by Jody Hedlund
“Mr. Ramsey explained everything.” Reverend Poole waved his hand, dismissing her concerns. “Apparently the girl needed to be disciplined, and rather than use the rod, he decided to give her time alone to think about her naughty behavior.”
From the way the reverend described the situation, Mr. Ramsey appeared almost benevolent. But Sophie had been to the house and had witnessed the cruelty for herself. Nicholas’s fear, Olivia’s pitiful cries, Mr. Ramsey’s rage. It wasn’t normal. And Mr. Ramsey wasn’t nice.
“Something is wrong with that man,” Sophie insisted. “His house is too neat. He’s too controlling . . . and he wouldn’t let me visit the children.”
Reverend Poole cocked his head, the pity in his eyes now irritating Sophie. “A neat house is hardly something to complain about. And as for controlling, Mr. Ramsey explained that he felt you were trying to visit the children too often and that such visits would only cause the children to cling to their past instead of let go and become a part of their new family. I have to say, I agree with him.”
Sophie could only watch the reverend with growing helplessness. Mr. Ramsey had already convinced Reverend Poole to side with him, and it was becoming clear that nothing would sway him.
Sophie moved to get out of the wagon, but Olivia clung to her so tightly that Sophie could hardly budge. Finally when she was standing again, she held Olivia like she used to do when the girl was much younger, with Olivia’s arms wrapped around her neck and legs locked at her waist. Sophie could feel Olivia’s bones sharply, and she weighed next to nothing. Not only had the little girl lost weight, but she seemed to have wilted over the past month, going from a strong-willed and talkative girl into a frightened, ghostlike shell of one.
If this could happen to Olivia after living with the Ramseys, what would happen to Nicholas? Sophie guessed he would fare better since the family actually wanted him. Even so, she didn’t like Mr. Ramsey and didn’t want Nicholas with him any longer. But how could she get him away?
The sound of horse hooves pounding the earth brought Sophie’s head back up. She peered down the muddy path to the sight of another horse and wagon driven by a lone rider with broad shoulders, a stocky build, and ruggedly handsome features.
Reinhold.
Reinhold would help her. He could convince the reverend to give them Nicholas.
The reverend might not respect her, might still view her as an orphan girl who didn’t know what was best. But surely he would listen to Reinhold.
Reinhold strained to keep his eyes open. For part of the last mile home, he’d dozed. The lack of sleep the previous night and the weariness of the day had finally caught up with him. Now, as he rumbled down the path toward home, the weight of all he’d done was overpowering, making him want to drop into the nearest haymow and fall into oblivion for just a little while.
Even though he wished he didn’t have to say anything, sooner or later he’d have to tell Sophie. And he wanted to be well rested when he explained his actions.
All the way home he’d justified the telegram, told himself he should have sent it the first day he’d seen Sophie. Then perhaps he wouldn’t be in his current predicament, wanting Sophie in his arms every time she turned around. Or thinking about how much he liked having her on the farm, as if she were meant to be there with him. Because she wasn’t.
He stuck his hand into his pocket and grazed his father’s watch, running his thumb along the jagged line in the cracked glass. The old thing had never worked, not even when his mother had given it to him after his father’s death. At the time, he’d kept it as a reminder that he didn’t want to become a brute like his father, a man who took out his anger on those around him.
But he’d ended up a brute anyway.
His anger was like a living and breathing dragon inside him. Although he kept it caged in the dark dungeon of his soul most of the time, there were times that it roared to life, spewing fire and wreaking destruction in its wake. And those times when he lost control scared and frustrated him.
He didn’t deserve someone as beautiful and vivacious as Sophie. He didn’t think he would ever hit her, yet his anger was dangerous. What would happen if it got the best of him? What if he ended up in jail and died there like his own father, leaving her helpless and alone and having to raise a family on her own?
No, she’d be better off with a different man, someone more righteous than he was. That was just one more reason why he’d done the right thing today in sending the telegram.
