Page 62 of Willing to Wed the Rancher
Was that true?
He nodded as if to confirm it. “This is one time when you need to stop worrying about what she thinks. She’ll eventually adjust and realize she can’t always have her way.”
Clementine began to walk toward the barn, swinging a basket by her side—probably filled with candy to refill her supplies at the store. She lifted her face to the sun, letting the rays add more freckles to her face. A pretty smile curved her lips up.
Was her brother right? Would Clementine soon forget all about the fight? But what if she didn’t? What if she held on to a grudge like Franz had done with Eric for all those years?
Clarabelle wasn’t sure she could live with that. But what was worse? Living without Clementine, or living without Franz?
Maybe it was time that she took to heart her own counsel and made Franz a priority over everyone else, even over Clementine. Because the fact was, she loved Franz, and the thought of life without him in it was becoming more depressing with every passing moment.
He was everything she’d ever wanted in a man. Everything. He was passionate and romantic. And he treated her so well, so tenderly, so sweetly all the time. She wanted to be with him and talk to him and share life with him. No one else would ever compare to him.
He was the kind of man a woman met once in a lifetime, and if she let him go now, she’d lose the best thing that had ever happened to her.
With an urgency rising swiftly inside, she jumped down from the fence post. “I have to go after him.”
“Thatagirl.” Maverick’s brows rose in question. “Where is he going?”
“Mr. Bliss told him he’d be safest to return to Germany.”
Maverick’s smile completely faded as the words sank in. “He wants to take you back with him to Germany?”
She nodded, suddenly anxious to go inside and pack her bag and race after Franz. Did she still have time to make it to town before the stagecoach left?
“Move to Germany?” Maverick’s tone turned suddenly hard. “There’s no need to be drastic about things. We’ll make sure you’re safe here.”
A dozen excuses floated to the tip of Clarabelle’s tongue—all the usual tactics she’d ever used to placate and not upset anyone. But she knew, as she’d done with Franz, that she had to get better at saying just one word.
She swallowed all her trepidation and all her excuses. And she pushed out the word. “No.”
Maverick paused in rattling off the ways that he and the other neighbors could ensure their safety, and he stared at her, his mouth open.
Clearly, he wasn’t used to hearing her use that word either.
“No.” She said it louder this time and more firmly. “If Franz will still have me, I’m going to live in Germany with him.”
Maverick’s objections flashed in his eyes. Germany was too far away. She hadn’t known Franz that long. She was still so young.
Ultimately, none of it mattered. Not when she’d found the person who was made just for her, a perfect fit.
“I need to go pack.” She began to cross the paddock toward the barn door. “And then I have a stagecoach to catch.”
23
What did a woman moving across the ocean bring with her when she would likely never return?
Clarabelle stuffed the last of her clothing and shoes into the largest canvas bag she’d been able to unearth among her ma’s old belongings. She’d also included several of her favorite books, a few mementos and pictures of her family, and some items that had belonged to her ma.
She still had important clothing at the farm and some toiletries. That meant she would have to waste time stopping there on her way into town. But it couldn’t be helped.
As she hefted the bag and tried to wrangle the strap over her shoulder, the thudding of horse hooves resounded out the open bedroom window. The pounding had an urgency that set her on edge.
What if something had gone wrong with exposing the counterfeit operation? And what if the crooks had gone after Franz and the children? Maybe one of them had been hurt.
With her heart slamming against her ribs, Clarabelle crossed to the window, pushed the curtains aside, and peered out at the grassy yard that stood between the house and the barns. A single rider on a horse—a tall man with brown hair and a short, trimmed beard, along with broad shoulders and a body that always looked like it had been hewn from rock.
Ryder. Her adopted brother.
