MB02 - A Noble Groom (38 page)

Annalisa cringed and waited for the loud bang that would bring an end to Snowdrop’s life. She couldn’t protest, even though her heart already grieved for Gretchen. If Ward must take a life before he rode off, she’d much rather have him kill the dog than Sophie.

A crack echoed through the barn, followed by a yelp of anguish that sounded more human than animal.

Snowdrop continued to bark, though with less urgency.

Annalisa glanced up.

Ward fell facedown onto the barn floor. His body sprawled at an awkward angle, and he didn’t move.

Uri stood over him, clutching a hoe in his hand, his young face a mask of tight fury.

For a long moment, in the growing darkness, Annalisa couldn’t make sense of what had happened.

“Annalisa!” Carl called from the farmyard. A sob caught in her throat, and she couldn’t get her voice to work to call back to him, to let him know where she was.

She struggled to her knees.

An instant later, he burst into the barn. He held a lantern high, the light cutting through the darkness.

He was breathing hard. Sweat trickled down his soot-streaked face. The dark waves of his hair were wild without the hat he’d obviously lost in his haste.

She tried to push herself out of the hay, but her relief was so enormous that her legs couldn’t hold her weight.

He’d come back.

He glanced around the barn frantically before finding her. “Annalisa!”

With shaking fingers he hung the lantern on the nearest peg, and in three long strides he was at her side. He dropped to his knee and reached for her. “Oh, thank you, God,” he whispered, drawing her toward him.

She wrapped her arms around his chest and buried her face into his shirt. She breathed deeply of him—of the smokiness that mingled with an earthiness he’d gained in working the land. The hardness of his chest and the strength of his arms crushed her. She knew with certainty she was exactly where she wanted to be.

Even Sophie between them stopped her crying and gave a little gurgle as if suddenly content.

“Are you all right?” He pulled back, putting her at arm’s length.

“I’m fine.” Now that he was there, now that he’d come back to her, she felt like she could finally breathe again. Really breathe.

“Did Ward hurt you?” He slid his hands down her arms and then lifted them to her cheeks.

At the cool touch of his fingers on her flesh, she leaned into his hand. He’d been gone for less than twenty-four hours, yet it
felt like twenty-four years. And now she wanted to do nothing but bask in the nearness of his presence.

But Old Red’s nervous whinny and Mathilda’s bleating reminded her of the seriousness of their situation.

Carl rose and pulled her to her feet. “We need to get out of here. The fire is out of control and moving this way.”

Gretchen had followed Carl into the barn. And before Annalisa realized what the little girl was doing, she had tiptoed over to Ward. “Mama, he’s hurt.”

The flame from the lantern flickered amidst the smokiness. But even through the haze Annalisa could see the bright red that seeped from a gash on the side of Ward’s head. His flesh was split apart, similar to the injury that had killed Hans.

Blood glistened on the sharp edge of Uri’s hoe, and the boy’s face was set with a hardness that sent a shiver through Annalisa. Had the boy killed Ward?

Carl turned Gretchen away from the grisly wound and steered her toward Annalisa. He turned back to inspect Ward. “Is he dead?”

“I hope so. He deserved to die.” Uri stepped out from the shadows. “The same way Hans did.”

Annalisa glanced from Ward’s wound to the hoe and then back again. She swallowed a lump of horror that rose swiftly and threatened to choke her. She didn’t want to meet Uri’s gaze, but her eyes were drawn to his.

“Did you kill Hans?” Carl spoke the words she couldn’t.

“Yes. I killed him.” Uri jutted his chin. But at the kindness in Carl’s eyes, the hardness in the boy’s stance faltered. “But I only meant to teach him not to be so cruel. I didn’t mean to kill him.”

The confession struck Annalisa with a power that left her breathless. She closed her eyes, wanting to pretend that none
of it had happened, that her baby brother was still a sweet, innocent boy.

But she’d known how much he’d hated Hans, especially near the end.

Uri lifted his chin. “But now I’m glad he’s dead.”

Sorrow welled within her, making her want to weep. “Oh, Uri . . .” she said.

