Inherit the Past

by Susan Finlay

  What an unusual child, she mused. She wondered about his mother. Would she be better for Max than Jenny had been? That thought made her wonder about Max’s life and family. She would get to hear about him and all that had happened to him in the past twenty years. Her spirits, lifted now by the two young people, made her decide that perhaps she was worrying overmuch. It certainly would be exciting to see her son again after all this time. And she had a grandson! What was he like? Was he like her boys? Would he be interested in farming?

  With the sun beginning to set, Monika finally saw their farm in the distance as they topped a ridge. Her energy renewed, she increased her pace, eager to sit in a comfortable chair and rest. Perhaps, with luck, after a good night’s rest, things wouldn’t look as dark. Perhaps she would be able to handle whatever problems she would have to face tomorrow.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  BY EARLY EVENING Max was feeling better. He even managed a joke or two with the men, using his awkward German, which they found more amusing. Gerhard said something to Karl. Sofie translated for Max.

  “He says that if you’re ready to ride, we can leave for Senden.”

  Max nodded, stood up, and slowly walked outside, shading his eyes against the bright sunlight.

  “You ride with Sofie,” Karl said. “She can help you if you feel woozy.”

  “Thanks. That’s probably best. What about my horse?”

  “I will lead your horse,” Karl said. He helped Sofie up onto her horse and then helped Max carefully mount up behind her.

  Max leaned against Sofie’s back slightly, relishing her closeness, but not wanting to seem too close, as the horses started walking back to the farm. Looking over his shoulder, he thought about how he’d figured he would die in that lonely shack. He shuddered inwardly. Apparently noticing, Sofie asked if he was okay. He told her he was fine and just had an itch. He looked over at his son and vaguely remembered that when he was in pain and only half awake, he’d told Ryan to go on, to try to find the others, and make a life for himself with Anneliese, if that’s what he wanted. Maybe the girl had killed Birgitta, but even if she had, Max realized he was in no position to judge anyone. He’d made plenty of mistakes in his lifetime and Ryan had paid the price. Ryan’s stubbornness and refusal to do what Max told him had kept the boy at his side, and for once Max was thankful for Ryan’s rebellious nature. The boy had apparently picked up some minor skills from his nurse mother and from his volunteer time at the hospital back home, taking care of Max the best he could until the doctor arrived. Without him, Max expected he probably would have died. If Ryan had lied to him and had indeed killed Birgitta, he’d more than made up for it in Max’s eyes; but he believed his son told him the truth.

  Max sighed. He longed to stroke Sofie’s hair. He loved holding her close to him, and although they didn’t speak much, the silence was comfortable and pleasant. When their pace slowed, Max finally broke the silence.

  “I’m sorry, Sofie. If I hadn’t argued with Ryan in the stables and gone off to be alone, none of this would have happened.”

  Sofie turned her head and said, “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I should have kept quiet and minded my own business.”

  “No. You did nothing wrong,” Max said. “It all comes down to my parenting skills. If I’d been a better father, Ryan wouldn’t have behaved the way he did. He’s been out of control since the divorce—no, even before that. He was angry with me and he did whatever he could to rile me. I know that now.”

  “I used to wonder about people who talked about having regrets,” she said. “When I was at University, I didn’t have any, but over the years I’ve collected quite a few—most recently the one that got you and Ryan accused of murder and now you wounded. You lost a lot of blood. I would never have forgiven myself if you’d died.”

  She paused as Karl suddenly pulled up beside them.

  “Gerhard thinks we are making good progress. We stop now and rest for short time.”

  “Thank goodness. That sounds heavenly,” Max said. Sofie agreed.

  Karl reached up to help Max down. Although Max disliked being treated like an invalid, he didn’t argue. The doctor had cautioned him that he needed to move carefully to prevent ripping off the bandage, opening the wounds, and starting up the bleeding again. Max had been alert during the whole leech insertion procedure and kept his eyes on Sofie who had watched the doctor in silence, her eyes wide and scared. He’d tried to put on a good show of strength for her sake, and even smiled like a lunatic, according to Ryan who had kidded him afterwards when Sofie wasn’t around to hear.

