A Bride's Agreement

by Elaine Bonner

  Suddenly the coach came to a jarring halt, jolting him from his prayerful petition. Through the coach window, he could make out the front of a large white house. Apprehension knotted in his stomach. They had arrived. As he gazed at the building before him, he still could not help marveling at the size of the houses here in America. Though some were small and crudely made of logs, many others, like the one framed by the coach’s window, were far larger and either made of brick or sided with thin planks of wood called clapboards. At least the Seitz home would have plenty of room for him and Father.

  Sitting up straight, Father blinked and yawned. He stretched his arms as far as the coach’s low ceiling allowed. “Why are we stopping?”

  “I think we have come to the end of our journey.” Diedrich had scarcely gotten the words out of his mouth when the coach driver opened the door at his elbow. Diedrich climbed out first, followed by Father, while their fellow passengers exited by the opposite door.

  Back on the ground, Diedrich stretched his legs and arms. Though he did not look forward to the meeting that would soon take place inside the house before him, he was glad to leave the cramped quarters of the conveyance behind him. Coaches were clearly not built for the comfort of people Diedrich’s height.

  “Come on up to the porch, folks.” The driver closed the coach door and ushered everyone up to the house’s front porch. He balled his fist as if to rap on the door, but before he could, it opened, and Diedrich’s jaw went slack.

  A pleasant-faced young woman stood in the doorway. Though not stunning in looks, she was by no means ugly. In fact, the only remarkable thing about her was her distended middle, which clearly revealed she was in the family way.

  Diedrich’s heart plummeted. So it wasn’t that Herr Seitz desired a German farmer for a son-in-law; he simply needed a husband for his daughter. Anger coiled in his midsection. Had he and Father endured an excruciating journey of two and a half months to now be played for fools?

  He glanced at Father, whose wide-eyed expression reflected his own shock.

  “Guten Tag.” The girl dipped her head in greeting then stepped back to allow her guests entrance. “Please come in.” She ushered them into a spacious room furnished with several benches and chairs, some arranged on either side of a large fireplace.

  Motioning for everyone to sit down, she began speaking rapidly in English. As he had in countless other such situations since his arrival in America, Diedrich caught only an occasional word. “Coffee” and “bread” suggested they would be offered food. The next moment a man of about thirty years entered the room from the house’s interior.

  The young woman smiled up at the man, who now stood beside her and rested his hand on her shoulder. Again the woman spoke and Diedrich understood only two of her words, but they were the most important ones: “Husband” and “Gerhart.”

  The coach driver spoke to the man and nodded toward Diedrich and Father, who sat together on one of the benches that flanked the fireplace. This time, the word “Deutsch” caught Diedrich’s attention.

  The man smiled and nodded. He stepped toward them, and Diedrich and his father rose. “Guten Tag,” he said, reaching his hand out to each man in turn. “I am Gerhart Driehaus, and you have already met my wife, Maria.” He cast a smile in the woman’s direction as she waddled out of the room. “I understand you wish to go to the home of Herr Ernst Seitz.”

  “Ja,” Diedrich and his father said in unison. As Father made the introductions, relief spilled through Diedrich, followed quickly by remorse for having mentally maligned their benefactor. Though he still planned to avoid marrying the man’s daughter—or anyone else for that matter—he was glad to have no evidence that Herr Seitz had been dishonest with them.

  Herr Driehaus cocked his head southward. “The Seitz farm is but two miles from here. Rest and enjoy some coffee and Maria’s good bread and jelly while I hitch my team to the wagon. Then I will take you there.”

  Diedrich and his father uttered words of thanks. What a joy to converse again in their native tongue with someone besides each other—something they’d done little of since leaving the German community in Cincinnati.

  Fifteen minutes later the coach departed the Driehaus home with the other passengers, leaving Diedrich and his father behind. Refreshed by steaming cups of coffee and light bread slathered with butter and grape jelly, Diedrich hoisted their little trunk into the back of Gerhart Driehaus’s two-seater wagon. Father sat in front with Herr Driehaus while Diedrich took the backseat.

