A Noble Groom (Michigan Brides #2)(81)

But when the man removed his hat and scratched his head as if attacking an unseen enemy there, dread slammed into Carl and weakened his knees.

Carl could almost see the mammoth-sized lice jumping around in the man’s hair and having a party. Carl’s skin crawled at the memory of the itching agony he’d suffered during his long voyage in steerage.

If the man had ship-sized lice, then that could only mean one thing . . .

“I’m looking for Peter Bernthal.” The man scanned the crowd. “I was told he was here tonight.”

Annalisa moved away from the wall, and Carl wanted to push her back to the edges, out of sight.



“I’m Peter.” Annalisa’s father stepped from the shadows and crossed his arms at his chest. “Who are you?”

Carl shook his head. He didn’t want to hear who this man was. He wanted to shove him outside and send him away before he could speak.

But Carl couldn’t move and couldn’t get his voice to work.

The stranger stifled a cough, then let his bag slip from his shoulder to the floor, as if he was finally home.

“I’m Dirk. Your cousin.”





Chapter

17





Annalisa stared at the stranger. Dread snaked around her.

Dirk? Here? Now?

He couldn’t be. He was supposed to be dead.

But Vater was embracing him like a long-lost son. And the other men were swarming around him, bombarding him with questions of family back home.

Everyone but Carl.

He stood on the fringe, his face pale and his shoulders rigid.

She wanted him to look at her and ask his question one more time. She wouldn’t hesitate this time. Everything within her cried out Ja, ja, ja. She would marry him. In fact, she’d do it at that very moment.

But she couldn’t get her feet to move toward him, and he stared at Dirk as if the man were the only other person in the barn.

“Didn’t you get Matthias’s recent letter telling of my delay?” Dirk asked Vater.

“We haven’t heard from anyone,” he said. “We all assumed you were buried at the bottom of the sea.”



“I was almost buried back in Essen before I could set sail.” Dirk coughed again with a wheeze and rattle that rivaled a wagon on one of their bumpy roads.

“Sounds like you might need a burying yet,” one of the other farmers said.

“Oh, this is nothing compared to what it was before. I’m fit now. Even the immigration doctor at the harbor in New York told me I was healthy.”

Annalisa wanted someone to pinch her and wake her up. Likely she was only having a bad dream. She’d awaken and find this man gone. Carl would smile at her and ask her again if she would marry him. And of course she’d say yes.

Vater slapped Dirk’s back. “Well, it’s a good thing you came tonight. I was about to give my Annalisa in marriage to another man.”

The men shifted to look at Carl. Dirk followed their lead, his brow rising.

Carl didn’t move.

“If you’d waited to come until tomorrow,” Vater continued, “you would have found yourself without a wife and farm.”

Maybe he still would find himself without a wife and farm. Did she dare walk over to Carl and show Vater and everyone else that she loved Carl and wanted to marry him? She quaked at the thought of doing something so bold. Perhaps if she caught Carl’s attention, he would see her willingness to marry him in her eyes. And if he knew she would marry him, maybe he would speak up and claim her for his own.

“We’ve got the pastor here tonight.” Vater motioned at Herr Pastor. “We might as well do the marrying now, while he’s here.”

She took another step back. Nein. She couldn’t marry Dirk. Not tonight. Maybe not ever. But especially not tonight.



Dirk glanced around the crowd of women as if searching her out. If they’d ever met in the Old Country, she didn’t remember him anymore. They both would have been much younger then.

She slouched and tried to make herself invisible.

But Vater pointed her out. “This is my daughter, Annalisa. And even though she has two daughters of her own, she’s still young and strong and will eventually give you sons.”

She didn’t look at Dirk, yet she could sense his appraisal. Instead she turned to Carl. They both needed to say something before it was too late.

Her mouth was dry. If she spoke, they would likely only scoff her. But if Carl said something, they would listen to him.

Silently she pleaded with him. The muscles in Carl’s jaw twitched. If only he would declare his intention to marry her. If only he would tell Vater it was too late for Dirk to have her. If only he would come and stand by her side and declare his love for her.

Did he love her? He’d just asked her to marry him. But he’d never mentioned love . . .

Dirk’s gaze bounced between her and Carl. Understanding dawned in his eyes, and his thin face hardened. “I see I’m going to be competing for Annalisa’s affection.”

Herr Pastor stepped forward. “Dear friends,” he began in his most pastoral voice, “this is all so sudden and unexpected. I urge us not to be hasty tonight in making any decisions regarding Annalisa’s future.”

“There’s only one thing to be done, Herr Pastor,” Vater said. “Even though I gave my consent for Carl to marry Annalisa, I did so only because I believed Dirk to be dead. But now that he’s here and very much alive, I must honor the commitment I made to him. Annalisa and the farm must go to Dirk.”