Thank you, Marilyn!
A/N: Since I don't know German, I made use of one the translation websites. Hopefully, it didn't whammy me. 'Lieb' reads as 'dear' and 'Schatz' as 'sweetheart'.
Chapter 28
"You must do better, Brunhilde," Josef chided. The hen's ruffled head cocked and one beady, black eye glinted up at him. Lightly stroking the feathers on her back, Josef leaned closer and spoke in a hush, as if afraid of being overheard. "Remember what happened to Vast?"
Brunhilde's eye closed and she muttered and fussed in her nest. The rooster and the rest of the hens slept on, oblivious of the threat that had been lowered upon one of their own.
Josef chuckled under his breath and after a quick glance at their milk cow to be sure she had enough hay, turned for the door. He kept his lamp high, on guard against stepping on Oskar, their tomcat. As if summoned by mere thought, the yellow-gold cat sprinted out of the shadows, twined around his feet and gazed up at him with hooded eyes. Josef carefully bent down and patted him between the ears.
"Good night, Oskar," Josef whispered, scratching behind the cat's ear. "Guard the barn well, my friend." A rumbly purr went up, its volume rising and falling in time with the massaging. Josef's loving expression turned somber. "Tell me. Do you think he will come tonight?"
Oskar rose up on all tiptoes and rubbed his cheek up and down against Josef's leg, voicing a soft 'ya-a-a-a'.
Josef smiled. "Good." Giving the cat a parting tickle under its white chin, he straightened, grimaced when his knee joints popped. As he turned to go, the light touched upon a corner and his steps faltered. A memory returned, of a time when he had stood in nearly the very same place, and found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.
It had been his first face-to-face meeting with Colonel Robert Hogan, though at the time, neither had known the other's identity. Robert had been half-frozen from wading the river to evade a patrol. Josef had been in the barn to butcher Vast for the evening meal. With only the cocking of a weapon to alert him, he suddenly found himself confronting a desperate man. None of his assurances had made a difference, and Josef had feared his life was about to end in his own barn. The standoff had ended with Kurt's timely arrival. Upon hearing his friend's voice, Robert had lowered his weapon and fallen unconscious. Throughout that long night, Josef and Romie had joined their son in a frantic fight to keep him alive. (2)
Even before they had met that night, Josef had known a great deal about Robert Hogan. The stories Kurt had been able to share described an intelligent, brave man with integrity and a sense of humor, a man who put his men's welfare before his own, and who possessed a talent for succeeding against impossible odds. Most importantly, they revealed a man who had slowly revived Kurt's sense of humor and zest for life. For Josef and Romie, that was more than enough reason to care for the American. Getting to know him personally had only deepened their regard into something more.
Robert could never replace their youngest son, nor fill the terrible void Phillip's death had created in their lives. But in many ways, he had become a part of their family, so much so that they loved him as much as another son.
Oskar butted Josef's leg with the top of his head, voicing another soft 'y-a-a-ah' that sounded almost questioning. Josef looked down to find the cat staring up at him, one white forepaw lifted, toes kneading the air.
"No need for concern, Oskar," Josef assured him. "Just an old man lost in thought."
Purring loudly, Oskar butted Josef's leg again, as if telling him to get inside where it was warmer. Josef sent another glance toward the shadowed corner and headed for the door. Oskar plopped his little furry bottom down and watched him go, still purring and with eyes half closed in sleepy contentment.
Once outside, Josef paused and looked round as was his nightly habit. Full dark was upon them, the blackness so complete that only his lantern and the light from the house penetrated the gloom. A rustling sound came from above and behind him. He twisted and looked up, watched a gray shadow take flight against the stars as the barn owl left for its nightly hunt.
Josef continued on to the house. Mozart was waiting patiently on the porch; tail wagging out a merry greeting. Josef climbed the steps and ran his fingers through the thick black and white coat.
"The end of another day, ja, Mozart?"
Mozart yipped and danced a circle around Josef's feet. He laughed softly. Over the last month, the little dog had slowly thrown off his depression and had begun taking an interest in the farm and its inhabitants. Romie loved him dearly; enjoyed his company while Josef was out doing chores or off the farm. Smiling down at the little dog's antics, Josef realized that he had come to love having Mozart around as well. He only wished their new pet's arrival had not been due to tragic circumstances.
