“I reminded her that love is life,” the German explained. “I have seen so many young men dead before their time in this war. Young women as well. Why not let the lieutenant and the girl have a few minutes to themselves?”
Another five minutes went by before the couple returned, carrying armloads of wood. Both looked rather flushed, Cole thought.
“I reckon someone’s been dancin’ the blanket hornpipe,” Cole said quietly to Vaccaro.
“You and your hillbilly sayings. Back home we call it playing hide the sausage.”
“Whatever you call it, they were doing it, though they really weren’t gone that long. Lieutenant Rupert must be quick as a jackrabbit.”
“Rupert is a lucky bastard,” Vaccaro said.
“No argument from me.”
More logs were put on the fire, and Rupert expertly banked the coals for the night. Not long after that, the women left to go upstairs to bed. First, Madame Jouret took a few of the coals and put them into an old-fashioned bed warmer to help heat the cold bed upstairs. Not even Cole had seen anything like that in years.
Finally, Madame Jouret asked for her shotgun back. Cole thought it over and then agreed. He supposed that the lady of the house had a right to feel as if she could defend herself.
Once the women had gone, Cole told Bauer to hold out his hands.
The German sighed. “Are you really going to tie me up again?”
“I don’t want you to steal my rifle and shoot me during the night,” Cole said. “Or hit me over the head with a chunk of firewood.”
“Do you really think I would shoot you?”
“I would sure as hell shoot
Bauer did as he was told, and Cole once again tied him up. If the German thought this business of being tied up was getting old, then so did Cole. He was tired of feeling like a nursemaid to their prisoner. He hoped that they would be able to drop Herr Barnstormer at HQ tomorrow and be done with him. The German would be someone else’s problem.
Once Bauer was secured again, Cole felt like that was one less threat to worry about and had a change of heart about keeping watch. After the women had been discovered hiding upstairs, it seemed unlikely that the château itself would hold any additional surprises. After barring the kitchen door — which she hadn’t had time to do earlier before fleeing to the attic — Madame Jouret had assured him that the house was locked up tight.
Cole had no reason to doubt her. After all, the heavy shutters over the downstairs windows transformed the place into a fortress. They would awaken in plenty of time if someone tried to get in, because there was no way to do that quietly.
Cole gave a final glance around the room. Vaccaro was already snoring, thanks to the brandy. He’d had a lot more to drink than Cole.
The German had stretched out on a sofa, his boots hanging off one end, put his bound hands under him for a pillow, and now appeared to be asleep.
Only Lieutenant Rupert still seemed to be awake, tossing and turning on the floor — most likely thinking about that girl upstairs.
The fire crackled gently in the hearth, red embers glowing. He mused that if this was as bad as the war got, it wouldn’t be half-bad.
Cole wrapped himself in his blanket and closed his eyes.
Cole slept deeply, unfettered by dreams. He awoke to gray morning light filtering between the cracks in the shutters and through the gaps in the thick drapes. It wasn’t anything close to sunshine, but instead the gloom of another dreary winter day. That was all there seemed to be in Europe, one gray day after another.
He was just starting to wonder whether they would ever see the sunshine again. The winter was beginning to seem endless, and summer felt like some dim memory. He longed for a crisp winter day with the sun bright on the new-fallen snow and not a breath of wind.
Like most country people, Cole tended to be an early riser, up before dawn, but he had slept late in the relative luxury of the château drawing room. He was just as exhausted as anyone.
He sensed that something had awakened him, so he looked around the room. In the dim light, he saw that Bauer and Lieutenant Rupert were still slumbering, but not Vaccaro, which was something of a surprise.
The city boy was already up, grasping his rifle as he peered anxiously through a gap in the shutters.
“What the hell are you doing up?” Cole muttered.
Seeing that Cole was awake, Vaccaro whispered, “Country boy, we’ve got a problem.”
“Just one? That ain’t hardly worth mentioning.”
“Yeah, but it’s a big one.”
“What’s that?”
“We’ve got company.”
“The way you’re sayin’ that makes me think it ain’t the Rockettes.”
“It’s sure as hell not. Better take a look.”
Cole roused himself, crawling out from under the warm blankets. The fire had died out during the night, leaving the room cold. The morning air also held a lingering mustiness from the house, like an old book that has spent too long on a dusty shelf. That slight whiff of dampness added to the overall feeling of being surrounded by gloom.
