MB02 - A Noble Groom (31 page)

The grittiness of sawdust lingered in the air, along with the freshness of the new boards. Carl took a deep breath, catching the coolness of the late August evening. It was the perfect night, or would have been if he had the chance to stand closer to Annalisa and win one of her smiles, which had been nonexistent over the past week.

The knot in his gut told him he was the cause of her discomfort, that he’d hurt her when he walked away from her the day in the rain after he’d kissed her.

“Peter.” Pastor Loehe leaned closer to Annalisa’s father.

Peter was perched against the rail of Old Red’s new stall, his hair damp with sweat, and the usual dark splotches under his arms. He was arguing with several other farmers about how severe the coming winter was going to be following the hot, dry summer.

“Peter!” Pastor Loehe shouted this time.

The burly man stopped mid-sentence and gave the pastor his attention.

“Tell Carl he needs to go ask your daughter to dance.”

Carl just shook his head.

“He can’t keep his eyes off Annalisa,” Pastor Loehe explained.

Peter laughed. “That’s not unusual, Herr Pastor. He is a man and my daughter is comely. What do you expect?”

“At the very least, don’t you think it would be wise for the two of them to get married? After the summer, it’s quite clear they are a good match.”

Peter shrugged. “I gave my word to Carl that he could marry Annalisa in the spring.”

“I don’t think we should make them wait that long.”

Peter’s grin disappeared, and he leveled a scowl upon Carl.
“Why? Are you fornicating with my daughter?” His words boomed through the barn, rising above the accordion and causing heads to turn.

Carl squirmed with uneasiness. He wanted to slink through the back door, run the four miles to town, and board the first steamer that was leaving in the morning.

How could he defend himself, especially after he’d almost lost control with Annalisa? He was ashamed to admit how close he’d come to giving in to his desires, and he’d berated himself plenty of times during the past week. And now the shame came roaring back, reminding him of how much he wanted to protect and cherish her, and how he wouldn’t be doing that if he used her for his own needs.

“After I’ve trusted you all summer to honor her, are you now taking advantage of her?” Peter bunched his fists and took a step toward Carl.

“I won’t deny that I’ve been tempted.” Carl braced himself. He deserved Peter’s fist in his face and would stand and take his punishment for kissing her. “But please know I don’t want to do anything that might hurt Annalisa.”

Peter stared at him, his fists still rounded.

Pastor Loehe patted the big farmer on the back. “Carl’s a decent man. It’s plain to everyone how much he cares for Annalisa and her children.”

Carl couldn’t protest. He did care about Annalisa. But did he
love
her? Frau Loehe had claimed that he and Annalisa loved each other. But how could he know for sure that what he felt was love and not just obligation or affection or physical attraction?

“I told Carl earlier in the evening,” Pastor Loehe continued, “that he should just marry Annalisa tonight.”

Carl shook his head. “You know I’m planning to leave in a
couple of weeks, that I’m moving on to Chicago.” He stuck his hand in his pocket, to the crumpled slip of paper there. It seared his fingers and sent a burning trail to his stomach, like it had every time he thought about the note since he’d received it.

Yesterday, when he’d been in town picking up the barn supplies, one of Ward’s workers had slipped him the note. All it said was, “I know who you are.”

But it was enough for Carl to realize his identity was no longer a secret. Somehow Ward had figured out who he was. And now that Ward knew, he was bound to try to blackmail him.

“I thought you were staying until spring.” Peter’s frown deepened.

“I said I’d stay until after harvest. But that’s all—”

“I thought we had a deal.”

“No. I never agreed to stay—”

“Then I’ll let you marry her tonight.” Peter raised his hands as if conceding defeat. “I have to agree with everyone else—that if Dirk hasn’t come by now, he won’t be here in the spring either.”

Several other men nodded.

“The poor man is probably in the belly of a great fish just like Jonah,” Peter said, “only he isn’t going to be quite as lucky as good old Jonah and get spit out on the shore.”

