Free Tidings of Comfort and Joy by T. Davis Bunn Page B

offered.
    "I'm sorry, the what?"
    "The local, the pub." Fred was totally oblivious to the dark look Rachel was shooting his way. "The Horse and Groom, just at the top of New Street. The townsfolk call it the Gloom and Doom, don't ask me why. Those Yank flyboys, they claimed it as their own. Take those fourwheel-drive jeeps over roads I wouldn't try in my dreams."
    "We should be off, Fred," Rachel said crisply, climbing inside the cab.
    But Fred was too busy grinning and talking to pay her any mind. "Had one of 'em tell me they had their nerves surgically removed the day they pinned on their wings. I wouldn't put it past a few of them to try and—"
    "Fred!"
    "Right away, mum." Fred scampered around to his door.I stood there, feeling at a loss as to what I should do with my day. Rachel observed my confusion, and leaned back through the door. "My dear, I do wish you would reconsider and join me."
    "I'd just be in the way," I replied, though the invitation held the appeal of at least filling the empty hours.
    "Oh, piffle." Rachel slid over and patted the seat beside her. "We are so understaffed, I shouldn't be surprised if the day shift didn't fall at your feet in gratitude just for showing up."
    "It's the truth, Miss Emily," Fred called from the front seat. "It's a right shambles up there. Why, just the other day they—"
    "That is quite enough, Fred," Rachel rapped out. "I am paying you to drive, not spread your dreadful rumors."
    "Right you are, Miss Rachel." Fred grinned as he pumped the gas bag lever and pulled on the choke. "Right you are."
    THAT MORNING, THE village of Arden appeared straight from a fairy-tale painting. All the ancient buildings stood draped in snow and icicles. The air smelled of wood smoke and winter. Chimneys puffed cheerily, and windows glazed in frost stared back at me. People were made plump by padding, their faces lost behind scarves and hats and shawls.
    We climbed the slope leading beyond the clinic and on out of town, up to where the clouds draped lazily over the hills. Forests from a black-and-white etching closed in about us. Little stone cottages appeared now and then, surrounded by snow-covered hedges. In several yards, horses stamped and jingled their harnesses as families loaded carts with crates and milk tins.
    "Egg deliveries," Rachel explained. "With the rationing we've returned to earlier times."
    "What is it you do at the War College?" I asked.
    "Everything under the sun, and then some," Fred offered cheerily.
    "That will do, Fred," Rachel said mildly, and patted my knee. "It will be easier to show you than try and describe what has taken place in our little village, my dear."
    "Best thing that could have happened, if you ask me,"Fred declared.
    This time, Rachel did not dispute. Instead, she said to me, "Now as to your trying to find a way back to America, you mustn't concern yourself over how long you'll be staying in my little place."
    "I'll pay you rent," I offered. "But I need—"
    She shushed me with another pat. "We can work something out, of that I am certain. With everything else that has befallen you, I want this to be the last thing on your mind."
    The simple kindness brought a burning to my eyes."You've been awfully nice, Rachel."
    "Nonsense. It's the least I can do." Her eyes lit up as Fred turned through a pair of great stone gates and entered a long tree-lined drive. "Here we are, my dear."
    The elms were centuries old and thicker than I was tall.Through the snow-covered boughs I caught glimpses of a house that drew a gasp from my lips. Four stories of stone and turrets and gables and gargoyles, a fantasy palace standing proud and stern in a vast sea of white.
    Rachel paid my reaction no mind, nor did Fred. For as we drew up before the vast entrance, the front doors opened, and a sea of little figures came cascading down the stairs. There were so many of them, and they were making so much noise, that I drew back from the door.
    Then I saw Fred smiling and rolling down