Shadowed by Grace (10 page)

“Wish I could, but I ship out tomorrow.” She grasped Momma’s necklace as she tried to remain calm. “Can’t keep the officers waiting.”

“I’ll get you home . . . eventually.” He took another step toward her, and her back rammed against the shelves.

Bile rose in her throat, and she felt along the shelves for anything she could use as a weapon. All she felt was fabric. Piles and piles of soft, nonthreatening fabric.

“What do you say?” The brute shoved against her until his frame lined up with hers. She bit down on her lip to keep from whimpering. Where was everyone?

“Bates? Where’d you go?”

Rachel opened her mouth, but the soldier pressed his sweaty hand over her mouth. “Shh, little lady.”

“Did you find the boots?” The voice sounded nearer, but the warehouse was so big.

A shudder coursed through Rachel. She needed to get away, but with her arms pinned to her sides, she stood trapped. She clamped her teeth on his hand.

“You—” The man’s shrill word cut the air.

A soldier hurried around the corner. “There you are.” Then he skidded to a stop. “What are you doing?”

Bates growled and stepped back. “Just talking.”

The soldier raised an eyebrow, the one movement communicating disbelief and censure. “I think you should check over there for boots.” He crossed his arms and waited.

“Fine.” A storm gathered on Bates’s face. “You shouldn’t have interfered.”

“Sure, tough guy.” The soldier waited until Bates left. He might be beefier than the one who’d assaulted Rachel, but kindness cloaked him. “Sorry, ma’am. I’ll keep him away, but you might want to make your business fast.”

Rachel watched until he disappeared and she was alone again, then she scrambled through several piles, determined to find something serviceable before the next wave of soldiers arrived. That escape had been too close.

With two pairs of longish pants in hand, she raced back to find the helpful private. She held the pants and a belt to him. “These will do.”

He eyed them with a frown. “You sure, Captain?”

“Unless you have other suggestions.”

He shrugged. “I found some boots and rain gear for you.” He filled out a couple forms, then slid them toward her. “Sign here and here.” He pointed with a pen. “Then you can call those your own. Do you need needle and thread?”

“I’ve got some, thanks.”

She curved her way through the streets back to the hotel in the waning daylight. It was almost dusk when she reached the building’s protective embrace. Dottie paced a tiny circle in the lobby. She raced to Rachel.

“Where have you been?”

Rachel held up the pants. “Trying to find anything that comes halfway close to fitting me.”

“How’d that work?”

“Not too well.”

“The army ain’t Macy’s.”

Rachel smiled at the comparison to the great department store. The warehouse at the wharf didn’t compare. “Good thing I’m not picky.”

Dottie tugged her up the stairs to their room. “Barbara and I are taking you out tonight. Who knows when we’ll see you again.” The girl’s eyes clouded as she took the reams of fabric from Rachel and threw them on one of the twin beds. “So we’re going to make merry and have fun while we can.”

“All right.”

“Really?” Dottie blinked as if she didn’t believe the ease with which Rachel had agreed.

“Really. I’d like that. . . .”

“Then get ready. Here’s a party dress.”

“Where did you find that?”

“A girl has her ways, and the blue will be beautiful on you. We leave in five. I’ll let Babs know.”

Rachel stared at the dress. It was elegant with a full tea-length skirt. How Dottie got it to Naples, she couldn’t imagine, but Rachel couldn’t wait to try it on and feel the caress of the fabric. When would she have the opportunity to experience feminine companionship and silk? It could be a long time, so she determined to enjoy tonight.

Scott straightened his tie and garrison cap as he looked in the mirror.

“Come on, Lindstrom. The officers’ club will fill by the time we get you away from here.” Blake Erikson crossed his arms as Scott stared in the mirror. The man was an addition to the Monuments team, recently arrived from Alabama. Scott liked him, . . . but that didn’t stop him from slowing down his actions. Blake frowned but couldn’t hold it. “All right, you look good, man.”

Scott grinned. He didn’t often join the others when they went out, but tonight he wanted to forget the devastation. Instead, he’d sit back and enjoy the USO show. Pretend he was in Philadelphia. “Let’s go.”

“My turn to join the best-dressed club.” Blake slicked down his dark hair with a swipe of his hand and then turned. “There, all set. The others are downstairs.”

In a few minutes the group of soldiers joined the others pouring out of the barracks and toward the different rest areas the army had established.

After waiting in line awhile, they entered the officers’ club. A festive air filled the building with a band playing swing tunes. Most of the men headed to one of the bars while Scott decided to find a place to sit. Blake joined him a bit later with two Cokes. “Thanks.”

“No problem. I figure you’ll earn it showing me the ropes.”

Scott rubbed his jaw and sighed. “There isn’t much to show.”

“Nah. I’ve watched. You’ve got a can-do attitude I need.” Blake took a swig from the glass bottle, then wiped his mouth. “This isn’t Oxford.”

“You can say that.” The band switched from a Dorsey tune to something he’d heard Bing Crosby sing on Armed Forces Radio.

The man studied the room, then turned back to Scott. “It may not be Oxford, but I’ve always wanted to see Italy. Now I get my chance. Looky there.” Blake tipped his bottle toward a table across the way. “You see what I see?”

Scott looked around, taking in the large room filled with well-dressed officers. There were a few women, some in uniform, some in dresses. They looked like hummingbirds flitting around the room, surrounded by men or dancing on the floor. “You’ll have to narrow it down a bit.”

“Over there. By that fake palm.” Blake gestured. “I see a couple fine-looking women.”

