poor-man’s country, even the birds must scavenge for their food.
If only he’d never had to leave his homeland . . .
Familiar despair settled heavily within his chest—the same despair that had plagued him since he’d first received news of the bombing at the duke’s palace.
He reached a hand for the back of his neck and massaged his aching muscles. For the thousandth time that morning he couldn’t keep from asking himself what he was doing here. What had made him believe he could ever carry out this kind of charade?
If he couldn’t fool Uri, how could he fool Annalisa? Wouldn’t they all figure out who he was eventually?
Across the distance, Annalisa turned from Gretchen and peered at him.
He gave her a nod.
She ducked her head, apparently embarrassed to have been caught looking at him.
Her shy innocence stirred warmth in his gut and made him only want to look at her all the more.
She wiped her hands on her apron and began to make her way across the garden. Gretchen and the puppy followed on her heels.
When she chanced another glance at him, he couldn’t makehimself look away. He stared at her boldly, and once again she quickly tilted her face away from him. His blood swirled a degree warmer. He willed her to look up, to meet his gaze, to let him have his fill of admiring her sweet beauty.
But she picked up her basket at the edge of the garden and started toward him, doing her best to keep her eyes trained on each footstep as she made her way through slushy snow around the field.
“You’re very kind to her,” Uri said, glancing between them, as if trying to make sense of what was going on.
“It’s not hard to be kind to someone like her,” Carl said.
Uri stared at Annalisa for a long moment before speaking. “I’ll help you.”
“You’ll show me how to make the horses go straight?” He offered the boy a half grin.
Uri didn’t grin in response. Instead he lowered his gun and pointed it at Carl. “I’ll help you. But if you hurt Annalisa, you’ll wish you’d never come here.”
Carl’s grin spread. “You don’t need to worry. I promise I won’t hurt her.”
At Annalisa’s approach, Uri’s expression softened and he lowered the gun.
She stopped before them, looking everywhere but at Carl. Gretchen’s chatter and the puppy’s excited yips filled the silence between them.
“I shot these for you.” Uri dropped the squirrels at Annalisa’s feet. The pup immediately stuck his nose into one of the stiff carcasses. Uri booted the dog and sent it scampering with a yelp.
Gretchen gave a cry of protest.
“You need to train your dog,” Uri admonished the girl.
Annalisa grabbed the squirrels before Snowdrop could investigate further and tossed them by their tails over her shoulderas if flinging around dead squirrels was an everyday occurrence. Then she slid a towel off the basket, lifted out a jug, and handed it to Carl.
Too tired and thirsty to resist, he raised it to his parched lips. The cool well water was a blessed relief. After guzzling more than his fair share, he passed the jug to Uri.
Carl nodded at Annalisa and wiped his arm across his mouth. “Thank you.”
She held out two thick slices of brown bread with a piece of cheese wedged between. “For your midday meal.”
Gratefulness swelled in his chest. “You’re an angel.”
Pink blossomed in her cheeks.
He took a ravenous bite and was surprised that something so simple could be so tasty. “It’s very good. Just what I needed.”
At his words she lifted her head almost as if she couldn’t resist looking at him anymore. In the sunshine, her eyes reflected the clear blue sky overhead. Wonder mingled with a thousand questions in the wide expanse of her gaze.
Did she sense he wasn’t who he claimed to be? Was she wondering—like Uri—why he was so weak and a complete imbecile in farming matters?
He took another bite of the bread and cheese and glanced away, to the far fields that were still dotted with
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