At the crossroads of love and war

At the crossroads of love and war
By
Rachel Pryce

Prologue

It was a dark day.  A storm was sitting just off the horizon.  The bodies of American solders piled three deep along the fence line.  Some shot in the head, most shot in the back.  A tall man with the markings of an officer walked slowly down the line of carnage.  His murderous glower cleared his path to the vehicles.  No one stopped him from mounting a motorcycle, its tires tearing up the road as the winding lane carried the man out of sight.  He never looked back. 

At the crossroads of love and war

“The guys at the motor pool are going to get it when I’m back on base.  That fuel gage has got to be broken.”  Debbie’s grumblings did nothing to cheer Michelle up, not this time, or the first time, or an hour ago when she started this new tirade on the motor pool.

She didn’t feel safe, and she would not until she was back on the relative safety of the military outpost.  They had been part of a small convoy of soldiers, no more than thirty transport vehicles.  The ambush was quick and devastating; they had barely escaped with their lives; she wondered how many people made it out.  She had to tell command: the German forces were close.

The two nurses were not alone, they had one armed escort, Private Eddy Simmons, the driver of the jeep, but she didn’t know if she was safer with him or without him.  She felt his eyes roaming all over her, but every time she stopped to look him in the face he would pretend to be deeply involved in the care of his BAR rifle, or lighting yet another cigarette.  Debbie did not seem to notice or care; all that concerned her was the five mile walk back to camp.  By her estimates they had been walking for over two miles may be even three by now.  The women’s wool capes helped protect them from the light drizzle of sleet that had been falling for the last half hour, but there white cotton caps could do nothing to keep the misty rain from slowly drenching their hair flat to their heads.  The cold snow-edged road was slowly freezing her feet from the bottom up.  She hoped they found shelter before nightfall. 
Ten minutes later the storm broke.

The three ran looking for cover, over the next hill they came across an abandoned shack of a house, a heaven compared to the storm.  Michelle dropped her medical bag and started to shake out the water from her garments, then without warning, he took her.  Eddy pushed her against the wall in one sharp motion.  Her cry was echoed by Debbie’s own, pulling Eddy’s attention toward her.  His gun was in his free hand pointed at Debbie’s head.  Only her quivering lip moved.  Michelle had volunteered to be a nurse to fight Nazi’s, but she never thought to fear her own people. 
“What are you doing, what do you want?  You know we don’t have any money.  We’ve got to get back to the others; they have to know what’s coming.”  Debbie’s attempt at rational thinking might have been a reasonable effort, but Michelle knew there was nothing reasonable in Eddie’s eyes; they were to close for her to mistake their look.  He was out for a night of fun, and they were to be his amusement.
Michelle looked around the room for something to help free herself; the light inside the room was dim at best with the thunderstorm raging around the house.  She could see the remains of basic farm furniture: a table, two chairs, and a smaller desk on its side by the fireplace, a stack of firewood, and a closet door.  She spotted nothing blunt or sharp to aid her.

Eddie struck Debbie in the face with the back of his wide hand.  She hit the hard cobbled floor with an immediate and oddly muffled thump.  The heft of the gun in his hand had made the force almost a killing blow.  Michelle looked hard for evidence of breath; Debbie was alive but unconscious, unable to help herself or Michelle.  Eddy turned his gleeful green eyes from the limp body on the floor to face his first victim.

“She talked too much, don’t you think?”  Eddy said in an oddly conversational tone.

The gun was enough to keep her still as he reached into his kaki utility belt to pull out a length of strong twine.  He wrapped her wrists in a knot that pinched and seemed to get tighter the more she pulled against it.  He attached the other end of the ropes to a stout cast iron fixture on the fire place.  This forced Michelle into a strange crouching position, she might have sat down but she did not want to be any more venerable.  She would keep her footing until he had to take it from her.  She braced herself for a fight, wishing she had on trousers; they would give him more trouble than the winter wool skirt and petticoat she was wearing.