  Soon they left the main thoroughfare and headed south down a hilly road. In places, the mud was so thick and the ruts so deep and filled with water that Diedrich feared the wagon would become bogged down. But the four sturdy Percherons plodded along, keeping them moving.

  As they bounced along, splashing in and out of ruts, Herr Driehaus pointed out neighboring farms, and he and Father talked about crops and weather. The sun had come out again, causing the raindrops on tender new foliage to sparkle like diamonds. The clean scent of the rain-washed air held a tinge of perfume from various flowering bushes and trees. Suddenly the notion of living in this place didn’t seem so bad to Diedrich, at least through the spring and summer. But if he didn’t want to live here for the rest of his life, he would have to be as quick and agile as the little rust-breasted bird that just flew from a purple-blossomed tree along the roadway, showering Diedrich with raindrops.

  “We have come to the home of Herr Seitz.” With the announcement, Herr Driehaus turned the team down a narrow lane as muddy as the road they’d left. At the end of it stood a neat, two-story house with a barn and several other outbuildings surrounding it. Though just as large, this house, unlike the Driehaus home, was constructed of thick hewn logs, weathered to a silvery gray. A large weeping willow tree stood in the front yard. Bent branches sporting new pale green leaves swayed in the breeze, caressing the lush grass beneath.

  Despite the serene beauty of the scene before him, a knot of trepidation tightened in Diedrich’s gut. In a few moments, he would come face-to-face with the girl who expected to soon become his wife.

  The lane wound between the house and the barn, and Herr Driehaus finally brought the wagon to a stop at the side of the house. They climbed to the ground, but as they stepped toward the house, a shrill scream from somewhere behind them shattered the tranquil silence.

  They all turned at the sound. When Diedrich located the source of the noise, his eyes popped. A mud-covered figure emerged from the thick mire of the fenced-in barn lot. Only her mud-encased skirts identified her as female. She took a labored step forward, and her foot made a sucking sound as she pulled it out of the mud. But when she tried to take another step, she fell onto her knees again, back into the thick pool of muck. Emitting another strangled scream, she glanced over her shoulder. It was then that Diedrich noticed a large, dark bull not ten feet behind her. With his snout to the ground, the animal made huffing noises as he pawed the mire, sending showers of mud flying. The bull obviously didn’t like anyone invading his domain.

  Terror for the hapless female gripped Diedrich. In another moment, the great animal would be on her, butting and tramping her into the mud. Casting aside his coat and hat, he raced headlong toward the barn lot.

  CHAPTER 3

  H–help!” Regina struggled to pull her foot from the thick, black mud. But the harder she tried, the deeper she sank. Her heart pounding in her ears, she glanced over her shoulder at Papa’s bull, Stark. The huge dark beast had trotted to within feet of her. With his head lowered, he snorted and pawed at the sodden ground. His big eyes, dark and malicious, fixed her with an unwavering glare. What would it feel like when his head struck her like a giant boulder? Would she feel the pain when his horns pierced her body and his sharp hooves slashed at her flesh? Or would the first butt of his mighty head have already sent her to heaven where the scriptures told her there was no pain?

  Determined not to learn the answers to the questions flashing in her mind, she managed to pull
enough air into her fear-paralyzed lungs to let out another scream. Where was Eli? Couldn’t he hear her? As perturbed as she had been that he’d surprised her in the barn after she had explicitly told him to stay away, the knowledge of his nearness helped to quell her growing panic. Surely he would hear her calls and come to her rescue.

  The ground shook as Stark trotted closer. It almost seemed a game to the bull, like a cat that had cornered a mouse.

  Finding strength she didn’t know she had, Regina pulled one foot from the black ooze, but the other foot refused to budge, and she fell face forward again in the muck. Pushing herself up with her palms, she came up spitting unspeakable filth. If Eli had already left, maybe she could get Papa’s attention. Mustering all her lung power, she let out another strangled scream.