"Let us go in, then," Josef said, grasping the doorknob. Mozart dashed inside the moment the door opened, ran straight to the couch and jumped into Romie's arms. She let out a breathless, 'ooph' and cuddled the wriggling black and white body close. Her attempts at avoiding an enthusiastic tongue bath had little success.
"Did you speak with her?" Romie called to Josef, setting Mozart on the couch. Mozart snuck in a last lick to her nose, turned several times on the cushion and with a deep sigh, curled up nose to tail against her leg.
Josef thought of the hen that had lately not been providing her share of eggs. A laying hen that did not lay was good for only one thing. Supper. "Reminding her of Vast's sudden disappearance appeared to have an effect."
"We shall see in the morning," Romie said, petting Mozart. "We will either have eggs for breakfast or chicken soup for supper."
Josef pursed his lips, waggled his head in silent agreement. Hanging his cap and scarf, he placed the lantern on the table and walked across the room to join her in front of the fire. She smiled up at him, lifting the blanket in invitation. He sat down beside her with soft sound of weariness, leaned back and stretched his feet toward the warmth of the fire. Dropping the blanket over his lap, Romie breathed a happy sigh when he put an arm around her shoulders and drew her close.
The snuggled in silence for a while, watching the flames burn lower, then Romie asked softly, "Was it tomorrow that Kurt said he had a day off?"
Josef thought a moment, trying to remember what their son had told them of his schedule. "I believe so."
Romie smiled. "That is good. He looked tired, don't you think?"
"Yes," Josef agreed, though he believed their firstborn's pinched expression was more likely due to worrying about Robert's frame of mind rather than his long hours at the Krankenhaus. "Have Karl and Margaret changed their minds about moving to Hammelburg?"
Romie's face grew pensive, her thoughts returning to her visit with Marta's parents that afternoon. Karl and Margaret had been glad to see her, but distracted by their preparations to leave the place that had once held nothing but happy memories for them. "No. They have most of their things packed already." She looked down at Mozart, stroked the soft coat. "Karl's uncle is expecting them at the end of the week."
Josef sadly shook his head. He was about to pose another question when a knock came at the front door. Mozart's head shot up and his eyes instantly lifted to Romie's face to see if she had heard. She twisted on the couch to lock eyes with Josef. A moment later, there was another knock, followed by a pause, two knocks and after another pause, a third. Romie threw off the blanket and sat bolt upright.
"Robert!"
Beaming, Josef slapped his hands upon his thighs and got to his feet, helping her to stand as well. Head cocked and ears pricked, Mozart sat up and watched them with keen interest.
"I will go let our visitor in, Mutter." Josef went quickly to the door, eagerness quickening his steps. Hogan waited on the porch in full night camouflage, looking more apprehensive than a boy on his first date. When he made no sound and no move to enter, Josef gave him a look of fond exasperation and threw his arm wide.
"Come in, Robert. Come in!"
Hogan walked over the threshold, moving as slowly as a man headed to his execution. Josef clapped him on the back, then pulled him into a hug. Hogan tensed, but after a few moments, returned the embrace. Releasing him, Josef stepped back, but kept one hand upon his shoulder.
"It is about time you came to see us," he said with mock severity. His smile faded quickly, concern blanketing his face. "We have been worried about you."
Hogan's gaze lowered. "Thank you for your concern, sir, but I'm fine now thanks to Kurt and my men."
A soft 'woof' went up on the other side of the couch. Mozart flew past Romie and across the room like a black and white missile, nails scrabbling on the wood floor. Hogan blanched at the sight of Marta's beloved pet but held his ground before the mad rush. Mozart skidded to stop at his feet, tongue lolling and tail whipping back and forth. Before Hogan could even blink, the little dog lunged up and planted both front feet on his knee. Hogan stared down at him, hands clenched at his sides, frozen to the spot by the living reminder of that terrible night.
Josef and Romie traded glances.
"I can put him outside if you wish, Robert," Josef offered, understanding gentling his tone.
Hogan shook his head. "No, no. It's okay." Mozart whined and pawed at his knee. Hogan still made no move to pet him.
