was going to have to let the animal air it out. Theo would be fine for a few minutes on his own.
"What will happen if the Russians get here?"
"The Russians won't get here," she said reflexively. She wasn't sure she believed this, but she could hear the fear in her little brother's voice and felt the need to reassure him.
"But how do you know? How can you be so sure?"
Anna watched the pony, more plump than was probably healthy, snitch at a clump of high grass.
"I guess I don't know. Not for certain. But . . ."
"Tell me."
"Well, it's one thing for them to take back the land we had conquered. It's quite another to take our land from us. Just imagine how fiercely Werner would be fighting if he were defending this country right here."
Theo nodded and seemed to be taking this in. Then: "They might take Father, you know."
For a moment Anna wasn't sure who they were. Did Theo mean the Russians? She must have looked puzzled, because Theo continued, "The army. Maybe the Volkssturm, but maybe the Wehrmacht."
"Father? He's already done his duty--and that was a very long time ago. He's . . . old," she said, and as that last word formed on her lips she couldn't help but smile in bemusement. Their father? In the army? He was strong and disciplined and smart, but these days he was a businessman and farmer. He ran the estate. She couldn't see him enduring the sorts of misery that had seemed to dog Werner. She didn't see why he should have to. "Why would you ever think such a thing?" she added.
"Yesterday I heard Mutti and Basha talking."
"About Father leaving for the army?"
"Yes!"
She felt Balga once more straining beneath her and motioned to Theo that they needed to keep moving. When they reached the drier land on the far side of the marsh they began to trot, and over the sound of the horses' hooves she called back to her brother, "I'm sure if they did take him, it would just be for desk work. Right here, maybe. Or in Kulm. But he wouldn't be fighting like Werner."
"Or Helmut soon," Theo muttered.
"Yes."
"But if Father does leave, there will hardly be any grownup men left here at all. And that means I . . ."
"Go on."
"It means I would have to be the man of the house. And I'm not ready for that. I know I'm not."
"Oh, Theo, sweetie, you don't have to worry about such things!" she told him, working hard to suppress a small smile so he wouldn't think she was laughing at his expense when all she was feeling was affection for him. To her relief, he was still young enough to allow his vulnerabilities and his fears a small voice. All the other males-- even the boys Theo's age--were already growing into blustering strongmen. Powerful Aryans who didn't dare admit to anyone that they just might be scared. "Everyone loves you as you are," she went on. "No one expects you suddenly to be older than ten."
"But I could be if I had to be. Don't you think so?"
"Of course I think so."
"I just don't want to if I don't have to."
"No, I agree. Who would? Besides, there will always be the prisoners," she said, only half-serious, hoping to get a small laugh out of Theo.
Instead, however, her brother told her in a voice that was completely earnest, "No, they're leaving the day after tomorrow. I heard Father on the phone yesterday!"
Instantly she pulled her horse to a stop and turned to face the boy. "What?"
"They're being sent back to their prison camp."
"No, that's not possible--"
"Yes, it is possible," he said, his tone growing defensive because she hadn't believed him. "Even . . ."
"Tell me!"
"Even your boyfriend, Callum! I'm telling you, they're all going to be taken away!"
If she hadn't needed both hands on the leather reins, she thought she might have slapped him for that remark about the Scotsman. She'd never hit her brother before, but there was always a first time. "He's not my boyfriend," she said simply, allowing a little sharpness into her tone.
Theo looked away. He didn't believe her, but clearly he had no plans to argue
"What will happen if the Russians get here?"
"The Russians won't get here," she said reflexively. She wasn't sure she believed this, but she could hear the fear in her little brother's voice and felt the need to reassure him.
"But how do you know? How can you be so sure?"
Anna watched the pony, more plump than was probably healthy, snitch at a clump of high grass.
"I guess I don't know. Not for certain. But . . ."
"Tell me."
"Well, it's one thing for them to take back the land we had conquered. It's quite another to take our land from us. Just imagine how fiercely Werner would be fighting if he were defending this country right here."
Theo nodded and seemed to be taking this in. Then: "They might take Father, you know."
For a moment Anna wasn't sure who they were. Did Theo mean the Russians? She must have looked puzzled, because Theo continued, "The army. Maybe the Volkssturm, but maybe the Wehrmacht."
"Father? He's already done his duty--and that was a very long time ago. He's . . . old," she said, and as that last word formed on her lips she couldn't help but smile in bemusement. Their father? In the army? He was strong and disciplined and smart, but these days he was a businessman and farmer. He ran the estate. She couldn't see him enduring the sorts of misery that had seemed to dog Werner. She didn't see why he should have to. "Why would you ever think such a thing?" she added.
"Yesterday I heard Mutti and Basha talking."
"About Father leaving for the army?"
"Yes!"
She felt Balga once more straining beneath her and motioned to Theo that they needed to keep moving. When they reached the drier land on the far side of the marsh they began to trot, and over the sound of the horses' hooves she called back to her brother, "I'm sure if they did take him, it would just be for desk work. Right here, maybe. Or in Kulm. But he wouldn't be fighting like Werner."
"Or Helmut soon," Theo muttered.
"Yes."
"But if Father does leave, there will hardly be any grownup men left here at all. And that means I . . ."
"Go on."
"It means I would have to be the man of the house. And I'm not ready for that. I know I'm not."
"Oh, Theo, sweetie, you don't have to worry about such things!" she told him, working hard to suppress a small smile so he wouldn't think she was laughing at his expense when all she was feeling was affection for him. To her relief, he was still young enough to allow his vulnerabilities and his fears a small voice. All the other males-- even the boys Theo's age--were already growing into blustering strongmen. Powerful Aryans who didn't dare admit to anyone that they just might be scared. "Everyone loves you as you are," she went on. "No one expects you suddenly to be older than ten."
"But I could be if I had to be. Don't you think so?"
"Of course I think so."
"I just don't want to if I don't have to."
"No, I agree. Who would? Besides, there will always be the prisoners," she said, only half-serious, hoping to get a small laugh out of Theo.
Instead, however, her brother told her in a voice that was completely earnest, "No, they're leaving the day after tomorrow. I heard Father on the phone yesterday!"
Instantly she pulled her horse to a stop and turned to face the boy. "What?"
"They're being sent back to their prison camp."
"No, that's not possible--"
"Yes, it is possible," he said, his tone growing defensive because she hadn't believed him. "Even . . ."
"Tell me!"
"Even your boyfriend, Callum! I'm telling you, they're all going to be taken away!"
If she hadn't needed both hands on the leather reins, she thought she might have slapped him for that remark about the Scotsman. She'd never hit her brother before, but there was always a first time. "He's not my boyfriend," she said simply, allowing a little sharpness into her tone.
Theo looked away. He didn't believe her, but clearly he had no plans to argue
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