by Emily Woods
“Gerta! You’re Gerta!”
Gerta’s eyes widened.
“Paul?” Gerta asked in amazement as she studied the tall man beaming before her.
Gerta had hastily written to Paul, and while she had hoped that they would get on well, she had not considered that the man she had corresponded with would be this handsome. Paul was the tallest man she had ever seen, and his crisp, clean white shirt clung tightly to his muscled body and made his dark skin glow. His eyes were large and deep, and Gerta felt her body grow warm as Paul took her outstretched hand in his. He pulled her off of the bench and to her feet. He pulled her into an embrace, and Gerta could feel the tight muscles of his arms as he held her tightly.
“Howdy! I am real pleased y’all made it here safely! Gerta, you are a real pretty woman in person! You are even prettier than your picture!”
Gerta blushed. Paul’s deep, booming voice had woken Inge, and the girl sleepily rubbed her eyes as Paul got down on his knees to greet her.
“Well, howdy, little darlin’,” Paul said softly to Inge as she stared at him with her large blue eyes.
The contrast between the two was striking. Paul was tall and strong, and his dark hair and dark eyes gave him somewhat of an exotic look. Inge was delicate and small, and her light hair and blue eyes made her look like an angel from one of her favorite German children’s books. Inge looked up at Paul, who still towered over the child despite being on his knees, and then, she threw her arms around his neck and leapt into his arms.
“My new daddy!” Inge shrieked gleefully as Paul picked her up and twirled her around.
Gerta could not believe her eyes. Inge had been so ill-behaved on the journey to California, and now, she was clinging to Paul as if he were everything she had ever wanted.
“Inge!” Gerta hissed as Paul spun the girl in circles. “You are being rude! Give him a proper hello, Inge! Like we practiced!”
Hearing the frustration in his bride-to-be’s voice, Paul gently lowered Inge to the floor. Inge shot a nasty look at her mother, and then gave her best curtsy to Paul.
“How do you do?” Inge asked demurely, using her very best manners that would have made her oma proud.
Paul grinned.
“I’m mighty fine, little lady! I got two real nice girls here to take home, and I am real happy you are both here!”
Embarrassed at her minor outburst, Gerta pasted a smile on her face and curtseyed at Paul.
“Thank you for having us here,” she said, lowering her eyes flirtatiously as Paul stared at her.
“The pleasure is truly mine,” Paul said as he leaned in to kiss Gerta’s filthy cheek. “The Lord done good when he brought you both here. Now! Let’s get out of this train station and over to the Pinecone Inn. You two can get cleaned up, and then we’ll go over to the church for the wedding ceremony! It will be a small thing. I know that you was married before, Gerta, and I don’t want you to feel sad. I am just happy we decided to say our vows tonight and start our lives together!”
Remembering their letters, Gerta’s heart sank as she recalled her request to marry immediately upon her arrival. Now, as she gazed at her attractive, kind husband-to-be, she grimaced. She had brought nothing suitable to wear to be married in, and she was aghast at the choice of nightgown she had selected for her wedding night. Gerta hoped that Paul would overlook these details. He was so handsome, and Gerta could not wait to be his wife in every sense of the word. She had been without her husband for so long, and these thoughts of sharing those special, secret, sacred moments of the night hours with this man sent shivers down her spine.
4
“What do you mean, you ain’t got an idea how to cook a dinner?” Paul asked in disbelief as Gerta stared at the pots and pans assembled in the kitchen of the Pinecone Inn. Nearly one week after their wedding day, Gerta and Paul were finally beginning to settle into their real life as a married couple. Inge was off at school in the local one-room schoolhouse, and Paul had just received word that some guests would be arriving to the Pinecone Inn with the day. These would be the first guests since the wedding. Paul had closed his doors in order to give his new wife and daughter time to acclimate, but now, it was time to return to business as usual.
“We had a cook at home, Paul,” Gerta explained to Paul as his eyes widened in disbelief. “Vicky took care of the cooking, the cleaning, and the mending! Everyone in our neighborhood had hired help, Paul. It’s just what was done.”