Romie clapped her hands once. "Come, Mozart."
Mozart glanced from her back to Hogan's face, dropped his front feet to the floor and obediently trotted to Romie. She pointed to the rug before the fire, murmured a few words. Mozart went to the rug and laid down, but in a position where he could keep an eye on everyone.
Hogan brushed a hand over his face. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."
Romie rushed across the room. "Please don't leave, Robert! We have missed you so." She took him by the hand, gazed up at him with a pleading expression. "Sit with us for awhile."
Hogan lightly rested his free hand upon her shoulder and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I've missed you, too," he said softly.
"I will brew some coffee." Josef headed for the kitchen; saddened by the changes Marta's death had wrought upon their foster son. Dark circles hung below Robert's eyes, and he looked drawn and pale. Yet the invisible wounds worried Josef more. Based on what he had seen of Hogan's reactions so far, Kurt's concerns seemed more than justified.
Romie laced her arm through Hogan's and gently guided him toward the couch. "You must be cold from being outside. Let's sit by the fire. The coals are just right."
Josef poked his head out of the kitchen, a kettle in one hand and a towel in the other. "Your men, Robert. How are they?"
That was a safe subject and it brought a slight smile to Hogan's face. Speaking loudly enough for Josef to hear in the kitchen, he shared some stories of their day-to-day lives at Stalag 13. Josef and Romie listened with rapt attention; always eager to hear of Carter, Newkirk, Benson and the other men they had met.
"And you, Robert?" Romie tilted her head to catch his eye, worried by his refusal to look her in the face. "How have you been?"
His lips tightened into a thin line. "Managing. Badly."
Josef carried a tray bearing three cups out of the kitchen. Once everyone had been served, he settled back in his rocker and studied their foster son.
"Nightmares?" he gently questioned.
"Oh, yeah," Hogan breathed, staring down at the cup cradled between his hands. "I thought they'd stop once I was back on my feet and in the swing of things again."
"But they have not," Josef said softly, unsurprised.
Hogan shook his head.
Mozart, sensing the anguish blanketing the room, whined low. His soft brown eyes traveled from face to face, then he dropped his head onto his paws again.
Romie set her cup aside without taking a single drink. "We have had our own, Lieb."
Hogan gave her a sidelong glance. "Of me killing Marta." The lifeless tone was one they had never heard from him before.
"Some," Romie admitted softly. She reached out, gently lifted the cup from his hands and set it beside her own. Grasping his chin, she forced him to look her in the eye. "Most of mine are of you, struggling to reach us and dying just yards from our house." She both saw and felt him flinch.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, firelight glistening off the tears in his eyes.
Romie nodded, her hand moving to cup his cheek. "We have wanted so badly to help you, Robert."
Mozart, head still lowered, inched across the braided rug on his belly, one paw at a time toward Hogan's feet. His eyes flicked back and forth between Josef and Romie, but both were too intent upon Hogan to notice.
Josef leaned forward in the rocker, the cup in his hands forgotten. "We knew you were punishing yourself. Denying yourself any chance of comfort, believing you did not deserve it."
"I still don't," Hogan whispered. Romie caressed his cheek, tenderness warming her voice.
"Stop, Schatz." Sadness knit her brow when he pulled back. Turning away, he rested his forearms on his legs and laced his fingers together. His gaze dropped to Mozart, now only inches away, then rose to the fire.
Determined to comfort him, Romie slid closer and lightly stroked the hair at the back of his head. "Your guilt is tearing you apart. You must let it go or you will never get better."
He huffed a weak chuckle. "Kurt said pretty much the same thing."
Josef and Romie shared a quick smile. Amusement crinkled the corners of Josef's eyes.
"Our son has grown wiser over the years."
A thin smile came and went on Hogan's face. Romie glanced down at Mozart as the little dog settled at his feet. Her grin quickly faded as she returned her attention to Hogan.
"You must realize the truth of it, Lieb, or you would not have finally come to us, ja?" She fondly shook her head when he remained silent. "So stubborn."
Josef chuckled softly. "Like Phillip."
"And Kurt," Romie added, smiling.
