“You should take me out to dinner,” she teased.
“Are you hungry?”
“Not now.” Giddiness tickled through her, making her laugh as she threaded her hand into the warm crook of his elbow. “I mean the way other couples do.”
“They do that to get to know one another.” He bowed his head toward her, and the light spice of his aftershave left her with a heady sensation. “We already know each other.” He studied her then as he did a calculation. “Yes, dinner.” The suddenness of an answer fully realized. “I’ll make reservations.”
It was the first of many wonderful Parisian meals shared together with richly flavored sauces, tender meats, and confections that were as artistic as they were decadent. Meals Elaine could not think of now, not when the twist of hunger in her belly was so sharp.
But Joseph had kept his promise to her, never prying into her bank account. Not even after forbidding her involvement in the Resistance.
“Ah, the rain has cleared,” Nicole said beside her, startling Elaine from her reverie. “The weather will be ideal for walking.”
If anyone had asked, that was why they had come to the outskirts of Lyon, to take in the scenery together.
The tram slowed to a stop, and they disembarked, arm in arm as they made their way toward the forest. After so long in the bustle of the city, the silence of the woods around them was exquisite and called to attention the unfettered chirp of birds and the tranquil rustle of leaves.
“Have you seen the Maquis before?” Nicole asked.
“I’ve only ever heard of them.” Elaine considered the foliage with a new perspective, half anticipating traps to be laid and men to be standing in the shadows with archaic weapons brandished. “Are they as wild as the Nazis claim?”
Nicole led the way in a pair of flat-soled shoes. “They live out here, but they are not as barbaric as they are made out to be.” She pushed a strand of blond hair from her face, frowning. “Many are very young.”
Elaine tilted her head to look up at the flecks of golden sunlight glinting through the copse of trees. It would be so easy to close her eyes and pretend like the world was right once more. That Joseph was home waiting for her, that they had enough food in their bellies, that Lucie had never been dragged away by the Nazis, and that they all lived without the constant presence of fear.
“Denise’s husband is out here,” Nicole said in a quiet voice despite them being alone. “It is why she does not come. She is afraid she will never leave if she sees him.”
Elaine nodded in understanding. If she was in Joseph’s arms with his familiar comfort embracing her, his gentle voice in her ears, the scent of his aftershave surrounding her, it would be like tearing her soul apart to walk away again.
A figure emerged from between the densely crowded trees, his movements so silent, he was more an apparition than a man. At least until they were directly in front of him. His shirt and trousers were dingy and stained with dirt, both so large, they hung from his lanky frame. The soft fuzz of dark hair showed on the crest of his chin and along his upper lip. Nicole’s assessment of the Maquis being very young seemed correct.
These weren’t men, but boys. Ones who ought to be planning out their education and doing foolish pranks together. But then, theirs was a world where many had to grow up before their time; where childhood was ephemeral, shadowed by the daily dangers they faced.
The boy grinned at them, oblivious to the harsh odor of his unwashed body, and handed a heavy bag to Nicole that was filled with paper-wrapped parcels. “Gifts for the Bosche.” He withdrew something from his pocket. “And a little something for you as well.”
Nicole gasped and took the small package from his hand. “Chocolate,” she breathed. “You divine man, thank you.” Without hesitation, she leaned forward and placed a kiss on his gaunt cheek, leaving a blazing imprint of her red lips.