A Bride's Sweet Surprise in Sauers, Indiana

by Ramona K. Cecil

  Laughing, he clapped his hands together. “Well done, if I say so myself.” His expression turned apologetic. “Forgive my intrusion on your work, but I would like to ask a favor.”

  Curious, Regina focused on the paper in his hand as she neared. From what she could tell, it looked to be the Madison Courier newspaper. “I was about to take a rest anyway.” Though not entirely true, she liked that her reply erased the concerned lines from his handsome face.

  Diedrich unrolled the paper. With a look of little-boy shyness that melted her heart, he held it out to her. “Will you read this to me, please? I cannot ask your parents or my Vater. And Vater knows less English than I do.” He narrowed his gaze at a spot near the top right side of the paper. “I recognize only the word California.”

  Taking the paper from his hands, Regina followed his gaze and focused on an article beneath a heading that read Ho FOR C ALIFORNIA . Scanning the article, she saw it advertised a fort in Arkansas as a place for California gold seekers to gather. A feeling of apprehension gripped her, and for an instant, she was tempted to tell him the paper was simply reporting about gold having been found in California. But he’d be sure to find out the truth eventually. And besides, wasn’t Pastor Sauer’s sermon last Sunday on the evil of telling untruths?

  “So what does it say?” Eagerness shone in Diedrich’s gray eyes.

  “It says gold seekers should go to a place called Fort Smith in Arkansas.” Her drying throat tightened, forcing her to swallow. “It lists all the items someone going to the goldfields will need and claims they have those things for sale. It also says the government is building a road called the Fort Smith-Santa Fe Trail to the goldfields.”

  “Then this Fort Smith, Arkansas, is where I should go?” His eyes sparking with interest, he took the paper from her limp hands.

  Regina fought the urge to tell him no, that he shouldn’t go there. Instead, she mustered a tepid smile and with a weak voice said, “Yes, I suppose it is.”

  Anticipation bloomed on his face, and he rolled the paper back up and stuffed it inside the waistband of his trousers at the hip. He took her hands into his, and his flannel-soft eyes filled with gratitude. “Danke, Regina.” His calloused thumbs caressed the backs of her hands, and her heart took flight like a gaggle of geese. He dropped her hands, and she experienced a sense of loss.

  She turned and faced the garden again. “Well, I must get back to my planting, or we will not have potatoes this year.” Despite an effort to lighten her voice, it sounded strained.

  “I am done with the plowing, and Vater and Herr Seitz are finishing the corn planting.” He looked over the little garden patch. “I would be happy to help you finish planting the potatoes.”

  With her heart slamming against her ribs, her first inclination was to decline his offer. What was the matter with her? Eli was her sweetheart, not Diedrich. Besides, by the end of harvest, Diedrich would be heading for California. She looked at the hoe and the nearly full sack of seed potatoes lying in the dirt. Diedrich and his father caused her enough extra work, so why not accept his help? She nodded and smiled. “Danke. I would much appreciate that.”

  For the next hour, they worked together with him digging the holes and her dropping in the pieces of cut potato. As they worked, they sang hymns, and Regina marveled at how well their voices blended. When not singing, they swapped anecdotes about tending gardens as children with their siblings.

  “Do you miss your brothers?” Regina asked as she placed the last piece of potato in the little gully Diedrich had just dug.

  His face took on a pensive expression, and he rested his chin on the back of his hands, which covered the knob of the hoe’s handle. “Ja. I do miss them.”

  Regina stood and brushed her palms together, dusting the soil from them. “Your brothers did not want to come here?” Herr Rothhaus had mentioned his older sons and their families on several occasions but had never said if they, too, would like to come to America.

  Diedrich shook his head. “Johann, no. He is the oldest and is attached to the farm in Venne. Frederic, I think, would come, but his wife, Hilde, is with child again. Even if they had money for the passage—which they do not—she was not willing to risk it.”

