Ruby slipped out of the Dachers’ apartment with Charlotte’s words ringing in her ears. Your pilot. The mere thought of him belonging to her was enough to make her light-headed. But she was being foolish, and she knew it.

She drew a deep breath and forced herself back to reality before opening the door to her own apartment. Inside, it smelled like someone was cooking, but that was impossible. “Thomas?”

“In here.”

She rounded the corner to the kitchen to find two candles lit on the table and Thomas standing at the stove. “What are you doing?” she asked.

He turned and smiled. “I hope you don’t mind. I’m making us a meal. Charlotte gave me a bit of bread and cheese. It’s not much, but my mother always said I had a special talent with cheese on toast. I thought we might bring half to the Dachers and share the rest between us.”

She just stared at him, sure this was some kind of a mirage. Never in all the time she’d spent with Marcel had he ever offered to cook for her. No man had done that. She knew the bread was likely stale and the cheese was probably old, but somehow, it smelled like the most delicious thing in the world.

“Sit down,” Thomas said, turning back to the stove. “Make yourself comfortable. I wish I could offer you a glass of wine, but alas, all I have is water.”

“Wait, I have some wine,” Ruby said. She’d been saving the last of Marcel’s collection for a special occasion, but this was just that, wasn’t it? She went to the cupboard in the parlor and rummaged in the back until she found a bottle of 1937 Bordeaux. “Will this do?” she asked, returning to the kitchen.

Thomas raised his eyebrows and grinned. “If you’re sure you want to open it, I think it would elevate the meal to a proper feast.”

THE OPEN-FACED SANDWICH THAT THOMAS prepared was one of the best things Ruby had ever eaten, and by the time they’d made it through the bottle of wine, they were sitting on the couch side by side, sharing stories of their childhoods. Ruby told him about the time she got lost in the poppy fields the year she was five and how frightened she’d been, and Thomas chuckled and told her about how he’d been the same age when he wandered off one afternoon in London, scaring his poor parents half to death. They talked about school and their childhood dreams; Ruby had wanted to be a teacher, and Thomas had hoped to be a doctor.

“I always loved science,” he explained. “And I like taking care of people. It seemed like a logical path to follow. In fact, I had already taken several courses in anticipation of continuing on to medical school.”

“So why didn’t you?”

He sighed. “The war happened. I wanted a chance to help. I had just finished university when I decided to enlist.”

“Do you think you’ll go back to school? Become a doctor someday?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. A doctor is supposed to save lives, but I’ve had to take them. I’m not sure how that has changed who I am.”

“Things are different in wartime. And you’re fighting for a greater good.”

“But there must be Germans who feel that way too. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the sky, Ruby, it’s that absolutely nothing is black and white. And as a doctor, I think you’re supposed to see the world a bit more scientifically. I’m just not sure that’s the person I am anymore.”

“But maybe, in a way, you’ve become a better person. After all, it’s the nuances that make the world beautiful, isn’t it?” Her cheeks warmed as Thomas held her gaze.

“And how about you?” he asked. “Do you still want to be a schoolteacher?”

“A year ago, I would have said no. But I’ve been working with Charlotte, helping her to learn English, and it has reminded me how much I love education. Knowledge is power, especially in times like these.”

Thomas nodded. “Talking of Charlotte, she mentioned something to me when I was in her apartment earlier,” he said. “It’s my fault; I was asking about you, and I’m afraid I pried more than I intended.”

Ruby blinked a few times. “What did she say?”

“She told me about the baby. I’m so very sorry, Ruby.”

Ruby felt suddenly numb, cold. She was glad, in a way, that Thomas knew. She had wanted to tell him the night before, but she hadn’t known how to say the words.

When she didn’t say anything, he went on. “He’s who you were talking about last night, isn’t he? You said that you felt as if you’d failed because you couldn’t save him.”

The tears were falling now, and she didn’t bother to pretend otherwise. “He came too early. I wasn’t strong enough.”

