Chapter Seventeen
The Sioux City train station was far larger than I expected. The brown brick building dwarfed the train station back home; the platform was long, wide, and almost completely empty when I got off of the train, clutching my black leather satchel.
There were two elderly women there, clad in black and clucking to each other. Beside them, a haggard looking woman tried desperately to keep control of four rambunctious children. Further away, near the train station building, stood two gentlemen.
One was tall and well-dressed; he had a suitcoat and waist coat on. My heart sank when I saw he was nearly Father’s age. Of course, it took some time to become a scientist, I should have expected this. He was clean and his affect seemed kindly enough. The other man was incredibly handsome, tall and broad with short blond hair the color of wheat in the sun. He was wearing dungarees and a white shirt with a denim vest over it; his pockets bulged and even at a distance, I could tell his eyes were an incredible blue.
I started walking toward the older man, plastering a bright smile on my face. First impressions matter, and I wanted my husband to be to know me from the first as a cheerful, good hearted woman.
As I approached, the younger man stepped forward and smiled. “Abigail?” he said.
“Yes…” I paused, not quite believing what this might mean.
“Hello!” he said, extending his hand. “I am William.” He had a bit of an accent; he sounded almost German. “It is such a pleasure to meet you at last!”
When I took William’s hand, a spark passed between us, an electric moment that caused us each to pause and look at each other with fresh eyes. I saw that he was older than me, but not by much; at the very most, he was thirty years old. It was clear he spent a great deal of time outdoors. Despite his fair hair, his skin was very tan. He wasn’t nearly as big as Robert Benson, but there was no question he was a strong working man.
“You have brought the Shakespeare?” he asked with a smile.
“I have,” I said.
“Then it will be welcome in our library,” he said, taking me by the hand and leading me off the platform. “And you are very welcome to come to my home.”
You would think that two people who had never met before would be awkward with each other, but William and I were comfortable right from the start. The fact that his dog loved me immediately helped: the small brown hound leaped from the wagon seat and danced all around me, wriggling his butt and barking joyfully as I approached.
“Shotsi! Stop that!” William said, with a laugh. He beamed when he saw I bent to pet the hound. “You like dogs?”
“Absolutely,” I said. Shotsi was licking my hands and face, and I laughed. “They aren’t shy about saying how they feel about a person, that’s for sure.”
“Shotsi certainly isn’t,” William replied. “She likes you, but there are those…well.” He shrugged. “She will show you her teeth and then I know maybe this is a person who isn’t so kind.”
“Your horses are beautiful too,” I said. His team wasn’t matched; there was a gray and a paint, but both looked hale and hearty. I scratched the gray between the ears.
“So you’ve been around animals,” William said. He held out his hand to help me up into the wagon. “That’s good. I wasn’t sure if an East Coast girl would truly be ready for farm life.”
I cocked my head. “An East Coast girl?”
“It is all cities out that way,” William announced. “New York. Philadelphia. A different world.” He spoke very confidently, as if he’d spent every day walking the streets of the towns he named. “If that is what you are used to, it may be hard for you to be happy here.”
“The Shenandoah Valley’s not like that,” I said. “We have plenty of farms. And woods. And mountains.” Father and I had lived in a relatively small town, certainly nowhere near the size of Sioux City. “It’s not even like this.”
William smiled. “Well, I do not have the mountains for you. But the farm, you will see.” He looked at me out of the corner of his eye ,and I could see he was nervous that I wouldn’t like him. “There are no woods, but I am doing a project with plum trees; there are 120 of them.” He frowned. “Although there are four that aren’t doing as well as I might have hoped.”
I laughed and reached for his hand. “120 plum trees! That’s wonderful. Tell me about your project.”
I must have said the magic words, because William was off to the races. As we drove through Sioux City and into the countryside beyond, I learned more about plum trees than I ever believed possible. There is a disease called plum pox, he told me. “It travels from tree to tree the way a cold will go from person to person. But not every tree will get the pox. Some cultivars are stronger than others; the pox can touch every other tree in the orchard but these ones grow untroubled. I am trying to figure out why.”
“Are there some types of plums that are naturally immune?” I asked.
William’s face lit up with delight. “There are individual trees within the species – the type of plums – that will succumb, but yes, some species are more resistant than others.”
“What do those species that are more immune have in common with each other, I wonder.” I said.
“You did not tell me you are a scientist also!” he exclaimed.
“I’m not,” I protested. “I’m just a girl. I’m ordinary.”
William shook his head. “In the little time I know you, I can tell you you are not just a girl. And you are far from ordinary.”
Chapter Eighteen
What can I tell you about William’s farm? Coming onto the land was like riding into paradise. Everything was green and healthy, vibrantly growing. The gardens were not like any I’d ever seen before: instead of long rows, William had many small plots divided into squares. The wheat and corn grew in curving, arced lines that traced around the field in a lacelike pattern.