  His comment struck home for Regina. “I was born on ship during Mama and Papa’s voyage here.” Her gaze panned the surrounding farm. “I am glad Mama was courageous.” For a moment they shared a smile, and warmth that had nothing to do with the midday sun rushed through her.

  Diedrich jammed a maple stick into the ground at the end of their last row of potatoes to mark it, then glanced up at the sky. “Now all we have to do is pray for Gott to send the sun and the rain.” Grinning, he nodded toward the split log bench near the house. “I think we have earned a rest.”

  “So do I.” Regina followed him out of the patch of tilled ground, unable to remember a more enjoyable experience planting potatoes. As she stepped from the loose soil of the garden, one of her wooden shoes sank deep into a furrow, and when she lifted her foot, the shoe stayed behind. Not wanting to get her sock dirty, she balanced on one foot and bent the shoeless one back beneath her.

  At her grunt of dismay, Diedrich turned around. Seeing her plight, he hurried to her. “Here, hold on to me.” He reached down to retrieve her shoe. Obeying, she slipped her arm around his waist and felt the hard muscles of his torso stretch with his movement. Her heart quickened at their nearness as he held her against him with one hand while placing the Holzschuh on her stockinged foot.

  With her shoe back in place, she mumbled her thanks and stepped away from him as quickly as possible, hurrying to the bench in an effort to hide her blazing face. She tried to think of an instance when Eli had kindled an equally pleasant yet unsettling reaction in her but couldn’t.

  They perched at opposite ends of the bench, leaving a good foot of space between them. For a long moment, they sat in silence. The gusting breeze, laden with the perfume of lilac blossoms, dried the perspiration beading on Regina’s brow.

  At length, Diedrich reached behind him and pulled the newspaper from the waistband of his trousers. He looked at it for a moment then turned to Regina. “I have another favor to ask. I would like for you to teach me to read the English. I will never make it to California if I cannot speak or read the language of America.”

  Like all the local young people of German heritage, Regina was fluent in both German and English, having learned English in school. Switching between the two languages felt as natural to her as breathing. With German spoken exclusively at home, it hadn’t occurred to her that Diedrich lacked that advantage.

  She smiled. “I’m not sure how good a teacher I will be, but I will try.”

  She scooted closer and, bending toward him until their shoulders touched, began to point out some of the simpler words on the pages of the open newspaper. “And.” Dragging out the enunciation, she pronounced the word above her index finger then had him repeat it.

  An obviously quick learner, he mastered the one-, two-, and three-letter words by the first or second try. So Regina moved on to some larger words but with decidedly less success, making for humorous results.

  After butchering the word prospectors for the third time, he began guessing at its pronunciation, making the word sound sillier with each try and sending Regina into fits of laughter so hard that tears rolled down her cheeks. “Nein, nein, nein!” she gasped between guffaws, her head lolling against his shoulder.

  “Regina.”

  At the sound of her name, she looked up to see Eli standing a few feet away and eyeing her and Diedrich with an angry glare.

  Chapter 8

  I thought you said you weren’t interested in him.” Despite his earlier fierce look, Eli’s voice sounded more hurt than angry as he cast a narrowed glance over Regina’s shoulder toward the bench she’d sprung from seconds ago.

  “Diedrich asked me to teach him English, that is all.” She shrugged, trying to force a light tone.

  “Diedrich, huh?”
Eli shot another glare past her, his voice hardening and his brow slipping into an angry V.

  Despite the dozen or so feet between them, Regina could feel Diedrich’s eyes on her back. Thankfully, he had not followed her across the yard to where she and Eli now stood beneath the white-blossomed dogwood tree. She desperately wished he would discreetly leave her and Eli alone, but after the two men’s confrontation in the barn last week, she doubted he would. Why did Eli have to come at this very moment?

