“
Mohnblumen
. You’ve never seen wild poppies before?” His voice conveyed surprise.
He let the horse amble slowly. She breathed in the warm air, thanking God for the sun, for the warmth, for this moment of exquisite freedom. Then she stared down at the flowers below them, so close and yet too far to reach.
“Would you like to stop and pick some?” he asked gently.
He helped her dismount, and she knelt reverently toward a flower and placed her fingers on the surprisingly tiny stem. She picked it, then held it up to her face. The petals were almost transparent. How wonderful that such a delicate thing could provide such vivid color. Sophie studied it, breathing deeply, and reveling in the manifestation of her dream. She closed her eyes and let her mind empty itself of all thought except for this beautiful meadow, her dream come true.
When she opened her eyes, Gabe was standing a few feet
away, his fist full of the red flowers. Her gaze met his and she read understanding in his face. But how could he understand how she felt? He’d experienced freedom his entire life. He’d known what it was like to ride out on his horse and discover meadows and wildflowers and feel the sun on his face. But he knew the things she had gone through, even knew of her hopes and dreams. His expression was sympathetic, and it made her heart ache with some new emotion, pleasant and painful at the same time. It became hard to breathe, and she both wished he would close the gap between them, and feared it at the same time.
A feeling of guilt hit her. She turned away from Gabe’s eyes and started for the horse, who had dropped his head to graze.
“We’d better go. I don’t want to delay us with my foolishness.” She reached up and grabbed the pommel of the saddle, and suddenly Gabe was standing beside her.
He held the flowers out to her.
The air felt thick between them. She was afraid to look him in the eye but couldn’t resist. His look was serious and compelling, as if he wanted to tell her something. Her heart was beating so hard it seemed to vibrate her chest.
Why was she being so foolish? It was very unlikely that Gabe was feeling anything like what she was feeling. And she wouldn’t want him to. She was betrothed to Valten.
She took the flowers from his hand and he lifted her by her waist to set her in the saddle.
Gabe took the reins and hoisted himself up, then set Gingerbread in motion. “There are a lot more meadows like this.”
Sophie stared down at the flowers Gabe had picked for her. Gradually, her heart slowed. She kept herself from looking up at Gabe. The motion of the horse, the warmth of the sun, the sight of the beautiful flowers in her hand, and the brush of his arms around her, holding on to the reins, comforted her into a sense of peace and contentment.
Her brother. Gabe was her brother. He was taking her to Hagenheim and safety. That’s all.
They continued through the meadow and Gabe picked up the pace, now that they were on more level ground. They could hear the river to their west but couldn’t see it, as it was surrounded by trees. Sophie looked all around her at the beautiful trees — such variety compared to Hohendorf — the green grass, and more wildflowers of purple, pink, and yellow.
“Let me know if you need to stop,” Gabe said.
“I am well,” she murmured.
“I’m thinking of hunting a hare for our dinner.”
Sophie was glad. They had precious little left of the bundle Petra had supplied.
Sophie fingered the bouquet and regretted the feelings she’d had for Gabe when he’d picked it for her. Those feelings were only foolishness brought on by her gratitude to Gabe for saving her from the duchess, and because they were alone together. “We haven’t seen any houses or people. Aren’t there any villages or towns around here?”
“Not many. We’ll see more when we get closer to Hagenheim.”
She asked more questions about his siblings. His family was always a safe subject, and he always seemed to have more to tell her. Soon they were laughing companionably. She even grew comfortable enough to ask about Brittola. “What does Brittola look like?”
“She has blonde hair and green eyes.”
“Is she tall?”
“About your height, I suppose. Although she may have grown since I saw her.”
“Does she write letters to you?”
“Rarely. She wrote a few times after our visit a year ago, but I haven’t heard from her in months.”
If you were my betrothed, I’d write to you every day
. Sophie was
glad she hadn’t said that aloud. What an awkward silence
that
would have resulted in.
“Perhaps she doesn’t like to write.”
“She told me as much.”
“Do you write to her?”
“Whenever she writes to me, I always answer. I’m afraid I haven’t been any better a correspondent than she has.”
“I suppose Brittola had tutors and learned to read and write, everything a well-bred lady should.”
“I suppose. Although she did tell me that she wasn’t a very good student and often pretended to be sick or ignored her tutor. Which surprised me, because she seemed so docile and meek when she visited Hagenheim.”
