A Noble Groom (Michigan Brides #2)(19)

When she caught the intensity of his gaze, she visibly stiffened and any trace of a smile vanished.

He wanted to reach up and slap himself across the face. What was he doing? She was a married woman, and here he was bordering on the same over-friendliness that had gotten him in trouble in England with Lord Faust’s wife during his time tutoring her children.

To be fair, Lady Cecilia had flirted with him. He’d tried to keep his distance from the woman, especially near the end when she’d become more insistent in gaining his affection.

Carl took a step back and straightened.

Annalisa busied herself shedding her coat and hanging it on a peg in the wall near the door. She’d tidied up and put on another dress. She’d even changed her hair out of the girlish braid she’d worn earlier and had swept the golden strands into a loose knot that only added to the attractive aura of womanhood that surrounded her.

He tore his attention away from her and focused instead on Gretchen.

While he was in Forestville, he’d have to make sure he kept his distance from the lovely Annalisa.

He was relieved that in a matter of minutes a large burly man entered the house. Carl didn’t need anyone to tell him who the man was. He could see the resemblance to Matthias right away in the wide shoulders and thick torso.

“So,” the man boomed, “you finally made it.” With footsteps that were as loud as his voice, Peter crossed the room and held out a hand. “It’s about time.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Carl accepted the handshake and tried to ignore the missing finger, the skin stained with the soil of the land, and the sweat that plastered the man’s hair to his forehead. And he tried not to think about Matthias’s parting warning—that Peter would kill him if he discovered his true identity.

An inner voice whispered at him to run—run far away, that he couldn’t deceive this man and take advantage of his kindness. He slipped his hand into his vest and pulled out the letter Matthias had instructed him to give to Peter. The paper was wrinkled and dirty from the months of travel.

He handed it to Peter. “Here’s a letter from Matthias—”

“Not now.” Peter took the paper and passed it to the white-haired man behind him. “Herr Pastor, you can read it to us all after supper.”

Carl hesitated. His conscience urged him to tell the truth now. At the start. Maybe they would accept him anyway no matter what had happened in the past. After all, he wasn’t his father. “But—”

“We’ll have plenty of time to catch up later.” Peter slapped him on the back and steered him toward the pastor. The overpowering sour odor of the man’s armpits accompanied him with each step. “I’m hungry. Let’s hurry up with the legalities and then we can eat.”

Somehow Carl found himself pushed next to Annalisa so that they were standing side by side in front of the short man that Peter had called Pastor.



“I’m Pastor Loehe.” The man leveled a serious look upon Carl as if trying to peer past him into the deep places inside.

“I’m Carl,” he said hesitantly, wondering if the pastor could see the deception written there.

“Well, Carl, I’ll be praying you’ll see what a treasure you’re getting today.” He smiled at Annalisa, and the kindness in the man’s eyes seemed to melt her reserve for a brief instant.

She nodded at the pastor and her eyes filled with gratefulness.

“Let’s start,” Peter called from behind them. “I’m not like Laban with his daughter Rachel. We don’t need to wait seven years.”

The cabin had somehow become crowded with more people, and in the jostling Carl’s arm brushed Annalisa’s shoulder. He leaned into her and whispered, “I don’t think he’ll starve if he has to wait seven minutes, do you?”

She looked straight ahead at the pastor and didn’t reply, but the corner of her mouth twitched.

“Quiet!” Peter’s command brought the chattering to an abrupt halt.

Pastor Loehe opened his Bible and began flipping through the worn pages.

“Make it short, Herr Pastor,” Peter said. “We don’t need this to be fancy.”

Carl glanced around at the smattering of faces in the small room only to find that they were all looking at him—and Annalisa.

Unease made a knot around his hungry stomach. Something wasn’t right.

The pastor cleared his throat and began reading, “‘Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered.’”

What was going on?



“‘Love keeps no record of wrongs,’” the pastor continued. “‘Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.’”

Carl’s mind whirled with dizzying speed, and he tried to make sense of what was happening. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost guess he was at a wedding ceremony.

He stiffened. Was he at a wedding?

Annalisa’s fingers gripped the edge of her apron so tightly they’d turned white. Was Annalisa getting married? Was she the young widow Matthias had told him about?

The pastor closed his Bible and looked at him directly. Admonition gleamed in the man’s eyes, warning him, censuring him, and pleading with him all at the same time. “I hope you’ll take these verses from Corinthians seriously and faithfully practice them every day.”