"It's how I felt when my father kicked my mother and me out of the house. I know the feeling very well."
He sighed. "I shouldn't have made light of it. I'm sorry." He thought for a moment, before setting her on her feet and away from him. "How about this. I will pray to ask God to help me be certain I'm making the right decision, and you do the same."
She nodded, a smile on her face. "That sounds good." A little imp made her add, "I like sitting on your lap."
He smiled. "I like having you there. Much more, and we'd be off to bed tonight, and it would be too late to pray for anything but forgiveness."
*****
Bobbie spent the next day mostly in prayer. She ignored the sermon, about hellfire and damnation again, so she could pray for guidance. She prayed to and from church. She even prayed while she ate, mostly ignoring her family around her.
It was a dreary, rainy day, and they were all trapped inside the house. The boys ran up and down the stairs a dozen times, looking for something to do. She baked them some cookies, and suggested some of the parlor games she'd played as a girl whenever she'd visited Sarah's house. Sarah had four sisters and two brothers, all older, so the only time Roberta had really felt a sense of family had been with them.
She spent the day working on sewing the gloves, so she wouldn't have to talk much, and she could pray. She seemed to be getting her answer loud and clear. She shouldn't make her husband wait.
After the supper dishes were done, and the boys had gone to bed, Bobbie approached Jakob. "Have you been praying?" she asked, biting her lip. She didn't want to bring the subject up, but she felt like God wanted her to.
He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "Have you?"
"Yes." She said nothing else, just standing before him where he sat in his favorite chair in the parlor.
"Have you received an answer?" he asked, almost afraid she was going to ask him to wait longer. He didn't want to. He wanted to change her mind and take her to his bed immediately.
She nodded. "I believe I have."
He took her hands in his, studying her face carefully. "Do I want to know what the answer is?"
"I believe you do."
"Since I haven't yet learned to read your mind, I hope you will tell me what He's said to you."
Bobbie leaned down, her arms straight and a hand on either arm of his chair. She brushed her lips across his and whispered, "He told me to stop making you wait."
Jakob's eyes widened. "He did?"
She nodded.
"He's a great and mighty God." He pulled her into his lap, kissing her, his hands stroking her. "Are you telling me that you want to go to my bedroom with me?"
She nodded again, afraid to say it aloud for fear she'd jump up and run from the room. Her nerves were running high, and she wasn't sure she could bear it if he waited too long to take her up on her offer.
"Let's go then."
Her heart was pounding as he shut the door behind them.
Chapter Eight
When Roberta awoke the following morning, her hair was trapped beneath his arm. She carefully pulled it out from under him before pulling her dress from the day before over her head and sneaking into her own room down the hall. She got her clothes for the day and went down the hall to the bathroom, determined to have a bath before she cooked breakfast. She'd be starting a few minutes later than usual, but she was certain her family would be happy to have a reprieve from her early mornings.
She hurried through her bath and went into the kitchen, making everyone's favorite breakfast, pancakes. She'd always been fond of pancakes, and the general store sold pure maple syrup, just as good as back home in New England.
She set the food on the table and, for the first time, went into Jakob's room to wake him. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she touched his shoulder. "Jakob, it's time to get up. Breakfast is ready."
He pulled her down to him for a long kiss. "Guten morgen, beautiful."
She smiled. "G'morning." She stood up. "I'll go wake the boys."
Both boys were excited when they saw the pancakes. Konrad put a big pile on his plate, and then added a generous amount of butter and syrup. "My favorite!"
Lukas took an equally tall stack, adding just syrup. "Thanks, Frog-mutter."
Jakob came into the room and slipped into his chair at the head of the table. Bobbie couldn't quite meet his gaze as she filled his coffee cup and added milk for him.
When breakfast was over, and the boys had put their plates in the sink and gone back upstairs to their room, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her passionately. "Have a good day, wife."
*****
She finished sewing all the gloves that day and even made it to the general store to talk to Mr. Jensen about making shirts.
"Oh, I can always sell shirts, but why? Your family certainly doesn't need the income."
"I know. I just need something to do. What sizes would you like?"
"Why don't you just make a bunch of large shirts? About your husband's size I'd say. There aren't really any men around bigger than he is. A man can always wear a shirt that's a little too big, but never one that's too small." Mr. Jensen watched as she picked out three bolts of checkered flannel.
"I'll take these," she said, before wandering around and getting some supplies. "Can they all be delivered? I need to see the butcher today as well." She rushed out of the store, going to the butcher's shop.
The butcher looked up, greeting her by name. "Good morning, Mrs. Muller. How are you today?"
She smiled. "I'm doing very well. I need some meat for my meals this week."
"Yes, of course. Whatever you need."
She made it home just before the boys did, quickly getting a snack for them.
"Why do you always make us snacks?" Lukas asked. "Mutter never did. She didn't put cookies in our lunch pails either."
Bobbie shrugged. "I just think you'll enjoy them. Am I wrong?"
Konrad kicked Lukas. "No, ma'am. We enjoy the snacks. Thank you."