“Ruby.” He reached for her hands and waited until she looked at him. “I can’t even imagine the pain of a loss like that. But you must know that it wasn’t your fault.”

“But a mother’s most important job is to protect her child.”

“Sometimes that’s impossible, though. I know you well enough now to know that you did everything you could to keep that baby safe, didn’t you?”

Ruby nodded, feeling miserable.

“Sometimes, God’s plans are different from ours, and it’s impossible to know why,” Thomas said. “I need to ask something of you, Ruby.”

She looked up, startled. He was asking her a favor in the midst of a conversation like this? “All right.”

“I need you to forgive yourself.”

“Thomas—”

“Please, let me finish. You can carry the sadness with you, but not the guilt. Guilt will eat you alive, and in this case, there’s no reason for it. It’s not my business, Ruby, but if there’s one thing I hope for you, it’s that you’ll try to let go of the feeling that you failed, because you didn’t. I want the best for you. I want you to be happy. And I don’t think you will be, not entirely, until you lay this burden down.”

When he was done speaking, she stared at him for a long time. “I’ll try,” she whispered at last. “But why do you care? We’ll probably never see each other again.”

“The war will end someday, Ruby,” Thomas replied. “And Paris isn’t so far away from London.”

Ruby let herself imagine a future where they could have all the time in the world to get to know each other. But that simply wasn’t realistic. What were the chances that an RAF pilot and an American girl in Paris would find their way back to each other? She settled for saying, “It’s a nice thought, Thomas. A very nice thought.”

They talked long into the night, until Ruby’s eyelids grew heavy. Finally, she glanced at the clock on the mantel and stood up. “You have a long journey ahead of you tomorrow. You must get some sleep.”

He stood too, and she was struck anew by the sheer size of him, the way her head would fit perfectly against his solid chest. He took a step closer, and she held her breath. In a split second, his lips were on hers, soft and tender. He laced a large hand through her hair, cradling the back of her head as he pulled her toward him, and she kissed him back, although she knew it was foolish. But it felt perfect and right, and she didn’t want the moment to end.

When he finally backed away, he looked dazed. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

Ruby looked into his eyes. “I’m very glad you did.”

“Well then.” He kissed her again, more intensely, and this time, it was Ruby who broke away.

“Thomas, we must get some sleep,” she said.

“Yes, yes, of course.”

Ruby hesitated. “Good night, then. And thank you for a lovely dinner.” She walked into her bedroom without looking back, but after she closed the door behind her, she stayed there, listening. She yearned to go to him, and she wondered if on the other side of the wall, he was feeling the same way. If he came to her door, she would let him in, even if it was against her better judgment.

But he didn’t. And after a while, her heart heavy with longing for something she knew she could never have, she crawled into bed and stared at the ceiling until dawn arrived.

CHAPTER TWENTY

October 1941

“Fleur?” The dark-haired woman standing outside Ruby’s door was early. Too early. She was also too beautiful. Ruby knew that was a ridiculous thing to think, especially since the woman’s voluptuous curves, bee-stung lips, and large green eyes probably made her an asset to the Resistance, keeping the German soldiers distracted. But Ruby hated the idea of handing Thomas off to her, especially after the kiss they’d shared last night.

“I’m sorry, you are Fleur?” the woman repeated more uncertainly. Ruby could tell from her accent that she was French, but her beauty seemed foreign somehow, exotic.

“Yes. And you must be . . . ?”

“Laure. I’m here for the package.” The woman smiled slightly, which unfortunately made her look even lovelier. “Philippe sent me,” she added when Ruby still hadn’t said anything.

“Oh yes, of course.” Ruby forced a smile. Aubert’s cover name.

“And you have the package?” Laure was regarding Ruby warily now.

“One moment, please.” Ruby shut the door on Laure, knowing it was rude, but not particularly caring. She wanted a few seconds alone with Thomas.

“That’s her?” His voice came from behind her, where he stood wearing Marcel’s clothes. “The woman who will take me to the next stop on the line?”