Remembering You by Tricia Goyer Read Free Book Online Page B

the counter.
    “Yes, I have the room here,” the clerk said, impressing her with his English. “One hundred seventy euros a night.”
    Ava glanced at Tana. “How much is that in dollars?”

    “Approximately 225 American dollars,” the clerk answered for her. “Will that be on a credit card?”
    “I don’t understand. I thought the hotel rooms were already covered.”
    The clerk frowned and cocked one eyebrow.
    “Maybe you should ask your grandfather,” Tana suggested.
    “That’s a good idea.” Ava tucked a long strand of blond hair behind her ear. She hurried over to her grandfather, still deep in conversation, sharing old war stories. Tana followed.
    “Did anyone tell Jack yet?” a shorter man interrupted, glancing at his watch. He was stocky and round, and his face looked jolly, even with concern in his eyes.
    “Tell me what?”
    The room quieted, and it was only then Ava realized that their flushed faces had to do with something other than just meeting old friends.
    “It’s a big problem.” A tall man strode forward. He didn’t look as if he had lost an inch of his height over the years. The man’s commanding presence showed he used to be in charge of many of these guys. Even after sixty-seven years, they looked at him with respect.
    “Ava, this is Mitch Thompson, one of our former commanders,” Grandpa Jack said.
    “The tour guide’s been hospitalized somewhere in North Africa. They were doing a tour with veterans there. There was a bus accident. All the guys are okay,” he continued, but before he could finish, a few of the other veterans started in about friends they knew who’d fought in North Africa. Friends they hoped weren’t on that tour.
    “Excuse me.” Ava moved closer to Commander Mitch. “Are they bringing in another tour guide?”

    “There is no one else. Our tour guide had his own company. He ran the show himself.”
    “Is the tour canceled then? Did we come here for nothing? Are we going to have to head home?” Ava placed her fingers on her temples, pressing them hard. Trickles of sweat beaded on her brow and the men’s voices faded in and out as if someone was turning the volume in the room up and down.
    “There’s more,” the man added, running his hand through his graying hair. “We’re also out of luck concerning the hotels on the battle route. The hotel manager said the guide usually paid as he went. We’ll get our money back later, but that doesn’t help us now.”
    An older woman approached, placing a hand on Ava’s elbow. Her permed hair and the laugh lines around her eyes indicated she was much older than Ava, but not as old as the veterans. She was probably a daughter, Ava guessed.
    “What he means, honey, is that the rooms have been reserved, but they haven’t been paid for yet.”
    “My sister here called the chairman of the Mauthausen memorial committee,” the man said, “letting her know that we might not be coming for the ceremony next week. The committee was horrified we’d been left in such a situation. They’ve booked hotel rooms for us in the village of Mauthausen. They—” Emotion filled his voice, and he lowered his head, focusing on the floor’s marble tiles. “They are covering the cost of our rooms and food for the week. They also chartered a bus to drive everyone there. It should be here soon. We’re packing up and leaving for Austria.”

    “We’re heading to Austria tonight?” Ava pictured the map of the battle route. The tour was supposed to start in France and then travel through Belgium and Germany, finally ending in Austria. Looking over the agenda for each day, she’d written a short outline of places where she’d shoot footage and things she’d talk to Grandpa Jack about along the way. By heading to the last stop now, the veterans would lose so much…and she wouldn’t get the footage she needed. She suddenly felt sick, and her eyelids were weighed down with the weariness of every mile the airplane had just