Take Me Home (9781455552078) (23 page)

In the midst of all this, Olivia thought about how meeting Peter Baird had changed her life. Even before he'd pulled her out of the way of Sylvester Eddings's truck, she'd felt something pass between them. But the more she'd gotten to know him, to learn who he really was inside, the more she knew that Peter was the man she'd been destined to be with. Though it had meant hurting her best friend, breaking off their ill-advised engagement, Olivia had done what she had to in order to finally have
this
.

On and on, their bodies kept moving. Olivia moaned, her pleasure growing nearly unbearable, making her feel as if she was on the peak of a wave, hanging in air. But then, suddenly, the wave broke; she barely stifled a shout before spasming with pleasure. Peter reached a crescendo of his own, his fevered movements coming to a halt, his muscles tightening, as he spilled his warm seed inside her. For a moment, neither of them moved as their ragged breathing slowly steadied. Then Peter lowered himself to lie by her side. Olivia placed her hand on his cheek. A smile slowly spread across both their faces. Gently, she kissed him. Neither of them said a word, but they didn't have to.

They both knew that this was love.

Peter stared up at the ceiling as he absently rubbed his thumb across Olivia's bare shoulder; she lay against him, one arm draped across his chest, dozing softly. Though tired, he couldn't sleep. His mind churned as it considered everything that had happened. Making love to Olivia had been even greater than he'd imagined, amazing, like a dream. When she had told him that she loved him, it had freed his heart, had made him give himself over to her completely, in body and mind.

But with that had come a revelation.

When Peter first heard about the end of the war, he'd considered never telling Olivia who he really was, about where he had come from or what had befallen him before they'd first met. He had debated whether Peter Becker shouldn't disappear forever, replaced by Peter Baird, a man who had nothing to hide. But now, in the wake of what they'd just shared, Peter knew he could no longer lie to Olivia. It was time for the truth, even if revealing it cost him everything, including his freedom and the woman he loved.

“Mmmm,” Olivia purred as she woke, pushing away her blond hair to look up at him. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I didn't mean to fall asleep.”

When she leaned up, intending to kiss him, Peter turned away.

“What's wrong?” she asked, confused.

Peter stared at her. So many times now, he'd meant to come clean, to tell Olivia everything, but something always seemed to get in the way: the loss of his nerve, bad timing, or some other interruption, including the end of the war. Even tonight, when they'd first arrived at the apartment and he had wanted to unburden himself, she'd cut him off and he'd allowed her to, giving in to his urges, wanting to make love to her.

But now it was time.

“Olivia…” he began. “From the moment I first saw you, there's something I've wanted to tell you…something that you need to know, but…”

She leaned up on her elbow and smiled at him, encouraging, completely unaware of what was about to be said. “You can tell me anything.”

For what felt like the hundredth time, Peter thought about swallowing the truth forever, but looking into her eyes, seeing the love and trust that gazed back at him, he knew that to continue to lie to her meant the damning of his soul. So he plunged forward, right into the fire.

“My family name isn't Baird. It's Becker. And I'm not an American, not completely. I'm German. I'm an escaped prisoner of war.”

O
LIVIA'S FIRST THOUGHT
was that she had misheard Peter. Her second was that he was telling a joke, though one she didn't find the least bit funny. But the longer she waited, watching his face, expecting there to be some sign, something to give him away, the more she began to realize that he was telling the truth.

“What…what are you saying…?” she stammered.

“I know this is going to be hard for you to hear, but you need to listen,” he answered, his face conflicted, almost pained. “I was born and raised in Germany, but my father was an American, a soldier just like John. He stayed in Europe after the war and soon after met and fell in love with my mother. That's why I speak English the way I do. My father taught me.”

Disbelief and shock began to overwhelm Olivia. Try as she might, she couldn't wrap her head around what Peter was saying. It was incredible, unbelievable. She leaned up, dragging the bedsheet with her, suddenly self-conscious enough to want to cover herself. Slowly, she began to shake her head.

“This isn't possible,” she said.

“I never wanted to be a soldier,” Peter continued; now that he had finally started to talk, the words kept coming. “I hate Hitler and all that he and his Nazis stand for, but I didn't have a choice. After I was conscripted, I could have run away, but my mother would've been the one to suffer. Her health was bad and I was afraid of what could happen to her if I was considered to be a traitor.”

By now, Olivia was on her feet, backing away. Her thoughts reeled. Inch by inch, she moved farther from him, the man she thought she'd known, whom she'd come to love. In her head, she was transported back to the time when the war in Europe had just begun. She saw the newsreels, with the jackbooted soldiers marching across the screen; she'd been terrified. The idea that Peter was one of those men, that it had been
him
who'd entered her dreams, waking her from sleep, was more than she could bear.

“You're…you're the enemy?” Olivia asked.