Carl pulled at the collar of his shirt. Suddenly the air around him had become stifling.

“So what do you say?” Peter’s grin crept back. “If you want my daughter for your wife tonight, I give my consent.”

Pastor Loehe and the other men turned to Carl.

Panic rumbled through him like a brigade charging toward battle. “What about Annalisa? Shouldn’t we take into consideration what she wants?”

“Annalisa’s an obedient daughter
.
She’ll do as I tell her.”

“Ach, just go dance with her, son.” Pastor Loehe gave him a gentle push. “And when she’s in your arms, you’ll see that you want to marry her just as much as she does you.”

Before Carl could protest, he found himself propelled across the barn floor toward Annalisa amidst hoots and suggestive calls from the men.

Annalisa’s eyes widened when she saw him coming, and she stopped speaking mid-sentence.

He had no choice but to stand before her like a besotted fool. And he had no choice but to make the best of the situation. He wasn’t going to give in to their pressure to marry Annalisa, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t dance with her, did it?

With a short bow he held out his hand to her. “My lady, I’d be honored if you’d grant me the pleasure of your company for the next dance.”

She hesitated. Her gaze darted around, and seeing that they were the center of attention, a rosy flush bloomed in her cheeks.

The strains from Herr Mueller’s accordion faded. For a long moment the whole barn seemed to hold its breath in anticipation of Annalisa’s answer.

When Herr Mueller began to play another dance, this one slower, Carl’s heart thumped with the thought of holding her hands and being near her.

Frau Loehe nudged Annalisa. “Go on, dearie. Dance with him.”

As if realizing she had as little choice as he did, Annalisa placed her hand into his. Her fingers trembled against his.

Was she nervous to be around him?

He wouldn’t blame her. Not after the way he’d taken advantage of her and kissed her.

The traditional dance required them to place their hands on each other’s shoulders and for them to twirl together, all the while moving in a larger circle with the other couples.

He bent toward her ear and spoke softly as they glided around the barn floor. “You were amazing today.”

She ducked her head.

“I appreciate all your hard work. It was no easy feat feeding all these people.”

Only then did she lift her eyes to meet his. The blue shimmered with questions.

“I think you had one of the hardest jobs of all today.”

“Nein. You’re too kind.” The stiffness in her shoulders eased. “I don’t know how I would have organized the rebuilding of the barn, if not for your help.”

He’d been surprised at the degree of knowledge required in building the barn—everything from purchasing the supplies to joining the beams at the exact locations to form a solid structure. The farmers weren’t simpletons. In fact, many of them proved to be more knowledgeable than he when it came to building and construction.

He parted with Annalisa as they circled in opposite directions, the men in an inner circle going one way and the women on the outside going the other. He couldn’t keep from watching her and noticing she was the most beautiful woman there.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, once she was in his arms again.

She trembled and stared at his chest as they swirled in quick steps with the accordion.

“Now it’s your turn for a confession.” He tried to make his voice lighthearted, even though he felt anything but playful. “You have to admit I’m the most dashing man here.”

His words had the effect he’d hoped for. Her lips curved into
the beginning of a smile. “You were much more handsome when you were holding Sophie earlier.”

“Oh, is that so?”

She nodded and let her lashes fall against her cheek.

“Then I guess I shall have to carry her around more often.”

“And I guess I’ll have to make you a sling just like mine so that you can hold her wherever you go.”

He laughed softly. “I’d certainly make every man here jealous if I had a sling. They’d be knocking me over to get a hold of it.”

Her lips finally tugged into a full smile, one that made him realize how much her smiles fed his soul.

How could he live the rest of his life without them?

Maybe he should stop fighting the pressure of the men and himself and give in to his need to be with Annalisa. What if he did love her and was just too afraid to admit it?

And what if he could find new fulfillment in a simpler life? As Pastor Loehe said, maybe he could use his education and skills to bless the community.

Whispers of his deception taunted him and reminded him of his lie to them about his identity. The paper in his pocket flamed hot again. But he let the clamor of his pounding heart drown out the objection. Certainly he could find a way to silence Ward if the man made any effort to blackmail him.

