by Susan Finlay
“Mutter, I am sorry. I did not know this could happen. Please do not be angry.”
“Oh, dear girl,” Monika said, “I am to blame, too. I failed you. I should have explained . . . about things. I thought you were not ready yet.”
“I am not sorry about the baby. I am only sad that I have distressed you. I love Gunter and want to marry him. I really am ready. Please do not be angry.”
Seeing Hanna distressed, Monika hugged her, all the while struggling to hold back her own tears. “Everything will be fine. I am making your father’s favorite meal of veal stew. That should help when we break the news.”
Monika dreaded telling Gerhard; in this era, a father’s authority over his children was very much greater than a mother’s. Though Gerhard was generally less demanding than many men, he did rule the household and he was strict.
After supper, Monika and Hanna finally told Gerhard about Hanna’s situation. Monika sat in a sturdy wooden chair to the left of the hearth in the parlor, hands folded in her lap, nervously awaiting his reaction. Gerhard sat in his favorite chair facing the hearth, feet stretched toward the fire. He retracted his legs and sat upright, tightening his jaw and staring at his oldest daughter, as her condition was revealed to him.
Monika held her breath and prayed he wouldn’t strike Hanna. Hanna tipped her head in shame, sitting on the floor and shaking, her shoulders slumped.
“How could you let this happen?” he yelled. His arms flailed in the air, and Hanna flinched, without looking up.
Monika forced herself to stay seated and keep calm. “It was my fault,” she said. “I should have talked to Hanna about such matters. I failed my duty as a mother.”
Karl turned and stared at her. “No. Gunter is to blame. He should not have seduced our girl. He is a grown man and should have known better.”
Monika tended to agree to some extent, but she knew they were all to blame.
“Gerhard,” Monika said, “We will make this right. Gunter will marry Hanna. Things will be good, you will see. Maybe this is not such a bad thing.”
He puffed out his chest and crossed his arms, saying nothing. He glared at Hanna, and then at his eldest son, Konrad, who was obviously trying to become invisible. “Tell me you are not such a scoundrel,” Gerhard said, looking directly at Konrad.
“Papa!” Konrad blushed profusely, and pushed his wayward blonde hair out of his blue eyes.
Gerhard looked satisfied. “At least one of our children is honorable and shows some sense.”
Hanna’s eyes filled with tears. She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when Sigrid looked up from her spot on the floor next to her father’s chair and said, “Papa, I have done nothing wrong. Why are you accusing me of being bad?”
Gerhard looked down at her tenderly. “I did not mean you, child. You have always been a good girl.” He smiled at Sigrid and patted her head, while Hanna sat near the hearth looking miserable, her cheeks tear-streaked.
Monika felt sorry for Hanna. She loved her husband but thought he was, at times, too hard on the children, particularly the two eldest. She had to admit, though, that perhaps, given the current situation, she may have been a little too easy on them. She couldn’t help that Hanna and Konrad were her favorites. She’d always sheltered them when Gerhard lost his temper with them. Konrad was often forced to work the fields late into the night as punishment, even when he was seven or eight years old. The boy looked up to his father, though, and never complained.
Gerhard was kind-hearted, usually, but he could surely intimidate. By the time Sigrid and Henrik came along, Gerhard had mellowed a little and he tended to pamper them.
“We should post wedding bans on Sunday,” Monika said, hoping to bring the discussion to a positive close.
“Let us hope Gunter does not run away,” Gerhard said. “He is the kind of fellow who would do such a thing.”
“He would not,” Hanna croaked. “He loves me. He will marry me. He promised.”
Now her tears flowed freely, and Monika wanted to coddle her but didn’t dare. Instead, she stared into the crackling hearth, letting the glowing embers absorb her.
“You should say prayers tonight,” Gerhard said to Hanna. “Pray that he does the right thing. Now go to bed. All of you kids. I must talk to your mutter.”
After saying their goodnights, Monika peered into the burning fire again, thinking about their problems. Finally, she tore herself away and looked at her husband who sat staring into space, looking angry and yet defeated.
