A Bride's Agreement

by Elaine Bonner

  Gripping the bottom of the bucket, she slung the contents toward the chicken coop, scattering the vegetable peelings over the barren patch of ground. The chickens, which at first squawked and fled the barrage, batting their snowy wings in fright, now returned to greedily peck at the offering. Like the chickens, was Regina, too, unaware of what was good for her? Had God intentionally thrown up the impediment of her birth family to prevent her and Diedrich from marrying?

  Her heart rebelled at the thought. Again she dragged out the question now worn and tattered from constant mulling. If God was against their love, then why did He bring Diedrich here to Sauers in the first place? And why, even against Regina’s and Diedrich’s own wills, did God allow their hearts to fuse so tightly?

  She glanced up at the sky, lightening now to a pale blue as the sun faded the deep pink and purple hues of the waning dawn. “Dear Lord, why have You visited this heartache on me and Diedrich? Are You testing our faith as Mama, Papa, and Diedrich think, or are You telling us we should not marry?”

  No answer came. Only the clucking of the chickens and the rustling of the maple trees’ leaves stirred by a gentle breeze disturbed the quiet.

  Heaving a weary sigh, she started back to the house, her Holzschuhe scuffing through the wet grass. How she longed for Elsie’s levelheaded and unbiased counsel. Although Regina had enjoyed her time in Salem with Elsie and William, there had been no time for her and her middle sister to talk alone at length. But Elsie was thirty miles away. Perhaps she should talk to Sophie again. Although her eldest sister had made her opinion on the matter clear, she had on several occasions offered Regina a sympathetic ear. In fact, it still surprised Regina how interested Sophie seemed in Regina and Diedrich’s situation. Perhaps it was the mellowing influences of marriage and motherhood, but for whatever reason, Sophie actually seemed to care about Regina and her future. After all, Sophie’s advice had strengthened Regina’s resolve, preventing her from giving in to Diedrich’s pleas to reinstate their engagement. If nothing else, maybe Sophie could help ease Regina’s mind about her decision yesterday.

  As she approached the house, the sound of voices reached her ears. Another couple of steps and she was able to identify the voices as belonging to Sophie and Ezra. Glancing up, she realized she was standing beneath the upstairs bedroom that had, until recently, been hers. The morning air was obviously still heavy enough to carry the couple’s decidedly intense conversation beyond the room’s open window.

  Not wanting to eavesdrop on what sounded like a spat between her sister and brother-in-law, Regina started to step away. But her sister’s caustic tone of voice halted her.

  “She is not even my blood sister! I tell you, Ezra, it is not right that that little pretender and a man who has been in the country less than three months should inherit Papa’s land!” Sophie’s words and resentful tone slashed Regina like a knife.

  “You know your pa wants the land to go to a German farmer, Sophie. I am neither.” Ezra’s voice held a note of frayed patience.

  Sophie snorted. “That is your problem, Ezra. Your view is too narrow. Look, we have a son—Mama and Papa’s blood grandson. It is Henry who should inherit this farm, not two people who have no blood claim.”

  Despite the warm July morning, an icy chill shot through Regina. She’d always known Sophie was not especially fond of her, but the vitriol in her sister’s voice stunned her. So that was why Sophie was so emphatic that Regina should not reinstate her engagement. Her positive comments about Eli as well as her criticisms of Diedrich began to make sense.

  Brokenhearted at her sister’s greed and ugly words, Regina wanted to slink away, but the sound of Sophie’s voice again kept her rooted to the spot.

  “Eli Tanner assured me that Herr Rothhaus will never allow his son to marry Regina. So all we have to do is plant the idea in Papa’s mind that there is no hope of a marriage between Regina and Diedrich Rothhaus, and that Papa would be far wiser to will the land to us to keep for Henry—Papa’s blood grandson.”

  “But next week we’ll be movin’ to Will’s ma’s house in Salem so I can begin my new job. What good will this farm here in Sauers do us when we’re clear down in Salem?”

