Jody Hedlund

by A Noble Groom

  Idette and the other woman drew nearer with the buckets of water.

  Could he really stay and take Annalisa as his wife? The thought sent a shimmer of wild anticipation through his gut.

  “If your cousin is dead,” Herr Mueller said, spitting a glob of tobacco juice onto the hard, cracked field, “then why wait until spring? Why not have them marry now?”

  Several of the other farmers nodded.

  Carl’s blood pumped faster. If Dirk were dead—as he suspected—then Annalisa would need a new prospect for a husband.

  Why not him? Did he even dare consider marrying Annalisa and staying permanently?

  But Peter’s gaze narrowed on him, as if once again trying to solve a mystery. “What if Dirk shows up—next week, or next month? What will I give him if not Annalisa and her farm?”

  The farmers were silent.

  Idette approached the group, her face a mask of indifference. Her father reached for the bucket, but she ignored him and turned to Carl, holding the dipper to him first. She looked him directly in the eyes, and the intensity there told him she’d heard their conversation.

  “Thank you,” Carl said. He took the ladle and lifted the tepid water to his parched lips. Some of the farmers’ wells had already dried up, and fresh cold water was becoming a rarity.

  She didn’t respond, except that her eyes pleaded with him silently, as if she was begging him to marry Annalisa.

  He could understand her urgency. She wanted to keep Annalisa safe from a marriage like hers. Every time he thought about Annalisa wedding herself to a stranger, possibly someone abusive like Leonard, he nearly went crazy.

  But could he really marry Annalisa?

  Idette moved to the next man, but not before she silently pleaded with him again.

  Carl’s mind began to whirl like a freshly greased gear. “If Dirk comes,” he began, “he’d be a fool to expect any woman to put her life on hold for him. He would assume that any smart woman would think of her farm and her needs first.”

  Peter started to retort, but paused, his eyes wide in thought.

  Carl hurried to present a sound argument. “After these many months have elapsed with no word of his whereabouts, he’d expect you to do what’s necessary to ensure Annalisa’s well-being.”

  Except for the slurping of the men taking turns drinking water, silence descended over the group.

  Carl’s breath stuck in his chest. What was he doing? Why was he contemplating marrying Annalisa?

  He couldn’t. Not when he’d already made other plans with Fritz and was ready to move to Chicago. Sure, he didn’t have anything solid lined up yet for a teaching position. He would probably have to wait until the following semester or even next year. Nevertheless, he needed to go where he belonged.

  And he didn’t belong here among these men. Did he?

  Peter eyed him again, this time from his dusty, sweat-encrusted hat down to his scuffed boots.

  Carl resisted the urge to squirm. And what about his deception regarding his identity? How could he marry Annalisa without telling her the truth about who he really was?

  Peter wouldn’t even be considering letting Annalisa marry him if he knew he was Baron von Reichart’s son. He’d impale him with a pitchfork instead.

  “I don’t know . . .” Peter said.

  “You’re right,” Carl said quickly. “It wouldn’t work.” There were too many reasons why he couldn’t marry her. But the biggest barrier between them was the fact that he was a sworn enemy of her family. Even if he’d been able to ignore the guilt of his deception over the past couple of months, how could he live a lie the rest of his life? Wouldn’t the guilt eventually turn his soul black?

  And besides, he didn’t love her. He couldn’t deny that he was attracted to her and cared about her. But attraction wasn’t enough to base a marriage on.

  When he’d stood beside his mother’s grave and realized she’d died of a broken heart, he decided he’d never marry a woman unless he was truly in love with her. He didn’t want to jump into marriage for the wrong reasons.

  Did he have the right reasons for considering marriage to Annalisa?

  Of course he wanted to help her save her farm and keep her safe from Ward when he came back from Detroit. And he enjoyed being with her and Gretchen and Sophie.

  But was that enough?

  “We’ll give it a little more time,” Peter offered.

