by Jody Hedlund
Her breath hitched. Was she thinking of lying to him? Pretending she didn’t know him? Why?
She glanced at the road that ran past the Duff farm and then at his hand gripping her upper arm. “Please let me go, Reinhold.”
From the soft way she said his name, she knew him. And this time when she met his gaze, a quiet desperation emanated from her pretty features.
“What’s wrong?” Protectiveness surged into his chest. He’d always viewed her as he did his own sisters, with affection and concern. “Are you in some kind of trouble? I can help you.”
She shook her head. “I just need to go.”
“But you can’t go yet.” He had to make her stay for Elise and Marianne’s sake. They’d be overjoyed to discover Sophie was safe and alive. If she slipped away and disappeared, how would he find her again? And how would he be able to live with himself knowing he’d had her within his grasp but lost her? Such news would devastate Elise and Marianne.
“Your sisters have been so worried about you.” At the mention of her sisters, the panic returned to Sophie’s face, and she struggled against his hold.
He refused to let go.
“Reinhold, please,” she said, her big blue eyes pleading with him. “You can’t say anything to them. Don’t tell them you saw me.”
“I can’t do that. They have a right to know—”
“I don’t want to see them again.” Her words were brittle and final.
“But Elise and Marianne have been looking for you and will be glad to know you’re all right.”
“You can’t tell them.”
“How can I withhold such good news from them?”
Her eyes narrowed, and her nostrils flared. “If you say one word, I’ll leave and you’ll never see me again.”
He could sense she was serious, that she really would go, and that this time she’d make sure no one ever found her. “I don’t understand. Why don’t you want your sisters to know where you are and that you’re safe?”
She jerked and freed herself from his hold. Without answering him, she started striding toward the road.
He exhaled a frustrated breath and bolted after her. He’d have to do things her way, at least until he could figure out how to prevent her from running away. “Sophie, wait.”
She kept walking, lifting her chin and refusing to look at him.
“Fine,” he said. “I won’t say anything to Elise and Marianne.” For now. But he wouldn’t tell her that.
“Promise me,” she demanded without breaking her stride.
He didn’t want to promise her anything. He wasn’t a man who made vows and broke them. And if he promised her this, he knew he’d have to eventually break the promise. He couldn’t withhold Sophie’s whereabouts from her sisters for long. It would be cruel.
However, maybe in the short term, if he promised Sophie what she wanted, he’d be able to convince her she had nothing to fear, that she should be reunited with her sisters. He could help her do that, couldn’t he?
“All right, Sophie. I promise.”
Her footsteps slowed. “Do you mean it?”
“I’m a man of my word. You know that.”
She stopped and turned to face him. This time the fear was gone, replaced with uncertainty. “Promise me again. Promise you won’t tell Elise and Marianne you saw me.”
The tension in his shoulders eased. “As long as you promise you won’t leave the Duffs.”
Indecisiveness flittered in her eyes.
“They’re good people, Sophie. You couldn’t ask for a better place to live.”
She nodded as though having already come to that conclusion for herself. “I promise I won’t leave the Duffs.”
Reinhold had the feeling Sophie’s word didn’t mean as much as his, that she’d learned to lie to protect herself and that’s what she was doing now too. Even so, he’d bought himself some time to decide how to handle the situation. At least he hoped so. “Good. If you’ll stay, then I promise I won’t tell Elise and Marianne you’re here.”
“Or that you’ve seen me.”
“Or that I’ve seen you.”
She studied his face as if testing the sincerity of his words. Then she smiled. The sight of her smile lighting up her face nearly took his breath away. Gone was the little girl he’d once known, and in her place was this beautiful young woman with bright eyes, a vivacious smile, and features pretty enough to render a man speechless.
No wonder Lyle was tongue-tied around her. And no wonder his friend wanted to drop to his knees and propose marriage.
Reinhold started to smile at the image of his friend falling to his knees in front of Sophie, but then he had the picture of other men running after her, brutal men who lived on the streets, men who would use a woman like Sophie to sate their needs before discarding her like rubbish.
The realization that she’d already been out on the streets and exposed to such men sent a tremor of fear through him as well as a burst of determination. He had to keep her safe and stop her from returning to the streets. If that meant he had to hurt Elise and Marianne for the time being, then so be it. Hopefully they’d understand why he’d chosen to withhold Sophie’s whereabouts for a little while.
“Thank you, Reinhold,” she said, this time more shyly. In her expression he could see some of the Sophie he used to know, the sweet girl who looked up to him and admired him.
“I’ll do anything to make sure you’re safe and happy, Sophie,” he said earnestly. “You have to know that.”
“You’re wonderful.” Her smile widened, and then she threw her arms around him and hugged him.
The embrace took him off guard. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her in return. He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. All the many months of worry over Sophie, of wondering what had become of her, of thinking the worst had happened, and now here she was in his arms, alive and well. The thought brought a lump into his throat.
He held her tighter, as if in doing so, he could keep her from leaving.
