by Susan Finlay
Sofie put her hand on his shoulder, and he turned back to look at her.
“Mom, I was not supposed to tell. I messed up and told them,” he said, motioning toward the girls, “and now I blurted it out again, to you. Max will hate me.”
“He will not hate you,” Sofie said. “I do not think you have to worry about him. I am the one he is not happy with.”
“He loves you. He told me so. He wants to marry you. He is not angry with you.”
“It is complicated, Tobias.”
He looked at his mother with his round, innocent eyes, and she instantly felt sympathy for the little guy. She put her arm around him, and together they walked to the front porch where everyone had gathered, but she couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened. Tobias’s friends always talked about their fathers, went on hiking trips with them in the Alps, and snow sledding with them in the countryside near Riesen. Tobias always felt left out, even when he occasionally got invited to go along. It wasn’t the same tagging around as an outsider. She knew only too well. By the time she was old enough to do those sorts of things herself, her grandfather was too old. She’d missed out on father-daughter and mother-daughter activities because she never had parents. At least Tobias had a mother. Somehow, though, she knew in her heart it didn’t make up for all that he was missing. He longed for a father, and he was very fond of Max. She didn’t want Tobias to get hurt, but she and Max couldn’t be together just for Tobias’s sake. She did love Max, but felt she didn’t deserve him and he didn’t deserve to suffer at her hand.
Sofie glanced down and smiled at Tobias. He opened his mouth to say something to her, but stopped because he was now standing in front of a woman who had her hand on his shoulder. Sofie couldn’t help but notice him look up at the woman adoringly.
“I am Monika Hoffmann,” the woman said, extending her other hand to Sofie. “You must be Sofie Sonnenberg.”
Sofie smiled and shook her hand, studying her face and thinking she would have known her without the introduction because she had the same eyes as Max. “Yes. I am happy to meet you. You are Gerhard’s wife?”
Monika nodded, and Sofie hesitated. In a quiet voice that no one else would hear, she said, “You must be excited to see Max again after all these years. Does your family know about your relationship?”
She nodded again, slightly, but Sofie noticed she’d begun wringing her hands. “My family does not know,” Monika whispered.
“Do they know about your ‘travel’?” Sofie asked in a kind of coded inquiry.
“Gerhard knows. He also knows that I had a family there, although he never wanted to know about them. I think he felt that if I did not talk about them, their memory would fade away. Considering that I never thought I would see them again, I went along.”
“Have you talked to your father yet?”
“No. I have not the nerve. I must speak to him soon, though.” She paused, looked in direction in which Max had gone, and asked, “Why did Max leave? Is he angry with me?”
“Oh, no, he is upset with me, not you,” Sofie said. “It is complicated. He wanted to talk about things that I did not want to discuss on the trip here. At the moment, I think he needs some time alone.”
Monika nodded once more and seemed to be trying to decide whether to say something else. Finally, she said, “Lotte and Tobias told me a little about Birgitta’s murder. They did not know many details, especially about what happened to Max and his son afterwards. Lotte seems to think they got lost somehow.”
Sofie shrugged, not knowing the right thing to say. Had Lotte told her they were suspects? This is such a mess! Today should have been a joyous day, a family reunion of enormous proportions, both for her and Tobias, and for Max, Karl, and Monika, and yet here they were all feeling sad and fretful.
“It is complicated, I am afraid,” Sofie said. “We are all tired and stressed. The main thing is that you finally have your son back.”
Monika fidgeted with her hair as she glanced toward her husband who was standing near the barn. He was brushing his horse while he talked to Konrad. Turning her attention back to Sofie, she said, “I barely know Max anymore.”
Forgetting her own problems, Sofie tried to put herself in Monika’s place. How difficult it must be to be estranged from one’s family for such a long time and realize how you and they have grown apart.
“Do you not have a hug for your father?”
Both of the women and Tobias turned to identify the voice, then Sofie looked sideways at Monika. The older woman’s eyes had welled up with tears. She threw her arms around Karl, and he wept softly as he stroked her hair. It was the second time Sofie had seen him cry, but this time it was with tears of joy.
