, she’d agree. He carried a strength, an internal calm. “And what about your other family? Don’t you want to return to Germany for them?”
“There is no other family. When August left after disinheritance by our father, I remained close to care for our mother. After her death, the bond holding me to my homeland broke. August and I have learned to rely on one another, as we’ve done our whole lives. Both outcasts. Misfits in an expectation of perfection.”
Jess digested this new information as they drew close to the farmhouse. Her childhood and the Reinhold’s stood in complete contrast to one another. Anchored within a loving family, blanketed with encouragement her whole life, she couldn’t fathom a home destitute of tenderness or laughter.
“How can you just accept your father’s behavior? Having to uproot your life? Your brother’s exile from home?”
“I have fought my battles against my heart and my past, Jessica. So has August. Life is filled with scars from others, and we can choose to pick the scars and keep them bleeding, or tend the scars with faith and forgiveness so they will heal.”
She stopped the car and turned to Anna, her eyes and throat on fire. “What happens then? What happens if I forgive?” She pointed out the window to the sky. “How can I just release all of this wrong when someone should pay for it, or at the very least He should explain himself for all that’s happened?” She pinched the steering mechanism in her grasp, fighting the onslaught of tears.
Anna lifted a brow and covered one of Jessica’s hands with her own. “Don’t you know? Someone has paid for it. All the wrongs done to us, by us, for us. All the wounds we cause or excuse. The injustices we scream. Christ has already paid for it.” She reached for the car door and nodded to the back yard where Jude worked to hit the birdie back across the net to August.
August raised his straw hat in welcome, his grin almost infectious. “My opponent has finally arrived?”
Jess pulse twittered into another rhythm and she looked away, right into Anna’s clear blue gaze. “Open your eyes, Jessica. Open and see.”
***
“Why do you keep torturing yourself through these matches with her, August?” Mrs. Carter whispered as Jess and Anna approached from the car. “Are you a glutton for punishment? She’ll play you until she wins.”
August matched her volume, keeping his eyes on the beautiful prize walking his way. “That’s why I must keep winning.”
Mrs. Carter chuckled and placed a palm on his shoulder, drawing his attention to her warm, gray eyes. “You clever boy. My granddaughter is stubborn, but she’s no fool. When she comes around, and she will, she’ll reward your patience. She’s fiercely loyal.” She shook her head. “You just have to get past her wicked stubbornness to reach the heart of gold.”
He pressed a palm to his chest, an ache forming at the thought. “Time is not on my side, Mrs. Carter. Perhaps I should relinquish my pursuit before I wound her.”
“Wound her? Jess needs to learn the risk is worth the reward. Besides, time may not be on your side, but it’s well in hand for Him.” She gestured skyward. “I’d let him worry about those details, and keep your eyes on the goal.”
Which wasn’t a hardship by any means. She wore a cream blouse with short sleeves paired with a long, green skirt reaching down to the tops of her boots. The cinched waist of her skirt drew attention to her curves and the length of her legs. The sun added an extra scorch to his face, but he took his time appreciating the view. What would it be like to have all of her energy and determination turned to loving him? He’d certainly like to find out.
“Allow me to change my shoes, Mr. Reinhold.” Jessica’s smile challenged him. “I’m feeling rather lucky today, so prepare yourself.”
His grin stretched wide and he gave a sweeping bow in response. “Hope is an excellent virtue, Miss Ross.”
Evergreen glittered with mischief. She raised her golden brow. “There’s always hope.”
He held her gaze. “And that is exactly what I’m counting on.”
The teasing fell from her expression, replaced by a wave of uncertainty. He stepped forward, searching for a reason in this sudden shift, but she backed toward the house, recovering her grin. “Just so you know, I’m excellent in math too, so counting might not be your best defense either.”
His gaze followed her until she disappeared through the back door, her skirt swaying the entire way.
“You leave very little for her to guess, don’t you?” Anna shook her head.
“She’s had enough guesses the past two years.” He shrugged, glancing back at the porch, more certain than ever to keep his direct approach. “I will offer truth or I will offer nothing at all.”
Despite her firmed frown, the lines around Anna’s eyes gentled. “And what about that heart of yours?”