He expelled a long sigh, his breath coming out in a cloud of white against the frigid October day. The wagon rolled slowly, his grip on the reins having loosened the closer he drew to the house. He didn’t want to face her. Not yet.
But at the urgent call of his name, he lifted his head and tipped up the brim of his hat. Another wagon was parked in front of his house. A man in a stovepipe hat and long, dark cloak stood next to the wagon. The man wore spectacles and had a serious but not unkind expression. With his long mustache and thick sideburns, he had a scholarly appearance, certainly not the weathered, sunbrowned face of a farmer.
“Reinhold!” Sophie called again. She stood near the visitor and held a petite girl in her arms. Rather, the girl seemed to be clinging to Sophie. “This is Reverend Poole.”
Reinhold drove the wagon until he was next to his visitor. As he rolled to a halt, he glanced between the reverend and Sophie, noting the tension in the air. He didn’t know what had transpired since the reverend’s arrival, but Reinhold’s muscles became taut with the need to defend Sophie.
“Reverend Poole,” Sophie said to their visitor. “This is my husband, Reinhold Weiss.”
Reinhold knew he shouldn’t savor Sophie calling him her husband, but he liked feeling that he belonged with her, even if only temporarily. He nodded curtly at the reverend. “We just received your telegram yesterday.” Had it only been last evening when Sophie had come out to the field with the telegram and then stayed to help with the potatoes? It seemed as though it had been so much longer than that.
“I sent it several days ago before leaving Quincy,” the reverend said. “I arrived in Mayfield this morning and thought I’d attend to the matter right away.”
Reinhold hoisted himself from the wagon, his joints aching like those of an old man. As his feet touched the ground, a draft of fresh weariness blew against him.
“The reverend has brought us Olivia,” Sophie said, cradling the child and pressing a kiss to her head. “But he said we can’t have Nicholas.”
Reinhold couldn’t see Olivia’s features, but in the years since he’d last seen her, she’d doubled in size and her brown hair had grown darker and longer. She’d been just an infant and now was a mature-looking girl, albeit still small in stature.
From the way she’d burrowed her face into Sophie’s neck, he sensed her timidity and fear. He approached cautiously, digging into his pocket beyond his watch. He found the sugarcoated lumps at the bottom and pulled them out.
He’d splurged on the gumdrops for Sophie, remembering back to the days in Kleindeutschland when he’d occasionally bought candy for the Neumann sisters and Olivia and Nicholas, wanting to give them small moments of pleasure amidst the sadness of all their losses.
He hadn’t been able to afford the candy then any more than he had today. Yet the sacrifice had always been worth it. He’d loved the way Sophie had giggled at his teasing and looked up at him with adoring eyes when he’d finally put the gumdrop in her outstretched hand.
Today he’d hoped the gumdrops would ease the sting of the news he had to deliver and remind her of the long past connection he had with both her and her sisters.
But for now, maybe the piece of candy would soothe Olivia’s fear and assure her that life would be sweeter from now on—especially once Elise and Marrianne arrived and took Olivia and Sophie into their care.
“Do you remember me, Olivia?” he asked softly. “I used to give you these.”
Sophie’s eyes lit appreciatively at
the sight of the gumdrops, and she smiled at him with both encouragement and approval.
Olivia tightened her hold around Sophie’s neck.
Reinhold moved his hand closer, revealing the gumdrops. “You used to love them.”
Olivia didn’t move for a few seconds, then finally she shifted and peeked at Reinhold’s hand. At the sight of the colorful mix of candy, she lifted her head from Sophie’s neck and looked at Reinhold.
The little girl’s face was thin, delicate, and plain, certainly not a face that would stand out in a crowd the way that Sophie’s would. But her eyes rounded with recognition and interest.
He smiled and held the candy out further. “Which one is your favorite color?”
After studying the assortment, she chose a red one. She popped it into her mouth and then buried her face into Sophie’s neck again.