“Papa, I thought I would never see you again,” Monika said.
“We probably would not be here now, had it not been for Max and Sofie. Birgitta told me when Max first arrived that she believed Margrit’s spirit sent them here.” Karl laughed softly as he said it, but from the faraway look in his eyes, Sofie suspected he half believed it.
Monika, wiping the tears from her own eyes, said in a joking way, “I could see Mutter doing something like that. She was always feisty and a bit superstitious, too.”
Karl laughed and nodded. “Ja, she would have wanted us all back together. I am just surprised Max’s sister is not here as well. Perhaps she will appear next.”
Monika looked at Sofie, and said, “Perhaps Mutter knew something more than we do about Sofie. Maybe that is why she sent her, too.”
Karl’s expression darkened and Sofie wondered why. He was the one who had brought up Birgitta’s belief that Margrit had sent them. Why did he now seem upset?
Monika tilted her head. “Papa, did you not tell me that Vikktor had brought Sofie—”
Karl cut her off, saying, “Have you talked to Max yet?”
Monika closed one eye, studying his face, but she didn’t answer.
Now Sofie was bewildered. She glanced down at Tobias. He seemed confused, too. What the hell was going on? Karl was clearly trying to shift the conversation away from Monika’s question, and that question had something to do with Sofie. What was he hiding? Before she had a chance to question him, Karl said, “Speaking of Max, where is he? He should be here rejoicing in our reunion.”
Sofie and Monika exchanged looks, and Tobias shook his head.
“He seems to disappear as much as the rest of you,” Tobias said with a nervous giggle.
“Well,” Karl said, “speaking of missing people, where is Ryan? I want to introduce him to his grandmother.”
Sofie followed the others inside, listening to the introductions and pretending to be happy, telling herself she should be, but the mention of Max had set her mind to worrying about him again. She’d been happy to see him and had helped nurse him back to health. Their reunion, though stressful, had been wonderful only she couldn’t help but feel responsible for his injury. Ever since seeing him wounded, she’d been telling herself that she hadn’t been the one to stab him. But it didn’t matter. She’d been the one to send Max to the stable, creating the suspicion that sent him running; she was the one who had forgotten to pick up Tobias from school, which had led him to get hit by a car. Worst of all, she had driven the car and had the accident that had killed her husband and baby daughter in the U.S. She would never rid herself of the scars—physical and emotional—that came from that accident, and from causing the people she loved pain and even death.
Sofie hadn’t wanted to get involved with Max, or to fall in love. Maybe under normal circumstances, she would have resisted. Max hadn’t been looking for a relationship, either. He’d told her about his divorce and disillusionment with relationships. But time traveling and Max and Ryan’s dependency on her had brought them together. They had been, in a sense, joined at the hip.
Somewhere along the way, she’d begun to think she might allow herself another chance at love. Apparently, Max had done likewise. He might deserve another chance, but she didn’t. And yes, Tobias needed
a father, but he’d lost the only father he’d ever known—her husband, Jason. She couldn’t risk putting him through that suffering again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
MAX WAS LYING in the tall grass on a rise overlooking the farm with his hands behind his head for support, his eyes closed to block the afternoon sun’s rays. He had come up here, intending to sleep for a while to give his body a needed rest before facing his present problems, but to no avail; his mind kept wandering, focusing on his life, his current dilemma, and on his past failures.
One moment Sofie appeared in his mind’s eye, looking lovely and sweet in her apple green kitchen on the day they’d first met. Then he saw himself, Ryan, Sofie, Tobias, and Lotte walking along the dirt road that first night, after they had arrived here in the eighteenth century.
Odd details of that night stuck in his memory; moonlight from a harvest moon, sparkles from fireflies and extreme fatigue. He also noted with mild surprise how contented he had felt, regardless of their dire situation, just walking next to Sofie.
