A Bride's Agreement

by Elaine Bonner

  “Tante Gina.” Henry bopped Regina on the head with the wooden spoon.

  She leaned away from the boy and rubbed the top of her head. “Henry, you must not do that.” But the giggle warbling through her voice seemed to render the scold ineffective.

  Laughing, Henry raised the spoon, poised to strike again, and Diedrich eased the utensil from the boy’s chubby fingers. “Nein, you must not hit your Tante.” He stifled a chuckle but couldn’t stop his grin.

  Whimpering, Henry squirmed harder in Regina’s arms. He reached out a grimy hand for the spoon—now safely in Diedrich’s possession—and made grabbing motions with his fingers.

  “Nein. You can only have the Löffel if you do not hit your Tante.” Diedrich fought to retain a stern face as he had done so many times when disciplining his own nieces and nephews. He prayed that this grubby cherub would one day become his nephew as well.

  Heaving a resigned sigh, Regina lowered the toddler back to the spot beneath the tree. “You might as well play there. I don’t think you can get any dirtier.”

  Chuckling, Diedrich handed the spoon back to Henry, who promptly used it to attack a cluster of tiny anthills.

  Regina turned a sweet smile to Diedrich. She put her hand on his bare forearm, sending pleasant tingles dancing over his skin. “I’m glad you found me. I hoped you would.”

  At her tender touch and longing gaze, Diedrich’s heart pounded out a quick tattoo like the triple-time cadence of a military drumbeat. He ached to hold her. Instead, he captured her hands. “I have missed you.”

  “And I have missed you.” Her blue eyes glistened up at his. Her soft, sweet lips—he knew how soft, he knew how sweet—tipped up in a sad smile.

  The yearning to take her in his arms and kiss her grew so powerful Diedrich could no longer resist it. Dropping her hands, he slipped his arms around her waist.

  She stepped back out of his embrace and a pained expression furrowed her delicate brow. “Papa said Herr Rothhaus has not yet relented.”

  “No, not yet.” At the admission, Diedrich swallowed down a bitter wad of regret. He recaptured her hands. “We must give Gott time to work, Liebling.”

  She nodded, but her gaze drifted from his to where Henry sat gleefully dispatching ants with his spoon.

  The dinner bell began to ring, signaling it was time for the workers to return to the fields and the threshing machine. At the sound, Diedrich and Regina exchanged a desperate look. They would likely not see one another for at least another week and a half when the threshers moved to the Seitz farm. A determination stronger than anything Diedrich had ever felt shot through him. He would not leave her without the taste of her kiss on his lips.

  He stepped toward her, praying she would accept his embrace. The next moment she surprised him by throwing her arms around his neck and pulling his face down to hers, now drenched in tears. For one blissful moment, nothing mattered to Diedrich but Regina’s sweet caresses. A resolve to be her unfailing champion solidified in his chest.

  With a sudden movement that jarred him back to reality, she let him go and stepped back away from him. “You must go. It would not be good if your Vater saw us together.” She glanced nervously from one end of the building to the other. Then she snatched up Henry and, ignoring the child’s whimpering complaints, turned and strode toward the back of the house.

  A whirlwind of emotions swirled through Diedrich as he watched her walk away. He must no longer sit passively by and wait for God to change his father’s heart and mind. Dear Lord, show me how to soften Father’s heart.

  With his prayer winging heavenward, he headed toward the east side of the house where the other men were gathering, some already making their way back to the wheat field. As he glanced around for his father, a familiar, knobby hand gripped his shoulder, turning him around.

  Father’s eyes sparked with excitement, and his whiskered face beamed. “Where have you been, Sohn? I have wunderbare news to tell you.”

  Diedrich ignored the question. “What news, Vater?”

  “The miller, Tanner, and his boy came for some bushels of last year’s wheat that Herr Entebrock needed to move out of his granary to make room for the new grain.”

  Diedrich shrugged. “Ja. That is good news, I suppose. There will be plenty of room in the granary for the new crop of wheat.” Could Father be entering his dotage at the age of fifty-six?

  Father chuckled and shook his head. “Nein. That is not the good news. Herr Tanner mentioned to Herr Entebrock that he is looking to hire an extra man to work at his mill.” He shrugged. “Sweeping up, seeing to the horses, those kinds of jobs.”