“What do you say to Reinhold?” Sophie gently admonished the girl.
“Thank you” came Olivia’s muffled response.
Sophie’s eyes met his, and once more they filled with approval, an approval that sank into him and settled deep in his bones.
“The rest are for you,” he said and held out the candy to her.
“For me?” Her smile widened into one of genuine delight.
He nodded and placed them into her outstretched hand.
Her fingers closed around the gumdrops. “You shouldn’t have . . .” Her lashes lowered against flushed cheeks.
“I wanted to.” Suddenly he wished he could bring home candy to her every time he returned from town. He’d put a piece into her mouth himself, graze her full lips, maybe even kiss the sugar off them, and then stand back and watch the pleasure ripple across her face as she tasted the treat.
A loud clearing of the throat drew his attention away from Sophie, making him realize he’d been staring at her lips. He stepped back rapidly and tried to clear his head through the haze of desire and exhaustion.
“I can see that yours is a happy union,” Reverend Poole said and then cleared his throat again. “It would appear that your love for each other bloomed rather quickly, unless the love is a remnant from your previous friendship?”
The flush in Sophie’s cheeks deepened.
Reinhold knew he ought to contradict the reverend. He and Sophie had never professed to love each other. Theirs was a marriage of convenience, a marriage that would soon be ending. But somehow he sensed such a revelation wouldn’t impress the reverend, would perhaps work against Sophie’s efforts to gain and keep the children.
For now, he needed to maintain the appearance of a loving husband.
“Sophie is easy to love.” He didn’t mean to look at her as he said the words, especially to meet her gaze. But he did. And he was surprised to see love shining in her eyes.
Did she love him? The possibility heated him instantly. If they’d been alone, if she hadn’t been holding Olivia, he would have spanned the distance separating them and brought his mouth down on hers.
As if realizing his intentions, her sights dropped to his mouth.
The reverend coughed this time. “It’s lovely to see you’re getting along so well. Naturally I assumed that such a quick wedding meant that Sophie . . . well, was in trouble.”
“Of course not, Reverend,” Sophie stammered in mortification.
It took another second for Reinhold to grasp the meaning of the reverend’s insinuation. Did Reverend Poole assume they’d had to get married because Sophie was pregnant?
At the insult to Sophie, anger kicked against Reinhold’s ribs like a mule against a fence post. He took a step toward the reverend, his fingers balling into fists. He’d never hit a man of God, but he was sure tempted.
Sophie’s hand on his arm halted him. “Reinhold’s the most honorable person I know, Reverend. The truth is, we got married so we could provide a good and loving home for Nicholas and Olivia.”
For a few seconds, Reverend Poole didn’t speak. Instead, he studied Sophie, then turned his attention first to the house and then to the barn. His eyes were bigger than copper pennies behind his spectacles, taking everything in. Reinhold was afraid the man would find fault with some detail, perhaps realize how little Reinhold had, discover how much debt he still owed, or learn about the monster that lived inside him.
He doubted the man realized Sophie’s connection to Marianne and Drew Brady, his fellow placing agents. Otherwise he likely would have raised more questions regarding their marriage, perhaps would have snatched up Sophie and Olivia and driven them away.
The pressure in Reinhold’s lungs built as the reverend finished his inspection. When the man turned his attention back to Reinhold and gave a friendly nod, Reinhold exhaled.
“You’ve got a nice place here, Mr. Weiss.”
“It’s small but coming along.”
“From what I’ve seen so far, I’m convinced you’ll provide well for Sophie and Olivia.”
“And Nicholas,” he added.
“Nicholas is staying with the Ramseys.” Reverend Poole adjusted his tall black hat as though readying himself to leave.
“We’d like him to be here with us,” Reinhold insisted.
Sophie’s soft body pressed against his side, her icy fingers gripping him tightly.
He slipped an arm around her waist, bracing her in the crook of his body. Her presence seemed so fitting, and holding her was as natural to him as breathing.
