Page 29 of Willing to Wed the Rancher
Clarabelle couldn’t stop smiling. She felt like a child again, having cast off the weight of all her responsibilities and frustrations, even if only for a short while.
And it was all because of Franz.
She was crouched beside the children along the creek bank near the simple plank bridge Eric had apparently constructed long ago. As much as Franz was trying to fit underneath, his legs still stuck part of the way out.
“Who’s crossing first?” Dieter asked from beside Clarabelle.
“Maybe I should,” she offered, unable to stifle the thrill of acting out the old tales that Franz loved to tell the children. She was glad now that she’d agreed to accompany the children and Franz on one of his learning adventures for the afternoon.
She really hadn’t had much choice, considering how eager and adamant everyone had been to have her join in the adventure.
The outing had helped to distract her just a little from her brooding over the fact that today was Friday and that Franz was scheduled to call upon Clementine that evening.
Clementine had been excited about it all week. As happy as Clarabelle had wanted to be for her sister, she’d only grown more morose as the week progressed. The truth was, she didn’t want Franz to go to dinner with Clementine, and she’d been holding out hope he would cancel.
But it had grown too late for that, and all morning she’d been trying to resign herself to the prospect that Franz would fall inlove with Clementine. It would happen in just one evening with how irresistible Clementine was.
After wallowing in frustration long enough, Clarabelle had given in to the children’s and Franz’s request to join them. She’d packed a simple picnic lunch, and they’d hiked out to the edge of the far hay field that bordered the woods.
She’d spread out a blanket and their fare of hard-boiled eggs, sliced ham, and bread she’d baked the day before. All the while they’d eaten, Franz had regaled them with stories.
When finished, he’d asked the children which stories they wanted to act out, and they’d chosen the tale of Aladdin first, then the story of the three little pigs. Now they were pretending that Franz was a troll who lived under a bridge, and they were three goats needing to cross over.
“We have no grass here.” Clarabelle looked around at the rocky area near them. The forest floor was covered in old pine needles and some brush.
“So we need to cross to the field?” Bianca poked her head up to peer across the creek to the hay field nearby, where they’d left their blanket and the remainder of their lunch.
“Yes, we have to go.”
Dieter nodded gravely. “If we stay, we’ll die.”
“I don’t want to die.” Bianca’s eyes welled with sudden tears.
Clarabelle wrapped an arm around the little girl and squeezed her. “Remember, we’re only pretending, sweetie.”
She nodded and gave a wobbly smile.
Dieter was frowning and eyeing Franz’s legs as if they really did belong to a troll. “We should find something to give the troll. If we each give him a gift, maybe he’ll let us pass.”
“I like that idea.” Clarabelle was truly amazed at the creativity of Franz’s methods of teaching the children. Not only was he developing in them a love of literature with hisstorytelling, but he was fostering problem-solving skills and logic.
Dieter glanced around as though looking for something to barter. “It has to be valuable, or the troll won’t take it.”
“I know!” Bianca whisper-yelled. “I’ll give him my shoes.”
Dieter rolled his eyes. “Why would the troll want your shoes?”
Bianca looked at her shoes, then her skirt and blouse. “It’s all I have, Dieter. What else can I give him?”
Clarabelle’s mind was fast at work, searching for a lesson of her own she could teach the children. After all, she didn’t want Franz to be the only one doing all the instructing.
“I have an idea,” she whispered as she stood. “Wait here.”
The two nodded and poked their heads up higher to watch as she inched toward the bridge of logs. “Hello, Mr. Troll.”
“Who goes there?” Franz replied in a gruff, booming voice.
“It is I, the mama goat, and I would like to request safe passage to the other side of the bridge for my little goats.”
