by Jody Hedlund
Even now, after a sleepless night, she busied herself taking care of Anna.
In the pale light from the lantern she’d hung from the ceiling beam, he could see that Anna’s face was bruised, her bottom lip swollen, and her neck scratched. From the condition of her clothing, he suspected she’d been assaulted.
Sophie had already told him about Anna during one of their late-night barn conversations. He knew Anna had helped Sophie find shelter in New York City, that Anna’s sister Mollie had taken them in, and that Anna had fled west with her to escape repercussions from the Roach Guard gang.
Sophie dipped a cloth in the warm water, and that was when he saw the tears coursing down her cheeks. At the sight of her distress, he caught her arm and pulled her toward him. She didn’t resist, but fell into him. “What’s wrong?” he whispered. “Why the tears?”
“It’s my fault this happened, that Anna’s like this.”
“Did she wake up and tell you what happened?”
“For just a few minutes.” Sophie shuddered against him, and Reinhold drew her closer. All his reservations from only moments ago vanished with the need to comfort her. “If only we’d gone our own way in Chicago like we planned.”
His entire being rebelled against the notion of her being in Chicago. “No, Soph, you did the right thing—”
“But Mr. Pierce is an animal. He forced himself onto Anna, and when she didn’t cooperate, he attacked her.”
“So he violated her?”
“She said she fought him off and then ran away.” Sophie shuddered again.
Reinhold kissed her loose, silky hair.
“I shouldn’t have let her go with him,” Sophie whispered through her tears. “I should have fought to keep us together.”
What if Sophie had been the one to go with the Pierces instead of Anna? Anger ignited deep inside Reinhold at the thought of any other man touching Sophie, much less hurting her. He hugged her tighter, grateful he’d found her, that she was here and never again would have to be homeless and susceptible to men like Mr. Pierce.
He ran his hand down the length of her hair, letting his fingers get lost there. He was suddenly conscious once again of her body against his, the softness melding into him. That same sharp desire he’d experienced in the kitchen rolled through him like a sudden hot fever.
He almost trembled with the need to taste her kiss, to fuse his mouth and body with hers.
At a mumbling from the bed, Sophie pulled back and wiped at her cheeks.
He reluctantly released her and started toward the door. Once in the dark hallway, he stopped and leaned his forehead against the wall, soaking in the coolness and attempting to control his erratic pulse. What was he doing? He thumped his head against the wall to knock some sense into himself. He’d just given himself a lecture about the need to keep his hands off Sophie. How could he have so easily given in to his desire?
Silently he cursed his weakness. If he allowed himself to take his pleasure with Sophie, he’d be no better than Mr. Pierce. Surely Sophie was just as vulnerable as Anna. They were both penniless and dependent on others for survival, which made them easy prey.
Even if Sophie didn’t consider herself vulnerable in the same way as Anna, she still was. She needed him right now. She was relying on him to help her gain custody of Olivia and Nicholas. If the circumstances were different, if she had the means to take care of herself and already had the children, then she wouldn’t have married him and wouldn’t have kissed him.
Sure, maybe she thought she liked him. After all, she’d kissed him back and seemed to find pleasure in his touch. But the truth was, she wouldn’t be here if she had a way to survive on her own. And if he allowed their passion to go unchecked, he’d be taking what she couldn’t freely offer. He’d be using her, and he couldn’t allow himself to do that.
He bumped his head against the wall again. He had to stick with their original plan to keep their relationship a business partnership. The problem was, he was too weak and apparently too enamored with her to maintain his resolve. He couldn’t keep his hands off her or his desires in check.
There was only one thing left to do. It was something he should have done already, and he wouldn’t put it off another day. He’d ride into town as soon as he finished the morning chores and place the telegram to Elise and Marianne. Surely by week’s end they’d come and collect their lost little sister and take her home with them where she belonged. After looking for her all this time, they’d be ecstatic the search was finally over.
