Shadowed by Grace by Cara Putman Page A

road. “Grazie.”
    He hustled toward the road. Time to get Rachel to shelter. He reached the curve and slowed his pace. Time to be deliberate and make sure no one had joined her. As he eased up to the jeep, he tensed. He couldn’t see Rachel.
    Should he head to the tree? No, examine the jeep first, then head to the rendezvous point. He crept toward the jeep. “Captain Justice?” The word rasped into the silence.
    “Lieutenant?”
    “Everything okay?”
    She uncurled from the tight ball she’d coiled into. No wonder he had missed her. “We’ll spend the night down the path. There’s a farmhouse and a place for us.”
    She nodded. “Are we walking?”
    “No, I’ll move the jeep. Can’t leave it here.”
    Even though he’d checked the house and barn, Scott inched down the lane. He almost backed in so they could leave in a hurry but decided to turn it around as soon as they reached the house.
    When they pulled up to the farmhouse, the farmer waited with a dim lantern casting shadows along the walls. A pallet of blankets rested against the wall. He pointed at it. “You . . .” He folded his hands along his head as if sleeping. “I . . .” He tapped his forehead, as if he would watch.
    Scott nodded. “Grazie.” He turned to Rachel. “You take the blankets. I’ll stick with the jeep.”
    “Are you sure this is safe?” Her gaze darted around the small room.
    Then a woman in a nightgown, blanket clutched around her shoulders, entered the room. “My wife.” The man beamed as he touched his wife’s shoulder. “She . . .” He whipped his hand as if stirring something.
    Rachel’s shoulders relaxed. Did the presence of the woman make her feel safer? “You all right here?”
    “I will be. Thanks.” She climbed over to the blankets and eased down onto them. Her eyes closed, and she fell asleep in an instant.
    “I sleep.” He pointed outside, then bowed a bit toward the couple and slipped away. It wouldn’t be comfortable, but when he returned to Naples, he could say with full honesty a couple and a door stood between them.
    That was the best he could do. It had to be enough.

    The couple whispered, their melodic Italian wrapping around Rachel as she tried to relax. As soon as she heard Scott leave, her body seemed determined to stay awake.
    She’d come to Italy to find her father.
    A man she knew so little about. When she got back to her hotel room, she needed to dig deeper through the journal and diary to find any clue that identified him. If today was any indication, she couldn’t count on what the next day would bring.
    Rachel tried to draw in a deep breath, but her ribs protested. She’d hit the steering wheel hard. While she hadn’t wanted to worry the lieutenant, she’d feel sore for a while.
    Was this even a shadow of how her momma felt as she battled tuberculosis? Rachel hadn’t received any letters from her mother in the month since she’d left the States. Worry kept pricking her. Was Momma still alive? The alternative crimped her heart.
    Someone touched her shoulder, and she opened her eyes. Maybe she’d dozed after all.
    “Signorina?”
    Rachel rubbed her hair from her face, her thoughts foggy and her torso battered. Where was she? A farmhouse somewhere in Italy. A rumble sounded outside, vibrations snaking through the floor and into her body.
    “Lieutenant? Is he here?” Her voice croaked as the wife helped her to her feet and directed her out back, not seeming to understand her question. Rachel searched for him but didn’t see him on her way to the outhouse. When Rachel returned, the woman shoved a package in her hand.
    “Cibo.”
    “Thank you for the food.” Rachel hurried out the front door. Where was Scott? If he left her, she didn’t know what she’d do. Another explosion rumbled somewhere. It was close enough to curdle her blood.
    “Miss Justice, are you ready?” Scott moved with efficient, hurried movements as he readied the jeep.
    “Yes.”
    “Then let’s be off.