A Bride's Agreement

by Elaine Bonner

  CHAPTER 22

  Coward. The word echoed in Diedrich’s head as if hollered down a well. He bent and scooped up an armful of ripe wheat. Snagging another handful of the cut grain from the field, he absently wound slender stalks around the bundle he held in the crook of his arm, making a sheaf. Pitching the sheaf into the waiting wagon, he glanced up at the morning sky. Blue. Blue as Regina’s eyes. The wheat reminded him of her hair. His heart ached to its very center.

  Pausing, he dragged off his hat and ran his forearm across his sweaty brow. He glanced across the wheat field dotted with workers toward the Entebrock farmhouse situated beyond the barn. He could barely make out the white clapboard structure half hidden by several large maple trees that surrounded it. Somewhere in the kitchen, Regina worked with the other women of Sauers, preparing the noon meal. The moment he and Father arrived this morning, Diedrich began searching for her face among the gathering crowd. But just as he caught a glimpse of her climbing down from the Seitzes’ wagon with her mother and sister, Father had stepped to his side and steered him toward Herr Entebrock’s new Whitman thresher, eager to show him the workings of the machine.

  Coward. Diedrich loathed the thought of branding himself with such an onerous label. Yet what else could he call himself when he had allowed the fear of his father’s ire to keep him from the woman he loved?

  He pitched another bundle of wheat toward the wagon with such force it almost sailed over it. Saturday evening when Father found the map on which Diedrich had drawn the route to the California goldfields and vowed the two of them should go, Diedrich had not disputed him. Not once since reconciling with Father had he stated outright that he still wanted to marry Regina. Instead, by his silence, he had allowed Father to think he had abandoned the notion of ever making her his wife. Although he realized the prudence of keeping his own counsel and not risking an argument and possibly another estrangement from Father, his reticence felt ignoble.

  Anger and shame twisted in his gut like the straws he twisted around another bundle of wheat. “Coward.” This time, he mumbled the word aloud in a guttural growl that sounded to his own ears like the snarl of a wounded animal. Surely the word fit his actions yesterday at church.

  For days he had looked forward to Sunday and the opportunity to see Regina again. The two weeks Diedrich and his father were estranged, Father had not attended St. John’s Church. He had even rejected Pastor Sauer’s and Ernst Seitz’s efforts to speak to him about his hard feelings toward Herr Seitz. So it had come as somewhat of a surprise when Father announced that he would be accompanying Diedrich to services.

  Remembering his dismay at learning he would not be attending services alone, guilt nipped at Diedrich’s conscience. Although glad that Father would be in the Lord’s house, he had hoped for an uninhibited opportunity to speak with Regina. Instead, he and Regina were forced to hide their affection for each other when in Father’s sight. They had managed to exchange a precious few sweet glances during the service and later across the churchyard. The memory of those tender looks filleted Diedrich’s heart.

  But at least the pastor’s sermon on forgiving neighbors seemed to have some positive effect on both Father and Herr Seitz. Immediately following the service, Herr Seitz had approached Father and asked his forgiveness. He vowed he had never intended to trick or defraud Father or Diedrich in any way. And claiming no knowledge of Father’s feud with the Zichwolffs, he explained that having raised Regina from infancy, he had simply always considered her his daughter. Father had grudgingly accepted Herr Seitz’s explanation and handshake, and the men had parted; if not exactly friends, then at least not sworn enemies.

  At the sight, hope had sparked in Diedrich’s chest that Herr Seitz might have actually cracked the wall of malice Father had built against Regina. But while Father forgave Herr Seitz for not divulging Regina’s heritage, he had made it clear he still could not sanction a marriage between Diedrich and Regina. At that statement, Diedrich had seen anger flash in Herr Seitz’s eyes—anger that had matched Diedrich’s own emotion at Father’s words. Yet both he and Regina’s father had failed to champion her in voice. Diedrich understood Herr Seitz’s reluctance to cause a row in the churchyard while his family and neighbors were within earshot. Diedrich, too, was hesitant to jeopardize the two men’s fledgling reconciliation.

  Diedrich’s heart writhed in anguish and shame. Still, he should have gone to her as he’d wanted, taken her in his arms, and declared his love for her in front of Father and the entire congregation. He should have shouted his intentions to make her his wife regardless of the consequences.