He took a step back to look at her, deciding where he would start.  With his first approach, Michelle kicked out at him with all the strength her hunched position would give her, it did not land home.  Eddy laughed at her as he rubbed the spot on his leg that she did hit; she had missed his genitals.  His unpolished military boot made solid contact with the back of her knee.  The strain on her wrists set off a stabbing pain as her knees hit the floor.  Twisting toward him she spit in his face. He answered that with a lazy slap across her jaw line. 

Eddy stood up strait, moving to the other side of the room.  He took off his smooth metal helmet, setting it on the ground by the door next to Debbie’s limp body.  Next he took off the utility belt; he put this by the helmet, far from her reach.  The rifle he placed on the wood table, if she could only free herself to reach it.  He finished with the buttons of his jacket.  Tossing it towards the door, he pulled the tale of his undershirt free from the waist band of his pants, drawing it up over his head in one motion.  She thought it odd that he left his boots on.  The red of his hair was repeated on his chest, he was not a clean man.  With his shirt now off she could smell his unwashed skin; he gave her a grimy smile.  She started trying to fray the ropes on the metal bracket.  This would take time but the ruff rusty metal fitting gave her hope.

He made his second approach.  Michelle did not lash out at him this time; she let him get in a little closer.  He had to think he was winning.  Squatting down on one knee, he twisted his left hand in her long braid, keeping her head immobile.  He kissed her roughly, forcing her mouth open; his tongue tasted of old alcohol.  The ash flavor from his menthols triggered her gag reflex.  He backed off of his kiss, giving her a chance to cough.  His cold laugh created a fury in her.  He forced a second kiss, this time she bit his bottom lip hard.  His full handed slap was instant vengeance, connecting with her temple.  She knew he would retaliate, but even anticipated pain is never pleasant, her stomach threatened to empty itself.

She looked up into his face, the blood running from his lower lip made her smile.  She stifled a laugh.  Laughing would just drive him crazy.  She had succeeded in giving him only one scream at the beginning.  He wanted a broken spirit, but she was not going to just roll over and give it to him.  If he had wanted that, he should have knocked her out and started with Debbie.

He avoided kissing her after that – at least on the mouth.  He removed her shoes without untying them first; she thought he would pull her feet from her ankles.  He forced her wool skirt up around her hips, his fingernails left deep scratches on her upper thighs as he dragged her nylons down, the garters snapping away from the upper bands.  She had saved up months for those now they lay ripped and abandoned in front of the fireplace.  He tore at her top next, the wool jacket giving some resistance; she had reinforced the stitching on the buttons herself.  Her uniform shirt was next, the rest of her buttons flying all over the floor.  Her stiff undergarments were the only thing between her modesty and his filthy hands.  He paused looking at her, tracing the lace outline with a grimy finger, and then he started back on his own clothing, fumbling with the buttons of his pants.

She could no longer keep silent, she screamed with all her willpower.  She did not know if it would do any good.  Debbie did not stir at the high pitch siren call.  It did give Eddie a renewed evil glow to his eyes.  He wanted her to scream, wanted to know that he had power over her.  She tried to kick him again, but he grabbed hold of her ankles with ease moving her feet further apart.  She started to squirm, moving every muscle that she had at her command.  Eddie licked his lips; he was ready to start round two.

The door was suddenly and violently kicked in from the outside, the rain still coming down in sheets.  A towering giant of a man robed in black was framed by the door way.  The man kicked Eddie’s helmet aside as he entered the room.  Michelle looked to Eddie’s face; the overwhelming look of fear was almost worth the last hour of pain.  The stranger moved toward Eddie with a strong deliberate stride.  Retreating, the private tried to do up the buttons of his pants moving into the corner of the room.  The man followed, backhanding Eddie with a gloved hand.  This seemed to strengthen Eddie’s spine; he reared his arm back to throw a punch, but the stranger used this momentum against him, sending Eddie stumbling toward the table.  Michelle stifled a scream; the gun was on the table.  Eddie seized it; pointing the BAR rifle toward the stranger, but he was faster, pulling his own gun.  The shot from his handgun seemed to shake the house on its foundations.  Eddie’s body crumpled to the ground bumping into Debbie, sending the rifle spinning over the floor.

