The Unlikely Allies (21 page)

****

Derek slept surprisingly well. He got up at the first stirrings of the camp and joined the family for breakfast as they watched the sun rise. After breakfast he saw that other Lapps were coming, and Mallory said, “The service will start soon, but you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“I’d like very much to stay,” he said and surprisingly found himself eager to observe the kind of service they would have.

He discovered it was quite primitive. A group of about twenty-five people had gathered to listen to the Jesus woman preach. She handed out the gifts she had brought—Bibles for some, small packages of food, and other things the people could use.

The enthusiastic singing impressed Derek. He did not know most of the hymns, but he was surprised when they sang “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God,” written by Martin Luther.

“You didn’t think we knew any German hymns, did you?” Mallory whispered with a smile. She was sitting beside him as Lorge got up to preach first.

“No, I didn’t. It sounded good, though.”

Mallory saw that Lorge had developed great confidence. He delivered a simple message on the death of Stephen, whom he called Steben.

“Steben was a great lover of Jesus,” Lorge said. “He was not afraid to die, for he knew he would be with Jesus forever.” He went on to trace the story of Stephen, quoting many Scripture verses.

Derek whispered once, “Is he one of your converts?”

“Oh yes, my very first one! Isn’t he good?”

Lorge finished his sermon and then said, “Now we will hear from the Jesus woman.”

“Well, here goes. Don’t be too critical.”

“I couldn’t be that.”

Derek listened with interest as Mallory spoke. She had a Bible in her hands, and the cold had turned her cheeks pink and her lips red. Her dark eyes flashed as she passionately spoke of the love of God. Her message was to love one another as God loves us. After she had spoken for about fifteen minutes, she said, “If any of you here want Jesus to come into your heart, we will pray with you and for you. And if you will open the door, He will come in.”

Derek bowed his head, and during the prayer he felt a strange
stirring in his heart. He felt a million miles from God, but he had seen the reality of God through this woman who had entered his life so unexpectedly. He had seen it in the love that these simple people showed to her, and even in Orva, who did not bow her head, he noticed, but stared straight at Mallory as she prayed. Even this hard woman had some sort of love in her. Derek felt a great longing for Mallory, but what could he do? He was caught in a world that was completely hateful to her, and it grieved him.

When the service was over, Mallory said to him, “I hope you enjoyed the service.”

“Very much.”

“I hate to go, but I guess it’s time.”

“Yes, I suppose so. I can’t stay away from my post for too long.”

He watched as the congregation crowded around Mallory, and he stood off to one side. He was surprised when Orva came and stood in front of him silently. “It’s been good to meet you,” Derek said politely.

“You are not good for Mallory.” The words were flat, and Derek blinked with surprise. He could not think of an answer, and the woman turned and walked away without another word.

“What was Orva saying to you?” Mallory asked after they had gotten into the truck and started back toward Narvik and their long drive south.

“Oh, something about you.”

“She’s had a hard life. I’d give anything to see her come to know God. She needs peace in her heart.”

“Don’t we all.”

She looked at him and said, “Yes, we all do.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

A Man’s Strength

The night had closed in quickly, and Mallory sat half asleep in the seat beside Derek. They had run into bad weather on the last part of their trip south and been unable to travel very far before darkness fell. Now a turbulent keening wind jostled the heavy truck from side to side, and Derek was having trouble keeping it on the road.

Suddenly the engine clanked loudly and began to whir.

“What’s wrong with the truck?”

“I don’t know,” Derek said, “but something is.” He steered the truck to the side of the road, where the engine gave a final loud cracking noise and fell silent.

“Just what we needed,” he said grimly. “A breakdown in the middle of nowhere at night in this weather!”

“Will it start?”

“I don’t think so.” Derek tried the starter but got no response. “It’s not something I’d be able to fix, especially in this weather. We’ll have to wait until a vehicle comes along and we can get a ride to the next village. Maybe there’ll be a phone there.”

“The temperature is dropping. We’d better bundle up.”

They both got out their heavy-duty overcoats and mittens, but with no heater, even the inside of the truck began to grow unbearably cold. Derek stared outside, then turned to look back down the road. “Not a soul. There’s not likely to be anyone out on the road either, I’m afraid. Maybe we ought to try to walk to get help.”

