A Bride's Agreement

by Elaine Bonner

  “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 covered 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.

  Diedrich’s heart wen
t out to her. Remembering his trepidation during an especially rough storm at sea, he understood some of her fear. He reached across the table and gripped her hand, warm and small, trembling in his. The urge to round the table and take her into his arms and hold her close to him became almost suffocating.

  “You are safe.” The words seemed simplistic and woefully inadequate, but they were all he could think to say. Yet despite how feckless they sounded, those three words appeared sufficient. For as the sound subsided, rolling off into the distance, a measure of fear left her eyes.

  “Danke.” Drawing her hand from his, she glanced down, a self-conscious smile quivering on her lips.

  For several minutes, they ate in silence. When a bright flash of lightning that Diedrich knew would precede another clap of thunder lit the kitchen, he tried to think of something that would distract her from the coming noise. An idea struck, and he hurried to wash down his bite of venison and bread with a gulp of milk. “How do you say Blitz in English?”

  “Lightning,” she said around a bite of bread.

  “Lightning,” he repeated, and she nodded.

  Thunder rumbled, and she appeared to stiffen. She gripped her mug of milk so hard her fingers turned as white as its contents.

  Diedrich covered her hand with his to draw her attention back to him. “Donner. How do you say Donner?” If he could keep her distracted, maybe she would forget to be frightened.

  “Thunder.” Her voice trembled slightly, mimicking the sound outside as it dissipated and rolled away.

  “Thun–er.” Diedrich dragged out the enunciation, intentionally leaving out the d to keep her focused on teaching him the word.

  She smiled and giggled, a bright, almost musical sound. His heart bucked like Father’s prize bull the time Frederic was fool enough to climb on the animal’s back. “Nein.” She shook her head. “Thun–der.”

  “Thunder,” he managed to whisper, his racing heart robbing him of breath.

  The wind howled and assailed the kitchen window with a blast of rain.

  Regina glanced at the window. “Rain,” she said. “Regen is rain.”

  “Rain,” he repeated, glad to see that the fear had left her blue eyes.

  For the next several minutes they ate while taking turns coming up with words for her to translate into English. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled, but as they finished their food, she no longer seemed affected by the noise. Now fully engaged in the game, she appeared completely relaxed.

  “Scheune.” Her voice held a challenge as she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest.

  A desire to show off sparked in Diedrich. This was one of the few English words he had learned from Herr Seitz. Answering her smug look with one of his own, he locked his gaze with hers and said, “Barn. Scheune in English is barn.”

  “Ja!” The word burst from her mouth on a note of glee loud enough to rival the storm’s noise. Immediately, she clasped her hand over her mouth and cast a wide-eyed glance toward the doorway that led to the inner part of the house as if afraid she had woken their parents. When several seconds passed and no one appeared, a nervous-sounding little giggle erupted from behind her fingers. Rising, she gave him a self-conscious grin and gathered up their plates and mugs. “I think we should go back to our beds now before we wake our Eltern,” she whispered.

  Diedrich watched her move about the kitchen and his heart throbbed. I cannot lose my heart to this girl. I cannot! But his errant heart pranced on, scorning his censure. If only he knew she was safe, then maybe when autumn came he could leave for California with an unshackled heart. But that could not happen as long as Regina continued to court that brutish fellow, Eli. The concerns that had kept Diedrich awake rose up in his chest, demanding release. Somehow he must find the words to dissuade her from considering the scoundrel for a husband. Dear Lord, give me the words that would convince her to turn away from Eli Tanner.

  When she had returned the meat and bread to the pantry cabinet and closed the doors, Diedrich walked to her and took her hand in his. He chose his words with care, as if he were picking fruit for a queen.

  “Regina.” He gazed into her eyes, which sparkled like blue stars in the lamplight. At her expression of questioning trust, he nearly lost his nerve. His arms ached to hold her, but that wouldn’t do. Instead, he caressed the back of her hand with his thumb and swallowed to moisten his drying throat. “Regina,” he began again. “I do not know how well you know this fellow, Eli. But I do not think he is a good man. It is my opinion that you would be wise to consider—”

  “I did not ask for your opinion.” She yanked her hand from his grasp. “You know nothing of Eli or of me.” Her expression turned as stormy as the weather outside. “Just because your Vater and mine made a deal does not give you the right to tell me what I should do!”