  Suddenly, she looked up to see a tall, broad-shouldered figure racing toward her. Clean shaven and lithe, the man was definitely not Papa… or Eli. Instead, she got the impression of gentle gray eyes that reminded her of soft, warm flannel, filled with concern. Straight brown hair fell across his broad forehead and his strong jaw was set in a look of determination.

  Relief spilled through Regina as the stranger scooped her up in his arms. Murmuring reassurances, he ran with her toward the barn lot’s open gate. The next several seconds passed in a series of sensory flashes. The clean scent of shaving soap filled her nose as she rested her face against his hard chest. Against her ear, she heard the deep, quick thumping of his heart like the muffled beats of a distant drum. The sound of his voice, rich and deep, uttered words of assurance as he strode toward the house, cradling her securely in his strong arms.

  At the back door, he set her gently on her feet before Mama, whose face registered an ever-changing mixture of shock, fear, horror, and dismay. Gingerly grasping Regina’s mud-drenched shoulders, Mama uttered unintelligible laments in tones that reflected the varied emotions flitting across her face.

  Glancing over her shoulder, Regina managed to catch a parting glimpse of her rescuer before Mama whisked her into the house. Now covered in the mud she had deposited on him, he stood stock still, his kind gray eyes regarding her with wonder and concern.

  A half hour later, Regina slid down in the copper tub and groaned. The clean, hot water into which Mama had shaved pieces of lye soap was now tepid and brown from mud and other unpleasant things on which Regina didn’t care to speculate. If not for the grimy contents of the bathwater, she might be tempted to slip beneath the surface and not come up.

  She shivered, remembering the angry look on the bull’s face. Countless times she had taken that same shortcut from the barn to the house without any such mishap. But in her desperation to keep Papa from discovering her and Eli together in the barn, she hadn’t considered that the rain had turned the barn lot into one huge mud puddle.

  She scowled at a sliver of straw turning lazy circles atop the scummy surface of the water. It was all Papa’s fault. If Eli were allowed to court her in the open instead of having to sneak around and surprise her in the barn like he did today, she wouldn’t be sitting in the bathtub in the middle of the week washing off unspeakable filth. She wouldn’t have had to disappoint Eli by missing the Dudleytown box supper last Saturday. She also wouldn’t have had to tell him of Papa’s plans to marry her off to a stranger. She had expected Eli to be unhappy and perhaps even angry at her news. But she hadn’t expected him to demand she elope with him right away.

  She sighed. For the past week, she had prayed for God to deliver her from the plans Papa and Herr Rothhaus were making for her future. And though a part of her longed to give in to Eli’s demands, she couldn’t believe God would want her to run away without a word to her parents. Such an impulsive action would doubtless break their hearts. Perhaps that was why God hadn’t allowed her to give Eli an answer. For at that moment they’d heard the sound of a wagon approaching. Sure that Papa had returned from his trip to Dudleytown, she had instructed Eli to hide in the barn until the wagon was out of sight while she headed to the house through the barn lot.

  She ran the glob of soap over her wet hair, working up a lather. On the other hand, by not leaving with Eli, she may have missed a window of escape God had opened for an instant. At least then she wouldn’t be trapped in her upstairs bedroom, washing off barnyard muck in preparation for meeting the man Papa had chosen to be her future husband.

  At the thought, her cheeks tingled with warmth. In truth, she may have already met him. Diedrich Rothhaus. Was it possible that the man with the strong arms and kind gray eyes was the one to whom Papa had promised her? Her heart did an odd hop. For days now, she had dreaded his coming. Nearly every night she drenched her pillow with her tears, praying that God would cause the man to decide to stay in Baltimore or Cincinnati—anywhere but here in Sauers.

  The fractured memory of her rescuer flashed again in her mind. She tried to assemble the bits and pieces into a clear picture, but they refused to come into focus. Yet she knew without a doubt that the man she had left covered in mud at the back door did not fit the picture of the Diedrich Rothhaus she had conjured up in her apprehensive imaginings. But of one thing she was sure. The stranger who had carried her to the house spoke German.

  “Du bist jetzt sicher.” Yes. The words he had spoken so gently, assuring her of her safety, were not English words but German.