Yes, he’d promised Sophie he wouldn’t contact them. But this was for her own good, for her protection from him, and for her future freedom. Maybe someday she’d understand and forgive him.
Sophie lifted Anna’s head and helped her to take a sip of coffee. Anna winced as the mug made contact with her split lip.
“I’m sorry.” Sophie eased the mug away.
“It looks worse than it feels,” Anna replied, lying back again. The skin around one eye was swollen and discolored with a mixture of black and purple, her cheekbone contained a bright red welt, and fingerprints marred her neck where Mr. Pierce had attempted to choke her.
“We shouldn’t have come west with the orphans.” Sophie placed the mug onto the crate next to the bed. But even as she said the words, she realized she was lying to herself. If she hadn’t come west, she wouldn’t have seen Reinhold again. And now that she had, she couldn’t imagine her life without him.
“I could have just as easily gotten beaten up in the city,” Anna said.
“But isn’t life supposed to be better here?” Sophie sat in the chair she’d brought up from the kitchen and positioned next to the bed. “Reverend and Mrs. Poole promised that these families would provide good homes.”
“And yours has,” Anna said, looking around the sparse bedroom. “You ended up in two places that are both wonderful.”
Sophie had already informed Anna about all that had transpired over the past month, telling her friend first about her home with the Duffs and then about marrying Reinhold so that she could get Olivia and Nicholas back. She hadn’t explained to Anna the true nature of her relationship with Reinhold. How could she when she didn’t understand it yet herself?
She wanted to sneak a few minutes alone with Reinhold and steal a few more kisses, and maybe this time she’d gather the courage to tell him she loved him. Maybe their marriage had started out with her using him to get Nicholas and Olivia, but it was more than that now, and she wanted him to know.
“I was content at the Pierces’. Until yesterday.” Anna shivered, and Sophie tugged the blanket up to her friend’s shoulders. “I thought Ben—Mr. Pierce—was a sweet man. He was always considerate and kind and friendly. Yet I should have realized he was trying to make me like him so that I’d sleep with him.”
“How could you realize that?” Sophie smoothed a hand over Anna’s cheek.
“Now that I look back, I can see all the signs. He confided in me that his wife was cold to him, and he complained she didn’t love him anymore. She never got upset when Ben talked to me or spent time with me. In fact, she seemed almost relieved I was taking his attention. There were even times when I blamed her for being calloused and thought about what it would be like to become his wife in her place.”
Anna’s eyes turned glassy with unshed tears. “What if this was my fault, Sophie? What if he sensed that I liked him? What if I was too forward and made him believe I’d welcome his affection?”
“What happened isn’t your fault,” Sophie replied. “No man should force himself onto a woman, even if the woman really cares about him.”
“But maybe I gave him the impression that I wanted him too.”
Sophie pictured the way Anna had been with Mugs—kissing and holding him freely, going much further than Sophie had with Danny. Had Anna done the same with Mr. Pierce? “It doesn’t matter how affectionate you were,” she said adamantly. “No one should ever make you do something that you’re not agreeable to. If
it’s not mutual loving, then it’s not love.”
Anna nodded, but her expression remained skeptical.
Sophie tried to think of a way she could reassure her friend further that she wasn’t to blame in any way for what had happened, but a sound outside the window drew her attention.
Was Reinhold finally returning? He’d left shortly after finishing his morning chores, telling her he had some business to attend to in town. She’d pleaded with him to sleep, but he’d insisted he needed to make good use of the frozen morning for running errands he’d been putting off.
She could hardly blame him for denying himself sleep when she’d done the same. Between caring for Anna and preparing meals, she’d only managed to rest for a couple of hours in the chair while Anna had slept.
Her heart gave an extra thud at the prospect of seeing Reinhold again. She was surprised at how much she missed him while he’d been gone. Thoughts of their passionate kisses from earlier stole into her mind, stirring longing for more.
She pushed out of her chair, eagerness bringing a smile to her lips.