He patted his chest, attempting to cloak his sister’s worry with some levity. “As I told Mrs. Carter, I’m playing to win.”
***
The game kept a frenetic pace from the first serve. Jessica played like a woman with a ghost on her heels, pursuing each step, and August struggled to keep one pace ahead of her. She moved with a bit more fluidity, and ran for the most unexpected shots. It wasn’t until about halfway through the match that she unleashed her natural charm from behind the cautious and killer quiet from which she’d attacked him.
All of her hair slipped from its pins, cascading around her in a rain of gold and completely distracting him from his winning shot. The birdie spun out of bounds and Jessica laughed.
“You shall not have that game point, Mr. Reinhold. I mean to beat you this time.”
He couldn’t pull his gaze from her face—the color in her cheeks, the smile lighting her emerald eyes. Her lips parted as she breathed in the afternoon scent of honeysuckles. Would those lips taste as sweet as honey?
“It looks as though you have something devious on your mind.” She moved to the net and placed a hand to her hip. “Are you worried about the game? Have I tired you out? Come now, share your thoughts.”
“I wondered if your lips would taste as sweet as honey.”
Her eyes shot wide and all color fled her face. She didn’t speak for a few seconds. His grin itched to respond.
“You shouldn’t say things like that to me.”
He met her at the net. “Why not? I think things like that about you.”
She stumbled through another reply, clearly off-set by his directness. If he had to practice patience, perhaps he could enjoy the process.
“But... but we are not...” She waved a hand between them. “Together.”
He glanced around the yard. His sister had retired with Sylvie to the cottage long ago, and Mrs. Carter had taken Jude inside to help tend to Faith. Nothing but the birds and the sunbeams offered any audience. “It looks as though we are. Together. Right now.” His voice dropped as he tilted his head closer, wiggling his brow in playful invitation. “Alone.”
Her narrowed eyes held a fiery sting. “You need a good beating, Mr. Reinhold, and I mean to win this game.”
“And you need a good kiss, and then we’d both win, yes?”
Nothing but a helpless squeak came from her open mouth.
“I see I’ll need to wait until you are ready, Miss Ross. Kisses are powerful things.”
She firmed her lips into a decided frown and marched back to her place, racquet to the ready as if a weapon. “You’ll be waiting a long time, then.”
August whistled on his way to his place at the line, then turned to prepare for his serve. Jessica looked everywhere else except at his face, and the racquet in her hands bounced like Jude’s new rubber ball.
He tamed his smile and served a beautiful ace, barely crossing the net without a touch. She struggled to reach it and got her racquet on it, but the birdie spun up into the air and out of bounds.
“Match point, my advantage.” August winked and she quickly looked away, a deeper shade of rose darkening her cheeks.
Jessica took a ready position, her lips as pinched as her brow. “That smirk does not become you, Mr. Reinhold.”
He unleashed a laugh and her frown tipped in the opposite direction. A little. Not enough to encourage him to march across the court and satisfy the curiosity about the taste of her lips, but enough to hint at a certain softening behind her apparent disdain? His lips hitched wider. Perhaps he was winning in more ways than one.
The next rally proved the longest, a battle of stamina and speed, until he tipped the birdie over the net with the slightest touch and she couldn’t get to it in time. He stood, breathing hard, and offered his hand of sportsmanship.
Her stare bore into his as she walked toward the net and wrapped her cool fingers around his in a vice. “You cheated.”
“Cheated? I assure you, I did not cheat.”
“Yes, you did.” She rounded the net, a pointed finger punctuating each word. “With what you said.”
What he said? The previous conversation and her current rosy cheeks punctuated his clarity. He feigned innocence with a full shrug. “About winning?”
“No.” Her lips thinned against the words, hesitating before lowering her voice to a whisper. “About the kissing. I couldn’t concentrate.”
“Very flattering, my dear Miss Jesse.” He leaned in to match her volume. “But if it didn’t matter to you, it shouldn’t distract you.”
She stared back, wide-eyed, so he continued. “Besides, as long as you’re near, my thoughts will eventually turn to the topic without much difficulty.”
Her gaze dropped to his lips, sending a tingle shooting across them before they spun into a smile.
