"Milk sounds good."
She filled two glasses with milk, and then sat down at the table with him.
Karl immediately took her hand and bowed his head, praying over their meal. When he was finished, he looked down at his beans. "I don't think a meal has been cooked in this house for as long as I've lived here. I always go to my brother's house for holidays."
"Will we continue that tradition?" she asked, wondering what his brother was like. She hoped he had a family she would like, because she had no one here but the kindly lady next door.
"Oh, I don't see why not. You wouldn't mind, would you?"
She shook her head. "I have no one here."
"Who do you have at home?" he asked, wondering who she'd left behind. "Did you have a sweetheart back East?"
She shook her head. "No, never a sweetheart. I had some friends that I shared a small apartment with."
"No family?"
"My family is huge. I have four sisters and two brothers, but they're all married with children. We've scattered across the country. The only thing for anyone back in Lawrence were the mills, and none of the others wanted to spend the rest of their lives in them. I didn't either, but—well, I enjoyed my freedom. Being married takes some of that away from me."
"You feel like marriage is a loss of freedom?" he asked, perplexed.
"For a woman it is. Think about it. My father died when I was sixteen, and my mother when I was eighteen. For the past four years, I've had no one to answer to but myself and God. If my conscience let me do something, then it was all right for me to do. Now, if I want to spend money, I must ask my husband. If I want to go see my friend in the next city over, I must ask my husband. A little over a month ago, I got on a train with a friend on a moment's notice, and no one cared. Now, I think it would upset you if I did so."
He frowned. "I never thought about it that way. I guess I'm losing my freedom too, though. How would you feel if I hopped on a train with no notice and went to visit someone?"
"I hadn't thought of that. It's a loss of freedom for both, I suppose, but in different ways." She took a bite of her beans. "Thank you for helping me see your perspective."
"I don't want you to feel like you're not allowed to make decisions without me. If you want to sew orange curtains with green sashes for the living room, feel free to do it."
Sarah laughed softly. "That sounds hideous."
"Oh, it would be, but I wouldn't stop you. I want you to feel like you have the right to make some decisions without me. Leaving to go to another city or state wouldn't make me happy, but going to the store without me is perfectly fine."
She smiled. "I hope so. I need to go tomorrow. I've got to get some more ingredients if you want me to cook meals that are palatable. I really thought you'd have some of the basic seasonings, but there is nothing here that I didn't bring in."
"Sorry," he said. "I can take you in the morning before work."
"Oh, there's no need for that. We're close to the store, and I can walk as well as the next woman. The only mode of transportation I had back East was my feet. I walked everywhere."
"If you don't mind, that would be good. I hate going in to work late two days in a row."
"I want to buy fabric for curtains tomorrow." She frowned. "I wish I had a sewing machine. It would lighten the amount I need to do a great deal."
"I saw one at the store today. Buy it. I don't mind."
"I'm sure you didn't notice the price. They're terribly dear."
He shook his head. "I didn't notice the price. Get one. I have more than enough money saved up for you to buy a sewing machine if you want it. And whatever else you're thinking of, I'm sure. You're a frugal woman, and if you think it would help you, get it."
She bit her lip, thinking about it. While she'd love the machine, she really didn't think he would approve when he realized how much they were talking about. "It's not a good idea."
He sighed. "Look, I don't have time to go to the store and get it myself, but if I come home tomorrow and you don't have one, I will be angry. I'm your husband. I'm telling you to buy yourself a sewing machine." He shrugged. "I know you probably haven't had time to look at my clothes, but there's very little not in need of repair. If you can do it faster with a machine, then I want you to have one. I want you to be able to cook all the delicious meals I want to eat as well as sew for me."
She laughed. "So you're not doing it for me, you're doing it so I can do more for you!"
"Oh, absolutely. I want my wife to be efficient." He grinned at her as he took a bite of the beans. "Think of it as a wedding gift."
