Sweet Grass, North Dakota

February 1955

"Rub-a-dub-dub three girls in a tub," Carter sang, kneeling next to said tub. "And who do you think they be? The butcher!" He took Rose's wrist and held up her hand.

"The baker!" Susan chirped cheerfully, splashing the water gently with her hands.

"The candlestick maker!" Ila May screamed as she jumped up and then back down in the tub, sending a tidal wave over her sisters.

"Ila!"

"Yi-Ya!"

In retaliation, Susan and Rose began splashing water at their older sister. Ila, never one to take things lying down, splashed back until there was more water outside the tub than in it.

"Enough!"

All three girls stopped mid-splash and looked over at their father who, by now, was soaking wet. They shared a look and started to giggle. Carter heaved a sigh and looked down at the sudsy ocean that now covered the floor. Five minutes. They lasted five minutes.

"Oops," Ila snorted from behind her hands. "Sorry, Daddy." Carter narrowed his eyes at her. She was decidedly not sorry.

"Oh, you're all wet," Susan observed sympathetically, looking suitably contrite after she had stifled her giggles.

Rose made no attempt to appear apologetic. She just cackled and splashed her hands in the water, sending more over the side and onto Carter.

"Well, I'm clean. Now it's your turn. Ila, soap up. Help Suzy. And you!" He turned his eye on Rose who stiffened and then covered her mouth to giggle. "You, come here!"

Rose screamed as Carter's hand shot out and grabbed her. She wiggled and giggled and splashed about while he went at her with the soap. Ila helpfully dumped water over her to wash the soap off. Then they spent a few minutes styling their hair with bubbles before rinsing that off too. Eventually, they were all squeaky clean. And Carter was more than drenched.

"You need a towel for you, Daddy," Susan said.

"Maybe two," Carter agreed. He hoisted Rose out of the tub and swaddled her in a towel. She screeched and arched her back, twisting in his arms as she reached for the tub, her hands opening and closing. Carter set her down and shooed her out the door, blocking her re-entry with his leg. She threw herself against it and wailed. Feeling very much like an acrobat, he helped Susan out of the tub and handed her a towel. Ila got out herself, somehow bringing a gallon of water with her. She threw a towel over herself and pushed past his leg—knocking Rose over in the process—and thumped out of the bathroom, making ghost noises. The other girls raced after her, and Carter heard the thundering of little feet down the hall, followed by a mixture of squeals and screams.

A piercing wail announced that all the commotion had awoken the baby.

Oh boy, he was in trouble. Quickly, he pulled the plug and ran out after the girls. "Hey, hey you guys, you need to be quiet!" But his presence only seemed to rile them up even more and they took off in separate directions, discarding their towels as they went. Carter chased after them, scooping Rose up first and throwing her over his shoulder, then grabbing Susan and holding her under his arm. With no hands left, he cornered Ila and squished her into the wall with his hip.

"All right, you hooligans. You already woke the baby, but let's try to settle down. Into your room and get into your pyjamas." He released Ila and set down the other girls. Ila dodged to make a run for it, but he grabbed her hand and led her towards the girls' room. The other two followed.

It took another hour to get the bathroom tidied and the girls dried, dressed, brushed, tucked in, and, if not asleep, then at least quiet. Carter gave himself a pat on the back. Not bad. Of course, Lucy could have done all this in half the time.

Speaking of…

Carter gingerly opened the door to his room and poked his head in. His wife was sitting up in bed, propped up against a few pillows. She was reading a book by lamplight while the baby was nestled against her breast. Lowering her book, she looked over. "Hail the conquering hero."

Carter grinned sheepishly. "Sorry it took so long. And that we were so loud."

Lucy shrugged and pat the baby's bottom. "No harm done. You'd think he would be use to it by now."

Carter came around to her side of the bed and kissed the baby's head. "She's right, Johnny. After all, you're six weeks old already. You can't let those sisters of yours bother you." He redirected his lips to his wife, who gave him a quick peck.

"You're wet."

"Still?" Carter checked his shirt. "I guess I'm a little damp. Okay. I'll be back." Carter kissed her again and then set about getting ready for bed. He was brushing his teeth in the ensuite when Lucy spoke up.

"How on earth do you have so much energy still? I'm running on empty."

Carter poked his back into the bedroom and held his toothbrush against the side of his mouth. "Well, it helps that I wasn't the one who had the baby."

"Oh yeah. That might have something to do with it."

Carter grinned. "A little something anyway," he replied with a wink. He ducked back into the bathroom and finished his routine. "And, besides, I had a lot of training back in the war," he said as he came back out and got into his flannel pyjamas. "Boy, there were some times we didn't sleep for days on end. I think the Colonel went a whole week without sleep once. Was he loopy by the end of it."

Lucy arched her eyebrow. "I didn't realize there was so much to do as a prisoner of war."

"Oh. Uh, well, you know, Newkirk threw some wild parties," he laughed before crawling into bed beside her.

Lucy eyed him suspiciously. Over the years, Carter had dropped enough hints that he wasn't a regular POW, but he was sure Lucy was never able to put all the information together to get the entire picture. But, then again, who would? The exploits of Stalag 13 were unbelievable- the average person wouldn't even think to imagine what was done there.

"Hmmm," Lucy hummed. "Well I might not have been a POW, but you'd think after three children I would have gotten the hang of operating on no sleep."

"Tired or not, you're doing a good job. I'm proud of you." He kissed her temple. "What are you reading?"

Lucy flipped over the book to read the cover. "Let's see: The Cat's Cradle, by Abigail Porterfield. It's not too bad so far."

Carter frowned and grabbed the book from her. Lucy squawked in protest. "Just a sec," he said. He flipped to the back of the book. "All right, it says 'the end', so I guess it's safe." He handed the book back to her. She took it and set it down on the bed and then carefully stood up. Gently, she lay the baby in his cradle and then got back into bed.

"You're a strange one, Andrew Carter," she said. "But your my strange one." She cuddled up to him and he held her close. Together they enjoyed a few minutes of peace and quiet.

A knock on their door destroyed their reprieve. The noise, small as it was, caused the baby to stir, squawk, and then cry. Both Carter and Lucy groaned. A moment later, the door opened to reveal Susan, standing there with her Kinch ragdoll* in her arms.

"Daddy? Can I have a glass of water?" she asked quietly.

Carter sighed. "Ooookay," he said. He reluctantly let go of Lucy, who then got up to tend to the baby, and rolled out of bed. Susan grabbed his hand and led him into the kitchen, where he poured her a small glass of water.

There was another knock, but this time at the front door. Carter arched an eyebrow and checked his watch. Nearly 2030. But who could it possibly be at this time of night? Even if it hadn't been so late, they lived too far out of town for most folks to make a social call without phoning first.

"Who is that?" Susan asked curiously.

"Don't know," Carter replied as he handed her her cup. "Maybe it's Henry." He couldn't imagine it being anyone other than their closest neighbour. "His horses probably got out again. I keep telling him he needs to fix that fence. I really just ought to do it my—"

Carter's voice died in his throat as he opened the door.

He recognized the man on his doorstep, and it was definitely not his neighbour. But, beyond that, his brain refused to acknowledge who it was. Because it couldn't be. It was impossible.

And yet, there he was.

Major Hochstetter.

*I established Carter's little family and the ragdolls in the story Just Playing. And while they're perhaps not as professional and a little bigger than I imagined them to be in the story, you can find my attempts to recreate the ragdolls over on AO3 (search Just Playing Ragdolls and it'll come right up).