The combination of the gunshot and being touched brought Debbie around.  She sat up slowly, holding her head.  She screamed as her eyes came to rest on their assailant’s bloody body.  The man in black started to reach for Debbie, but at that moment a stray silver lightning bolt illuminated the room.  The man wore the uniform of an SS officer, his Luger pistol still smoking in his hand.  Debbie screamed, stumbling for the door as fast as she could, the man reached for her, but Debbie was too quick for the officer.  She had escaped.  Michelle was suddenly alone with a dead rapist and an unknown enemy soldier.

The officer drug Eddie’s body out the open door.  Michelle thought she could see a slight blood trail left on the floor.  She closed her eyes; she could not believe her luck, who would believe a night of rape could get worse!  Keeping her eyes shut, working her hands back and forth against the rusty fixture she felt even more exposed, her clothing still pushed back in the position Eddie had left them.  She tried to wiggle her skirt back down but it was caught on the ruff floor.  She felt the stranger come back into the room before she heard his footsteps.  She had not expected him to speak to her, let alone in English.

“Ma’am, how much did that bad man hurt you?”  The shock of those words brought her eyes wide, looking for his face.  A Texas accent!  Being born and raised in Oklahoma, Michelle knew the familiar twang when she heard it.  This was impossible.

“How?  You’re an American?”

“Yes, I have been working under cover most of the year as a member of the Kampfgruppe Peiper, the First SS Panzer Division.  What is your name?”  He unhooked her hands from the fireplace, gently undoing the twine from her wrists.  As soon as she was freed she started to cover herself, but her buttons were all over the ground.  Griping her shirt together, she tried to get some hold on herself.

“My name is Michelle, Lieutenant Michelle Gibson with the Army Nurse Corps.”  His uniform scared her; the SS emblem on his neck seemed to threaten her.  “Are you really an American, Who is the president of the United States?”  He seemed to ignore her question for a moment, she thought she saw a small smile as he turned toward the fireplace; he had gathered things to burn when her eyes were close and was now building a fire.

“My name is Captain Jonathan Peterson, and Harry S. Truman is the president of the United States.  I could serenade you with all four verses of the Star Spangled Banner if you like, please call me Johnny. ” The sincerity in his voice brought her eyes to meet his.  He looked like a poster child for the Nazi state.  His hair was a wispy blond, cut short by his ears with just enough on top to form a part on the left side.  The blue of his eyes was something out of the comic books.  She found herself trusting him, she did not want to but his accent and manor soothed her.  He had rescued her.  She moved toward him, his arms looked strong, his shoulders wide.  She tried to stand but her injured ankles betrayed her.  Johnny was there before she hit the ground.  She fell into his arms.  She held on.  He had rescued her.  She had almost died twice in one day.  Driven by a harried passion she started to kiss his neck, hot tears streaming down her face.  He was tall enough that she would have trouble reaching his lips if he did not bend his head down.  He paused, he seemed confused.  Gently he pushed her back from him, but her footing was not stable.  Cursing softly he picked her up in one swoop, now cradled in his arms she could smell him.  The rain in his uniform and the scent of his skin, he smelled so good.  He moved her over to the one chair that had not been upended in the earlier struggle, sitting her down lightly onto it.

“Why did you stop me, I am so grateful to you.  You kept that man from violating me, you saved my life, he would have killed me when he was done.”

“You’re bleeding; we need to tend to your wounds.  Do you have anything to bind them: gauze, ointments, ace bandages?”  She looked down at her wrists for the first time since the Captain released her, blood was slowly making its way down to her elbows.  She also saw lines of red through the fabric of her skirt from the scratches made earlier.