“No, don’t do that,” Mallory said quickly. “Do you know where we are?”

“Let me see.” Derek grabbed the map that was on the seat beside him and turned the light on overhead. He traced the map with his finger and said, “I think we’re somewhere about here. It’s at least fifteen miles to the next village.”

“You can’t walk that tonight. We’ll just have to wait and pray that somebody comes by pretty soon.”

“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “Not too many people are going to venture out in a storm unless they have a good reason.”

The two fell silent, and for a time the only sound was the whining of the wind and the sleet striking the truck.

“That wind sounds like an angry beast trying to get in,” Derek said.

“It does, doesn’t it?”

They sat in silence for several more minutes. “Well, we’re going to have to use our body heat—just like the Lapps do in their tents.” Derek smiled despite the difficult situation.

“I didn’t mean to laugh at you the other night,” Mallory said.

He moved over and put his arm around her, and she leaned against him. “It didn’t hurt me. I’d never seen anything like it, though. I guess all Lapp families are really close. They have to be.”

“They’re lovely people. They have a keen sense of humor. I think they were enjoying your discomfort. You looked so funny.”

“I
felt
ridiculous too,” Derek said with a laugh, “but I enjoyed meeting them.” He adjusted his arm behind Mallory. “I think I understand a little better now why you left your home to come to these people. I didn’t before.”

“Most people don’t understand at all, but I think you have to remember that God doesn’t have any favorites.”

“What an odd thing to say!”

“Well, we all have favorites. We think kings are more
important than chimney sweeps, but they’re not. Not in God’s sight.”

“You’re a strange woman, Mallory Winslow.”

“Not so strange.”

Even in their thick winter coats, Derek was very conscious of Mallory’s body pressed against his as they huddled together in the cold. “Here,” he said. “Let’s get the other blanket.” He struggled to turn around and pull the extra blanket they had brought and arranged it over them. He carefully tucked it in and then settled back with his arm around her again. “Is that better?”

“Yes. I’ll be all right. Don’t worry about me.”

Derek found himself unable to think of anything except the closeness of this woman. Since he had lost Rachel, he had been a lonely man, and now his attentions were drawn to Mallory almost as if she were an angel sent to save him. He turned, and she caught his gaze and held it, her eyes as direct as his own. He became vividly aware of the good and warm things he felt for her. She had a woman’s spirited fire beneath the soft depth of her femininity. He knew she would not reveal these things deliberately and thought that it must be his own desires that made them so plain.

Mallory smiled frankly at him, and it gave him a feeling of pride that she showed no fear of him. As they gazed at each other, he felt a powerful warmth in her presence and saw that she felt the same. He couldn’t be sure in the darkness, but it looked like her cheeks were redder than usual. He pulled her close, and as she lifted her face to his, he felt a great rush of desire. The touch of her lips was like a wild sweetness, stirring him deeply with his longing for her. He did not want this moment to end, and he was shocked when she abruptly pushed him away.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Derek.”

He was flustered at her reaction. Hadn’t she wanted him to kiss her? “No . . . no, I know I shouldn’t. I’m sorry.” He blamed himself for misreading her like that. He watched
her as she drew back, leaning against the door of the truck. “Do you hate us so much—the German people?” he asked.

“No, I think your country is wrong, but I don’t hate you.” Mallory was disturbed by what had just happened and didn’t want to talk to him just now. “I think we’d better try to get some sleep.” She turned away from him, drew the blanket closely around her, and shut him out. She did not, however, go to sleep, for she was deeply shaken. She knew he had not kissed her against her will. She had been more than willing to receive his kiss and had in fact invited it. But this wasn’t love, she insisted. It couldn’t be. She didn’t want to fall in love with a German officer. Yet what they shared was the beginning of
something.
She simply could not understand what. Desperately wishing she hadn’t kissed him, she told herself vehemently,
No matter what I’m feeling, nothing good can come of this!

****

Derek got out of the truck and reached up to hand Mallory down. She took his hand and stepped out without speaking.

“Thanks for the ride,” Derek said to the driver of the truck that had picked them up at dawn. He had hitched up the broken-down vehicle to his own and towed them all the way back to Oslo.