Monika whispered, “You really should not be hard on Hanna. After all, if I recall right, I was with child when we married.”
“That was different. We were not children. We were responsible.”
Monika’s mouthed curved ever so slightly into a smile which she tried to hide. “If I recall, we were not quite ‘responsible’. Had we been, well, we would not have had to get married and we would not have had a baby a mere seven months later.”
Gerhard glared at her. “You must not tell her about that. That is between us.” He looked straight at the hearth fire, adding, “I have kept your secret all these years, have I not?”
Monika sighed. Gerhard continued. “We all have our secrets. I would not betray yours, if for no other reason than revealing your secret would have all of us executed for sorcery.”
Monika flinched as if he’d struck her. Words that were close to tumbling out somehow backed up in her throat, almost choking her. She looked away from him and stared into the flames. Finally, she looked into his eyes and said, “That is unfair. Why do you always throw this at me when you are angry? You know I could not help being brought to this time. I would never do anything to put anyone in peril, least of all my family. I gave up trying to go back, for you and the kids. Because I love you and because I did not want to put you at risk.”
Gerhard broke eye contact and stared at the hand-woven rug in front of the hearth, apparently thinking about her words, but saying nothing.
Monika held back tears and concentrated on the sound of the crackling fire and the raindrops pelting against the house while she waited for him to say something.
Finally, she could bear it no more. “I am happy here, my love. I do not regret our sudden marriage. I would do it again. Surely you know that.”
Gerhard looked at her, his eyes softer than before. “I am sorry, Monika. I can be such a grumpy old goat.”
Monika came to him and sat on his lap. He wrapped his arms around her as she reached up and kissed him. She heard a noise on the stairs and pulled away slightly. Hanna was standing on one on the steps, watching, and biting her fingernails.
“It is all right,” Monika mouthed to her.
Hanna gave a brief smile, nodded, and swiftly turned around to tiptoe back up the stairs.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SOFIE AWOKE ON top of her quilt, with only part of it draped over her body. While she tugged at it with her eyes closed, trying to cover herself for warmth, her nose twitched at an unusual musty smell in the air. That’s odd, she thought. Usually, the air was fresh and pine scented. She strained to hear the chirping of early birds, but their song was oddly faint. Slowly, the memory of her trek up the flights of stairs to the tiny room their whole group had crammed into last night returned. She resumed her efforts to burrow back into her bedding. A loud snore made her jump slightly. Then the sound of heavy footsteps, multiple pairs of them, in the hallway outside their door made her sit up, suddenly alert. It was no use trying to get back to sleep; she was wide awake now.
She propped herself up on one arm and gazed around the shadowy room, wondering what time it was. Through the window the sun was already rising, the sky a glowing rainbow of pink, blue, and yellow spotted with billowy clouds. Tobias, Anneliese, and Tante Lotte were still asleep. Karl was already standing near the window looking out, rubbing his hand through his hair as if he was anxious about something. Max and Ryan weren’t in the room. She got up, tiptoed over to the window, and whispered, “Where are
Max and Ryan? Did they go downstairs already?”
“I do not know. They were gone when I woke. Birgitta is not here, either. Why did not she wake me? It makes no sense.”
Birgitta had come up ahead of them last night, after her granddaughter ran past the dining hall and up the stairs without saying anything. Karl had noticed, and started to go after them, but when Sofie put her hand on his arm and shook her head, he sat back down and ordered more drinks. A while later Sofie had seen Lotte come into the Gasthof and also head up the stairs. Tobias had noticed and asked Sofie what was going on and where everyone was. She explained that Anneliese and Birgitta were talking upstairs, and Max and Ryan were talking somewhere else, probably outside. He seemed to accept that.