  Carl turned to the windrow, to the piles of hay that still needed loading. He jabbed his pitchfork into the bundle of alfalfa, ready to get back to work and forget about the discussion about marrying Annalisa.

  “I can only stay until after the harvest,” he said. “I’ll help Annalisa prepare for winter, but then I must leave.”

  Annalisa hugged Idette good-bye and pressed her hands against her sister’s thin cheeks, grateful for once that her beautiful face wasn’t marred with the bruises and cuts that had become all too common.

  Idette stood back and looked at Sophie’s sleeping face, peeking out from the sling Annalisa had sewn for carrying the baby. With both hands free, Annalisa was able to keep Sophie under her watchful eye and yet undertake the many tasks that needed doing during harvest.

  “You must come visit soon,” Annalisa said, wishing she knew a way to bring the smiles back to her sister’s face.

  Idette shook her head. “Len doesn’t want me visiting.”

  “Maybe when we have our barn raising?”

  Idette shrugged and then glanced sideways at the men.

  The sky had continued to darken, and the air had grown heavy with the scent of rain. They’d finished the day early, allowing time for everyone to return home and pray for a steady downpour.

  She couldn’t bear to think about what would happen if they didn’t get more rain soon. Without the usual rainfall, the wheat and oats had brought her only half of what they’d earned last harvest. And now she would need a strong crop of corn and potatoes to have a chance at paying off her loan.

  If the remainder of her crop suffered, she might as well pack her few belongings and give the farm to Ward.

  But she couldn’t let that happen, not after she’d worked so hard the past several years to make sure they could keep the farm. Somehow she’d have to find a way to earn the remainder of her loan money.

  “I overheard Vater,” Idette whispered. Then she glanced at Leonard, who was congregated with the other men. He’d kept Idette so busy throughout the day that she’d had little time to socialize with the women. “He was planning your marriage to Carl.”

  Annalisa’s heartbeat careened to a halt. She looked over to where Carl stood. His shirt was plastered to his back, outlining the muscles he’d developed over the summer. He said something to Uri and then shoved the boy playfully as they loaded the back of the wagon with tools and supplies.

  Since the barn fire, she’d tried harder to keep from caring about him, had tried to tell herself Carl would be safest if he left Forestville and all her problems.

  But was Vater ready to make other plans?

  With each passing day she’d begun to believe Dirk would never come. Perhaps now, after all these weeks, Vater was ready to let go of Dirk’s coming too and listen to what the neighbors were saying—that something must have happened or he would have arrived by now.

  “What did Carl say to Vater’s suggestion?” she whispered, hardly daring to breathe, not sure if she should admit to herself just how much she loved him and wanted to be with him.

  “He didn’t agree to it.” Idette glanced around warily. “But I could tell he wants to.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “You need to convince Carl to stay.” Idette lowered her voice. “Maybe you can conceive his baby.”

  Annalisa gasped. “Idette! How could you say such a thing?” She couldn’t look at Carl lest he see the mortification rushing over her. “It would be wrong. I cannot even think of it.”

  “You must find a way to keep him here,” Idette said. “Otherwise he�
�ll leave after the harvesting is done—”

  Leonard grabbed Idette’s arm and yanked her away from Annalisa. Somehow he’d managed to approach them without their knowledge, and now he pressed his lips together, and his eyes were dark with displeasure. “Don’t you have work that needs to be done?”

  Idette flinched but didn’t say anything.

  Leonard nodded toward the children, who were running in circles near the barn, chasing each other and laughing. “I told you to watch the children and keep them from being too loud.”

  Annalisa spotted Gretchen, her little legs barely able to keep up with the older children in their game of fox and geese. But she was breathless and laughing and happy.

  Idette’s features hardened, but still she didn’t say anything to her husband.

  “Stop being idle,” he said under his breath. His grip tightened around Idette’s upper arm so that his fingers whitened. “Go do as I’ve told you.”