“No, I'm not,” Peter answered emphatically. “I'm just a man who did what he had to in order to survive. Every day I fought, I prayed for the war to end. When my unit was captured in France, all I felt was relief.”

“If you were caught, then how are you here?”

“It was an accident. I was with hundreds of other prisoners, put on a boat and sent across the ocean, here, to America. But then the train I was riding on had an accident in a storm. It crashed. The man whom I was chained to and I escaped into the woods during the confusion. I shouldn't have followed him, but I did.”

Olivia was conflicted. On the one hand, she wanted to hear what Peter had to say, to try to understand who he was. But another voice screamed at her to run as fast and far away as she could. In the end, she found a compromise; she gathered up her clothes and began to dress as she listened.

“I don't know how far we traveled or even how many days we rode on trains, trying to stay out of sight, but in the end we found ourselves here, in Miller's Creek. Eventually, I got free of my restraints, then scrounged up some clothes and something to eat. When I walked into town, I had every intention of surrendering.”

Olivia paused while buttoning her blouse. “That was why you were asking for my father, wasn't it?”

Peter nodded. “But that changed the moment I met you.”

The more Olivia considered Peter's story, the more it made sense. His admission explained why he hadn't had any clothes or other belongings with him when they'd met. Why he had no money or identification. She thought about how evasive he had been, even when they'd first talked, the vague way he spoke of family back in Pennsylvania. She recalled how when the subject of his military service had been raised, he'd claimed that what he did was a secret; in that, Peter
hadn't
lied.

What made it all so much worse was that she'd been warned. Olivia thought about what Billy had said beneath the evergreen tree. He'd told her that she really knew nothing about Peter, that he could be dangerous, that everything he'd told her could be lies. She'd laughed it off, defending Peter, already starting to fall for his charms. Then there was her mother; Elizabeth had argued much the same thing, that her daughter only knew the side of Peter he'd chosen to show her. Olivia doubted her mother had considered the possibility that Peter was an escaped German soldier! If she only knew that she'd harbored such a man in her home.

Olivia had been taken for a fool, her and her whole family.

“You…you lied to me…” she said, her hands shaking with anger.

Peter stared at her, a faint look of shame in his eyes. “I did,” he admitted. “But I couldn't have told you the truth. Not at first. You wouldn't have understood.”

“You said it yourself!” Olivia shouted. “You're a German soldier!”

“But that doesn't mean that I'm a monster!” Peter insisted. “I told you, I despise Hitler and all he and his Nazis stand for.” He sighed, trying to control his emotions; his piercing blue eyes held Olivia in place. “I am as you see me,” he said. “I'm the man you fell in love with, who loves you back with all his heart. The only thing truly different between who I am and who I pretended to be is my family name. You've got to believe me…you just have to…”

There was a part of Olivia that wanted to do just that. She loved him; there was no point in denying it. Peter had always been kind to her, funny, and intelligent. His touch sent her heart racing. Even now, standing before him, not an hour since she'd given herself to him, Olivia had no regrets. Maybe things could be fixed. Maybe he could better explain himself. All it would take was to fall back into his arms…

But there was another part of her that couldn't let it go. Just like how Billy had kept his love secret from her, Peter, too, had chosen to hide something; a truth that he knew would change everything between them. How could she be with him now? He was a German soldier! Tears welled in Olivia's eyes, spilling over to tumble down her cheeks.

“I…I can't!” she cried, running for the door.

After breaking off her engagement to Billy, Olivia had thought her life couldn't possibly get any more complicated.

She had been wrong.

“Olivia, wait!”

But she didn't. As the door slammed shut behind her, Peter swore under his breath. Only a few moments earlier, she'd been lying asleep beside him. An hour before that, they had made love for the first time. He could still hear her voice as she said that she loved him. But now, because he'd finally revealed the truth about himself, she was gone.

Peter couldn't blame her. He'd known the risk.

He'd seen the disbelief in her eyes. What a shock it must've been. He remembered the way she'd spoken about Germans, saying that they deserved everything they were getting; to learn that
he
was one of those Germans must have been a bitter pill to swallow.

What could he do but let her go? Surely she would run and tell her father what had happened; it'd only be a matter of time before John showed up at his door with his gun and handcuffs.

Go after her!

The thought raced through Peter as if it was electricity. He stared at the door. His reasons were selfish. It wasn't because he was having second thoughts about being locked up; escaping from the wrecked train with Otto had been a mistake for which he knew he should pay. The real reason Peter wanted to stop Olivia was that he loved her. No matter what, he couldn't let her hate him. He had lied to her, hurt her. But maybe he could still make it right between them. Maybe he could convince her that he wasn't the enemy. Maybe he could taste her lips, tell her that he loved her, just one more time…

Peter reached for his clothes.

Olivia ran as fast as she could. Once she'd hurried down the stairs from Peter's apartment, she'd had only one destination in mind.

She had to get home.

