When Tides Turn Page 19

Nora straightened to standing. “I’ll think about it. Next poster?”

  As she unfurled the poster, Tess had to laugh. “Freedom of Speech.” A man stood in a town hall meeting, boldly speaking his mind. “A message from above?”

  “Don’t read too much into it.” But Nora smiled again.

  She’d run out of posters, so they went outside, where Mary and Lillian waited for them.

  Lillian grinned. “We hung ‘Freedom from Want’ inside the cafeteria.”

  Tess laughed. The grandma serving a huge turkey to her family should remind the workers of how America was blessed with food, even with the new rationing of meat, oils, and canned goods.

  A worker jostled by the ladies, his hand cupped to his mouth. “Hey, Wally! You oughta see. Big old carrier pulling in to the South Annex. Don’t see many of those around here.”

  Tess’s heart flipped. “A carrier?”

  “I wonder if it’s Dan’s.” Lillian’s face brightened, and she headed down the pier. “Let’s get a better look.”

  “I doubt it. The Bogue is operating out of Newfoundland, from what I understand, and her home port is down at Norfolk.” But Tess followed her friends to the end of the pier.

  She shielded her eyes from the bright afternoon sunshine. The clear sky allowed her to see past downtown to the Navy Yard’s South Boston Annex.

  “The south jetty is big enough for a carrier,” Mary said. “Oh, I wish it were Jim’s ship, but he’s on the other side of the world.”

  Lillian pointed. “I see it.”

  Tess did too, a tiny gray silhouette against the dark landscape, long and flat and too high to be a barge. Not many carriers sailed the Atlantic, but the chances of it being the Bogue . . . ?

  “I hope it’s Dan’s ship,” Lillian said.

  “Me too.” Tess’s voice came out ragged with longing.

  Mary slapped her hand over her mouth, but a giggle bubbled out. Nora joined in the laughter.

  Lillian laughed too. “So it’s true? I wondered.”

  “She hides it well.” Mary winked. “Most of the time.”

  Tess groaned, her cheeks aflame. “Oh no. Please don’t say anything. He mustn’t know.”

  Nora planted her hands on her hips. “Weren’t you the one telling me to be open and honest?”

  “This is different.” Since all the posters had been hung, Tess led the way back to the war bond office. “Lillian, you know your brother. You called him a ship-monk. He’s vowed never to marry, never to let a woman drag him down. Mary, you’ve heard him too, I know it.”

  “I have.” But Mary was smiling.

  Tess watched her footing as she crossed the tracks for the giant cranes. “I can’t imagine Dan Avery going against his convictions. He’s as immovable as the sea he loves.”

  “Immovable?” Lillian giggled. “The sea? Have you ever heard of the tides?”

  “True, and have you noticed?” Mary nudged Lillian. “Dan never leaves her side.”

  “I did. I’ve never seen him like this.”

  Tess stopped and held up her hands like a policeman. “Enough! You’re imagining things. We’re just friends, colleagues. You need to keep your mouths shut. No winks, no nudges, no teasing glances. Please? It’s very important.”

  Mary inclined her head and studied Tess. “It’s not like you to linger in unrequited love.”

  “I know.” She continued on the way, passing the lawn where she’d hold the war bond rally on Monday. The workers had set up a stage, and Tess planned to decorate it tomorrow after church.

  “So why—”

  “This is where I’m supposed to be,” Tess said. “It—it humbles me. Mary, you know what I was like, always looking for adoration.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.”

  Tess gave her a fond smile. “You’re too good a friend. But it’s true. I liked Hugh because he adored me. I liked Clifford, that scoundrel, because he fawned over me. That isn’t love. It’s selfishness.”

  “Don’t talk that way.” Mary’s voice was too soothing.

  She shook it off. “Dan only wants my friendship. And that’s all right. If I love him, I’ll want what’s best for him. And he believes remaining a bachelor is best. How can I push myself on him? That wouldn’t be love. So I need to love him in other ways, by encouraging him and being a friend.”

  “Oh, sweetie—”

  “Don’t feel sorry for me.” Tess swung a searing gaze at her three friends. “I’m content. This is good for me. Now do you understand why I have to hide my feelings?”