  Everyone gathered together underneath a large oak tree. The young men sat in the tall grass while Gerhard tended the horses. Karl sat himself on the only large boulder around. It was further away from the group, but still within earshot. He patted the rock and motioned for Max to sit next to him, which was a godsend because Max didn’t think he could manage sitting down on the ground and then getting back up again. As he sat down, Karl confided that he always tried to find a log or boulder to sit on because, as he put it, “these old bones are no longer made for the ground”.

  From his position on the rock, Max could see down the road they’d traveled in both directions, being a flat meadow peppered with a tree here and there. It felt safe here, in the open. Down the road though was a shadowy wooded area full of unknowns—for him anyway. Like his life here. He turned away and watched the others with mixed emotions. Karl had introduced everyone back at the shack, after the doctor had left, yet the introductions were vague, without context. Max still didn’t know if these people were connected with his mother. He’d tried asking Karl before they’d begun riding, but as usual he didn’t get an answer. The boys looked to be around Ryan’s age, possibly younger. It was difficult to tell because they had a roughness about them, likely everything in this century.

  Max looked around, but didn’t see Sofie. He asked Karl if he’d seen her.

  “Ja. She’s over there,” he said, pointing. Max looked and saw her sitting by herself on a fallen tree. He started to get up, but she saw him and shook her head, then looked away, her shoulders hunched over and possibly trembling. Was she crying again? Thinking back to their earlier conversation, he wondered if she was sorry she’d helped him find his grandmother’s house. Was that one of her regrets? He certainly couldn’t blame her if it was.

  Watching her, he thought about their tenuous relationship. All the time they’d traveled together, he’d thought, at least hoped, she was interested in him romantically. They hadn’t known each other very long, but in times of ordeals and challenges—take alien invasions or vampires threatening mankind in the movies, for instance—people leaned on each other for support, forging bonds between them at an accelerated pace. Hell, in the movies, the humans who fought off the attackers usually fell in love and did everything within their power to save each other. As naive as that sounded, he’d really believed it and had told Tobias that he was planning to ask her to marry him when the time was right. At the moment, though, he wasn’t sure how she felt about him. Maybe she was just a nice person, being nice to him because they were stuck together. Maybe she would dump him the moment they got back to their time—assuming they ever did. What if they didn’t? What if they were stuck here? Would she think he was a loser, below her status? Would she find some German Baron or professor to marry?

  She’d said that she was to blame for everything that had happened, but he knew she was wrong.

  After their brief respite, they continued their journey in silence into the dark woods. They slowed their pace as the afternoon faded into evening and darkness made it quite difficult to see. The gentle lope of the horse almost rocked Max to sleep. His thoughts drifted by in an almost dream-like trance and at one point he thought he was still in the shack and had dreamt the whole rescue.

  He tried to keep his thoughts light, but his mind wandered back to the mystery of Birgitta’s murder, his grandfather’s secrets, and his mother’s life in this
century. Several times he almost asked Sofie about Monika, but kept quiet because Karl was usually nearby and had excellent hearing for his age. Why that mattered, Max couldn’t say, but it did.

  Now, in the quiet solitude of night, at their leisurely pace, he said, “Are you upset with me, Sofie? I’ve been worried because you’ve barely said a word since we left the cabin.”

  “It’s not you,” she said, quietly. “It was scary, but it’s over now.”

  “Can we talk about it?”

  “I’d really rather not talk about it. Let’s put it behind us. If you don’t mind, I’d rather continue the ride in quiet.”

  Max’s spirits sank, though he tried not to show it.

  THE NEXT MORNING, after camping for the night in the woods, and not being attacked by marauders as he feared might happen, Max tried not to dwell on Sofie’s silence and simply concentrate on making it back to the farm. Maybe when she’s reunited with Tobias, things will be better. No one had mentioned Birgitta’s murder the whole time, and Max hesitated to bring it up. He didn’t know how much Gerhard and the others knew, nor did he know if any of them understood English.

