“I’m coming down,” he managed through fits of coughing.
“Thank Gott.” Annalisa’s reply came on the edge of a sob.
He hefted the planks they’d used to cover the well, to keep the sun and hot air from evaporating any more of their water. He spread the boards across its width and then slipped through the last narrow opening.
With stinging eyes he paused for an instant to watch the roof of the cabin burst into flames. Then, holding on to the well’s rope with one hand, he slid the last board into place and prayed the covering would be enough to keep the worst of the destruction from reaching them.
With several bounds against the stone wall he climbed down until he bumped into Annalisa. He lowered himself into the water next to her.
“Take off your apron and Gretchen’s too.” He reached for the bucket and dipped it into the water. “Make sure they’re drenched and then drape them over your heads.”
Through the darkness he couldn’t see them, but he could hear the splashes in her effort to get the aprons untied. He wanted to stop and help her, at least hold Gretchen. He had no doubt that Annalisa’s arms were getting tired.
But first he had to saturate the boards across the opening as much as possible. Using the pail, he tossed water at the planks. Again and again until they were soaked. Carl could only pray that he’d gotten the boards sufficiently wet to prevent the fire from consuming them.
Just moments later the flames flickered through the cracks of the covering, with an intense heat pressing down into the well.
“The fire’s here.” Carl wrestled off his shirt and dipped it
into the water. He draped the sopping shirt over Annalisa’s and Gretchen’s heads. “I’ll hold Gretchen. See if you can nurse Sophie. The less crying, the more oxygen we conserve.”
He slipped his arms around Gretchen, and without a word she came to him, clutching him with her arms and legs. He stayed as close to Annalisa as possible to keep Gretchen under the wet tents their aprons and his shirt provided.
Her little head rested against his undervest, and for the first time since he’d galloped at full speed out of Forestville, his heartbeat finally slowed to a steady rhythm. He lowered his head and, through the layers of wet garments, kissed Gretchen’s head.
Finally Sophie’s cries came to a halt, replaced by her hungry gulps.
Carl wished he could bend and press a kiss against the baby’s soft head too.
He loved them. He loved them just as if they were his own flesh and blood. The revelation sent a swell of emotion through his chest so strong it threatened to engulf him.
And he loved Annalisa.
Desperately.
He closed his eyes and nearly groaned with the knowledge of it.
Why had it taken him so long to admit it? Why now, when death circled down into the well and threatened to choke them?
In the darkness he reached for her. His fingers connected with her back. Through the wet fabric of her shirt, the heat of her skin grazed him.
Oh, Lord,
he prayed.
I was running away again, wasn’t I?
Had he been unwilling to acknowledge his love because he was afraid of marriage? Afraid of having a marriage like his parents’?
But hadn’t he told Annalisa he wasn’t his father and wouldn’t make the same mistakes? That he’d make his own mistakes?
He took a deep breath of the increasingly hot air. He wouldn’t be perfect. In fact, he’d already hurt Annalisa with his deception. But just because they would invariably hurt each other and have problems didn’t mean he had to run away from her.
He let his fingers make a trail up her back and then down. She shivered but sidled closer to him and leaned her head against his shoulder.
If they made it out of the well alive, he’d stay and fight for her no matter the cost. He wouldn’t run away again, not even if Peter put a gun to his head. He’d do whatever he had to in order to win her heart. He’d beg her to forgive him. And then he’d beg her to marry him.
Overhead, the fire roared with fury. The boards over the well crackled. Sparks flittered down.
If they survived . . .
Chapter
22
Annalisa could hardly breathe. The air had grown so hot and stifling she wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand. The water had lost its coolness, and her legs wobbled with the effort of holding up her numb body. Thankfully Sophie had nursed herself to a weary sleep.
Carl had redipped the aprons and shirt numerous times, attempting to keep her and the girls from overheating and to protect them from the dangerous fumes.
He’d tossed more pails of water at the opening of the well and had kept a vigilant guard for what seemed like hours, dousing the falling embers and sparks.