“You love him,” Anna said.
It was more of a statement than a question. But it stopped Sophie. She weighed her friend’s words before answering. “I always admired him. I guess it was easy for my admiration to change to love.”
Anna regarded her with a somber expression. “Does he love you in return?”
“I think so.” He’d kissed her like he loved her. But she wasn’t naïve enough to believe that passion was the same thing as love. She sighed. “I don’t know.”
“Then be careful,” Anna said. “A wise person once told me that if it’s not mutual loving, it’s not love.”
Sophie’s stomach fluttered at her friend’s implication. “We haven’t loved each other that way yet.”
Anna quirked a brow.
“It’s complicated,” Sophie said.
“Are you planning to go your separate ways eventually?” Anna was as direct as always.
“No.” They hadn’t spoken of separating. At least she had no intention of it. She picked up the angel candle holder from the floor and placed it back on the crate in its spot of prominence. In all the places she’d lived over the past couple of years, she’d never put it out as a decoration. She’d used it as a weapon to break windows or locks, but she’d always tucked it back in her bag when she was finished.
But when cleaning the bedroom, she’d decided to liven it up. She brought in the crate, along with a rug and a colorful quilt Euphemia had given her, and it seemed only natural to put out the candle holder. It was still tarnished; she hadn’t polished it yet. Even so, with all its imperfections, the candle holder looked at home here.
This was home now, wasn’t it? This was what she’d been searching for—a safe and secure place she’d never have to leave. Just as soon as she had Nicholas and Olivia, she’d be truly happy. She’d have everything she wanted.
But did Reinhold feel the same way? What if he didn’t want to be burdened with her and Olivia and Nicholas forever? What if he wanted to have his old life back without the worry of a wife and children?
She shook her head. No, he wouldn’t be thinking that. He couldn’t be. Not after the way he’d held her.
Sophie crossed to the window, pulled aside the curtain, and peered past the rain-streaked glass. Earlier in the day, a thin layer of ice had coated the grass and fields and garden, turning the green landscape into a frosted wonderland. Then, as the day progressed, cold rain had washed away the brittle beauty of the morning, leaving in its place a soggy, muddy earth.
The horse and wagon slogging through the mud and water wasn’t Reinhold’s. Neither was the thin man hunched over to ward off the chill of the day. His oiled cloak was wrapped tight, his hat tipped low.
Sophie speculated over the man’s identity and was terrified at the prospect of Mr. Pierce coming to claim Anna. What if he barged into the house, stomped up the steps, and dragged Anna out of bed? How would they be able to stop him?
Jakob had arisen at dinnertime, eaten, and then headed off to fish for the afternoon. And Reinhold was still gone into town. She and Anna were alone and defenseless.
Just as the panic mounted, the newcomer glanced upward, as though sensing her looking at him from the bedroom window. A middle-aged man with spectacles, long sideburns, and a mustache stared up at her.
It was Reverend Poole.
Chapter 20
“Reverend Poole!” Sophie called as she stepped outside into the gray autumn afternoon. A chill permeated the air, and she hugged her shawl closer to her body.
She was disappointed he was alone, that Olivia and Nicholas weren’t scurrying from the wagon bed, eager to see her. Maybe the reverend hadn’t gone to the Ramseys’ place yet. Maybe he was coming to talk to her and Reinhold first, to assure himself of their marriage and of the living situation.
“Good afternoon, Sophie.” Reverend Poole had halted in a grassy section of the farmyard that hadn’t been pecked clean by the chickens. “Or should I say good afternoon, Mrs. Weiss?”
Mrs. Weiss. The sound of it sent a thrill through her. She was Mrs. Reinhold Weiss, and she was no longer under the jurisdiction of Reverend Poole or any other New York City worker. She was free, her own person, and no longer had to worry about being sent to jail or an orphan asylum.