“It is easy to pretend sometimes,” Sophie murmured, thinking of her own pretending. But other times, it was quite hard. “I am sure she must have learned to dance as well.” Sophie had always wanted to learn how to dance. Not that she’d ever had the occasion to do it, but she’d dreamed of having many opportunities once she was able to get away from the duchess.
“Yes, she knows all the dances.”
They were silent for a few moments. Finally, Sophie said, “It will be embarrassing for your brother if his betrothed does not know how to dance.”
“We’ll teach you. My family knows how to play the songs and can teach you all of the necessary steps in only a day or two.”
Sophie felt herself blush with pleasure. She imagined learning to dance with her betrothed’s family looking on, swirling around the floor holding Gabe’s —
No, of course not Gabe’s hand. She would learn holding Valten’s hand.
Learning to dance would be enjoyable. And by the time she became a duke’s wife, she would know how to dance very well and he would not have to be ashamed of her. She hoped.
Gabe looked up at the sun, high overhead
.
Almost time to stop and let Gingerbread rest so they all could get a drink. They hadn’t seen any sign of the duchess’s guards or the murderous archer from the day before. But they could catch up to Gabe and Sophie at any time. Best to keep their times of rest as short as possible.
He turned his horse toward the river and went down the slight hill into the trees.
Gabe pulled on the reins and stopped Gingerbread. By the river’s edge, a large brown rabbit stood nibbling the grass.
He quietly helped Sophie down, then he slowly dismounted. He pulled his crossbow from his back, loaded it, and as the arrow clicked into place, the rabbit lifted its head, suddenly alert. Gabe aimed carefully. He pulled the trigger to release the arrow. It found its mark, right into the hare’s skull, knocking it over.
“That was a perfect shot.”
Her words warmed him. Valten probably wouldn’t have been able to hit the animal, especially from that distance. Gabe always had been a better shot.
He chided himself for his pride and for having such unkind thoughts about his brother. But he was still proud he could provide meat for them both.
He hurriedly skinned the hare while Sophie built a fire.
“We can’t take any with us, so we need to eat it all now.”
They roasted the meat and Sophie ate almost as much as he did. He wanted to compliment her good appetite, but from his experiences with his sisters, he was relatively sure that would be a bad idea.
He and Sophie covered their fire with dirt, then poured water over it from the river. They climbed back on Gingerbread and headed away from their midday camp.
If they continued to travel hard and fast, they should be close to the Cottage of the Seven by tomorrow afternoon. It would be a good place to spend the night after sleeping outside for two nights. And he hoped to find someone at the Cottage who would travel with them, which would also help preserve Sophie’s reputation.
As night fell, Sophie relaxed against his chest, apparently asleep. He should start looking for a place for them to settle for the night, but he wanted to travel as far as he could, as long as he could still see several feet in front of him.
Perhaps he shouldn’t have come alone to rescue Sophie. But he
was
taking care of her. God willing, he would get her safely to Hagenheim. For once, everyone would be patting
him
on the back instead of Valten.
But somehow, that didn’t matter so much to him anymore. He no longer relished the thought of Valten’s envy and anger at Gabe rescuing his betrothed. And the praise he would get wasn’t as important to him as he had thought it would be. In fact, he would do it all again even if no one else knew, because he was doing it for Sophie. He wanted to take care of her and keep her safe just because … she was kind and unselfish and smart and beautiful.
And she thought of him as a brother.
Where were these thoughts about Sophie taking him? Even thinking the wrong thoughts about one’s brother’s wife was a sin.
Valten wasn’t married to Sophie, and he had not been the one to pledge himself to her, but Gabe needed to look at her as if she was Valten’s beloved.
Gabe realized he was tired, and exhaustion was weakening his defenses. He had to find a place for them to shelter for the night. Anyway, it was almost dark.
Last night, he had found a perfect place for them to sleep, and prayed they’d find another place just as perfectly situated. He moved through the trees, searching for a sheltered spot.
Gingerbread stumbled on a rock, and Gabe instinctively wrapped his arm around Sophie’s middle to keep her from falling. She woke up and glanced around.
“You’re just in time to help find a place to stop for the night. It looks like we could all use the rest,” Gabe said.
She mumbled her agreement and rubbed her cheek, pulling away from him a bit.
This area wasn’t nearly as rocky as the surrounding terrain, so it looked as if the best shelter they would get was in the midst of trees and bushes.
But then Gabe came upon a small stream that fed into the river. The stream trickled down a hill. On a hunch, he followed it a short way and, on the other side of the hill, found a sheer rock floor that was sheltered on two sides by trees.
