Page 59 of Willing to Wed the Rancher
No goodbye? She couldn’t imagine not hugging and kissing the children one last time. But perhaps Franz was right. If the children pleaded with her again to come with them, would she be able to say no to them?
She’d been able to speak the word to Franz, but she wasn’t sure if she could do it again this morning, especially if they started crying.
She nodded.
With a final long look, Franz took her in as though memorizing her features. Then he released the post and walked away. He didn’t look back, even though she wanted him to—even when he disappeared through the barn doors.
21
Franz’s heart wrenched into more broken pieces as the wagon rolled farther from the farm. The children sat mutely in the wagon bed. Neither had spoken a word since they’d left.
He’d hardly been able to utter anything either since he’d walked out of the barn and away from Clarabelle.
But he’d forced one foot in front of the other until he’d reached the cabin. When he’d stepped inside, he’d closed the door and wrestled against the overwhelming urge to fling it open and race back to her.
The children had been sitting at the table, eating their breakfast and blissfully unaware of the turmoil that had been gathering. They’d been chattering happily about the prospects that awaited them in Germany and had peppered him with questions about their new home and life.
He’d answered as best he could as he’d leaned against the door. And when he’d finally heard Clarabelle passing down the lane on her horse, he’d gripped the door handle until his fingers had ached.
Finally, when he could hold himself back no longer, he’d stepped outside to shout at her, to beg her not to leave, to plead with her to go with them, but she was already halfway down the lane.
Thankfully, she hadn’t looked back. Because if she had, he probably wouldn’t have stopped himself from running after her. As it was, he’d only stood mutely on the stoop, until the childrenhad joined him, still excited and still unaware that Clarabelle wouldn’t be their Mutti any longer.
He’d gathered the courage to tell them only after he’d loaded the trunk with their belongings into the back of the wagon and helped them up beside it. Only then had he let them know that Clarabelle was already gone, and he’d given them no time to protest—had instead climbed onto the wagon bench and started toward town.
During the silent ride, he’d composed a letter in his mind to Clarabelle, reiterating his love for her, letting her know she would always be a part of him, that he’d never love another woman again.
He also wanted to ask her not to live on Eric’s farm by herself. Even if the counterfeiters might not specifically target her, he would feel better if she returned to her family’s ranch and sold Eric’s place. He couldn’t even think of the possibility that she would find someone else to marry, someone who would be willing to stay there and help her manage it.
Just the prospect sent his thoughts into a dark tunnel that he knew he couldn’t venture down—not now that the children were his priority and his sole responsibility.
As he directed the wagon down the grassy path toward the cemetery, he tried to rein in his despondency. After the children had lost their father and mother and sister, the loss of Clarabelle would likely be another difficult adjustment. He had to stay strong for them, even though he wanted to shout and scream at the unfairness of everything.
He’d come this far and found Clarabelle, a treasure beyond anything he could have imagined. Now the idea of riding out of town on the stagecoach without her made him almost physically sick.
“Gott in heaven above,” he whispered, “have mercy on my poor soul.” If there was any way to be together with Clarabelle, he needed to find it.
As he brought the wagon to a halt in front of the cemetery gate, he pressed a hand to his aching heart.
“What are we doing here, Uncle Franz?” Dieter had risen and was peering at the graveyard.
“We’ve come to say goodbye to your parents.” Even though they didn’t have much time before the stagecoach left town, Franz needed to stop, not only for himself but for the children. This might be the last time they would ever be able to do this.
Mr. Bliss was planning to arrest Mr. Grover but had agreed to wait until they were gone on the stagecoach. He’d said that he couldn’t delay another day; it would be too risky. He couldn’t chance Mr. Grover or anyone else seeing him and having the time to escape or hide the presses and other tools.
The element of surprise was vitally important. In fact, Mr. Bliss had indicated even Franz’s leaving town with his family could raise suspicions and put the counterfeiters on alert. Mr. Bliss had warned Franz to be extra watchful, even on the stagecoach—that he probably wouldn’t be truly safe until he was well out of Colorado.
Franz helped the children out of the wagon and together they entered the cemetery. As he passed by the headstones with Clarabelle’s parents’ names, he paused. The area was clean, the weeds pulled, a handful of wilted flowers on the freshly dug gravesite—probably from Clarabelle.
She stopped by from time to time to try to connect with her mother in some small way. Maybe that was another reason she’d never want to leave America—because she had too many ties to the place and the land. He couldn’t blame her and wasn’t angry at her for choosing her life here over a life with him. But it still hurt.
He could only pray she would find happiness and peace. That’s all he truly wanted for her.
With a sigh, he moved on and followed the children to the section where their family was buried. Three gravestones marked the spots for Eric, Luisa, and their little sister Amalie. Franz reached for Dieter’s and Bianca’s hands, and together they stood side by side.
Eric’s last words echoed through Franz’s mind.“I never meant to fall in love with her. I tried not to. But now she is my life and all that matters to me. I know that is difficult to understand, but I pray someday you will.”
At the time, Franz had thought Eric was giving him another excuse to justify stealing Luisa from him. After meeting Clarabelle, he could finally understand the love Eric had had for Luisa.