  As they were preparing to ride again, Sofie approached her horse and Max, who was stroking the animal’s muzzle. “Karl says the farm is nearby,” she said. “He thinks we’ll be there in less than two hours.”

  “Thank God!” Max said. “My backside needs a break.”

  “Mine, also.”

  Moving again, Max settled into the saddle again behind Sofie and relaxed a little. His wound seemed to be healing fine, with only a few new spots of blood seeping onto the bandages. They soon came out of the woods and into rolling plains again, trotting through willowy grass. Max smiled and nudged Sofie when they passed a herd of deer grazing in a nearby meadow. One of the deer looked up and froze momentarily, but soon bent its head back to continue enjoying the tall grass.

  A murder of crows flapped overhead, cawing and squawking, their lively maneuvers entertaining Max and Sofie on their otherwise boring ride. Suddenly, Max spotted something in a tree off to the left side of the road. He craned his neck trying to figure out what it was. When he realized it was an owl, he was as excited as a young boy. “Look over there,” he said, pointing at a gnarled oak tree. “See the owl?”

  Sofie twisted on the horse as she tried to get a better view. “Oh, I see it. How lovely! I’ve not seen an owl in the wild before. This is amazing.” She turned and looked at Max, and gave him a dazzling smile. “Thank you for pointing it out to me.”

  Feeling optimistic, Max said, “This ride is a lot more pleasant than the ride to Günzberg. The scenery here is beautiful. I could get used to this place, though I have to admit that I miss modern amenities.”

  “So do I,” Sofie said.

  “You know, as amazing as all this is, I’m getting homesick, especially for a good meal,” Max said. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but I miss watching television and going to movies.”

  Sofie laughed. “Oh, I know what you mean. It’s amazing how much we take for granted.”

  “And I sure would enjoy a nice long soak in a hot bathtub,” Max said, “but I suspect at best I’ll get a cold dip in a river.” Wow, I really am bad off, he thought, because after the many grungy days on horseback, even that sounded wonderful. A change of clothes would also be heavenly, but he didn’t want to bring that up and make her self-conscious since her clothes smelled as bad as his must.

  Sofie laughed again.

  Max said, “Are Tobias, Anneliese, and Lotte at the farm? No one has mentioned them. Are they safe?”

  “Yes, and they are safe at Gerhard’s farm. It was tough leaving Tobias, especially after—”

  Max suddenly wished he hadn’t brought that up. Now she wasn’t talking. He sighed. “You know, you can talk to me. If we’re to have any kind of future together, we need to be able to talk openly.”

  “I haven’t talked about it because I’d rather forget it,” Sofie said, her voice trembling. “Besides, it’s not really your problem.”

  What was she talking about? Did she think he killed Birgitta? Was she afraid to say what was on her mind? He remained silent for a few minutes, thinking. Then, all of a sudden, another possibility hit him. Karl had said he thought Lotte was the killer—and Lotte was Sofie’s great-aunt. Either way, she would be reticent to talk about it.

  He said, “Do you know who the murderer is?”

  She didn’t say anything, but Max felt her body stiffen slightly.

  “I didn’t kill Birgitta,” he said. “I get angry sometimes. Everybody does. When I’m angry, I walk away. It’s always been that way with me. Ryan’s the same way. I can’t say for sure that he didn’t do it—but he told me he didn’t and the way he said it, I believe him.”

  Again, Sofie didn’t answer, which sent shivers through Max. For the rest of their ride, Max stared ahead and continually replayed their conversation in his head. He didn’t know what to make of Sofie. At least she didn’t say we had no future together, he told himself, trying unsuccessfully to bolster his spirits.

  They continued riding, but the silence was deafening. All he heard was the clip-clop of the horses’ hooves on the rough road, and the arguing in his own head.

