by Susan Finlay
While he ate, Monika sipped her milk and watched him. Hanna had gotten up and was tending the fire. Tobias was a cute boy with curly blonde hair and big blue eyes, which made her think of all the grandchildren she’d never met, that she hadn’t cuddled and spoiled. Would she make up for missing that when she saw the grandchild she was going to have by year’s end? Did Max’s children look like their parents? How many birthdays had she missed?
Suddenly, she pictured Max on his ninth birthday, with his blonde hair—it had darkened some as he grew up—and his blue-gray eyes. He’d made a wish and was about to blow out the candles on his cake, but his sister had beaten him to it. Monika had to pull Max and Diana apart because Max had been upset. Diana, with her blonde curls and clear blue eyes had cried and acted innocent, as if she hadn’t done anything wrong. Monika shook her head at that long ago memory.
Sigrid, who had walked in and sat down at the table, said, “Mutter, who is Max?”
Monika sighed and closed her eyes, wishing all her problems would disappear.
When she opened them, Hanna, Sigrid, and Tobias were staring at her.
Lotte suddenly burst into the room. “Guten morgen, everyone,” she said, sounding cheerful and full of energy.
Everyone turned their attention on her, giving Monika a brief reprieve.
“Guten morgen,” Monika said. “Did you sleep well?”
“I did. The bed I slept in was wunderbar compared to the hard ground on which we slept during our journey here. And I did not have to fight off bugs and flies and mosquitoes.”
Silence suddenly filled the air, and all eyes turned back to Monika.
“Mutter,” Sigrid said, “you were going to tell us who Max is.”
Monika felt panic rise up into her throat. She didn’t know how to even begin.
“Max is my great-niece’s friend,” Lotte said, coming to Monika’s aid.
Hanna and Sigrid looked at each, clearly confused. “But Tobias said—
“It will all make sense in time,” Lotte said. “For now, why do we not have some fun getting to know each other? I would love to see your farm. Perhaps we could also go into Senden or Ulm. I have never been to Ulm. It will do Anneliese good to get out for a while. The poor girl has been traumatized.”
Monika turned her head and looked at the girl—her second-cousin or something like that—sitting at the kitchen table. Anneliese was so quiet that Monika hadn’t even noticed she’d come down the stairs. Her eyes looked swollen, her face pale as a ghost.
Monika said, “That is a splendid idea. We will go into Ulm. I need to post wedding bans for Hanna there anyway. We can shop for cloth for her wedding dress. I want to use a lovelier fabric than we normally use. If we work together, we can make a beautiful dress.”
Hanna smiled, folding her hands in her lap.
Sigrid glared at her for a second, then turned and faced the others. “We have to milk the cows first.”
Hanna’s smile faded.
“Can I help?” Tobias asked.
“Of course you can,” Sigrid said. She stood up abruptly.
“Yes!” Tobias said. “I have always wanted to milk a cow.”
“You have never milked a cow? How is that? Do you not have animals on your farm?” Hanna asked, her eyebrows quirked in confusion.
Tobias squirmed in his seat. “Oh, well, we do not have a farm.”
“Really? Where do you live? Is your father nobility? Do you live in a magnificent manor house?”
“Uh, no. We live in a city. Riesen.” He looked at Lotte, and added, “We all live there.”
As he gazed around the table, Monika thought he looked nervous.
Hanna asked, “This Max person lives with you? Is he your stepfather? I’m confused.”
Tobias fidgeted and squirmed again. “He is not yet but maybe soon. He says he wants to marry my mutter.” He suddenly turned red-faced. “Oh, I . . . I was not supposed to say anything. Max will be angry with me.”
Monika smiled at him and thought it must be difficult for him trying to deal with all of this. According to Lotte, they’d been traveling for weeks in a carriage. Whether Tobias was close to Birgitta or not, he would likely have difficulty dealing with her loss. And then his mother and Karl had all left him here with strangers for the most part. Fortunately, his great-aunt was here, too. How was he dealing with the time travel? Even at forty years old, assimilating in this century had been very difficult for Monika. She could well imagine the questions he must be having.
