** ROSE POV **
When I got to Bull, he was awake and, except for the ragged wound on his shoulder, seemed to be okay. I'd seen the tank explode and throw his massive body through the air, so there was a good chance that he had a chunk of metal embedded underneath that blood-soaked uniform. I didn't really have time to check though, because the Germans were still crawling all around us. We made our way into a drainage flume, sheltering there until nightfall as the realization that Easy had retreated without us sunk in.
In the darkness, we crept into a barn and I was finally able to take a good look at the oozing hole on Bull's broad shoulder. His face was twisted in pain, and he was having trouble moving his arm. It was only a matter of time before it got infected, and Easy Company just could not afford to lose Denver Randleman. He gave me a nod, and I ripped a wider hole in his shirt, cleaning the wound with water from my canteen.
"Bull, there's no way I can get this out with my fingers without making it worse. It's too deep."
He pulled his knife from the holster and handed it over his shoulder. I looked at him uncertainly.
"I trust you."
Slowly, carefully, I dug the tip of the blade under the piece of twisted metal. He was trying not to show how badly it hurt, but it must have been excruciating for him. Finally, I got a grip and pulled the shard free. He gave an audible sigh of relief, his whole body relaxing as I cleaned the wound again and ripped away part of my shirt to staunch the bleeding and keep out the dirt.
The sound of German voices and a truck stopping outside had us both on our feet, hiding in the shadows. The barn door creaked open, and Bull held a finger to his lips and motioned for me to get down and wait for them to leave. At last, only one man was left and he was heading toward the door. We were almost home free. Then he saw a piece of my bloody shirt on the ground where Bull had been and called out. My heart leapt to my throat and I shifted, accidentally kicking a metal milk bucket.
The German whirled at the sound and I moved to defend myself, but Bull was in front of me before I could move. With the roar of a plane overhead drowning out the sounds of the fight, he bested the young soldier in a brutal bayonet to bayonet battle, finally killing him and hiding his body beneath a pile of straw. He sank back down against the wall beside me, heart still pounding, but relieved nonetheless.
"I'm so sorry, Bull. He picked up that shirt and called out, and I…"
"Sweetheart, it's okay. He'd have searched for us anyway after finding that fresh blood. Nothing we could do. Besides, I didn't do anything that you yourself haven't done already."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about you saving Winters by jumping a German on D-Day with only your trench knife."
His smile held admiration and respect, and I blushed. "How do you even know about that?"
"Heard Winters telling Welsh and Nixon about it after the bridge blew up the other day. They were giving him hell for watching you so much. Welsh asked him what the deal was with you two, and he said that you had saved his life. Caught my interest, so I listened to him tell the story. I can't believe you never said anything."
"Come on, Bull. I did what anyone would have done. You'd have done it. You just did. And I'd do it for any one of you. Now, let me see that shoulder so that I can put a fresh bandage over it."
He studied me for a long minute, curiosity peeking out behind his eyes, and finally asked, "What makes a beautiful, smart 17-year-old girl sign up to be a paratrooper, and actually be tough enough to make it through the training we went through? Much less this war? Everyone in the company has been trying to figure out your story for two years, Rose. How did you get here?"
I trusted him. I just hadn't really talked much about my history with any of the guys. The officers knew, but that was about it. Seeing that he wasn't going to let me take care of his shoulder until I answered him, I sighed and sat back on my heels a bit.
"It's not much of a story. My father went to West Point with my 'Uncle Bob.' They were best friends. Basically wound up in a lot of the same places through the next ten years. When I was 12, we were stationed in Arizona and my parents were killed in a car accident. Uncle Bob was the closest thing I had to family, and he became my guardian. I finished school at sixteen and started volunteering in the hospitals and aid stations wherever we were stationed, with the idea of going to medical school someday. Got attacked one night in a storage room by a private that could never seem to take the hint that I wasn't interested. He decided to take what he wanted instead. Uncle Bob saw to it that he was handled, although he would never tell me how, and stayed with me every step of the way. When I was in the hospital recovering, he asked me what I wanted for my 17th birthday, and I told him I wanted to be a paratrooper. I knew that it would help me in the future when I was working in emergency medicine, and that the paratroopers were the best. I never, ever wanted to feel like a victim ever again. He told me that he was going to put me with the toughest CO, in the toughest company, and if I could make it through training, he would support me every step of the way. And he has. Although, if I know my Uncle Bob, he's probably giving people fits because they can't find me."
