CHAPTER 5: THE CAPTAIN

After lunch, Maria coaxed the little girls into taking a rest on the wide front porch. The older children scrambled down a rocky slope to the treacherous-looking creek that ran nearby, flourishing fishing poles they'd found in the woodshed. She kept a nervous eye on them, wishing for the placid beauty of the lake in Aigen.

When the woods around them took on the dusty glow of late afternoon, there was still no sign of the Captain. Maria went to get the old guitar and they spent an hour singing together. It was only when their voices faded into the surrounding woods, that she heard the sound pulsing through the air.

CRACK-CRACK-CRACK-CRACK-CRACK-

That was not a rifle shot, Maria told herself uneasily. Not.

"You keep going," she said, handing the guitar to Liesl, "I'll have a look around."

It didn't take Maria very long to follow the sound around back of the cottage, where she found Captain von Trapp just outside the woodshed, swinging an axe in smooth, powerful arcs. When the thick chunk of wood before him lay in fragments on the ground, he stopped to toss them into a growing pile by his side, set another section of tree limb before him, and resumed the vigorous rhythm, filling the air around him with the cracking sound.

"Where have you been, Captain?"

He looked up with an exasperated expression, familiar to Maria from the many times she'd interrupted him in his study in Aigen, except that now he was no longer the picture of immaculate perfection to which she'd been accustomed. Instead, he was nearly as disheveled as he'd been on his arrival the night before. Below his rolled-up sleeves, his arms were smudged with dirt, while the rest of his shirt stuck damply to his chest. A lock of hair had fallen over his forehead, and his face glowed with effort.

"What is it, Fraulein?"

"I said, where have you been? And when are we-"

He stopped and rested the axe by his side, although shoulders still rose and fell with heavy breaths of exertion.

"It's none of your business where I've been, Fraulein." He took in a deep breath and swiped at his forehead with the back of his free hand. "And to answer your other question, we are not."

"Not?"

"Not leaving, if that's what you're anxious to know. Not any time soon. It appears that we're stuck here, for a week at least." His earlier good mood had vanished; now his face was taut with disappointment and anger. "Leo brought word that my arrangements have fallen through, at least for now. I thought I had everything worked out, but certain things are outside of my control."

From deep in her own well of anger and humiliation, Maria felt a spark of sympathy for the man. She briefly considered telling him to think of his favorite things, but decided that might not work for him.

"I'm sorry, Captain. If I can be of any help-" she extended a hand toward him in a gesture of encouragement.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Are you offering to chop wood?"

"I wasn't raised in luxury, Captain," she flared. "You'd be surprised what I can do."

"Go ahead, then," he said, extending the axe to her.

In new and strange surroundings, it seemed, their battle of wills would continue.

With a sigh of resignation, Maria took up the axe. "Move away, now," she cautioned, and he gave her an ironic grin and stepped back. Placing a thick tree branch on the ground before her, she lifted the heavy axe over her head and let loose. Even though she'd made the beginner's mistake of squeezing her eyes closed, she was relieved to open them and find the branch lying in two pieces.

"Very nice," he said approvingly. "But if you keep it up that way, you'll tear your arm from your shoulder before you've chopped enough wood to cook dinner. Don't stick your elbows out so."

She took another swing, and then another, feeling the damp trickle of sweat gather beneath her dress to chill her skin.

"No, no, not like that."

The next thing she knew, Captain von Trapp had come up behind her and reached around with both arms to adjust her grip on the axe. Surrounded by his sharp smell and comforting warmth, Maria forgot her irritation. She forgot nearly everything, in fact.

"Ready?" he asked.

He wrapped his hands around hers and lifted her arms in the air. For a moment, they were back in the garden, with their arms stretched overhead as they moved smoothly together through the Laendler. Then the axe sliced through the wood one more time and he stepped away from her so hastily she nearly fell over.

"That's how it's done," he said briskly, and began to roll down his sleeves.

"Speaking of dinner," Maria said unsteadily, "if we are going to be here after tomorrow, there's not enough food."

"That's impossible," the Captain said flatly, "I had Leo provision the place for a month, just in case. I thought of everything."

"Leo," she retorted, "has apparently forgotten what it's like to be a growing boy. We've eaten all the eggs, and half of the bread, and I haven't even figured supper out. And you're talking about three meals a day for seven more days!"

He sighed and ran a hand through his tousled hair.

"All right. Tomorrow, I'll go – no. You'll go with me. You might as well know how the system works, and this way, you can tell him what you need. We'll leave just after breakfast, before it gets too hot."