“My bag, I dropped it somewhere by the door.  It has all my medical supplies; I was traveling with the American 285th Field Artillery Observation Battalion we were on our way to Ligneuville.  We were ambushed at a crossroads by a force of Germans, there were so many!  I can’t believe I made it out of there alive!  I don’t know how many of our people survived, Eddie – the man you saved me from, just took control of the jeep and drove like a son-of-a-bitch.  We ran out of gas a few miles back, we made it the rest of the way on foot.”

His large hands moved deftly as he started to clean and bandage Michelle’s wrists.  He seemed too quiet as she told her story; and avoided looking at her face.  He just kept working on her injuries.  She was impressed, wondering if he had had any medical training.  Once her wrists were done he moved back, looking at her legs.
“I’ll need to clean those scratches on your legs; I don’t think we want that dirty man’s hands giving you an infection.”  She nodded her head yes, Johnny slowly and carefully moved her skirt up her thighs.  The skin of his hands warmed her legs as he started to work, but the alcohol stung and she jerked her leg away.  “Don’t flinch, ma’am, it will just make it worse.”  After he cleaned the scratches on both her thighs he wrapped them with ace bandages then moved down to work on her ankles.  The medical bag had just enough ace bandaged to finish both ankles.  She reached out to touch his arm in thanks; the sleeve of his uniform was soaking wet.  Despite the warmth of the fire a chill had already started to come over Michelle, she could only imagine how cold Johnny must feel.

“Could you look around the cabin for a linen closet or something, we are going to need some blankets so we can get out of these wet cloths.” The expression on his face started off as one of protest, but she quickly retaliated with her finest ‘mother knows best’ looks.  His quickness to comply might also have had something to do with how cold he was.  The large pile of firewood was good and dry; she reached over and added two more logs to the hearth.  She knew they needed to get warm in a hurry.  She had a sudden pang of concern for Debbie.  She had just bolted out the door in this storm, looking like she could run the whole way back to base.  Michelle said a small prayer that she did make it.

Johnny returned minutes later with a large bundle of bedding and sheets.  Not having far to go with her clothes, she simply shrugged out of her jacket and shirt, she laughed out loud as Johnny gave an immediately about-face to give her privacy.

“Please spread one or two of the blankets on the floor in front of the fireplace, we will be warmest sleeping there.  She gave a sigh of regret as she saw him move her ruined pair of nylons out of the way.  While his back was still turned, she scooted out of her skirt, letting it fall to the floor.  Wrapping the bedding around herself in a toga like fashion, she slowly stood up, testing her newly wrapped ankles.  They held, but she would be in no state to march any time soon.  She made a place for herself in front of the fire, with her wet clothes now off and her wounds bandaged she felt so much better.  Grabbing the small pack of food rations from deep in her bag she began dividing it in two.  She looked up to see her rescuer kneeling on the ground beside the blankets, still fully dressed, and trying to hide his shivers.

“You need to get out of your uniform as well Captain Peterson.”  Before he could protest she reached out and started with the buttons on his high collar.  She expected him to protest but he only flinched once then let her to it.  The buttons were so tight she wondered how he managed them himself, taking so much of her focus that she missed the intensity on his face as he watched her undo his coat.  She finished with the last one moving on to the top button on his pants when he grabbed her wrists, firmly, but not to reinjure her.  It was her turn to watch him finish undressing, but unlike him she did not turn around, she kept eye contact as he abandoned first his coat, shirt and then undershirt making a small pile of wet clothing.  His newly exposed chest was the first thing to break her eye contact.  The strength of his shoulders and chest had only been hinted at all covered up by his uniform; she now had an unobstructed view.  Something she had not expected kept her attention as strongly as all his muscles.  On his smooth chest, over his heart, was a tattoo, a yellow rose in full bloom.  She extended a bold hand to touch the tattoo with her finger tips, tracing the delicate petals.

“What’s it for?”

