Robin Lee Hatcher (9 page)

“That’s right,” her husband said. “Open your eyes now.”

Slowly, she did.

Ian smiled his relief. “You’ve given us quite a scare, love.”

“What happened?”

Karola said, “You fainted.”

“Fainted?” Laura rolled her head toward Karola. “Don’t be silly. I never faint.”

Ian released a humorless chuckle. “Then you’ll be tellin’ us, please, what it is you’re doin’ here, lyin’ on your back on the kitchen floor.”

She hesitated before answering. “I haven’t the foggiest notion, Ian Gaffney.” She frowned as she drew a deep breath. “But I didn’t faint. Now, help me up. Our dinner’s growing cold.”

“The dinner can wait.” Still kneeling, Ian lifted Laura into his arms, then stood. “You’ll be stayin’ in bed until the doctor has a look at you.” He glanced toward Tulley. “Da, will you go for Doc Cooper?”

“Aye, I’m already on me way.”

Laura began to protest. “Ian—”

“’Tis no use arguing with me, darlin’. You’ll not be movin’ until the doctor says you may.” With those words, he carried her from the kitchen.

Karola felt a hand cup her elbow, and she looked up into Jakob’s worried gaze. As he helped her stand, she answered his unspoken question with a slight shake of her head. Then she heard a sob and glanced toward the sound.

There stood Bernard, tears streaming down his face, still balancing the rest of the plates in his arms, shattered pieces of the one he had dropped surrounding him on the floor.

She hurried to him. “Do not be frightened, Bernard. Your cousin will be feeling herself very soon.” She hoped she was telling the truth.
Please, God, let my words be true.

“I didn’t mean to break it,” he choked out in a pitifully small voice. “It … it slipped.”

Her heart caught in her chest as she took the stack of plates, set them on the table, then knelt amid the shards and gathered the boy into a close embrace. “The plate can be replaced, Bernard. We know it was an accident. It does not matter that it is broken. Do not cry.” She kissed his cheek. “Do not cry.”

“Da?” Maeve sounded near tears herself. “Is Miss Karola right? Will Cousin Laura be okay?”

“Yes, she will be.”

Karola could only hope Jakob’s response sounded far more confident in their ears than it did in hers.

Chapter Thirteen

A
s it happened, both Jakob and Karola were right in what they told the children. Laura was perfectly healthy, according to Dr. Cooper.

By the time the Hirsch carriage headed back to the farm, the joyous news was spreading throughout Shadow Creek—Laura and Ian Gaffney were expecting their first child.

Monday morning, as Karola walked from cabin to farmhouse, she paused halfway down the hillside to stare upward, watching the sky as it changed from darkness to light, from gray to blue. She listened to dozens—perhaps hundreds—of tiny finches chirping in nearby trees and saw the limbs bounce and sway as the birds hopped from branch to branch.

Overwhelming joy burst within her, and she smiled, threw out her arms, and spun around in circles.

“Thank you, God, for this day!”

Her mother had often told her there was no joy to compare with the joy of the Lord, the joy of a believer who trusted in Jesus. Karola hadn’t understood what she meant then, and she wasn’t sure she understood fully yet. All she knew was that she was different. Inside. In her heart.

And she wasn’t alone. For years she’d felt utterly alone, rejected, unwanted. But no more. Even in her solitary little cabin in this brand-new land, so far from her parents and the people she’d known all of her life, she’d discovered she wasn’t alone. The rejection, the shame, that she’d felt even just a few days before had been lifted from her heart by a divine hand.

Still smiling, she continued down the hillside. “I do not know how you did it, Father God, but I thank you for setting me free.”

One of Jakob’s dogs trotted over to meet her as she entered the barnyard. She paused a moment to lean down and stroke its head.

“Guten Morgen.”
Her greeting was rewarded with a rapid wag of its tail.

Catching a whiff of frying bacon, she straightened and looked toward the house. Light fell through the kitchen window in a welcoming glow. But was she truly welcome there? She wondered if Jakob would rush out to do his chores the instant he saw her, the way he had the first morning.

When she entered the kitchen a few moments later, she found Jakob standing at the stove, clad in scuffed black boots and trousers that had been patched at the knees. His red plaid shirt was tucked into the waistband of his pants, but his suspenders hung down at his thighs, as if he’d forgotten to finish dressing in his haste to prepare something to eat. His hair was mussed, his jaw unshaven.

Looking at him, Karola felt the strangest fluttering in her belly.

Jakob cast a glance in her direction as the door closed behind her. “Morning. Care for a fried egg?”