"Karl, you're so romantic!" she said in a mock-swooning voice.
He frowned. "Are you looking for romance?"
"Every woman is." She sighed. "My parents were very romantic. My father would walk a mile out of town during the spring after working a ten hour day, so he could take wildflowers to my mama. She would treasure the flowers. And he would sing love songs to her, and they'd dance together across the kitchen." Her eyes sparkled as she recalled the way her parents had been with one another. "I had in my head that all immigrants were like that."
"My father was never like that. He would bring home special things she needed, and she'd use them. That was all. Do you want me to be more like your father was?"
"I don't know if you can be. Mrs. Norman says that German men don't have it in them to be romantic. I wouldn't have answered your advertisement if you hadn't been an immigrant, because I was convinced I would have romance."
"So you want me to bring you flowers? Really?"
She shrugged. "There are no flowers at this time of year, Karl. Don't worry about it." She wanted him to worry about it, though. So badly. Would it hurt him to be a little sweeter and more romantic? "My father also used to leave my mother notes when she left the house. Mama loved that."
Karl nodded. Notes, he could do. He might even be able to scare up some gifts, but he didn't tell her that. "I will try."
"That's all I ask."
*****
Sarah was up early the next morning and in the kitchen cooking when Karl came out of his room, yawning and stretching. He went into the bathroom, and came out after shaving. He walked to her and kissed her cheek. "How did you sleep, wife?"
Sarah smiled. "Very well, thank you. Thank you for giving me a month before I need to move my things to your room," she said with a slight blush.
"It is no problem. I'm a romantic husband, after all."
Sarah shook her head, nodding for him to sit at the table. She put a plate piled high with pancakes beside his setting and a plate with bacon next to it. She poured him a cup of coffee and a cup for herself before sitting.
After he'd prayed for them both, Sarah put two pancakes on her plate and added syrup, noting that she should go to the store for some butter. It had never occurred to her he would have neither butter nor cream to make butter from. Of course, even if he'd had cream, he had no butter churn, so what good would it do?
After Karl had gone to work for the day, she went into his room to make his bed. On his pillow, she found a note. "Don't forget to go to the store to get your sewing machine today. You are a hard working woman, and I like you. Karl."
Sarah laughed softly at his efforts to be romantic. She'd teach him. Certainly a man like Karl could learn. He seemed to want to!
She left for the store immediately after making the beds and cleaning the kitchen, having made a long list of things she needed for the house, including a scrub board and a strong rope she could use as a clothesline. The man didn't even have the basics for washing laundry! How had he survived without a wife?
When she got home, she went into the bathroom and gave it a good scrubbing. She'd wanted to spend some time in the bath the previous day, but because there was so much else to do, she hadn't taken the time. She'd made do with just a quick sponge bath. Today, after the store delivered all of the items she'd purchased, she would take a bath. She was excited at the prospect of taking a ba
th when she didn't have to haul water for it first.
She finished her cleaning of the bottom floor of the house a short while later, happy to call it done. She was sitting down to eat a bit of the leftover beans from the previous night when there was a knock at the door.
The same delivery boy from the previous day carried everything into the kitchen for her, except the sewing machine. "Where do you want that, ma'am?"
She frowned, thinking about it. She certainly didn't want it in the parlor. She hadn't even investigated the upstairs yet. "Put it in here," she said, indicating the room she was sleeping in. She could make this into a sewing room when she stopped using it for sleeping in.
He carefully put it into the corner of the room where it was out of the way, and she looked at it with a smile. It was a newer model than the one she'd used in the factory, and she was excited to give it a whirl.
After he was gone, and she'd finished her lunch, she hurried into the kitchen and mixed the dough for bread, kneading it on the work table. She wanted the bread ready for dinner that evening.
Going down the stairs, she scrubbed the clothes she'd tossed the day before, and put them in a basket. When they were all clean, she carried them up the stairs and out to the line to hang them. It took her two trips to get them all, but when she was done, and the clothes were flapping in the breeze, she was pleased.