“The Yellow Rose of Texas, to remind me of home.  When the German solders ask about it, I just tell them my girl’s name is Rose and they believe me.”  He put his hand atop hers, pressing it to his heart.  His hand was still cold as ice.  She made a second move to undo the button of his pants; he did not stop her this time.  She wished to linger as she slipped the waistband of his uniform lower, exposing his strong backside, but she knew two things – he really did need out of those pants to warm up and secondly, she did not want to role around on dry sheets with a man in wet pants.
The slacks bunched around his knees, the size of him helped her find her modesty, she turned her head and shoulders away from him as he stood briefly to finish taking his uniform off, even his boots.  When he rejoined her in front of the fire they looked like two Roman citizens having a picnic diner.  They ate in relative silence until Michelle thought of a question that should have been asked earlier.

“How did you know to rescue me?”

“I was coming down the same road on a motorcycle, passing the jeep you talked about on my way.  My gasoline ran out just like yours but only about half a mile back or so.  I was walking my bike and came across this house just like your group.  I was ten feet from the house when I heard your scream.  Years of war and I still know nothing more frightening that the frenzied scream of a woman in trouble.  Without thinking about my undercover status, without thinking about what I might run into, I threw my bike down right there on the side of the road and ran to the door.  You say I made it in time, I just wish I had made it before he had any chance to harm you.”  The strong soldier started to hang his head; she placed her hand on his cheek slowly moving him to face her.

“You are my rescuer. You risk your life daily to get information on our enemy, and you are a hero, my hero.”

She leaned in to finish what she had started earlier.  The kiss was full and furious.  He pulled her into his arms bringing her leg over to straddle his lap.  Michelle took her time exploring his face with her lips, covering it in kisses from forehead to chin then working her way side to side, nibbling his ears. Johnny was far from idol, using is hands to undo her long braid, freeing her wet hair down her back; sending quick shivers through her skin.  He held her closer, pulling the sheet up over her solders for added warmth, his hands still exploring her smooth skin.

She moved from his ears down to his neck.  Johnny gave a small groan of encouragement from deep in his throat.  His hands eased their way down her spine to linger at the shallow of her back, fingers teasing the top of her backside.  In response, Michelle smoothed her palms down his muscular chest, fingers flicking at his nipples.  She bit his neck hard causing his hands to grip her ass reflexively.  It was her turn to groan.  She started to move her hips in a rhythmic motion, the blankets muffling their mutual stimulation, but they could not fully mask the feel of his undeniable need.
His hands worked feverishly at the clasps of her lace bra, she was now glad to have chosen her sexy, non-regulation undergarments.  With the last clasp he freed her from bondage a second time.  The cold air of the cabin chilled her visibly.  Johnny did his best to warm her soft, rosy-pink skin, using hands, mouth and his hot breath.  The soft mewing sounds from her lips drove him on in an ever increasing rhythm, moving his mouth to the beat of her sighs.  She started to feel a powerful and pleasurable pain radiating from her core.  The heat of it threatened to drive her mad, to strip her of all rational thought.

Her world started to move, he tipped her onto the floor, the soft beading brushing against her back.  He cradled her head from any hard impact, then straitened, kneeling down at her feet.  She wrapped the blanket around her, shielding herself from his eyes.  The hot fire cracked softly as they sat looking into each other.  He bent down and kissed the inside of her knee; once, twice, steadily moving down her thigh, stopping when he reached the edge of the ace bandage keeping eye contact throughout.

“Darf ich dich küssen?”  He laughed at the confused face she gave him.  “May I kiss you?”  Her look of confusion soon turned to passion as he moved his fingers along her center, giving her an unmistakable understanding of how he wanted to kiss her.  He slipped his hands down her legs, freeing them from the blanket, exposing her pink underwear.  He kissed her though the thin material, sending new waves of excitement along her skin.  Her hands flexing, looking for something to cling to, finding the metal ring from the fireplace she held on for dear life.  He tortured her with languished movements of his tongue and fingers, teasing the edges of the fabric to the flesh underneath, the heat from the fire now dimming in comparison.  Michelle needed more.

“Stop my torment Johnny, finish me.” 

