Free All God's Children by Anna Schmidt Page A

should take the chair that Beth had vacated. The two men had talked long into the night, and by the time Josef returned to his room, dawn was breaking.
    Later he lay on the single bed and stared at the rafters of the attic’s ceiling. He was attracted to Beth Bridgewater in a way that might have been possible for them under other circumstances. But a German officer and an American who was stranded in Munich? That was inviting problems for each of them.
    After that it was Josef who had avoided her. He would stay late in the research laboratory or beg off joining the others when he arrived home. The truth was that he was so smitten with the woman that he could not bear to be in the same room with her without blurting out his true feelings. But in the days and weeks that had passed since that evening, he had not forgotten his promise to the professor, and to that end he had finally gone to the extraordinary lengths of asking his father for help.
    Of course he had not told his father the real story but instead had simply spoken of the papers being misplaced. But his father had seen through his efforts at nonchalance. “This young woman must be someone quite special if she has driven you to come to me,” he had said. “I would like to meet her.”
    “Perhaps one day that could be arranged.”
    “It will be arranged,” his father replied, “or there will be no replacement of the woman’s documents.”
    The conversation was so very typical of the conversations Josef had shared with his father from the time he was a young boy. His father always established the ground rules.
    And so tonight he had a surprise for her, a gift—the precious papers would be delivered to the apartment within the hour. He was excited to be able to bring her such good news, but he did so with some regret. He admired her courage a great deal, but the truth was that his feelings for her had moved well beyond simple respect. Any woman who could inspire him to ask his father for a favor was a woman to be reckoned with.

    An inch or more of snow had covered the streets and sidewalks by the time Beth led Anja and the children to the rear entrance of the apartment building. She checked carefully to be sure no other tenants were around, then set the boy down as she used her key to open the door. But instead of following Beth into the dark hallway, Anja shifted the smaller child in her arms to remove the shawl.
    “Thank you,” she said in perfect English as she handed Beth the garment.
    Beth smiled. As good as her German was, there was something in her accent that immediately identified her as a foreigner. “There’s no one home,” Beth assured her, leaving the door ajar as she stepped back into the small courtyard and whispered, “Come upstairs with me. We can dry your clothes and give the children something to eat and—”
    “No. You have done enough. Thank you.”
    “Where will you go?”
    “I…” Anja’s voice broke. “We will be fine.”
    Beth glanced toward the rows of windows above her. With the requirement for blackout curtains to be secured before any lamps were lit, it was difficult to know if their neighbors were at home. To reach her uncle’s apartment would require leading Anja and the children through the building and up past two other apartments on the second and third floors to the apartment on the fourth—the apartment with the extra attic room. She leaned her head back to look all the way up to the small attic window. Of course there was no way of knowing if Josef had come back.
    “At least step into the hallway here out of the snow,” she urged. “No one will come this way at this hour of the night. You can wait here while I get you some bread—a little cheese.” Beth wrapped her arm around Anja’s thin shoulders and guided her inside. The woman was shivering, whether from the weather or fear or sheer exhaustion, Beth could not say. Probably all three.
    Once they were all safely inside, Beth secured the door and