A Bride's Agreement

by Elaine Bonner

  Regina’s scalp tingled in the ominous way it often did before a storm. With fright building in her chest, she held out the square of cloth that trembled in her shaking fingers. “Mama, what is this cloth?”

  A tear slipped down Mama’s cheek. “It is from the swaddling blanket you were wrapped in when your mother gave you to me.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Well Sohn, we shall have a nice warm home, I think.” Smiling, Father turned a slow circle in the center of the house’s main room and eyed their handiwork.

  Diedrich tugged on the ladder he’d just nailed against the loft to test its sturdiness and gave a solemn nod. In a little over a month, they had cleared an acre of land and built on it a twenty-two-by-thirty-foot log home with a full loft. Though his head told him that what he, Father, and Herr Seitz had accomplished on the house in six weeks’ time was more than impressive, he still wished he could present Regina with something grander.

  Father ambled to the east end of the room. There, he cast a studious gaze at the rough-hewn wall and stroked the graying whiskers that covered his chin. “Now, I think, we should begin work on furniture for our home. Ernst explained how is made the beds called wall peg that are built against the wall.” He sent Diedrich a sly grin accompanied by a wink. “You and your bride will need a good strong bed for sure, hey?”

  Heat shot up Diedrich’s neck and suffused his face. “Vater!” Since that blessed evening when he and Regina had declared their love for each other, his intended had set up court in his mind and heart. Waking or sleeping, not a moment passed that he didn’t find her lingering sweetly on his mind. He had enough trouble keeping his thoughts from straying beyond korrekt boundaries. He did not need Father’s teasing comments making the task more difficult.

  Father leaned his head back and roared in mirth. “It is only the truth I am saying.”

  He crossed to Diedrich and gave him a good-natured clap on the shoulder. “Your bride, too, will want stark furniture. After dinner, I think, we will begin to build the bed.”

  Diedrich glanced at the wedge of sunlight angled across the puncheon floor through the open southerly door. He nodded. “Sehr gut, Vater. My stomach as well as the sun tells me it is time we should head back to the Seitzes’ kitchen for dinner.” The instant the words were out of his mouth, Diedrich groaned under his breath. The way Father liked to tease him about Regina, he was liable to ask if Diedrich’s stomach was the only part of him nudging him back to Regina’s home. But Father only grinned and followed Diedrich out of the house, keeping all other thoughts on the subject to himself.

  Outside, Diedrich closed the front door to keep out any small animals that might be enticed by the shade to amble in while he and Father were gone. Then, stepping back away from the building, he allowed himself a parting look at the house. His and Regina’s home. The thought filled him with joy and a yearning for the day he would carry his love into their new home. His gaze roved over the two-story building. The front door, situated exactly in the center of the south wall, was flanked by a window on each side. One let light into the large room that would serve as their front room and bedroom. The other brought light into the kitchen. Directly above those were two more windows cut under the eaves, allowing daylight into the loft. Eventually, he would build a proper staircase up to the second story. There, God willing, he would have need to fashion bedrooms for his and Regina’s sons and daughters. His gaze slid down the house’s plain front facade. He also would build a long porch with a roof above it so that Regina could sit in the shade and sew, shell peas from her garden, or pare apples from the trees he would plant. Then another, even sweeter image assembled itself in his mind, and his heart throbbed with longing. How clearly he could see her sitting there on the front porch, rocking their first child against her breast while a summer zephyr played with a strand of her golden hair and ruffled the soft, pale fuzz of their babe’s head.

  Yes, Father was right. It was a good, sturdy house—a house he could be proud of.

  At that moment, Herr Seitz appeared from the cornfield that faced the house. He had spent the morning cultivating the green stalks now chest high. Unfamiliar with the crop in his old home of Venne, Diedrich liked the plants with their feathery tassels and long, drooping tapered leaves that whispered softly as the summer breeze rustled through them. Even more, he liked the prospect of the grain that would provide them with cornmeal to make the tasty yellow bread Regina and her mother served at nearly every meal.