Sometime later, Birgitta had come downstairs alone and whispered something in Karl’s ear. They left together, returning a short time later. By then, Lotte had come back downstairs. They sat in the dining hall and talked for the remainder of the evening, until most of the guests had departed, going upstairs to their rooms, to their homes, or returning to the road. When Sofie, Tobias, and Lotte followed Karl and Birgitta upstairs, the room was dark, with only a single candle to guide them. Anneliese was already asleep. Max and Ryan hadn’t come back. Sofie figured they were talking things out.
Now she wasn’t sure they had ever come back.
A loud pounding on the door made Sofie jump. She approached the door, but before she reached it, the door flew open and a man yelled, “There has been a murder. Everyone downstairs.”
She turned around. Tobias, Anneliese, and Tante Lotte were sitting up, startled, confused, and staring at each other.
Tobias asked, “What is going on?”
Sofie tried to still her racing heart. What if Max or his son was murdered? Was that why they didn’t come back?
MAX STARED AT the pug-faced man whose lips were yapping and spouting out strange words that seemed to run together. God, where was Sofie?
“Ich spreche kein Deutsch,” Max said for the fourth time.
The officer—or whatever the hell he was—looked at the other man who was standing in the corner of the room. Both men were dressed the same, in what appeared to be a uniform. Max had entered the gasthof at dawn and stood near the door, trying to figure out why everyone was crowded into the dining room but no one was eating. Someone had pointed to him and then these two men had pounced on him and dragged him into a small office next to the cooking area.
Max said, “I need—Ich brauche Sofie Sonnenberg.” He pointed toward the door.
The other man walked over to the door, opened it, and left the room. A few minutes later, he returned with Sofie, who sat down across from him without saying a word, her shoulders slumped and her eyes averted.
“Sofie,” Max said.
She said nothing.
“What’s going on? Who are these men? Are we under an invasion or something?”
She placed her hands over her face, hiding, and Max’s heart thumped hard in his chest as he tried not to freak out. Why wouldn’t she look him in the eye? Finally, she uncovered her face and looked at him with a haunted expression. “Birgitta was murdered overnight. I can’t believe she’s gone. Anneliese is hysterical. She blames herself, although she swears she didn’t kill her.”
He gasped, and for a moment couldn’t catch his voice or think clearly. Finally, he said, “What! Is this a joke?”
She shook her head, beginning to cry again.
“Oh God!” He looked at the men, then back to her. Overnight she seemed to have aged—lines creased her forehead and around her mouth. If it hadn’t been for me, she would still be back in Riesen. If it hadn’t been for me turning off the main road and going a different route than Gramps had planned, we would not have come to this gasthof and Birgitta would still be alive. Max rubbed his face, then said, “Who did it? Why would someone kill her?”
“The Feld gendarmes are questioning everyone. You and Ryan didn’t come back last night. Witnesses claim that one or both of you are involved.”
Max’s mouth gaped open. Ryan wouldn’t kill anyone, would he? He’d been angry last night at Max, but not at Birgitta. The image of Ryan storming out of the stables came to mind, but Max pushed it away. “Is he back now?”
Sofie nodded. “The Feld gendarmes have him in another room. They’re trying to question him.”
“What are feldgen-darmes?”
“Feld-gendarmes. They’re military police.”
Max nodded, trying to look calm, but he wanted to dart out of the room. As his son would say, copying a phrase he’d picked up from his mother, Jenny, they were scaring the bejeebies out of him.
The man asked something. Max looked from him to Sofie.
“He wants to know where you were last night after you left the gasthof.”
Max wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, then rubbed his face again with his bare hands several times and tried to remember exactly what had happened. His mind was still reeling. What did Ryan do? He let out a big sigh, which drew a sharp look from the officer.
“I headed to the stables right after you came and told me about Ryan and Anneliese. The girl ran into the gasthof as I was going outside. Ryan was still in the stables. I tried to talk to him. He got angry as usual—at me—and stormed out. I thought about searching for him, but I was too upset with him, and he with me. We both needed time to cool off. I went for a long walk. I needed fresh air and time alone to think. Can’t say I’ve had either of those since we traveled, you know what I mean.” He glanced at the officer. He didn’t seem to understand English. “I don’t know how long I walked. Finally, I turned around and started back toward the gasthof. Someone must have been watching, because someone clobbered me.”
