Free Lovers in Enemy Territory by Rebecca Winters Page A

Sister.”
    “All right. Let’s see.” She rolled her eyes in mock pretense of concentration. Jeffrey had thought of them as being clear blue, but now he saw a tinge of violet that shown like a rare amethyst though the black lashes. She stood up and put her hands to her full, wide mouth. Her lips were red as the wine that had touched them. She pretended to blow on a horn.
    Jeffrey had forgotten the game as he fixed his attention on her. He had to rack his brain to think of the answer, but it wouldn’t come.
    “Daddy-- don’t you know? It’s Little Boy Blue.”
    “Yes,” she cried and gave him a kiss. He turned to his father. “It’s your turn now.”
    “I’m not quite up to this,” he apologized. “Let’s see.” Finally he ran about the room knocking on the door and window.
    “Wee Willie Winkie!” Michael clapped his hands.
    “Couldn’t fool you.” He patted his son’s cheek. They played several rounds of charades, then Michael tired. He said his prayers and soon was asleep. Catherine pulled the covers over him and gave him a goodnight kiss. “I love you.”
    Jeffrey heard her. How could the boy help but love her too. He thought of the other children back at the convent and wagered she was sorely missed. In fact he began to realize how remarkable it was that she’d come to Norwood at all-- that she was here with Michael, taking care of him as only she could do.
    “Sister, thank you for what you’re doing for him. I’m going back to the house now, but I’ll see you in the morning. I won’t forget the books.”
    “Thank you for the delicious dinner. It was kind of you. Good night.” They clasped hands briefly.
    “Call me if Michael should need me, no matter the hour. Good night.”
    Jens was waiting as he stepped out the hospital doors. The air was soft and sweet. Jeffrey took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. He felt as if the terrible episodes of Connie’s death and Michael’s illness were things of the past. He hadn’t had this feeling of well being for a long time.
    When he thought of Michael now, he knew his son was in the best of hands. A feeling of sweet relief flooded through him. Tonight he would sleep as he hadn’t done in over a year.
    He rested his head against the back of the seat. A smile still played on his lips to remember the events of the evening. Like a montage, Catherine’s face appeared animated, thoughtful, happy, sad, haunting, radiant...spiritual. She was resourceful as well as intelligent. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent such an enjoyable evening.
    Catherine prepare for bed after a period of prayer in the chapel. The hospital was quiet. Dr. Endicott made his nightly rounds. Now it was time to sleep, but she couldn’t turn off her mind. So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours, sleep was impossible.
    Michael was going to get well. What a great blessing! But she found herself thinking other thoughts too. Michael’s father was on her mind. He’d left the room so happy and relaxed. She’d found him easy to talk to. In the car on the way to Norwood, she’d feared that being in his company would prove to be uncomfortable. But nothing was further from the truth. She could talk to him as easily as she did the Holy Mother.
    It had been a very pleasant evening, and so thoughtful of him to bring the fish and wine. He even planned on sending books to the convent. She thought of the games they’d played. No doubt he hadn’t said nursery rhymes since his childhood.
    Michael was a wonderful child. He obviously received his good nature from his father.
    Her thoughts continued to drift until she knew no more. The next morning she got up early to go to chapel. Now she was ready to entertain Michael. He seemed much more chipper and ate a substantial amount of oatmeal. Color was reappearing in his cheeks and a smile brightened his face. The two of them were going over sa list of items Michael wanted when Jeffrey walked in with a load of books beneath his