A loud knock on the front door startled Ursula. The only ones who knocked were the American soldiers. Usually they drove recklessly in their shiny jeeps and she could hear them from miles away. But today she hadn’t heard a vehicle come down the road.
She dried her hands on her apron and walked over to open the front door. The knock came again, softer this time, and she wondered who it could be. The visitor certainly didn’t follow the pattern of the occupiers, but who else would knock on their door?
Not the neighbors, who came in through the backyard. Definitely not the people who lived on the farm. Her heart sped up. Maybe Lydia’s husband Peter had returned from captivity. It was a possibility. Her feet rushed to open the door and for a moment she froze in shock.
The man standing outsi
