A Noble Groom (Michigan Brides #2)(15)

“He? I’d venture to say he’s less of a Snowdrop and more of an Inkblot.” He scratched the dark-furred puppy behind each ear, earning a number of drooling kisses across his hand.

When he glanced up at Annalisa, his eyes twinkled. “Wouldn’t you say?” His lips curved into a dashing smile.

Her insides fluttered, and she caught her breath, speechless.

He combed his fingers through the dog’s curly hair until they came to the knotted rope. But all the while his deep brown eyes didn’t let go of hers.



“Unless, here in America, snowdrop means black instead of white.” He worked at loosening the knot, but still he didn’t release her gaze.

“Nein.” The feathery tickles in her stomach moved up her chest. “Gretchen picked the name Snowdrop because in the story the enchanted mirror would always tell the queen that Snowdrop was the fairest in the land.”

“Fairest in the land,” Gretchen echoed, stroking her little fingers across the puppy’s back.

“Ah, yes. Another of the tales by the Brothers Grimm.” He slipped the rope off the puppy’s neck and then held him up. His legs dangled and his tail waggled. “A fitting name indeed for a young pup who is quite fair, if I may say so myself.”

At his words Snowdrop gave a playful yip.

“He obviously agrees with me.”

Gretchen giggled.

The tension in Annalisa’s body melted like a pat of butter on a slice of warm bread.

Who exactly was this man? And why was he being so kind?

Carl handed the squirming puppy back into Gretchen’s waiting arms and then straightened.

She glanced away toward the sagging fence that surrounded the chicken pen. He would only lord it over her later if he knew the strange reaction he was eliciting within her.

“As delightful as it’s been to carry your bucket of maple sap,” he said, “I really must be on my way.”

She wanted to smile at his playfulness, but instead she ducked her head.

“I’d be indebted to you if you could point me in the general direction of Peter Bernthal’s farm. I’ve a letter from Matthias to give him.”

The warmth in her heart stole into her limbs. So he really was her groom, the man sent by her uncle to marry her and help her with the farm.

Somehow she managed to send him on his way without making a fool of herself. As she started on the many chores she needed to do before nightfall, she attempted to put the stranger out of her mind. Even so, her thoughts kept straying back to him and the knowledge that she would soon marry him.

She was not the least surprised when Uri came running to the barn door not more than an hour later. “Mutter says to come right away.”

Annalisa wanted to pause, but she forced herself to finish tossing a shovelful of oats into Old Red’s trough. The image of the stranger’s handsome smile and dark, captivating eyes sent a warm spring breeze through her stomach.

She wasn’t excited. Nein. She was only anxious to secure the husband she needed so that she could get her crops planted on time.

“She sent Eleanor to fetch Pastor Loehe.” Uri climbed onto the rail of the horse’s stall. As the youngest of her siblings, and as Vater’s only remaining son, Uri was like the puppy—coddled much more than he needed.

“Mutter says I’m to finish your chores so you can change into your Sunday dress.” The boy jumped into the stall and rubbed his hand on the horse’s chest.

Old Red’s ears pricked up as Uri ran his hand along the curved neck into the mane.

“Then you’ll need to muck Old Red’s stall.” She brushed a loose lock of hair from the boy’s forehead. “And milk Mathilda.”

“You have to get married tonight.” In the dimness of the barn, Uri peered up at her with serious eyes, as if trying to gauge her reaction to the news.



“Ja. I know.” Even if she’d been able to put off the inevitable during the winter, she couldn’t delay it any longer. She needed a husband now more than ever. Who else would hold the heavy plow and drag it through the hard ground? Who else would be able to shoulder the harrow and be able to withstand the long hours and grueling days of planting?

She couldn’t disobey Vater. Especially not when he’d gone to the trouble to find her as good of a groom as possible, one from among his own kin.

Besides, what other destiny was there for a woman like her?

But Gretchen, on the other hand . . .

She glanced to the corner pile of hay, where the little girl had curled up and fallen asleep with Snowdrop. Strands of hair had come loose from her braids and swirled in a shaft of sunlight around her head like a halo.

She could give Gretchen more options someday, couldn’t she? And the new baby?

Her hand stole to her round abdomen, and she caressed the life growing inside her. She wanted to give so much more to her children than she’d had.

Uri pulled a withered wormy apple from his coat pocket and held it out to Old Red’s muzzle. The horse’s nostrils whooshed before he stuck out his tongue for the treat. “I hope Carl will be kinder to you than Hans was. Maybe you’ll be happy.”

“Maybe.” She wasn’t expecting happiness. Not anymore. But she wouldn’t disappoint Uri with the truth.

The soft nicker of the gelding was followed by its loud crunching. Uri gently stroked the short fine hair on the horse’s forehead. “I’ll do my best to make sure he’s kind.”