"How would he know already? And how did he get you with Easy? You said he went to West Point?"
"Yeah. Sorry, maybe I should have clarified. Uncle Bob to me is Colonel Robert Sink to the rest of you. Now, stop staring at me like I have three heads and turn around so that I can fix your shoulder."
He chuckled, "Yes ma'am. No wonder Winters has a thing for you. You're all business. You two are so much alike that it is scary."
We took turns resting and keeping watch until the sun finally came up. When we peeked out of the barn, it looked as though the Germans had moved on so we started working our way back in the direction that Easy had gone. Bull paused over the body of Private Miller, a replacement who had just been put in his squad. I placed a hand on his shoulder as he knelt to collect the young man's dog tag. Another life ended far too soon.
A jeep rumbled toward us, and I recognized it as one of ours. Bull raised his rifle with his good arm, signaling that we were American, and the jeep slid to a stop beside us. A wave of relief washed over me. I climbed in behind Bull and the jeep charged back down the road. After a few minutes, I saw another rifle raise and recognized Hoobler and the rest of Bull's squad. They'd come looking for us. We hadn't been left behind after all.
"Where the fuck you two been?" Hoobler grinned as he approached the jeep.
Even Cobb looked happy to see us, climbing into the back beside me and throwing an arm around my shoulder.
"You know, if y'all wanted some alone time, all you had to do was say so," he joked, and I elbowed him playfully in the ribs. "Seriously though, damn glad to see you safe. Winters will be too. He was pacing like a caged animal when we took off."
I tried not to let it show on my face, but my heart did a little dance. I knew he cared about all of his soldiers, but Roy seemed to be suggesting something else. That, coupled with Bull's revelation the night before, was more than I could have hoped for. I knew better than to get worked up when there was no possibility that anything could happen, but still, it made me feel good. I was also just happy to hear that he was okay. I hadn't seen him since the firing started.
A crowd of familiar faces gathered around us as the jeep pulled up. I heard John Martin call out, and then he and Bill were beside us and Roy lifted me out of the back of the jeep. I looked around and, atop the rise where our remaining tanks were parked, saw the back of Winters' red head and Nixon looking directly at me. He smiled and spoke to Dick, pointing down at me.
I could see the relief on his face when he met my eyes. Nix just patted him on the arm, lighting his cigarette and leaning back against the tank. There was no rest for the weary though, and a moment later, we were ordered to load up again. For the first time since the war began, Easy Company was retreating. Market Garden was a disaster. I could see the disgust on my Captain's face as I walked toward the convoy.
Exhausted and struggling to pull myself up, I felt a hand on my back, helping me onto the back of the truck. I turned my head and found myself looking into a pair of piercing eyes.
"It's good to see you, Rose."
"Thank you, sir. You too."
My breath hitched as he leaned in close to me, his voice barely above a whisper, "You stay close from now on, okay? I don't ever need another night like last night. That was as close as I ever want to come to Hell."
"Yes sir," I answered quietly, and we held each other's gaze for what seemed like forever.
Finally, Captain Nixon cleared his throat beside us, not even attempting to hide his knowing smile. I was pulled into the back of the truck and we were moving again, but I spent the rest of the slow ride watching him walk behind me and wondering exactly what he had meant.
** WINTERS POV **
"Hey, Dick. Look at this." I saw a smile on Lew's face as he pointed at something behind me, so I turned and searched the field below. He directed, "Right there, by the jeep."
I saw Martin and Guarnere. I saw Cobb and Hoobler. Then I saw Randleman, wounded but alive and, in an overwhelming wave of relief, a small frame tucked under his arm. Rose.
"Oh, thank God," I uttered, not realizing that I had spoken out loud until Nixon chuckled beside me.
