It was only two o’clock, but Ivy stepped to the side. “Of course. Will I see you in church tomorrow?”
His gaze skittered past her to the stairs. “I’ve been attending German-language services. I need to look loyal.”
“Oh yes. I see. It must be difficult for you lately. I’m glad they believed you, though, about Bernardus escaping, presumed dead. I saw it in theEvening Post.”
“Yes. Excuse me.” He edged past without meeting her gaze.
The trill sank into a mire of disappointment, but she had more to say. “Thank you for what you’re doing. The maps and such.”
“Pardon?” He turned back.
She tried for a teasing smile. “I’m glad you’re on the right side after all.”
He gave her a nod, but his eyebrows pinched together. “I’m sorry we involved Charlie.”
“Don’t be.” She’d given it much consideration over the past few weeks, and her hand fluttered in a dismissive way. “I won’t pretend I’m not worried about him. I am. But I’m also extraordinarily proud of him. I told him so. Our father would be proud too.”
“We lost our contacts anyway, so...” He sidestepped down the hall. “I need to...”
“Leave, yes. Goodbye.” After he returned her goodbye and headed downstairs, Ivy turned for Bernardus’s room. She mighthave been correct about Gerrit’s character, but she’d been mistaken imagining he might be attracted to her. As had Fern.
And that connection she’d sensed when she met him a year earlier. The connection she’d felt each time she’d seen him since. An illusion.
In the bedroom, Bernardus lay in bed with his leg propped up.
“How are you today?” she asked.
Bernardus rolled his head away from her toward the wall. “Crippled, bored, chastened.”
Ivy pulled up a chair, opened her medical bag, and set the kitchen timer so she’d leave in time for her appointment. Then she unwrapped the bandages. “The crippling is temporary. We saved part of your foot, including the heel, which will aid in walking. And much of the musculature in your calf and thigh will grow back in time. Next week, we’ll have you start walking with a crutch.”
“I wish the chastening was temporary.” He balled up the blanket in his fists.
She raised a soothing smile, but her patient stared at the wall. “I’m glad Gerrit visited. Has he forgiven you?”
“As always, yes. If only I’d learn to give him less to forgive.”
What a blessing it must be to have a friendship like Gerrit and Bernardus had.
Ivy examined the surgical incisions—all clean with no signs of redness or infection. Aunt Opal was caring for him well.
“Any word from your contacts?” Bernardus asked.
Dr. Tipton and the others in the ring had balked at adding Bernardus to the lifeline. Although presumed to be dead, Bernardus was far too valuable to the Germans, and his very Dutch looks would make disguise difficult.
But Ivy had pressed her case and prevailed. “They’ve agreed.”
“Perhaps they shouldn’t have done. If the Germans learn I’m alive...”
Ivy had seen what they’d done to Demyan Marchenko. How much worse would they treat a resistance member who had infiltratedtheir Todt organization, a man who had fooled them and made a fool of them?
Ivy suppressed a sigh and pinned the bandages back in place. Her job was only to help him heal and to keep him hidden.
Ivy rounded the corner on her bicycle. Up ahead, Mary Surcouf climbed the steps to La Bliue Brise with little Penny on her hip.
Was Ivy late? She’d left the farmhouse even before the kitchen timer dinged. She glanced at her wristwatch—ten minutes early.
A distinctive cough flowed down the street.