Trying again to entice sleep, his thoughts shifted to a less pleasant memory. They had been riding through the woods, and he was trying to talk to Sofie about Birgitta’s murder. She clammed up. If she thought Lotte had killed Birgitta, wouldn’t she want to talk to someone about it? He would. The only thing he could take away from her silence was that she thought he was responsible for the murder.
He grimaced and tried to squash the unwanted thought, telling himself that they had both been under extreme stress and that the worst of their ordeal was behind them, and hoping they might reconcile and work things out. He took a deep breath and let it out, again attempting to quiet his overactive brain.
All too soon, however, his ex-wife dominated his thoughts. She was yelling at him, saying she wanted a divorce. “Why?” he’d asked. “What did I do wrong?” “I don’t love you anymore,” she’d screamed at him, her crimson face etched in his mind. Then she’d quieted and said, “There’s someone else.” And there he had it.
Max rubbed his head, trying to ease the pain that had been building up. He forced himself to stop thinking about Jenny and Sofie, and focus on his other problems, his mother for one.
He was no longer sure what to say to her. He’d known days ago that they might find her, but somehow he’d envisioned her still being ‘his’ mother; not someone else’s mother and especially not several ‘somebody else’s’ mother.
If the young men in the search party were her sons, that meant she must have married within months of arriving in this time. Of course, in his mind that meant she’d betrayed his father, her ‘real’ husband. He told himself logically that it shouldn’t bother him, her being stuck here and all, and yet it did. It bothered him a lot. He remembered his father being frantic, torn apart emotionally, refusing to give up, hoping to find her. It was only years later, after she was legally declared dead, that he finally accepted the loss, began dating, and finally remarried. His father’s pain was his life for years.
Apparently, she hadn’t felt the same way. She’d wasted no time at all. Hell, even his grandfather, Karl, had waited a few years before remarrying. He hadn’t done it on a whim.
All these years, Max had worried about his mother, imagining her dying some horrifying death at the hands of some maniac, or being held captive somewhere. When he’d found out about the time portal and discovered that Karl was still alive and that Monika might also be alive, he’d been relieved and hoped to ‘rescue’ her.
Some rescue. She was probably happier here than she’d been back in America in the twenty-first century with her first family. The thought didn’t do anything to improve his disposition. He knew intellectually he would have to find a way to get over his anger and judgmental feelings, but intellect and emotion lived in different worlds.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t stay out here forever. He was going to have to face his mother eventually, especially if he wanted to see Sofie. And he needed to be careful. Karl and Monika were important to him in other ways besides being family. They perhaps held answers regarding how to make the time portal work.
Max also recognized the distinct possibility that he, Ryan, Sofie, Tobias, and Lotte would be stuck here, the same as Karl and Monika, and tried to prepare himself for that eventuality. He didn’t want to get his hopes up and then have them shattered later on, but his nature wouldn’t allow him to think that way; he had to maintain hope.
Even though Karl and Monika hadn’t been able to return home, Max told himself maybe if they all put their heads together, they could solve the puzzle and then they could all go home. Well, maybe not Mom. Seems her life is here now.
He finally made a decision. He would compose himself, go into the house, and face Sofie and Monika. He would do his best to resolve their issues. Somehow.
MAX TRUDGED UP to the porch of the farmhouse and froze, suddenly having second and third thoughts. Wouldn’t everyone be better off if he turned around and went away, far away, and let everyone get on with their lives? What use was he to anyone, anyway? Besides, the Feld gendarmes would continue after him, leaving the others to live their lives in peace.
He rubbed his temples, feeling as though someone had punched him in the gut. He damned himself for not being able to walk away. He should walk away, but couldn’t. He couldn’t make up his mind if it was because he loved Ryan and Sofie, or just because he was selfish and needed to look out for his own skin.
He stepped onto the porch and waited near the door. He could hear talking and laughing coming from inside the house. Taking a deep breath, he turned the knob and opened the door.
Tobias yelled, “Max is back.” Everyone turned to stare, making Max want to slink back out. The boy ran over to him and hugged him again.
“We’ve been waiting for you,” Karl said. “We were afraid we would have to send out another search party. Please, one rescue this week is enough.”