  Sighing, she put her hand on Eli’s arm. His tensed muscles reminded her of a cat about to pounce. Though admittedly flattering, Eli’s jealousy was growing tiresome. As much as she tried to make her voice sound conciliatory, she couldn’t keep a frustrated tone from creeping in. “What I told you is true.” The temptation to tell him about the agreement she and Diedrich had made tugged hard. But she couldn’t risk him blurting it out in an unguarded moment. “You will just have to believe me.”

  Eli groped for her hand, but for reasons she couldn’t explain, she drew it back and crossed her arms over her middle, tucking her hands protectively beneath them. “Why are you here?”

  “My uncle’s barn burned near Dudleytown last night.”

  A wave of concern and sorrow swept away her defenses, and she reached out to touch his arm again. “Oh Eli, I am sorry to hear that. I hope your uncle and his family were not hurt.”

  He gave an unconcerned shrug. “Na. They’re all right. Lost a couple of pigs, but they got the horses and cows out.” A grin crept across his handsome face. “Thing is, Pa and some of my uncle’s neighbors are plannin’ a barn raisin’ soon as Pa can get enough lumber sawed at the mill. He’s invitin’ everybody in Sauers to come.” Fun danced in his green eyes, and he grasped her hands. “Your pa’s already agreed to come and bring you and your ma.” His smile faded briefly as he glanced behind her. “And them two fellers stayin’ here with you.” He focused on her face again, and his smile returned with a roguish quirk. “We can see each other all day durin’ the barn raisin’. And with so many people about, I’d wager we could prob’ly slip off and get some time to ourselves and nobody would even notice.”

  Drawing her hands from his, she stepped back and thought she heard a stirring sound behind her. She prayed Diedrich would not feel compelled to save her from Eli’s exuberance. The prospect of having to step between the two men to prevent them from coming to blows did not appeal to her. Nor did she relish the notion of explaining to Papa and Herr Rothhaus what had prompted the fisticuffs.

  Thankfully, Eli made no move to recapture her hands or, worse, try to steal a kiss, which would doubtless bring Diedrich sprinting to her side.

  Eli’s gaze, focused behind her, tracked to the right as if following a moving object. Was Diedrich, after all, deciding to intrude on her and Eli’s conversation? Or had he gone, leaving the two of them alone? Oddly, she found the second notion more disconcerting than the first.

  Eli’s expression sobered, and he took a couple of steps backward. “I just wanted to let you know about the barn raisin’. An’ if you are my special girl, you can prove it by sneakin’ off and spendin’ some time alone with me durin’ the meal.” Reaching up, he plucked a blossom from the boughs above them and pressed it into her hand.

  Before Regina could tell him that her parents would never allow her to do such a thing, he turned and took off at a quick trot, disappearing around the corner of the house. Opening her palm, she stared at the ivory-colored flower with its spiky crownlike center and jagged, rust-stained tips that edged its four petals. Three weeks ago on Easter Sunday morning, Pastor Sauer had suggested that the appearance of the blossoms should be a reminder of Christ’s sacrifice for man’s sins. Guilt pricked like a thorn at her heart. She doubted Christ, or her parents, would approve of what Eli had asked her to do.

  Had Diedrich heard? Though he couldn’t read English, both he and his father had displayed an ability to understand some of the spoken words. At the thought of his having overheard Eli’s demand, a flash of panic leapt in her chest. She spun around to look for him, but he had gone. Instead of bringing her relief, the sight of the empty bench brought a strange forlornness.

  Thunder boomed, shaking the bed Diedrich shared with his father and rattling the window glass across the dark room. Wide awake, he rolled onto his side, searching in vain for a more comfortable, sleep-inducing position. The ropes supporting the feather tick mattress groaned in protest with his movements, while a white flash of lightning cast an eerie glow over the room.

  Through the tumult Father slept, his snores and snorts adding to the cacophony of the storm outside. Diedrich rolled onto his back again and closed his eyes, but still sleep eluded him.

