A Noble Groom (Michigan Brides #2)(89)

Fresh anguish seeped through her, tightening her muscles, making her want to cry. Why had he lied to them? How could he have lived with them these past months, knowing how much the baron had hurt their family, knowing it was because of the baron that they’d left everything to move to America?

She traced her fingers across the trail the tears had made down Gretchen’s dusty cheeks.

Why hadn’t he just told them the truth about who he was?

But even as the question bombarded her, as it had countless times since he’d admitted who he really was, the shame burning in her stomach was her answer. They would have treated him with the same scorn and revulsion they’d heaped upon him that afternoon, and perhaps even more.

She stared at the path he’d taken after grabbing his sack of meager belongings and setting off down the road toward Forestville. She certainly wasn’t watching for him. She didn’t expect him to return and plead with her to marry him, not after the finality of their parting. And even if he did, she never would marry him.

She couldn’t.

Her gaze flickered to Vater and Dirk at the table in the shade.

Vater could never accept Carl now. Even if he hadn’t been the baron’s son, he was still a nobleman. And in Vater’s eyes that was unforgivable. Besides, how could a nobleman and a peasant woman ever make a life together? They were just too different. He would never be content on a farm, and she would never fit into his world.

Perhaps that was why Carl had been so uncertain about marrying her and returning her love. He’d known there were too many barriers between them.

She gave a long sigh. Well, now she knew too.

Dirk rose from the table and stretched. But then just as quickly he started coughing.

Vater unfolded his limbs from the bench and he turned to face her. “Now there’s nothing stopping you from marrying our cousin.”

Her pulse slowed several paces. Maybe she wouldn’t be able to marry Carl, but that didn’t mean she had to wed Dirk, did it? At least not right away. Couldn’t she wait until she had the chance to know him better?

Dirk straightened and he let his gaze linger on her. Something sparked in his eyes, but then he looked away. Even so, she caught a glimpse of his longing for her and she stifled a shudder.

She couldn’t fault Dirk. So far he’d seemed like a kind and hardworking man. Maybe he would be a better husband than Hans had been.

But the problem was, she didn’t want him.

How could she possibly go through with marrying him? Not after meeting Carl and experiencing the depths of emotional and physical attraction to him in a way she’d never known existed between a man and woman. How could she possibly lie with a man and let him touch her if she didn’t have a return desire?

And after knowing what it was like to truly and passionately love a man, how could she now settle for a cold, unfeeling marriage?

With another shudder she gently lifted Gretchen. “Time to go, liebchen.” She pushed herself from the ground.

“Maybe I’ll send Uri for Herr Pastor tomorrow evening,” Vater said, “and we can have the ceremony then.”

“Nein.” The word fell out before she could contain it. “I can’t marry Dirk tomorrow. I can’t marry him next Sunday. And maybe not ever.”

“What are you talking about, daughter?” Vater bellowed, making her want to duck her head and shrink down into herself. “Stop speaking like a foolish young girl. You need a husband, and Dirk will make a good one. He will be better than your sister’s husband. We should be grateful for that.” He waved his hand at her as if dismissing her and started toward the barn.

She wanted to call out in protest, but her throat constricted against such defiance. Was she destined for a loveless marriage after all?

But even as she watched Vater stride away, taking all of her hopes with him, Carl’s words came back to her. She wasn’t at the mercy of the men in her life. Didn’t she deserve some choice in whom she should marry and when?

“I won’t marry Dirk this week.” Her voice wavered but was stronger than she expected.

Vater’s footsteps came to an abrupt halt.

She pressed her hand against her chest to still the wild thumping.

Slowly he turned and his eyes narrowed.



Behind her, Dirk coughed, and the wind rattled the brittle branches, threatening to break them into kindling.

Under Vater’s gaze everything within her body urged her to submit, to give in—just as she’d always done. But there was something whispering through her blood, as if Carl’s words were alive inside her, giving her a new strength.

“I want to get to know Dirk first”—the words came out haltingly—“before I decide whether I want to marry him.”

“Decide?” Vater’s eyebrows shot up. “What’s to decide?”

Gretchen’s hand slipped into hers. The warmth of her fingers curling around gave her the courage she needed to go on. If she didn’t take the first step forward in becoming a stronger woman, how could she give Gretchen and Sophie the strength to have a better life?

“I’m grateful for your help and advice.” She took a shaky breath. “But I’d like to have the final word on who I marry.”

Vater stared at her for a long moment, searching her face. He took off his hat and scratched his head. “If you don’t have Dirk’s help with the rest of your harvest, you’ll lose the farm.”