Scott laughed because most of the soldiers described every woman that way, even the half-starved Neapolitans. He’d heard terrible stories of some soldiers paying them with Monopoly money and kept his distance. “I’m not interested.”

“Sure.” Blake grinned and tapped his half-empty bottle against Scott’s. “I’ll get another bottle while you’re not interested.”

Erikson wormed his way through the crowds, and Scott monitored his progress. Despite his claims, he was curious about the women who had captured the man’s attention. A small pixie of a woman leaned against the wall, a bright smile on her face as she listened to the band play Benny Goodman’s “Sing, Sing, Sing.” A tall Amazon stood next to her, long legs highlighted by the skirt she wore. A third member of the group disappeared in the fake fronds.

Blake approached the group and talked to the gals for a few minutes, his attention focused on the tall gal. She almost matched him inch for inch, not an easy task since Blake was a bear of a man. But the pixie nodded too. In no time Blake had them following him across the floor. “Scott, let me introduce Babs, Dottie, and . . .”

“Lieutenant Lindstrom.” Rachel’s voice taunted his ears through the band and background conversations.

“Captain Justice.” He stood straighter and felt the room telescope around her.

Blake helped the women into chairs. “Can I get y’all something to drink?”

After accepting orders, he moved to a bar, leaving Scott with the ladies. The other soldiers’ glares burned Scott’s back. Here he sat with an abundance of women when he wanted to focus on one.

The gal named Dottie chatted with Rachel while Babs waited for Blake’s return. A couple soldiers drifted past their table with loud voices and pointed looks, but Rachel ignored them while Dottie smiled and shook her head. “I’m quite fine, thank you.”

Rachel shook her head as she watched her friend. “You dragged me out here so you could smile and say no?”

“Well, I came to spend time with you.” Dottie grinned. “Besides, the right one hasn’t walked by.”

Scott couldn’t help himself. “You mean I’m not him?”

Dottie froze, then gave him an apologetic frown. “Why, no. You certainly aren’t. My momma told me I would know the moment I laid eyes on my true love. I must not have met him yet.”

“Dottie, you are one of a kind.” Babs rolled her eyes and then smiled when Blake returned with a Coke. “I thought you might bring something stronger, soldier.”

“Not this one, ma’am.” Something in the way he said it seemed to charm the girl.

The military band took off with “In the Mood,” and Rachel swayed in her seat.

“Would you like to dance?” Scott stood and offered her his hand.

Her chocolate doe eyes considered him, then she slipped her hand in his. As she did, he stood straighter with the knowledge the most beautiful woman in the room had chosen him. Even if for one moment.

Chapter 10

THIS WAS A MISTAKE.

The thought raced through her mind as Rachel accepted Scott’s offered hand.

As he adjusted her hold and tightened his fingers around hers, she could feel it to the depths of her toes. This man was a mystery. Yes, they’d spent moments together, but she didn’t know him. Not really. Yet as she’d watched him with the priest, seen him with the various children they’d come across, his heart peeked out. She saw a passion for protecting what he valued. What would it be like to be the object of that attention? Did he worry anyone who caught a glimpse of the real man, the one who cared deeply, would walk away?

This was a mistake.

If he probed, she wasn’t sure she could keep her heart hidden from him. His gaze seemed to penetrate to her heart, and if he could see through her, it would be simple for him to penetrate her walls. She couldn’t afford to let a man distract her from her twofold purpose in coming to Italy.

A distraction would cost her precious time. Time she didn’t have to save her mom.

Her thoughts flitted to the way a man had woven Italy into a magical land that led to heartbreak. She couldn’t let that happen. Not to her.

Rachel fought the sudden desire to yank her hand from Scott’s grip before he had her on the dance floor. Before he could encircle her in his arms and she relaxed into his embrace.

One thing she knew to her core: Scott Lindstrom, enigma extraordinaire, could demolish her reasons in a heartbeat.

“I can’t do this.” The words whispered from her mouth.

Scott hesitated a moment in the path to the center of the hall. He cocked his head toward her. “I’m sorry?”

Dottie waved her fingers at Rachel over a soldier’s shoulder as he whirled her around the floor. She looked so relaxed, so contained with a hint of joy that Rachel longed for a breath of that. One dance. One moment of forgetting she was in bombed-out Naples. She could close her eyes and imagine instead she was here during the same time as her momma. The 1920s. A carefree time when the world couldn’t imagine a war as all encompassing and devastating as the one crossing the globe.

“Do you need something to drink? Water? Punch?” The concern in Scott’s voice led Rachel to shake her head.

“One dance.”

He smiled, slow and confident. “That’s all it takes.”

She tucked her head against his shoulder, unsure how to take his words. Maybe for a few moments she’d forget everything. Instead of wondering or worrying, she’d imagine what her momma had felt the first time she’d danced with her father. Maybe she’d begin to understand the love and passion that convinced her momma to live her life alone since Italy.

That’s all it takes?
Scott wanted to stop the dance, march out of the officers’ club, and straight to the nearest bucket of water. Maybe if he dumped it over his head, he’d regain his senses.

What was it about this petite, brown-eyed woman that turned him into an absolute idiot?

It had to qualify as a miracle that she’d accepted his request for a dance. The band started up with a rendition of “A String of Pearls.” Not swinging music; neither was it a hold-the-girl-close-and-snuggle-up-for-three-minutes tune. Perfect for their current relationship. Who was he kidding? Were they even friends? He shouldn’t count on spending any more moments with Miss Justice. He enjoyed the pockets of normalcy he imagined with her. He could forget they were here. Maybe they’d run into each other at a dance in Philadelphia.