Even as she dashed past the post office, the hardware store, and then the bank, its clock showing that it was nearly midnight, Olivia wondered how she could possibly tell her family what had happened. What would her father say? Would he feel as betrayed as she did? John Marsten had gone out of his way to help Peter, letting him stay in his home while he recovered from his injuries, and then finding him an apartment. If word got out about Peter, if the people of Miller's Creek learned that he was German, her father's reputation as sheriff would be left in tatters. Olivia could only imagine what her mother would say. Would Elizabeth crow about being right to doubt Peter? To this day, Olivia's mother still held on to the tiniest of slights, to instances in which she knew she was right; would Olivia have to hear about her mistake for the rest of her life?

And what about Billy? How would he react? Would what remained of their friendship survive this revelation?

But worst of all was the struggle Olivia knew she would have to face alone. The man she loved, who had unexpectedly come into her life and then stolen her heart, was an enemy of her nation.
It wasn't possible!
He had lied to her, betrayed her trust, and deceived her. She had allowed herself to believe in him, in their growing relationship, to think that she had finally found the man she loved, the person she might spend the rest of her life with. Then, when Peter had revealed the truth of who he was, it was ruined in an instant.

But even now, as tears flowed down her cheeks, sobbing as she ran, Olivia couldn't bring herself to hate Peter. All she wanted was to rewind time, to go back to a week earlier, a day, even an hour, back to when she believed him to be as American as she was, to a moment when their future together seemed bright and limitless.

Stop dreaming!
It's too late for that…

Olivia ran on. Fortunately, the earlier celebration had died down and she only saw a couple of people at a distance. The ragged sound of her breathing filled her ears and her legs burned, but she never slowed. But then, just as she rounded the corner that would lead her home, Olivia heard the fevered pounding of footsteps behind her. Glancing back, she saw a man racing toward her; it was Peter.

“Olivia, wait!” he shouted. “Just wait!”

She shook her head and tears flew from her eyes. Though she continued to run as hard as she could, Peter was too fast; little more than a block from her house, he caught up, reached out, and grabbed her by the arm. Desperately, Olivia tried to break free, but he held her tight.

“Let me go!” she insisted.

“Not until you hear me out!”

“What more is there to say?! You lied to me! You're the enemy!”

“If that's so, then why would I tell you?” Peter demanded. “Why would I admit to who I really am? If my intention was to do you or anyone else harm, I would've shut my mouth and done it! No one would ever have been the wiser! But by telling you the truth, I put myself at your mercy! My life is in your hands!”

Olivia opened her mouth but found herself speechless. Peter was right.

“When we first met, I'd come to town to turn myself in,” he continued. “I knew that it was wrong to have run away from the wrecked train. I was willing to surrender. But then I met you.” Peter paused, his eyes searching hers. “I pulled you out of the way of that truck and got hurt. When I woke up, when I saw you again, when I heard the sound of your voice and got to know the beautiful woman it belonged to, I found myself unable to tell you the truth. Not then. Not when I was starting to fall in love with you.”

“Peter…” she managed, her heart racing.

“My coming here might have been an accident. A twist of fate. But now it's too late. I've found you and I don't want to give you up.” Abruptly, Peter let go of Olivia's arm. “What I'm telling you is the truth. If that isn't enough or if you still don't believe me, then go ahead. Run and tell your father. I won't try to stop you and I won't escape. Whatever happens now is up to you.”

Only a few moments before, Olivia had been running as fast as she could, desperately trying to get home. Now, she found herself unable to move. Time stretched slowly forward, her heart thundered, as her future with Peter hung in the balance. She thought about everything he had told her, as unbelievable as it was, how he'd laid himself bare, leaving it up to her what happened next. She could go to her father, tell him all she knew, and the authorities would decide Peter's fate. Deep down, she knew that that would be the end, that she would never see him again. Just the thought of their separation, of never feeling his touch or hearing his voice, made her weak in the knees. But what choice did she have? She loved Peter with all her heart, but could she keep his secret? Should she?

But then, just as she was about to admit to how conflicted she was, a figure burst from the bushes beside them and threw itself at Peter, filling the night with punches and curses.

Olivia was too terrified scream.

Billy felt like a fool. It was growing late; the moon shone down on him as he paced back and forth a block from Olivia's home. It was colder than he'd expected, especially for early spring, so he stamped his feet and rubbed his arms for warmth. Every minute or so, his eyes rose to look at the Marsten house, but it never changed; only a lone light shone in an upstairs window. He had no idea where Olivia was.

His disbelief at seeing Olivia kiss Peter Baird had become anger and disappointment as the day wore on. Billy had gone back to the bank and stewed in his office, alone as the rest of the employees took the remainder of the day off to celebrate the end of the war in Europe. Finally, around suppertime, he'd screwed up enough courage to confront Olivia, to demand an explanation for what he'd seen. He'd marched across town, hoping that he wouldn't lose his nerve the second he saw her.