Shadowed by Grace (17 page)

Tyler strummed on the steering wheel as he wove along the streets of Rome. Scott looked around, trying to enjoy his last day in the city. Now that he’d received full authorization to follow the Fifth Army, he would move out.

“Where’d you say we were picking up our passenger?”

Scott glanced at his companion. “At the Albergo Città. Turn right at the next intersection.”

“Do you mean one of the circles?”

Scott laughed. “They really mess you up.”

“How am I supposed to know where to get off or which lane to be in? Give me good ole right angles any day.”

“Take a right at your next right angle.”

Tyler threw him a limp salute, then maneuvered through the traffic circle. Maybe he’d get the hang of ’em before he returned to the States. Just so long as he didn’t kill Scott in one. A horn blared, and a driver waved out the window of a truck in excited Italian. Tyler wrenched the wheel to the right and skirted another vehicle.

“Sure you’ve got a license?”

“Har har.” The man’s face looked tense as he worked his way onto a straight road. “Whose crazy idea was it to do that, anyway?”

“It had more to do with the landmarks in the way.”

Tyler mumbled under his breath, then turned the vehicle and soon pulled up in front of the hotel. “Want me to get whoever’s traveling with us?”

“No, you stay with the jeep.” Scott hopped out and pushed into the lobby. Maybe he’d catch Rachel before she left. A man could hope, especially when the way she filled his arms made him long for one more hug, no matter how quick.

He glanced around but didn’t see anyone who looked ready to leave. There was no one to ask either. Guess he’d wander until he found someone in charge.

“I can do this.” At the soft words he turned the direction of the speaker. Rachel? Her shoulders were back, but her eyes held an uncertainty highlighted by the tightness in her face. A faint color raced up her neck into her cheeks.

She touched her neck. “Scott. Are you my ride?” She leaned forward a bit as if hoping he’d say yes.

“Depends on where you’re going.”

“My editor told me to find my ride.”

What were the odds? Astronomical he was sure, but he wouldn’t turn down time with the charming lady. Except this meant taking her close to the front, since he’d trail the fighting men.

Maybe he could stall. Use that as a way to talk whoever had the brilliant idea of attaching a woman to the Fifth out of his harebrained idea. He ran a hand along his neck trying to ease the tightness. “Is your editor upstairs?”

“Yes, Dick Forsythe. With UP. You’ll find him on the second floor.” She shook her head and seemed to gather herself. “I’ll take you to him.” Rachel led him into a large room, one that must have served as a ballroom in different times. The floors were carpeted over elegant hard wood, a dark color like mahogany. On the walls tapestries still hung. He’d love the time to examine them and place when they were crafted. A quick look made him think mid-fourteenth century.

“He’s grabbed a corner for his office.”

The room buzzed with activity. That of a couple dozen people with no room trying to work around one another. What looked like a tent stood in a corner of the room. “Is that it?”

She glanced where he pointed and laughed. “No. That’s a portable developing lab. Normally, we’d find a room we can black out. In a couple days that will be set up. The tent is a stopgap. It allows us to develop film without shipping it somewhere else first. Then the editors decide if there’s anything to radiophotograph rather than relay it via plane back to the States.”

“Where’s Forsythe?”

“Headed our direction.”

“Why are you still here, kid?” A large man approached them. His shirt was no longer white, and his pants looked rumpled enough that he had to have slept in them. His words were gruff, but Scott sensed something more in the man. He looked like a school principal who had dozens of students who bordered on unruly, each headed a different direction, all involving danger, and he was the only one who could keep track of them. Scott didn’t envy him the task. “And who’s the soldier?”

Rachel smiled at the editor. “Sir, this is Lieutenant Scott Lindstrom. He’s assigned to the monuments and fine arts section. He’s looking for a reporter who’s supposed to join him.”

“You didn’t think it was you?” He held out a beefy hand. “Lieutenant.”

“Mr. Forsythe.”

“Okay. I sent you to find your ride.”

Rachel nodded.

“He’s here looking for a journalist?”

Scott nodded.

“Then what’s the problem? You ride with him, and you both have what you need. You get your ride north; he gets his journalist. Right?”

The guy made it sound so matter-of-fact, he almost had Scott going along. “I need her orders.” He placed his hands in front of him, trying to placate the storm starting to build on the editor’s features. “I was asked to obtain them. My boss’s orders.”

The editor mumbled under his breath as he turned back into his office. “You want me to find paper in here?” The office sported an explosion of papers, one that showed the man had serious need of someone to organize his life. Still, it wasn’t Scott’s fault the man lacked structure.

“Yes.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I have them.” The man pulled an envelope off the top of his desk. “Lieutenant, Rachel Justice is my employee and my responsibility. While I wouldn’t want my daughter headed into the fray, the military and my boss in the States have conspired to send her there. This is what happens when you have a photog who captures the heart of a scene. Therefore, I have no choice but to send her with you.” He stepped closer to Scott, and Scott refused to back away. “However, if anything—and I mean anything—happens to her, I will find you. And I will let you know how displeased I am. Are we clear?”

During his speech, Rachel’s face drained of color, and then she started biting back a smile. She was enjoying this dressing down.

“I understand.”

“Then we won’t have any trouble.” The man dismissed them with a nod.

Scott shook his head as they left the editor’s space. “What was that all about?”

Rachel choked back a laugh, then snorted. She covered her mouth with a hand. “I guess he has a heart.”

“I’d call it attitude.”

“Whatever you call it, let’s get out of here.” She glanced around the room, then back at him. “We’re garnering an audience.”

“First, I have to read these.” He pulled the paper from the envelope and saw her name on them. Farther down he found his. All right. So she was his responsibility. A wave of pride and excitement flushed over him. He’d manage it. Somehow he’d separate his growing awareness of her and the hold she’d asserted over his heart from his assignment.

