A Noble Groom (Michigan Brides #2)(99)

Everything within him tightened with fear and a love so passionate he wanted to cry out with frustration. That was his family down there. And God help him, he had to save them.



An explosion at the edge of the woods sent fireballs shooting through the air. The wind rushed at him, bringing with it a thick smoke that blinded him and left him choking.

“I’m coming down,” he managed through fits of coughing.

“Thank Gott.” Annalisa’s reply came on the edge of a sob.

He hefted the planks they’d used to cover the well, to keep the sun and hot air from evaporating any more of their water. He spread the boards across its width and then slipped through the last narrow opening.

With stinging eyes he paused for an instant to watch the roof of the cabin burst into flames. Then, holding on to the well’s rope with one hand, he slid the last board into place and prayed the covering would be enough to keep the worst of the destruction from reaching them.

With several bounds against the stone wall he climbed down until he bumped into Annalisa. He lowered himself into the water next to her.

“Take off your apron and Gretchen’s too.” He reached for the bucket and dipped it into the water. “Make sure they’re drenched and then drape them over your heads.”

Through the darkness he couldn’t see them, but he could hear the splashes in her effort to get the aprons untied. He wanted to stop and help her, at least hold Gretchen. He had no doubt that Annalisa’s arms were getting tired.

But first he had to saturate the boards across the opening as much as possible. Using the pail, he tossed water at the planks. Again and again until they were soaked. Carl could only pray that he’d gotten the boards sufficiently wet to prevent the fire from consuming them.

Just moments later the flames flickered through the cracks of the covering, with an intense heat pressing down into the well.

“The fire’s here.” Carl wrestled off his shirt and dipped it into the water. He draped the sopping shirt over Annalisa’s and Gretchen’s heads. “I’ll hold Gretchen. See if you can nurse Sophie. The less crying, the more oxygen we conserve.”

He slipped his arms around Gretchen, and without a word she came to him, clutching him with her arms and legs. He stayed as close to Annalisa as possible to keep Gretchen under the wet tents their aprons and his shirt provided.

Her little head rested against his undervest, and for the first time since he’d galloped at full speed out of Forestville, his heartbeat finally slowed to a steady rhythm. He lowered his head and, through the layers of wet garments, kissed Gretchen’s head.

Finally Sophie’s cries came to a halt, replaced by her hungry gulps.

Carl wished he could bend and press a kiss against the baby’s soft head too.

He loved them. He loved them just as if they were his own flesh and blood. The revelation sent a swell of emotion through his chest so strong it threatened to engulf him.

And he loved Annalisa.

Desperately.

He closed his eyes and nearly groaned with the knowledge of it.

Why had it taken him so long to admit it? Why now, when death circled down into the well and threatened to choke them?

In the darkness he reached for her. His fingers connected with her back. Through the wet fabric of her shirt, the heat of her skin grazed him.

Oh, Lord, he prayed. I was running away again, wasn’t I?

Had he been unwilling to acknowledge his love because he was afraid of marriage? Afraid of having a marriage like his parents’?



But hadn’t he told Annalisa he wasn’t his father and wouldn’t make the same mistakes? That he’d make his own mistakes?

He took a deep breath of the increasingly hot air. He wouldn’t be perfect. In fact, he’d already hurt Annalisa with his deception. But just because they would invariably hurt each other and have problems didn’t mean he had to run away from her.

He let his fingers make a trail up her back and then down. She shivered but sidled closer to him and leaned her head against his shoulder.

If they made it out of the well alive, he’d stay and fight for her no matter the cost. He wouldn’t run away again, not even if Peter put a gun to his head. He’d do whatever he had to in order to win her heart. He’d beg her to forgive him. And then he’d beg her to marry him.

Overhead, the fire roared with fury. The boards over the well crackled. Sparks flittered down.

If they survived . . .





Chapter

22





Annalisa could hardly breathe. The air had grown so hot and stifling she wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand. The water had lost its coolness, and her legs wobbled with the effort of holding up her numb body. Thankfully Sophie had nursed herself to a weary sleep.

Carl had redipped the aprons and shirt numerous times, attempting to keep her and the girls from overheating and to protect them from the dangerous fumes.

He’d tossed more pails of water at the opening of the well and had kept a vigilant guard for what seemed like hours, dousing the falling embers and sparks.

“I think the worst has passed.” Carl’s voice was hoarse. “I’m going up.”

“Nein, don’t go yet.” She tugged the wet garments off her head. “The fires will still be burning.”

“We need more oxygen.”