Chapter 21

"The children told me you could sing, but I had no idea…"

Maria blushed. "I love singing and cannot seem to stop, sometimes," she said and then shook her head. "Although these ribs are affecting my breath control."

Anke gave her new friend a side-glance. "If worrying about singing is what makes you behave yourself and take it easy, then I won't say anything to the contrary."

Maria smiled into the sunlight. "Oh, but I do love being outside!" She exclaimed and waved to the Adriatic. "I feel as though the sea is calling to me."

"You're a true sailor's wife," Anke said.

Maria's laugh was gentle, and she leaned into Anke's arm. Her strength was indeed returning. It still hurt to take deep breaths, but she didn't become fatigued if she took short walks. However, singing was something she was still apprehensive about taking too far. It was frustrating; singing was a part of her very being and to not be able to do it made her feel as if a piece of her was missing.

But as much as she missed it, it was nothing to the ache she felt when she reached for Georg and he was not there.

She released a shaky breath, staring at the sea. Seeming to understand, Anke patted Maria's hand. The two women continued to walk slowly along the promenade, enjoying the peace of being away from twelve children and a restless Max. The sky was crisply blue and the sea was a welcoming calm. Maria sighed, focusing on the good God had done through this terrible ordeal. Her friendship with the Anke. Her children's strength…

"Georg should be coming in three days," Anke said, entering Maria's thoughts.

Again, Maria's cheeks reddened. "God willing," she added and shook her head. "I have been so impatient to see him again."

Anke smiled. "You all deserve nothing but smooth sailing from now on," she said.

Maria grasped Anke's hand. "We all do! I could stay here forever with everyone!" She paused. "Well, maybe we could get a different house."

"Tired of my company already?" Anke asked.

The women laughed and Maria noticed their pace had slowed. "Are you delaying the inevitable? We have to return sometime!" She gazed ahead at the house that had become their refuge.

A figure had emerged, walking toward them. He was heavily leaning on a crutch, and his gait was awkward but determined.

Maria's breath left her body. Her hand covered her mouth. It couldn't be.

"Maria?" Anke asked.

But Maria was already rushing toward the figure. Toward Georg. She knew without question it was him. God had been just as impatient as she and brought her husband home to her sooner than expected. Georg was there, so close. She just had to keep going. Her side ached, but she ignored it. It meant nothing as his features started to crystalize. The world warped into a blur of color and warmth, sea salt and sunshine as she raced to him.

Georg saw the two women in the distance. His eyes focused on the red haired figure on the right, instantly knowing it was her. That she immediately dashed forward, despite her better judgment, made him release a laugh. Maria's exuberance could never be snuffed out.

Cursing his broken leg for the first time, he ambled to her, oblivious to the pain. All that mattered was getting to her. The sunlight made her seem to glow, and part of him wondered if she was even real, if this moment was actually happening.

"Georg!" Maria exclaimed as they reached one another.

Georg didn't know if his legs, even his good one, could remain steady. He was overcome with the sight of her. She was there, Maria was there. Four weeks of anguish, desperation, and rage finally, finally drifted away. The crutch fell to the ground and he held out his arms.

Maria, gasping for breath, hesitated for a split second before flinging herself into his arms as best as her wounded side and his broken leg would permit. They clung to each other, each daring to believe the other was truly there, truly alive. The sounds of Maria's muffled cries blended with the gentle crashing of the waves, consuming his senses. Georg dared hold her as tightly as he could until his good leg wobbled.

"Oh!" Maria exclaimed and backed away. Gasping, she blinked in bewilderment before immediately stooping to retrieve his crutch.

Accepting it, Georg stood still, unable to stop staring at her and taking in her every feature. Her cheeks were pink, her hair windswept, and her bright blue eyes were sparkling. She was so gloriously Maria, and Georg knew he'd never seen a more beautiful vision in his life.

She fought to regain her breath, gazing at his leg. "You're hurt!"

"You're alive."

Maria looked back up at him. "Here," she whispered and guided him to a nearby bench. Seated, Georg reached up and took her face in his hands, desperate to touch her again. Her skin was healthily warm, when the last time he'd held her, she'd been feverish. Her eyes were alert, albeit wet with tears, instead of blank and dull. Her breathing was quick, but not with pain. She was vivid with vitality.

She placed her hands atop his. "Maria…" he murmured and lowered his head as did she. Their foreheads touched, and they remained still.