Just as she was finishing up to go into the house, she saw Mrs. Norman standing outside watching her. As she got closer she stopped. "Well, hello. Thank you for the warning about German men not knowing anything about romance." Sarah shook her head. "I've never seen anything like it."
Mrs. Norman laughed. "Karl is something special, isn't he?"
Sarah grinned. "He is that. Have you been doing his laundry?"
"Oh, yes. It's not a chore I begrudge you. The man will wear a pair of pants until they can walk around on their own."
"Yes, I noticed." Sarah shook her head. "They're all clean now, though. And his sheets."
"I wondered about his sheets. I should have asked." Mrs. Norman shook her head. "If you need anything, you be sure to let me know. And come over for some tea and cookies sometime soon."
"Oh, be sure I will. I have the house almost caught up, and then I will be able to spend a little more time at leisure."
"Remember, if you get too busy to cook one day, Karl would be happy to have one of my homemade meals as well."
Sarah's eyes widened. "Are you losing a lot of your income with me being here? I'm doing the laundry and making his meals—"
"Don't you worry about that one bit! I make enough. You take care of your husband."
"Yes, ma'am." Sarah smiled. "My bread is ready to be punched down. I'll talk to you soon, I hope."
"You'll see me Sunday at church if not before." Mrs. Norman hugged Sarah. "You're going to be a good wife to Karl. He needs that."
"All men do," Sarah said with a smile, thankful for the praise. She needed to hear that she was doing well after the rocky start she and Karl had just gotten off to.
Chapter Four
On his way home from work that evening, Karl stopped at the store to get his wife a gift. He looked around, trying to find just the right thing for her. She seemed to enjoy cleaning so much that he found a scrub brush and a washboard. When he got to the front of the store, the owner looked at what was in his hands. "Your wife bought a washboard this morning."
Karl sighed. "I guess I don't need that then. I was just hoping to be able to find her something special. You know, a courting kind of gift."
Mr. Fredericks laughed, as if he was sharing a joke with Karl. When Karl's face remained unsmiling, he shook his head. "Oh, Karl, you have so much to learn about women."
"What do you mean? She's a practical woman, so I'm taking her a practical gift."
"You need to get her something she'll enjoy. Flowers? Jewelry? Some candy?"
"No, not for my Sarah. She's smart, and she's frugal. Let me look for what I can find for her." Karl wandered through the store, looking at the shelves. He picked up a rug beater. "Did she buy herself a rug beater this morning?"
"No, she didn't, but I don't think that's a good idea, Karl!"
Karl took it to the counter and set it on the table beside the scrub brush. "That's because you don't know my Sarah like I do. She'll be happy."
Mr. Fredericks punched some buttons on his cash register and gave Karl a total. After Karl gave him the cash, he smiled. "I hope she only uses that rug beater for its indented use."
Karl gave him a blank stare. "Pardon me?"
Mr. Fredericks threw his hands in the air. "Do what you want, Karl. But before you go, what flowers do you want on your grave?"
Karl refused to even answer the question, walking out to his horse and putting the rug beater across the front of him to better carry it. Sarah was going to be so happy with him. He couldn't wait to see her face.
*****
..
Sarah was just taking fresh bread out of the oven when she heard the front door open and Karl come into the house. She felt her heart jump a little at the sound of him. She didn't know if it was because she was nervous about seeing him or excited to see him. Maybe it was a little of both. She said a quick prayer for calm discussions and a good evening getting to know one another.
Karl came into the kitchen with his hands behind his back, his face lit with excitement. Sarah walked to him and kissed his cheek in greeting just as her mother had kissed her father's cheek every evening when he came home. She was determined to help spark some romance in the man—even though he was German. Even a German could learn!
