But as the gunfire slowed, so did Danni’s heart rate, and she slumped down beside Andy for a moment. He was so engrossed in his work that he didn’t seem to notice her as she bumped into him. She tipped her head back and tried to make herself comfortable on the ground, pushing with her heel at something in her way.
What the . . . Danni sat up, pulling her foot back fast as she realized what she’d been sticking her boot into. She gulped and glanced at Andy, who was still frantically writing and hadn’t noticed what she was doing.
There was a foot lying half buried in the dirt, partially covered with the remnants of a boot that had clearly been blown apart. A foot that, possibly only hours earlier, had once belonged to a man, and was now discarded like a piece of trash.
Bile rose in her throat but she quickly lifted her camera, needing the barrier between her and the body part. It changed the scene, any scene, made her feel as if she were removed from what she was seeing, documenting things rather than reality.
And then she realized everything had gone silent. Danni lowered her camera and looked around, seeing men on the ground—alive but slumped with exhaustion—nearby and in the distance.
“I have to get this back to London as quickly as I can,” Andy said, leaping up and then promptly tripping over the foot that Danni had been about to bury.
“What the hell . . .” Andy cursed, as Danni’s hand shot out to grab the pencil that flew from his hand.
Andy looked from the foot and back up to her again, but neither of them said another word about it. What was there to say, when they’d both witnessed firsthand the atrocities of war?
“Bloodthirsty barbarians,” Andy cursed, holding out a hand to her. Danni clasped it, walking around the body part and almost straight into the chest of Major Cameron.
“You,” he said. “Come with me.”
Danni followed, camera around her neck as she scrambled to keep up with his long stride. Despite the fatigue etched into the faces of everyone else around her, Cameron seemed immune to the same condition.
Less than an hour later, after being forced to wait to speak with General Patton, Danni wasn’t feeling quite so optimistic about working with her fellow Americans as she had earlier.
“Are you going to at least tell me what this is about?” she asked Cameron.
His mouth was set in a straight line as he smoked a cigarette, leaning casually against an army jeep like he hadn’t just been in a battle that could easily have claimed his life.
“No,” he finally said.
“It’s obvious you don’t want me here,” she said, refusing to back down, almost wanting to see his temper flare if it meant getting a reaction from him.
“Want one?” he asked, holding out the pack of cigarettes to her.
She shook her head slightly, not fond of smoking despite nearly everyone else around her partaking.
“Look, women are supposed to be at home or nursing, not running around in the middle of a war,” he said. “This isn’t a place for any woman, so don’t take it personally when I tell you that you shouldn’t be here.”
Danni bristled, but she was used to it. “There are plenty of women doing more than tending the home fires and nursing right now, Major,” she said, trying not to sound like a hissing cat as she glared at him. “There are women working with the Resistance in France, flying planes for the military, and doing everything a man can do. And there are plenty of female war correspondents making their mark, as well. And I, for one, am tired of hearing that a lack of female latrines, amongst other excuses, is a good enough reason to keep us away.”
He just stared back at her, blinking, the smile that touched his lips making her want to slap him.
“Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t want women in a war zone. Period. Nothing you say to me is going to change that.”
“Tell that to the women who care for you when you’re sent to a field hospital,” she muttered. “That’ll make you change your tune.”
Cameron seemed to find her outburst amusing, and she was furious that she’d taken the bait so easily. It wasn’t like her to be so touchy—hell, the troops in North Africa had joked she had balls of steel—but something about this particular man rattled her.
“There are very good reasons why women aren’t allowed near combat,” he said, voice lower now, more serious. “We have men break under the pressure every day, so what’s to make anyone believe women wouldn’t? Not to mention the fact that our men could end up taking risks to protect women in those situations. And besides, you’re quite right, it’s not as if we have women’s latrines, is it?”
“My place is here, documenting what I can, to show the truth of war to the people,” Danni said. “I only wish you could show my work the same respect that I pledge to show yours, instead of coming up with a raft of reasons why my gender makes me weaker than you.”
Cameron nodded, his smile gone, and dropped his cigarette, crushing it beneath his boot and standing to attention. As she turned and found Patton walking briskly up behind her, his back ramrod straight and his eyes permanently narrowed in an almost cruel way, she realized the show of respect had been for his superior, not for her.
“You,” Patton said, his chest rising and falling from the exertion. “I’ve made arrangements for you to remain with the field hospital. No broad is going to be getting under the feet of my men in battle, you hear me? I have no idea how you managed to get here in the first place, but you won’t be staying.”
Danni knew when it was worth putting up a fight, and she could see that now wasn’t the time. Not yet. “Yes sir. I understand.” She fought the urge to glower at Cameron, wondering if this was his doing. His arguments were so outdated, but unfortunately still shared by so many higher-ranking men.
“Because of my good grace, you’re not being sent back to London immediately, but if I hear so much as a whisper that you’ve disobeyed my orders to stay at the field hospital . . .”
“No sir, that won’t happen.” She was not going to create an enemy of a general, and certainly not one as influential as Patton.
“There’s plenty there for you to photograph, and I don’t want to hear that you’ve been anything other than an exemplary guest.”
Patton gave her a long, cold stare before, dismissing her, he turned his attention to Cameron. She watched the two men put their heads together as Patton produced a map and spread it out across the hood of the vehicle Cameron had been leaning against.
“I’ll stay with you,” Andy whispered, having come up behind her. “We can both report from the field hospital, bide our time there. He’s right, there’ll be plenty to see, and we can figure out where to go next.”
Danni scoffed. “So you can report on injuries instead of following the action? Don’t be ridiculous. We both know that Patton isn’t going to have a problem with a respected male correspondent tagging along, so you should go for it. I’m not holding you back.” Again. She didn’t say the word, but she should have.
Andy grimaced. They both knew she was right about him being welcome. “Still, I’m not leaving you. We’re a team.”
She didn’t argue with him—they were a team, and it wasn’t the first time he’d chosen to stay with her. Andy had stuck his neck out for her in North Africa, demanding that she be allowed to work alongside him, and if it had been anyone other than Patton calling the shots, she was certain he’d have done the same again.