  As Diedrich bounced along in the back of the wagon, anticipation built in both his stomach and his heart. He could scarcely wait to see Regina again. Her sweet smiles fed his spirit like her good cooking fed his stomach.

  But when they finally arrived at the house, he was surprised when she didn’t meet him at the back door as she often did. As he waited his turn at the washstand inside the back door, he inclined his ear, listening for her voice. But instead of hearing her normally cheerful tone as she conversed with her mother, he caught only an occasional unintelligible word mumbled in a flat monotone. At the sound, a grain of concern planted itself in his chest and quickly grew to a niggling worry. Back in April, Pastor Sauer had advised Diedrich to learn Regina’s heart. This he had done. He had come to know Regina’s heart well enough for him to sense when something was not right with her. When he finally entered the kitchen, her downcast expression confirmed his suspicions. Frau Seitz also seemed distant and somewhat glum. Had mother and daughter had some kind of an argument? Diedrich could hardly imagine it. Even when Regina had initially rejected her parents’ plans for her and Diedrich to marry, she had never, to Diedrich’s knowledge, dishonored them with a cross word.

  At the table, he tried to engage her in conversation about the progress he and Father had made on the house this morning. But despite his best efforts, he could scarcely evoke the smallest smile from her. And even when she did smile, it didn’t reach her lovely blue eyes, which today reminded him more of a faded chambray shirt than a cloudless summer sky. Clearly something troubled her. And though he sensed he was not the cause of her melancholy mood, the thought brought him only a measure of relief. He was gripped by a profound need to know what had stolen her joy and a strong determination to do whatever was in his power to restore her happiness. He would not go back to work on their new home until he’d seen things set right with Regina.

  After the meal, Father and Herr Seitz went to the front room to let their meals settle and discuss the work on the log house. Diedrich stayed in the kitchen, quietly watching Regina and her mother tidy up after the meal. Watching them work together, Diedrich grew more bewildered over Regina’s odd demeanor. He could detect no anger or tension between Regina and her mother.

  When the last dish had been washed, dried, and put away, Diedrich rose. Stepping toward the two women, he held his hand out to Regina while addressing her mother. “Frau Seitz, may I have your permission to take Regina for a walk?” Frau nodded. “Ja, it is sehr gut that you talk.” Regina took his hand, and for the first time since he came in for dinner, she gave him the sweet smile he’d come to expect—the smile that felt like a caress.

  Her face a somber mask, the usually undemonstrative Frau Seitz gave Regina a quick hug. She and Regina exchanged a look Diedrich couldn’t decipher. Then she said something very odd. “You are my daughter, liebes Mädchen. Do not forget that.”

  Regina’s eyes welled with tears that gouged at Diedrich’s heart. She gave her mother a brave smile and whispered, “I know, Mama.”

  At once, curiosity and concern twined around Diedrich’s heart like the wild vines that sprang up among the cornstalks. The moment he and Regina stepped outside, he was tempted to stop and insist she tell him what was the matter. But better judgment counseled him to wait. To his surprise, she spoke first.

  “Diedrich, let us go see the garden. Our potato plants are flowering now. We should have new potatoes to fry soon.” Her voice still sounded sad and distant. Taking his hand, she led him to the bench beside the house that
overlooked the garden. Regina was right. The plants looked robust and healthy. The memory of the day they had planted the potato crop together came back to Diedrich and in an odd way reinforced the bond he felt with her.

  When they had settled themselves on the bench, a large tear escaped her left eye. For a moment it clung to the golden fringe of her lower lashes, glistening in the sunlight like a dewdrop. Then a blink dislodged it, sending it to the rose-pink apple of her cheek to meander down her face.

  Diedrich could bear it no longer. Placing his finger beneath her chin, he gently turned her face to his. “Regina, please tell me, what is the matter? Have I done something to upset you?”

  Her wide-eyed look of surprise washed him with relief. “No, mein Liebling, it is not you.” Then, turning away from him again, she hung her head and focused on her hands clasped in her lap. “I—I am not who you think I am. I am not who I thought I was.”