She swallowed hard. “
Ja. Danke.
But let me help you.”

“No need. Even I can fry bacon and eggs.” He motioned with his head. “Coffee’s done perking. Help yourself.”

“Danke,”
she said again, then went to the cupboard, glad for a reason not to look at him and troubled that she needed one.

“Have you got everything you need up at the cabin?” Jakob spoke over his shoulder. “Staying warm enough at night?”

“Ja.”
She took a large mug from the shelf. “It is quite cozy.”

He cracked an eggshell on the side of the skillet. Grease splattered and popped as the egg dropped into the pan. Raising his voice above the noise, he said, “I figured you’re going to need to buy some supplies. I know the pantry’s in poor shape, and those things the ladies sent out are near gone.”

Thank heaven she hadn’t had to point this out to him.

Jakob cracked three more eggs in succession. “I should have seen to it the day I brought you out from town, but I guess I had other things on my mind.” He reached for the saltshaker. “I’ll hitch up the wagon for you whenever you want to go.”

Using a dishtowel to protect her hand, she took the coffeepot from the stove. “Whenever it is best for you, Jakob.”

“Me? No, thanks. I’ve made way too many trips into town as it is lately.”

She turned to stare at him. “But, Jakob, I know nothing about horses and wagons. I would not know how to control the animals.”

His disbelief was plain. “You’ve
never
driven a wagon?”

“
Nein.
Never.”

He muttered something under his breath.

“I am sorry, Jakob.”

“It’s not your fault.” Both his tone and his expression belied his words.

She returned the coffeepot to the stove, the mug still empty. “Father never owned a horse.”

“I thought after all this time that—” He gave his head a shake. “I guess I’ll have to teach you, but not today. Lance can take you to town when he gets here.”

Jakob felt about an inch tall. There wasn’t any good reason for talking to Karola in such a sharp tone, and yet it seemed he did it every time they were together. One minute a smile would be lifting the corners of her pretty, bow-shaped mouth, and the next something he said would wipe it away. When she’d entered the kitchen this morning, she’d looked happy. There’d been a sparkle in her blue eyes that seemed to brighten the entire room. Even he’d felt brighter for a moment. It had seemed right that she was with him in that early morning hour. He’d felt an unmistakable desire to kiss smiling lips, as if there would have been a rightness in that, too.

But it wouldn’t have been right. She’d made that clear when she called off their wedding.

Maybe that was why he spoke to her so sharply. Maybe he wanted her to be miserable instead of happy. Maybe he was punishing her. If so, he knew that wasn’t fair of him. Karola was doing her best in a less-than-perfect situation. She could have refused to help him out. There wouldn’t have been much he could do about it if she had. So why didn’t he show her a little appreciation? Had he really become so hardened by the circumstances of life that there was no kindness left in him?

Calling himself several kinds of a fool, he scooped the fried eggs from the skillet and added them to the plates that already held crisp strips of bacon and several slices of toast. Then he carried the plates to the kitchen table. “Let’s eat while it’s hot.”

Karola sat opposite him, her gaze downcast. She looked so sad.

Jakob wished for a way to put the sparkle back into her eyes and the smile back on her lips. At one time taking her in his arms and kissing her would have done the trick, but that wasn’t the answer now. Not knowing what else to do, he settled for speaking a brief thanks over the food, then reached for his fork and began to eat. As soon as he was done, he excused himself and headed outside, eager to get on with his morning chores.

Or was his haste really because he wanted to escape Karola’s disturbing presence?

Karola was glad to see Jakob go.

His words and tone of voice had hurt. Clearly she was more of a burden than a help because of her inability to drive a team of horses into town. But what caused her the most discomfort was the way her heart had skittered whenever their gazes met, no matter how briefly.

I am not a silly schoolgirl,
she reminded herself as she hid her face in her hands while resting her elbows on the table.
I will
not act like one.

Lowering her hands, Karola drew a deep breath. “I would not be here if not for my promise to let you lead me, Father. Do not let me lose sight of my work. Do not let me make a fool of myself again.”

“Who you talkin’ to?”

With a start, Karola twisted on her chair. Maeve stood near the kitchen doorway, her hair all in tangles, her eyes sleepy pools of green. Her nightgown hit her at midcalf, and her feet were bare.

“I was talking to God,” Karola answered.

Maeve frowned.

“I am only now learning to do that. To ask God for help.”

“What you need help with?”

“With everything, it seems.” Karola knew her smile was sad. “With everything.”