“That’s all right, Major,” the driver said. “I hope your truck’s not broken completely.” He got out to unhitch Lars’s truck and leave it outside the Karlstads’ place.

“It’ll be all right, I’m sure. Thank you.”

The truck had come along as the storm was winding down, and thankfully the driver had spotted them and stopped. He didn’t seem to have much to say, and during the long drive back to Oslo, the three had spoken very little.

Derek watched as the truck pulled away, then turned and said suddenly, “I behaved badly, Mallory.”

“We both did.”

“No, the fault was mine.” He struggled to find the words
that would explain himself but could not. Finally he shrugged and said, “I’m a lonely man, Mallory. I hope you can forgive me.”

“Of course, Derek.”

“May I see you again?”

She hesitated. She had not been able to get her mind off of that moment of intimacy they had shared. She could not understand her response to him. She had been kissed several times before but had never felt as she had at that moment. It had touched a deep well in her that had suddenly overflowed. She realized that she longed for such intimacy as much as anyone else, and that if the conditions had been a little different, she might have surrendered more of herself. The thought troubled her, but knowing that the fault was at least half hers, she forced a smile and said, “Yes, of course you may see me again.”

****

Colonel Ludwig Ritter sat bolt upright behind his desk looking up at Derek, who had come to give a report. Ritter had been waiting for an opportunity to dress him down, and now he said, “I’m disappointed in your work, Major.”

“What bothers you in particular, Colonel?” Derek asked quietly. He knew he did not have the heart for what Ritter required of him, but he met the man’s eyes squarely. Most people collapsed under Ritter’s iron scrutiny, but Derek stood upright and challenged his superior officer.

“This resistance. It’s getting out of hand, and you’re not helping a great deal.”

“I’m sorry you think so, sir.”

“You’ve got to crack down. These people don’t understand softness. You’ve got to put the fear of God in them—or at least the fear of Germans.”

Derek never dropped his gaze, and finally when Ritter dismissed him curtly, he wheeled and left the room without another word.

Ritter was irritated, his feelings bruised by the dressing down he himself had received from headquarters in Berlin. He was a hard man, demanding instant obedience, and Derek Grüber’s insolence angered him. If he had been just another officer, he would have cracked down harder, but Grüber’s father was a national hero. One did not strike out at men like that with impunity!

The door opened, and Stahl entered with a sheaf of papers. “These just came in from Berlin.”

“What are they?”

“The usual demands. They can’t understand how stubborn and bullheaded these Norwegians are.”

“I’d like to see Herr Göring in charge here for a week. Then he would see what it’s like.”

“What about Major Grüber?”

“He’s soft, Stahl. Not like his father.”

“No, sir, I don’t believe he is.” He hesitated, then said, “He’s been seeing that American woman Winslow. I don’t trust her.”

“Do you have any hard evidence against her?”

“No, but I’ve got a man watching her. Sooner or later she’ll make a slip.” He snorted and shook his head violently. “All this nonsense about preaching to the Lapps! She’s a liar, and I’ll expose her sooner or later!”

Ritter nodded but had turned his focus to the papers. “Have you read these?”

“Yes, sir.”

“We’ve got to implement this.” He tapped the paper on top. “We’re ordered to deport all Jews. Ordinarily I’d ask my second-in-command to take care of this, but I don’t trust Grüber to do it. You and I will take care of it.”

Stahl was pleased, for he disliked Grüber. “I’m glad you trust me, sir, and believe me, it will be a pleasure to get rid of those filthy Jews!”

****

Mallory carefully packed the battery units into what appeared to be a wicker-covered carboy. It looked, for all practical purposes, like a jug to hold liquid, usually wine, but when the top was removed, an oversized battery was fitted into it. She closed the top carefully, then turned to the large brown leather case. It looked rather like the case a lawyer or an accountant would carry, but she lifted the top and checked the wiring of the large radio concealed within it. Anyone opening the case would know at once it was a radio, but she trusted that no one would think to do that. She turned then to the book, which, according to the cover, was a cookbook. But when she opened it, she gazed with satisfaction at the revolver that lay inside. She had carefully cut out the pages using a razor blade until finally there was a hollow space just large enough to contain the revolver. She picked it up, checked the load, and put it back down again. Her last encounter with the gestapo had made her more careful and apprehensive.