A Noble Groom (Michigan Brides #2)(38)

The only thing he could do was wait and pray that her groom arrived soon . . . before he did something he would regret.





Chapter

8





At the sound of horses’ hooves outside the barn, Annalisa’s stomach quivered with something close to anticipation.

Carl was coming in from the fields at last.

She brushed a stray piece of straw from the clean shirt she’d laid out for him. And then she dipped her finger into the tub of water. It wasn’t as hot as when she’d poured the last kettle of boiling water into it, but it was still warm enough.

The lantern hanging from the center beam cast a pale glow over the stall she’d cleaned out for him. Everything was ready—from the grainy bar of lye soap to the crock of salve to the thin towel.

Across the U-shaped haymow, the little red-and-white-spotted cow Mathilda chewed on her ground corn and sent Annalisa puzzled glances above the rail, as if to ask why she was still in the barn so long after the evening milking.

The grunts of the sow finishing her meal came from the other side of the barn wall, in the muddy pen. The pig didn’t seem to mind being turned out of her home so that Vater’s horse could have shelter during the rest of the plowing. But she’d have to bring the sow back into the barn soon to provide her with better protection. Earlier in the spring she’d mated the pig with one of Vater’s boars. If all went as planned, the sow would soon farrow piglets and would have need of her stall again.

By then, Carl would be done with the plowing . . . she hoped.

Even though he’d worked steadily and without complaint, he was slow and awkward with the horses and the equipment. He’d taken much too long, and Vater was complaining about needing his horse back.

She’d wanted to ask Carl more about his work in Saxony and how it was that he couldn’t do even the most basic things like draw water from the well or set a trap. But she knew it wasn’t her place to pry, that she needed to be grateful for his help, even if it was slow and put her crops behind even more.

At least she would get the seeds in the ground.

The barn door creaked open and the chill of the oncoming night swept into the barn, chasing away the damp warmth and the familiar musty scent of hay.

“Don’t complain about being hungry.” Carl chided the horses kindly. “At least you got your meal last night.”

Her lips twitched with the desire to smile. He had a soft spot for the animals and an endearing habit of chatting with them.

“I, on the other hand, gave up a tasty quail supper to the pup.” The horses’ bridles jangled as they stepped into the barn. He followed behind them, strands of his dark hair curling up around the rim of his hat.

Annalisa’s stomach fluttered. He’d been incredibly gallant to sacrifice his supper for Snowdrop. And while she’d wanted to give him something else to eat instead, he’d insisted on leaving for the evening.

After he’d gone, she couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d protected her from Ward, and how he’d held her. The thoughts had lingered all day too, especially when she’d caught glimpses of him in the field, and when she’d taken a meal to him at noon.

His arms had been gentle and yet so solid at the same time. And he’d touched her hair. No one had ever touched her hair before—not tenderly, not the way he had.

He sidled next to Old Red and began unbuckling the throatlatch strap, obviously not seeing her yet in the dim light of the stall. “I hate to say it, old boy,” he said, brushing a hand across Old Red’s withers as he lifted the bridle over the gelding’s head and worked the bit out of his mouth, “but I think you beasts get more to fill your bellies than your masters do.”

“That’s because the animals are important to our survival.” She stepped out of the shadows. “If they starve, then so will we.”

He straightened with a start. His brows furrowed above anxious eyes. “I told you to stay in the cabin after dark and keep the door locked.”

“Ward wouldn’t dare come out here two days in a row.” With Hans she would have been worried about his anger and the reprisal for disobeying. But with Carl, somehow she figured he’d forgive her once he realized why she’d gone against his orders.

Even so, she approached Old Red and Bets hesitantly. She dug a dried cob of corn out of her coat pocket and held it out to Old Red. The horse took the whole ear into his mouth at once, wallowing it around with a contented slurping. The cobs were a special treat, and Annalisa knew the horse wouldn’t drop it until he’d cleaned off every kernel.

Annalisa reached for Bets and took the reins. “I’ll finish grooming and feeding the horses.”

From the other side of the horse, Carl’s brows rose.



Now that he could manage the chores by himself, she knew it was unusual for her to be in the barn when he returned from the fields. And it was even odder for her to offer to do his work.

She felt a tinge of embarrassment. Had she done the right thing? Or had she overstepped the boundaries of propriety?

“You’re very kind to offer to do my work, my lady,” he finally said with a half grin. “But I’ve learned a thing or two about horses over the past week, and I don’t think they’re disliking my ministrations quite so much anymore.”

She combed her fingers through Old Red’s mane and then into the forelock. “I do believe they’ve begun to tolerate you some.”