A Noble Groom (Michigan Brides #2)(51)

“I don’t know what my life will hold,” he said hesitantly. “But I’m hoping that maybe soon, after your groom arrives, I’ll be able to move to Chicago and perhaps teach there.”

His words pricked her with disappointment. Didn’t he want to stay? After all the work he’d done, hadn’t he grown accustomed to farming? Didn’t he find the wild land captivating, like she had?

For several minutes they walked without speaking. The clanking and rattling of the wagon filled the space between them. The dust of the dirt road swirled around them, along with her unspoken questions. She may have grown braver in talking with him, but the hard set to his lips was enough to silence her.



She inhaled deeply of the air laden with the blossoming maple flowers in the trees that shouldered the road.

Her stomach growled with the constant hunger she battled. It wouldn’t be long before they’d be eating fresh produce from the garden.

The baby gave a thump as if to agree that it was past time for a meal. If she’d calculated correctly, she only had about a month left before the baby came.

She put a hand to her lower back and pressed the aching muscles. The baby was getting heavier, and the walk to town and now back home had taken more effort than she’d anticipated. Nevertheless, she’d been delighted when Carl had arrived that morning and asked her if she wanted to accompany him. The way he’d asked her—the light in his eyes—had made it too hard to say no, even if she’d wanted to, which she hadn’t.

He’d told her that her mutter had decided Uri had too much work to be spared a trip. And of course they needed to sell the turkeys before they began to decompose or before a wild creature found their makeshift river icebox.

She’d had butter and eggs to sell, and she’d needed to restock the flour, sugar, coffee, and kerosene. She’d gone through the supplies much quicker now that she was feeding Carl. Always when she visited the general store, she took a moment to stop and smell the spices—the nutmeg, cinnamon, ginger, and other tantalizing scents. She dreamed about the day when she’d have enough money to buy whatever spices she wanted for her baking.

“At least these poor excuses for roads have dried up,” Carl said, his voice containing its normal hint of humor. “Those mudholes earlier in the spring were rather dangerous.”

“The men have talked of turning this into a corduroy road at some point.” She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to convince him of the virtues of their community.



“And pray tell, what exactly is a ‘corduroy road,’ or dare I even ask?”

“They’re made by splitting logs in half and laying them next to each other across the road, particularly in the deepest mudholes.”

He grinned. “Now, that sounds one hundred percent better than the current situation.”

She watched his face, trying to gauge if he was serious or sarcastic. “We’ll be able to take our harvest to market much easier.”

“I suppose even if the corduroy road jars your bones apart, at least your horses won’t get lost in mud puddles.” His eyes glittered with flecks of mirth. “And I suppose you wouldn’t need to worry about any more late-night swims either, would you?”

“If I had a magic horsey like Gretchen’s, then I wouldn’t have to worry about walking at all.”

He laughed.

The warmth of his laughter soaked into her like a fresh spring rain. What was it about him that brought out her smile and a kind of playfulness she’d never known before?

The path to her farm was around the next bend, and she slowed her footsteps to make the time with him last just a little longer. After years of avoiding Hans as much as possible, she didn’t quite know what to do with her new feelings—the freedom of being around a man and actually enjoying his company.

Carl’s pace slowed too as they neared the farm. Was he reluctant for their time together to end?

“Thank you for your willingness to keep me company today,” he said. “But I think I’ve worn you out.”

She was weary, but only because the baby was getting so large. She couldn’t blame the roads this time.

“I was selfish to ask you to come along,” he said, “when the ride is so unbearable and the walk tedious to one in your condition.”

“You made the walk so lovely I hardly noticed my aches.” Once the words were out, she didn’t know what had come over her to make her so bold. She pretended to watch the scampering of two baby red squirrels around the trunk of a nearby tree as they chased each other and chattered.

“I had a lovely day too,” he said softly. “But of course, how could it be anything but lovely when I’m with such a lovely lady?”

“Mama?” Gretchen’s sleepy face peeked over the edge of the wagon bed.

“A lovely lady and her princess.” Carl smiled at Gretchen.

His compliment brought Annalisa much more pleasure than she cared to admit. She turned toward her daughter, hoping to hide the effect of his words. “Ready to get out and walk, liebchen?”

Before she could lift Gretchen, Carl reached for the girl. Gretchen went to him with open arms.

Instead of immediately depositing her on the ground, he lifted her above his head and twirled her around. “I think you’re a flying fairy princess.”