Desperate Arrangement: Bouncing Back, Book IV

16

Johanna tossed and turned on the bed as the Schneiders tended to her. Sweat coated her in a thick layer as her young body fought to overcome the fever and her menses that ravaged it. Her brown hair lay in complete disarray around her angelic face, sticking to the pale skin of her forehead and cheeks.

Sunlight streamed through the partially drawn curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Despite the daylight, the room felt dim due to the heavy drapes. The air was filled with the scent of medicinal herbs and the faint, sterile smell of antiseptic. In the corner, a mini potbelly stove burned splits of wood, its warmth permeating the room and adding a slight smokiness to the air. A small table beside the bed held an assortment of medical supplies—bandages, vials of medicine, and a bowl of cool water with a cloth draped over its edge. The sound of Johanna’s labored breaths punctuated the otherwise quiet room.

It had been three days, but she still showed no signs of waking. Her birthday had passed while she healed, the guilt of it weighing on Lukas’s conscience. As he watched from the doorway, he felt his grandmother's presence behind him in the hall.

"Did I make the right choice, Oma?" He asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Shaking her head in disbelief, she kissed his cheek. "The real question is if you can protect her until you take her from this place."

"I’ve no doubts, Oma. I’ve been searching for someone like her all along. A good-hearted woman who can act independently and isn’t in it just for the money. I needed someone who was the opposite of my mother, someone who wouldn’t leave me as broken as what happened to my father," he whispered, his voice filled with determination.

Nodding, the old woman smiled gently. "She's young."

"She’s within the legal range I required, so that doesn’t matter," he countered, his tone firm.

There was a noise from the front room as Mrs. Meyer bullied her way past Kristoph and made her way into the hall. "Give her back! I have rights as her mother!"

“Mother?” Nurse Schneider asked incredulously. Her anger on full display, she slapped Ursula. “What kind of ‘mother’ are you to conveniently ‘forget’ to let her out of the shed, Ursula? What kind of ‘mother’ allows her husband to beat on an innocent child because she dared to stand up to injustice? You are no mother, you self-absorbed b***h! You’re a monster! A heathen of Hell!”

Fighting the urge to break his composure, Lukas stared coldly at the woman. "I'm taking her for my bride whether you like it or not. If you think that I'm going to bully or hurt her in any way, I won't. I wasn't raised like that, so count your damn blessings. Your daughter will be treated like a queen. If she wishes to further her education in Canada, I'll help her any way I can," Lukas snapped.

"Mr. Roberts," the nurse called out.

He turned to look at her, his eyes softening at the worry and fatigue plastered all over her face. "What's wrong? Is Johanna okay?"

"Her fever is finally breaking. I would advise taking your time with her, however. Johanna has always been skittish," she replied.

Thankful that his trip had not been in vain, he peered through the door to the bed where the girl was now sleeping peacefully. Her face was no longer flushed bright red, and her breathing was leveled out. Lifting her after clearing it with the doctor and nurse couple who had been caring for her, he carried her to the second floor guest room. His own was the smaller one at the base of the stairs, and he was a light sleeper, so there would be no getting past him.

Checking the window to ensure it was locked and that no one could get in to disrupt her peace, Lukas returned to the front of the house. Clicking his tongue against his teeth, he sneered at her mother, "Get out, Mrs. Meyer. You're not needed nor are you welcomed here."

"I will be here when she wakes. She has chores," the woman argued.

"Seriously? Get the f**k out of this house, and don't come back. You're only upset because you're losing your personal slave," Lukas snapped.

As if his words clarified everything for the others, the room fell into an uneasy silence. Ursula scowled, seething quietly as she pointed a finger in Lukas’s face. When he glared at her, she seemed to shrink into herself. “Well, who else am I going to get to help me?”

“The other b***h,” Samara Schneider snapped. “Lukas is right. You are not needed nor welcomed, being just as guilty as your bastard of a husband for her condition.”

Ursula shrieked, “I didn’t do it!”