One day at a time, Karola restored order to the Hirsch household.

On Monday, she returned from her trip to town with an abundance of foods with which to restock the pantry shelves. That evening, she prepared what she considered her first real meal. It was only a stew made with beef, stewed tomatoes, chunks of potatoes and carrots, and chopped onions, served with biscuits and an apple pie for dessert. But watching Jakob and the children devour the food gave her an enormous sense of accomplishment.

On Tuesday, Karola tackled the task hated by women around the world—the laundry. After a night of soaking soiled linens and clothing in tubs filled with warm water, she hauled heated water from the stove to the basement, then washed each item in a suds bath, rubbing them vigorously against a washboard. She scrubbed and wrung and rinsed and dipped in bluing, then wrung again and starched and wrung again. And finally, she placed the heavy load of damp linens and clothes in a large basket and hauled them up the stairs to hang outdoors on the line.

On Wednesday, she ironed. And ironed and ironed and ironed. And as she did so, she wondered what on earth had possessed her to think she wanted a dozen children when only three and their father could create so much work.

On Thursday, Karola mended. She was glad for a reason to sit for any length of time. Normally, she enjoyed needlework. However, darning a basketload of socks and underwear wasn’t the same thing as making a new dress or cross-stitching a pillow cover. To help pass the time, Karola told stories to the children.

On Friday, Karola set to work on the family garden. It was a little late in the spring, but she hoped she would be able to put up canned fruits and vegetables for the family to enjoy through the winter. Maeve and Bernard helped by plucking rocks from the dirt as Karola hoed the soil. Aislinn’s contribution was to eat an earthworm while getting as filthy as possible.

Each day of the week, as Karola fell more and more in love with these children, she prayed, asking God to protect her from her own willful nature, asking him to keep her feet firmly planted on the ground and not to act foolishly about Jakob a second time.

Chapter Fourteen

I
akob had decided Karola should learn to ride astride before she worried about driving a team. She hadn’t protested until he gave her a pair of trousers.

“I cannot wear those!”

He’d stared at her. “Why not? They’ll be too big, but you can roll up the legs and cinch the waist with a rope.”

“I cannot wear them because … because they are not proper.”

Sounding as impatient as he felt, he’d said, “A woman in trousers isn’t so unheard of in these parts. Siobhan wore them whenever she helped me in the fields or when she went riding. You sure can’t ride astride in one of your dresses. Unless you plan to hike your skirts up around your thighs, that is.”

She’d blushed the brightest shade of red he’d ever seen and had not argued with him further.

Now, seeing Karola’s wide eyes as she stared at the horse in the corral, Jakob realized she wasn’t merely unsure about the propriety of a woman wearing pants. She was scared to death of the horse itself.

“General’s as gentle as a kitten,” Jakob reassured her.

Karola glanced up at him, disbelief shining in her eyes.

“Maeve and Bernard both learned to ride on General,” he added.

She turned her gaze to where the children were standing nearby. “You did?”

They nodded.

Maeve looked at her as though she were the silliest woman she’d ever seen. “We ride General all the time.”

Bernard added, “Yeah. All the time.”

Karola looked toward the corral again. “They can ride
that
horse? But he is so big.”

“They’ve been riding him since they weren’t much older than Aislinn.”

She worried her lower lip with her teeth for a few moments. “You would not allow the children to do anything unsafe.”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t.” He paused. “I wouldn’t allow you to do anything unsafe either.”

Again she looked at him, and it seemed to Jakob there was something new swirling in her blue eyes. Trust, perhaps?

It surprised him that he wanted it to be. He’d given her so few reasons to trust him since she’d arrived in Shadow Creek. He’d demanded and he’d ordered and he’d snapped at her in anger and frustration. He’d even embarrassed her with his hiked-up-skirts remark. No, he had little reason to hope for her to trust him. Yet he did.

As if in response to his private thoughts, she gave him the smallest of smiles. “Then I am ready, Jakob.”

He felt a sudden and nearly uncontrollable urge to brush back the stray wisps of golden hair from her pretty face. He wanted to touch the smooth skin of her cheek with his fingertips. He wanted to tell her she looked adorable in a shirt that was much too large and the trousers that were turned up at the hem. Perhaps he would have acted on his desires if Lance hadn’t strolled out of the barn right then.

“Hey, boss, ain’t you got that nag saddled for Miss Breit yet?”

Jakob took a quick step back from Karola. “Not yet.” His voice cracked when he spoke, and he hoped the young farmhand— and Karola—hadn’t noticed.