  Diedrich started walking toward the field, and Father fell into step beside him. “And did he find someone?”

  “Ja. Is that not exciting?” Father bounced along with an extra spring in his step.

  Diedrich grinned, indulging his parent’s odd merriment. “Ja, that is gut. The scriptures instruct us to rejoice with those who rejoice. But I do not see why Tanner’s success in finding a worker should be exciting to you.”

  Father stopped and took hold of Diedrich’s arm, compelling him to stop as well. “I did not say? Why, because I am the man he has hired, Sohn.”

  While Diedrich struggled to digest what Father had just told him, Father nudged his arm. “There they go now.” Grinning, he swung his arm in a wide arc as two men in a wagon passed them. Diedrich had not seen the older man before, but he had seen the younger one. It was Eli Tanner. And he was wearing a green shirt.

  CHAPTER 23

  Regina heard and smelled the town of Salem before she saw it. Tucked back in the stuffy confines of Sophie and Ezra’s Conestoga wagon, she could see little in front of their team of horses. The arched frame supporting the wagon’s canvas cover presented only a limited, thumbnail-shaped vista. But the noise of horse and wagon traffic, the halloos of passersby, and the smell of roasting meat told her they were finally nearing their destination. The distant sound of gunshots suggested some Fourth of July revelers had already begun their evening’s celebration.

  Leaning back against the wagon’s side, she stretched and yawned. Beside her, Henry remained sleeping on his pallet, his rosebud lips making popping sounds around the thumb he perpetually kept in his mouth. Gazing at the sleeping toddler, she smiled fondly. The child’s habit of sucking his thumb had built up a callus on the digit where his teeth constantly raked across the skin. At Mama’s insistence, Mama, Sophie, and Regina had started rubbing the boy’s thumb several times a day with bitter herbs to discourage his thumb-sucking habit. But for once, Regina didn’t begrudge Henry his familiar comfort. The thirty-mile trip from Sauers to Salem had been a taxing one. They had left home at dawn, and now the lengthening shadows told Regina it must be at least five in the afternoon. Aside from the half hour they had taken near Vallonia to eat their midday meal and feed and water the horses, they had kept up a punishing pace in order to arrive in Salem before nightfall.

  Ezra glanced over his shoulder into the wagon’s interior. “We are almost there, Regina. Better wake the boy.”

  Beside Ezra, Sophie’s shoulders rose and fell with her sigh. “Praise be to Gott! My whole body aches, and I am sure I must be bruised from bouncing for miles on this hard seat.”

  A moment before Ezra brought the horses to a stop, Regina had glimpsed the sign over William and Elsie’s store. Reaching out to gently rouse her sleeping nephew, she had to agree with Sophie. Yet despite the grueling journey, she was glad for the chance to get away from home for a couple of days.

  She had not originally planned to join Sophie and her family on their trip to visit Elsie and William. But after all that occurred at the Entebrocks’ threshing two days ago, she needed time away from Mama and Papa and their constant insistence that she should reinstate her engagement to Diedrich. So when Sophie invited her to join them, Regina had jumped at the offer, though she suspected Sophie mainly wanted her along to help care for Henry.

  But if she had hoped the trip would be a
respite from her thoughts of Diedrich and her worries about their relationship, she soon learned she was mistaken. On the contrary, the long hours in the back of the wagon had provided ample time for her mind to wander to Diedrich and their parting kiss. Her heart fluttered at the memory. But as precious as their few minutes together were, that tender moment had made their parting again all the more painful. And as long as Herr Rothhaus forbade their marriage, such stolen moments, however sweet, were futile. Perhaps that was why Diedrich had not initiated the kiss. A finger of disappointment squiggled through her. After witnessing the congenial scene between him and his father, she couldn’t help wondering if Diedrich had even mentioned her name again to Herr Rothhaus. Also, something about Diedrich’s attitude when he first appeared around the corner of the Entebrocks’ house bothered her. The way he had looked behind her and the suspicious tone in his voice when he asked who she had been talking with still rankled. For an instant, his demeanor had reminded her of Eli’s jealous behavior. In fact, she later heard that Eli and his father were at the Entebrock farm that afternoon, though she hadn’t seen them. Could Diedrich have imagined she’d spent time with Eli? At the memory of the kiss they shared, she dismissed the thought. Diedrich knew her heart.