  Idette glanced at the children, and then she waited a moment before pulling herself out of her husband’s grip and starting toward the children. She walked with slow, defiant steps.

  Leonard’s jaw flexed. Swiftly, without warning, he shoved her so that she was left with little choice but to move faster, except that she stumbled, tripped on the hem of her skirt and fell to her knees.

  She gave a muffled cry of pain and cradled her wrist, which she’d used to brace her fall.

  Carl stopped his bantering with Uri. His narrowed eyes went from Leonard to Idette and back again. Anger crowded out the playfulness, leaving his expression as cloudy as the evening sky.

  All the fear and anguish Annalisa had harbored for her sister over the past months rose to taunt her. She started toward her sister, but Leonard was at Idette’s side in two strides.

  He wrenched her up as if she were nothing more than a swathe of hay and pushed her forward again.

  The other farmers had paused in their conversations to watch. And although none of them said anything, the censure on some of their faces said they thought Leonard had been too harsh with his wife—especially publicly.

  “She’s easily distracted from her work,” Leonard explained with a tight smile. “And I’m always having to direct her and keep her on task. It’s very annoying.”

  Vater frowned at Leonard. She’d heard him have sharp words with Leonard over Idette on several occasions, but that hadn’t stopped Leonard from treating Idette the way he wanted. After all, a man could discipline his wife however he saw fit, including the use of physical force. Everyone knew the German common law allowed it.

  Annalisa wanted to chase after Idette and hug her. But she had the feeling she’d only be causing more trouble for her sister if she did so.

  Carl approached Leonard with lightning flashing in his stormy eyes. “Your wife’s a very hard worker. In fact, she worked harder than any of the other women here today.”

  Leonard’s fake smile disappeared. He crossed his arms and raised his brows, revealing cold eyes. “Are you telling me you were watching my wife today?”

  “I found it very difficult to miss the fact that you had the young girl running everywhere and doing everything.” Carl’s eyes turned equally frigid.

  “So you were watching her.”

  Carl lifted his chin and peered down at Leonard. “You are the kind of man that doesn’t deserve a woman, especially one like Idette.”

  Carl’s entire bearing, from his stiff posture to his clipped tone, reminded Annalisa of someone much wealthier and more powerful than a poor schoolteacher. It was at times like these that she felt as though she didn’t really know him.

  Leonard’s jaw flexed again, and the muscles in his arm rippled, as if he was thinking about hitting Carl. “Get yourself your own wife,” he finally said, in almost a growl. “Then maybe you won’t have to lust after mine.”

  Carl’s gaze flickered to Annalisa. “Even if I had a wife, I’d still be unwilling to tolerate the cruelty you’re bestowing upon yours.”

  “Until you’re married and have experienced the frustrations of a wife, you have no right to give marriage counsel.”

  “I have plenty of right. And if you’re not careful, I shall have to thrash you the way you do her.” And with that Carl spun away, dismissing Leonard like a lord would his servant.

  It wasn’t until after Carl had walked her home later that Annalisa had the chance to thank him for his kindness to Idette.

  “You were very heroic to defend Idette,” she said, stopping in front of the cabin door.

  Carl lowered Gretchen to the ground, having given her the usual horsey ride during the short walk from Vater’s farm. He tugged one of Gretchen’s braids, and in return she gave him a smile before dropping to crush Snowdrop in a hug.

  Admiration swelled in Annalisa, as it did every time she watched Carl interact with Gretchen. It caused a pang in her chest—a longing for Carl to be a permanent part of Gretchen’s life.

  The dog’s excited barking turned into slobbery licks across Gretchen’s flushed face.

  Even though Carl was covered in dust and bits of hay, his clothes stained with sweat and salt, he’d taken on a rugged, weathered look that only made him more handsome.

  “Leonard’s a beast,” he said, watching Gretchen. “I don’t know why Idette puts up with him the way she does.”

  “What can she do? He’s her husband. She has no choice but to do his bidding.”

  “She’s created in the image of God and deserves his respect and consideration on that simple fact alone.”