He looked her in the eyes, letting her get a glimpse of the guilt that had haunted him these many months. Then anger quickly replaced any remorse there. “Hans wasn’t worthy of you, Annalisa. Not like Carl.”

“But you shouldn’t have attacked him,” she said softly.

“I suppose you think I shouldn’t have hit Ward either?”

She started to shake her head.

Uri tossed down his hoe and strode to the back door that was slightly ajar.

“Wait!” She started after him.

But he didn’t stop. He slipped outside, his shoulders stiff and his back rigid.

She chased after him, pushing at the door. “Uri!” she called.

She pulled back at the sight that met her. The billowing black clouds had descended with a fury. In the distance above the trees, the darkness was broken by a red glow.

The fire.

How long did they have before the inferno descended upon them?

“Uri!” she screamed after the outline of his body disappearing into the woods. “Uri! Come back! It’s too dangerous!”

He plunged forward into the foliage without a backward glance.

She wanted to race after him and reassure him that she still loved him, that she always would. But she knew she couldn’t, not without risking Sophie’s life.

She had to remember he was a smart boy, and he knew the woods better than anyone else. He would find a way to survive the fire. Right now she needed to worry about saving her daughters.

She went back into the barn.

“Ward’s still alive!” Carl called from his position next to the man.

“Danke, Gott,” she whispered, starting toward them.

Already Ward was rubbing his eyes.

Maybe they wouldn’t need to tell anyone about Uri’s attempt to murder Ward. And they would pray Ward wouldn’t bring charges against the boy. Uri had attacked from behind, and she doubted Ward had seen him. And even if he had, how could he level accusations against Uri without casting guilt on himself in the process?

Even as she tried to justify what he’d done, deep inside she knew life would never be the same again. Uri was a murderer. He’d killed Hans. How could either one of them ever forget that?

Carl glanced out the barn door and then rose to his feet, his face a mask of urgency. “Let’s go.” He scooped Gretchen into his arms, grabbed the lantern, and started toward the door.

Annalisa scurried after him.

The day had turned as black as night. In the distance a wall of flames shot high into the air.

“Hurry!” Carl shouted.

She wasn’t sure where Carl was taking them until she stood before the well. He held the lantern up, illuminating its murky depths. “I’ll lower you first.”

She hesitated. Hans had dug the well when he’d first settled the land, and it wasn’t deep—probably no more than three lengths of a tall man. Even so, she wasn’t sure she wanted to climb down there.

“Now, Annalisa. Please.” His voice was laced with desperation, and his gaze darted to the oncoming fire.

The flames seemed to be roaring toward them with the strength of a tornado, swirling and twisting and tossing sparks. Burning embers carried by the wind began to fall on the western edge of the cleared land.

They had no choice. There wasn’t time to go anywhere else.

With the help of Carl’s steady strength she half climbed, half fell into the cold water at the bottom. Thankfully with the drought, the water only reached her waist. The splashing, however, had soaked Sophie and she began wailing.

In a matter of seconds, Carl had lowered Gretchen into her arms. She situated the girl on her hip.

Above, Carl held up the lantern. “I’m going back for Ward,” he called above Sophie’s crying, which echoed off the walls of their refuge.

“Nein!” She shook her head. “There’s no time.”

Ward didn’t deserve any of their kindness. And she certainly didn’t want Carl risking his life for the scoundrel.

“I cannot leave him there,” Carl yelled.

“Nein!”

But he’d already moved away, taking the lantern and leaving her and the girls in complete darkness.

The coolness of the water and the dampness of the fieldstones that lined the well soothed her hot skin. Still, anxiety left her breathless and shaking. “Carl!” she screamed. “Come back.”

Sophie’s cries turned shrill, almost as if she sensed the panic burning through Annalisa.

“Carl!” Annalisa craned her neck but couldn’t see anything, not even Gretchen’s face. Only the weight of her daughter and the warm breath against her cheek assured Annalisa that Gretchen was there.

A flaming ember floated across the opening of the well,
illuminating them for a brief instant before plunging them back into darkness. The fire was almost on top of them now.

The hope that had ignited when Carl walked into the barn sputtered and fizzled into nothing.

He was going to die.

A cry rose to her tight throat. She wanted to scream just like Sophie.

