A Noble Groom (Michigan Brides #2)(105)

She gasped and tilted her head, giving him access to her neck, to her very soul.

“How is my littlest princess?”

She smiled at his question and placed her hands over his as he made a leisurely tour over her well-rounded abdomen. “And what if it’s a prince?”

“Then after he’s born, I shall have to set to work immediately procuring another princess.”

Heat bloomed in her middle and fanned into her cheeks.

“I missed you.” His lips descended again to her neck and made a warm trail to her collarbone. “I couldn’t live another day without you.”

“Then it’s a very good thing you came home.” She loved the gentleness of his hands on her belly. “I certainly wouldn’t want you to perish on account of me.”

He gave a soft chuckle.



She craned her neck, moving her lips toward his.

His lips met hers with a passion she’d come to expect from him, a melding that set her on fire.

Before he could deepen the kiss, she broke away and reached for his hands. She tugged him toward the blanket and the flowers and the basket.

He let her lead, his grin knowing, and his eyes as ablaze as her insides. “Don’t you want the picnic I’ve planned?”

“It’s lovely. You’re more romantic than any prince in any fairy tale.”

His grin widened.

“But first I must sate my hunger for my husband’s kisses.”

“You’re not curious what it is I have brought you in the basket?” He bent and pulled off the towel.

She drew in a breath. Amidst a loaf of bread, several oranges, and all the spices she loved and needed for her baking, was a crock, similar to the one she’d once hidden under her bed. Like almost everything else in the cabin, the crock had been destroyed. They’d only been able to salvage some of the coins, which they’d used to survive the winter.

“A new jug to use for your savings for the girls,” he said softly.

With trembling fingers she picked it up. She ran a hand over the smooth glazed contour and then met Carl’s gaze. “I love you.”

He smiled. “Check inside.”

She tugged off the cork. Instead of coins, a wad of bills was tucked inside. She gasped. “What’s this?”

“I sold one of my inventions. I have the patent here.” He patted his coat pocket with a grin that filled his face. “I set aside enough to buy a second horse and seeds for planting. But the rest is in there. For our girls.”

Her heart swelled until it hurt. She couldn’t speak past the ache in her throat. The only thing she was capable of doing was reaching for him and showing him her gratitude and love.

Before she could lower herself and pull him into the hay next to her, the barn door squeaked open.

She froze. The memory of Ward’s attack still haunted her. Even though no one had seen Ward since that fateful day of the fire—even though he’d likely been burned to ashes during his crazy attempt to outride the fire—she still jumped at the thought of being caught in the barn unarmed.

Carl stiffened.

And when she peered over Carl’s shoulder and saw who had entered the barn, she realized why Carl was tense.

It was Vater.

Ever since the fire, he’d been a broken man, especially after Uri had died. The boy had lived for three agonizing days after the fire. She couldn’t help thinking he was better off in heaven, where he wouldn’t have pain or heartache, or the guilt of Hans’s murder that would have eaten away at his soul.

Only after Carl had left for Detroit had Vater finally come to visit. He’d offered to help her with her chores, especially since Dirk was strong and capable of handling most of the chores on his own farm. Over the winter, Dirk had married Eleanor and had become the son Vater no longer had.

Vater’s gaze moved from her to Carl, then back. “Well, it doesn’t look like you need my help anymore.” His voice was tight.

She couldn’t find the words to make him stay, to tell him she didn’t want him to go. Couldn’t she have both Vater and Carl in her life?

“Thank you for helping Annalisa while I was away,” Carl said.

Vater scowled. “I didn’t do it for you.”

“I know.” Carl slipped his arm around Annalisa’s waist and drew her to his side. “But I love my wife and children more than anything, and I’m grateful to you for making life easier for them during my absence.”

Vater stared at them for a moment, his brows turning placid and his eyes sad. “I’m a stubborn man,” he finally said. “And I’m learning firsthand what Christ meant by His command to forgive seventy times seven.”

His words pried open a crack of hope in Annalisa’s heart. She wanted to rush into his arms like she had the day of the fire. She wanted him to hold her and to feel his love again.

But the stiffness in his shoulders held her back. Perhaps some joys in life were only meant to happen once.

“You’re a good man,” Carl said.

Vater hesitated before stepping forward and looking at Carl squarely. “You’re a good man too,” he said. Then he pulled down the brim of his hat, turned and walked out of the barn.

For a while after he was gone, neither of them spoke. The familiar sounds of the animals surrounded them—Old Red’s contented nickering, Mathilda’s chewing, and the sow’s low grunts.