Paul stared at Gerta, and visions of his parents’ disdain flashed before his eyes. His mother had been instrumental in managing the inn, a woman’s touch made everything better, and Paul had wanted his wife to help him. As Gerta wandered aimlessly around the kitchen, he felt his stomach lurch. What if he had made a mistake by inviting Gerta here?
Paul thought about the last week with his wife. Gerta had looked radiant at their wedding. As she had been married before, she did not wear white, but as she stood at the altar in a pale-yellow frock, Paul thought his bride looked like an angel. Gerta’s skin glowed in the light of the candles in the tiny country church, and with her long, blonde hair cascading down her back in soft waves, Paul believed that there had never been a more breathtaking woman in all of California.
As they kissed before God and the congregation on their wedding day, it was abundantly clear to both Paul and Gerta that there was no lack of physical chemistry between them. As Paul guided Gerta’s face to his for their first kiss, he felt a warmth in his belly and a sense of urgency that intensified the second his lips met hers. Gerta could feel the thundering of Paul’s heart beating in his chest, and she leaned into the kiss, savoring every moment of their first intimate connection. Remembering how lovely it felt to be kissed after so many years without physical affection, Gerta clung to Paul as if for dear life.
When they pulled away from each other, they could hardly hear the clapping of the congregation or the cheering of little Inge. Gerta and Paul were fixated on each other, and they were both imagining even more intimate moments that were soon to come. While they were strangers, as their bodies had melted into one another during their kiss, it felt as though they were becoming acquainted in a way that could not be explained. Both of their faces were red with lust and yearning as they turned to greet the congregation after being pronounced man and wife, and the newly married couple would share more than wedding vows that night as they truly became man and wife in every way.
Now, as Paul watched Gerta frolic through the kitchen, he found himself growing tense. He needed Gerta’s help to care for the guests, and while she had met so many of his needs in their week of wedded bliss, he was concerned that she would be unable to meet this need now that their lives were shifting into the realities of working at the inn.
“I helped Vicky sometimes, Paul,” Gerta said as Paul’s face softened in relief. “I can’t do much, but I can make some simple dishes! Just let me try. I know that you need help around here, and I’m happy to try. You have done right by Inge and me in so many ways, and I’ll do my best to do right by you!”
Paul smiled at his wife. She planted a tender kiss on his cheek, and Paul tugged at her, wrapping his long, muscular arms around her thin waist and pulling her close. Gerta closed her eyes and tilted her head back, practically begging to be kissed. Paul waited for a long, slow moment in hopes of teasing his wife, but before he could press his lips to hers, Gerta threw her arms around his neck and gave Paul a long, passionate kiss.
“Paul?” Gerta said, gently pulling back from her husband.
“Yes, Gerta?”
“I feel like we’ve spent a lot of time in the kitchen this afternoon. Inge will be home from school soon, and maybe it’s time we spend some time in the other parts of the inn?”
Paul could see mischief in his wife’s eyes. He flippantly folded his hands and cocked his head to the side.
“Whatever do you mean, Gerta? We could go sit in the living room, or have a real nice chat in the parlor. What do you think?”
> Gerta fluttered her eyelashes coyly at her husband.
“I think maybe we should spend some time in our bedroom.”
Paul kissed the top of his wife’s head, took her hand, and led her upstairs.
Five hours later, Paul, Gerta, and Inge stood under the stars of the night sky as flames tore through the kitchen of the Pinecone Inn. The newly-arrived guests, two missionaries from Nevada, stood with them, and Inge wept as smoke billowed out of the inn’s first-floor windows.
“Mama! Mama, why? Why is this happening?”
Gerta knew exactly why it was happening. As she had worked to prepare a simple meal for the two guests, she had accidently caught the kitchen on fire. Embarrassed by her carelessness, Gerta had tried to put the fire out herself to no avail. Finally, realizing that the inn was in danger of burning to the ground, Gerta had called out for her husband.