The teasing movements only increased, keeping her a hostage to passion.  The panties came off next, the fierceness of it made Michelle wonder if she would be short one pair of underwear when these hostilities ended.  Her thoughts did not have long to linger on the loss of yet another of her undergarments, Johnny was very distracting.  It had been a long time for Michelle; she had never known this level of passion even then.  Her decent over the edge of ecstasy took her body and mind.  She blacked out.

***
A cool breeze on her feet woke Michelle some time later.  Judging by how the fire had burned down she had been asleep for over an hour.  She looked to see Johnny with his back to her on the other edge of the blankets snoring quietly.  She moved around the room, keeping her toga of bedding wrapped around her.  She turned over there uniforms so the opposite sides could dry out.  Her dress shirt was almost dry, so she found all but one of her buttons and, after building the fire back up, started to sew them back on with the small sewing kit from her bag.

She felt embarrassed; she had lost consciousness during a moment of pleasure.  This had never happened to her before, she had herd of it happening, but never believed she would reach that level of climax.  She sewed on for several minutes in contemplative silence.  She was working on the last button when the snoring stopped.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep on you.  I’ve never done that before.”  She said.

“You didn’t fall asleep, you passed out.  I thought I killed you, but then you let out this monstrous snore!”  The heat of her blush rivaled the fire, he was laughing at her.  “I hope you slept well, for what small time you did sleep.  It is hard to sleep in front of an open fire, always having to tend it every so often.  Thank you for building it back up.”

“Johnny?  Where you part of that German force that attacked my group?  You didn’t say where you had come from earlier, just that you were traveling the same road.  Did you see what happened after my jeep escaped?”  He did not answerer immediate, he was choosing his words.  She wondered if what she asked would be classified, if he would even be able to tell her.

“I was there.  I had been riding in the back of the column.  By the time I arrived at the crossroads the skirmish was over.”

“How many prisoners did they take, how many were able to get away like I did?”

“They took no prisoners.”

“They didn’t just let them all go, there would have been prisoners.”  She said.

“No, they didn’t let them go.”  The finality of these words took some time to fully reach Michelle’s understanding.

“Everyone?  There were over one hundred of us in that convoy.”

“Then some escaped, but there were still dozens of bodies littering the ground, so much blood, it melted the snow.  I couldn’t do anything.  I was too late.  I don’t know what I could have done anyway.  One of the things I needed to report to my American superiors, there is an order passed down from the German leadership to ‘give no quarter’.  The Kampfgruppe Peiper is to reach and capture the Meuse bridges as fast as possible, letting nothing bar the way.  The German troops have needed to capture gasoline.  We were not given enough for the mission, but they just got there hands on some 50,000 gallons.  The American forces need to know all this.  So I took one of the motorcycles from the captured American vehicles and left on the pretense that I would seek out high ranking Allied solders that might have escaped.”  With his back turned she could not see the tears of defeat staining his face, but she could hear them in his voice.

“I’ve failed.”

“You didn’t fail, how could you have know this would happen.  We are in a time of war, death is part of it.”  She tried to reach out and touch his arm, but he flinched away, curling in on himself.

“You don’t understand.  My undercover assignment was set up to prevent things like this from happening.”

“You’re not a failure, you rescued me, you saved my life and body.”  He did not flinch this time as she smoothed her hand back and forth over his shoulder.

“I was going to desert before I came across this cabin, before I heard you scream.  I was going to give my last report and then disappear.”  He turned his head just enough to make eye contact with Michelle.  “I’m glad you and the other woman made it out before the massacre happened, I didn’t see any women among the dead.  I don’t know if I would have even waited to give my report before I left if I had.  I would have lost my self.”  He turned away from her again to stare at the empty side of the room.

Michelle moved toward Johnny, lying down beside him, spooning her body along his.  She draped her left arm around his waist, holding him close.  She started to hum an indistinct lullaby.  They stayed this way for some time, his body gradually relaxing.  Just when she thought he was sleeping soundly, he turned over.  She had one moment to see the ferocity on his face before he begun.

