Cheryl Reavis

by The Bartered Bride

  Respectfully, from your brother at Camp Long in Garysburg, William T. Holt.

  P.S. Frederich says he means for you to come up here.

  Caroline reread the last line, stopping short of frowning because Lise waited expectantly.

  “Is it a good letter?” she asked.

  “Yes. Uncle William says hello,” Caroline said, making a mental note to tell William that Lise hadn’t mentioned his birthday gift because she had never opened it. She had put Frederich’s fiddle and all of her gifts away until her father came home again.

  “I thought so. You smiled,” Lise said wistfully, and Caroline felt a pang of remorse about her recent, humorless state.

  “I hope Uncle William doesn’t die,” Lise went on matter-of-factly. “What would we do if he got shot and died, Aunt Caroline? What would we do if Papa got shot and died?”

  “Let’s don’t borrow trouble, all right? We just have to try to take care of everything here—and you keep remembering your father and Uncle William in your prayers—”

  “But I’m afraid it won’t help, Aunt Caroline. It didn’t help Mama.”

  Caroline put her arms around her. “We’ll still pray, though. No matter how it comes out, we’ll still pray as hard as we can.” She leaned back to look at Lise’s face and move a tendril of hair out of her eyes. “Did Mr. Rial forget anything else?” she asked, hoping to change the subject.

  “No. He just left—I guess to find out about the money.”

  “What money?” Caroline asked. She picked up a bucket and dipped it into the iron pot to fill it with soapy water to take to the pigs.

  “Papa’s money,” Lise said, following along with her and taking hold of the rope handle to help without being asked. “Beata says she knows Papa left plenty of money for us— she just doesn’t know what you did with it—”

  Caroline stopped walking, sloshing soapy water on them both. “What I did with it?”

  “That’s what she said. She wants to send some of it to Mr. Gerhardt. He’s not used to rough army life. He needs to buy things to keep him in the comfort he’s accustomed to.”

  “Over my dead body,” Caroline said under her breath.

  “What, Aunt Caroline?”

  “Nothing—go help Beata keep up with Mary Louise, all right? I’ll see you at the Mittagessen.“

  Caroline propped open the gate to the empty hog pen and dumped the water into the trough, causing the pigs to run forth from their hiding places, squealing with anticipation. She stood back out of the way, rather proud of her self-control. She had emptied the soapy water onto the pigs instead of onto Beata’s head. Beata Graeber was worse than all the Seven Plagues of Egypt, she thought, but it wouldn’t help having Lise any more upset than she already was.

  She kept carrying soapy water, intending to finish the task and not worry anymore about Frederich or his overly generous sister. She found Leah Steigermann waiting for her at the iron pot when she returned from her fourth trip to the hog pen.

  “Caroline,” Leah called, tripping out to meet her with great attention to where she stepped. “I came to tell you Johann brought me a letter from Avery today.”

  “Why?” Caroline asked bluntly, because Leah Steigermann, of all people, would know that she wouldn’t have much interest in anything Avery had to say.

  Leah smiled. “Because Frederich wrote something in it for you.”

  “Oh,” she said with little enthusiasm. Her pride had been sorely damaged of late, but it was still viable. It was incredible how much she didn’t want Leah to know what transpired between her and Frederich.

  “He wrote to me,” Leah said, taking the letter out of her pocket and opening it, “because he writes better in German—which you wouldn’t be able to read—and he says he doesn’t trust Beata to translate for you. Very sensible, I think.” She moved the back page to the front. “Here it is— Frederich writes that the company is going to join Lee’s army in Virginia before the week is out. He thinks they will go into battle soon and he wants you to know that he will take care of William the best he can. That’s all he says. This is dated the last of August—nearly a month ago. They are long gone by now, don’t you think—are you all right?”

