“I do know them. We will telegraph them, and they’ll come on the train for you.” I used my most comforting tone. “And you are allowed to use your given name, Cecile. Nobody here will object, will they, Loyco?”
He sat back and folded his arms across his chest. “She can call herself whatever she likes. Makes me no difference.”
He could have spoken in a kinder tone, but I thanked him all the same. “Have you ever ridden on a train, Cecile?”
“Yes. Have you?”
“No, but the train comes through our town every day and brings supplies. Do you think you’d like to go with me? I live in a village not far from here. We can telegraph your parents. I have their address. Your father left it with me.”
The girl hesitated, clearly unsure what choice to make. No doubt she’d heard plenty of lies during the past year.
Lalah drew near and touched Cecile’s arm. “Gretchen is very nice. You’ll be safe with her, and you can believe what she tells you. You should go with her. She’ll help you find your mother and father.”
While Lalah continued to talk to Cecile, Loyco exited the tent and indicated that I should follow. The voices from around the campfire grew louder, and I wondered if a disagreement had erupted. “You still haven’t explained why you went to look for Cecile,” I said. “Was it because you felt some sort of guilt over her disappearance?”
“Guilt? Why would I feel guilt over her disappearance?”
“I thought maybe you would feel a sense of responsibility because it was other Gypsies who had taken her.”
“I have no control over what other Gypsies say or do. I went to look for Cecile to show that I cared about the missing girl. I know how I would feel if Lalah would disappear. Lalah’s mother was white, like you, but Marie ran away from her home because her father mistreated her. We were camped about twenty miles from where Marie lived when she came upon our wagons and asked if she could live with us.”
“And you let her? Without checking to see if what she’d told you was true? What if she lied and her parents are still grieving over her disappearance?”
Loyco picked up a branch and cracked it in half. “She had bruises, a cut lip, and a broken tooth to prove what she said was true. That was enough for me to agree she could join us.” He stared into the distance. “Later, I took her for my wife. She was a good woman.” He tossed the branch to the ground and shifted around as if his movement would shake off the memory. “You will take the girl with you?”
“Yes, of course. And I hope you will be here when her parents come for her. I know they will want to offer their thanks.” I was giving him the perfect opportunity to tell me if he expected a reward for returning the girl.
He clenched his hands so tight they quivered under the pressure. He spewed a scornful laugh. “You think those people will want to thank me? That girl’s mother would rather die than come into the presence of a Gypsy.”
I could see bitterness in his eyes, resentment that he would always be judged for the wrongdoings of others. Though not to the same depth, I could understand his plight. I had suffered for the wrongdoing of Mr. Finley—but I had been forgiven. I hoped the Loftons would be as forgiving as the elders had been with me. Loyco was returning their beloved daughter. I had no doubt they would extend their thanks.
“I think you are wrong, Loyco.”
He tipped his head and laughed. “And I know you are wrong.”
“If you are so sure, then stay until Cecile’s parents arrive and prove me wrong.” I motioned to Lalah and Cecile.
He snorted and broke a small branch from a tree. “I give you my word we will stay here if you promise to bring her mother to my camp. Together we will see who is right, but I tell you that she will not come here, and she will not thank me.”
Using the tip of the branch, he drew a circle in the dirt and spat in the center. After taking a backward step, he pointed to the circle. “Spit in the circle to seal our agreement.”
I stared at him. “I don’t spit.”
“Is not hard, Gretchen. Just pull your cheeks and lips together and spit.” He grasped my cheeks between his fingers and thumb. “Squeeze together like this, and then spit.” He dropped his hand to his side and waited.
The girls had joined us, and all three of them were now staring at me. “I don’t believe I can, but I give you my word.” I could see my refusal annoyed Loyco. “Maybe I could sprinkle some water in the circle. Would that do?”
He arched his brows and looked toward heaven. “No, that will not do.”
“Then maybe Lalah would spit for me.”