They both dismounted. When his feet touched the ground, Gabe’s knees buckled and he almost went down. Sleeping lightly and traveling hard was taking a toll.
Sophie walked to the stream while he finished seeing to Gingerbread. The moon glowed just enough so that he could keep a subtle eye on her, and see the area around them. Sophie came back and together they spread out the blanket in the sheltered spot.
“You sleep here,” Gabe said. His voice sounded stilted, even to his ears. “I’ll sleep over there, by one of the trees.”
Sophie scrunched her eyes at him, as if confused.
It didn’t matter if she was confused. Even if he hurt her feelings, he felt the need to keep his distance.
Gabe heard the crack of a breaking tree limb and looked up. Across the river, fifty feet away, a man was aiming an arrow straight at Sophie.
Gabe didn’t have time to grab his crossbow. Instead, he leaped in front of Sophie, putting his body between her and the man.
The next instant, he felt a sharp, searing pain. A glance to his left revealed an arrow shaft sticking out of his shoulder.
He dropped to his knees as Sophie screamed
.
“Get down! Behind me,” Gabe yelled. He grabbed the crossbow still at his feet, but because of the arrow in his shoulder, had a hard time lifting it up high enough to aim it. The man across the river was setting another arrow to his longbow.
“No!” Sophie screamed again.
Gabe heard the faint
whoosh
of an arrow, but the man across the river was still aiming in their direction. He seemed frozen. Then, slowly, he fell face forward into the river, an arrow sticking out of his back.
A big, barrel-shaped man emerged from the forest behind the fallen archer.
Sophie turned to Gabe and threw her arms around him just as he sank to his side on the ground.
Sophie fell to the ground beside Gabe. She recognized the big man who had shot and killed the archer trying to ambush them.
Walther. Thank you, God
.
Convinced they were now safe, she turned all her focus on Gabe. The hideous sight of the arrow sticking out of his shoulder, its head sticking out his back, made her shake her head in disbelief. Why did he do it? He’d deliberately stepped in front
of her so the arrow would strike him and not her. Why? He was only rescuing her to irritate his brother. She felt so sick, she wondered if she was about to throw up.
She had to help Gabe. He was shot … with an arrow … an arrow that was meant for her.
His face was contorted in pain, his eyes closed.
“Oh, why did you have to get yourself shot?” She examined where the arrow had gone in. “Don’t worry,” she tried to reassure Gabe, who was gasping in pain. “You’ll be all right. I’ll take care of you.”
Please, God, help me know what to do. Don’t let him die
.
The arrow should have pierced her heart. It was meant for her, not Gabe. She stared at the shaft, dripping with blood where it met his body. She would have to break it off and then pull it out. It should be done quickly, before she had time to get squeamish about it. She braced herself and, with both hands, grasped the end of the arrow sticking out the front of his shoulder. Without allowing herself time to think, she broke it.
Gabe let out a howl of pain.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Sophie touched his face, laying her palm against his cheek.
“It’s all right,” he said through clenched teeth. “Just pull it out.”
She looked at the metal head of the arrow sticking out the back of his shoulder. It was covered in blood. Sophie had seen blood before, had never been bothered by it in the past, but this was
Gabe’s
blood. A wave of weakness came over her. The thought of pulling that arrow the rest of the way through his flesh … she wasn’t sure she could do it.
I have to do it. For Gabe
.
Suddenly, a huge man was towering over them.
“Walther. I thank God you’re here.”
“As soon as I heard what had happened back at the castle, I knew I had to find you. I couldn’t let anyone hurt our little
Sophie.” Walther knelt behind Gabe. “Go get a blanket or something to press against the wound.”
Sophie ran and got the blanket she’d slept under last night. She ran back on shaky legs and sank to her knees beside Walther. The big man grabbed the arrow and yanked it out.
Gabe’s body went limp, his head sinking to the ground.
She held part of the blanket to the back of his shoulder with one hand and pressed the other half of the blanket over the entry wound at the front of his shoulder.
“You’ll have to push harder than that. I’ll do it.” Walther nudged her aside.
Sophie moved aside. She lifted Gabe’s head and right shoulder and placed them in her lap. Tenderly, she brushed the hair from his forehead.
“Gabe? Are you all right?” He must have fainted from the pain. She hovered over him, watching for any flicker of movement. Finally, he groaned. Then his eyes opened.
Walther was still pressing hard on both sides of his shoulder.
Gabe grunted. “I’m sorry I failed you, Sophie.”