  Nora nodded. “I do.”

  “I suppose,” Mary said. “But I still think—”

  “No. Not one more word about it.” Tess paused outside the war bond office. “Such lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it?”

  Her friends laughed at the change in subject. After all, spring warmth hadn’t arrived with the sunshine.

  “So what shall we do?” Mary asked. “We have the rest of the afternoon free.”

  Tess didn’t, but she refused to be a killjoy.

  Nora shielded her eyes and gazed up Breed’s Hill. “Someday I’d like to climb the Bunker Hill Monument.”

  “I’ll warn you—there are 294 steps,” Mary said.

  “If I can do it, the rest of you can.” Lillian inched out her prosthetic foot.

  Nora’s eyes brightened. “How about right now?”

  “Oh yes, please go,” Tess said. “I have some more work today with the War Loan Drive starting Monday, but I’ve already climbed the monument. Here, Mary, I’ll take your box back to the apartment. I need a break.” She silenced protests with grins and took Mary’s box, filled with hammers and nails and rolls of tape.

  “You won’t need a key,” Mary said. “Yvette can let you in.”

  “Didn’t she go away this weekend?”

  “No.” Mary’s mouth puckered. “It was the oddest thing. She said they had the weekend off.”

  “Off? You take the weekend off from work, not from a romantic getaway.”

  “I teased her about the same thing, but she said she has problems with English idioms.”

  “I suppose so.” But not like that.

  They passed through the gate and climbed Tremont Street. Monument Square opened before them with its tall granite obelisk that memorialized the men who’d died for freedom.

  Tess waved good-bye to her friends and carried the box down Monument Avenue. Idioms or no idioms, if Agent Sheffield said Yvette was clean, she was clean. Tess had to resist the urge to investigate. She’d promised the FBI.

  She climbed the steps to her old apartment and raised her fist to knock.

  A loud thump. A grunt.

  Tess sucked in her breath and reached for the doorknob.

  “That is right, my love,” Henri said, his voice muffled by the door. “But next time grab the knife first.”

  Tess clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp. What on earth?

  “All right. Let me try again,” Yvette said.

  Eavesdropping wasn’t the same as following, so Tess edged closer, her ear turned to the door.

  “Remember, just as we learned,” Henri said. “I grab you around the shoulders, pinning your arms, knife ready to slit your pretty throat, and you—”

  A thud, a loud masculine grunt, then laughter. “Yes, that’s exactly what you do. Very good.”

  Oh goodness. What were they doing? Tess’s hand pressed hard over her mouth.

  “Your turn, my love,” Yvette said. “See if you can do as well as I did.”

  “I always do.”

  “Good. This is . . . this is important. We may need to use this.”

  “We will,” Henri said. “And soon.”

  “June. We’re leaving June 1, thank goodness. I can’t stand it here any longer. I can’t.”

  “Remember. Don’t tell anyone, even Mary and Lillian.”

  Their voices lowered, and Tess’s pulse hammered in her ears, drowning all sound. They’d have to use skills with a
knife? And soon? They were leaving town and couldn’t tell anyone? Why not?

  The possibilities slammed around in her skull, but only one rang true.

  They were spies. But for whom? Maybe they were training with the OSS. Maybe that’s why they went away every weekend and Yvette always came home exhausted. The so-called trips to Cape Cod were a ruse.

  Tess set the box outside the door and padded down the stairs. Oh, please, Lord. Let it be true.

  Because she couldn’t bear the thought that they were Nazis.

  31

  Boston

  Sunday, April 11, 1943

  Dan paced the sidewalk in front of Park Street Church, trying not to stare at the subway station entrance.

  “I’m surprised you came today.” Bill Bentley leaned against the wrought-iron fence by the church’s front steps. “I’d think you’d be at the office. You should see the pile of work Randolph dumped on your desk. He refuses to let me do it. Insists it has to be you.”

  A muscle tightened in Dan’s neck, and he strode the other way. “Of course. Then the work is late, and who looks bad? Me.”

  “Yet you’re here.”

  “I need to be at church. I need a day off.” Even if he hadn’t wanted to see Tess so badly, he’d still refuse to work.