"Looks like your girl is every bit the soldier you said she was. Guess maybe you'll actually sleep tonight. Why don't you just walk down there and plant one on her?"
I cut my eyes at him, but he just laughed harder and leaned against the tank to light his cigarette. When I looked back into the field, she met my eyes and smiled, acknowledging me with a small nod. She was safe. As I ordered the retreat, the pit in my gut was a bit shallower.
I still wanted to see for myself that she was okay, but I figured that rushing over to her as the men loaded up would be a bit obvious. When I saw her struggling to pull her exhausted body onto the back of one of the trucks, I saw my chance and went to help.
"Here, let me help you up." She looked to be uninjured, and she turned to meet my eyes. "It's good to see you, Rose."
"Thank you, sir. You too."
The night before, I had the unenviable task of telling Colonel Sink that his adopted daughter was missing in action, and the pain in his eyes as he allowed the news to settle over him spoke to the years' worth of guilt that he'd been harboring over her circumstances. Shortly after she had arrived at Toccoa, he'd briefed all of the officers about unbecoming behavior toward females and made sure we knew who she was to him and what she had been through. He knew that she didn't really want the men to know, but he didn't want any of the officers to be taken by surprise. In that briefing, I began to understand why her eyes held so much more life experience than her 17 years would have suggested.
After a moment of reflection, Sink had patted me on the shoulder. "It's not your fault, Dick. She's a spitfire. And she's out there somewhere. She'll turn up."
I thought about how I had spent the last eighteen hours, pacing and sleepless, wondering where she was. Wondering if I should mount a rescue operation… or a recovery effort. The second thought made me sick, and I didn't allow myself to think it again. I pretended not to notice when Hoobler took a small squad to go searching without asking my permission, but as it grew daylight and they had not returned, I began to worry that I'd lost even more men. Wherever she and Randleman were, I hoped that they were together. I didn't like the thought of her hiding somewhere alone, and I couldn't rid myself of the worry that she would think that we had abandoned her. That I had abandoned her.
As I looked into her eyes now though, it was not betrayal that I saw. It was relief. Her eyes held everything I felt. She was as happy to see me as I was to see her, and not just because she was back with Easy. Something told me that this look was just for me. I found myself leaning in and speaking in a quiet voice that was not quite my own.
"You stay close from now on, okay? I don't ever need another night like last night. That was as close as I ever want to come to Hell."
Her eyes registered surprise and her breathing grew shallow. She was chewing on her bottom lip, and my gaze flicked between her eyes and her mouth. I knew Nix was standing nearby, watching us with a smug smile on his face, but I could not make myself look away. She was standing so close, with uncertain eyes and her lip between her teeth, and all I could think about was kissing her.
"Ahem, Dick?" Nixon cleared his throat to hide his chuckle. "Hate to interrupt, but we need to get moving."
"Yeah," I answered, watching as Cobb pulled her the rest of the way into the truck. "Yeah, I hear you."
We walked along behind the slow-moving trucks in silence for a while. I could tell that Lew was dying to say something, but I didn't ask. I hated retreating as it was, and now, with my feelings for her taking up a growing space in my head, I had plenty on my mind already. Besides, I knew he'd come out with it eventually, whether I asked or not.
Right on cue, he asked, "So, are you ready to admit it yet?"
"Admit what?"
He couldn't hide his amusement at my feigned ignorance.
"Oh, please! You know exactly what. You were damn near intolerable last night, wringing your hands over that woman. And if you could have dipped her back and kissed her just now, in front of God and everybody, you would have. A couple more seconds of gazing into each other's eyes before I interrupted and you probably would have done it anyway!"
"Well then, I guess it's a good thing you interrupted, isn't it?"
"Is it?" he asked, and I realized he was smiling at me again. He had me pegged and he knew it. No use denying it anymore, at least to him. "Is that a confession?"
I shrugged, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye, and sighed, "What if it is?"
His smile widened.
"I won't tell a soul."
** ROSE POV **
"So, I happened to come across this pass. Apparently, someone up the chain thinks that you need a little R&R in Paris," Nixon informed me, waving a piece of paper in front of my face.
"I didn't request a pass, sir."