“I already explained to Sophie the nature of the placement and that I’m not at liberty to take Nicholas away from the Ramseys.”
“He belongs with his sister and Sophie.”
The reverend looked Reinhold in the eye. “I understand that everyone would like to be together. But I talked at length with Mr. Ramsey this morning, and he’s quite determined to keep the boy. No amount of discourse could persuade him otherwise.”
Something in the reverend’s expression told Reinhold that he’d done his best to honor their request to have both the children. But he’d failed just as they had.
“Is there anything more that can be done?” Reinhold asked. “Anyone else we can contact regarding the placement and gaining custody of the boy?”
“I’m afraid we may not be able to do much,” Reverend Poole said. “As long as Nicholas doesn’t have any family to come forward to claim him, and as long as the Ramseys are taking good care of him, then we have no cause to take him away.”
“But I am his family,” Sophie said.
“Primary relatives,” the reverend clarified, “particularly a father or mother.”
Sophie started to argue, but Reinhold stopped her with a gentle squeeze. When she looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears. “What are we going to do?”
“We’ll figure out something, Soph.” Reinhold spoke with more confidence than he felt. “There has to be something we can do.” He just prayed he was telling her the truth, that they would find a way to get Nicholas, and that it would be soon.
Chapter 21
Reinhold sifted through the potatoes he’d laid out on the hay. Some had gotten wet in their frantic efforts to get them dug and into the barn. And now they needed drying before he could take them to the market.
The barn door opened, and a burst of cold night air entered.
Reinhold didn’t glance behind him, guessing Jakob had finally returned from the Duffs’ after fishing and hunting with Fergus and Alastair on a rare day off from working the fields. He couldn’t begrudge the boy a day to be with his friends—something Reinhold hadn’t been able to do at that age. By the time he was fifteen, he’d already been working long hours in construction so he could support his mother and siblings. He’d taken over the job of providing for his family after his father had landed in jail, and he’d been doing it ever since.
Soon he’d have Silke and Verina in his care. He’d told Elise and Marianne they could bring his sisters when they came. In addition to asking them to bring the girls, he’d let them know he’d found Sophie and that she was in Mayfield with him. He hadn�
��t mentioned they were married. He reassured himself that small detail wasn’t important, that he’d figure out a way to break the news once they arrived. He’d inform them of his plans to move forward with the annulment as soon as possible.
“Reinhold?” Sophie’s voice startled him and made his heart speed with the desire he’d been fighting all day. He couldn’t deny he enjoyed being around her. It didn’t matter what they were doing or where they were, he liked having her near.
He started to step out of the shadows of the stall but then stopped. As much as he wanted to be with her, to see her, to hear her voice, he hadn’t yet told her about sending the telegram. He’d considered waiting until the end of the week and letting Elise and Marianne ride out to surprise Sophie. But with the way news traveled around the community, Sophie would likely hear about his telegram from someone before too long.
“Are you already asleep?” she asked, coming into the barn farther, so that the lantern he’d hung from the rafter shone down on her. Even with her splattered apron still tied over her skirt and the wisps of hair that had come loose from her long braid, her beauty was stunning and never failed to amaze him.
Maybe he could put off telling her about the telegram until tomorrow. Tonight they were both tired from the previous night’s work as well as the long day.
He moved out of the stall. At the soft crackling of hay beneath his feet, she turned his direction and then smiled.
“How’s Olivia?” he asked.
“She’s finally asleep.”
Olivia had been silent and teary-eyed the rest of the day after Reverend Poole left. She’d eaten very little and was listless, clinging to Sophie almost constantly.
Sophie began to move toward him. Thankfully the maze of drying potatoes slowed her down and gave him time to stuff both hands into his pockets so that he didn’t reach for her the way he wanted to. “You don’t think Jakob will mind giving up his room for Olivia?”
“He’ll be fine out here with me.”
Sophie nodded reluctantly. “Maybe eventually we can use the front room as a bedroom too.”