  Waking, Henry whimpered and began to cry. Regret smote Regina, and she turned her full attention back to her young charge. Helping him to sit up, she patted his back. “It is all right, my sweet Junge. Are you ready to see your Onkel William and your Tante Elsie?”

  “I would say not.” Irritation edged Sophie’s voice from behind the wagon where she stood peering in at her little son. “With a soiled gown and diaper, you are not fit to see anyone, Henry. I would have thought your Tante Regina would have your diaper changed and a fresh gown on you by now.”

  Regina jerked. Lost in her own thoughts, she hadn’t noticed her sister climb down from the wagon seat and come around to the back of the Conestoga. She hurried to untie Henry’s soggy diaper and replaced it with a fresh one from the basket that held his clean clothes. She gave a little laugh. “I guess the wagon ride has made us both sleepy, hey, Henry?”

  While Regina dressed Henry, Sophie stood looking on, her arms folded over her chest. “Ezra has gone into the store to let William and Elsie know we have arrived.”

  Buttoning Henry’s fresh gown, Regina made funny faces until she had the toddler laughing. She couldn’t understand why Sophie always seemed eager to let Regina, their mother, or even Ezra tend to Henry. She gently brushed the sweat-damp curls from the child’s forehead. If God ever saw fit to give her such a sweet child, even Mama would have to beg to tend to him.

  Handing a freshly dressed Henry to his mother, Regina climbed out of the wagon.

  Sophie shifted the child to her hip, her mood seemingly as improved as her son’s. “I am so excited to see Elsie. And I do hope Ezra can get a job here at the wagon factory.”

  In her letter inviting them to Salem’s Fourth of July celebration, Elsie had mentioned that a new wagon factory had just opened for business here. Assuming they would need wheelwrights, William had suggested Ezra apply for a job. Of course, Ezra was eager to explore the possibility. Sophie, too, had gushed with excitement, saying how wonderful it would be to live near Elsie.

  Regina gave her sister an encouraging smile. “I’m praying for that, too.” And she meant it. At the same time, guilt tickled her conscience. Of course she genuinely wanted Sophie and her family to be financially secure and happy in a home of their own again. But she couldn’t deny that she also looked forward to them moving out of the home she shared with her parents. For the past three years, Regina had enjoyed a respite from her eldest sister’s criticisms and bossy ways. And though Sophie had treated her more kindly since moving back to the farm, she still had a tendency to get on Regina’s nerves. There was simply no denying that she and Sophie got along better with some distance between them. And though Salem wasn’t quite as far from Sauers as Vernon, it was a full day’s drive.

  Sophie leaned toward Regina. “I must say, I was surprised that Elsie seemed in such good spirits in her letter.” She shook her head sorrowfully. “Poor Elsie. Maybe seeing Henry will cheer her after her”—she glanced around as if to assure herself no one else was within earshot and lowered her voice to a whisper—“miscarriage.”

  Regina groaned inwardly. “I am sure Elsie will love getting to see Henry again, but you don’t need to whisper, Sophie. Elsie had a miscarriage, not some sort of unmentionable disease.” Why was Sophie so prudish about such things? Even when she was expecting Henry, it had taken her a full five months to admit she was in the family way. And then, she might have waited until the child’s birth to reveal her happy news if Mama hadn’t mentioned during one of the couple’s visits that Sophie seemed to have gained weight since her wedding. At Mama’s comment, Sophie had turned beet red. Then, taking Mama aside, she had privately whispered she was in the family way. Regina grinned, remembering how she and Elsie had jumped up and down upon learning of the coming blessed event. Clapping their hands, they had chanted, “Baby, baby, we are going to have a baby!” until their mortified sister turned purple-faced and begged them to hush.

  Sophie reddened and glanced around again. “Well, of course she didn’t have a disease. But one must be discreet when mentioning”—she lowered her voice again—“women’s problems.”