She blinked from the daze and stood straight, distancing herself with a step. “I’d say you need more work to do because clearly, your mind has too much free time.”
“No, no. My thoughts are properly ordered. Quite in order.”
“You, Mr. Reinhold, are insufferable.” She marched across the lawn toward the house.
He ran to catch up. “What does this mean? Insufferable?”
She stopped at the bottom of the porch steps, her head down. “It means you’re impossible. Nearly unbearable.” She enunciated each word as she turned to face him. “You should take this interest you have and lay it at the feet of some woman more interested in your persistent adoration.”
“I have a feeling you’ve succeeded in frightening away many suitors.” A sudden awareness drew him closer, in search of the truth. “You are afraid.”
“Of you?” She scoffed.
“Nein, of releasing your heart, I think.”
“Very clever, Mr. Reinhold, but the heart isn’t trustworthy.” She looked away under his scrutiny. “Better to use one’s head and experience.”
He covered her hand on the railing with his, snatching back her attention. “Ah, you know what you want? What is best for you?” He searched her face. “But He knows.” He tipped his head to the sky. “He knows what you truly need in your head and your heart, and you might be surprised by His choices.”
She tugged her hand free to cross it in front of her chest. Her expression laced with suspicion, a little humor... and maybe the tiniest bit of curiosity. “And I suppose you are what’s best for my head and my heart?”
“Alas, I am not strong enough to get through to your head.” He placed his racquet by the porch steps and shoved his hands in his pockets, the tug to take her in his arms almost overpowering. “But I think I might be getting through to your heart.”
She pinched her palms tighter in a hug and the sardonic smile slid from her lips, though she tried to keep the strength in her stance, the barrier. “Oh really?”
“Yes.” He shrugged, holding her gaze, memorizing her silhouette against the farmhouse with the backdrop of blue sky. “But just like a good kiss, I will wait. I’m very good at waiting.”
***
“I did not write the letter, sir. I give you my word.” August stood to attention in front of Ruser, readied to find whatever proof necessary to clear his name. After such a rewarding afternoon, his face still warm from his invigorating conversation with Jessica Ross, August thought he’d turned a corner of disappointment. Her eyes held such hurt, such mistrust, but the wall was beginning to crumble. Little by little. Could this dream for which he’d prayed truly solidify into flesh and blood? Was it possible God would not only give him a future in Hot Springs but also Jessica Ross’ heart?
But he’d barely made it through the threshold of the Lower Camp before Cliff took him directly to Ruser’s office.
Ruser scanned over the paper in his hand and then removed his wire-rimmed spectacles, examining August with the same scrutiny. August stared back, unwavering, the letter in Ruser’s hands a pure act of ruthless fiction.
The letter contained information about the Allies movements in France, hidden within a flimsy code any grade school child might decipher, and signed with August’s name.
“And you have no knowledge of this Lieutenant Schleigle to whom the letter is addressed?”
“No, sir.”
“Your father is mentioned.” Ruser pointed an accusing finger at the page.
“Only by the last name, which could be written by any person who knew my surname,” August argued. “Is this the only such letter discovered?”
Ruser placed the paper down on the desk and braided his hands together to rest on the desk. “No, this is the third, but the first within the past two weeks.”
“And the other two?”
Ruser sighed and leaned back in his chair, his frown deepening. “Written anonymously by someone who means to stir up discord for us.”
August sighed down into the chair Ruser had offered him in the beginning of their meeting. “Then you know I am no traitor.”
Ruser’s moustache twitched. “August, there are some men in my camp for whom the title could most certainly fit, but not you.” His frown returned. “However, it seems someone is attempting to bring trouble to our camp, and I mean to find out who it is.”
August leaned forward. “So you do not blame me for this?”
Ruser matched August’s position, his eyes narrowed in scrutiny for a moment until his brow cleared with a smile. “I have been in war and life for many years. I’ve learned to recognize the difference between an honest man and a traitor, no matter how virtuous the intentions. You are no traitor, but I would keep a watch on others around you, whether inside or outside the camp. Somewhere, we do have a traitor, and I hope his intentions are limited to ill-planned letters.” Ruser picked up the paper and waved it in the air before depositing it back on his desk. “And nothing more.”