What other choice did he have? He had orders, and he needed to get north as fast as he could and find the Florence art superintendent and the Uffizi’s art. With its rich history since the days of the Medicis, untold masters would disappear if anything happened to the Uffizi’s collections.

As her shoulder brushed his, he knew he’d enjoy the trip with her beside him. He also knew she’d be a distraction whether or not she intended.

If only he could leave the beautiful brunette behind before something happened to her. Something he couldn’t control.

Chapter 16

NOSTRILS FLARED, HEAT ROLLED
off Lieutenant Lindstrom as he led her to the hallway, down the stairs, and out the front door. Rachel wanted to make him understand this wasn’t her idea though she didn’t mind. Actually, she’d rather travel with him than a stranger. Even though he’d gotten her stranded overnight in a farmhouse with an Italian couple that didn’t speak a word of English, he’d returned her safely to Naples.

His silence raised a wall between them, one she wasn’t sure she could penetrate even as she longed to know his thoughts.

Was he worried about her? Or annoyed by her presence?

After last night she’d hoped something might develop between them . . . something the war couldn’t destroy . . . something unlike anything she’d ever felt.

He paused in front of a jeep, this one in slightly better condition than the heap they journeyed in before. The driver snapped to attention and whistled when he saw her. “She’s our passenger?”

Rachel rolled her eyes at the high school infatuation that flashed across the driver’s face. The annoyance on Scott’s face had her biting back a laugh.

“Captain Justice, meet Private Tyler Salmon. Private, you will treat her with respect. We have the privilege of transporting her north.” The privilege? Her heart liked the sound of that word and the way he said it. Scott stared at the private until she felt the challenge. Private Salmon must have too because he settled against the seat, creating more distance.

“I read you, Lieutenant.” He looked at her. “Where’s your stuff? Don’t women travel with trunks?”

“I didn’t realize I was shipping out immediately. We’ll have to stop at my hotel first.”

“This’ll be interesting.” Salmon shook his head and turned to Scott. “Which way,
sir
?” His emphasis of the last word painted it with sarcasm.

Scott ignored the man as he helped her into the narrow space in the backseat. She stilled at the effect that simple touch had on her. In a moment she was back in his arms at the dance, a memory she couldn’t embrace now.

When they arrived at the hotel, she hopped out before Scott could help her. “I only need a minute.” She’d kept her bag essentially packed since arriving. She could be in and out of the hotel in less time than it took many people to brush their teeth.

“Five minutes.”

She didn’t respond but hurried into the hotel. She pulled her room key from her bag and took the stairs to her floor. Once in her small room, she cleared the dresser surface into her bag then added her jacket and trousers. Zipped the bag, then grabbed both musette bags and bedroll. On her way out of the hotel, she left the key at the front desk, then returned to the jeep.

Scott nodded from his position next to the vehicle. “Four minutes. Impressive.”

“Thank you.”

Scott stored her bags, then offered his hand. She hesitated a moment before accepting the assistance. Once she was settled in the back, he climbed into the passenger seat. “Let’s move.”

Tyler got the vehicle back into traffic. It slipped in between cars like Tyler thought he drove a race car. Rachel held her hat in place and prayed she’d make it wherever they headed in one piece.

Soon the congested roads ended Tyler’s race, and the day became a slow relay. As the day wore on, Rachel settled back feeling the heat of the Italian sun. The kilometers clicked off so slowly she could have walked faster. The hum of artillery sounded in the distance, and Tyler finally pulled off the road.

“Why are we stopping?” She leaned between the two men. “I didn’t come along for a pleasant drive in the country. I need to take photos.”

“Maybe there’s an accident.” This time there was no question that Tyler was way over the line on the sarcasm scale.

“Uncalled for, Salmon.”

The man shrugged and didn’t retract his words.

Scott turned to meet her gaze. “There’s not much we can do other than follow the fighting. As the Fifth advances, we’ll peel off and check towns. Repeat what we did outside Naples. If we’re lucky, we’ll assess churches, villas, and other important buildings. If you can photograph what we find, that helps too. Then we’ll locate the important art housed in each town. If the town was hit hard, we’ll slow down and start repairs. While you take pictures and send them wherever you send them, I’ll communicate with Rome, informing headquarters about each village’s needs.”

“And we’ll sleep and eat?”

“Wherever the headquarters sets up.” Scott pointed to a bag next to hers. “We have a full complement of C rations. We’ll save those for emergencies, but if we need them, we’ll eat them.”

She wrinkled her nose at the thought of eating those day in and day out. “Guess it’s part of the adventure.”

Tyler snorted. “You could say that.”

She liked him less with each moment. “How’d you get stuck with Mr. Sunshine?”

“He comes with transportation, so I keep him around.”

“That beats the alternative?”

“Exactly.” Scott pulled out a folded paper. When he opened it, she saw a map of Rome and the boot north. He pointed at a spot not far from the city. “This is where they anticipated reaching by nightfall.” Scott smoothed out the wrinkles. “We’ll stop at these villages as we get the all clear.”

Rachel studied the map, memorizing the layout and as many road names and town locations as she could. None of them looked familiar from the diary or journal. She turned and scanned the horizon. Broken and shattered German tanks and vehicles lined the road and fields. Bodies lay alongside many, some looking as if the soldier had lain in the shadow of the metal monsters for a nap. Others looked as broken as if a giant had rampaged through the field tossing them from side to side with no regard for the life these bodies had housed. She looked away as bile rose in her throat.

She sat in a field filled with images she should snap and send home. Yet, if she got closer, she might lose what little she’d eaten that day. She swallowed. If she viewed the scene through the camera, would it give her distance? She raised the camera, focused, and snapped shot after shot.