She made no move to break from his hold. Instead she flattened her hands against his back and settled her cheek against his chest, against his heart. Her head nestled against his chin, her arms circled him in just the right place, and her curves melded into his body. Her very womanly curves . . .
The second the thought entered his head, he became instantly mortified. He swiftly released her and took a step back, praying she wouldn’t see into his mind and discover what he’d just been thinking.
“It’s good to see you.” She peered up at him again with admiration. “You look older than the last time I saw you.”
“Maybe that’s because I am older,” he said, keeping his voice light.
She laughed. “You have more muscles too,” she said and wrapped her fingers around his bicep, “and your face is more rugged.” She lifted a hand to his whiskered jaw and made a trail to his chin. He sensed a change in her, that she was seeing him as a man and not the boy he was when he’d left New York City.
Her eyes were trained upon his jaw and were so blue and vast that a man could easily wander in them and never get tired of the view. Her lips were slightly parted, the curves full and much too pretty. Her touch and her nearness and her beauty were captivating.
Drawing in a breath of self-rebuke, he took another step away from her, breaking her contact, and hopefully breaking the strange enchantment she seemed capable of casting over him with just one touch of her fingers.
“I can’t believe you’re really here,” she said, still scrutinizing him.
“I have my own farm down the road.” A motion on the front porch caught his eye. Euphemia was standing there, her apron and skirt fluttering in the breeze. She was watching them, likely worrying herself to death.
As much as he wanted to have Sophie to himself and ask her all about where she’d been and how she’d survived over the past two years, he knew they needed to return to the dinner Euphemia had prepared.
Besides, he had t
he feeling if he pushed Sophie to share too much too quickly, he’d only scare her away. She’d run from the Duffs the minute he left, and then he’d lose her and any chance of helping her.
“Euphemia’s worried,” he said, cocking his head toward the house. “Let’s go eat. She’s probably prepared a feast fit for a king—”
“A feast I helped her prepare,” Sophie said, clearly proud of her efforts.
He stopped and feigned distress. “If you helped her, then maybe I’ll pass.”
Sophie laughed again and elbowed him playfully. “For that, I’m making you eat a double portion of everything.”
As they bantered on their way to the front porch, Reinhold felt as though he was luring Sophie back to the house, back to safety, and back into the waiting arms of Euphemia, who would surely be able to convince her to stay even if he couldn’t. When they reached the porch, Euphemia studied them as if attempting to solve a riddle.
“Is everything all right now?” she asked.
“I think so.” Sophie arched a brow at Reinhold.
“Everything is just fine,” he replied, hoping Sophie would be assured that her secret was safe with him.
The evening passed much too quickly for Sophie. After eating supper and helping Euphemia clean up, she’d had no trouble finding Reinhold outside sitting on a fence rail near the barn with one of Euphemia’s sons. Reinhold had hopped down the moment he saw her, almost as if he’d been waiting for her.
“Let’s take a walk,” he suggested. They’d meandered to the rear of the house past Euphemia’s enormous garden and through a newly planted orchard, finally stopping along the edge of the pond.
They’d only just sat down when the sun began its descent, bringing with it a darkness Sophie had never encountered in the city. Away from the reflections of house lights and street lanterns, the blackness would have been frightening except that the stars here were more visible, plentiful, and brighter than she’d ever seen. The crescent moon cast a warm glow over everything too.
Reinhold identified the night’s noises for her—the trill of the crickets and throaty call of the peeper frogs—so different from the dance hall music and drunken laughter that often permeated nightlife in the city.
As they talked, she plied him with questions about her sisters, eager to hear every bit of news he had about them. He’d told her about his time in Quincy with Elise, about how she’d operated her own eating house. While there, she’d met and fallen in love with another man, a railroad tycoon. With a bit of chagrin he also shared about his failed engagement to Marianne last summer but how she’d also fallen in love and gotten married.
“A man by the name of Drew Brady, from a wealthy family too,” Reinhold said, skipping a rock across the glassy surface of the pond. “He works for the Children’s Aid Society.”
Drew Brady who works for the Children’s Aid Society. The name had a familiar ring. She’d heard it before, hadn’t she? Her mind spun as she tried to place the name. She pictured the handsome gentleman who’d been at the train station in New York City, the placing agent who’d planned to accompany their trip. He’d lined up the Pooles to take the place of him and his wife.
Was Marianne his wife?
Sophie started with the realization of how close she’d come to seeing Marianne that day, if indeed the Drew Brady that Reinhold spoke of was the same Mr. Brady she’d seen.
He had reacted rather oddly to her, as if he’d recognized her, which had been strange because she was sure they’d never met. What if Marianne had described her? Or what if he’d seen the family resemblance? Sophie looked more like Elise than Marianne, but perhaps Mr. Brady had seen something in her face that seemed familiar.
What had Mr. Brady said about his wife and the reason they weren’t going on the trip with the orphans? Had he said something about his wife’s sister having a baby?
“Is Elise pregnant?” she asked.
“She had a baby several days ago.”
Elise had given birth? Was the baby a girl or boy? What had she named it?
A yearning whispered in Sophie, the yearning for her sisters that she’d been unable to escape no matter how hard she’d tried to ignore it.