  Sophie wiggled within the sling and gave a tiny cry. Annalisa patted the baby’s back through the thin linen and simultaneously bounced her, wanting to linger with Carl but knowing she needed to nurse Sophie. She couldn’t keep from thinking about Idette’s advice to find a way to convince Carl to stay, about conceiving his child.

  The overcast evening sky was heavy with rain that refused to fall, and the humidity had grown oppressive, sticking to every crevice of her body, making her wish she could shed her garments.

  Such a tactic would definitely entice Carl.

  She blushed at the brazenness of her wayward thoughts. How could she even consider such a thing? It was wrong and would displease Gott.

  “Idette has a right to be treated with decency and kindness,” Carl said, peering at her.

  She glanced to her small crop of hay waiting to be mowed, praying Carl couldn’t sense her wayward thoughts. “Of course I wish my sister could experience a happy life and be free of the unkindness of her husband, but that isn’t reality. She’s married to him and must make the best of the situation.”

  “No one has to make the best of cruelty. Even a dog would run away from its master if he were beaten and intimidated the way she is.”

  “Then you think Idette should leave Leonard?”

  He shrugged. “I cannot advise her on whether she should stay or leave him. But I do think she deserves to have more choice in her life. She’s not his slave.”

  Annalisa couldn’t formulate a response. She could only cock her head at Carl’s strange words. Since when did women have choices about anything?

  “You aren’t at the mercy of the men in your life either,” Carl said, as if he could read the direction of her thoughts. “You must think about what you want too.”

  She shook her head. His radical views were the makings of a good story. But they weren’t the reality of her life or any of the women she knew. She started to speak, but her rebuttal was drowned out by Sophie’s squall. Reluctantly she retreated inside the cabin to tend to the baby.

  By the time she finished feeding Sophie and tucked both girls into bed, the rumble of thunder reverberated overhead. A few fat raindrops pattered against the roof, and the waft of cool air drifted through the open doorway and caressed her hot cheeks.

  She unwound her hair from the braided coil she’d worn under her scarf, letting her hair fall in thick waves over her shoulders.

  A gust swept into the stifling one-room cab
in, lifting the strands from her sticky neck and beckoning her into the fresh coolness of the descending night. The raindrops plunked against the hard earth. Its parched cracks opened to drink, but the few splatters were not enough to satisfy its thirst.

  Everywhere, the land struggled to survive. The sheaves of corn in the far field among the stumps were stunted and their leaves curled up. Mill Creek ran warm and sluggish, clogged with moss and slime. Even the leaves on the elm trees had already begun to turn yellow and dry.

  They needed several days of steady rain—if not more.

  And while the rain teased them with only mere sprinkles, she couldn’t resist the tug, the need to feel the wetness against her skin, to let the rare drops soothe her.

  She stepped outside and away from the cabin. She lifted her face to the heavens, feeling the freshness splatter against her cheeks and tasting the coolness against her lips.

  The tempo of the rain began to increase, soaking into her hair and her garments. She held out her arms and let the drops pelt against her hands.

  Was this it? The end of the drought?

  “Bitte, Gott,” she whispered. “Please let it rain harder.” She needed an outpouring, a true drenching for her corn to revive and give her the crop she so desperately needed.

  A movement by the lean-to caught her eye.

  She froze.

  Through the drizzle she could make out Carl’s outline, where he was perched on the edge of one of the stalls.

  “I can’t remember the last time we’ve had this kind of rain,” she called, fighting the embarrassment at being caught standing in the rain.

  He didn’t say anything. He only stared at her.

  “I thought you had already gone for the night.”

  His gaze made a circuit around her face to her hair to her shoulders and then down the length of her body.

  When she glanced down to her wet dress, she drew in a gasp. The splattering rain had plastered the thin linen to her body, outlining every womanly curve.

  He slid down from the post and stepped into the rain. With a jerk he tossed his hat to the ground.