  The sidewalk was filling with churchgoers, and Bill craned his neck toward the subway entrance.

  So Dan wasn’t the only one waiting for a lady. “Have you asked Nora out yet?”

  Bill spun to him, light blue eyes wide. Then his face clouded over. “Never had a chance. She hasn’t returned my calls, and she hasn’t come to church since the Navy changed the rules.”

  Dan winced. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m used to it.” Bill glanced away, cool and indifferent. Then he stilled, staring across the street. “I guess she decided to reject me in person.”

  Nora emerged from the subway entrance, wearing her navy-blue overcoat and cover. And so did Tess, a beam of sunshine aimed Dan’s way.

  His throat clamped shut. Time for the first step in his pursuit—to show her how happy he was to see her and to gauge her reaction.

  He pulled in a breath, strode down the sidewalk, and released the muscles that restrained his smile.

  Then she saw him. She paused, but he didn’t and he let that smile crack his stubborn cheeks.

  Tess dashed to him, grinning, curls bouncing. “Dan! You’re here!”

  “Hello, Tess.” For one wonderful moment, he thought she’d hug him, and he tried to reach for her, but his hands tangled in his pockets.

  A flicker of alarm, and she stopped short. Then her grin returned, flooding her face with light. “We thought we saw your ship yesterday. Lillian thought it was yours, but I didn’t think it was possible. But it is. And you—you’re smiling?”

  He hadn’t stopped. “I’m glad to be here. It’s good to see you.”

  She studied his face with curiosity and wonder. “Well, I’ll be. Time at sea was good for you.”

  “It was.” But not as good as seeing her again.

  “I don’t understand. Why is the Bogue in Boston?”

  His mouth returned to normal. “Our catapult’s damaged. We were supposed to go to Philadelphia for repairs, but they rerouted us here.” A sweet gift from the Lord.

  “Wonderful. How long are you here?”

  “That’s up to Commander Lewis. The repairs will take one week, maybe two, but the commander decides if I’ll be aboard.”

  “Dan!” Lillian hurtled to him and flung her arms around his waist.

  “Hi there, Lilliput.” He worked his hands free and hugged her back. He’d rather have Tess in his arms, but at least he’d show he was capable of some affection.

  For good measure, he hugged his sister-in-law too. “Hi, Mary.”

  “Welcome back to shore.” Arch shook his hand. “I have to say I’m envious. I’ve been following the battle at sea in the papers. You must have stories to tell.”

  “Not as many as I’d like.”

  “Oh?” Tess asked.

  His gaze swung past Bill, Arch, Lillian, Mary, Nora, and straight to Tess. “We escorted two convoys. Both times the weather didn’t allow the destroyers to refuel. Both times we had to detach from the convoy prematurely. Both times the convoys were attacked only hours after we detached.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “We only sighted one U-boat, but the attack failed.”

  “Then the auxiliary carriers did what you thought they would.” Intelligence sparked in Tess’s golden-green eyes. “While you were there, you kept the subs at bay.”

  Dan dipped his head to one side. “Very likely, but we were just entering their hunting grounds. We don’t have enough data to draw that conclusion yet.”

  “Well, I’m convinced,” Arch said. “Whenever an aircraft is overhead, subs dive, and a submerged U-boat is too slow to keep up with a convoy. We need more of those jeep carriers.”

  “We’re building them as fast as we can,” Mary said with a smile.

  Dan’s smile worked its way up again. What fascinating times when men and women could converse together about naval tactics and shipbuilding.

  “Since everyone’s here . . . I have an announcement.” Lillian’s eyes glowed in a new way. She glanced at Arch—who shared the same glow—and she pulled off her left glove.

  All the women gasped and squealed.

  Another engagement? Dan blinked, but diamonds continued to glitter on his sister’s ring finger.

  “He asked me last night.” Lillian leaned closer to her fiancé.

  Arch slipped his arm around her waist. “She agreed to be my wife. For richer or poorer.”

  With the Vandenberg wealth, “poorer” wouldn’t be a problem, but the couple’s chuckles suggested a private joke.