She looked back and forth between them, wondering what the kicking was about. Deciding she should ask her husband when he got home, she started dinner, a big pot of hot chicken soup. Who didn't want chicken soup when it was cold? She'd noticed the air smelled like snow. Many people said that snow didn't have a smell, but Bobbie knew there was always a distinct smell in the air right before the snow fell. It was time. She would be surprised if there wasn't snow on the ground when they woke in the morning.
Jakob walked into the house that night, inhaling deeply. His new wife cooked nothing like his old wife, but he certainly enjoyed the foods she made. She must have baked fresh bread that day as well. He'd done the right thing by marrying her, no matter what his in-laws said.
It had been a difficult day, and he'd gone to talk to Erna's mother before he had come home. She'd agreed to keep the boys on Friday and Saturday night, but she'd muttered constantly under her breath, obviously unhappy about him marrying again.
They were as close to real parents as he still had. His father had died when he was very young, and he'd been raised by a loving step-father. It was difficult to believe that Erna's parents would get angry with him for marrying again. Didn't they understand his boys needed a mother? And he needed the comfort brought on by a good woman? Maybe he didn't love her, but he was halfway there already. He'd married a good woman—a hard-working woman. If they couldn't understand that, then they weren't nearly as intelligent as he gave them credit for.
He walked into the parlor and saw a nice pile of gloves. Bobbie had said it would take her a couple of days, but obviously she'd underestimated herself. He would take them all to work the following day. The bolts of flannel didn't surprise him at all. She'd start her business making shirts, because she needed some way to distract herself.
He went into the kitchen and found her, standing at the stove, stirring a huge pot. He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, his face buried in her hair. "Something smells delicious, and it isn't the
food."
Bobbie blushed, turning in his arms and wrapping her own arms around his neck. "Did you have a good day at work?"
He nodded. "Did you miss me?"
"Yes. I got a lot done, though."
"I saw all the gloves. Enough for my camp and my brother's. Danke." He lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her softly. "You talked to Mr. Jensen about making shirts?"
She nodded. "He was all for the idea, but he reminded me we don't need money. Why can't anyone understand that I just like to be busy? I don't care if the money is needed or not."
"Most women prefer to stay home and take care of their families," he said, echoing what Erna's mother had said.
"I will be home, and I think I take very good care of you. Do you not?"
He grinned, his eyes meeting hers. "I think you took very good care of me last night."
She blushed. "Stop that." She swatted his shoulder. "My bread's ready. Wash your hands and call the boys for dinner."
"I make love to her, and she gets all bossy. Just like a woman." He winked at her, going to call the boys, before he headed into the bathroom to wash his hands.
The boys were there moments later, sniffing the air excitedly. "It smells good, Frog-mutter!" Lukas said excitedly. "What did you make?"
"Chicken soup. It has noodles, chicken and vegetables. It's good for you." She put food into each bowl before carrying the fresh loaf of bread to the table with a small ball of butter.
Jakob came into the room from the bathroom, sitting down at the table. He bowed his head and prayed for them. His words startled Bobbie. "Thank You, Lord, for sending Bobbie to us. You knew she was what we needed to complete our family. I thank You for bringing her into our lives."
Tears pricked her eyes. Maybe he was developing feelings for her after all. Feelings that were more than just lust. That's what she wanted from him after all. Real feelings that had nothing to do with his sexual desires.
Lukas spent all of dinner talking about a girl who had been rude to him at school, but Bobbie heard very little of it. She was too busy watching her husband. It seemed so odd that she was expected to act normally with him during the day when they'd done such intimate things during the night. How was a woman supposed to cope with that? How was she to know how she was supposed to act?
After the dishes were done, she went into the parlor and found him reading another book in German. She sat down and worked on the same scarf she'd been crocheting for a week. "Did you have a good day at work?" she asked after a moment or two.
"Ja. It was busy, but good. We have a big order we need to fill this week, so I was able to get out in the woods with my ax and work as well. I love having an excuse to work with my hands and not sit in that tiny office all day."
"You said you worked with your brother. How does that go?"
He shrugged. "We're on opposite sides of the bay, so one week I row over to him, and one week he rows over to me. We have a short meeting every Monday morning."
"Whose week was it to row?" she asked, wondering why she'd never realized he did that.
"It was mine. I went to him and got to meet his new wife. She is nice." He shrugged. "He's going to be a little short for this order, because one of his men has been very ill, so it's up to my team to make up for it. You said you'd help with the books on Wednesday, so I know I have a little extra time to spend chopping trees if I want to. Today it felt good to use my muscles."
She eyed his shoulders under his flannel shirt. She knew now why they were still so strong, even though he was mostly a manager. He still rowed across the lake and back twice a month, and he chopped down trees whenever he got a chance. "You really do like working with your hands, don't you?"
He raised an eyebrow, a grin on his face. "Don't you? You're working all day making shirts and gloves when you could sit around reading dime-novels if you wanted to."
"Oh, I'll read my share of dime novels. I just like to work as well. An hour a day of reading is enough for me. The rest of my day I need to be doing something. I plan on making at least five shirts a day."
"All right. Whatever you can do without tiring yourself out too much. Nap if you need to."