OoOoOoOoOo

Although Gretl had never quite learned to swim, she had developed a powerful kick that she took with her into her dreams. As a result, while the little girl slept soundly by her side, Maria hadn't slept well, at all. The Captain, on the other hand, appeared well-rested, even though he'd spent the night in the floor next to the wood stove, wrapped in a quilt. He'd been up early and had already started the fire up for breakfast.

Soon, they had left Liesl in charge and were heading through the woods, past the waterfall. Around them, the damp forest pressed in on every side, while the companionable chirp of insects filled the cool morning air.

A silence hung between the two of them, an uneasy mix of annoyance and awkwardness that was becoming sadly familiar. With everything that had happened between them, Maria was certain that they'd never return to the easy relationship they'd enjoyed over the summer. Well, not easy, exactly, there had always been that spark of – she dragged her thoughts back to the present and fixed her eyes on the Captain's broad back, just ahead of her. They were climbing sharply uphill now, and she turned her attention to navigating the rocky path and keeping her lungs full of air.

"Careful," he said, turning to extend his hand to her as they scrambled over series of small boulders. "There's a clearing ahead where you can rest. It's not much farther now."

"I don't need to rest, Captain. I grew up in the mountains," she said, yanking her hand from his.

He pressed his lips together and turned away, continuing the climb in silence until the path leveled out at a little clearing. There, he seated himself on a fallen tree, stretching his long legs out before him.

"You probably took the long route when you hiked in. This shortcut reaches the road in half the time, but it would have been hard for the younger children to manage," he explained. "Leo will be waiting for us up on the road, unless he thinks things are not safe."

"Safe?"

He ignored her question.

"For as long as we're stuck here, I'll have him drive by around nine, every day, with whatever supplies we require. And news about our arrangements."

"What are those arrangements, anyway?" she asked.

"You don't need to know that," he said brusquely, and then, in a more apologetic tone, "it's for your safety, you know. Yours and the children's. As I've said repeatedly, I know things between us are -" he looked up at the sky as though he might find the right word there, "- difficult, what with the marriage and – ehrm - everything, but I am grateful to you, Fraulein. More than you know. I owe you a great deal."

"You don't owe me anything," Maria said. "You took me in, after all, and I'm just trying to earn my keep." Although the Captain remained seated, she was too restless for that, choosing instead to meander around the clearing. "If we're to be here for the week, they'll need a routine. Some structure. School in the morning, just like always. They can't just play the whole day away."

"Routine? Structure? School?" he laughed. "Is this my – I mean, is this our Fraulein Maria talking?"

"They've been through a great deal, Captain. Ripped from their home, set in strange and uncomfortable circumstances. A little bit of structure can be reassuring." For a moment, her throat ached at the thought of Nonnberg Abbey. When would she see it again?

"Oh, they'll be all right," he said lightly. "They're resilient. But have at them, Fraulein, with all the discipline you can muster. Though I'm not sure how you'll have any lessons, not without books."

"Actually, we have a library full of books," and when he looked puzzled, she explained, "Brigitta brought a dictionary. She thought it would be the most efficient way to carry as many stories as possible with her."

Then they laughed together, and Maria added, "They really have been wonderful. Helpful, cooperative. Hard-working. Kind to each other. You should be proud of them."

"They're just grateful not to be shipped off to boarding school," he scoffed, "and for your return. Although," he hesitated, "they do seem a bit subdued. Marta is so fragile, and Louisa always seems on the verge of an explosion, and Liesl doesn't seem to know if she is a girl or a woman, and neither do I. Friedrich's afraid of me, and don't pretend you don't know it. Bringing them here – well, I hope I've done the right thing-" he trailed off.

In that moment of shared concern for the children, and the glimmer of fear and uncertainty that escaped the Captain's usual invincible façade, Maria felt her heart begin to open in forgiveness.

Everything about the Captain von Trapp she'd known in Aigen was orderly and very nearly mechanical, from the way he looked, nearly ironed into his uniform-like Trachten jackets, to his precise speech and efficient movements. Now, removed from his previous setting, he seemed much less of a mystery, somehow: dressed casually, comfortable in his rough surroundings, gentle and wise with his children, and displaying a novel vulnerability.

"Why do you stare at me that way?" he said.

"I'm not-" she began, and then she was suddenly tired of fighting, all the time. "It's just that, out here, you're different." She struggled to find the words. "You're not so – ehrm – complicated."

"Perhaps you don't know very much about me," he chided her.

"Oh, everyone knows about you. You're an aristocrat. A naval hero. Your father was a naval hero, too, I know that."

"He was. He died when I was four, and my mother raised me and my sister on her own. "

No father, Maria thought. Another reason he'd struggled to find his footing with his children.