I could see the disbelief in his eyes. “Is not Lalah’s promise. Is your promise. I don’t need her spit.”
I wanted to tell him he didn’t need mine, either, but I knew my protest wouldn’t succeed. If I didn’t come to some resolution, Conrad would soon come looking for me. Cecile shot me a look of sympathy. She’d likely encountered similar situations while living with the Gypsies.
“Like this,” Lalah said. She worked her mouth back and forth, then spit with the same ease her father had exhibited only moments ago.
With a great deal of reluctance, I mimicked her actions. I didn’t quite hit the circle, but Loyco agreed to accept my somewhat futile attempt as a seal to our agreement. I withdrew a handkerchief from my pocket and wiped my lips. “Thank you again for all you did to find Cecile. I can’t tell you how … how …”
“What can’t you tell me? You can’t tell me how surprised you are that a Gypsy would do something kind?”
“I am surprised, Loyco, but my amazement is not because you are a Gypsy. It is because you are a person willing to take time away from your own life to find this girl. I think you are very kind, and it pleases me to know you.” I extended my hand to the girl. “Come along, Cecile. We’re going to go back to the village and send word to your parents.”
Loyco bowed and waved his scarf in a sweeping gesture. “Thank you, Gretchen.”
I bit back a grin and circled around him.
“Only time will tell us if the girl’s mother is as pleased to know me.”
I didn’t have time to remain and discuss the possibilities of Mrs. Lofton’s reaction. But I would do all in my power to make certain she personally thanked Loyco—and not because I’d spit in that silly circle!
We’d cleared the woods and were walking down the street when I saw Conrad in the distance. He waved his hat overhead and picked up his pace.
Cecile slowed and tugged on my hand. “Who is that man?”
“That is Conrad Wetzler. He’s the barber and a very gut friend. You will like him.” Her frown indicated she wasn’t so sure.
“I have a brother, Stefan, who isn’t too much older than you. He will be home after school.”
“I don’t like boys very much. They’re usually mean and pull my hair.”
I chuckled at her observation. “I promise Stefan will not pull your hair.” Conrad came to a skidding halt beside me, and I didn’t have time to further ease her concerns.
“I was getting worried about you, Gretchen.” He looked at the girl. “And who is this?”
“You will be surprised to learn that this is Cecile Lofton.
You remember her parents came for a visit to the colonies not long ago?”
His brows knit together, and he shook his head.
I nudged his arm. “Remember? I told you how Oma revived Mrs. Lofton with a glass of water?”
His eyebrows relaxed, and recognition shone in his eyes. He mimicked the act of tossing water from a glass. “Ja. I do recall you telling me about those visitors. Their daughter was taken from them.”
He stopped in his tracks. “You mean those Gypsies have been hiding this poor child in their camp all this time?” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder while the angry words tripped off his tongue.
“No. Loyco went to find her. That’s why he’s been gone so long.” I could see the disbelief in Conrad’s eyes. While we continued into town, I told him of Loy
co’s selfless deed and was pleased to see Conrad’s anger evaporate.
He pushed his hat to the back of his head. “Are you going straight to the train station and send a telegraph?”
“No. I must stop and get the Loftons’ address back at the store.”
He nodded toward Cecile. “Doesn’t the girl know her address?”
“Dunlop Street,” Cecile said with a bright smile. “I lived on Dunlop Street.”
I leaned close to Conrad and kept my voice to a whisper. “She remembers the street, but not the house number, and she said it was a very long street. I don’t want to press her at the moment.”
Conrad nodded. “I have some gut news I have been saving for you. We can talk after prayer service?”
I turned warm and my heart picked up a beat as he continued to stare at me. “Ja. After prayer service would be very gut.”
CHAPTER 30
Though it had been only this morning, it seemed as though days had passed since Conrad promised we would talk. There had been much to tend to since Cecile’s arrival, and I’d had little time to myself. Returning home after prayer service, I was pleased to hear Oma offer Cecile a knitting lesson. Although Stefan professed a distinct dislike for knitting, I grinned when he offered to help Cecile with her lesson.
