Read Cold Lonely Courage (Madeleine toche Series Book 2) for Free Online Page B

answered.
    “The Basque hate the Nazis as only a Basque can hate. Many of our friends and family were burned alive in the cellars of Guernica when the bastards were practicing Blitzkrieg in 1937. There were only 5,000 people in the town, but they still sent wave after wave of bombers to level it. When the buildings were blown up, the pilots strafed the streets and forced everyone into underground shelters. Then they dropped incendiary bombs to see if they could burn the people out.”
    “I remember something about that from the papers,” Madeleine said.
    “We Basque know Franco punished us for our opposition to him in the Civil War. What they did to Guernica was his retaliation.”
    “Did you fight in the war, Jacques?”
    “I tried to enlist, but they said I was too old. So I did my part by smuggling people out and guns in when I could. I know the coastline very well.”
    “If you don’t mind my asking, how did you end up in La Ciotat?”
    “How does anyone end up anywhere? I met someone. Provence is just around the corner for a fisherman. I also fell in love with the towns and the ports along the coast. It’s simple. I went there, fell in love and stayed.”
    “Will I be the only woman on board your nephew’s trawler?”
    “Not if one of the wives finds out and gets a look at you,” Jacques said with a chuckle. “I’m kidding, they’ll love you. My nephew’s wife Alize cooks on board. You’ll like her. She’s a bit older than you and will welcome another woman along,” Jacques said.
    “Does she speak French?”
    “Her French is pretty good. She’s from the Basque area that reaches into France.”
    “Good. I could use someone to talk to after everything that’s happened.”
    “She’s strong willed. God knows she’ll admire your courage and what you’ve done,” Jacques said reaching onto the console to tap the side of the marine compass. “We should be there by late afternoon. I don’t see any weather that would slow us down.”
    “You must have been up all night. Aren’t you tired?” Madeleine said.
    “Not yet. I’ve got my cigarettes and coffee. I’ll sleep when we make port and you’re on your way. But you should get some more sleep if you can. You have a long road ahead.”
    “I know,” Madeleine said, looking out over the bow. “The hard part is I don’t know where the road leads.”
    “You’ll find your way,” Jacques said handing her a cigarette.
    “I have to,” Madeleine said. “It’s the only road home.”
    Madeleine went below and tried to sleep, but the strong Basque coffee kept her awake. She lay in the cramped bunk, thinking of her parents so suddenly alone. They would never see Yves again, and surely they must be wondering if she would ever come home. Tears filled her eyes, but she forced them back. She would be strong, a daughter of France. The time for tears was past. Eventually she dozed, snapping awake when the steady throb of engines quieted. They had arrived.
    She came up on deck to the glow of the setting sun shining onto brightly colored buildings that faced the sea. Long rows of boats were moored in the deep water port that had been busy for hundreds of years.
    “How will you find your family?” Madeleine asked, stepping out of the wheelhouse onto the deck.
    “They’re here, or they will be soon. This is where they offload their catch. They’re never out more than a day or so,” Jacques said, deftly stepping off the gunwale onto the dock, slipping a heavy looped rope onto an iron stanchion, securing the boat. “I’m going to look for their boat. I think you should stay on board for now. If I don’t find them shortly, I’ll be back.”
    “I’ll be here.”
    Jacques walked the short distance from the dock to the main pier. He seems to know where he’s going, Madeleine thought as she watched him leave. A port is as good a place to hide as any.
    Less than an hour later, Jacques returned with two younger men. Both had dark hair. The taller of the