“I think the worst has passed.” Carl’s voice was hoarse. “I’m going up.”
“Nein, don’t go yet.” She tugged the wet garments off her head. “The fires will still be burning.”
“We need more oxygen.”
He didn’t give her the chance to argue with him. Instead he handed Gretchen back to her. The little girl could barely hold her head up.
As much as Annalisa dreaded the thought of Carl heading out into the inferno, she had to agree. Gretchen needed clean air.
Carl started to climb toward the blackened boards.
Annalisa was surprised that she could see him, that the light slanting through the cracks in the opening was strong enough to illuminate the sweat-slickened muscles in his bare arms as he pulled himself hand over hand up the rope. His dark hair was wet and stuck to his forehead, and his lips were set in grim determination.
“Cover yourself and the girls,” he said.
Holding the children tightly, she used her body to protect them just as Carl swung his feet up and kicked one of the boards free. A crumbling piece fell inward.
“Watch out!” he called.
She drew back against the stone wall. The falling board glowed red and sizzled when it hit the water.
Carl kicked the other boards and more pieces fell. Within seconds he’d cleared a large enough opening for the light and air to penetrate the well. In fact, through the haze of smoke she could see the light of day had returned.
And she could almost believe their dark nightmare had passed.
He managed to crawl out of the well and out of her line of sight.
Ashes floated down the well, swirling in the smoky air. She gulped a deep breath into her burning lungs. Gretchen roused and drew in several quick breaths as well.
Annalisa uttered another prayer for Carl’s safety and for the rest of her family. She could only pray that Uri had made it to the river and that Vater had found a way to keep the rest of them safe.
She had no doubt that her entire farm had been completely destroyed by the ravaging flames. The thought of seeing the
devastation made her nauseous—the months and years of hard work all gone in a matter of one afternoon.
But at the same time a prayer of gratitude swelled in her chest. Carl had returned. He’d kept them safe. And so far they’d all lived through the horror. What more could she ask for?
Besides, she’d already lost the farm to Ward. What did it matter if it all burned to the ground? She’d have to be out in two days anyway.
“Mama . . .” Gretchen lifted her head weakly. Tears streaked her soot-blackened cheeks. “I didn’t want Snowdrop to die.”
Annalisa stroked the girl’s matted hair. “Ach, liebchen.”
“Do you think he went to heaven?” Gretchen’s lips trembled.
Annalisa nodded. “Ja. And now he’ll keep Oma company. She’ll like having him there.”
Gretchen wiped a hand across her eyes and smeared the soot even more.
Over the past weeks, Annalisa had tried not to think of her mutter too much or she’d awaken the sadness and the disappointment that they hadn’t had more time together, that she hadn’t tried harder to bridge the gap between them.
Annalisa couldn’t keep from thinking that if she’d made more of an effort, she could have had a closer relationship with her mutter
,
the kind she hoped to have with her daughters, something that moved beyond the parent-child relationship to a friendship.
But even as the whispers of regret breathed through her, Annalisa let them pass. Her mutter had done the best she could to give her a better life. She’d left behind everything and had sacrificed to come to America—so that she could give her children more than she’d ever had.
And now Annalisa was carrying on that same hope. The hope that she could now give her daughters a better life too.
Carl’s face appeared over the edge of the well. “There are several small fires still burning, but I think it’s safe to come out now.”
She pushed away from the wall, relief and gratitude giving her new strength.
He lifted Gretchen out first.
And then slowly he helped her up. His undervest was gray with grime and strained against his chest. “You won’t believe what survived the inferno.” His eyes sparked, and the weary lines in his face curved into a smile.
“What?” Her hands were wrinkled and raw from being in the water for so long, and the rope burned into her flesh.
“You’ll have to wait and see.” His grin teased her, just the way she adored.
When she was within his reach, he grabbed her and hoisted her the rest of the way up and set her next to Gretchen on the scorched grass.
Directly in front of her, the blackened forest was leveled to the ground with only charred trunks standing in a barren, smoking wasteland.