Paul had burst into the kitchen to find it in flames. Gerta herself was nearly on fire. Flames licked the bottom of her skirts, and Paul retrieved a bucket of water from the table and threw it on his wife’s body. He had screamed for the guests and led his wife out of the burning house.
Inge had returned home from school to find the inn burning and her family in shock. She had jumped into her mother’s arms, but Gerta was shaking too hard to hold her daughter.
“Mama!” Inge cried.
Paul could hear shouts from the neighbors and the sound of horses approaching. Fifteen men rode up to the inn, including Tim.
“Paul! A fire? We have to get water from the stream!” Tim called out to Paul.
Paul nodded and ran to the little barn behind the inn. He climbed onto one of the work horses, and the men took off toward the little stream that ran through the forest behind the town. Less than ten minutes later, the group emerged from the trees, each holding a large wooden bucket in one arm. Water splashed from the buckets as they rode, but there was enough water left to tame the flames and fight the fire.
Just as quickly as the fire had begun, it was conquered, and Paul thanked his neighbors profusely for their help.
“The inn has been in my family for years. I couldn’t live with myself if it had gone down,” Paul said, fighting the tears threatening to spill from his dark eyes.
Tim pulled Paul into his arms. The two men embraced.
“The kitchen ain’t good, Paul, but the inn will be alright. It will take some work, but we can get things good again real quick. The rest of the house is fine. Your rooms and parlor ain’t got damage, and you can even sleep there tonight with no worries. You are real lucky, Paul.”
Paul’s stoicism shattered, and he sobbed into his best friend’s shoulder.
“The Lord was watching out for you, Paul,” Tim said as Paul’s thick body shook. “He had you safe in his hands. He ain’t gonna let you down.”
After Tim and the neighbors left, Paul apologized to the two guests for what had happened. He offered to give them money for accommodation elsewhere, but the missionaries refused and quietly walked off the property and into the night. Paul’s heart was filled with sadness, but then, it became filled with rage.
“Gerta!” Paul shouted, looking around the property for his wife.
Gerta was standing away from the inn. Inge was asleep in her arms, and Gerta stroked her daughter’s blonde hair as she bounced the child on her hip. Gerta was a small woman, and Inge was nearly ten years old, but somehow, Gerta managed to stay upright as she tended to her daughter.
“Gerta!”
Despite Paul’s shouting, Inge remained asleep. Gerta walked toward her husband, and she could feel her body growing cold as she saw the anger on her husband’s face.
“Paul?”
Paul glared at his wife. She looked so small and fragile as she held her sleeping daughter, but Paul felt no pity. He thought of his parents and their dedication to the inn, the years of hard work and the legacy they had hoped to create by keeping the Pinecone Inn in the family. He thought of Gerta’s dismissive attitude earlier when she explained that she had limited experience preparing meals. He thought of the flames that had eaten the kitchen of the inn, and of the guests who had left the property. Paul’s hands turned into fists at his sides, and his body was hot as his eyes bore into Gerta’s.
“What happened, Gerta?”
Gerta looked at her shoes.
“Look at me when I am talking to you! I ain’t a nobody, Gerta. I am your husband.”
Gerta met Paul’s angry eyes.
“I’m sorry, Paul.”
Paul folded his arms across his chest.
“That ain’t good enough, Gerta. What. Happened?”
Gerta’s eyes grew wide, and she took a deep breath.
“It was an accident, Paul.”
Paul began to pace.
“Gerta, I placed a marriage advertisement looking for a woman who would be real good with helping me run the inn! I asked for someone who could cook, clean, and help with the chores. I was real worried today when you told me that you reckoned you had no experience with those things, but you told me you would try! You ruined the kitchen of the inn, Gerta! You burnt down my kitchen! If you can’t cook or clean or be useful, why did you answer my advertisement? You led me astray, Gerta, and I am real disappointed in you.”
Gerta’s chest grew tight as her heart filled with shame. She had been quick to respond to Paul, and she had hardly considered his requests of a domestically-inclined woman. She had to leave Philadelphia quickly, and in her haste, she had entered into a marriage with a man to whom she could offer nothing but her love and affection. Gerta was overcome with guilt as her husband glowered at her, and she had no words.
