Saving the Rifleman by Julie Rowe Read Free Book Online

reproach.
    “No. No fever.” She shook her head, her hands falling away, and he let her go.
    Warmth rose from her core, spreading through her, making her needy for things she had no right to.
    They had no time for this. No time for her to try to understand the rush of feelings through her body. To understand why his touch burned her or why she burned to be touched by him.
    She fetched her travelling bag and cloak, since she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to come back, while John finished dressing.
    “Ready?” he asked.
    She nodded.
    “What do I do with my uniform?”
    “Leave it here. Rose will take care of it.”
    They eased out of the room and into the deserted hallway. Maria made sure no one was visible before she motioned for John to join her.
    They walked quickly, but quietly, to the end of the hall. The last room was their isolation room. It wasn’t much bigger than a closet itself, though it did have a small one of its own. There was one cot, a chair and small table with a lamp, and that was all.
    She lit the lamp then closed the door.
    John looked about the room, a frown creasing his forehead. He limped to the closet and opened the door. “There’s barely enough room for you to stand up in here.”
    Maria looked inside over his shoulder. “Nonsense, there’s room enough for me to sit on the floor.”
    He looked at her as if she’d grown a second head then glanced between her and the bed, his suggestion clear.
    “No,” she said before he could say anything. “You need to be in the cot. That’s the story Rose is telling everyone. If I’m found in the cot we’re both dead.”
    He recoiled as if her frank words slapped him. “It’s hardly the gentlemanly thing to do.”
    “This is war. You’re wounded and I’m a nurse. You’ll sleep in the cot. Get what rest you can. And as soon as the Germans leave, so will we.”
    “You’re very good at giving orders.”
    “Nursing is not for the weak or fainthearted.”
    “I suppose not.” He moved to the cot and pushed the blanket back. “What about you?”
    “I’ll be in the closet.” He frowned and she added, “The hall floor is quite squeaky. We’ll hear when someone comes near.”
    He finally settled under the covers, his head only a foot or so from the closet. “Could you leave the door open a crack so we can talk?”
    “Certainly.” She sat down inside the closet, leaving the door open wide enough for them to see each other.
    “Check my jacket.”
    She patted it to make sure she’d found everything and discovered something stiff sewn into the lining. A small notebook. The pages inside were covered in handwritten notations. Much of it seemed to be about troop movements with locations and dates. Definitely something to keep out of suspicious hands. “Perhaps I should keep this in case you’re searched. I have a pocket in my dress.”
    After a short hesitation, he nodded. “I think this is the oddest situation I’ve ever been in.”
    * * *
    “Situation?”
    “I’m in bed pretending to be sick with a woman hiding in the closet.” The irony of it wasn’t lost on John. He’d known men to boast about hiding in a woman’s closet to avoid being seen by their husband, but none of them had ever mentioned the lady doing the hiding.
    “I suppose this is a bit unusual,” Maria said, her tone grudging. “Unfortunately, I’m afraid I’ve gotten used to the oddness of my life here. A week ago I hid a British soldier in the apple barrel in the shed out back. He’d just arrived and we hadn’t had time to get him into civilian clothes.”
    “How long was he in there for?”
    “I’m not sure, an hour or two at least. About a month ago, we had two British officers take refuge with us. To get them out we dressed one as an old woman and the other as a hunchback.”
    Ingenious. “Did they make it?”
    “I don’t know.”
    The uncertainty in her voice struck him like a blow.
    He’d put her into this crazed state of affairs, damned if he