  “Yes, I—it just surprised me, that’s all. I thought—”

  She didn’t say what she had thought. Of course she knew that Frederich and William would be going into harm’s way. She just hadn’t expected the news to affect her so strongly. Her relief at no longer being ordered to come to an army camp was completely overwhelmed by her concern for William. How long did it take to turn a farm boy into a soldier? she wondered. Surely more time than this, regardless of William’s thinking he’d “drilled enough to be a general.”

  She looked around to find Leah watching her.

  “You should have gone to Garysburg,” she said.

  “Is there nothing about my personal business people here don’t know?” Caroline said in exasperation.

  “Not much. You should have gone to Garysburg,” Leah said again. “You treat your husband very badly, Caroline.”

  “I do not, and you don’t know anything about it.”

  “I know you owe him everything and you give him nothing.”

  “I am taking care of Lise and Mary Louise. I am taking care of his property—”

  “Yes. His property. Not him. Do you think Beata doesn’t tell how things were between you and Frederich?”

  “There was nothing for her to tell.”

  Leah sighed. “Exactly. But you already know what I think, Caroline. I told you on your wedding day you were lucky to marry him. I would have married him gladly if you hadn’t—” She stopped, apparently because of Caroline’s incredulous look. She gave a small shrug. “My father wanted him for me. We would have done very well together, Frederich and I.”

  “But you love Avery,” Caroline said, still incredulous and coping now with a new emotion she would have sworn was jealousy.

  “Yes, of course, I love Avery—but he is a man for pleasure—not a man for marrying. Ah! How shocked you are! How is it you are so shocked, Caroline? You should understand.”

  I don’t know anything about pleasure, Caroline almost said. She could feel her face flush and she looked away.

  “I’m sorry,” Leah said kindly. “It wasn’t that way with the other man then.”

  “No,” Caroline said, reaching down to pick up the bucket. “It wasn’t that way.”

  “Then that is another reason why you are lucky to have Frederich. I think he would be an accomplished lover—”

  “Leah!”

  “What?” she said, laughing.

  “You shouldn’t say these things!”

  “No?”

  “No!”

  “Don’t you want to know what I—what other people-think about your husband?”

  “I know all I need to know.”

  “I hear my father and Johann talk. You don’t want me to tell you what they say?”

  “Certainly not—” She broke off and gave a resigned sigh. “Tell me,” she amended. She was ashamed of her ignorance in matters concerning the man she’d married, but not ashamed enough to let an opportunity like this pass her by. She hardly knew anything about Frederich Graeber—and what little she did know kept changing. She glanced at Leah, expecting her to be laughing still. She wasn’t.

  “Tell me,” Caroline said again with an in-for-a-pound bravado.

  “They talk about why his father sent him to America,” Leah said. And about his first wife.”

  “Why would they talk about Ann? She was a good wife to—”

  “No, not Ann—his first wife. His German wife. Are you done carrying the bucket?” Leah asked. “I don’t want to keep you from your work.”

  “Never mind the bucket—what German wife?”

  “Well, I think she was his wife. It was all very tragic. It happened when he was a soldier in Germany. Frederich wanted to marry the daughter of a very prominent man, but her family had already arranged a marriag
e to someone else, someone with a lot of money—a banker, I think. Anyway, Frederich deserted from his company and ran off with her. They were caught, of course, and his father had to pay a fortune to get him out of the trouble it caused—the girl’s reputation was ruined. Then Frederich’s father sent him to America to keep him from bringing any more scandal down on the family—but Frederich stole her from her parents’ house and took her with him.”

  “But what happened to her? I don’t remember that Frederich had a wife when he came here.”

  “She caught the fever and died on the voyage over. She had to be buried at sea. I think she is the reason Frederich wouldn’t take another German wife. He would marry because it was required of him, but he didn’t want to be reminded of her. He told Father once that he would never go home to Germany again. The sea was too terrible a place to him, because it was her grave. Father says she is the reason Frederich wanted your baby to have a place beside Ann—so that the baby wouldn’t have to lie all alone—Caroline, I’m sorry. It makes you sad still. I shouldn’t talk about the little one.”

