They watched her go inside, then John pulled Adele into a hug. “Thanks,” he said. “That was a great night.” He shoved Jerry back a step. “Don’t stay out all night, Jerry. I’ll be waiting in the car.”
“He’s a good man,” she said, watching John’s back.
“Subtle as a brick,” Jerry agreed.
She stepped closer to him. “And then there’s you.”
“Then there’s me.” He tucked his hands in his front pockets, but she could tell he was pleased with himself. “I’m not too bad either.”
She kept moving toward him. “No, you’re not.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled with his smile. “Well, maybe a little bit bad. I am a rumrunner, after all.”
“My rumrunner,” she said, then she rose up on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“My bluebird,” he replied softly, bending to kiss her in the most beautiful way.
twenty-twoJERRY
Jerry took the ring out of John’s palm and raised it to the light over his desk, admiring the way the diamonds seemed to catch fire.
“You’re sure?” he asked. “It’s rightfully yours.”
John shook his head. “None of the ladies I know are ready to take that big step. Or maybe it’s just me. Anyway, Ma would’ve like seeing it on Adele’s finger. I think the two of them would have been good friends.”
“I like to think so.”
“Aunt Judy and Uncle Henry send their best. They’re already cracking open champagne in your honour.”
Jerry gave him a look. “She has to say yes first.”
“You know, Jerry, the only other thing she might say beside yes is ‘it’s about time.’ By the way, I saw Charlie when I was picking that up from Aunt Judy,” he went on. “He said to let you know that Willoughby lost another customer today.”
Jerry smiled, still looking at the ring. “So we have a new customer, do we?”
“The last time I saw Witless, he was not looking pleased with me.”
“That’s always good news. Just be careful.”
John gave him a bear hug just before Jerry left the warehouse on his way to pick up Adele. “I’m looking forward to gaining a couple of sisters,” he said into Jerry’s ear. “Congratulations, brother.”
When he drove up and parked at Adele’s house, she was already waiting outside for him. That was by design, though she had no idea. When Jerry had asked Guillaume’s permission for Adele’s hand, Guillaume had suggested he meet her outside. He said he didn’t think he and his wife could keep from grinning.
Before he could get out of the car, Adele slipped into the passenger seat of the Ford and leaned toward him so he could give her a kiss.
“Where are you taking me, soldier?”
“It’s a surprise,” he said, driving back toward the road.
He’d wanted to show her the house for a long time. Ever since the moment he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, which, if he was honest with himself, was back in Belgium. Then again on the day he walked in on her with Willoughby. Then every day since. Now, his heart hammered with nerves. She peered around as he turned down the long drive, passed the six elms, then sped toward the big white house with its tall, sharp roofline, its friendly bay window, and the wide, welcoming porch wrapping around the front door area. As they got closer, Adele leaned forward, taking it all in. He glanced at her face, noting her interest with pleasure. The three-sided window at the front was dark for now, since John had left them alone for the night. It was on the east wall, and Jerry couldn’t wait for her to see how much light would flood in every morning.
“This is my house. My father built it.”
“It’s beautiful, Jerry,” she said.
“Let me show you the inside.”
His whole body hummed with nerves as they walked to the front door. He’d gone underground hundreds of times, somehow surviving beneath the worst of the war, and yet he’d never felt jitters like this before.