His hands were everywhere and his lips following them.  She barely had time to breathe, let alone think.  No, she did not have time to think.  It was like the last two hours had not yet passed, they were back where they started.  Michelle soon caught up with the captain, taking his lead, both now on their knees facing each other in front of the fire, arms around one another, lips drinking deeply.  Johnny moved again, putting Michelle back on his lap.  But unlike the first time, there was no buffer between them, no muffling fabric to separate them.  Michelle let out a short unexpected scream, it had been a long time and Johnny had not been gentle.  Before he could apologies or move away she took the lead, pushing his shoulders to the ground, moving in a tempo of her choosing.  He closed his eyes, keeping her hips steady with his strong hands.  A lifetime seemed to pass as they danced but he soon tried to buck her off as he came closer to his climax.  But being on top gave her leverage.  She would not stop early again.  She grabbed his wrists keeping them locked at his sides.  She knew this was only an illusion; he was far too strong and could tip her off of him at any time.

“What about the chance of a child?  I wouldn’t want to do that if I couldn’t be there for you, to help you.”  Michelle, kept her rhythm, she would not be swayed.

“If we bare a child, I will tell him his father saved my life and granted me a new one to love and watch over forever.”  She bent down to put her lips by his ear to wispier. 

“Johnny, fill me, please, I want all of you.”

He joined in on her pace, the two moving to the beat of the crackling fire.  Johnny rose back into the sitting position putting his arms around Michelle, running his hands down her hair.  Their breath came in pants, driven by the steady momentum.  No longer kissing, they needed all the air they could get.  Breathing, Breathing.  There hips bumping harder, building speed.

She could feel her self falling apart.  He held on tighter to her, sending her further in to paradise.  She started to moan, each one louder than the last.  He only grunted once, then shouted loudly in German.

“Verdammt!”

The floor was littered with arms and legs and bedding, a pile of parts that use to be two coherent people.  It was moments before sanity returned to the little cabin, and several more minuets before either could move.  Once they could the two rearranged everything in silence, preparing for sleep.  Their uniforms would be dry by morning; the fire was built up enough to last till then.  They faced each other as they laid down to rest.  Michelle broke the silence only once.

“Thank you, Johnny.” 

She fell asleep first; he waited longer, taking the time to memorize this moment, and her beautiful face.  There was a small bruise forming beside her eye.  Johnny wished he could kill that bastard for her all over again. 

***
The light woke Michelle but she did not move.  She was warm and comfortable, trying to hold on to the last of her dreams, but the sound of boot steps brought her eyes open and her ears alert.  Johnny was smiling at her; fully dressed down to his very last button.  She knew why she was so comfortable, he had wrapped her in his beading, at what point in the night or morning she did not know, but she was grateful.

“How long have you been awake?”  She asked.

“Just long enough to get dressed and find that there is no food in this house; I was just about to go find some before you came too.”

“Why are you smiling so much?”

“I was just realizing why the Roman Empire lasted so long.  If I could see my woman in a toga every day I wouldn’t want things to change either.  You look very sexy in bead sheets.  You should start a trend when you get back to the states.”  He was laughing out loud now.  She thought about being coy, and then thought better of it.  Standing she sauntered around the room gathering all her clothing, giving her hips extra swing as she moved.  She even found her last button in the far corner.  He was still laughing when she herd the sound of boots again, this time outside, on the road.  The two froze.  The door opened, Michelle moved in front of the captain, shielding him.  The new men were in American uniforms, each holding a rifle aimed at the two in the center of the room.  The silent stand off was broken by a shout from outside.

“God damn it, its Eddie.  That SS bastard shot Eddie.”

The men moved, but Michelle had already pushed Johnny down.  Shots fired.
Michelle was on the ground, there was burning in her shoulder, an almost blinding pain.  She could hear Johnny shouting, so angry – this frightened her more than the suffering.  His face soon came into view, he must have been holding her but she could hardly discern this past the agony of her wounds.  She knew he was speaking soothing words to her.  She had to tell him something, before the pain took over.  He had to know.