  Caroline didn’t reply. She was thinking of the day Frederich had taken her against her will to see the baby’s grave. She was thinking of how much comfort it had given her to know that the baby rested beside Ann. She was thinking of the accusation she had made in the barn. She had been angered by Frederich’s presuming to understand her grief, and now she had discovered that, in all probability, he had.

  And she was thinking of Ann. Poor Ann, who hadn’t known there was no way she could matter to him.

  “I was right then,” she said, more to herself than to Leah.

  “About what?”

  Caroline looked at her for a moment, as she decided whether or not to answer. “About Frederich—and Ann. He didn’t care what happened to her. All he wanted from her was a male heir—”

  “No, Caroline—”

  “She died trying to give him his son when she wasn’t supposed to have any more children—what?” she said, because of Leah’s troubled look.

  “I think you misjudge him, Caroline.”

  “I was there, Leah.”

  “Don’t you care for Frederich at all?”

  “I think he is very kind to his children—and very hard on his wives.”

  “But he is kind to you.”

  “To me? No, Leah. He isn’t kind to me.”

  “But of course he is, Caroline. How can you say that? He would never hurt you—the way Avery did—and I’ve told you. You are alive because of him.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “Then explain it to me.”

  Caroline sighed again. “I suppose he is kind—sometimes—”

  “He is kind enough to write and try to keep you from worrying so about William.”

  “Yes,” Caroline agreed. “Sometimes he is kind—but then he isn’t. I never know what to expect from him. It’s as if he suddenly remembers who I am and how I came to be here—and he can’t abide it.”

  “I don’t think that is what he is remembering,” Leah said.

  “What then?” Caroline asked.

  Leah stared at her for a long moment, then shrugged. “I think he remembers what happened with her. I think maybe he’s afraid of you.”

  “Leah, why would Frederich be afraid of me?“

  “Because once he let himself care for a woman so much that it cost him everything. I think he is afraid to let anyone else have that kind power over him again. You are strong, Caroline. You would never just settle for whatever he thinks he wants to give.”

  Caroline gave a short laugh. “Strong? You are the one person who knows better than that.”

  “Oh, yes. I have seen you at your worst. But you don’t stay at your worst, do you? Look at you now—after all the bad things that happened to you, after nearly dying. You keep Frederich and Avery’s farms going. Everyone is talking about it—that prissy Holt woman with her town airs, knowing what to do. Everybody is hiding their cabbages and potatoes and hams in more than one place—because Frederich’s wife is doing so. Everyone is letting the pigs run in the woods—harder for us to catch, yes, but much harder for the army, too, if they want to take them—because Frederich’s wife is doing so. Everyone is keeping the ten percent of grain and corn set by and ready to give the army when it comes, so they don’t go looking for more—because you do it. Father and Johann both tell people it is better that the army takes the ten, like Caroline says, than the fifty. You see?”

  “I see that people are worrying that I might be right, not expecting that I am.”

  Leah smiled. “How is it you understand other people so well and not your husband?”

  “No one can understand Frederich Graeber, Leah. He keeps changing the rules—stay and eat with us, all right? Maybe you can put our Beata into a better mood.”

  “I will happily stay to eat,” Leah said. “But, my dear Caroline, I cannot do miracles.”

  Caroline smiled. “And will you write to Avery and set his poor neglected heart at ease?”

  “No,” Leah said, returning the smile. “I am engaged now, you see.”

  “Engaged! Leah, when? To whom?”

  “Oh, two weeks now,” she said airily. “Like Avery, he is a dashing soldier. I have known him a long while. He wrote to my father, and my father gives his blessing if I want it.”

  “And do you want it?”