Conrad escorted me through the store and out the back door. “I believe Stefan has taken a real liking to Cecile.”
“He usually doesn’t have much interest in girls, but I think because Loyco rescued Cecile, he’s making a special effort.” I glanced back toward the house. “And she is a very sweet little girl. I’ve enjoyed spending time with her.”
“And maybe one day you would like a daughter of your own?” Conrad held my hand as I sat down beneath the apple tree.
I could feel the heat work its way up the back of my neck. “Maybe someday. But someone I know must first get permission to marry before there can be any talk of a child.”
He sat down beside me and grinned. “Are you speaking about me?”
I tapped his arm. “Ja, I am talking about you. Have you lost your courage? You say you want to marry me, but do I see you marching off to ask the elders if they will give us approval to marry? No, I do not.”
There was a scent of autumn in the early evening breeze. Once the sun fully settled beyond the horizon, the temperature quickly cooled. Conrad scooted closer and put his arm around my shoulder.
“Conrad! Someone could see us.”
“Who can see us back here? You think Sister Martha is peeking out her window? She can’t see through the hedgerow.”
“You can’t be certain,” I said, but I didn’t push his arm away. I liked the warmth and protection of his closeness.
“You want me to go and see if she’s cut away some branches to give her a better view of your backyard?”
“No, I do not want you going near her house!” I pictured what a scene that would be: Conrad poking through the bushes and coming nose-to-nose with Sister Martha. The woman would be scared out of her wits. But the next day, she’d be busy telling everyone within earshot that Conrad and I had been without a chaperone in our backyard.
“So what is this news you wanted to tell me that’s so important?”
He tightened his hold on my shoulder as if gathering his courage. “I went before the members of the Grossebruderrat and asked permission to marry you.”
“What?” In one quick motion, I shifted to my hip so I could face him. His features were shadowed by the waning light. “Without telling me you were going?”
“What do you mean without telling you? We agreed I would go and ask permission, did we not?”
“Ja, but I thought you would tell me on the day you planned to go, so I could … could …”
“So you could what? Worry? That’s exactly what I didn’t want. Better to tell you after than to have you worry.”
The kerosene lamps flickered inside the house and cast dancing shards of light into the yard. “No, not worry. So I could pray that they would grant permission.” I snuggled closer and looked into his eyes. “Don’t keep me waiting any longer. What did they say?”
“They gave their permission, but we must wait the customary year before we can wed.”
My palms turned damp, and my stomach tensed as I recalled working in the Küche with Sister Wilda. The Grossebruderrat sent her intended husband, Milton, to High Amana during their year of engagement. She’d been able to see him only on Sunday afternoons. On Saturday there would be great excitement as Wilda anticipated Herman’s Sunday visit, but on Monday there would be even greater sadness. On Tuesday she would begin to count the days until she’d see him again.
I forced the question from my lips. “Did they say if you must move from Homestead?”
“I will remain here unless they find someone who can take my place. The other barbers are married, and the Grossebruderrat don’t want to move any of their families. That is gut for us.”
“But if the others are married, who else would there be?” The knot in my stomach remained. I wanted to hear there was no possibility he would leave before next September.
He shrugged. “It could happen. A barber could join the community, or one of the young men in training might become skilled enough to take over for me. I don’t think either of those things will happen, but the elders wanted me to understand all of the possibilities.” He tipped my chin. “We will be fine. Even if I must leave for a few months, we can survive.” Leaning down, he captured my lips in a lingering kiss. Butterflies replaced the knot in my stomach, and I melted against his chest, enjoying the feel of his lips upon my own. I lifted my hand to his cheek and stroked the soft stubble along his jaw, hoping my touch would keep him close. Ever so slowly he lifted his mouth from mine. “I love you, dear Gretchen. I have loved you since I was a little boy. This is the happiest day of my life.” Once again, his lips covered my own in a sweet, tender kiss.
