A Noble Groom (Michigan Brides #2)(96)

“Sign the document, Mrs. Werner.” Ward pushed a pen into her hand. “Then we can both get out of the way of the coming storm.”

Annalisa’s hand shook. Gott, she silently cried, fighting off the old feelings that He wouldn’t care. I’m going to trust that you’re here watching over me. Frau Pastor said you were big enough to listen to everybody and that you would take care of a widow like me.

Ward rattled the paper. “There at the bottom. Next to the X.”

She lowered the pen to the spot, but then squeezed her eyes closed. Could she really sign over all her hopes and dreams for the future?

A gust of wind whistled through the cracks in the walls, blowing in more smoke.

What other choice did she have?

Gott, she inwardly pleaded, bitte. Help me save my girls.

“You do know how to write your name, don’t you?”

Strangely a resolved calm settled over Annalisa. She knew what she needed to do. She bent and scrawled her name, then handed the pen back to Ward.



“Good girl.” He released her arm and shoved her away.

Her feet tripped over each other, and she found herself falling into the fresh hay at the center of the mow.

“I’ll give you two days to vacate the property.” He folded the paper and tucked it into the inner pocket of his vest. Through the growing shadows his yellowish eyes and pockmarked skin took on an eerie pallor.

Then he raised his pistol and aimed it at Sophie, whose wails were growing more insistent.

“Nein!” screamed Annalisa, hunching over the baby, covering her with her own body as best she could.

Ward then swung the pistol toward Snowdrop. The dog’s barking had become louder and more insistent.

Ward’s finger wrapped around the trigger, and he took aim at the defenseless animal.

Annalisa cringed and waited for the loud bang that would bring an end to Snowdrop’s life. She couldn’t protest, even though her heart already grieved for Gretchen. If Ward must take a life before he rode off, she’d much rather have him kill the dog than Sophie.

A crack echoed through the barn, followed by a yelp of anguish that sounded more human than animal.

Snowdrop continued to bark, though with less urgency.

Annalisa glanced up.

Ward fell facedown onto the barn floor. His body sprawled at an awkward angle, and he didn’t move.

Uri stood over him, clutching a hoe in his hand, his young face a mask of tight fury.

For a long moment, in the growing darkness, Annalisa couldn’t make sense of what had happened.

“Annalisa!” Carl called from the farmyard. A sob caught in her throat, and she couldn’t get her voice to work to call back to him, to let him know where she was.



She struggled to her knees.

An instant later, he burst into the barn. He held a lantern high, the light cutting through the darkness.

He was breathing hard. Sweat trickled down his soot-streaked face. The dark waves of his hair were wild without the hat he’d obviously lost in his haste.

She tried to push herself out of the hay, but her relief was so enormous that her legs couldn’t hold her weight.

He’d come back.

He glanced around the barn frantically before finding her. “Annalisa!”

With shaking fingers he hung the lantern on the nearest peg, and in three long strides he was at her side. He dropped to his knee and reached for her. “Oh, thank you, God,” he whispered, drawing her toward him.

She wrapped her arms around his chest and buried her face into his shirt. She breathed deeply of him—of the smokiness that mingled with an earthiness he’d gained in working the land. The hardness of his chest and the strength of his arms crushed her. She knew with certainty she was exactly where she wanted to be.

Even Sophie between them stopped her crying and gave a little gurgle as if suddenly content.

“Are you all right?” He pulled back, putting her at arm’s length.

“I’m fine.” Now that he was there, now that he’d come back to her, she felt like she could finally breathe again. Really breathe.

“Did Ward hurt you?” He slid his hands down her arms and then lifted them to her cheeks.

At the cool touch of his fingers on her flesh, she leaned into his hand. He’d been gone for less than twenty-four hours, yet it felt like twenty-four years. And now she wanted to do nothing but bask in the nearness of his presence.

But Old Red’s nervous whinny and Mathilda’s bleating reminded her of the seriousness of their situation.

Carl rose and pulled her to her feet. “We need to get out of here. The fire is out of control and moving this way.”

Gretchen had followed Carl into the barn. And before Annalisa realized what the little girl was doing, she had tiptoed over to Ward. “Mama, he’s hurt.”

The flame from the lantern flickered amidst the smokiness. But even through the haze Annalisa could see the bright red that seeped from a gash on the side of Ward’s head. His flesh was split apart, similar to the injury that had killed Hans.

Blood glistened on the sharp edge of Uri’s hoe, and the boy’s face was set with a hardness that sent a shiver through Annalisa. Had the boy killed Ward?

Carl turned Gretchen away from the grisly wound and steered her toward Annalisa. He turned back to inspect Ward. “Is he dead?”