“It’s getting late. She should be back by now.” Erik felt the same concern. Anne had been gone over an hour. The sky was beginning to cloud over, and when he returned from watering the cows he’d felt the chill wind that had replaced the previously warm afternoon breeze. Her thin cardigan would be no protection against the elements. “Maybe she just needed to be alone for a while,” he said. He hoped that was the only reason she’d been gone so long. Ingrid stirred a pot of soup on the woodstove. “I don’t believe Anders didn’t tell her about Signe. It’s not like he had forgotten her.” “From Anne’s reaction to the letter, I’d say she had no idea there was another girl back home,” Astrid replied. “And even if she did, it was Anders who was being unfaithful, not her,” Erik said. Ingrid faced him, her eyes hot and angry. “You’ll take any opportunity to blame him, won’t you? Why are you so angry with him?” Erik threw up his hand. “Yes, of course. Our sainted brother can do no wrong.