  “I wish Jim could be here.” Mary dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “His sister and his best friend. He’ll be so happy. What am I saying? I’m so happy.” She embraced Lillian and then Arch.

  Congratulations and hugs and solid handshakes flew around. Dan sent a grin Tess’s way, and she responded with a gleeful smile and clap and shoulder lift. Maybe the news would put her in a romantic mood.

  First it was time for church.

  Dan was careful to stay by Tess’s side as they entered the sanctuary, careful to sit beside her, to share a hymnal with her, and to let his shoulder rest against hers from time to time.

  She didn’t pull away.

  In fact, for the closing hymn, she leaned into him, pointed to the title, and covered a chuckle with her fingertips.

  The hymn, “Jesus, Savior, Pilot Me,” had a nautical theme appropriate for the sailors, merchant marines, and Navy families in the pews. Dan joined in heartily.

  Jesus, Savior, pilot me over life’s tempestuous sea:

  Unknown waves before me roll, hiding rocks and treach’rous shoal;

  Chart and compass come from Thee—Jesus, Savior, pilot me!

  As a mother stills her child, Thou canst hush the ocean wild;

  Boist’rous waves obey Thy will when Thou say’st to them, “Be still!”

  Wondrous Sov’reign of the sea, Jesus, Savior, pilot me!

  Unknown waves did indeed roll before him. Yes, Lord, pilot me. Show me the bearing. Tell me when to speed up and when to stop my engines. Be my only compass.

  After the benediction, the group filed out of the pews, down the stairs, and onto the sidewalk. Dan swept his arm in a grand gesture. “The city awaits. What fun excursion shall we have today?”

  Lillian laughed. “I never thought I’d hear you talk like that.”

  “It’s tradition, isn’t it?”

  “It’s also tradition for you to sneak away to your office.”

  “Not anymore. It’s a day of rest, and I refuse to work. So what’s the plan?”

  Everyone turned to Tess.

  Her eyes danced between mischief and guilt. “I’m setting up the stage for tomorrow’s War Loan Drive rally at the Navy Yard.�
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  Dan gave her a teasing look. “Sounds like work to me.”

  “You don’t have to come, but I intend to make it a party. We’ll have sandwiches and potato salad at Mary and Lillian’s place first.”

  “Very well.” Dan directed his admiral’s gaze around the group. “Who’s on board?”

  “I am.”

  “I don’t have a choice.”

  Bill sent a challenging look to Nora. They hadn’t spoken to each other yet. “I’m in.”

  Nora gazed at her shoes. “Me too.”

  Dan snapped his best salute to Tess. “Your crew reports for duty, Captain.”

  “Captain? Ooh, I like that.”

  “I thought I was the ambitious one in this crowd.” He motioned for her to take the lead, and he fell in by her side.

  “Mr. Bentley?” Nora’s voice cracked. “Bill? May I have a word with you?”

  A pause, and Dan resisted the urge to look behind him. “Yes,” Bill said.

  Tess wore a small, secretive smile. Maybe Bill wouldn’t have his heart broken today. Even if he did, at least Nora had the guts to speak her mind.

  They trotted down the stairs to the subway, and Dan paid the fare for the group. Down more stairs and tunnels, and they boarded the train bound for North Station.

  Dan swung in to the seat beside Tess. She gave him an unusually nervous smile for her, and Dan had to remind himself to smile back. It would be hard to break this habit.

  As the train pulled away from the platform, Tess’s gaze roamed his face. “I’ve never seen you smile so much.”

  “Time at sea makes you think, helps you see clearly.”

  “What did you think about, Dan Avery?”

  She didn’t want to know. Not yet. Probably not ever. But she did want to know why he was smiling. “When I was a boy, helping my family, I needed to be taken seriously. So I acted serious. Playing, laughing, smiling—those were for boys. And I was a man.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I actually am a man. People take me seriously. I decided I can smile a little.” He put on a mock stern face. “Not a lot, mind you. And never on duty.”

  “Of course not.” She looked at him from under the bill of her cover. “No merriness on duty, Mr. Avery.”

  “No danger of that when Mr. Randolph’s around. But—” He raised one finger. “It’s the Sabbath, and there will be no talk of ASWU.”