At the sight of the devastation, a cry of despair caught in her throat and her knees sagged.
Carl’s arm slid around her and prevented her from dropping to the smoldering earth.
She leaned into him and peered at her fields. A few black cornstalks still stood, fluttering, the only remnants of the crop she’d hoped would pay off her loan. She pressed fingers to her mouth to keep from crying out.
She’d known she would lose everything, but seeing the blackened land made it real.
This was it.
She’d fought as hard as she could. But she’d lost the battle against the elements and against Ward.
She then looked toward the cabin and her vegetable garden. There was nothing left but a pile of smoking ashes and the few stones from the hearth. A soft cry slipped from her lips.
“I know it’s discouraging,” Carl said. “But look.” He slowly pivoted her.
“How?” Disbelief thickened her tongue so that all she could do was stare.
There stood the new barn, virtually untouched. Several patches of the roof had been ripped off, but otherwise it was almost as if the fire had hopped right over it.
The black billowing clouds had moved to the east, likely taking the raging inferno to Forestville, where hopefully it would meet its death at the edge of Lake Huron. But even though the darkness had passed, the air was still thick with smoke.
“I can’t make sense of it,” Carl said, “except to hypothesize that since the boards were new and somewhat green, that the fire was moving too quickly for the wood to combust the same way the dry wood did.”
She didn’t understand Carl’s explanation. And suddenly it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they had survived, that they were together. She’d lose the barn by the end of the week anyway.
As long as she didn’t lose Carl again.
“Carl . . .” she said, turning to him.
He lifted a finger to her lips to silence her. His rich brown eyes were full of all the questions that remained unanswered between them. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness for lying to you. I was a fool to deceive you. And I regret that I wasn’t honest with you from the start, no matter the consequences.”
“I was wrong too—”
“Please, Annalisa, I beg you to find it within yourself to forgive me. I promise, I’ll do whatever it takes to win back your
trust.” He moved his hand to her cheek and stroked his thumb along her jaw. “I’ll spend the rest of my life, if I must, trying to regain your affection.”
Her heartbeat sputtered forward as if it didn’t quite know what to do.
“I shouldn’t have left you yesterday. I was a coward.” His eyes caressed her face, making her stomach flutter. “God is showing me I need to stop running and stay and fight the battles that need fighting.”
She wanted to lift her hand to his cheek and run her fingers along his jaw and explore the contours of his face the same way he was doing with hers. Instead she lowered her head, her shyness mingling with uncertainty. Did she dare hope he’d decided to stay in Forestville?
He tipped her chin back up so she had no choice but to see the emotion and intensity in his expression. “I want you,” he whispered. “I want you forever.”
Forever? What was he saying?
“I love you, Annalisa.”
And the truth of his words shone from his eyes. Delight wrapped around her heart.
“I know I don’t deserve your love, and I don’t expect it—”
It was her turn to silence him. She touched her fingers to his mouth. “I forgive you.”
His hand spanned her lower back and pressed her nearer—as near as she could get without crushing Sophie. At the same time he reached for her hand, turned it over, and gently kissed her wrist. His breath fanned her skin and sent a trail of warmth up her arm to her cheeks.
His gaze dropped to her lips, and he studied her mouth for a long, agonizingly sweet moment. And then he brought his lips down on hers with swiftness and sureness.
The warmth of his mouth captured hers and commanded a response. She rose up on her tiptoes to meet him more fully, to give him what he sought, to convey to him the depth of her love.
She didn’t care that Gretchen was standing next to them, watching and listening to every word they’d spoken. In fact, she was glad her daughter could see the blazing affection between a man and a woman. Perhaps Gretchen would grow up expecting love and joy from marriage rather than mere survival.
Annalisa lifted her hands to Carl’s soot-streaked cheeks and let her fingers graze his skin just as she’d wanted to do. She pressed her lips into his, meeting the strength of his kiss with all the passion that had lain dormant inside her for too long.