She was an aunt. She had a tiny niece or nephew. As much as she ached to see the new baby and hold it, embarrassment drove the idea away. If what Reinhold said was true about Elise and Marianne both having married wealthy men, then she was an even greater failure than she’d thought. They’d both obviously done well for themselves and had made something meaningful of their lives.
All she’d made of her life were mistakes.
Apparently both women had been able to move on without her there to hold them back, just as she figured they would. And yet somehow knowing they’d moved on without her and were doing so well brought an ache to her chest, a familiar ache that felt too much like rejection all over again.
With her shifting mood, she switched the conversation away from her sisters and asked Reinhold to tell her about his move to Mayfield and his efforts to start his own farm.
While he’d answered her questions about what he’d done since moving to the West, she sensed he hadn’t shared everything. She couldn’t fault him for keeping some of his life and feelings closed off, not when she’d done the same thing. She’d only given him a bare sketch of where she’d lived and what her life had been like since running away.
She was too ashamed to admit to him that after running away with Olivia and Nicholas, she’d resorted to thieving to keep them from starving. She’d become quite accomplished at breaking into shops and bakeries and stealing what they needed to eat. She’d even picked the pockets of people on the streets for change that she could use to buy food.
As time had gone on, she’d gotten into her share of fights with other street children, pushing and hitting and clawing for the right to a warm doorway or a coal box out of the biting wind. Even in the orphan asylums, she’d lied and cheated and stolen to make life easier and better for Olivia and Nicholas. She’d always justified her actions, telling herself that as long as Olivia and Nicholas were safe and happy, nothing else mattered.
But with each crime, with each sin, she’d pushed herself further away from God and from her sisters. She’d done so many things that Elise and Marianne would never condone, things they would never have done to survive.
Even when all three of them had been homeless and hungry, Elise and Marianne had found jobs and earned their food and shelter. They’d maintained their integrity instead of compromising time after time like she had.
The fact was, she’d sunk lower than she’d ever imagined she would. And after all she’d done, she was too afraid to face her sisters. They’d want to know how she survived. They’d see past any excuses she offered. And they’d see her for the terrible person she’d become.
When Reinhold finally led her back to the barn, he slowed his steps to match hers.
“I saw Olivia and Nicholas at church this morning,” she said as they reached his wagon. Someone had lit a lantern and hung it from a post just inside the barn’s open door, which helped to push back the darkness to the edges of the yard. “I was only able to talk to them for a few minutes.”
Nicholas chattered endlessly about all the new things he’d seen and done. Olivia had been quieter and less enthusiastic, but she hadn’t complained.
Sophie hadn’t been able to stop thinking of the two all day. And the ache in her chest had expanded until she’d felt as though she’d explode with the need to be with the children. She’d wanted to walk over to the Ramseys and visit with them, but the day had gone too quickly, and before she knew it, Reinhold and Jakob Weiss were standing in the kitchen.
“I don’t know the Ramseys well,” Reinhold admitted. “But they seem like decent people.”
“I hope so.”
Reinhold stopped next to the horse that someone—probably Jakob—had attached to the wagon while they’d been on their walk. He ran a hand along the horse’s muzzle affectionately, and So
phie couldn’t keep from noticing how strong his hand was. And his arm. And his shoulders.
The lantern illuminated his profile, still thick and brawny but more pronounced than she remembered. The layer of dark stubble coating his jaw and chin made him look so grown up. The brown hair at the back of his neck curled along the collar of his shirt.
As if sensing her perusal, he shifted and looked at her. His green eyes were fringed with thick dark lashes. She’d always loved his eyes. In fact, she’d always thought Reinhold was handsome. Of course, half the girls in their New York City neighborhood in Kleindeutschland had thought so too, including Marianne. But at the time, Reinhold only had eyes for one woman—Elise.
Sophie could never understand why Elise hadn’t returned Reinhold’s affection. What was there not to like about him? He was sweet, kindhearted, and incredibly good-looking. Sophie was secretly glad Elise hadn’t married Reinhold. He deserved a woman who would appreciate and love him in return.
As though sensing the direction of her thoughts, Reinhold’s fingers on the horse’s muzzle came to a standstill. His gaze moved languidly over her face, studying her the same way she had him. How did he view her now? He hadn’t recognized her immediately, so she must have changed enough that she’d surprised him.
Did he like what he saw? Did he think she was pretty?
Something seemed to spark in his eyes, something that charged the air between them and made a warm trail through her belly. He jerked his attention back to the horse and resumed stroking between her eyes and down her nose. He wasn’t a blushing man, not with his sunbrowned skin, yet his discomfort was palpable.
Sophie was used to men thinking she was beautiful. Danny had fought for the right to claim her as his Bowery Girl because he’d thought she was more beautiful than all the other women. Even so, she’d never primped over her appearance or cared whether she was attractive.
However, standing in the lantern light with this man she’d always admired, a strange desire swelled inside her, a desire for him to see her in her own right and not merely as the younger sister of the woman he’d once loved.