“You have traveled a long way and been stuck on a wagon,” Monika said, smiling at him. “Getting into another is probably the last thing you want. You’d rather run around and play, right?”
He smiled and nodded.
“Then you and the girls may spend the morning outdoors, tending the animals and playing, while Birgitta and I make preparations for a visit to town.”
Tobias smiled sweetly at Monika, and she realized that she liked him more than she’d expected.
After a light mid-morning meal, they were ready to head into town.
“Can I take Valkyrie with us?” Tobias asked.
Monika said, “Oh, dear boy, I am sorry but she would be much happier here in the house where she can catch up on her beauty sleep or outside in the barn where she can hunt for mice. We have plenty of mice for her in our barn. Either way, she might like some time to herself.”
Tobias looked sad, and Monika thought he would cry. “I miss my mother.”
Of course, the cat is his security blanket. Monika bent down in front of him and looked into his eyes. “I am sure your mother will be back soon.”
Tobias tried to smile, but his smile was lopsided and Monika’s heart went out to him.
Walking to their farm wagon, she took Tobias’s hand in hers. He smiled up at her, then looked back toward the house, waving to the cat who was sitting on the porch watching them.
After they piled onto the wagon for the short trip to Ulm and got under way, Monika reflected back on the morning. She had luckily gotten through it without having to explain the situation to her daughters, mainly because Lotte and Tobias had diverted the conversation, buying her time which she sorely needed. She hoped to wait until Gerhard returned before telling the girls everything. With Gerhard there, perhaps she might manage.
Monika had meant what she’d said about needing to go into town. Hanna’s news had given her much work to do. Now, instead of one wedding to plan—Konrad and Ulla’s in the fall—she had two weddings. Unfortunately, she would have considerably less preparation time for Hanna’s, which by need would have to occur within the next month, assuming they could be ready by then.
Driving over the bridge across the Danube River, they rode along the cobbled streets of Ulm, passing rows of houses, a tavern, their one church, and a barber’s basin before finally stopping in front of a row of shops.
“Here it is,” Monika said. “I am sure we can find the cloth we need for Hanna’s wedding dress in this shop.” She glanced at Lotte who was sitting beside her in the front of the wagon. “Would you mind watching Tobias, Anneliese, and Sigrid while Hanna and I shop?”
“Of course. Go. We will have a nice chat and look around,” Lotte said, smiling broadly at her companions. “Take as much time as you need.”
Monika and the other females climbed down from the wagon, and Lotte reached out her hand to help Tobias down, but he ignored it and jumped down on his own. Hanna and Monika walked up to the shop and as they were about to enter, Monika turned to see where the others were going.
Lotte looked at her and waved, and said, “We will stretch our legs a bit. We will stay outside and leave you to your shopping.”
Monika smiled, following Hanna inside.
When Monika and Hanna exited the shop carrying arms full of cloth and other materials for the wedding dress, the others had already returned to the wagon. As the two set the materials in the wagon Tobias asked, “May we visit Birgitta’s hometown? I think it’s nearby.”
/> “Where?” Monika asked. Her eyebrows were drawn together and she was curious yet dubious.
“Krumbach,” Tobias said. “She told me about it while we were riding in the carriage.”
God, I lived here all this time and did not know I might have relatives nearby. Monika wanted to ask him if that’s where her mother had grown up, but she couldn’t really do that without getting questions she was not prepared to answer, not only from her daughters but also from Anneliese and Tobias. As far as she knew, judging from what Lotte had told her, no one else knew about her father and mother’s earlier time travel.
She took a different tact. “Does Birgitta have relatives there?”
“I think so,” Tobias said. “She told me most of her family live near Riesen, though. Isn’t that right, Anneliese?”
“Ja. Well, but some are scattered around Bavaria and Franken, I guess.”
