A Rose for the Resistance by Angela K Couch

Author:Angela K Couch [Couch, Angela K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781636092515
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2022-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Dawn glowed on the horizon, but the sun had not quite showed itself as Franz hurried toward the stream. An entire week had passed since he’d last met Rosalie there. The deep grasses washed his boots with the heavy dew. He jogged the last few yards, a strange nervousness mingling with the anticipation of seeing her again. If she was there. With his long absence, duty and discretion keeping him away, he would be surprised if she hadn’t given up on him and remained home to enjoy her morning away from mosquitoes and the cool, moist air.

As he neared the oak, resignation and disappointment settled into his chest.

She might still come, he reminded himself.

A form moved, rising from a large rock behind the tree. She turned, and the corners of her mouth lifted. “You’re here.”

“I’m sorry it’s been so long. It’s not always possible to get away.”

She closed the Bible and hugged it to her chest. “You told me as much when you agreed to meet.”

He stopped near her and tucked his hands into the pockets of his tweed coat to keep them from reaching out to her. “What would you like to learn today?”

She held up a finger to hush him. “First, I must know if you were able to warn Madame Monette.”

He nodded. “A note that she and anyone else involved with the bookstore were no longer safe. No one remained when the Gestapo raided the building two days ago.”

Rosalie glanced heavenward and murmured a prayer of thanks. The smile she rewarded him with, though slight, made the risks he’d taken all the more worthwhile. “Danke schön.”

It was his turn to smile. “Sehr gut. You have practiced?”

“A little,” she replied in turn, then leaned against the tree. She switched to French. “There is so much left to learn, things I might hear when they stop me to look at my papers.”

“Ihre Dokumente?”

“Ja. But also, what they say to each other.”

He knew exactly what they might say, as it was often enough on his mind. “Was für eine schöne Fräulein.”

She raised her brows, waiting for his translation, and warmth crept up his neck. Perhaps he should have started elsewhere.

“What a beautiful woman.” It was impossible to say it without some of the sincerity he felt.

She cleared her throat. “I suppose that is a good phrase to know.”

“I imagine similar is said often of you.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she glanced at the babbling stream. “I wish they wouldn’t.”

“It’s impossible not to notice.” Though thankfully they would most likely never see her as she was now—the morning light glowing in her hair, her eyes bright but softened by the mist, and her lips pursed in thought. He ached to pull out his book and sketch her as he had the flowers near her home.

His thoughts must have been evident in his movements as she looked to his satchel with questioning in her eyes. “What did you bring?”

“Only my sketchbook and pencils.”

“Show me.”

He pulled the book from its place and surrendered it to her.

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