  Sophie huffed. “It is like you have blinders on, Ezra! You said yourself that job might not last. This land should be my birthright, and it will be here. Think. You could start your own wheelwright shop in the barn. Eventually we could even sell off some acreage and build a proper house—a big one like we had in Vernon. You could own your own business again. And when Henry gets old enough, he could help you.” Her tone turned sweet, cajoling. “Barnes and Son, Wheelwrights. It has a good sound, I think. Don’t you want that one day, mein Liebchen?”

  “Yeah, reckon I would, honey.” Ezra’s tone turned thoughtful then playful. “But I think Barnes and Sons, Wheelwrights, sounds even better.” A soft chuckle.

  Silence, then Sophie’s giggle.

  Regina’s imagination supplied what she could not see. Her stomach churned at her sister’s conniving treachery. Mama and Papa had taken in Sophie and Ezra when they were destitute. Now the couple conspired to use their baby son to steal her parents’ homestead. Regina felt sick.

  Moving as quietly as her wooden shoes and trembling legs allowed, she rounded the house then sprinted to the barn. There she searched and found an empty burlap sack and a shovel. Her parents and Diedrich were right. The time for inaction had passed. Regina needed to step out in faith and trust God with the rest.

  Kneeling on the new porch floor, Diedrich took the nail dangling from his lips and pounded it into the next board. With the Seitzes’ wheat crop threshed, cleaned, and stored and the corn crop months away from harvest, he’d decided this would be a good time to begin work on a porch for the new house.

  Reaching in his shirt pocket for another couple of nails, he paused and took a moment to look behind him and assess his morning’s work. Redolent with the smell of newly cut poplar, the porch extended two-thirds the length of the house’s front. Washed in the morning sun, the boards gleamed like gold.

  Gold. His heart contracted. The word reminded him of his angry parting words to Regina yesterday. The hurt in her blue eyes still haunted him. He shook his head to obliterate the memory then lifted another board from the pile on the ground beside him and fitted it into place. She still loved him. He saw it in her eyes and felt it in her touch. She wanted to marry him as much as he wanted to marry her. He glanced up at the front of the house. His heart told him she, too, longed for them to have a future here together. Why could she not see that as long as they remained formally uncommitted, they only encouraged Father’s stubbornness?

  He pressed the point of a nail into the board in front of him then wielded the hammer and drove the nailhead flush with two powerful blows. But the exertion could not expel the anger and frustration roiling inside him. Despite telling Regina that he might leave for California in the spring, he knew it was a lie. As long as she still loved him, he could not leave. He felt trapped—unable to move forward, unable to move backward. The image of the Israelites gathered on the shores of the Red Sea came to mind. Diedrich understood how they must have felt with Pharaoh’s army behind them and the impassable waters before them. Regina’s love tethered him to Sauers. But until God provided a miracle and moved the impediment of Father’s stubborn determination to cling to a decades-old grudge, Diedrich’s life remained in limbo. Just as God provided a way for the children of Israel, Diedrich prayed He would grant Diedrich and Regina a like miracle.

  At the distant sound of an approaching conveyance, he turned his attention to the dirt path that ran between the house and Herr Seitz’s cornfield. Father must be coming home early from his work at the mill for the noonday meal. As usual, emotions warred in Diedrich’s chest at the thought of his parent. Every night Diedrich prayed the next day would be the one in which God stirred Father’s heart to cast off his old rancor for the Zichwolffs and embrace both forgiveness and Regina. Yet each day brought only disappo
intment.

  As the sound grew louder, the head of the animal pulling the approaching conveyance appeared over the gentle rise in the road. Diedrich’s heart quickened, matching the lively pace of Regina’s shaggy little pony’s feet kicking up clouds of dust. Not since the day Diedrich told Regina of Father’s opposition to their marriage had she attempted to visit the new house.

  Standing, he dropped the hammer to the porch floor with a clatter. Could there have been an accident on the Seitz farm? At the thought, he hastened his steps toward the cart as she reined in the pony.

  “Regina.” Reaching up, he helped her down, reveling in the touch of his hands on her waist. His arms ached to embrace her, to hold her against him and never let her go. But with no one else here, that would not be proper. And by the intense look on her face, he sensed she had come on a mission. “Is something amiss? Has there been an accident?”