“This is called contour planting,” William explained. “I am trying to see if it helps reduce the amount of soil the wind steals away from me.” He pulled the team to a stop in front of a small, tidy home. When he looked at me, it was clear he was still nervous. “And here we are.”
Shotsi leaped out of the wagon and ran up onto the porch.
“It’s lovely,” I said to William.
“Let me show you the inside.” He helped me out of the wagon, and we followed the dog. The house was surprisingly similar to the one I’d left behind; it had two stories, white clapboard siding, and a front room lined with bookcases.
“You know what made me answer your ad?” I asked William.
“No,” he said, quite seriously. “What?”
“The must love to read part.” The cases were full of titles; some I recognized, but others, particularly those of a scientific nature, were new to me. One name was familiar. “You have Origin of Species!”
William went very still. “I do.”
I clapped my hands. “That’s wonderful! I’ve heard about it, of course, but have only been able to read what the papers say about it.”
“Does it bother you,” William asked slowly, “that the papers say that Darwin’s work is counter to how God works?”
“God works in mysterious ways,” I replied. “And I’m not at all certain we should be sure we know what those ways are. So who are we to say what’s counter to them, and what’s merely a revelation of his hand at work?”
I was shocked by William’s sudden embrace, and doubly shocked by how good it felt to be in his arms. “You may be the first miracle I have ever encountered,” he said, before pressing his lips to mine. “A beautiful woman who thinks for herself.”
William was the first man I had ever kissed besides my Father, and of course, that was entirely different. But it turns out that I must kiss passably well, because he kissed me again and again. I could feel my heart leaping in my throat, a jumping in the veins that he quickly covered with his lips; this sent an electric shiver through my body. William noticed and clutched at me tightly.
His body was so foreign to mine and yet felt so familiar; I leaned into his strength with ease.
“Ach,” he said, stepping back after a moment. “If we’re going to do this properly – and I am a man who likes to do things properly – we will have to wed.” He cocked his head. “That is if you’re willing?”
“I am,” I said confidently. I’d never felt surer of anything in my life. Compared with all my other options – Robert Benson back home, or trying to forge a life entirely on my own – marrying William was an absolute no-brainer. “And sooner, rather than later.”
Chapter Nineteen
“I am happy for you, William, that you have found such a beautiful bride,” Pastor Hofmann said. “But why is there such a hurry to the altar?” His gaze fell to my stomach briefly before searching William’s eyes.
William blushed scarlet, while I rushed in to explain.
“Oh, no, Father. Reverend. Pastor.” We didn’t have Lutherans back home in the Valley, so I was not sure of the proper term of address. “It’s not what you may be thinking.”
Pastor Hofmann smiled kindly. “Then tell us what it is. For William is dear to our church and our family. If you are going to be part of his life, there should be no secrets between us.”
“Otto! You are scaring the girl.” This came from the Pastor’s wife, a short, stout woman who introduced herself as Patience. “You mustn’t mind my husband. It’s just that we’ve known William since he was a young man.” She laid her hand on the Pastor’s shoulder affectionately. “It makes him too protective. He needs to remember what it is like to be young and in love.” She smiled at me in a way that made me feel as if I’d known her for always. “We cannot wait to be with our sweethearts.”
“That is true,” I said, “but it’s not the only thing.” I had determined that I was not going to come to William with any secrets between us; if my history was such that he didn’t want me in his life, I had to respect that. He was too good of a man to have my problems with Richard Benson suddenly sprung upon him unawares. “It all started when my Father needed a new printing press for his shop.”
The trio – William, Pastor Hofmann and his wife – all listened attentively as I told the tale of the print shop fire, the devilish bargain Benson had forced my father into, and how quickly he’d returned from Boston to claim my hand in marriage. Their expressions grew more and more serious with every word, and by the time I’d finished relaying my concerns about what had truly happened to Kitty Benson, it was clear that William was incensed.
“Money is the root of all evil,” he said. “These wealthy men think they can do anything, and never face the consequences of their actions!”
“Be at peace, William,” Pastor Hofmann said. “Benson will face his judgement day when the time comes, the same as the rest of us.” He turned toward me. “Marriage is a sacred vow, young lady. You shouldn’t feel forced into it. If you’re not ready to marry William of your own free will, you should know that we are willing to shelter and protect you.”
That was the last thing I expected to hear, and tears sprang to my eyes. “Thank you,” I managed to whisper. “That means a lot to me.” I reached out and took William’s hand. “But I am quite certain that it is in my heart to marry William. If we are rushing, so be it, but this is the same choice I would make a week from now, or even a month from now.”
“So long as all that?” Patience said with a smile. She clapped her husband on the shoulder. “These two need to be married. Go put on your good suit. I’ll get the church opened up.”
Chapter Twenty
It was a small wedding: Pastor Hofmann, his wife, their seven children, William and me.
“I don’t even have a proper dress,” I confessed to Inge, the Hofmann’s oldest daughter. She had just turned sixteen, and clearly found the story of William’s impending marriage to be extremely romantic.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “You look absolutely beautiful in that green dress.” She produced a length of wide lace from a basket. “And we can pin this up in your hair to make a veil.”
