of the class.
“I think she feels you’d be better off with a younger woman,” Sophie said.
“I’ll bet. I should never have given her chocolate.”
“Give a woman chocolate and she’ll follow you anywhere. You’re like the Pied Piper,” Sophie teased. “Except she’s not really a rat.” Just a bit of a brat.
“She’s something,” Trevor said, shaking his head.
The class made their way to the bus and Kurt began walking toward Trevor and Sophie. Harriet fell in with him.
Sophie heard him say, “Harriet, you don’t want to fall behind the others.”
“I thought I’d come with you,” she said. The girl was bold, Sophie would give her that.
“Actually, I’m going to be spending some time with my brother. You know. Family time.”
Harriet pointed to Sophie. “She’s not family.”
Kurt stopped just short of where Sophie and Trevor stood. “Not yet. Oh, and I’m hoping you won’t mind doing me a favor.”
Harriet looked eager at that. “Sure. What do you need, Herr Professor?”
“Make sure Hugh and Bristol and Megan all get back to the boat on time.”
Harriet rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe I paid all this money to babysit.” But she marched off, in search of the other students.
“I was thinking the same thing,” Kurt said, turning to Trevor and Sophie. “Bringing along my German class seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“I could have told you how that would turn out,” Trevor said.
“Yeah, you tell me a lot of stuff, most of it useless,” Kurt shot back with a teasing grin.
“Oh, well, you’re saved now,” Sophie said, then decided to give the two brothers some quality time. She’d find Denise and company and hang out with them. “You two enjoy yourselves.”
“Wait a minute. Where do you think you’re going?” Trevor demanded.
“I’m going to let you enjoy your family time,” Sophie said.
Kurt put an arm around her. “We share,” he said, and winked at his brother.
Trevor pulled her away. “We don’t share that much,” he said, making her giggle.
“Come on, let’s all go check out the city,” Kurt said.
Sophie was entranced with the stately brick homes with their gables and shuttered windows, many of them looking like miniature castles, as they made their way down the cobblestone street from the castle ruins to the town. She was delighted with the Christmas market, especially the giant pyramid that towered above all the booths. Sierra would have loved this, she thought wistfully.
Shopping for a treat for her sister was her first order of business, and she found an elegant silver tree ornament shaped like a pine cone that she was sure Sierra would like. As if an ornament was any kind of consolation for what Sierra was going through. Still, it was all Sophie could think to do.
She bought both brothers Glühwein. They, in turn, insisted on buying her lunch, taking her into a restaurant with enough inviting aromas to keep her mouth watering for months.
“Would you like a beer?” Kurt asked her as their dirndl-clad waitress approached.
“No,” said both Sophie and Trevor in unison.
“After the hangover I had this morning I don’t think I’m ever going to drink again,” Sophie said. “At least not today. Thank God Trevor knew what to do for a hangover.”
“He knows something, huh?” Kurt grinned across the table at his brother.
“Jealous, always has been,” Trevor said to Sophie. “It’s because he’s adopted. Bank robbers left him on our doorstep.” He smacked his forehead. “Damn! Mom told me not to tell.”
Sophie snickered and Kurt said, “Pay no attention to him. He’s delusional.”
The waitress had arrived. “Zwei Bier, bitte, für ihn und für mich,” he said to her. Then, to Sophie, “I have the perfect drink for you. Und eine Spezi,” he told the waitress.
“What’s that?” Sophie asked.
“It’s a combination of cola and orange drink. You’ll like it.”
“Und dreimal Schnitzel, bitte,” Trevor added, then held up three fingers. “Und Pommes frites auch.”
“You speak German, too?” Sophie asked him, impressed.
“Not as well as the old guy here,” Trevor said, “but some. One of our grandmas was an import. She had us speaking it when we were two.”
“So what did you just ask for?” Sophie wanted to know.
“Good stuff,” Trevor assured her. “The Pommes frites are French fries and the schnitzel is pork, pounded thin, breaded and fried. Our grandma used to make it.”
“Pork?” she said weakly. “Trichinosis.”
“Don’t worry, they cook it well,” Trevor assured her. “Germans eat this stuff every day.”
“And how many of them have little worms in their stomachs?” she retorted. She was not a big fan of pork.
But she