Karl smiled down at his sweet wife, so happy to see the excitement on her face when he came in. "I brought you a surprise!" he said, grinning at her.
"Oh really? And when do I get to see this surprise?" she asked, her hands on her hips in a playful manner.
"Close your eyes, and hold out your hands." He couldn't wait to give her the gift. Once her eyes were closed, he put the rug beater in her hands.
Sarah felt a long stick-like thing in her hands, touching it all over. He wouldn't have gotten her a broom, would he? Surely the man had more sense than that. "May I open my eyes now?" she asked, still holding out hope that he hadn't been as dense as she thought he'd been.
"Yes, open them." Karl took a step back, grinning as she opened her eyes and looked at the object in her hands.
"It's a—" Sarah couldn't force the word from her mouth. Did the man really think this was a good gift to give his wife?
"It's a rug beater!" Karl couldn't believe how well he'd done. His gift had left her speechless. "That's not all!"
"Oh, there couldn't possibly be more!" All Sarah could think about was using the rug beater to hit the man on the head. What was he thinking?
"There is! I almost got you a new washboard, but Mr. Fredericks said you'd bought yourself one." He brought his hand out from behind his back and handed her the new scrub brush.
Sarah took it with a smile. "Thank you for caring enough to buy me gifts, Karl. I'm glad you thought of me while you were gone." She put the scrub brush on the work table and the rug beater propped in the corner of the kitchen. "I'm certain I'll get much use out of both."
She pulled the roast she'd made for dinner out of the oven and carefully put it on a serving platter. When she realized he was watching her with a puzzled look, she said, "Wash your hands, Karl. It'll be time to eat in a minute or two."
Karl hurried to wash his hands before taking his seat at the table. The food all smelled delicious, and he was glad he'd thought to stop to get her gifts on his way home. "Thank you for working so hard for me, Sarah."
Sarah nodded, putting everything on the table before sliding into her chair at an angle from his. She put her hand into his and waited for him to pray over their meal. As soon as he was finished, she fixed their plates. "Everything smells delicious."
Sarah smiled, not sure how to respond. She was trying to be sweet-tempered and positive, but sh
e wanted to throw food in his face. Her Irish temper was sure to get the best of her with this obtuse man. "Thank you."
Karl tackled his food with enthusiasm, cleaning his plate twice, before leaning back in his chair and patting his stomach. It was only then that he realized she'd barely spoken throughout the meal. "Did I do something wrong, Sarah?"
"No, of course not," she said automatically, and then she took a deep breath. If she never told him what he was doing to hurt her, he would never change. How could he? "I expected a gift that was for me when you said you'd brought me something. Not cleaning supplies for the house." She looked at him to see how he was taking her criticism.
Karl frowned. "You're a practical woman. You've shown me how frugal you are. How could you want something else?"
She sighed. "Every woman wants to be spoiled and pampered by her man. Flowers would have been so much nicer. I would have put them on the table, and then dried them to help the house smell better when it's closed up all winter. It would have been beautiful but also practical. See?"
He shrugged. "I thought you'd want me to give you things that were needed. It never occurred to me that you would want something frivolous like flowers! Would you have wanted candy or jewelry?"
She nodded. "Every woman would. What you gave me was practical, but when a woman receives a gift, she wants something impractical that she'd never buy herself."
Karl sighed. "Mr. Fredericks told me that's what you'd want, but I didn't listen to him." He shook his head at her. "I'm sorry. You really would want flowers and candy and not stuff you can use?"
"Yes, I really would. I do thank you for thinking of me while you were gone, though."
"I guess I should have thought a little harder."
Sarah scooted her chair closer to his, and took his hand. "I thought about telling you that I loved it and going on, but I didn't think you wanted me to lie to you. Also, that type of gift will just continue to hurt my feelings if I don't say something, and you keep doing it. Better that it's out in the open now, right?"
Sarah: Bride of Minnesota (American Mail-Order Bride 32) Page 4