“I’ve got the bouquet,” one of the younger children chimed in. “I picked it myself!” Clutched in her chubby fist was a bountiful spray of Queen Anne’s Lace and Brown Eyed Susies.
“It’s beautiful,” I said, taking it from her and bending to give her a kiss. “Thank you so much.”
“Come on,” she said. “Mama’s going to play Here Comes the Bride for you!”
The church was small and plain, which meant the piano music easily filled it to overflowing. I heard the familiar notes echoing off the walls as I walked down the aisle between the pews. William was waiting for me, hands clasped before him, a big smile on his face.
Papa’s words echoed in my head. “Do what you have to do to survive.” Somehow, through the sheerest chance, I’d found a way to escape Richard Benson. In just a few minutes, I’d be married, and no matter how wealthy or powerful my would-be suitor was, there’d be nothing he could do about it.
Chapter Twenty One
Our ride home from the church was much quieter than our ride home from the train station. Suddenly, William and I were shy with each other. The road was wide and empty; above us, a million stars sparkled in a twilight gray sky.
“It’s been quite a day,” I said.
“It has,” he agreed. “I many times have imagined this day, but I never really thought it would happen for real. I thought I would spend all of my days a bachelor.”
“Really?” I looked at him. “Why would you possibly think that?”
“Why wouldn’t I think it?” his shock was equal to my own.
“You’re very smart and hardworking,” I said. “It’s clear that Pastor Hofmann and his family respect you greatly. Any girl would be lucky to have you, Patience said, and she’s right about that.” I could feel myself blushing, but forced myself to continue. “And of course, you’re quite handsome.”
William blushed. “Do you think so?”
“I do.” I scooted over on the wagon seat until the sides of our legs were pressed against each other. Even through the thick folds of my green dress and his dungarees, I could feel the heat of him, and it made me want him.
“And you are quite beautiful too,” he said. He put his arm around me, letting his fingers play with my hair. “In all my imagining, never once did my girl have curls the color of fire.” He paused for a second. “Of course, that makes statistical sense. Maybe three in one hundred people are red heads, if I remember my reading.”
His digression made me smile. “It runs in families,” I said. “My mother was a red head, and the odds are good that our children will be as well.”
The mention of children put us both in mind of how progeny are produced. A new energy entered the air around us; I was very aware of how William felt against me. How he sounded. How he smelt. Every bit of it was wonderful.
“You know,” he said slowly. “What is to come…”
“Yes?” I said, leaning against him.
“It is not something I have done before.” I was silent for a moment, and he must have found the pause awkward, because his words tumbled out like puppies through a gate. “I mean, I’m familiar with the concepts…from the literature….”
“It’s all right,” I said. “We’re bright people. I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”
When we arrived back at William’s house, he was determined to carry me over the threshold. “We may not have had much in the way of tradition,” he said, “but we will have this much.” He swept me up easily; clearly he was every bit as strong as I’d imagined. I rolled against his chest and leaned up into his kiss, my arms around his neck.
We went through the house, kissing. He laid me gently on the bed and stared at me for a long moment. “You are very beautiful, Abigail.” He leaned forward and started unbuttoning the bodice of my green dress. “And I think without this, you will be even more beautiful.”
I laughed. “Let me do that,” I said. “My fingers
are faster than yours.”
He grinned at my eagerness. “I am willing to believe this.” His expression grew more serious as the fabric parted, revealing the corset I wore below. “Like two fawns, the twins of a gazelle,” he said, gazing at my bosom. “May I kiss you there?”
“Of course,” I said, opening my arms wide. “You are my husband.”
I’d expected William’s kisses to feel wonderful; those he had already placed on my lips and neck had been sheer delight. But it turns out that I was wholly unaware of what wonderful truly meant. Every touch of William’s lips upon my bosom brought forth wave after wave of sensation. I came fully alive, shivering from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet.
“You’re shaking,” he whispered. “Am I scaring you?”
“No,” I said, pulling him close against me. “You’re bringing a new part of me into being.” He smiled and I sighed. “And it is wonderful.”
As we kissed my underclothes somehow came right off; William’s shirt fluttered to the floor with amazing speed. Seeing him unclothed was a revelation; my eyes drank in the sparse gold fur covering the muscles of his chest. His stomach had lines that spoke to the long hours he’d spent working in the fields and orchard, and below that I found new delights to discover.
William would ask, before each touch, “May I?” To say yes was such a pleasure; I wanted to give the same to my new husband. So I stretched forth my hand and let my finger tips brush against the side of his swollen member. His eyes flew to meet mine, wide and startled. “May I?” I whispered.
He didn’t speak, just nodded. As my grip grew more certain William bit his lower lip. It was his turn to shake; his arms trembled like birch trees in a gale. The first stroke of his shaft brought forth a gasp from his lips. This deepened into a moan as I tried the action again and again.
Romance: Luther's Property Page 52