  “Nein.” A bright smile bloomed on her face, dispelling his fears. Walking to the back of the pony cart, she lifted out a burlap sack and handed it to him.

  Accepting the sack, he grinned. “What is this?” Since Father adamantly refused any food from the Seitzes’ kitchen, Regina and her mother had stopped offering. So the sack’s lumpy contents, which looked suspiciously like potatoes, surprised him. His curiosity piqued, he glanced inside. Sure enough, a dozen or so nice-sized new potatoes filled the bottom quarter of the sack. “Potatoes,” he said unnecessarily.

  “Our potatoes,” she said with a grin. “We planted these together, and they have flourished, just as the love I believe Gott planted in our hearts for each other that same day has flourished.”

  She placed her hand over his, and Diedrich’s heart caught with his breath. Did he dare believe the miracle he’d been praying for was unfolding before his eyes?

  “Diedrich.” Her eyes searched his. “Like the scriptures tell us in Galatians, ‘Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.’ Gott sowed the good seeds of love in our hearts. And since we nurtured them and they grew, I believe our love is of Gott, and He will bless the harvest.” She pressed her lips together and cocked her head, her eyes turning sad. “I am sorry that your Vater has decided to nurture the bad seeds of hate and bitterness. I continue to pray he will finally see how hurtful they are to him as well as to us and hoe them out of his heart. But until that day, he must reap what he has sown.” She glanced down, and when she looked back up, her smile turned sheepish. “You were right. I need to show Gott I trust Him more. Today I will begin to do that. You asked me yesterday to reinstate our engagement. I am ready to do that now—that is, if you still want to marry me.”

  Diedrich fought to suppress the jubilation exploding inside him like the fireworks some of the neighbors had set off last week. Grinning, he put one arm around her and tugged her to his side. A flash of mischief sparked by his unquenchable joy gripped him. “Of course I want to marry you. But you must say again what you just said.”

  She gave him a puzzled grin, her eyes glinting with fun. “And what was it I said that you would like to hear again?”

  “That I was right. I fear it may be the only time I ever hear you say those words to me.”

  Giggling, she gave him a playful smack on the arm, and his resistance crumbled. He dropped the sack of potatoes to the ground and pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Somewhere in the midst of his bliss, he thought he heard the roar of a sea parting.

  “Diedrich!”

  At the angry voice, Diedrich and Regina sprang apart. Together they turned to see Father striding toward them, his face purple with rage.

  CHAPTER 26

  What is this?” Herr Rothhaus’s angry glower swung between Diedrich and Regina. “I thought you were done with this Zichwolff pup, Diedrich.” Regina felt Diedrich tense. He took a half step forward as if to shield her from his father’s wrath. Yet his arm remained firmly around her waist, helping to still her trembling body.

  “Be very careful, Vater.” Diedrich’s voice, low and taut, revealed his barely controlled anger. “Regina is my future wife. I will not allow anyone, not even you, to speak to her with disrespect.”

  Herr Rothhaus’s fists balled and a bulging vein throbbed at his temple. Regina’s nightmare had become real. Would father and son come to blows over her? Dear Lord, don’t let it happen.

  Now Herr Rothhaus focused his glare on Diedrich alone. “But you told me the two of you were no longer engaged. Have you then been lying to me all this time?”

  Diedrich’s back stiffened. “I have never lied to you, Vater. Regina did break our engagement. And it was for your sake she broke it. As I have told you, my love for her has not changed.” He looked down at Regina, and the barest hint of a smile touched his lips. His voice softened with his tender gaze. “It never has, and it never will.”

  Confusion relaxed the older man’s rage-crumpled face. “You call her your future wife. How can that be if you are no longer betrothed?”

  Diedrich’s arm tightened around Regina’s waist, pulling her closer. “She has finally agreed with me that reinstating our engagement may be the only way to bring you to your senses.”

  Herr Rothhaus’s face contorted, turning myriad shades of red and purple. Regina feared he might collapse in a fit of apoplexy. He glared at Diedrich, his gray eyes bulging nearly out of his head. “My senses? My senses?” His voice climbed in a crescendo of anger. “You go behind my back and defy my wishes and now have the audacity to suggest I am not in my right mind? It is you, I think, who have lost your senses!” His murderous glare shifted to Regina. “She is a Zichwolff! I told you what they did to our family. And still you are content to let this Jezebel Zichwolff lure you into a marriage that would mingle our family’s blood with that of her reprobate Vater and Großvater?”