"Darling," she said, holding his hands tighter. Georg squeezed his eyes shut, drowning in everything about her. She had become a ghost to him, a mirage that he'd tried to convince himself was only a dream. It had been the only way he'd been able to survive. And now as he soaked in everything about her, her face, voice, even the scent of her shampoo… the dream was evaporating and he was fully awake. Every part of his being sparked with energy. He felt reborn. He exhaled slowly.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled back. She blinked several times, and her tears fell unchecked. He reached up and wiped one away. "You're alive," he repeated, breathless. "I thought they'd…"

She shook her head, too overwhelmed at what he had been through. Because of her.

"I am so sorry," he rasped. When she started to protest, he dared to clutch her just a little harder. "I left you. I promised I wouldn't and I did."

"No, you didn't leave me," she insisted. "They took you." Her throat tightened. She shifted toward him. "You never left me." He gulped, and she nodded. "You were always with me."

Georg released a breath, stroking her cheek. "I thought I would go mad…"

"I'm sorry for putting you through that," she said. It was his turn to object, and she shook her head. "If I had gotten on that train, none of this would have happened."

He reached up to touch her hair. "I was glad you were there." He offered a small smile. "You gave me strength."

She looked down at his leg again. "You're hurt," she repeated.

He couldn't take his eyes from her. "I thought you knew."

"Yes, but how bad?"

"It is nothing. I'd chop it off if it got me home to you," he said and lowered his hands to her shoulders. "You're all right?" After weeks of thinking the worst, he didn't know if he'd ever believe she was truly out of danger.

She nodded, understanding him as she always did. "Yes. I am now," she said and hugged him close. Georg's shoulders relaxed, feeling his heartbeat slow. Even in the daydreams of this moment he'd permitted himself to indulge in as he raced to Italy, she wasn't nearly this breathtaking. He closed his eyes and sighed, allowing peace to enter his soul. The sunlight wrapped around him, truly healing him as he felt the benediction of her embrace.

They shifted back, and he stared into her eyes. Oh, how he missed those eyes. Gazing at him with the same love and trust that had never wavered, not once. They had haunted his dreams, tormented him in the long nights when he didn't know if she was alive or dead. And now they stared at him with pure love.

He reached up and gently brushed her cheek as she instinctively leaned closer. Their lips met in a tender, soft reflection of their first kiss. He felt her melt into him, and he held her gently. It was a kiss of healing and absolution, of hope that their lives were truly blessed.

Georg smiled at her, wiping a few strands of hair from her forehead. "I've missed you," he said.

Maria beamed at him. "Me too," she said, holding his hand in hers. "We're all here, together, safe and in one piece." She glanced at his leg. "More or less."

He grinned before studying their entwined fingers. "Nothing a little time won't fix. And that is what we have, Maria." He looked back up at her. "Just us and the children. As it always should be."

"God is so good," Maria said, and for the first time since he received that telegram, Georg believed it. Love had triumphed. It had been arduous; hours had been excruciating. But it was over, and they had made it back to each other. He would forever be thankful for that, and was more than ready to put the whole ordeal behind them.

They turned to one another, and Georg reached up to caress her cheek. She sighed and leaned closer, their lips meeting this time with an eagerness to return to those blissful nights in Paris. Georg's hand fell to her back, instinctively pulling her closer. The sea air washed over them, and the waves lulled them into a peace they hadn't felt in a month.

Maria started to raise her left hand to rest on his chest, but she gasped when her injury made its presence known. Georg snapped back, frowning. But Maria shook her head and gave a rueful smile. Assured and grateful that the only remaining obstacle they had to endure was time, Georg took her hands in his. "I love you," he said.

Her eyes brightening, Maria squeezed his hands. "I love you too," she said and gazed at their entwined hands. "Shall we go to the children?"

"They will assault us."

She laughed. "They have been wonderful, Georg. They've been spoiling me."

Georg reached for his crutch. "As they should," he said as he pushed himself to stand. Turning he held out his hand to her. Maria slowly rose and made sure he was steady on the crutch. Neither moved, and Georg grinned and stole one quick kiss on her cheek, making her blush. He pivoted on his good leg and offered his free arm. "Shall we, Baroness?"

"Let's go home," Maria said as they slowly made their way to their family and the future they could look forward to, together.

The end