Arriving at the corral, Lance smiled at Karola. “There’s nothing to riding a horse, ma’am. You just relax and do what Jakob tells you, and you’ll be fine. He’ll have you ridin’ like you been doing it all your life in no time at all.”

Jakob opened the corral gate and moved through the opening, then glanced over his shoulder at Karola. Understanding his unspoken request, she followed him, and he closed the gate behind her.

With a soft nicker of welcome, General came toward them. Karola quickstepped closer to Jakob’s side—as if she could be trampled by a horse that was moving at a snail’s pace!

“He’s hoping we’ll have a treat for him,” Jakob explained. “He’s a real beggar, this one. Sugar, apples, carrots, oats, whatever he can get.”

General stopped, nickered again, then nudged Jakob’s chest with his muzzle.

Jakob patted General’s neck. “Nothing this time, old boy.” He glanced at Karola. “At one time, according to my father-in-law, General was the fastest horse in six counties. Sweeney used to race anybody who was willing to make a wager, and most of the time, he would come away with the pot, too. But General took a bad fall a few years back, while we were still in Wyoming, and his racing days ended. That’s when he became the children’s horse.”

Tentatively, Karola reached out and stroked General’s forehead.

“Nothing ever spooks this fella,” Jakob continued, “but it’s best not to make sudden movements around any horse. Talk to them as if they understand you. They may not know the words, but they can tell plenty by your voice. If you’re calm, they’re likely to be calm, too.”

A gust of wind raised a dust devil in the center of the corral and a shadow fell across the earth. Jakob looked up, surprised to find broiling black clouds whipping across the sky from west to east.

“Sorry, Karola. We’ll have to put off this lesson. Looks like we’ve got some weather blowing in.”

Never in her life had Karola seen such a storm.

The furious wind slammed into the side of Jakob’s house, causing it to shudder and shake as if hit by a giant fist. The midday darkness brought by the storm clouds was broken only by blinding flashes of lightning that forked from heaven to earth. The loud, rolling thunder that followed seemed endless.

Seated between Maeve and Bernard on the parlor sofa, Karola tried not to jump at each new bolt of lightning, each new crack of thunder, each new gust of wind. She knew the older children were frightened, and she wanted desperately not to make them more so. Aislinn, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying the storm. She sat on the floor in front of the sofa, playing with some colored blocks, pausing to look up whenever a flash of lightning brightened the room, then laughing when the subsequent thunder roared.

O God, let it end soon. Give me peace so I will not make the
children even more afraid. Let me be like Aislinn, fearless in the
face of this storm.

Another flash lit up the parlor, followed almost instantaneously by a deafening clap of thunder. Maeve shrieked and buried her face against Karola’s left side. Bernard started to cry and hid his face against Karola’s right side.

That’s when God answered her prayer. His peace settled over her like a familiar quilt.

“Do not be afraid, little ones,” she said softly. “It is only the bad temper of the clouds you hear. They are shouting at the lightning for being so bright. The same way you shout when you are angry at one another.” She tightened her arms around Maeve and Bernard. “Would you like me to tell you a story to make you forget the storm?”

“Yes,” came Maeve’s muffled voice.

“Yes.” Bernard’s echo was followed by a noisy and very wet sniff.

“All right. Let us see now. What story shall I tell this time?”

Maeve peeked up from her hiding place. “Can you tell us the one about Briar Rose again? I liked it the best.”

“If that is what you wish, Maeve, I will tell it. It is a favorite of mine, too.”

Lightning flashed again. Thunder shook the house. The children pressed closer to Karola’s sides, and she gave them each a smile of encouragement.

“A long, long time ago,” she began, “there was a king and queen who had no children, though they wanted a child very much. One day when the queen was bathing, an enchanted frog came out of the water and said to her, ‘You will soon have your wish. Before a year passes you will have a daughter.’”

“That’s Briar Rose.” Bernard’s cheeks were still tear-streaked, but the terror had left his eyes.

“
Ja,
but she was not called that until later in the story.”

Maeve leaned forward and scowled at her brother. “Just listen.”

He stuck out his tongue.

Karola hid a smile.

“Go on,” Maeve said.

“The queen did have a beautiful little girl, as the frog had promised. The king was so filled with joy, he gave a great feast and invited nearly everyone he knew. Now there were thirteen fairies who lived in the kingdom and—”

“Da says there’s no such thing as fairies and leprechauns and such,” Maeve interjected.

“
Ja,
your father tells you the truth. It is make-believe, this story.”