“You didn’t fail me. You saved me.” She touched his forehead again, brushing his hair back and letting her hand linger. “You are so brave.” She still couldn’t believe the sacrifice he’d made. Her eyes filled with tears and one spilled onto Gabe’s shirt. She wanted to tell him he was the bravest man she knew, that he was her rescuer and she would never forget what he’d done for her. But she knew she wouldn’t be able to get it all out. She would choke on her own tears before she’d said two words of it.
“I should have seen him coming,” Gabe said softly. “I should have heard him. I should never have let him get so close.”
Sophie shook her head as more tears dripped from her eyes. Finally, she controlled herself enough to rasp out, “Don’t talk like that.”
His eyes were closed again. She took several deep breaths to
calm herself and make the tears go away. If she didn’t, she feared his whole shirt would be wet, from her tears and his blood.
“Thank you for coming to our aid, Walther,” Sophie said.
Walther grunted, still pressing the blanket to Gabe’s wounds. “I couldn’t let that foul man kill our little Sophie. The duchess, she ordered all of us guards to find you both and kill you. I convinced some of them to leave with their families under cover of night instead — after I told them what she was planning to do to our Sophie, they were happy to leave the duchess’s service no matter what the risk. Lorencz had already gone, and I was able to thwart most of the other guards before they got too far from the castle. But there was one man determined to do her bidding, and that was Malger. After I sent my family to safety, I came after him.”
It had become so dark Sophie could barely see Walther’s face.
“I don’t think we would still be alive if you hadn’t found us when you did.”
“I don’t like to think about it myself.”
“Yes, thank you,” Gabe said. “I owe you my life.”
And I owe my life to both of you
.
The three of them stayed unmoving and silent for several more minutes while Walther continued to apply pressure to Gabe’s wound. Had the bleeding stopped?
In her mind, Sophie listed all the things Gabe would need. They had to find him water, food, bandages to cover the wound, and a warm blanket, now that his was soaked in blood. He would also need to relieve himself, since they’d been riding for some time.
Walther will have to help him with that
.
“I’ll stand guard tonight,” Walther said, shifting his weight to his other knee, still pressing Gabe’s shoulder and the blanket between his hands. “There may be wolves in the area. They’ll smell blood and come hunting.”
“You need sleep. I’ll stand guard.” Sophie had seen Gabe shoot his crossbow and was sure she could do it.
Walther grunted as he shifted his weight again. “No maiden is going to watch over me while I sleep.” His voice sounded angry so she didn’t argue. “Besides, old men like me hardly need any rest.”
Sophie stared down into Gabe’s face. She could see it was scrunched in pain, but he didn’t move or open his eyes. “Gabe?”
He emitted a small sound from his throat.
She wanted to say she was sorry — sorry for getting him shot, sorry for causing him pain. It was all her fault. Instead, she said, “Is there anything I can get for you? Can I get you some water?”
“When he stops crushing my shoulder,” Gabe rasped.
“I’m only trying to stop the bleeding,” Walther said peevishly. “Let’s have a look.” Walther sat back and lifted the blanket from the front of Gabe’s shoulder. He leaned close, and Sophie tried to see too. All she could see was the dark spot on Gabe’s shoulder where the arrow had gone in and the stain on his shirt around it. She watched and waited for the blood to start seeping out, but it didn’t come.
“Praise God and all his saints,” Walther said. “Help him sit up. Slowly, now. Don’t want to jostle his shoulder too much.”
Sophie helped push Gabe into a half-sitting position. “Should we wrap it?”
Gabe winced and nodded.
Sophie hurried to his bag, which contained the roll of bandages he had used to wrap her arm. When she got back, Walther was helping Gabe remove his shirt.
Sophie tried not to look at his naked chest — not that she hadn’t seen a man’s torso before. The men servants often stripped down to their waists when they were working outside during the summer months. She’d always thought it was disgusting. But somehow, it was different with Gabe — not disgusting at all.
Forcing herself to concentrate on her task, Sophie knelt beside him and started wrapping the bandage around his shoulder so that the cloth covered the entry wound in front and the exit wound in back. She wrapped it over his shoulder and under his arm several times. Then she tied it securely in place.
“Thank you,” he whispered. She looked into his eyes. His face was mere inches from hers.
