Marie and Frost sat in silence while the organist played another hymn. When it ended, Frost nudged her, and she followed him through a short maze of hallways and out a side exit. Taking her arm, he guided her to a secluded corner of the building.
Butterflies filled her stomach as she realized this could be the last time she’d ever see him. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself into the role of Allied agent. That’s who she was, or at least who she was supposed to be.
“The jacket. You ripped the lining.”
“You noticed that, did you?”
“I didn’t realize anything was inside. If it was something . . .” She glanced away, hating the way her voice trembled. “Whose side are you on?”
“I fight for my countrymen who hate what the world believes about us. And against those who have no regard for life. I fight for beauty.” The muscle in his cheek twitched. “You needn’t fear, little Sparrow. What I recovered from the jacket will not cause harm to the Allies. That’s all I can tell you, at least for now. Perhaps someday, when all this is past.”
“Do we have a someday?”
“I pray so.”
She blinked back sudden tears and bit her lip. Prayer. She longed to believe God was listening to all the prayers people were sending His way.
“I have to go,” he said.
She searched for something to say, something to keep him with her a little longer. “The flowers were from you, weren’t they? The forget-me-nots. Did you see the play?”
“I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. Especially when you danced.”
“I was thinking of you.”
Frost grinned. “Always, Sparrow. Always remember me when you twirl.” He took her hand, and she twirled beneath his upraised arm. Then he drew her close, his voice a gentle whisper. “When the war is over, where can I find you?”
“I . . . I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
“Here. Someday we will meet again here.” He hugged her tight, whispered, “Auf wiedersehen,” then disappeared around the corner.
She leaned against the building, dabbing her eyes with the handkerchief and staining it with her mascara.
She turned it to find a clean spot and found a monogrammed H in the corner.
If only she knew the name that went with the scripted letter.
Christian Fiction Friday is a weekly blog hop where authors post snippets from their current works in progress. It is hosted by Alana Terry and Hallee Bridgeman. Click here for a full list of rules and suggestions.