  In fact, he had tried to sneak a moment with her while Father was busy talking with the Entebrock men on the other side of the churchyard. But before he approached the spot where she’d stood huddled with her mother, sister, and Anna Rieckers, she had glanced up and spied him coming. Her face had blanched then turned crimson. Frowning, she had shaken her head and turned her back to him. She might as well have buried a knife to the hilt in his heart. But as much as it hurt to see her spurn him, he knew she was right. Antagonizing Father at this juncture would gain them nothing and would likely destroy any hope of earning his blessing.

  How Diedrich wished that he and Regina could simply elope as young Tanner had tried to entice her to do at the barn raising. The thought of making her his wife and whisking her away from all impediments to their happiness was almost intoxicating. It reminded him of a poem Mama used to read to him when he was little. The German translation of a Scottish ballad, the poem told of a knight named Lochinvar, who stole away his lady love from beneath the noses of those who would keep them apart.

  He crushed another armful of wheat against him so hard he heard the stalks snap. Was he courageous enough to do anything so gallant? But even if he was, he knew Regina would never agree to leave behind her parents or this place she loved so well.

  Blowing out a long breath, he tied another sheaf and slung it into the wagon. So far, he had failed Regina. He had failed them both.

  A hard hand came down on his shoulder from behind. “Surely you are not already winded, Sohn.” Father’s chortle rasped down Diedrich’s spine like a wood file. While Diedrich’s mood had vastly deteriorated over the past week, Father’s had greatly improved, especially since he began making plans for them to leave Sauers for California.

  Reminding himself of the wise saying “A steady drip carves the stone,” Diedrich forced a tepid smile. Though Father’s heart had turned to stone toward Regina, Diedrich was determined to wear it down. And he would accomplish that only in little drips, not in one deluge.

  Regina carried a large bowl of mashed potatoes to one of the trestle tables set up in the Entebrocks’ yard. As she had done countless times today, she scanned the slice of field beyond the barn for Diedrich. But the distance was too great to discern the features of the workers who looked like moving specks on the pale background of the wheat field.

  Heaving a sigh, she set the bowl on the table with a thud. What good would it do her to see Diedrich when she couldn’t talk to him, touch him? None. How bittersweet to see him from a distance yet know that for him to come any closer would be to risk further angering Herr Rothhaus. Had she not tortured her heart enough yesterday at church?

  When she had seen Papa and Herr Rothhaus talking and shaking hands in the churchyard, her heart had leapt in her chest. For one blessed moment, she’d thought surely Herr Rothhaus had repented and all would be well. But later, Papa’s glum face had told her before his words that it was not the case.

  Tears filled her eyes at the memory of her disappointment. Papa’s cross demeanor later had not helped. All the way home he had scolded her for what he deemed her impulsive act of prematurely breaking off her engagement to Diedrich. Papa argued that if she and Diedrich had stood firm and shown their determination to marry, Herr Rothhaus would more quickly relent. He contended that since he and Mama continued to bless the union, it would put pressure on Herr Rothhaus to do the same. Though
she saw some merit in Papa’s argument, she still felt in her heart she had taken the correct route. Yet her longing to speak openly to Diedrich—to touch him—had grown so palpable that the temptation to acquiesce to Papa’s wishes had been strong. Only Sophie’s whispered encouragements to stay her course had given Regina the strength to remain resolute.

  The sound of women’s voices behind Regina jolted her from her reverie. In a moment, someone would ring the dinner bell and the men, including Diedrich, would head in from the fields. Her heart quickened at the thought. Hopefully the two of them could find a moment together away from Herr Rothhaus’s sight.

  “We have made a lot of good food, hey, Tochter?” Mama’s bright voice broke into Regina’s thoughts. “I must be sure to tell Diedrich that you and Sophie made the cherry pies.”

  Managing a sad smile, Regina turned and hugged her mother. Despite the many times she had begged her not to blame herself, she knew Mama still harbored guilt for her role in causing the trouble between their family and Herr Rothhaus. “Danke, Mama. I do think the pies turned out very nice.”