“You’re welcome,” she whispered back. “I’ll go get you some water.” Sophie jumped up, but then realized he was sitting there without a shirt, and the night air was cool. She retrieved his shirt from the ground and pulled it over his head. She helped him put his right hand through the sleeve, then moved to his other side, noting the way his shoulder muscles bulged and rippled with his every movement. Pulling her mind, and her eyes, away from his bare shoulders, she tugged the shirt over his injured shoulder, letting the sleeve dangle. Gabe groaned. “Sorry.” She pulled the shirt the rest of the way down.
He must be in terrible pain. Instead of complaining, he whispered,
“Danke.”
“Bitte.”
His lips were so close … but she shouldn’t be looking at his lips. She jumped up again and ran back to his saddlebag, grabbing a cup she knew he stored there, then hurried to the river. Making sure to get the water upstream from where their attacker had fallen in, Sophie hurried back with the full cup.
Walther helped Gabe to his feet, careful not to jostle his left arm, which was pressed against his side under his shirt.
“Here’s your water.”
Gabe took it from her hand and drank. His throat bobbed three times, she noted in fascination, as he swallowed. His chest filled out his shirt in a very appealing way, and she recalled how he had looked without it.
Stop being ridiculous
, she scolded herself, taking the cup from him. The man had nearly been killed protecting her — she
still could hardly believe what he had done — and she shouldn’t be ogling him. She was behaving like Darla, who ogled every man under fifty who still had most of his teeth.
“We’ll be back, Sophie,” Walther said, as he and Gabe walked away, heading to the trees.
Sophie busied herself with building a fire. Unless Walther had brought supplies, they would all have to sleep on the ground. She picked up Gabe’s crossbow, checked to make sure it was loaded, and set it down where she planned to sleep. If danger lurked, she would be ready.
When the two men came back, the three of them sat around the fire and ate. Walther shared some bread, which he toasted over the fire, and some nuts, apples, and strips of dried venison. Sophie’s eyes stayed on Gabe nearly the whole meal. She watched how much he ate — which was very little — how he moved, and when he flinched or winced, and she felt wretched about the sacrifice he had made for her. Thinking about it stirred up something inside of her she was terrified to examine.
She got him more water when they finished eating, then he curled up next to the fire.
Walther patted Sophie’s head as if she were a small child. “Don’t you worry about him, Sophie. He’s young and strong. He’ll be fine. I’ll keep watch and let you both get some sleep, and he’ll be as good as new in a few days … or weeks.” He scratched his head as he turned away, then mumbled, “If he doesn’t catch the fever and the wound doesn’t putrify.”
Sophie felt the blood drain from her face. Putrify? Fever? When she was younger, a fellow servant had had a deep gash that had become horribly infected. He’d burned with fever for several days, his knee oozing foul-smelling pus. And then he’d died.
God,
please protect Gabe. Please don’t let him die
.
She lifted the wooden cross that hung around her neck and held it against her lips while she silently prayed.
After pleading with God to heal Gabe, Sophie walked over and sat beside him. “Are you cold? I can ask Walther if he has another blanket.”
Walther came up beside her and handed her a blanket. “Take mine,” he said gruffly. “I don’t need it.”
She spread it over Gabe before sitting by him again.
“You need to lie down and sleep too, Sophie,” Gabe said. “You take the blanket.”
“I’ll sleep over there on the ground. I’m not cold.”
Walther was back again, hovering over them. “We’ll all stay close tonight. Sophie, you share the blanket with Gabe. He’s a duke’s son, isn’t he? Petra said he was.”
Sophie stared at Gabe, wondering if he would tell the truth.
After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “I am.”
“Good.” Walther nodded. “Sophie is a duke’s daughter. You can marry her when this is all over.” He turned and stalked toward his horse, as if he’d just settled an argument.
Gabe stared after Walther’s retreating back, and Sophie gazed at Gabe with her mouth open and her eyes wide.
Seconds passed and she didn’t say a word. Neither did he.
Gabe should probably tell Walther that Sophie couldn’t marry him, but Sophie was in no danger from him tonight. He couldn’t even move without the excruciating pain in his shoulder intensifying like a red-hot knife stabbing him. And to be honest, he was cold and wanted Sophie near.
Sophie lay down next to him, the crossbow beside her.
“Planning to use that?”
“Only if we’re threatened.” She had a plucky, defiant look on her face that made respect well up inside him.
“Do you know how?” he goaded her.
“Yes, I do.” She pulled the weapon around to show him.
“I have to press this metal thing here to shoot the arrow. And I have more arrows right here. If I need to reload, I step on this to put in the arrow.” She showed him that she had retrieved his leather quiver.