“You don’t need to go,” she reminded him.
He cupped the side of her face with a warm palm, his expression a mask of regret. “I don’t want to lose you, Dee, but I have to go.”
He pulled her into an embrace. His entire body trembled. How could she let him go when he was a quivering mass of nerves? She scrambled for every possible reason to keep him home and safe.
“The Atlantic is swarming with U-boats,” she choked out.
He squeezed her tighter. “I know.”
“Tuberculosis is running rampant in France. There’s no cure for it.”
“I know that too.”
This was probably the last time they would ever hold each other. His odds of coming back home were slim, and even if he did, she wouldn’t be waiting for him. Despair filled her chest and squeezed her heart. There were a million things she wanted to say. To thank him for standing up to the bullies at the orphanage. Thank him for teaching her to fly kites and how to dream. Even though he’d let her down, Finn was a good man, and a part of her would always love him.
“Good luck,” she whispered in his ear.
He clasped her face between his hands and kissed her with heartfelt desperation. This was their last kiss, and they both knew it.
“Thanks, Dee,” he said into her hair. “Thanks for being the best friend I ever had.”
She wasn’t able to speak anymore. All she could do was embrace him one final time, heart to heart, friend to friend.
She disentangled herself and turned away so that Finn’s last sight of her on this earth wouldn’t show her face twisted with anguish.
Then she walked away without looking back.
25
Delia’s heart ached as she strode away from the port. It would be easier to bear if she didn’t still love Finn, but his instinctive urge to rush to Mathilde’s rescue was so characteristically him. The man believed he could do just about anything, often disregarding the consequences and his own safety. Loving Finn and knowing he was heading straight into the jaws of danger made it hard for her to put one foot in front of the other.
But her disillusionment didn’t matter. She needed to tell Bertie what Finn intended, even though it felt like she was betraying him.Finnwas the person who had betrayed them by walking away from his responsibilities to the Army and the CRB. And yet here she was, awash with guilt as she approached Bertie’s town house. The railing was cold as she grasped it, barely finding the strength to trudge up the short flight of steps.
Mrs. Hoover opened the door. “Delia. Come in out of the wind, dear. Is Finn with you?”
“No,” she replied, stepping inside and clutching her arms across her chest, her stomach churning with anxiety.
“I imagine he’s busy preparing for his trip to Chicago,” Mrs.Hoover said. “Let me have your coat, and then you can tell us what brought you out on such a dreadful morning.”
She held her arms tighter. “I’ll keep my coat on, thank you. I feel so cold.”
Mrs. Hoover closed the door. “Come inside. Let me get you something hot to drink. Bertie? Delia is here to see you,” she called out, then lowered her voice to speak quietly to Delia. “He’s getting ready to head back to Europe, and I’m worried sick about it. Those awful U-boats are everywhere. Did you hear that another of our ships got hit last week? Everyone was rescued, but nine hundred tons of grain is now at the bottom of the Atlantic. Such a terrible waste.”
Delia stood in the kitchen as Mrs. Hoover set a kettle on the cast-iron stove. A hot drink might help to stop her shivering and the chattering of her teeth, for thinking of what Finn would be facing when he arrived in Europe had made her blood run cold.
Mrs. Hoover handed her a porcelain teacup lavishly embellished with blue-and-white Chinese figures. “A memento of our years in China, back when Bertie worked as a mining engineer,” she said. “It seems so long ago now. The work was difficult, but nothing like what we deal with today.”
Heavy footsteps thudded in the hallway. “What’s got you looking so tragic?” Bertie asked, accepting a cup of tea from his wife.
“I saw Finn off at the port this morning. He’s sailing to France.”
Bertie stilled, the teacup halfway to his mouth. His face grew serious as he set it down with a gentle click. “Why isn’t he on his way to Chicago?”
This was it. It was hard to keep her head up as she delivered the news. “Finn learned that the woman who rescued him in Belgium has been arrested, and he is determined to save her. He left for France an hour ago.”
Delia watched as Bertie absorbed the news. Though his expression remained composed, the brief flicker of sadness in his eyes betrayed his disappointment.
“It appears we must continue operating on a reduced budget,” he said. “That is a battle for another day. Far more urgent is getting the Port of Rotterdam reopened to our ships. You know Benedict Kincaid, don’t you?”