  The last strands of Diedrich’s patience frayed. He had no more interest in puzzles or guessing games. Gently grasping her shoulders, he turned her to him. “Regina, what is this nonsense you are saying? In less than three months we shall be married. You must tell me now what is troubling you.”

  Her chin quivered, smiting him with regret. “This morning Mama told me that she did not give birth to me.”

  “What?” Diedrich had never met a kinder, more caring Christian woman than Frau Seitz. He couldn’t imagine her saying something so hurtful to her child… unless it was true. And if it was, why had she waited until now to tell Regina? But if it were true, Frau Seitz’s odd comment earlier asking Regina not to forget that she was her daughter began to make sense.

  Regina sniffed and drew in a ragged breath. “We were piecing together my wedding quilt.” Quirking a smile, she blushed prettily, making his heart canter. “When I found a piece of material I didn’t recognize, Mama’s face looked so terrible I thought she was having an attack of apoplexy.” Her voice turned breathless at her remembered alarm. She went on to tell him how her mother claimed it was from the blanket Regina was wrapped in when her birth mother gave her away.

  “But who was your real mother, and why would she give you away?” Now Diedrich fully understood Regina’s discomposure. He, too, struggled to assimilate the revelation. His heart broke for his beloved. He couldn’t imagine how it must feel to learn something so shocking.

  Regina sniffed again, and Diedrich had to force himself not to pull her into his arms and comfort her against him. But he sensed that she needed to tell this, and he needed to hear it. “Mama said I was born on the boat from Bremen to Baltimore to a couple named Eva and Hermann Zichwolff.”

  “But they didn’t want you?” The thought, which seemed incredible to Diedrich, angered him.

  Another tear tracked down Regina’s face. “Mama said there was much sickness on the ship. Not everyone who left Bremen lived to see America.”

  Diedrich nodded. He knew he and Father were very fortunate that during their voyage to America the Franziska had experienced no losses.

  Regina kept her gaze fixed on her hands, which she wrung in her lap. “My Vater… my natural Vater.” She stumbled on the words as if she couldn’t believe she was saying them. “He died two weeks before I was born and they buried him at sea. A few days after I was born, Mama also gave birth to a baby girl.” She shook her head sadly, and her voice took a somber dip. “But her baby lived only a few hours.” After pausing to draw in a fortifying breath, Regina continued. “When they docked in Baltimore, many of the German immigrants were taken into homes of German-speaking people there. Eva, the woman who gave birth to me, spoke passable English. Not having a husband to take care of her and… me, she began looking for domestic work. Mama said Eva was given the opportunity to work for a very wealthy Baltimore family. But the family said she could not bring me.” Regina shrugged. “Eva remembered that Mama had lost her child and would be able to provide me with nourishment, so she took me to her.”

  Smiling bravely through her tears, Regina patted her chest. “Mama’s heart still hurt very much after losing her baby girl. She told me that when she took me as her own, it helped to soothe that hurt.” She dabbed at her tear-drenched face with her apron hem. “Mama did say Eva cried when she gave me away.”

  Diedrich’s heart bled for everyone involved, but mostly for Regina. He grappled for words that might bring her comfort. Gently stroking her arms from shoulder to elbow, he finally said, “I would say Gott has blessed you doubly. He gave you to a birth mother who cared enough to find you good, loving parents when she couldn’t keep you. Then He not only gave you a wonderful Mama and Papa but two sisters as well.”

  More tears flooded down Regina’s face. “You do not mind, then, that I was born Regina Zichwolff?”

  Diedrich grinned. “Your name could be Regina Schlammpfütze and I would love you just the same.” Giving her the surname of Mudpuddle reminded him of the first time he set eyes on her, and he couldn’t help a chuckle. She giggled through her tears, making him wonder if perhaps they were sharing the same memory.

  Then, turning serious, he cupped her face in his hands and gazed deeply into her lovely cerulean eyes. “It is sorry I am, mein Liebchen, that you have had such a shock today.” He brushed away her newest tears with his thumbs. “But it makes no difference to me or the life we will soon have together.” Then he smiled as another revelation struck. “Except that if your life had not happened as it did, I would not have you here in my arms. I think, even then, while Gott was taking care of you, He was also thinking of a four-year-old boy named Diedrich in Venne, Hanover.”