  CHAPTER 9

  Regina stood in front of the dresser mirror and slipped another pin into the braid that crowned her head. A bright ray of morning sun dappled by the new leaves of the cottonwood tree outside her window speckled her hair with its light. Though vanity was a sin, she always liked to look her best for church. She fingered the snowy tatting that edged the collar of her blue frock. For reasons she couldn’t explain, she wanted to look especially nice today. Inspecting her reflection, she smoothed down all hints of wrinkles in her freshly washed and ironed Sunday frock. She couldn’t help thinking of Diedrich’s comment last Sunday when he helped her onto the family’s wagon for the trip to church. “With your golden hair and blue frock, you remind me of a summer sky.”

  Diedrich. There he was again. Always loitering on the fringes of her mind. More and more, she found herself thinking of him. Since the storm two nights ago, they hadn’t spoken again at length. At the realization, regret smote her heart. Many times she had wanted to apologize for lashing out at him, but somehow she had not found the right moment. He had obviously gotten the wrong impression of Eli when he saw them arguing in the barn and was just trying to protect her. But his words of caution, however carefully delivered, had touched the one nerve in Regina that everyone, including Eli, had lately rubbed raw. With the exception of her eldest sister, Sophie, who had always delighted in bossing her around, Regina had been allowed the freedom to make most of her own decisions in life. Now, suddenly, everyone seemed determined to wrest that control away from her. Papa, Mama, Herr Rothhaus, and even Eli, with his demands that she spend time alone with him at the coming barn raising, all wanted to tell her what to do. She had appreciated the fact that Diedrich had not treated her in a dictatorial manner but had shown her the respect due a friend and equal. So when he voiced his opinion of Eli, it was, as Mama often said, “the drop that makes the barrel overflow.”

  As she remembered how she had angrily stalked away from him after he had tried so hard to quell her fear during the storm, guilt gnawed at her conscience. Her mouth turned down in a frown. Ironically, their secret pact to not get married had formed a bond between them that never could have occurred had they agreed to their parents’ bargain. And now she feared she had broken that bond. She missed the easy friendliness she and Diedrich had enjoyed before she’d allowed her temper to shatter it. Oddly, her arguments with Eli had never bothered her as much as this one rift with Diedrich, possibly because she felt at fault. Though she instinctively sensed that Diedrich was not one to hold a grudge, she knew she would not be easy again until she had made amends with him. Still, she dreaded the encounter, which was sure to be awkward.

  So despite the sunny day, her mood remained clouded. She usually looked forward to attending Sunday morning church service and enjoyed Pastor Sauer’s sermons. But this morning she had to force her feet toward the stairs. Even anticipation of seeing friends like Anna Rieckers and Louisa Stuckwisch had not spurred her to dress more quickly. But Mama had already called up twice, warning Regina she’d be left behind if she didn’t come down soon, so she could delay no longer.

  When she reached the bottom step, her heart catapulted
to her throat and she froze. Dressed in his best with hat in hand, Diedrich stood near the back door. She hadn’t expected him to be waiting for her. Before she could say anything, he spoke.

  “Guten Morgen, Regina.” Though his lips remained unsmiling, his gentle gray gaze held no speck of grudge. If anything, his expression suggested apology. “The others have all gone out to the wagon, but I hoped we might speak alone.”

  “Guten Morgen, Diedrich.” Her throat went dry, making her words come out in a squeak. If she was going to make amends, now was the time. She opened her mouth.

  “Diedrich.”

  “Regina.”

  They spoke in near unison, and he smiled, dimpling the corner of his well-shaped mouth. “Bitte, you speak.”

  Shame drove her gaze from his face to the floor. “Verzeihst du mir. I should not have acted so rudely the other night.”

  “Nein.” Wonder edged his voice, and he took her hands in his. “It is I who should ask your forgiveness.” His thumbs caressed the backs of her hands as they had done during the storm, sending the same warm tingles up her arms. “You were right. It is not my place to say whom you should choose for friends.” He grinned. “I only hope you still count me among them.”

  Regina wanted to laugh with glee. She wanted to jump up and down and clap her hands like when she was small and Papa bought her a candy stick at the Dudleytown mercantile. She couldn’t say why, but knowing the friendship that had sprung up between her and Diedrich was still intact made her happy. But instead of embarrassing herself with childish antics, she smiled demurely and murmured, “Of course you are my friend.” Turning her face to hide her smile, she focused on reaching for her bonnet on a peg by the back door.

  He blew out a long breath as if he had been holding it. “Ich bin froh.”

  Glad. Yes, glad fit how Regina felt, too. She basked in his smile as he escorted her to the wagon where her parents and Herr Rothhaus sat waiting.