Monika’s heart lurched. Birgitta had relatives scattered in the area. Birgitta’s relatives were her relatives, too—if Lotte was telling the truth. The enormity of that bombshell hit hard. Gerhard’s family was in the region, too, and she loved that, but these people would be her blood relatives and they’d been right here all along.
“It would be lovely to meet them some time,” she said, trying to sound casual and quickly thinking of reasons to visit them. “We could use a nice outing. I suppose someone will have to notify them of Birgitta’s passing. Not today, though. We will have to wait until the others return. It’s not wise for us to travel very far without the men. Besides, we have enough to worry about until they are safely back at the farm.”
Leaving the shop, they drove down several cobbled streets, past the Fishermen’s and Tanners’ quarters, cart builders, smiths, a baker, and a butcher shop, finally parking the wagon at the market square in the town center, where they exited the wagon to look around and continue shopping.
Merchants yelled out to them, trying to sell their wares. Almost everything one could imagine, at least everything in the eighteenth century, seemed to be on display, from tanned leather, weapons, paints, varnishes, timber, and furs, to soap, paper, ink, fish, fruit, olive oil, pottery, wheat, and spices from the orient.
Monika purchased fresh fish, salt, and spices, handing the wrapped package to Sigrid, then stopped to post the wedding bans. Afterwards, Monika suggested they take some time to stroll around and enjoy the town and the beautiful day. Sigrid handed the package back to her mother, then walked with Anneliese and Hanna a few feet ahead of Monika and Tobias. Lotte was in the rear.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
LOTTE TURNED TOWARD the whisper and spied a hand waving around the corner of a nearby shop. A man momentarily stuck his head out and Lotte, recognizing his face, covered her mouth with her hand. She glanced ahead at Tobias, Monika, and the girls. As far as she could tell, they were all distracted and busy watching some kids chasing chickens down the road and hadn’t seen or heard Vikktor. She edged toward him.
“I have never been so happy to see anyone in my life,” she whispered. “How did you find me?”
“I have my ways. Do you have a wagon here?”
“Ja. Well, it is not my wagon. It belongs to Monika, Karl’s daughter.”
‘She is with you?”
“Ja.”
“I need that wagon. Can you get it for me?”
“You will take me with you?”
“Of course.”
“How can I get the wagon?” she asked. “Monika and her family are right over there.” She pointed. “Her wagon is that one.” Again, she pointed. They were very close to it.
“I will get my men to create a diversion. We grab the wagon. I will pick you up later. Where are you staying?”
“At the Hoffmann farm halfway between here and Senden.”
“I will get word to you soon.”
Lotte nodded.
SUDDEN SCREAMS DOWN the street made everyone stop in their tracks and stare toward the commotion. Shouting followed, and people started running toward the source. Monika yelled, “We must get back to the wagon right away.”
Unfortunately, no one in her group heard her. The three teen girls were already caught up in the noisy crowd, running toward the commotion. Monika took off after them, pushing her way into and through the throng. As the girls disappeared around a corner, she stopped in her tracks, remembering Tobias and Lotte. Where were they? Was the boy with Lotte? Was he safe? If she ran after the girls, and Tobias wasn’t with Lotte, he might get lost, or trampled even. Her girls were older and were at least familiar with this town, but as a mother she felt the need to protect her babies. Before she could decide what to do, Tobias screamed her name. She turned around. He was standing in the road, tears streaking down his cheeks, many people still swarming the area, but she couldn’t see Lotte anywhere. She rushed to him, pushing her way back through the crowd.
Monika grabbed Tobias by the shoulder, and continued to search for Lotte. “Oh, thank God,” she said when she spied to Lotte walking to her moments later. “We need to find the girls.”
“I saw them heading that way,” Lotte said, pointing toward the growing mob.
Again entering the crowd, Monika craned her head, searching through the mass of people for the girls. This was the last thing she needed. Oh, God. If I lose these girls, there will be no one to help find them. She certainly wasn’t helpless, but in times such as these, she realized how much she relied upon Gerhard. She elbowed her way forward, frantic to find her daughters.