The dance ended all too quickly, and rather than let Annalisa slip away from him, he reached for her hand and begged her to dance with him again. And again. And again.

Until finally, breathless and laughing, he led her to the edge of the crowd where they leaned against the new boards of the barn wall and soaked in the coolness against their flushed bodies.

He didn’t relinquish her hand but instead intertwined her
fingers through his and in the process pulled her closer so that their shoulders were touching.

“I think the men are wagering over there.” He nodded to the other side of the barn, where Peter and some of the other older farmers were gathered.

Annalisa made no move to dislodge her fingers from his. “What are they wagering on tonight? When we’ll have our first hard frost?”

Carl grinned. “No, I think they’re wagering on something else this time.”

She rested her head against his upper arm, lightly, almost hesitantly.

His breath hitched in his chest, and he had the desire to wrap his arm around her. He couldn’t keep from leaning in to her, bending toward her ear, pretending to whisper something but instead pressing his lips there.

She gasped, but made no move away from him.

His body tightened with the need to kiss her again—this time on the lips. But he drew in a ragged breath and forced himself to think rationally. He couldn’t kiss her right there in front of everybody.

“I think they are wagering on us,” he whispered, staring at the stretch of her neck that was only a breath away.

“Wagering on us?”

He nodded. Suddenly all his concerns, all the reasons why he shouldn’t marry her seemed insignificant. Why did it matter who he was in his past life? He was no longer Gottfried Charles von Reichart. He was no longer the same weak, pampered nobleman who had stepped off the steamboat.

The past months had given him a taste of a life he’d never known, and although he never thought he’d like farming, he’d adjusted much more than he’d believed possible.

Now he was simply Carl Richards. He was someone new here. Wasn’t he? And that was all that mattered anymore. One little deception about his identity didn’t have to stop him from taking Annalisa as his wife, did it?

“They’re wagering on whether we’ll get married tonight.”

She stiffened and lifted her head away from his shoulder.

He tightened his hold of her hand. “Don’t go. I think we should at least talk about it.”

He’d assumed she was as attracted to him as he was to her. That day in the rain, when he’d kissed her, hadn’t her eyes beseeched him to love her?

He turned so that he was facing her, giving her little chance to hide her feelings. “Do you think we should get married?”

She stared at his chest. “But you said you didn’t want to be a farmer.”

“Maybe I was wrong.”

“I thought you wanted to leave.”

“What if I changed my mind?” He didn’t have to go to Chicago. He could always write to Fritz and tell him he wasn’t coming after all.

She was silent for a moment. The clapping and stomping to the accordion seemed to fade, and all he could think about was her and how he’d be able to hold her in his arms that very night.

A thrill of excitement wrapped around his gut.

Finally she lifted her eyes to meet his gaze. They were wide and trusting and yet filled with so many questions. “I don’t want to be your last choice.”

He paused, not sure how to answer her.

“I don’t want you to stay because you feel obligated to help me or because the men are pressuring you. I want you to marry me because you want to. Truly want to.”

Did he? He looked deep into her eyes and saw that she wanted
to have her fairy tale and didn’t want to settle for anything less with him.

She’d come a long way since the spring when he’d first arrived, when she’d been timid, broken, and resigned to a loveless life, when she’d all but given up on happy marriages.

But now the strength in her statements reached out to reassure him. Maybe he had less cause to worry about her and her future than he’d anticipated.

“You’re growing into a strong woman.” He reached his knuckles to her cheek and caressed the edge of her face down to her chin.

At his praise, her eyes lit.

“Let’s stop analyzing everything.” He took a deep breath and pushed down all of the nagging doubts that began to battle inside him again.

He needed to do it. Now. Before the doubts could climb out and stop him.

She didn’t respond.

He put on what he hoped was his most dashing smile and brought her hand to his lips. He pressed a kiss against the soft warmth of her fingers. “Annalisa, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

She hesitated.