“Johnny?”  She just barley herd him answer yes.  Her ears were not working properly, there was an overwhelming buzz.  “Johnny, my… my middle name is Rose.”  She blacked out in his arms for the second time.

***
Michelle woke to the hum of strange busy voices and the sounds of people moving all around her.  Debbie’s voice gave her a place to focus.

“You’re awake.”  She could feel Debbie checking things on her, bandages and wrappings, making a noise of accent when she was done.  “You had a crazy night.  I don’t know if I’m glad I ran or not.  I won’t let myself forget that I just left you there.  That will haunt me till the day I die.  Please forgive me for leaving you out there.”  Michelle knew Debbie must have been by her bedside since the moment she arrived for medical treatment.  She gave a small nod yes.  Debbie smiled, her shoulders relaxing, she was about to start rambling again before Michelle stopped her.

“What…”  She started, Debbie was there with some water so she could finish.  “What happened?  Is Johnny alright?  They didn’t hurt him did they, he saved my life.”

“Captain Peterson is just fine.  He pulled rank the moment you hit the ground.  There are about five army privates that will be on KP duty for the rest of the war, and two are in the brig on charges.  Did you know you were shot three times!  The Captain told me what happened out there.  He shouldn’t get in trouble for shooting Eddie, not after I gave my say, and now you are awake you can tell your side of the story too.”  Michelle let Debbie’s unending voice wash over her, Johnny was safe.  She turned her head slowly to right; there on the night stand, was a yellow rose.  She tried to reach for it but her arm was all taped and bound.  Again Debbie knew what she wanted, grabbing the flower for her.  Michelle wondered how he had found roses in the middle of a war torn December.  With her free hand she held it closer, the rose was paper.  Expertly crafted, so life like, she thought she could smell its fragrance.
         
“He made that for you, he wouldn’t leave your side.  They had to threaten him with court-martial to go back to his undercover assignment.  They said he had been away from his German unit too long already.”
         
“So he’s gone.”
         
“He left less than an hour ago.  I’m sorry he didn’t leave a message for you.”  Debbie was called away by a doctor further down the ward. 
         
Michelle held the yellow rose over her heart, letting the imaginary sent fill her nose, humming herself to sleep
         
“And the yellow rose of Texas shall be mine for evermore.” 

Epilogue

There was a polite knock at the door.  When Michelle looked out her peep hole, all she could see were flowers - yellow roses.  She the tried to undo the locks on her door as fast as humanly possible, and fumbled with the chain twice before she succeeded in opening the door.  It was him, with his blond hair, the same blue eyes, and those shoulders!  He had her up and in his arms before she could say welcome home.  He spun her around, slinging her slippers off.  When he finally did put her down, she was out of breath and a little dizzy. 
         
“I didn’t know if you were alive, dead or captured.  After we parted, they wouldn’t tell me anything.  The knowledge was all classified.”  Michelle said.  Using the flowers as an excuse to turn around, she hid her embarrassment to be caught in her bathrobe.  He stepped up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. 
         
“It’s so good to see you again.  You look so beautiful in the morning light.”  He kissed her cheek; she turned in his arms to face him.  She noticed the top two buttons of his lightweight cotton shirt were unbuttoned just showing the edge of his tattoo.  It looked different somehow.  She moved the fabric further out of the way so to see it all.  He had added a tiny rose bud to the flower stem. 
         
“So you know?”  She asked him.
         
“Know what?”  At this moment, a baby gave a tiny cry from the kitchen.  Johnny left her arms and moved further into the house, toward the noise. 
         
“I had wondered, and even hoped for it to happen.  Is it a boy or girl?”  Johnny moved over to the rather small child, his huge hand lightly brushing the wisps of blond hair from the infants face. 
         
“Boy.  He has your eyes, and his name is Johnny junior.” 
         
The tiny child laughed sweetly as Johnny fed it a spoonful of mushy baby food.  The bright sunny kitchen was happy and warm.  The war was over, her child was healthy, her man had made it through and come back whole.  Michelle could not ask for more.  Johnny kissed her sweetly.  It was the first of many in their new life together.