The Nightingale(140)

“I will miss you,” she said quietly. “How long can you stay?”

“I have to leave in the morning.”

She wanted to release the hold on his hand, but it was difficult. She had this terrible, irrational fear that if she let go of him she would never touch him again and the thought of that was paralyzing. Still, she had a job to do. She let go of him and knocked three times sharply in rapid succession.

Madame opened the door. Dressed in man’s clothing, smoking a Gauloises, she said, “Juliette! Come, come.” She stepped back, welcoming Isabelle and Ga?tan into the main room, where four airmen stood around the dining table. A fire burned in the hearth, and above the flames a black cast-iron pot bubbled and hissed and popped. Isabelle could smell the stew’s ingredients—goat meat; wine; bacon; thick, rich stock; mushrooms and sage. The aroma was heavenly and reminded her that she hadn’t eaten all day.

Madame gathered the men together and introduced them—there were three RAF pilots and an American flier. The three Brits had been there for days, waiting for the American, who had arrived yesterday. Eduardo would be leading them over the mountains in the morning.

“It’s good to meet you,” one of them said, shaking Isabelle’s hand as if she were a water pump. “You’re just as beautiful as we’ve been told.”

The men started talking all at once. Ga?tan moved easily into their midst, as if he belonged with them. Isabelle stood beside Madame Babineau and handed her the envelope of money that should have been delivered almost two weeks earlier. “I’m sorry about the delay.”

“You had a good excuse. How are you feeling?”

Isabelle moved her shoulder, testing it. “Better. In another week, I’ll be ready to make the crossing again.”

Madame handed Isabelle the Gauloises. Isabelle took a long drag and exhaled, studying the men who were now in her charge. “How are they?”

“See the tall, thin one—nose like a Roman emperor?”

Isabelle couldn’t help smiling. “I see him.”

“He claims to be a lord or duke or something. Sarah in Pau said he was trouble. Wouldn’t follow a girl’s orders.”

Isabelle made a note of that. It wasn’t a rarity, of course, fliers who didn’t want to take orders from women—or girls or dames or broads—but it was always a trial.

She handed Isabelle a crumpled, dirt-stained letter. “One of them gave me this to give to you.”

She opened it quickly, scanned the contents. She recognized Henri’s sloppy handwriting:

J—your friend survived her German holiday, but she has guests.

Do not stop by. Will watch out for her.

Vianne was fine—she had been released after questioning—but another soldier, or soldiers, was billeted there. She crumpled the paper and tossed it in the fire. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or more worried. Instinctively, her gaze sought out Ga?tan, who was watching her as he spoke to an airman.

“I see the way you’re watching him, you know.”

“Lord big nose?”

Madame Babineau barked out a laugh. “I am old but not blind. The young handsome one with the hungry eyes. He keeps looking at you, too.”

“He’ll be leaving tomorrow morning.”

“Ah.”

Isabelle turned to the woman who had become her friend in the past two years. “I’m afraid to let him go, which is crazy with all the dangerous things I do.”

The look in Madame’s dark eyes was both knowing and compassionate. “I would tell you to be careful if these were ordinary times. I would point out that he is young and engaged in a dangerous business and young men in danger can be fickle.” She sighed. “But we are cautious about too much these days, and why add love to the list?”

“Love,” Isabelle said quietly.

“I will add this, though, since I am a mother and we can’t help ourselves: A broken heart hurts as badly in wartime as in peace. Say good-bye to your young man well.”

*

Isabelle waited for the house to go quiet—or as quiet as a room could be with men sleeping on the floor, snoring, rolling over. Moving cautiously, she eased out of her blankets and picked her way through the main room and went outside.

Stars flickered overhead, the sky immense in this dark landscape. Moonlight illuminated the goats, turned them into silver-white dots on the hillside.

She stood at the wooden fence, staring out. She didn’t have long to wait.