Daisies Are Forever Read Online Free PDF Page A

. . .
    “You killed him.”
    “I killed no one.” The unfortunate truth.
    She lunged at him. “My husband was in France, you dog, on the beach. The British killed him.”
    War slapped him in the face. His legs quivered. She would turn him in to the authorities who, busy driving westward, had little time to deal with escaped prisoners. They shot the escapees before they could defend themselves.
    “Go away.” He ground his teeth to keep them from chattering.
    “You killed him.”

FOUR

    February 10
    G isela woke, stiff and cold in the early morning hours, surprised she had slept at all, what with the crying babies and the old man who talked in his sleep. Most of her companions continued to slumber in this dark, freezing attic. Even Renate and Annelies still dreamed. Beside them, the Holtzmann sisters snored. Off in the distance, mortar fire broke the stillness.
    Gisela had left her hairbrush in the cart. The girls needed to have their hair rebraided, and she wanted to work out her own tangles. Compared to all that was happening around them, it was a minor thing, but it would make her feel better. More civilized.
    She rose and Herr Holtzmann stirred beside her. “Where are you going?”
    She bent over him and tucked the blanket around his shoulders. “I need something from my cart. Stay here and stay warm as long as possible. I’ll be back soon.”
    She picked her way over and around the prone, sleeping forms of her fellow refugees. Playing on her tire swing as a child in heryard in California, free and happy, her sister Margot at her side, Gisela never dreamed she would find herself in this kind of situation. Not even when Vater moved them to Germany nine years ago.
    Downstairs, a few women used the small stove. She predicted that within an hour, the kitchen would be packed, humming with women cooking breakfast for their families. Not too many people had roused themselves in the yard yet. Horses munched on a little patch of grass they had uncovered. While a horse and wagon would make their burden much lighter, the animals required food and care. Their bicycles did the job just fine.
    She stopped to think a moment, trying to remember where they had left their belongings the night before. On the far side of the yard, she located their carts.
    But no bicycles.
    Where were they? Gisela pivoted around, sure they would appear.
    Her search yielded nothing.
    This couldn’t be happening. Did they unhitch them and park them somewhere else? No, she would remember doing that. Then again, she had been exhausted.
    She turned and stared at her cart. And at Herr Holtzmann’s. How would they pull them, loaded as they were, without the bicycles? And how would she tell him? Her head spun. She stood with her hands on her hips and closed her eyes, trying to wish this all away. Yes, when she opened her eyes, she would see those bicycles.
    Or better yet, find herself snug and warm and safe in her bed at home.
    One, two, three.
    Nothing.
    She scurried from cart to cart, examining each bicycle. Someone must have mistaken Ella’s for theirs. Many were similar. One looked like it but didn’t have a scratch on the frame. She had fallen one day when the road was muddy and a rock nicked it.
    Only looking at the bikes and not at where she was going, Gisela slammed into an older man, almost knocking him over. She took hold of his arm just in time. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
    The man’s mustache twitched. “No harm done. What are you looking for?”
    Gisela swallowed back the tears. Crying would accomplish nothing. “Our bicycles. Someone stole them during the night. We left them hitched to our carts, but they’re gone. Herr Holtzmann needs that bike.”
    He patted her shoulder with his gnarled hand. “Slow down, fräulein , let me help you.”
    “Have you seen them? Can you help me?”
    But they were nowhere around. They had vanished. She rubbed her throbbing temple.
    Shouting drew her attention. The woman