Free Lovers in Enemy Territory by Rebecca Winters Page B

arm.
    She stared for a moment. He was clean shaven and sportily dressed in a brown jersey and trousers. A heathery fragrance entered the room with him. He looked different somehow, dashing even. He radiated health and vigor. She was dazzled by his smile and looked away.
    “Good morning. I can see you two are already hard at work.”
    Michael reached for his father and hugged him. “Daddy, we’ve made a list of things we want.”
    Jeffrey scanned it. “If I’d known, I would have brought them with me. It looks like you’ll be doing some sketching. I recall those geese drawings. I want the truth now.” He looked around with a half smile. “Did you do them all by yourself.”
    “Sister helped me,” he answered honestly.
    “I thought so. Sister?” He turned to her. “They were very good. I have them in my study and would like to see more of your work.”
    “I’m afraid you’d be disappointed. I’m no artist.”
    “Yes you are,” Michael challenged her. “My daddy’s good at drawing too.”
    “Really?” Her eyes probed Jeffrey’s, interested in this new aspect of him, but he shook his head.”
    “Yes he is. Draw her a picture of a plane. He can draw anything, just like you, Sister.”
    The two adults exchanged glances. Catherine spoke first. “Well, when we get some paper, we’ll have you draw something special for us, like a Sunderland.”
    Jeffrey blinked. “How would you know about that?’
    She bit her lip in a teasing manner, unaware of the sauce picture she made. “I know a lot about you, Commander.” She placed the emphasis on his title in a low voice. “Your son is a veritable encyclopedia.”
    He laughed. “I hope he hasn’t let all the skeletons out of the closet.”
    “Oh—“ She smiled. “Not too many.”
    “I’ll get the things you need and be right back.” He left the room excited.
    Catherine checked the stack of books, looking forward to the moments when she could spend time reading. Michael searched for his books and started reading out loud. Catherine thumbed through Bonaparte. She’d start with that book first.
    “Did I bring something to interest you?”
    “Oh—“ She hadn’t realized Jeffrey had returned. “Yes. Thank you so much.”
    He sat down next to Michael and started to sketch something on paper. Both heads were caught in concentration. It caught at her heart to see them so happy. She continued to read, but occasionally she walked over to see how things were progressing. He drew with swift, rapid strokes, decisive and clear. A two-decked plane was emerging from the pencil.
    “You really are good.” She stepped closer to observe his work.
    “It’s just part of my job,” he responded modestly. The plane was coming to life now.
    She was fascinated. “It’s a very large plane, isn’t it.” She leaned over to see better.
    Her face was so close, he could see the fine down on her cheeks. “Yes. The biggest one in the air command. It seats a crew of seven, but we’ve had as many as forty-three in it one on rescue missions.”
    This man had risked his life to save others. He’d received a medal for bravery during the early days of the war, but he was too humble to ever talk about it. He really was quite extraordinary. Michael would have a lot to live up to.
    Jeffrey sketched for a while longer. Michael drew right alongside him. After a lunch of stew, he settled back for another nap. Catherine returned to her novel and Jeffrey started another sketch. After a time she discovered his eyes on her, studying her carefully. She put the book down.
    “Don’t move, Sister.”
    His command startled her. She didn’t budge. He made a few quick strokes with his pencil. “There.” He finally put the picture on the table.
    She moved around to take a look.
    He’d sketched her and Michael as he’d seen them the night of the crisis. She was kneeling at his bed, holding his hand.
    Tears gathered in her eyes. She blinked hard to keep them from falling. “You’re a