Chapter Seventy-One

"For you the war is over."

Ronnie was afraid he would lose his mind if he heard that nonsensical phrase one mor time. Over? The war wasn't over for him. It was still raging out there and his comrades were in the thick of it. And as long as they fought, his heart was with them, fighting still.

He turned his mind back to those he had left behind as he stumbled blindly through the snow, hurried on by his captors to an unknown fate. Rachel and Benjie... they must make it somehow. They had to be safe. He thought it and thought it as if thinking it could make it happen. And then he prayed, prayed on and on as hard as he could. Rachel... Benjie... Sam...Sandy... Dan... he whispered their names between clenched teeth, begging God to get them safely out of the frozen hell of Ardennes.

He didn't know how long it was before at last he heard new voices and the sound of high gates slowly swinging open. And then a door opened and he was inside a building, being asked questions in heavily-accented English. They were basic questions and he was grateful, having prepared himself for a full-on interrogation. Only a few minutes and they were done and he was shoved on again, outside and then into another building. 

He was thrust forward so hard that he lost his balance, landing heavily onto a hard-packed dirt floor. A door slammed shut and for a moment, all was silent. He scrambled to his feet, tearing off the blindfold, and saw half a dozen weary, thin faces staring blankly down at him.

                                                 ✯✯✯

Emma wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, shaking her head to free her vision from the wisps of hair that had escaped her pins. It was crazy, she reflected, to be sweating when it was this cold. The air was frigid. And she had learned that even blood can freeze. 

“How ‘bout a patching job, nurse?” 

She didn’t even turn at the voice. She simply clenched her eyes shut and drew a deep, silent breath. She was so tired. So tired. She was almost afraid to work now for fear that her fingers would fumble and her mind wouldn’t even be able to catch up.

“They’ll… they’ll see to you inside,” she faltered. “I’m on break.” She lowered her face to bury it in her hands, wanting to hide from the world. Her head ached unbearably and she was frozen stiff. If she could only make it back to her cot, she would be fine. The soldier standing behind her hadn’t answered, but she wasn’t worried about him. If he was able to stand and ask for help in a perfectly rational voice, then he wasn’t in any immediate danger. In the next moment, she felt herself wrapped in his embrace. She didn’t even react, just sighed tremblingly as she realized who he was. 

“You’re alive,” she murmured, dropping her head to rest on his chest, the scratchy wool of his overcoat somehow warmer and more comforting than the thought of her blankets back in her tent. 

“Sometimes I wonder,” Josh laughed without humor. “I feel dead.”

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“Just a scratch.”

“Let me see.” Emma pulled back, reaching for his arm. “That is certainly more than a scratch, you idiot. Get in here and let me fix it.” 

“Not yet,” Josh pulled her towards him again. “Right now, just seeing you is all the medicine I need. I’m okay, Em.”

“How is it you always manage to find me in all this chaos?” she whispered into his shoulder. 

“Always? I’ve seen you three times in the past three years.”

“And I haven’t seen Ronnie even once. Where is he?”

“Emma…” Josh’s voice was suddenly stilted and Emma felt her breath catch in alarm. Twisting in his arms, she lifted her face to meet his eyes.

“What’s happened, Scout?”

“That’s just it. I… don’t know.”

“You’re in the same unit,” she spoke flatly. “How do you not know where he is?” She frowned as she watched Josh’s face. He swallowed hard, biting his lip, and took a deep breath.

“Missing,” he stated bluntly. “Missing in action. It’s been just under three weeks.”

“Three... Three weeks? Missing? Oh… Josh…” her face crumpled and she clutched at the folds of his coat desperately. She was ice cold, shivering in the wind. He undid the buttons of his coat with stiff, frozen fingers, pressing her body close against his, wrapping the coat around them both together. She didn’t cry, just clung to him, her eyes squeezed shut and her face pale as death.