“Good afternoon, Reverend,” she replied, attempting to use her best manners. She didn’t want Reinhold to be ashamed of her as his wife. She didn’t really know what was expected of her in greeting and welcoming company, but she had to try to make a good impression so that Reverend Poole would see she could take good care of the children.
He climbed down from the wagon bench and rubbed his gloved hands together as if attempting to regain warmth in them.
“Would you like to come inside for coffee?” she asked, thankful she’d had the foresight to pick up Reinhold’s wet clothes and hang them to dry. She wouldn’t want the reverend thinking Reinhold had undressed in the middle of the kitchen—even though he had, with her help.
Her cheeks heated, and she prayed the reverend couldn’t see her thoughts.
“I wouldn’t mind the chance to warm myself up,” he said as pleasantly as always.
She pivoted toward the house.
Reverend Poole didn’t follow her but instead rounded the wagon. “This little child of Christ is in need of warming too.”
Sophie froze. As the meaning of the reverend’s words penetrated and thawed her mind, she ran to the wagon bed, heedless of the puddles and the mud.
As the reverend pulled aside a wet canvas to reveal a lump under a pile of blankets, Sophie’s breath hitched. And as a little hand poked its way out of the tangle of blankets followed by a familiar face, Sophie cried out and scrambled up into the wagon. At the same time, the child was free of the blankets.
“Olivia!” Sophie dragged the girl into her arms.
Olivia came willingly, flinging herself at Sophie and hugging her with a fierceness that made Sophie’s heart ache. She could only imagine all the hurt, loneliness, and despair Olivia had experienced over the past month at the Ramseys’. The tightness of Olivia’s hold and the sobs shaking her frail body told Sophie more than words could.
“It’s all right, Liebchen,” Sophie crooned, even as tears slipped out and flowed down her cheeks. “You’ll be fine now. You’re with me.”
Over the top of the girl’s head, Sophie met the reverend’s gaze. He smiled gently. “I’m always grateful to the Lord when we get to experience a happy reunion like this.”
Sophie started to agree with him, but then released Olivia and searched the pile of blankets for another lump, another little body. She willed Nicholas to pop out and give her one of his endearing smiles. But the blankets lay flat.
“Where’s Nicholas?” She shoved at the canvas, hoping to unveil Nicholas in the other corner, but her efforts were to no avail.
The reverend’s smile faded. “I know you wanted to keep the children tog
ether—”
“Where is he?” Sophie pulled Olivia into her arms and clung to her, suddenly afraid that the reverend would take her away.
“The boy is still with the Ramseys,” Reverend Poole said, his expression one of pity. “They were ready to part with Olivia, had apparently only taken her on a trial basis, but they love Nicholas and want to keep him as their son.”
“The children must stay together.” Desperation dug deep into Sophie’s stomach. “They’re brother and sister and need to be with each other.”
The reverend shook his head sadly. “We often must split siblings, Sophie. You know that. But in this case, we can count our blessings the children will be in such close proximity to each other.”
“They’ll be even closer.” Sophie’s tone turned hard. “Because they’ll both be living together right here.”
“The Ramseys are making plans to adopt Nicholas.”
“No!” Sophie cried. “They can’t. He belongs with me and Olivia. We’re his family.”
“I’ve been informed that you’re not really his sister.”
Of course, Mr. Ramsey would have to expose her lie, undermine her trustworthiness, and create another reason not to return Nicholas to her care.
“It doesn’t matter whether I’m related to Nicholas and Olivia by blood. I’ve raised them both since they were babies. I’m the only mother they’ve known.”
“But now Nicholas has the chance to have a real mother and father—”
“I’m real—my love is real too.”
The reverend studied Sophie for a moment, as though weighing her words, but then he shook his head. “I’m sorry, Sophie. The Ramseys took Nicholas during his greatest hour of need. And I have no just cause to take him away—”
“If being with his family isn’t reason enough to bring him here, then all you need to do is investigate how Mr. Ramsey treats the children. He’s cruel. He locked Olivia in the attic!”