  This brought a smile to her lips, and he had to kiss them, lingering perhaps a moment or two longer than might be considered proper. When he finally forced himself to let her go, she smiled, and her eyes opened slowly as if from a pleasant dream. “I do love you, Diedrich,” she murmured.

  He had to kiss her again. He finally left her humming happily in the garden as she checked for potatoes big enough to harvest. Though he was stunned by what he had learned, Diedrich’s heart was full. He prayed that his love would always be sufficient to vanquish every sadness in Regina’s life as well as nurture her every joy.

  When he stepped into the house in search of Father and Herr Seitz, Frau Seitz informed him that Father had already headed back to the new house and Herr Seitz had gone to check the maturity of the wheat crop. She grinned. “They did not want to disturb your talk with Regina.”

  With a quick word of thanks he turned to leave, but Frau Seitz took hold of his arm, halting him. “How—how is Regina?” Concern dulled her brown eyes and etched her forehead.

  Diedrich smiled and squeezed her hand. Thinking of what this woman had meant to Regina and all she had done for her over the years, he wanted to thank her. Instead, he said, “Regina is happy that Gott has blessed her with a wonderful Mutter and Vater.”

  Frau Seitz’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. She patted his hand. “And Gott will bless her soon with a wonderful husband.”

  Giving Frau Seitz an appreciative nod, he headed for the back forty acres and the new house. Father had taken the wagon and team, so Diedrich would have to either hitch the little gypsy pony to its cart or walk. Since it was a pleasant day and his spirits were high, he decided to make the nearly two-mile trek on foot.

  As he walked, he remembered the name of Regina’s birth parents. Herr Seitz had said many of their fellow passengers on the boat they had taken to America were also from Venne. He must ask Father if he knew of the name Hermann Zichwolff.

  When he stepped into the house, Father turned from pounding a peg into the narrow gap between two logs on the east wall. He angled a grin toward Diedrich. “I was wondering if you would come back to help me with this bed, or if you had decided to spend the rest of the day holding hands with your Liebchen.”

  At his father’s glib comment, Diedrich experienced a flash of anger. But Father had no knowledge of the emotional turmoil Regina had endured today.

  Diedrich w
alked to his father. “Regina learned something upsetting today. I did not wish to leave her until her heart had calmed.” He then shared with his father what Regina had told him.

  An odd, almost wary look crossed Father’s face. “So of whose blood is she?”

  Diedrich couldn’t imagine why Father would care. “Do you know the name Hermann Zichwolff? He and his wife, Eva, were Regina’s natural parents.”

  Father’s face blanched so pale it looked as if it were covered in flour. Then his face turned to a shade of red so deep it became almost purple. In all his life, Diedrich had never seen his father in a rage. But no other word fit the look of fury that twisted his father’s features into someone Diedrich didn’t recognize.

  Balling his fists, Father fixed Diedrich with a murderous glare, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. “I forbid you to marry that girl! As long as I am alive, I swear it will not happen!”

  CHAPTER 17

  Disbelief, confusion, and pain swirled in Diedrich’s chest like a cyclone. In all his twenty-one years, he had never raised his voice to his father in anger or spoken an insolent word to him. But at this moment, it took all his strength of will not to do both. He strained to hold his raging temper in check, his tense muscles twitching with the effort.

  Three stilted strides brought him to his father. He held out his hands palms up in a helpless gesture. “Why, Vater? Why would you say such a thing? Was it not for me to marry Regina that we came across the ocean to America?”

  Some of the anger seemed to drain from Father’s face, and a glimmer of regret flashed in his eyes. He blew out a long breath as if to regain control of his emotions. His expression begged understanding. In a measured voice he said, “I know you have grown fond of the Mädchen, Sohn, but—”

  “Fond?” Diedrich almost spat the word then chased it with a mirthless laugh. “Fond, Father?” He tapped his chest so hard he expected to later find it bruised. “I love Regina with all my heart. You yourself heard me declare it, did you not?”