China Blue (The Dudley Sisters Saga Book 3) Madalyn Morgan (books to read in your 30s .TXT) 📖

small of her back, she stretched and looked up. Rays of sunlight streaked through the trees warming her face. After a hot and humid August, September was warm and sunny with a refreshing early morning breeze. She unbuttoned her shirt and, leaning forward, dipped her hands into the cool river. Bringing them up to her throat, she allowed the water to trickle through her fingers onto her breasts. She closed her eyes and with slow circular movements gently rubbed her temples. She rolled her shoulders and with the tips of her fingers massaged the nape of her neck and down her back as far as she was able to reach.

André had arrived that morning on his way back to Gisoir after delivering money to a Resistance group near Fontainebleau. Claire asked him if he had news of Alain. He hadn’t. Pierre put his arm around her, as her father might do, and asked her if it was time she came to terms with possibly never seeing Alain again. Claire had reacted badly. She shouted at Pierre and had to be calmed by his wife, Yvette, who dug her husband in the ribs, saying no news meant good news. Yvette probably didn’t believe it, but it was all Claire had. It wasn’t all, but--

‘Who’s there?’ Sure that she had heard someone, or something, moving in the wood, Claire opened her eyes. Clumsily she got to her feet, stood perfectly still, and listened. She was getting jumpy. ‘What the--?’

‘Shush,’ a man said, behind her. She began to turn round, but wasn’t quick enough. The man put one hand over her mouth and the other round her waist.

Instinctively, she brought her free arm forward and in a flash of anger jerked it back, jabbing her elbow into the man’s ribs. He loosened his grip for a second, giving Claire time to lift her right foot. She brought it down on his shin, scraping the heel of her boot along the bone. The man fell to the ground cursing. Claire took a gun from her pocket and aimed. ‘Frédéric? What the hell were you doing, grabbing me like that? I could have shot you.’

Holding his hands up, Frédéric stumbled to his feet. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were--’

‘What’s going on?’ Pierre shouted, coming out of the woods.

‘If you say anything about-- I will bloody shoot you,’ Claire hissed.

Pierre looked from Frédéric to Claire. He took Claire’s gun and turned to Frédéric. ‘You idiot,’ he said. ‘What were you doing here while Claire was washing?

‘I wanted to say I was sorry that there has been no news of Alain. I didn’t know she was-- I thought she was drinking from the river.’

‘Get out of my sight. Go home. You are finished here.’

Claire quickly buttoned her shirt. ‘Frédéric was being mischievous, Pierre. He didn’t mean to insult me. I wouldn’t have used it,’ she said, when the Resistance leader gave the gun back to her, ‘not on Frédéric.’

‘Creeping up on you like that, how could you know it was him? And what if it had been a German soldier, his aim to cut your throat? Would you wait to see if he was a friend or foe before shooting? I hope not.’ Pierre shook his head.

‘I know Frédéric didn’t think,’ Claire said, ‘but he will from now on.’ Ticking Frédéric off reminded Claire it was dangerous to be on her own in the woods with so many German patrols about. She needed to be more careful. ‘I shouldn’t have come to the woods on my own either. It won’t happen again, Pierre.’ Claire picked up her jacket and slipped her arms down the sleeves. She looked at Pierre. ‘Was there something else?’

‘I came to speak to you about Alain,’ Pierre said. ‘I am sorry for being insensitive. Alain is a strong man, a brave man. He will not give us away.’ Claire wasn’t sure this was what she wanted to hear. Giving resisters away meant torture, but that was not what Pierre meant. She smiled to let him know she accepted his apology. ‘So we are friends again?’ Claire nodded. ‘Good. Shall we go?’

‘Of course, but first-- Sending Frédéric home will mean one of the other men will have to blow up the German troop train tonight.’ As the leader of this Resistance group, Pierre was well aware of what sending Frédéric home would mean. ‘What I’m trying to say is none of the other men have had the experience that Frédéric has. They don’t understand explosives the way he does. Only Marcel knows how to set a detonator and he is not here. So I wondered if you would consider reinstating him.’

‘I don’t want to send him home but his behaviour was reckless.’ Pierre’s brow furrowed. ‘What he did was stupid and dangerous. He’s a hot-head who acts before he thinks. I’m worried that he’ll get himself killed one of these days.’

‘I don’t think he cares about his own life. He hasn’t done since his fiancée was found dead.’ Claire paused, realising she’d said too much. ‘But he cares about the group. He would never do anything to put his comrades in danger. His energy level is a little high now – it always is before a big sabotage job – but tonight he will be calm, focused, and precise setting the detonators. You know he always is.’

‘You are right. I shall go and find him.’ Before he got to the wood, Pierre turned back. ‘You are an attractive woman, Claire. I overheard the men talking. They have great respect for you, but some are young and--’

‘Don’t worry, I can look after myself.’

‘I noticed.’ Claire could see relief on Pierre’s face. ‘I admit that, as angry as I was with Frédéric, I didn’t know what I was going to do without him. I will speak to him immediately. I don’t expect he’ll have left