Inge stirred in Gerta’s arms. She had been nearly inconsolable as the fire raged, and Gerta had tried to keep the child asleep.
“Daddy?” Inge yawned as she blinked open her blue eyes.
Paul reached for Inge and took her into his arms.
“Daddy is right here. You been a real brave girl tonight, Inge, and daddy is real proud of you.”
Paul took Inge and strode back into the inn. Gerta dutifully followed, wondering how she would ever make it up to Paul.
5
Present Day
“I thought you would never forgive me, Paul!” Gerta said to Paul as they settled in bed.
It had been a long day. Betha O’Connor’s wedding had been a beautiful affair. Betha was a pretty bride, and Charles had never looked happier. Now, exhausted from the activities, Gerta and Paul snuggled together in their bed, both pleased to be finished with what they considered a successful wedding day.
“You are my wife, Gerta,” Paul said sleepily as Gerta remembered the dreadful fire at the Pinecone Inn. “I made vows to you in front of the Lord, and I wasn’t gonna break those vows.”
Gerta turned away from her husband and faced the wall.
“I remember overhearing you talk with Tim. That was an awful thing to hear, Paul,” Gerta said, the pain of the fire’s aftermath still something she held onto after so many years. “I forgave Tim years ago. I know he is just protective of you! I just still hurt when I think of those words.”
Paul pulled his wife close to him and kissed her cheeks. He ran a hand through her hair and felt her relax.
“It ain’t something I am proud of, Gerta, but I hope you know now that I didn’t mean it. I was just real angry after the fire.”
Gerta leaned into her husband’s body and placed his hand on her waist. She felt his warm breath in her hair, and she breathed in the familiar musk of him.
“I know, Paul,” Gerta whispered, guiding her husband’s hands to more precious places. “I know.”
15 Years Earlier…
Paul and Tim sat in the charred remains of the inn’s kitchen and surveyed the damage. The walls were streaked with soot, but they were salvageable. The floor needed repairs, but the oak cabinets would be fine after a thorough washing. Paul and Tim took note of each doorknob, handle, and spot of chipped paint as they examined the kitchen, and Tim shru
gged at Paul as they men worked.
“She did a real number on the kitchen, Paul,” Tim said.
Paul nodded.
“It’s a real shame. She’s such a beaut! I don’t understand, Paul. I thought our list was what you sent off to the newspapers, ’member? We made that list of things like cooking and cleaning and being a good Christian wife. How did this girl show up if she couldn’t even make a real easy dinner for your guests?”
Paul furrowed his brow.
“She’s a good Christian wife, Tim,” Paul admitted, placing his hands in his pockets. “She just ain’t real good with the house things.”
Tim shook his head and stared at his friend.
“Paul, this girl ain’t got what you need to run this inn. She burnt down your kitchen, and she showed up here in Pinecone without a single wifely skill! She ignored your requests in the marriage advertisement and she nearly ruined the inn. I just ain’t got a lot of respect for someone like that, Paul.”
Paul said nothing. Tim’s words resonated with him, and while he could not deny the immense attraction between himself and his wife, Paul was wary of Gerta’s capacity to serve him properly as a good innkeeper’s wife. It was one thing to be a good wife in the secret, intimate confines of the bedroom, but if Gerta could not be a good wife outside of their special times together, could Paul commit to caring for her and for her child?
“I just want you to be real happy and to have a real good shot at the inn staying open, Paul. I loved your folks, they was like parents to me, and I ain’t gonna let their inn go to ruin in front of your eyes.”
Paul sighed.
“It ain’t what I wanted,” Paul admitted as he met Tim’s gaze. “She is pretty, and I ain’t got a bad word to say about her little girl. I just don’t know what to do, Tim. I need a wife to please the Lord and make a life with, but I also need a woman to help me run the inn. I don’t know what to do. Gerta ain’t a cook and she can’t clean, and I feel like I’m in bigger trouble now than I was when I first got the inn.”