"He was the one who earned the title, although he came originally from modest circumstances. The money came from my wife. Although I was the one who turned her modest fortune into something bigger."

Maria started. After an entire summer during which he'd barely been able to acknowledge that the children even had a mother, he had brought the Baroness von Trapp into this forest clearing as though she'd just come by for tea.

"Louisa's just like her, you know," he added casually. "Stubborn, but so charming she's got me wrapped around her finger. I'll have my hands full with her in another few years." It was an offhand remark, full of a parent's pride and mock dismay, but, once again, it was the comfortable presence of his late wife in the conversation that impressed Maria the most.

After one last extremely steep climb, they reached the top of the path. Pushing through the underbrush and out onto to the road, Maria found herself blinking away the bright sunlight. Before them lay a deserted, unpaved road, thick with dust. After nearly two days in the shadowy woods, the wide blue sky above seemed like a blessing. She basked in the sun's welcome heat while the Captain paced nearby, growing more visibly agitated by the moment.

"If he isn't here in another five minutes, he won't be-"

But just then, there was the shuffle of hooves and the jingle of harnesses, and the creak of wheels, and the cart that had brought Maria and the children to the woods appeared from around a curve. The cart was empty except for Leo, who expertly guided the plodding horses with his one good arm. When he drew up close to them, he stopped the horses with a soft cluck and dropped down to the ground in a surprisingly graceful gesture. He didn't acknowledge Maria's presence, but immediately began an animated dialogue with the Captain in rapid Italian. Although she had no hope of understanding, she was so curious about the secret plans for the next part of their journey that she strained to listen.

After a few minutes, the Captain gestured in her direction and, after directing another few remarks to Leo, said, "All right, Fraulein. Tell me what you want him to get."

"Fruit," she said, picturing the mental list she'd compiled. "Beans. Eggs. Sausages. Oh, and some ham or dried beef. Butter, and cheese of course. And jam."

The Captain relayed these requests to Leo, who listened stoically. Maria doubted the little man would remember half her requests.

"If you're asking for jam, you must want bread, Fraulein."

"No, no. Just some flour. We'll make our own bread."

"There is no need to economize," he began, but Maria interrupted him.

"It's a good skill for the girls to learn, and a way to stay busy, Captain. Oh, and because we traveled so light, we'll have to wash some clothes, if he could bring some soap as well?"

He shrugged and turned back to Leo, giving a few more instructions before digging into his pocket and turning over a wad of cash. Then the two men shook hands. Leo hoisted himself up on the wagon, clucked to the horses, and pulled out of sight.

As the cart disappeared around a curve in the road, they turned to begin their trip back to the cottage. The first, steep descent was difficult, and this time, Maria welcomed the Captain's steely grip on her elbow, steadying her on the rough terrain. By now, even in the woods, the sun had filtered in to fill the forest with damp, heavy heat. When they got to the little clearing, she was the one who asked for a moment to rest, seated, on the fallen tree, while it was his turn to pace.

There was a long, peaceful silence. Or at least she'd thought it peaceful until, as though he'd been waiting for her to let her guard down, he pounced.

"Fraulein Maria? I want a truthful answer from you. About the night of the party. I was thinking, and I was wondering – why did you run away to the Abbey?"

Maria shoved her hands into her pockets and repeated the excuse she'd given him ono their wedding day.

"I told you, Captain. The reason no longer exists."

"All right, then," he said evenly, "then let's try a different question." He continued to walk the perimeter of the clearing, each circuit drawing a little more tightly around her. "Why are you so angry at me?"

"I'm not angry," she insisted, but he cut her off.

"Nonsense, Fraulein. You've been furious with me since the moment you came to Reverend Mother's office. Why, you'll barely look me in the eye! I only brought the children there to visit you. I can hardly be blamed for that. As for the arrangement between us, I've made clear how grateful I am to you for it, so why-"

"I could ask you the same question," Maria retorted, "You didn't look any happier about our arrangement than I did."

But he ignored her.

"Never mind, Fraulein. As it happens, I know why you were so angry. And I know why you ran away."

Maria's heart had climbed into her throat, making it difficult for her to push out the words.

"You do?"

"I do. At first, I thought it was because I was unforgivably rude to you that night, at the party, in front of my guests. I made the mistake of thinking that just because you came from Nonnberg Abbey, you were some kind of saint, but of course you have feelings, just like any girl would. You must have resented the way I behaved, as though it was acceptable for me to dance with you when we were safely tucked out of sight, and then brushed you off in public."