When Tobias translated that into German, laughter exploded throughout the room and Max winced. He liked to joke around as much as the next guy, but being the object of search parties and rescues was a sore subject with him at the moment.
Tobias’s laughter calmed and he again looked up at Max. “Your mother has food for you. Are you hungry?”
Max glanced around the crowded living room. He recognized some of the people, but there were at least four present that he’d never seen before. His stomach pains quickly claimed sway, over-powering his impulse to escape. Before he knew it, he was seated on a long wooden bench at the kitchen table, and his mother was piling food on a metal plate. He stared, ravenous, as she piled mounds of food onto his plate, barely able to keep from drooling. He couldn’t recall how long it had been since he’d seen that much food. It looked heavenly and made his mouth water. The instant she set the plate in front of him, he began shoveling food into his mouth.
Halfway through his plate, the muffled voices drifting in from the living room suddenly became louder and more distinct. He turned his head, curious, and found two teenage girls standing in the kitchen watching him, talking in German, probably talking about him from the looks he was receiving. It normally would have bothered him, but at the moment he didn’t care at all and turned his attention back to his plate. Right now nothing mattered except the food. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d tasted his mother’s cooking. She’d always been a good cook and apparently in any century she could work wonders in the kitchen. Though the meal was different—wurst with kartoffelknödel and leberkäse—he was told, whatever that was, it was the best meal he’d had since he’d arrived in Germany. If she always cooked like this, he wouldn’t mind sticking around a while.
Once he finished stuffing himself, the girls and his mother gathered the dishes from the table, chatting and laughing in German. Since Max couldn’t understand much of what they were talking about, he looked around. The kitchen was a more rustic version of the one in his grandmother’s house. A stone fireplace with stacks of wood took the place of a wood burning s
tove. Black cast-iron pots hung from large hooks set inside the fireplace. In one corner a rope and wood ladder hung against the wall. He turned around and looked into the adjacent living room. In it was another large stone fireplace with a well-worn woven rug in front of it. Several wooden chairs were scattered about. A loom with a small stool occupied one corner and a wooden staircase occupied another corner. Hmm. The staircase must go up to the bedrooms, but where does the ladder in the kitchen go, he wondered.
Tobias came in and sat across the table from Max. Max leaned toward him and quietly asked, “Do you know anything about that ladder? Where does it go?”
“It goes to the first bedroom. Your mother told us the house started out as a one room building with a sleeping loft. After the family grew, they added onto the house and added the stairs.”
Max nodded. “So, what did I miss before I got here—you know, while I was outside?”
Tobias said, “Your mother and Gerhard were whispering together for a while. I heard your name mentioned, and Karl’s and Birgitta’s.”
“Is Gerhard her husband, then?”
Tobias nodded. “You have brothers and sisters. Isn’t that cool? I wish I’d found some more family members. You’re lucky.”
“Hmm,” Max said.
“Your stepfather likes you.”
“Stepfather. Oh, yeah, I guess he would be. What about their kids? Which ones are theirs? Do they know about us, too, then?”
“No, but I think they plan to tell them tonight,” Tobias whispered. “Hanna, Sigrid, Konrad, and Henrik are their names.”
“Four kids,” Max said. “And the others—who are they?”
“Gunter is Hanna’s betrothed. That means fiancé in this time.” Max nodded. “Ulla is Konrad’s betrothed. Wilhelm is Konrad’s and Gunter’s friend.”
Max followed Tobias back to the living room, but a few moments later the boy disappeared upstairs, where Max guessed Sofie and Lotte were. The sun was already setting by this time and oil lamps and candles had been lit, giving the room a cozy feel. Someone had started a fire in the fireplace, and Karl and some of the men Max had traveled with were now gathered around it, talking. From Max’s perspective the heat from the fireplace seemed too warm. Ryan and Anneliese sat off to one side, holding hands, making moon eyes, and trying to talk to each other in both broken English and German. Max sat quietly for a time, trying to place names and relationships in his head, which was starting to pound. At least his stomach felt pleasantly full and satisfied.