She frowned. "Why would I need to nap? I'm living a life of leisure in comparison to what I did back in Lawrence. I'm quite content with my life here."
"I'm glad to hear that." He frowned. "Erna's parents are going to take the boys for the weekend, both Friday and Saturday night, but they're not happy about it."
"Well, then they shouldn't take them. We're happy to have them here." She couldn't imagine why the older couple had changed their mind, but she wasn't going to fight with them about it.
"No, that's not it. They're not happy that I've married again. They'd heard, but this is the first time I've talked to them since you arrived."
"Did they think you should mourn Erna forever?" It made her angry just thinking about it. He had spent almost a year pining for his dead wife. Why didn't he have the right to move on?
"No, that's not it. They told me today they wanted me to marry their other daughter. They thought I would automatically marry her when Erna died, and they're angry that I didn't. I should have married a good German girl, so my boys would have the upbringing they deserve."
"Do you think they're right?"
He shook his head. "No, you were right. I needed to marry someone who wasn't like my first wife, someone who I wouldn't feel as if I was replacing her with. Marrying you, I feel like I've not replaced my first wife, but instead, I've found another woman who I could care for." He wanted to say love, but he wasn't sure he felt that for her yet. He wouldn't say the words until he knew. "If I'd married Dagmar I'd have felt like I married another version of Erna."
"What would the boys have said about that?"
"I really don't know. I never asked them. It never occurred to me to marry her. I wanted someone who wouldn't expect love from me." He laughed. "The day you got here, after we talked in the basement about you having your own room, I thought you would be perfect for what I had in mind. And then you changed your mind."
She shook her head. "No I didn't."
"You didn't change your mind?" he asked, confused.
"You changed my mind. You and your kisses. Angry kisses or not, your kisses made me realize I'd be missing out on a big part of life if I kept to my idea of not having a sexual marriage. Thank you for changing my mind."
He laughed. "Come over here, and I'll see if I can convince you to go to bed an hour early."
She blushed. "I...I didn't know if you'd want me to move my things into your room, or if you'd want me to keep sleeping in the spare room, so I left them."
He shook his head. "You'll be sleeping with me. In my bed. Every night."
"All right. I'll move my things in the morning." She liked the idea of sleeping with him. She'd found herself pressed against him most of the night, his body keeping her warm long after the fire had died out in the fireplace.
"Do you want to share a room with me? I guess I should ask that instead of decreeing what will happen. I'm not usually so bossy."
She laughed at that. "I have a feeling you're always bossy, my dear. Bossy at work and bossy at home. That's all right, though. As long as you understand I will only follow the orders that make sense to me."
He frowned. "Oh, really?"
She nodded. "I've been a boss too, you know. I have my own mind, and I will use it, no matter what you think I should do."
"Of course, I think you should use your mind." He stared at her. "Especially when it agrees with my mind. Like right now? I think you should be heading to put your nightgown on so you can get into my bed with me, and we can be friendly with one another."
She laughed. "Is that what you call it? Being friendly?"
He shrugged. "Call it whatever you want, but meet me in my bed in five minutes."
"I can agree with that order." She stood, setting her knitting down. "I'm never going to finish this scarf, you know."
"Make one
less shirt tomorrow, and it'll appear like magic." He'd never seen anyone, man or woman, work like she did. She never seemed to move quickly, but she never stopped moving.
"I'll race you," she said with a grin, disappearing into the hallway. She hurried and changed into her nightgown, startled when the door to her old bedroom opened behind her. "What are you doing?"
"Just thought we might like this bed better than mine." He unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders.
"You're crazy. I'll meet you in your room. The bed there is bigger."
He continued undressing. "This one will force us to be closer to each other, he said, waggling his eyebrows at her.
"Does that matter?"
He nodded. "Matters to me!"
*****
Bobbie was finishing up her third shirt the following day when there was a knock at the door. "May I help you?" she asked the short woman with dark hair who stood before her.
"I want to help you," the woman said. "You see, I'm Erna's sister, Dagmar, and I understand you don't know how to cook good German food. Why don't I teach you?"
Bobbie frowned. "How do you know what I can or can't cook?"
"Jakob was complaining to my mutter yesterday that you cook strange things he and the boys have never seen before. He misses good German food like Erna and his mutter used to make. I will show you." She didn't wait for an invitation, she simply pushed the door wider and walked into the house.
"Are the canned goods still stored in the basement?" she asked, walking straight through to the kitchen like she owned the place. She didn't wait for a response, immediately heading down the stairs. "I was supposed to marry Jakob, you know. After Erna died, he was supposed to marry me."
"Why do you think that?" Bobbie asked, wondering what the woman was looking for.
"Because that's what Erna would have wanted. Why else?" She looked through the shelves of canned goods. "Where's the sauerkraut?"
Bobbie shrugged. "We don't have any to my knowledge."
"You didn't make sauerkraut as soon as you arrived? That should have been the first thing you did! No good German household is without a fresh supply of sauerkraut in the autumn. Shame on you!"
Roberta_Bride of Wisconsin Page 8