Gretchen’s cold, wet hand slid against Annalisa’s cheek. “Maybe we should pray, Mama.”

Annalisa sucked in a breath, catching a waft of the smoke pressing down into the well. “Ja, liebchen. We must pray.”

But any semblance of a prayer stuck in her throat.

“Help Carl. Help Uncle Uri. Help Opa. Help Tante Eleanor . . .” Gretchen’s prayer was so simple, so trusting.

Maybe she needed to learn to have Gretchen’s faith. After all, Gott had helped her in the barn when she’d prayed. Even though she’d had to sign the deed over to Ward, Gott had given her peace about doing so. Somehow she’d known He was there with her. That no matter what happened, she’d done the right thing.

He’d be with her again, wouldn’t He?

“Gott,” she whispered, pressing a kiss against Gretchen’s damp skin. “Won’t you be with us one more time?”

“He’s already with us, Mama.”

She hadn’t meant for Gretchen to hear her prayer.

“He’s here right now.” The girl’s voice was so matter-of-fact, Annalisa knew she had to trust that once again Gott was with them, that He wasn’t too busy to help and comfort a poor widow and her children. That perhaps He never had been too busy. Perhaps Gott had been there all along, loving her, regardless of how good she was.

Another burning ember flashed in the opening of the well, only this time it drifted down the passageway toward them.

She splashed it with water and doused it.

But as another fleck of burning wood rained down on them, Annalisa knew the fire was closing in. It was hungrily devouring everything in its path.

All she could think was that Carl was out there, in the danger and flames.

And she didn’t want him to die.

Chapter
21

Carl tightened his arm around Ward’s waist. The man groaned, nearly dragging him down with his weight.

“So you were the one who hit me.” Ward’s voice was slurred, the gash near his forehead oozing and raw. Bits of hay stuck to the blood that streaked his cheek and ear.

Carl didn’t say anything. Even if he’d had the breath to answer, his silence was the better option. He wanted to avoid implicating Uri. Better for Ward to think it was him.

“Don’t believe that I’ll let you get away with this.” With each step Ward’s breath was more labored.

Carl had left the lantern in the barn. But above the woods beyond the cabin, the flames leapt into the sky and lit the darkness like a giant torch.

The well loomed before them. Flying sparks had landed in the dry grass near the cabin, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before the wind fanned them into flames as big and roaring as the ones headed their way.

“The well?” Ward struggled to stop. “You can’t possibly expect me to take refuge in the well.”

Carl strained to propel the man forward. “It’s all we have. Now go. Before we’re both roasted alive right here.”

“I refuse to get in a well.” Ward straightened and jerked away from him with surprising strength. “I’ve heard stories about the fire of ’71. How families got in their wells and either suffocated or were boiled like chickens until their flesh fell off their bones.”

Carl had already counted the dangers—the lack of oxygen, the possible carbon dioxide poisoning, the rise in temperature that could kill them. He’d gone over all the worst-case scenarios but had decided the well was still their best chance for survival.

“We don’t have time to argue.” Carl reached for Ward’s arm. He’d drag the man there if he had to.

Ward stumbled backward toward the barn. “I’m riding to town to the lake.”

“You don’t have time.” Carl glanced at the oncoming fire, the columns of swirling black smoke giving testimony to its massive appetite. Ashes and sparks rained down on them, and a gust of wind breathed a blistering heat.

But Ward had already spun around and was stumbling toward the barn. “My horse is fast and will be able to outrun the fire,” he shouted over his shoulder. “If not, I’ll bury myself in a field.”

“You shouldn’t chance it. The fire’s too close.”

Ward disappeared into the barn.

Carl shook his head and then dashed the rest of the distance to the well. He couldn’t waste any more time. Annalisa and the girls would have a better chance of survival if he was there to help them. The truth was, Ward probably had as much chance of outriding the firestorm as they did hiding in the well.

Sophie’s cries greeted him.

Everything within him tightened with fear and a love so passionate he wanted to cry out with frustration. That was his family down there. And God help him, he had to save them.

An explosion at the edge of the woods sent fireballs shooting through the air. The wind rushed at him, bringing with it a thick smoke that blinded him and left him choking.