RYAN STARED UP at the thick clouds gathering overhead, threatening to dump their burden at any moment. He needed to somehow get his father to safety before that happened. Max was slumped over and had almost fallen off the horse a few minutes earlier. He might even be dead. Ryan held back tears and scanned the area. A loud crack of thunder made him jump.
Max pulled himself upright slightly. His face looked pale, almost ghostly.
“Oh, thank God, you’re alive,” Ryan said. “You scared the bejeebies out of me.”
“Sorry. You should help me down from this horse and leave me under a tree. Go on ahead and look for Gramps and Sofie. Get yourself to safety.”
“I’m not leaving you, Dad.”
“Don’t worry about me. It’s my fault you’re stuck in this century. Find Gramps. Make a good life, whether it’s here . . . or back home. Make a life with Anneliese, if that’s what you want.”
“You can’t give up.”
“Already have . . . soldiers looking for us.” He winced in pain and rubbed his forehead covered with sweat. “Those farmers . . . might be hunting us, too. I love you, son. You’ve gotta get away . . . from here. Leave me.”
Max went silent again and hung his head down. Ryan nudged his horse forward again, pulling his father’s along with him as he’d been doing for the past half hour. They rode up another steep hill and stopped at the top. From this vantage point Ryan could see in all directions—the town, several farms including the one where they’d spent the night, a forested area, and a meadow. In that meadow he could see a small cabin—at least that’s what it looked like from there.
Thunder clapped again and large raindrops started falling. Ryan inched down the hill because Max was barely hanging on and any sudden movement or misstep might topple him off the horse. Once they were on level ground again, Ryan picked up the pace slightly.
When they reached the cabin—what was left of it—Ryan jumped down from his horse and quickly surveyed the building and surroundings. Concluding it was abandoned, he returned to his father’s side and touched his father’s slumped shoulders. Max had passed out again. Ryan tugged at his body and eased him off the horse as gently as he could, then half-carried, half-dragged him into the cabin, groaning. Ryan’s face was soaked with rain and his own tears.
The cabin was dark and Ryan could barely make out a few shapes in the middle of the only room; two broken chairs, a table, and a couple of fallen boards where the roof had partially caved in. Rain dripped and spattered into a puddle on
to the table through that overhead opening. He carefully carried his father to a dry corner and laid him on the floor. After checking his pulse as he’d seen his nurse mother do many times and finding it weak but steady, he examined the wound on Max’s abdomen. His shirt was blood-soaked. Ryan pulled off his own shirt and tied it around Max’s abdomen, attempting to stop the bleeding.
Satisfied he’d done all he could for his father at the moment, he went back outside to secure the horses to prevent them wandering off. He took a flask out of his saddlebag, carried it inside, and dribbled the wine into Max’s mouth. Then he tore a piece of cloth from Max’s shirt, uncovered Max’s wound, and poured some wine on the cloth. He gently wiped around the wound. The bleeding seemed to have stopped, at least for now. Should he pour wine directly onto the wound? He didn’t know. It might help prevent infection, but would probably cause his father considerable pain. It might also start up the bleeding again.
Ryan sat on the floor next to his father, tears flowing, and took his father’s hand. “Dad, I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have suggested we spend the night in that barn. I shouldn’t have been with Anneliese in the stable, either.”
Max didn’t give any sign he had heard him.
“Please don’t die and leave me all alone. I’m sorry. Don’t give up. Please.”
As the rain slowed, Ryan detected soft snores coming from his father. That’s a good sign, isn’t it? His mother could answer that if she were here. She could have properly treated Max, too, and maybe save his life. If I hadn’t messed up, if I had continued volunteering at the hospital, could I be able to help him better now?
The silence was almost unbearable. Ryan wiped his sore eyes, the tears having dried up. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the dim light, he stood up to explore the room—anything to take his mind off his father’s injury.