  The door opened a crack and Mama slipped into the room with Regina’s best dress draped over her arm. Her face, pruned up in a look of dismay, did not bode well for Regina. “I have brought your Sunday frock.” Her voice held the stiff tone that always preceded a scolding.

  Laying the dress and a bundle of small clothes on Regina’s bed, she stepped to the side of the tub and shook her head. “I still cannot imagine what you were doing in that barn lot. You know how muddy it gets when it rains. And how many times has your Vater warned you to stay away from that bull? I cannot bear to think what might have happened if Stark had got to you.” Her voice cracked with emotion, smiting Regina with remorse. “I thank Gott He sent that brave young man to save you.” She pulled the ever-present handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her watery eyes. “If not for Diedrich Rothhaus, we might be having a funeral instead of planning a wedding.”

  Regina groaned inwardly. So the man who rescued her was the man Papa had chosen for her husband. Her pulse quickened, but she forced her attention back to her mother, who, though stronger than most women Regina knew, did tend to be overemotional at times. “It is sorry I am, Mama. I did not think—”

  “And you are usually such a thoughtful Mädchen.” Shaking her head, Mama sniffed back tears, obviously not finished with her rant. “And as thankful as I am that young Rothhaus was there to get you away from the bull, how embarrassing that the first time your intended sets eyes on you, you are covered in mud!” She shook her head again and pressed her hand to her chest. “When I told your Vater what happened, I thought he would collapse right there in the kitchen. And he might have, but he did not wish to embarrass our family any further in front of Diedrich and Herr Rothhaus.”

  Diedrich. If only she could form a clear image of him in her mind. But it didn’t matter what he looked like, or even that he had rescued her. The question remained—who would rescue her from him?

  Mama helped Regina out of the tub and wrapped her in a cotton towel. “Poor Diedrich,” her lamentations continued. “By the time he handed you to me, he was nearly as muddy as you were. Your Vater is helping him to wash and change into the spare set of clothes he brought with him.” As Mama’s voice grew more frustrated, she rubbed the towel over Regina’s skin harder than necessary.

  “Ouch!” Regina snatched the towel from her mother’s grasp and stepped away. When would Mama and Papa stop treating her like a child? “I’m not a Kind, Mama. I can dry myself.” At the hurt look on Mama’s face, guilt nipped at Regina’s conscience. Mama meant well, and besides embarrassing her and Papa in front of the Rothhauses, Regina had given her parents a terrible fright. She sighed, and her tone refle
cted her penance. “I am sorry I fell in the mud and what’s-his-name had to pull me out.” Though by now Regina knew the man’s given name as well as her own, she couldn’t bring herself to say it. “But I am not the one who asked him to come. And as I have been telling you and Papa for the past week, I do not want to get married! Especially to someone I have never met.”

  Mama cocked her head. Some of her earlier anger seemed to seep away, and she gave Regina a caring, indulgent smile. “I know this is happening very fast for you, Regina. But you know that your Vater and I want the best for you, and the Rothhauses are good people. Once you get used to the idea, I am sure you will be happy.” Her smile turned to a teasing grin. “After all, you must marry someone, and Diedrich is very handsome. And he must have a brave and good heart to have gone in there with that bull to carry you to safety.”

  Or he is just very stupid. Regina decided to keep that thought to herself as she stepped into her bloomers and pulled her petticoats over her head.

  Mama walked to the dresser and picked up Regina’s hairbrush. “Do you want me to brush and plait your hair? We want to show your intended and his Vater how very pretty you are when you are clean.”

  Mama might as well have run her fingernails across a slate board for the way her comment sent irritation rasping down Regina’s spine. The thought of parading in front of Diedrich Rothhaus like a mare he considered buying was beyond irksome. But at the same time, Mama’s words planted the seed of a plan in Regina’s mind. A plan that nurtured a tiny glimmer of hope inside her. Perhaps falling in the mud was not such a bad thing. Maybe it was part of God’s plan to rescue her from a loveless marriage.