A Noble Groom (Michigan Brides #2)(47)

When she saw them approaching, she jumped up and skipped toward them. Even though she gave Uri a smile, her big blue eyes were on Carl, filled with the same adoration she’d had since he’d revived Snowdrop.

“How’s the princess this morning?” he called to her.



She giggled.

A sweet ache wound through his heart. Was this what it felt like to be a parent? To have the love of a child, freely given without any reservations?

He’d avoided marriage and commitment for so many years, wanting to evade the pain he’d seen in his parents’ marriage. But in the process had he missed the beauty of fatherhood?

Annalisa glanced up. Catching sight of them, she sat back on her heels and wiped her sleeve across her forehead.

Maybe that was why she was willing to enter into a marriage of convenience and lay aside her own joy—because she’d loved her child more than herself, because she wanted Gretchen and her new baby to have happiness even if she couldn’t. Had he been wrong to think she shouldn’t marry a stranger? Were there callings higher than one’s own pleasure and satisfaction?

“Would the princess like a ride on her horsey?” He stooped.

Gretchen nodded, and the love shining from her eyes melted him completely.

“Then, my lady, I’m at your beck and call.” He gallantly waved his arm toward his back. “Your horsey awaits.”

She climbed on and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Slowly he stood and handed his gun to Uri, who gave him a nod. The approval in the boy’s eyes made him wonder if perhaps he had as much to learn about being a man as Uri had about being a boy.

He carried Gretchen across the distance toward Annalisa, who arose and swiped her hands together, brushing off the dirt.

“You can call me the master turkey hunter now,” he said, stopping in front of her.

A smile flitted across her lips.

He’d come to covet her smiles, especially when one went into her eyes.



“I didn’t know horses could hunt turkeys.” She wiped a strand of stray hair off her nose, leaving a smudge of soil across her freckles.

“Mama, remember? He’s a magic horse,” Gretchen said from his back.

He winked at Annalisa. Her smile widened and moved to her eyes, just the way he liked, making the blue turn the color of the lilacs blooming along the edge of the field.

“The magic horse shot another turkey this morning, bringing my total to three.”

“Then I guess you are becoming a master hunter.” Genuine admiration graced her features. He was sure she knew exactly how hard turkey hunting was, how sensitive the birds were to every movement and noise, and what a feat it was for him to shoot any at all.

His chest swelled at her pleasure. “I’m going to town tomorrow with Uri to sell them.”

A shadow flitted across her face, and her smile disappeared.

What had he said wrong? “I’ll be sure to get the supplies we need for fixing the pig’s pen.”

The sow had farrowed eight piglets the past week. She was in the barn for now, but eventually the pigs would need more space. Carl would have to repair the fence the bear had torn off before they could use the outer pen. At least fixing the fence was one farm chore he could manage. In fact, by the time he finished designing it, Annalisa would find herself with a much-improved bear-proof fence.

“I’ll get anything else you need,” he offered.

She nodded, but wariness had clouded the warmth.

“We won’t stop at Saxonia Hall,” Uri said. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Carl watched the play of emotions on both of their faces, and he had the sudden feeling they were judging him for something Hans had done. “Look,” he said, holding Gretchen with one arm and reaching his fingers toward Annalisa’s nose and the dirt smudge. “I’m not Hans. Whatever he did, however he lived his life, I won’t follow in his footsteps.” Gently he wiped the pad of his thumb across the dirt.

She gave a quick intake of breath, but she didn’t move away from him.

“I’m my own man,” he said softly. “You can be sure I’ll make my own mistakes.”

The rumble of a wagon and the clomp of horses’ hooves demanded their attention.

“Yoo-hoo!” Frau Loehe’s call rang out like a yodel. As she came out from the cover of the maples, her horses were galloping much too fast. She clutched the reins with one hand and her wide straw hat with the other.

For an instant, Carl wondered if he was going to have to make a fool of himself by attempting to jump aboard her wagon seat in an effort to stop her horses.

But with another yodel she brought the team to an abrupt halt next to them.

“Guten tag!” she said breathlessly with a smile that rivaled the width of her hat.

“Frau Pastor, what a surprise,” Annalisa said.

“I can’t stay, dearies.” The woman’s large clothes hung loosely about a body that had likely filled out every pleat of fabric and then some during the times of year when they had an abundance of food. But as Carl had quickly learned, springtime was when the food stores ran low and everybody was hungry and thin after the long winter.

When he’d realized how little food Annalisa had, and that she was using it to feed him, he’d wanted to refuse eating any more of her meals. But she’d insisted, claiming it was his payment for all the work he was doing.