Echoes Page 0,119

in the night before.

There were two more like it over the next weeks. And three in September where they brought men in. In one case the plane landed. In the other two they parachuted in, and one of the men got hurt. He sprained his ankle badly, and they hid him on the farm. Amadea ministered to him until he was well enough to leave.

It was October before German soldiers came to visit them. They were just checking the farms, and their papers. They looked at Amadea's, and her heart nearly stopped. But they handed them back to her without comment, took some fruit away in baskets, and moved on. It was obvious that Jean-Yves's aunt was badly crippled with arthritis and they needed a girl to help. And her husband was old too. Nothing seemed out of order to them.

She told Jean-Yves about it that night. They were on their way to another mission. They picked up more weapons and ammunition, and some radios that night.

“I was scared to death,” she admitted to him.

“So am I sometimes,” he said honestly. “No one wants to get shot.”

“I'd rather get shot than go back where I was, or worse,” she confessed.

“You're a very brave girl,” he said, looking at her in the moonlight.

He liked working with her, and talking to her. He came by at night sometimes just to talk. He got lonely now that his brothers were gone. She was easy to talk to, and she had a good heart. He liked the rest of her as well, but he never said that to her. He didn't want to offend her, or scare her off. She talked about the convent a lot. It was all she knew now, and she missed it a great deal. He loved her innocence, and her strength at the same time. She was an odd combination of things. She never shirked work or responsibility, and wasn't afraid to take risks. She was as brave as any of the men. The others had commented on it too long since. They respected her, as did he.

She worked on every mission with them through the fall and into the winter. He taught her to use the shortwave radio, and how to load a gun. He taught her to shoot in his uncle's field. She was a surprisingly good shot. She had good reflexes and quick wits. And steady hands. And above all, a kind heart.

Two days before Christmas, she helped him transport four Jewish boys to Lyon. Father Jacques had promised to take them in, and then couldn't. He was afraid to jeopardize the others, so they took them to Jean Moulin, just the two of them, and came back alone. One of the boys had been sick, and she held him in her arms and took care of him.

“You're a wonderful woman, Amélie,” Jean-Yves said as they drove back to Melun. They were stopped by soldiers on the way, and their papers were checked, as the soldier glanced in. “She's my girlfriend,” he said casually, and the soldier nodded.

“Lucky guy.” He smiled. “Merry Christmas.” And waved them on.

“Sale boche,” Jean-Yves said as he drove off, and then he looked at her. “I wish it were true.” She wasn't paying attention, she was thinking of the sick boy and hoped he would recover. He had been hidden in a hand-dug tunnel for three months, and had a fierce case of bronchitis as a result. He was lucky to be alive.

“What?”

“I said I wish it were true that you're my girlfriend.”

“No, you don't.” She looked startled. “Don't be silly.” She sounded like a mother as she spoke, and he grinned and looked like a kid, instead of a man who was risking his life for France constantly.

“Yes, I do. And it's not silly. What's silly is you locking yourself up in a convent for the rest of your life. Now that's silly.”

“No, it's not. It's the life I want.”

“Why? What are you afraid of? What are you hiding from? What's so terrible out here?” He was almost shouting at her, but he had been in love with her for months, and he was frustrated by the way things were. They sounded like two children arguing as they drove along on the way home.

“I'm not hiding from anything. I believe in what I'm doing. I love the convent, and being a nun.” She was almost pouting as she crossed her arms, as though slipping them into her habit. She still