The mischief flickered in his eyes and he flashed me a dazzling, oh-so-sure-of-himself smile.
"I know. I requested it on your behalf. In a few months, we'll be back in the middle of the bullshit again. With all of the replacements, we will be drilling nonstop until then. You need the break, especially after everything you went through in Holland. Listen, sweetheart, this isn't a request. It's an order. The driver will drop you off at your hotel. I've already made the arrangements. Have a nice trip."
He took my hand and wrapped it around the pass, forcing me to take it from him, and winked at me. As he walked away, he still had that giant grin plastered on his face. He was definitely up to something, but it seemed as though I didn't have much of a choice. I went to pack my bag before the jeep arrived.
** WINTERS POV **
I was relieved to see Bill Guarnere back and in good spirits, and happy to hear that Moose Heyliger was getting better, but as soon as Bill walked out Nix started waving a piece of paper around.
"What is that? Another piece of paper? I don't want to see another piece of paper!"
"It has been decided that you need a little rest and recuperation."
My smug, smiling friend began laying out the details of my forced rest in Paris. Deep down, I knew he was probably right about the rest. Market Garden had been a disaster. What was supposed to have been "old men and kids" turned out to be a lot of Allied deaths. I had been promoted to Battalion XO, but before Heyliger could even settle into his new role as Easy Company's CO, one of our own sentries shot him by mistake. The replacement CO who had come in, Norman Dike, wasn't doing much to win the respect of the enlisted men. Now, the battalion was made up largely of replacements and we had another jump to train for. The more I thought about it, the more I was ready to protest. I simply had too much to worry about right now.
"I can't…"
"It's not an option. Came from Sink. You need a break."
"But I…"
"You're going to Paris. Hotel is already waiting for you. Your jeep is outside. Already has your bag in it. Buh-bye."
Part of me really wanted to wipe that smug smirk off of his face. The other part of me was relieved that the decision had been made for me. If one of my men had been in my position, I would have done the same thing. I grudgingly took the pass from Nixon's hand, and warned him not to catch anything while he was visiting "a certain young lady" in Aldbourne. Lord knows that was the last thing I wanted to deal with. It didn't occur to me to question what he had been smiling about until I got to the hotel to check in. After all, Lewis Nixon was usually smiling smugly at me about something.
"Yes, I'm checking in under Sgt. Rosalie James. Thank you."
I'd been looking down to see what Lew had packed for me when I heard her voice. She was standing in front of me at the check-in desk. I could just see the curve of her face as she spoke, and I knew that, somewhere in Aldbourne, Lewis Nixon had known exactly who I'd be running into in Paris.
"Rose? I didn't realize you'd gotten a pass."
"Oh! Sir, I didn't realize you'd be here. Captain Nixon insisted I take a pass to Paris. Said I needed the break after everything that happened in Holland."
Yes, he definitely did this on purpose, especially since it sounded as though our pre-selected rooms were very near each other.
"Here, let me help you with that bag. He was right, you know. You really do need a break. I was actually going to suggest you take one when Nix kicked me out of Mourmelon."
She did at least have the good grace to laugh at my bad joke as we found our rooms, which turned out to be adjoined, with a Jack-and-Jill style bathroom (separate toilets, but shared bath and lavatory facilities) between us.
Nixon – 3, Winters – 0.
"Okay, Lew. I give up," my inner voice conceded. "At least for now. We're alone in Paris. Why not enjoy it, at least a little?"
"Rose, there was a small café just outside the hotel. After you get settled in, if you don't have other plans, would you like to join me for an early dinner?"
She seemed a bit surprised at my invitation, and I thought I saw the faintest tinge of pink across her cheeks. I was keenly aware of the butterflies in my stomach as I waited for her answer.
"That sounds nice, sir," she answered, taking her bag and unlocking the door.
"Dick. We're off duty in Paris, Rose. For the next few days at least, my name is Dick. I'll come over in half an hour. Is that okay?"
She smiled over her shoulder at me, shyly taking her lower lip between her teeth just as she had when we stood beside the truck outside Nuenen.
"Alright, I'll see you in half an hour… Dick."