Chapter Twenty-seven

Breisgau-hochschwarzwald, Germany

The wind streaming from the mountaintops tossed the scent of fir through the air, a far cry from the shoreline they had traveled along for years. The spring of 1895 was cold, but oddly Erik didn’t feel chilled. The years they had spent attempting to stay in France were not content, and by the time they chose to flee to the German border, the manhunt for them was a second shadow. The countryside of Germany was no kinder than France until a poor village nestled in the Black Forest presented an opportunity for respite.

Silence and peaceful solitude are what these months here had given him. Before the sanctuary of the Black Forest, they had fled another assault of greedy farmers, the unlikely army of Chagny. Anger filled him at the thought of Loup and the house he served, and he willed the names of the Raoul and Christine away.

Erik scowled at the chattering that disturbed his train of thought. The village doctor gestured excitedly around the courtyard like a bee on a sugar high while the Brother nodded and listened patiently to the doctor’s case. Erik scanned the grounds. No doubt the spot would be appropriate for a garden for Anna. Any number of herbs could be grown with the combination of sun and shade. Such a gift would be well received and far less complicated than the other gift that came attached with it—indefinite asylum with the promise his identity would remain safeguarded.

It had been a month since the sickness waned. They had stumbled upon the village in the dead of night and despite the weak and poor soul warning them away with a lantern and loaded rifle; Erik, Anna, and Pappy had elected to stay. Erik’s skills had saved the poverty-stricken village from illness and a humble monastery from ruin. The experience quite possibly saved a part of Erik’s jaded soul as well. Here he chose to repay his Samaritans. Here, it seemed, his past was forgiven.

But they couldn’t stay. No matter how much Erik wanted to give the boy skipping stones across the pond a home and a solid life, Erik wouldn’t risk putting villagers and simple men of the cloth at risk because of his past. Somberly, he turned to Anna.

“There have been too many times you have told me that,” he finally sighed. “Too many times, you have told me you were pregnant only to watch you bleed throughout them.”

He shook his head and shoved at the air between them. Erik couldn’t bear to have Anna lose another one of their children. Another one of their perfect, perfect children. Not a single time had she carried successfully since the birth of Philippe.

“Please, Anna, this is another false hope that will end with my hands digging another grave.” Agony seeped into his voice. He stared down at his fingers recalling the dirt and tears that had chafed them. “Do not make me dig another.”

Anna stepped into his sagging posture. “Erik, the doctor says I’m fine. He feels the reason we lost our other children was that of the stress of running. But we’re here now. He’ll care for me—as will the Brothers. They desire to do this. They see the good in you as do I. Please? We need a home.”

“Do not make me risk an entire village because of my sins too!” Erik shouted. “The deaths of my children are more than enough.”

The penetrating gaze of her blue eyes was too much to take. He wandered away from their assault and stared at the two men in the distance.

The Brother Lukas smiled and calmly endured the doctor’s animated gestures. Erik overheard talk of various herbs used in medicine. Brother Lukas occasionally glanced toward him, his peaceful expression matching the mentality of his simple, poor flock. Why this man of God forgave him his transgressions, Erik knew not.

He paced, realizing as he did, that for the first time a wool cloak didn’t brush his ankles and a cowl didn’t weigh down his shoulders. He waved his hand absently over his mask recalling several days when he had not worn it at all.

Anna had wrapped her arms around herself in a hug and was watching Philippe and Pappy enjoy a game of tag. The fading sun played in her hair, and her face was lit up with hope just as bright. His lips parted. A gentle sigh escaped.

“What day is it?” he asked, walking toward her.

“Sunday.”

Erik circled her, watching as the sun hit parts of her hair. He lightly dragged his hand around her shoulders. “Sunday?”

He blinked the disbelief out of his eyes. It was a Sunday and this woman, though not named so by the church, the one he would call in his heart his wife. They were out, amongst villagers like ordinary people. He never thought his dreams of taking his wife out on Sundays would include the results of her love. Erik stopped circling and raked his long fingers down the length of her hair. “Are you truly with child again?”

Anna’s smile reached her ears.

“And the doctor will watch you?”

Anna smiled more and nodded her head so fast Erik swore it would bob off. He tore off his mask to swipe at his eyes. He pressed his palms to them and tipped his head back. The warm rays of the sun beat through his fingers and even though his palms blocked out the light, what he saw was blinding. Erik grabbed her and caged her in a protective embrace he swore she would always have. For the first time in a long while, a manhunt faded away, and all that mattered was a lifetime of Sundays. Gently, he lifted her until her feet no longer touched the ground and the eyes he always lost himself in were level with his. He purled his thanks into her ear over and over again and sought her lips to affirm that all this was real. After so many years his other blessing was finally on its way. If it skipped any more, Erik’s heart would dance from his chest.

This, was happiness.

He smiled against Anna’s lips as he kissed her, not caring that his mask slipped from his grasp to the ground at his feet. When he broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to hers, all the joy in the world wrapped around them with his words.

“We are home, Anna. We have a home.”