“No!” Lukas bellowed, having had enough of the lies and everything else the family threw at him since arriving in Goslar, Germany. “But you let it happen and did nothing to help her. You gave him your silence, your ignorance, and that’s just as bad as if you had been the one to smack her around! Make your other daughter help you. She should know what it is to care for a household considering her own condition.”

Unable to talk her way through any of them, the woman’s jaw set. “Mark my words, you brazen little arseloch, you will know the meaning of retaliation.”

“Yeah, okay,” Lukas commented dryly. “This conversation is over and your time here is, too. Drag your fugly ass back to your own house, and don’t bother returning.”

Watching Ursula walk out, Lukas breathed a sigh of relief. He’d put up with too much already, and Johanna needed him to keep his wits about him. To be able to protect her when she needed it. “Oma, I’m going up to watch over her.”

“I set some extra blankets in case you feel like a nap, mein Schatz,” the older woman said as she listened to Samara rip into Ursula again. “Kris?”

Scoffing, the man nodded. “It’s all been recorded to be added to their list of growing charges.”

“Good. No one threatens my babies,” she snarled, moving to put the linens from the sick room into the laundry.

Upstairs, while he sat in the armchair by the window of Johanna’s room, Lukas fought to keep his eyes open. Unfortunately, he was no match for the pull of exhaustion, and he had already passed his normal range for sleep deprivation. The room was warm and quiet, the soft glow of the afternoon sun filtering through the curtains.

The spare room was charmingly decorated in a traditional style. The bed was made with a hand-stitched quilt, its colorful patterns a testament to the skill and care that went into its creation. The walls were adorned with framed photographs and paintings, showcasing family memories and pastoral scenes. A wooden dresser stood against one wall, its surface cluttered with small trinkets and a vase of fresh flowers that filled the room with a subtle, sweet fragrance.

A cozy armchair sat by the window, providing a perfect spot for reading or simply gazing out at the garden below. A small side table held a lamp with a lace-trimmed shade, casting a soft, comforting light. The overall layout of the room exuded a sense of warmth and hospitality, making it an inviting space for any guest.

Sending a quick message to his father and brother, he slipped into a peaceful slumber, the rhythmic sound of Johanna’s steady breathing providing a soothing backdrop.

******

Back in Canada, Markus scowled darkly as he rubbed the spot over his heart. His eyes read the message again, picking apart each word until he felt the burn. Blinking, he fought a wave of tears that threatened to overflow. His room door opened, and he heard his father’s steady steps.

There was a falter, the tell-tale sign that the older man was just as upset with Lukas’s revelation as he was. “Dad?”

“He warned me that he’d give Johan Meyer a good run for his money, but this is beyond what I expected. He’s accepted the younger sister, and I’m not sure how to feel about it,” Trace confided as he sat on the bed. “You good?”

“My brother needs me, but I’m on a completely different continent, a different country,” Markus lamented softly, his desire to get to his little brother stronger than ever.

Putting a comforting hand on his elder son’s back, Trace sighed. He’d known all along that Lukas would make good on his threats. He always did. “Mark, Johan was a nemesis when I was young. He was jealous of my family’s standing, jealous of the fact that girls swooned over me rather than him. I refused to engage him, to give him the upper hand. I guess after I left, he rose to power in my stead.”

“Only to have my techy brother clip his wings and send him crashing into reality,” Markus finished. The statement was more of a question, however, and it made his father laugh.

Trace nodded. “Exactly. Now he’s planning to marry Johan’s youngest daughter, to bring her here as his wife, and I don’t know how to feel about having an old enemy’s child in my house.”

“Well, logically thinking, Luke did say she was abused. For another thing, now you know how Ross and Callum felt when Andromeda first arrived,” Markus teased.

Outside, the rain pelted the glass of the building mercilessly, creating a rhythmic drumming that echoed through the room. The gloomy weather mirrored the tension inside. Sighing as he rose to his feet, Trace scrubbed a hand over his face, the fatigue and stress evident in his movements.

“Mark, I gotta go talk to Cal and the others about this, so why don’t you fill in your teammates in the meantime,” he said, his voice heavy with the weight of their situation.

“Sounds like a plan, Dad. See you when you get back,” Markus replied, issuing the message that would trigger a team gathering.