  Sighing, he sat up in surrender. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and pressed his bare feet to the nubby surface of the rag rug that covered much of the puncheon floor. At supper, his concerns about Regina and her attachment to the boy called Eli had robbed him of his appetite. But now, his stomach rumbled in protest of its emptiness. In truth, it was not the raging storm but thoughts of Regina and Eli that had kept sleep just beyond Diedrich’s grasp.

  As quietly as possible he pulled on his trousers and shirt and padded barefoot across the room, hopeful that the sounds of the storm would cover any creaking noises his movements might evoke from the wood floor. He would rather Herr or Frau Seitz not discover him wandering about their home in the middle of the night.

  Intermittent flashes of lightning guided him to the kitchen at the back of the house. But upon reaching the room, he realized he would need a more constant light in his quest for food or risk knocking something over and waking everyone in the house.

  He lit the tin lamp on the kitchen table, suffusing the space with a warm, golden glow. In search of the remnants of last night’s venison supper, he stepped to the black walnut cabinet where he had seen Frau Seitz and Regina store leftover food from meals. As he reached up to grasp the knob of the cabinet door, he caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his right eye.

  Freezing in place, he peered intently through the kitchen doorway that opened to the washroom. A creaking sound emanated from the enclosed stairway that led up to Regina’s bedroom. For a heart-stopping moment, Diedrich contemplated blowing out the lamp and bolting to the interior of the house and his own bedroom. But before he could move, a small dancing light appeared on the back door and a shadowy figure emerged from the stairwell.

  A small gasp sounded from the washroom. Unable to speak or move, he gazed unblinking at the vision before him. Fully dressed, but barefoot and with her unplaited hair cascading around her shoulders, Regina stood motionless in the threshold between the washroom and kitchen. Light from the amber finger lamp in her hand burnished her loosed tresses, making them appear as a cloud of gold around her face.

  “Verzeihst du mir.” Finding his tongue at last, Diedrich murmured his apology. “Forgive me for waking you.” He glanced at the cabinet. “I woke up hungry and thought … “

  To his surprise, she smiled and walked to him. “It was the storm that woke me, not you.” She glanced upward. “The sounds are more frightening to me upstairs with the big cottonwood tree swaying just outside the window beside my bed. So during storms, I often come down and sit near the bottom of the stairs. I was on my way down when I saw your light in the kitchen.” As if to lend validity to her words, an explosion of thunder shook the house. She jerked, and for a moment, Diedrich feared she would drop the glass lamp. He eased it from her fingers and set it beside the tin one on the kitchen table.

  The look of fear on her face made him want to comfort her. Protect her. Instead, he said the stupidest thing that could come out of his mouth. “It is just noise. It cannot hurt you.”

  Giving him a sheepish smile, she opened the cabinet, releasing the welcome aroma of roasted venison. “I know it is silly of me, but I have always been afraid of storms. Mama says I was born during a storm at sea on their journey from Bremen to Baltimore.” She handed him a platter co
vered with a cotton towel. “My fear of storms wasn’t so bad when my sisters were here and shared my room, but now that I am alone in my bed …” Her words trailed off as if she realized she’d said too much, embarrassing herself.

  “This venison smells wunderbar.” Rushing to her rescue, Diedrich hastened to change the subject. Why did he always feel compelled to protect her, even from herself?

  She took down another plate from the pantry cabinet, and Diedrich inhaled a whiff of sourdough bread. “If you will slice the meat and Mama’s good Bauernbrot,” she said, “I will dip us each a Becher of milk.” Darting about the kitchen, she produced two plates and a large knife then headed toward the crock of milk beside the sink.

  When they finally sat together at the table with the ingredients for their middle-of-the-night repast, Diedrich propped his elbows on the tabletop and bowed his head over his folded hands as Regina did the same. Diedrich’s whispered prayer of thanks was swallowed up by a violent crash of thunder. Regina gasped and jumped then visibly trembled as the sound continued to roll and reverberate around the little kitchen.