Page 72 of Winter’s End

Evi reached into the bottom of her knapsack, laid the Colt on the kitchen table.

Mam could not have appeared more dumbstruck if she had laid a suckling pig at her feet.

Evi swallowed. “This was given to me by a friend. He has been teaching me to use it. I thought – in the event we need protection.”

“Protection?Lieve god, Evi, from what?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Evi found herself suddenly outraged. “Gestapo thugs behind you when you insist on navigating narrow canals to deliver supplies to a cave…”

Mam fell into the nearest chair. “You are prepared to shoot them? The Germans?”

“Ja,if I need to.” She held her tongue about the German officers she had shot hours earlier for Jacob. “You can trust me, Mam. I know quite well how to handle this pistol and I will never use it unless I need to.”

She tried to interpret the look on her mother’s face. It was as though she were looking at a stranger.

“Mam,” she began.

“Put it away.”

Evi did not hesitate. She placed the Colt back in the bookbag, stashed the bag under her bed. It was at that moment that she could have sworn she heard a baby cry.

She walked back into the kitchen. Mam was on her feet. The sound came again, louder this time, distinctly the bleat of an infant.

Mam straightened. “I would have told you right off,” she said. “But I was out of my mind with fright, Evi, not knowing if you were alive or dead.”

Without another word, she moved to her sleeping quarters and emerged a moment later, cradling a bundle wrapped in a pale green blanket.

The baby whimpered.

Evi fell into a chair.

“I could not leave him in that cave in Limburg, Evi. The poor baby had no one. His mother took him there to hide from the Germans shortly after he was born …and then she died, Evi…some sort of fever. He cannot be more than two or three weeks old.”

Evi stared, unable to speak.

“They managed to keep him alive, the others in the cave…I do not know how without his mother’s milk. But look…” She peeled away the woolen blanket. The infant was painfully thin.

“And look here…” Mam unfastened the scrap of diaper. “Something is wrong with his thin little legs…or maybe with his little left hip…”

The baby’s left leg seemed oddly splayed. When he kicked, it came up at an angle.

“Do you see?” Mam insisted. “Something is wrong. The child needs help. Evi. How could I leave him in that cave?”

What began as a whimper began to escalate, and soon became a shuddering cry.

Mam moved to the kitchen, where Evi saw, for the first time, three glass baby bottles lined up next to the sink and a tin of powdered formula.

“Where on earth – ?” she began.

“It was providence, Evi. These things were among the donated supplies I picked up and took with me to Limburg – and that was before we had any idea there might be a newborn in hiding…”

Mam turned to her. “Here, Evi. Hold him while I prepare a bottle.”

Startled, Evi settled the bundle on her lap, moved the green blanket aside and stared into a tiny face.

“His name is Jacob.”

Evi’s head swiveled. “What?”