A Noble Groom (Michigan Brides #2)(42)

“That’s the only place I’ve ever seen such love and affection.” Sure, Herr and Frau Pastor seemed to have a more cordial and respectful relationship than most, but that kind of love happened in the stories and rarely occurred in real life. “Just because many marriages aren’t loving doesn’t mean that’s the way God intended for them to be.”

“I don’t think God cares.” Her words came out more bitter than she intended. From what she’d been able to tell, God was like all the other men in her life. He wasn’t interested in her. She was too insignificant to deserve His attention.

“Sure, He cares.” He spoke with a confidence that made her pause. “God instructs husbands to love their wives so much that they would be willing to give up their very lives and face death for them. If that isn’t a passionate and deep fairy-tale love, I don’t know what is.”

Her fingers stilled, lost in the depths of his wavy locks.

“You remember the story of Jacob and Rachel from the Bible?”

She nodded.

“Jacob was so in love with Rachel that he was willing to work seven years for his uncle Laban to pay the bride price. And because his love for her was so strong, the seven years seemed like only a few days.”

How was it possible for any man to love a woman with that kind of devotion?

“In our sinfulness,” Carl continued, “we’ve diminished God’s original plans for love and marriage. But that doesn’t mean we have to give up on love altogether.”

Maybe she had given up on love. Maybe she had relegated it to fairy tales. But she was safer that way. She’d experienced too much disappointment and frustration in those early days with Hans, and she’d only be setting herself up for more pain if she started to believe in fairy-tale endings again.

“You might be right about Jacob and Rachel and what God intended.” She started the comb through his hair again. “But it’s not possible for me. And not for anyone I know.”



He didn’t say anything for a minute. She let her fingers linger in his hair.

“I wish you could find real love, Annalisa,” he finally said softly. “Maybe your new groom will be the kind of man who will give you the love you deserve.”

“I don’t expect it. I’ve also learned that it’s not necessary, that there are more important things in surviving.”

“But survival becomes much more bearable when joy and love are a part of our lives.”

She shook her head. “You’ve seen this kind of love, in your parents’ marriage perhaps?”

He guffawed. “My mother was a tender, beautiful woman with a spirit like that of a dove. She was given in marriage to my father as part of a business agreement. He didn’t know her or care about her. And he never took the time to develop affection for her.”

“Such a union is not uncommon.” She had only to think of her marriage to Hans. He’d needed a woman to help him run the farm, to plant the vegetable garden, to prepare his meals, to milk the cow, and to bear him sons who could help with the farm. “There are many who must marry for practical reasons.”

“Ah, yes.” His tone was laced with sarcasm. “The practical marriage. I would rather wander the earth the rest of my days than marry someone I don’t know or love.”

His words pierced her. Did he despise her because she must marry a stranger? “My needs aren’t important anymore. I must think of my children now.” She started to pull away.

But he reached up and captured her fingers. He quickly shifted so that he faced her. “I’m sorry.”

His hand surrounded hers with a warmth and gentleness that sent a shiver up her arm.



“I shouldn’t have said what I did. I was thoughtless and unkind to you in your current predicament.” An errant strand of hair hung across his forehead. “Can you forgive me?”

The cock of his head, the sincerity in his eyes, and the handsomeness of his features were too hard to resist.

“Please. If you don’t forgive me, you’ll leave me in eternal torment.”

She studied his fingers holding hers, the familiar stain of soil creasing the grooves of his hand, making them rugged—even more attractive. “I suppose I can forgive you—since I wouldn’t want to be the cause of your eternal torment.”

One of his ready grins sprang to his lips. “You’re too kind.”

“You’re too convincing.” And too irresistible. Before she knew what she was doing, she brought her free hand to his forehead and combed the loose strand back.

His smile faded, and his eyes darkened.

Shocked at her boldness, she stepped back.

But he didn’t seem to notice her embarrassment. Instead he lifted her captured fingers to his lips and grazed the full softness of them against her knuckles.

She knew she ought to tug her hand away, to put a proper distance between them. She may not have experienced desire with Hans, but she knew where such feelings could lead if left unchecked.

He tipped her hand forward and pressed his lips again, this time to her wrist. The heat of his breath bathed her skin, making her insides tremble.

What would his lips feel like against hers? Hans had kissed her once—on their wedding day. But the brief, dry contact hadn’t elicited any emotion, not the way Carl’s kisses against her hand were. If she was near to swooning from a mere kiss on the hand, how would his kiss to her lips affect her?