Bernard leaned forward. “Just
listen.
” It was a dead-on imitation of his sister.

To hide her amusement, Karola pretended to clear her throat. “Where was I? Oh, I remember. Because the king and queen had only twelve gold plates and there were thirteen fairies, one of them could not be invited. And so the day of the feast arrived. It was splendid in every way. When the feasting was done, the twelve fairies began to bestow gifts upon the baby princess. One gave her beauty, and one gave her virtue, and one gave her riches, and so on. Each gift was more splendid than the one before. But before the twelfth fairy could bestow her gift, the uninvited thirteenth fairy appeared in the banquet hall. She was in a horrible fury.”

As if on cue, thunder crashed outside. The children pressed closer but this time didn’t make a sound.

“The thirteenth fairy’s voice boomed like thunder and frightened all the people. Do you suppose that was the thirteenth fairy we heard? Did she frighten you, too?”

“Yes!” Maeve and Bernard answered in unison, then both giggled.

Jakob stood outside the parlor, listening as Karola told her story of the sleeping princess who would become known as Briar Rose. He was not a man given to flights of fancy—and that included the telling of fairy tales. Still, there was something captivating about Karola’s voice.

At some point, about the time the princess pricked her finger and fell into a deep sleep, along with the king and queen and the entire court, Jakob realized the thunder had grown distant. By the time the hedge of briars had grown up around the castle, keeping out all the princes of neighboring kingdoms who sought to find the princess and break the evil spell, the wind had died down. And by the end of the hundred-year sleep, when the last prince found the briars had turned to flowers so he could pass through unharmed, Jakob heard rain splashing against the windows.

He eased forward and looked into the parlor. Karola sat on the sofa, a child on each side. Aislinn, seeming to hang on every word, stood in front of Karola, her hands on Karola’s knees. The scene was so much like a family it made his heart catch. A family— not just as his once had been, but as it might have been if only Karola had married him.

“The castle was strangely quiet,” Karola continued in a near whisper. “All the prince could hear was his own breathing. Everything in the castle was asleep, from the cook in the kitchen to the king and queen in their royal quarters to the horses in the stables to the doves on the ramparts to the flies on the wall. At last, the prince reached the tower and saw the sleeping princess. She was so beautiful, he could not take his eyes off of her …”

Jakob knew how the prince felt. He seemed unable to take his eyes off Karola as well. She looked incongruously beautiful in that oversized man’s shirt and the too-long britches. Her pale hair had pulled free from her hairpins and fell about her shoulders in delightful disarray.

“Impulsively, the prince bent down and gave the sleeping princess a kiss …”

Hadn’t Karola’s kisses been as sweet as honey? In Jakob’s memory, it seemed so.

“The moment the prince kissed Briar Rose, the spell was broken and her eyes opened. When she awakened, so did everyone and everything in the castle—the king and queen and the courtiers and the cook and the maid and the doves and the horses and the flies. Even the fire stood up and began to flicker under the cooking pots in the kitchen.” Karola smiled at the children, one at a time, and they grinned back. “And so the prince and Briar Rose were married, and they lived happily for the rest of their lives.”

Jakob stepped fully into the parlor doorway and applauded. Karola glanced up, wide-eyed, and her smile instantly vanished from her lips.

“Da!” Maeve slid from the sofa and ran toward him. “Did you hear? Isn’t it a pretty story?”

“I heard.” She threw her arms around his waist, and he gave her back a pat. But his gaze never left Karola. “It’s a pretty story. The Brothers Grimm. Correct?”

“Ja.”
Patches of pink stained her cheeks. “I did not hear you come in, Jakob.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt the performance.”

Bernard ran to Jakob. “I like the part about the frog the best. It was … What’s the word?”

Jakob tousled his hair. “Enchanted.”

“Yeah. En
chan
ted.”

Aislinn deserted Karola next, taking a few steps toward her father before dropping to her knees for a faster crawl. As his younger daughter approached, Jakob moved forward, bent down, and scooped her into his arms.

“And you, Aislinn. How did you like Karola’s story?”

“Kay-ro!” the toddler cried with glee as she twisted and pointed toward the sofa. “Kay-ro story!”

Up until now, Aislinn’s talking skills had consisted of
no, Da-
Da,
and plenty of indecipherable babble. But there was no mistaking her meaning now, and for some reason, it seemed fitting to Jakob that this milestone should have something to do with Karola Breit.

He thought to tell her so, but the front door burst open suddenly, revealing a rain-drenched Lance Bishop.