“Someone hit you?”
He placed his hands palm up on the table. “I know it sounds ridiculous. I remember walking along the road. I didn’t see anyone. I vaguely remember a rustling sound in the bushes near the road. The next thing I remember, I was lying among the bushes, half covered by branches, with my head hurting like hell. The sun was coming up by that time.”
She turned and translated his statement for the soldier.
While she did that, Max’s mind continued to reel. Was it Ryan who had hit him? He was the first person Max had considered when he regained consciousness, considering their argument in the stables. But he wasn’t going to tell that to the soldier or police officer, or whatever the hell he was.
Max said, “What happened to Birgitta? How was she murdered?”
“Someone stabbed her with one of Karl’s daggers.”
Max opened his mouth, but couldn’t find any words. He leaned back in his chair, his heart flip-flopping, and tried to remember if they’d left the swords and daggers in the carriage or taken them inside the gasthof. Damned if he could recall. All he knew for sure was that he hadn’t touched them since they’d used them to cut back the branches yesterday afternoon. Had Ryan gone back to the stables after their quarrel? A sinking feeling hit him in the stomach.
“That’s awful,” he said. “I really liked Birgitta. How is Gramps taking it?”
“He’s shaken. In shock, I think. We all are in shock.”
“Does Tobias know?”
She nodded. “He’s struggling to understand it.”
The two officers looked at each other, and then the standing man asked Sofie to go with him. Max understood that easily enough. They probably needed her to translate for Ryan, too.
“WHAT HAPPENED TO you last night?” Karl asked, staring at his grandson and watching his face closely.
“Gramps, I didn’t kill anyone. I swear to you. I just needed some time alone because Ryan and I had argued. I went for a walk.” His eyes were clear and pleading, his palms facing up on the table in between them. Max leaned forward and looked into Karl’s eyes. “Please. You’ve gotta believe me. I wouldn’t hurt anyone. If I was going to kill someone, it certainly wouldn’t be Birgitta. She was always nice to me. You know, she and I were teaching each o
ther some words in our own languages.”
Karl nodded. He knew Birgitta and Max had gotten along well, and that Max did not have any reason to kill her, unless he was protecting his son. Lotte was the one person with whom Max did not get along. If Max was going to kill someone, he mused, it would likely be her. “You wanted to sleep indoors. You were happy about it, ja?”
“I was.”
“But you did not sleep in our room. Why?”
He sighed so heavily that his shoulders heaved and sagged as if someone had blown up a balloon and then let the air out of it. “Something came up and put me in a bad mood. I went for a walk to calm down. It had nothing to do with Birgitta. I liked her and we were trying to learn to communicate with each other.
Karl nodded. He had seen them both trying hard. Birgitta had told him Max was a charmer and if his relationship with Sofie did not work out, she would introduce him to a few women in Riesen when they returned. She did not believe they would ever get back to the twenty-first century.
“I would have come back to the room, but someone hit me over the head and knocked me unconscious. My head still aches like hell.”
Karl squinted at him. “Who hit you? Did you see anyone?”
“No. I was alone on the road—well, I thought I was. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the bushes with a horrible headache. And no, I wasn’t drinking any more. Not after I left the gasthof. You know I wasn’t drunk.”
“Your boy did not come back, either. Birgitta told me he—” What was the word in English? He looked up at the ceiling as he tried to remember. Nothing came to mind. “Er verfurhst Anneliese. Do you understand?”
Max shrugged.
“Seduced,” Karl said. “I think that is the word.”
Max nodded, ashamed. “I’m sorry, Gramps. Sofie caught them together in the stable. She came back into the gasthof and told me, but by then the girl had run back inside the building. I went to talk to Ryan to make him understand that he’d made a big mistake and that it couldn’t happen again. I told him that he could get us all in trouble.”