  Finally, they rode up to a white-washed farmhouse. He spotted the barn, similar to the one where he and Ryan had hidden, and felt a sudden anxious chill. He tried not to think about the angry men, the pitchfork, and the bucket, but he couldn’t help it. Then he wondered again who had hit him on the head with a bucket from the gasthof’s stables on the night of Birgitta’s murder.

  He wrangled away the thoughts, but they still simmered in the background. His heart already weighed a ton because of his problems with Sofie. Now he was about to find out if his mother was in any way connected to these men and boys. The closer they got to the farmhouse, the clammier his hands felt. Was he ready to face his mother if she was here? What if she had replaced Max and his sister and no longer cared? She had lived here for twenty years. Damn it. I should have considered that earlier. Gramps remarried. Like father, like daughter? He closed his eyes briefly.

  When the riders were almost to the farmhouse, the front door burst open and Tobias ran outside, jumping and hollering in German.

  Two teenage girls came rushing out behind Tobias, followed by Anneliese and Lotte. Max smiled and waved as Sofie stopped the horse in front of the house.

  Sofie nearly fell as she tried to dismount the horse, so eager was she to get to her son. Max grabbed her around the waist, and said, “Wait a sec. I’ll get down first and then help you down.”

  “No. You shouldn’t do that,” she said. “You could open your wounds.”

  He sighed and waited for Gramps. Some knight in shining armor.

  Karl helped Sofie to the ground. She immediately dashed to Tobias, pulling him into a tight embrace.

  “Mo…om, you’re squeezing too tight.”

  Max, now on the ground, too, smiled at their touching family reunion. He looked at Ryan for a moment, wistfully wishing they shared that kind of relationship, but out of the corner of his eye he saw another person on the porch. Looking more closely, he recognized his mother, or more accurately an older, more matronly version of her. Monika was standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb with her arms crossed, her expression blank, unreadable, but her stance seemed somehow forbidding, although he wasn’t sure if that was only his imagination. Her formerly dark-blonde hair was almost white now, and it was styled in a bun, as opposed to the styles she’d always worn, generally somewhere between chin-length and shoulder-length.

  He wanted to rush to her and embrace her the way Sofie had done with Tobias, but his legs seemed weighted down with lead. Something in the way she looked his way made him uncertain. His worries flooded back. What if she didn’t want him intruding in her life? What if she’d stayed here in this century by choice? Maybe she hadn’t looked for her father or for a way back.

  He was drawn out of his thoughts by s
omeone pulling on his shirt sleeve. Before he realized who it was, Tobias threw his arms around Max’s waist. Max automatically hugged him tightly even though his wounds hurt from the pressure. When Max looked up, he saw Ryan watching them, but this time Ryan didn’t look angry or hurt, but more relieved.

  Tobias said, “I’m glad you’re back. I missed you.” He pulled back slightly and looked up into Max’s eyes, smiling.

  Max was amazed at how much he cared about that little boy. “I missed you, too, scamp.”

  Tobias, still grinning, asked, “Did she agree to marry you? Are you going to be my father?”

  “What?” Sofie asked. She sounded shocked, and Max felt his face grow hot. He hadn’t seen her approach.

  Tobias said, “Oops! You haven’t asked her yet. Sorry.”

  Max cleared his throat and wiped sweat from his forehead.

  Tobias’s face turned red.

  “It’s all right. Your mom and I have much to discuss. It’s just been hectic and we haven’t talked yet.” He patted Tobias on the head, then walked away. He needed time alone to reappraise his situation. For a while, as they’d traveled from Riesen, Max had thought his life was getting back on track, that maybe he’d time traveled for a reason. Sofie and Tobias had, in a way, brought him here. They, he’d thought, would be his new life. Now, it looked very much as if he’d been mistaken. The story of his life. One mistake after another.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  AN UNWELCOME HEAT crept into Sofie’s cheeks. She rubbed her hand over one cheek as if that would wipe away her obvious blush. She faced Tobias, not knowing what to say. Finally, in a voice barely above a whisper, she asked, “What was that about?”

  Conflict was plainly written on his face. He turned away abruptly, uncomfortable with his internal struggle. He was too young to mask his emotions.