  Mama’s expression and voice softened. “Regina.” She took Regina’s hand and gave it a pat. “Keep trusting in Gott and praying.” Her brown eyes glistened with welling tears. “Your Vater is right, you know. Gott has bound your heart with Diedrich’s. It is wrong of Herr Rothhaus to withhold his blessing for selfish reasons. And if we pray, I am sure in time he will see he is wrong.” She gave her a coaxing smile. “Today, I think, would be a wunderbare time to tell Diedrich that you want again to be his Verlobte.”

  Regina sighed. She saw nothing to be gained in plowing this same ground all over again, but Mama seemed determined to do so. “Mama, did you not always tell me two wrongs do not a right make?” She took her mother’s hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. “You know I love Diedrich and want to one day become his wife. You also know I pray every day Herr Rothhaus will repent and accept me as his Schwiegertochter.” She hated the fresh tears welling in her eyes. “But what if he stays stubborn and will not change his mind? Would you have me wait until the day of our wedding to break our engagement?”

  Mama shook her head. “Of course not. But the harvest is three months away. There is plenty of time for Gott to change Herr Rothhaus’s mind.”

  Regina stifled the urge to scream. She must find a way to make Mama understand the folly in her and Papa’s thinking without being disrespectful. “And it is only on how to help bring that about that we disagree, Mama. I love you and Papa, and I have always obeyed you. But to my thinking, remaining engaged to Diedrich without his Vater’s blessing makes no more sense than if I would try to hitch Gypsy to the back of her cart instead of the front and ask her to push it rather than pull it. And Sophie agrees with me—”

  The clanging of the dinner bell cut off Regina’s words. When it had stilled, Mama glanced at the throng of women bustling about the tables, placing the last dishes before the men arrived. A look of consternation crossed her face. “We shall talk about this again later, Tochter.” She patted Regina’s hand again. “But I am believing Gott will hear our prayers and make a way for you and Diedrich to marry.” Her countenance and her voice turned stern. “And my faith is strong enough to believe Gott can do that with you and Diedrich engaged just as easily as if you were not.” With a brisk nod, she stepped away to relieve Helena Entebrock of one of the two pitchers of lemonade in her hands.

  The jangling of teams and wagons brought Regina’s gaze up to the barn and the wheat field beyond. On foot and wagon, the men began streaming around the west corner of Herr Entebrock’s barn toward the house. Regina’s heart quickened as she scanned the male faces for Diedrich’s. When she found him, her heart skipped. Walking beside his father, he lifted his head and laughed then clapped his father on the back. Obviously, father and son had shared a joke. At the sight, Regina’s heart throbbed painfully, and her resolve deepened. She prayed Mama was right, and God would soon change Herr Rothhaus’s feelings about her. But despite her parents’ wishes and her own yearning to reinstate her engagement to Diedrich, she couldn’t risk causing another rift between Diedrich and his father.

  Poking his fork beneath the golden layer of flaky piecrust, Diedrich snagged a cherry. He popped the fruit in his mouth and glanced down the long row of tables situated in the shade of four sprawling maple trees, praying he might catch Regina’s eye. But he could no longer find her face among the women hovering around the table and assisting the diners. Disappointment dragged down his shoulders. By now most of the men had finished their main meal and, like him, had moved on to the desserts. Several of the women had begun carrying stacks of dirty dishes back into the house. Regina must have joined them when he wasn’t looking.

  Savoring the dessert, he couldn’t help a secret smile, knowing Regina had helped to make it. The pie reminded him of her, both sweet and tart. Like yesterday at church, she’d kept her distance from him today. And again, they’d only managed to exchange a few smiles and glances. But he was glad, at least, that her mother had found a moment to stop him on the way to the dessert table and mention that Regina and her sister had made the cherry pies. Hopefully he would get a chance to compliment her on them before he had to head back to work.

  Emitting a contented sigh, Father pushed back his chair. “That pie looks sehr schmackhaft, Sohn. I think maybe I will have a piece myself.” Chuckling, he patted his stomach. “That is, if I can find an empty spot to put it in.”

  Diedrich pushed another bite of pie into his mouth to hide his grin. If Father knew Regina had made the pie, he wouldn’t touch it. A flash of mischief he couldn’t resist struck. “Ja, Father, you must taste the pie. Be sure to get a piece of the cherry. I know it is your favorite, and I have never tasted a better piece of cherry pie than this one.” Knowing he spoke the truth helped to assuage his guilt for the trickery.