He stopped his prowling and fixed her with an intense dark-blue gaze. Maria felt a warm flush creep up her neck to her cheeks. Although he was the one doing the confessing, he was edging closer to a secret truth, one she prayed Baroness Schrader had not told him about and that Maria would rather die than reveal to him: she had been in love with him, even if now, her feelings for him ranged from pity to irritation.

"And I was rude to you, Fraulein. But I was rude to you all summer, isn't that right?" He leaned forward, his voice suddenly, oddly, kind. "So that can't possibly be why you ran away. Can it?"

"It isn't?"

"You ran away because you were confused. Frightened."

"Why would I have been frightened? You were never unkind to me."

"I would never have done you any harm," he agreed. "But I'll let you in on a secret. I was frightened."

"Why would you be frightened of me, Captain?"

"Because, ludicrous as it seemed, I found myself attracted to you. A postulant from Nonnberg Abbey! I was afraid that something might happen between us. What made it so nice was that you felt the same way about me. Don't even try to deny it. I hadn't felt that way in years."

Maria couldn't hold back a snort.

"Don't you believe me?" he frowned.

"Years? More like months or even weeks. Everyone knows you had women, lots of them, before your engagement to Baroness Schrader. Why would I want to be one of them? Especially because you'd have gotten over it soon enough. Men do, you know."

He shot her a surprised look.

"I had no idea you were so worldly, Fraulein."

"You'd be surprised, Captain, what you don't know about me."

He stopped his pacing and looked away from her, out into the distant forest. "But what could I do about it?" he asked, as though pleading with some unseen person. Then his gaze swung back to her.

"What would you have had me do?"

Maria opened her mouth to reply, but no words came out. The moment stretched between them, weighted with tense anticipation.

His eyes narrowed and his voice took on a dangerous edge.

"What did you want me to do? Fraulein," he said ironically, as though trying to maintain a measure of formality between them, even as the air around them grew more charged. "And what would you have done in return? Surely you would not have welcomed my advances."

When the Captain drew closer to where she sat, his mouth crinkled in a surprisingly tender smile.

"Or would you?"

When he extended his hand to her, her heart began to pound until she was sure it would break open her chest.

"Let's find out, shall we?" he whispered.

She was like one of the children's puppets, being pulled to her feet by unseen strings. Maria allowed him to coax her into position, to grasp one of her hands high overhead while gently tugging the other hand behind her back to hold it there. They were back in the garden now. As he guided her into a slow spin, the rustle and buzz of the forest around them faded away, until she almost thought she could hear the Laendler's sweet air on the breeze.

The slow turns grew faster and faster, until the woods whirled dizzily at the edges of her vision. His dark gaze, as fierce and tender as it had been that night in the garden, locked with hers. He was so close that his legs brushed against hers, so close Maria could feel his warm breath on her lips.

"Now," he said huskily. "Where were we?"

The words forced themselves from her dry mouth.

"Are you going to kiss me?"

"Yes. I think I am. Yes."

Now their lips were only a hairs-breadth apart, but she could sense his hesitation.

"Wait. No. I'm not. No. I don't think I can do it after all."

"Why not?"

"Because I'd burn in hell for it."

"But you wouldn't be going there alone, Captain."

Her words broke the spell, somehow, because the next thing Maria knew, he had dropped her hands and stepped away from her. He threw his head back with a roar of laughter.

"Well played, Fraulein. I certainly do not want the eternal damnation of a postulant from Nonnberg Abbey on my conscience. You'll have to find someone else for that."

The Captain was still chuckling when he reached for her hand and led her back onto the path and downhill toward the cabin, easing his hold on her only as they approached the waterfall. This time, Maria was glad for his firm grip, as their encounter had left her reeling.

It was a relief, to have certain things out in the open between them, Maria thought, but with her secret still safe. At most, she had admitted to a flirtation, and despite whatever had happened with their engagement, Baroness Schrader had not betrayed her. He would never know how deeply he'd affected her, or the foolish and tender dreams she had held in her heart.

In any event, for both of them, it was in the past now. It seemed as though Captain von Trapp was turning into a different sort of person before her eyes, and soon this new Captain would be taking his children to safety, and she would be – what? Maria didn't know what her future held after this interlude in the woods.

But she saw now that Reverend Mother had been wise to tell her to let the Captain believe she was still a postulant. Because otherwise, what might have happened?

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

I am so excited for the coming chapters, but unfortunately, I'm at the absolute peak busiest time of my work year! The updates will be a little slow in coming, if at all, for the rest of the month. I am so grateful for the many wonderful reviews, and hope you will forgive me for not answering them individually (in the spirit of the review holiday I am giving you!) Don't own, all for love.