"I'm sorry," Hogan repeated, staring into the flames. "You've suffered so much loss already. Phillip, Evangeline and the baby, and now I've taken Marta from you." He slowly shook his head, bitterness hardening his expression. "I should've told her when she named me Galahad that I fit the black knight image more. She wanted a protector, but she got a killer."
Frowning, Romie glanced from Josef back to Hogan. "You are a good man, Robert Hogan."
He turned his head and looked at her, revealing eyes seething with anger and despair. "There are things you don't know about me. Ugly things. Flying bombers isn't the only thing I've done for my country. My men don't know all the missions I'm given. You don't know how many times I've deliberately used my gun to end someone's life."
Romie held his gaze without flinching, though the darkness in his eyes had her quavering inside. "You are a soldier and must obey orders."
He stared at her, utterly silent. A change slowly came over his face, revealing a coldness that made her breath catch in her throat. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, curling into a cruel smile that sat easy on a face she loved. His gaze bored into her, as if peering into her very soul. Understanding his motivation, she released a deep, steadying breath and slowly shook her head.
"Showing me the man you must become to fulfill your worst missions will not cause me to love you less, Lieb."
"Nor I, Robert." Josef's voice was resolute. Setting his cup on the floor, he leaned forward in the rocker, almost mirroring Hogan's position.
"That man does not own your heart," Romie insisted. "He would not have given Marta's death a second's thought, and he would not be here now, seeking forgiveness and trying to find it within himself."
A shuddering sigh ripped from Hogan's throat. He bowed his head and squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his fingers into white-knuckled fists. Romie tried to put an arm about him, but he edged away, shunning the comfort. He searched her face, anguish and guilt weighting his broken whisper.
"How can either of you stand the sight of me? I put a bullet into the head of a little girl who was only out looking for her dog. A child you both loved like a granddaughter."
Romie managed not to wince at the stark description of Marta's death. "You did not set out to kill anyone that night, Robert, let alone our little Marta. Nor she did intend to place herself in a position to be killed when she went looking for Mozart."
Josef stretched out a hand and clasped one of Hogan's fists. "It was an accident, Robert. You cannot take responsibility for something no one could have foreseen."
Mozart whined and sat up; ears pricked and eyes intent upon Hogan's face.
Hogan stared down at Josef's hand and slowly shook his head. "I don't know if I can . . . can accept what I've done."
Romie gently rubbed his back. "We have already done so."
Hogan said nothing. Josef and Romie's eyes locked. A sigh drifted past Romie's lips, but she kept up the soothing motion upon his back. Tenderness suffused her voice.
"We love Kurt though he heals Gestapo and SS, the very men we swore to fight against. And our love for him does not waver when he is unable to save a life, not even that of his own family."
Josef tightened his grip upon Hogan's fist. "That," he said with a gentle smile. "is when we love him more."
Hogan's shoulders quivered and his back heaved under Romie's hand. Josef left the rocker and moved to the couch on Hogan's other side. Clasping Hogan's shoulder, he silently offered his love and support.
Romie leaned against Hogan, wrapped an arm about his back. His lashes trembled on his cheeks, glistening in the firelight. Aching for him, Romie pressed closer, hugged tighter.
"The past is the past, Schatz. We can only learn from it, accept it and move on, taking each day as it comes."
Josef nodded, tears in his eyes. "It is how we have managed."
"I don't have the strength you do," Hogan whispered, voice tight with pain.
A tear rolled down Romie's cheek. "Then we shall share ours with you."
Hogan made a choked noise in the back of his throat. Shaking, he slowly folded over until his forehead came to rest on his clenched fists. Romie lovingly gazed down at him, brought one hand to rest upon the back of his head.
"It is all right, Schatz," she whispered, stroking his hair. "Let go of your guilt."
The shaking turned to full-body quaking, but Hogan made no sound. Her face wet with tears, Romie leaned down and rested her cheek against his shoulder. Josef wrapped his arm about him from the other side. Bracketed by their love and warmth, Hogan moaned, and then to their relief, began to sob. They shared watery smiles over his bowed head.
Finally. His healing had truly begun.
(2) The Hand of a Friend
To be continued . . . Thank you for reading. Reviews are appreciated like the finest chocolate! ;-)