  While Father headed to the dessert table, Diedrich gathered up their dirty dishes. He would risk being teased for doing women’s work for a chance to see and maybe even speak to Regina.

  Stepping into the house, he poked his head through the kitchen door. A blast of heat almost as intense as that from a forge slammed him in the face, nearly taking his breath away. Giving the room a cursory perusal, he could not find Regina among the shifting swarm of females squeezed into the small, stifling space. As hot a job as he and the other men had out in the field, Diedrich didn’t envy these women their task. He would much rather be outside where at least he could catch a passing breeze to cool the sweat from his brow. It amazed him that anyone could breathe in here, let alone produce the wonderful meal he had helped to consume. Beyond that, the cacophony of chattering female voices resembled the buzz of a giant nest of angry hornets. After only a minute or so, his head began to pound from the racket.

  Thankfully, he and Frau Seitz caught sight of each other at the same time. Somehow she squeezed through the crazy quilt of moving skirts and made her way to where he stood at the kitchen door.

  He handed her the pile of dishes. “I would like to speak with Regina. Do you know where I might find her?”

  Smiling, she pushed a sweat-drenched lock of brown hair from her forehead. “Ja. Henry was fussing, so she took him outside to show him some kittens. On the west side of the house, I think.”

  “Danke.” He nodded his thanks and turned to go, but she grasped his arm, halting him. Her smile had vanished, and her expression held an odd mixture of sadness and hope. “Diedrich, Herr Seitz and I are praying you will yet become our Sohn.”

  “Danke, Frau Seitz. I am praying the same.” Emotion thickening his voice, he gave her a quick hug then left before he embarrassed himself. Less than three months ago, he had prayed he might avoid becoming this woman’s Schwiegersohn. Now to one day become her son-in-law was his fondest wish.

  Outside, he hurried toward the west side of the house, his heart keeping pace with his quickened steps. As he approached the corner of the building, he heard Regina’s unmistakable giggle. “Do not do t
hat. You know better.” Another giggle. “No, you are getting no Küsse. Now away with you.”

  Her words stopped him cold. For a moment he stood frozen as hurt and anger twisted in a putrid wad of jealousy in his chest. To whom could she be talking so sweetly and playfully denying kisses? Then he grinned at his own foolishness. Frau Seitz said she had taken Henry outside to play. She was obviously talking with her little nephew.

  But when he rounded the corner of the house, his heart jolted. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a male figure disappearing around the other end of the building. All that registered was a flash of auburn hair and a green shirt. Who had worn a green shirt today? His mind raced. He couldn’t think.

  “Diedrich.” Regina’s breathless voice yanked his attention from the now vacant end of the house to her flushed face. Her eyes were wide. Her hair had come loose from its pins and dangled in two braids on her shoulders.

  “Who was here? I heard you talking with someone.” Diedrich tried to keep his voice light but couldn’t prevent an accusatory tone from creeping in.

  She glanced over her shoulder. Did he imagine the flash of guilt in her eyes? “No one is here but me and Henry.” No hint of guile tainted her voice, helping to ease the suspicious thoughts fermenting in Diedrich’s mind. She walked over to where the toddler sat beneath a maple tree, digging in a loose patch of soil with a wooden spoon. A liberal amount of the dark, sandy dirt covered the little boy’s face and hands, as well as his white cotton gown.

  “No, Henry. I told you, do not do that. Your Mutti will be angry with both of us for letting you get so dirty.” Regina’s laugh sounded a tinge nervous as she picked up the squirming child and swiped uselessly at the dirt and grass stains on his gown.

  At her admonishment, remorse smote Diedrich’s heart. Her chiding words to Henry now nearly matched what Diedrich had heard her say a moment ago. She had obviously been talking only to the child. Even her mention of kisses made perfect sense in the light of rational thought. As much as Regina loved her little nephew, Diedrich doubted she would have wanted the imp to kiss her until she could wash his face and hands. Shame sizzled through Diedrich for his uncharitable thoughts. He understood now what Solomon meant when he wrote in the sixth chapter of Proverbs, “For jealousy is the rage of a man.”