His words tugged at my heart. To think that one year from now we would be man and wife. When we finally parted, the moonlight splayed across his face, and I could see the warmth in his eyes. “I will always love you, Conrad. I could never hope for a man to be more loving and compassionate. You are truly God’s gift to me.”
With a gentle hand, he stroked small circles on my back with his palm and rested his cheek against the top of my head. “So next September, we will plan to be married, ja?”
“Unless you think you might prefer a wedding nearer to the end of the year, maybe December?” His head jerked up, and he ceased stroking my back. I looked up and giggled when I saw the frown on his face. “I was only teasing, Conrad. I don’t want to wait any longer than September, either.”
“That’s gut, because if you wanted to wait, we would have our first lovers’ quarrel.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Lovers’ quarrel? I don’t think I’d like to have one of those.”
The back door swung open, and the kerosene lamp outlined Stefan’s figure as he stood in the doorway. “Are you two ever going to come back inside? It’s really dark out there.”
Conrad chuckled. “Don’t worry about us, Stefan. We are fine, but if I have any problem, I’ll give a holler, and you come running.”
Stefan hesitated. “You want me to ask Vater if you should come in, Gretchen?”
“That little nuisance,” I whispered. I cupped a hand to my mouth. “I am fine, Stefan. Vater knows where I am, and if he wants me to come inside, I’m sure he’ll come and tell me himself.” If Sister Martha didn’t know we were out in the backyard before, she was sure to know by now.
“He is just a boy doing what boys enjoy the most—teasing girls.” Conrad reached for my hand and lifted it to his lips. “Still, he is probably right. We should go inside. I do not want your Vater to think I am taking advantage. He may not give me permission to spend time alone with you in the future.”
He pushed to his feet and held out his hand to me. As I stood, he gently pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me. “This is what I wan
t for the rest of my life, Gretchen. To always have you close to me.”
CHAPTER 31
Had I been alone in my bedroom, I would have penned every word that Conrad had said to me in the backyard. I would have enjoyed sitting in the lamplight, reliving each moment as I wrote about it in my journal, creating a permanent record of his love and desire to marry me. But writing anything in my journal tonight would be impossible.
The moment I’d returned inside the house, Cecile had become a shadow, unwilling to leave my side. Even Oma hadn’t been able to entice the girl back to her knitting lesson. Vater and Stefan had already retreated to their bedrooms when Oma started quizzing me about Conrad’s visit. I didn’t want to speak at length in front of Cecile, so I simply told her my life would change next September. She grinned and pulled me into a warm embrace. It was so wonderful when Oma remained clearheaded. Maybe she wouldn’t have any further spells. This is what I told myself each time she remained in her right mind for a few days. I doubted it would last, but these good times always gave me hope that she wouldn’t slip back into her secret world.
Oma gathered her yarn and stuffed it into the basket beside her chair. “Is getting late. We should go to bed, or soon the rooster will be crowing and the breakfast bell will sound.”
I kissed her cheek and bid her good-night.
I extended my hand to Cecile and pointed toward my bedroom door with the other. “My room is in here.” After helping her into the white cotton nightgown Sister Marguerite had brought to prayer service, Cecile snuggled beneath the sheet. I opened the wardrobe door and stepped behind it to gain a bit of privacy while I changed into my nightclothes.
Once I’d settled in beside the girl, she wiggled close to my side. After several minutes she whispered, “Are you going to marry Conrad?”
“Yes, Cecile. Next September—one year from now.”
She twisted around to look at me. “Can I come to your wedding?”
I didn’t explain that our wedding wouldn’t be like ones she might have attended in Springfield. It seemed unnecessary to give her such details, for I doubted she would even remember me a year from now. “If you and your parents want to attend, you would be welcome.” I left it at that. If I told her she couldn’t attend the wedding but could come to the festivities following the ceremony, she’d likely feel rejected. “You should try to go to sleep now. You want to be well rested when your parents arrive in the morning.”
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