High as the Heavens by Kate Breslin

Author:Kate Breslin [Breslin, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Fiction, FIC042030, FIC042040, FIC027200, World War (1914-1918)—Underground movements—Fiction, Women spies—Belgium—Fiction, Man-woman relationships—Fiction, Christian fiction, Love stories, Spy Stories
ISBN: 9781441231222
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2017-06-06T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

You’re leaving Brussels?”

Eve heard the agitation in Simon’s voice as she lit the last of several candles she’d brought from the café. “It’s only for a few days, to help out at the hospital in Charleroi. I’ll be back on Friday.”

Warm light soon infused the small chamber. “Much better,” she said and gazed toward her husband, seated on the bench. “I can see you now.”

Noting his damp hair, she caught a whiff of soap and sage. “You had a bath?”

He smiled at her. “About time, don’t you think?”

He was also wearing the clothes she’d brought him the night before.

“You’re like a new man,” she said, both surprised and heartened. “How did you manage?”

“The priest helped me with the hair washing.” He raked his fingers through his curly damp locks. “I took care of the rest. I managed all right, and kept my bandage dry, but I was surely missing my nurse’s tender care.”

Eve’s stomach fluttered at the devilish gleam in his eyes. He looked quite handsome. “Well, you smell very nice,” she said softly.

She walked to the bench and began emptying her coat pockets of the tinned meat and vegetables she’d purchased from the black market. From an inside pocket she produced a small stoppered jug of hot cabbage soup. “It’s not coffee, but it will warm you.” She smiled. “And I admit it’s left over from the Kohlsuppe Uncle Lucien prepared tonight.”

She’d made an excuse to leave the café an hour before closing, and had entered the tunnel by way of the church. “You shouldn’t starve while I’m gone, and there are enough ingredients so that Father Francois can make you both a decent stew.”

Eve still worried about leaving him. She assessed him from head to toe, trying to reassure herself he would be all right. “Are you getting on with the crutches? How is your foot?”

His mouth lifted. “If I didn’t know better, lass, I’d say you cared.”

“You know I do,” she insisted, despite his teasing.

His smile broadened. “Then I’ll just have to show you.”

Instead of reaching for the crutches leaning against the bench, he stood and began to pace slowly back and forth across the small space. Eve could discern only a subtle limp as he favored his injured heel.

“That’s wonderful!”

“I thought so, too.” He grinned, his pride in the accomplishment evident.

Her pulse quickened as she gazed at his beautiful smile and flashing white teeth, then at the strong jaw with its tiny cleft. His eyes were the color of rain, and they gleamed in the candlelight. A pang of sadness seized her. Soon he would be well enough to travel, to leave Brussels and return to Britain. Without her.

His smile faltered, as if he read her thoughts. He retraced his steps and stopped before her. Just two weeks ago he’d been lying in the hospital bed, bruised and broken, wearing bloodstained bandages. He seemed a much different man now.

“You’ll be waltzing right out of here before long,” she said in a throaty voice, but he didn’t seem to be listening.

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