  Diedrich let go of Regina and strode toward his father. “Enough, Vater!”

  True terror gripped Regina. Dear Lord, stop this! Please, Lord, intercede. She clutched at Diedrich’s arm, but he shook off her hand and focused his fury on his father.

  Diedrich’s arms stiffened at his sides, and his fists clenched. His face came within inches of his father’s. “From my earliest days, you and Mama taught me the scriptures. Whenever my brothers and I argued or were unkind to each other, you quoted the words of our Lord, teaching us forgiveness.” His arms shot out to the sides, his fingers splayed, while his body visibly shook with emotion. “How, Vater? How could you teach us Christ’s words concerning forgiveness when your heart was filled with hate and unforgiveness?”

  A look of shame flashed across Herr Rothhaus’s face, but his defiant stance did not budge. He rose on the balls of his feet until he stood almost as tall as his son. His eyes blazed with anger. “You dare to call me a hypocrite? You insolent pup!”

  In one sudden movement, Diedrich spun on his heel and bounded to the porch then disappeared in the house. For a second, the fear that had gripped Regina eased. Had Diedrich left to cool his temper? But her ebbing trepidation flooded back as she found herself alone to face Herr Rothhaus’s angry glare. The thought struck that she should climb into the pony cart and head for home. But before she could move, Diedrich shot out the front door, his Bible in hand.

  He stomped to his father and waved the book in his face. “Matthew 5:44. ‘But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.’ Matthew 6:14 and 15. ‘For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you: But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.’ Mark 11:25. ‘And when ye stand praying, forgive, if ye have ought against any: that your Father also which is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses.’” He smacked the book’s leather cover, and Regina jumped at the sharp report that split the air like a rifle shot. “I memorized them just as you taught me to do, Vater. I have tried all my life to live by these words, and I thought you tried to live by them, too. Now I find I am wrong. These w
ords mean nothing to you.”

  In a flash, Herr Rothhaus reached out and struck Diedrich’s cheek with the flat of his hand. Regina gasped. Diedrich’s whole body seemed to shudder, but he held his ground. She was glad she stood behind him and could not see his face. But she could see Herr Rothhaus’s. And for a fraction of a second, the older man’s expression registered shock at his own impulsive action.

  For a moment, Herr Rothhaus’s eyes glistened but quickly dried and turned stone-hard again. “I am your Vater! I never allowed you to disrespect me when you were growing up, and I will not allow it now.” He shook his fist in Diedrich’s face. “I will not tolerate being judged or called a hypocrite by my own Sohn!”

  “I call you nothing but Vater.” Diedrich’s voice cracked, and his shoulders slumped. “I have bent over backward to remain respectful while you shattered my life and Regina’s life with a laugh and a shrug. I do not stand in judgment of you. I will let Gott and your own heart do that.” His voice sagged with his posture as his anger seemed to seep away, replaced by sadness. Pressing the Bible into his father’s hands, he turned, and Regina’s heart broke. His gray eyes held a vacant look, and three angry red streaks brightened his left cheek.

  As Diedrich walked toward Regina and the pony cart, Herr Rothhaus stomped after him. “Do not call me Vater,” he hollered. “You are not my Sohn! Now get out of my sight and take the Zichwolff whelp with you!”

  Diedrich did not reply as he helped Regina up to the cart’s seat then climbed up beside her and took the reins. They rode halfway home in silence.

  At last, feeling the need to say something, Regina put her hand on Diedrich’s arm. “I am sorry.” Even to her own ears, the words sounded inadequate. “I should not have come. I—”

  “Nein.” Diedrich reined Gypsy to a halt. “You did only what I asked.” As if unwilling to meet her gaze, he stared at the road ahead. “I am sorry you had to see that. And for the unkind things my Vater called you.” He winced. “What you saw is not the man who raised me. I have never seen this man, and I pray I will never see him again.”