  “Of course—it’s time I was married. You took the best man. I must take the only suitable one left. Tell me, shall I make a good schoolmaster’s wife?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Oct 20

  Dear Caroline,

  I don’t have to worry no more about what hell is like, for I have seen it with my own two eyes on that sunk down road to Sharpsburg. I am proud to say no body can give me the White feather. All the officers in this regement got killed. Frederich is the one that took us through. One of the generals didn’t like us letting a sarjent and a German tell us which way to go, but Frederich got us dug in where we could shoot Yankees and do some good. Me an Avery both would be dead if it werent for him. I for one am glad he is in the family and in this company. You know I found out I could run shoot and eat all at the same time?

  Respectfully, your brother Pvt. William T. Holt

  P.S. Avery wants to know if its true Leeah S. is marrying Mr. Gerheart. I told him if he wanted to know so bad he could ask Mr. Gerheart, for he is right here. But he says ask you. Can you send me some drawers? Mine is all full of holes. We are all pretty Holy if you want to know the truth.

  William’s effort did nothing to alleviate the anxiety Caroline had endured since the word came of the September battle. But she set about answering him immediately, not because she wanted to announce Leah’s impending marriage, but because Johann was going to Virginia to try to find out about the men who had been wounded at Sharpsburg, and sending a letter with him was the best opportunity she had for William to get his answers. She spared no detail about the preparations for the nuptials—the gathering of women who met as often as they could to sew the wedding dress and the trousseaux—usually in Beata’s kitchen because the Graeber farm was centrally located and more sewers could attend. She even advised William who would stand at Leah’s side and hold the bouquet when the time came for exchanging the vows. She did not tell him that Caroline Holt as matron of honor in Kader Gerhardt’s wedding had to be one of life’s most ironically cruel jokes.

  But, there was no way she could tactfully get out of it, unless she feigned illness on the big day—whenever that might be. She had tried pointing out the obvious—that Leah couldn’t possibly want The Scarlet Woman of the County standing by her at the altar. Leah was not discouraged, however. Caroline Holt was her friend, scarlet or not.

  In time, Caroline began to appreciate the situation. Somewhat. It was bound to annoy Kader far more than it upset her, and in lieu of wearing a red dress to his funeral, she decided that this must be the next best thing. She rather relished the idea of being conspicuousl
y on hand for the “or forever hold your peace” part of the ceremony. She knew that she should be ashamed of the pleasure her lack of charity gave her, but there it was, and it was no use pretending otherwise. If her presence at Kader’s wedding caused him undue anxiety, so be it. Turnabout was fair play; he had certainly been a sore point at hers. She would never forgive him for his indifference to his unborn child, just as she would never tell Leah or her family that he had been the father of her baby. Her doing so would serve no purpose but to cause the Steigermanns embarrassment and pain. She owed them too much to do such a thing, but that part, Kader didn’t have to know.

  She hardly remembered the month of November, there was so much work to be done. The severely cold weather had lessened the army’s foraging, but it was nearly all Caroline could do to keep enough wood cut. Sawing oak logs with a two-handled saw and Beata on the other end was inconceivable torture. Beata absolutely refused to learn that one never pushed, one always pulled, and it was only when Caroline threatened to hoard the wood and burn it in the fireplace upstairs for herself and the children only that Beata finally began to get the gist of the procedure.

  Occasionally.

  By the latter part of December, Caroline had been driven to stealing Avery’s already-cut wood, taking the wagon to the Holt farm every day or so for another load, rather than trying to maintain a woodpile with no help save Beata’s.

  The sky was heavily overcast and the afternoon freezing cold when she returned home from yet another forage. The coldness had the damp and wet kind of feeling to it that preceded a snow. Had there been any rings around the moon last night? She didn’t know. She had been too exhausted to look.

  She could hear laughter from the house as she drove the wagon into the yard—Leah’s sewing circle hard at work. It still surprised her that Beata allowed the women to meet in her kitchen. Leah had worked a miracle after all. Her announced engagement to Kader Gerhardt had certainly eliminated Beata’s nagging for money to send him for his “comfort.”