  Regina stifled a giggle at Sophie’s priggish attitude. She was tempted to say that Elsie’s miscarriage was not strictly a “woman’s problem” since William had suffered the loss of a child as well. But antagonizing Sophie would not make for a good start to their Independence Day celebration.

  At that moment, Elsie popped out of the store and came bounding toward them, her arms outstretched and happy tears glistening on her smiling face. It did Regina’s heart good to see her sister’s healthy glow.

  Elsie hurried to hug Regina first. “Regina, I’m so glad you came, too!” Taking Regina’s hands, she bounced on the balls of her feet and giggled. “I was so happy to get your letter saying your Diedrich chose you over California.”

  Regina returned Elsie’s hug and gave her a tepid smile. Several times she had thought to write Elsie again and share all that had happened since Diedrich’s declaration of love. But she couldn’t bring herself to reveal in a letter the jarring news of learning about her adoption and the trouble it had caused for her and Diedrich. “I am glad to see you looking so well, Schwester.”

  Fortunately, in her exuberance, Elsie didn’t seem to notice Regina’s abrupt change of subject and immediately turned to hug Sophie and Henry. Easing Henry from Sophie’s arms, Elsie swung her little nephew up in the air, making him giggle. “My, Henry, you have grown into such a big Junge since I last saw you!”

  Regina smiled. Maybe Sophie was right. Seeing Henry did seem to cheer Elsie.

  Perching Henry on her hip, Elsie headed for the store. “Come, Schwestern. While William and Ezra are gone to check on that wheelwright job for Ezra, we can catch up on all our news, and you can both help me prepare our picnic meal for later. Then when the men return, we can head to the Barnetts’ farm for the pig roast and later the fireworks.” Turning to Henry, her eyes grew big. “Do you want to see the fireworks, Henry?”

  Henry nodded enthusiastically and clapped his hands, though Regina was sure the little boy hadn’t the first notion what fireworks were.

  A few minutes later, the three sisters were chatting away in Elsie’s little kitchen as they assembled the picnic meal. Regina’s recent familiarity with the room allowed her to work with speed and confidence, while Sophie fumbled through drawers and shelves, constantly asking direction from Elsie.

  Bouncing Henry on her hip, Elsie moved about the kitchen offering her sisters one-handed assistance with the preparations. She stepped to the table where Regina stood mixing together the ingredients for potato salad and peered over her shoulder. “Mmm, that Kartoffelsalat smells wunderbar, Regina.”

  Sophie turned from poking around in the shelves of Els
ie’s cabinet. Her face pinched up in a look of annoyance. “I am sure she makes potato salad exactly the way Mama taught us all to make it, Elsie.” Her voice, if not exactly derisive, was as flat and dry as an unbuttered pancake.

  “Perhaps.” Elsie picked a snickerdoodle cookie from a basket on the table and handed it to Henry, who had begun to fuss. “But you should have tasted the broth she made for me when I was abed. Of the three of us, I do think Regina has most inherited Mama’s gift for cooking.”

  Sophie turned from the cabinet. “But she’s not—” If Regina didn’t know better, she might have interpreted the quirk at the corner of Sophie’s lips as a sneer. “Oh, you do not know, do you, Elsie?”

  “Know what?” Elsie’s expectant smile swung between Sophie and Regina.

  Anger and dismay leapt in Regina’s chest at Sophie’s thoughtlessness. This was not the way she had wanted to tell Elsie what their mother had disclosed about Regina’s birth. But she was determined that Elsie would hear it from her lips, not Sophie’s.

  Blowing out a resolute breath, Regina pulled a chair out from the table. “You should sit down for what I must tell you, Elsie.”

  With a quizzical look on her face, Elsie sat. Henry wriggled from her grasp and slid to the floor then toddled across the room to his mother. Elsie gave a nervous giggle. “What could you possibly have to tell me that I must sit to hear?” Suddenly her brown eyes grew large, and her voice turned breathless. “You are not married already, are you?”

  Regina shook her head and gave her sister a sad smile. “Nein. I only wish that was the news I have to tell.” Swallowing down the lump that had gathered in her throat, she recounted the fantastic tale Mama had told her when they had worked together on Regina’s wedding quilt.