by Mari Collier
Chapter 29: The Journey
Both MacDonald and Anna were aching from the bumps and jolts of the stagecoach when they stepped onto the street in Houston. MacDonald was again consumed with wanting, but nothing, absolutely nothing would have induced him to use one of the small rooms at the stage stops. Anna was bleary-eyed from lack of sleep. She did not trust the other passengers and there was so little time to run to the outhouses and eat. The water for washing hands in the basins was none too clean. She had gritted her teeth and used it anyway on the theory that at least the soap was strong.
MacDonald had been to this city before and he hailed a small cart pulled by a black horse that looked like he had been worked too many years. The black man driving the horse looked about the same. His white hair poked out of holes in his hat creating a halo. The man looked at MacDonald, Anna, the steamer trunk, and decided to be honest. He wasn't sure he could lift that trunk or if his horse was capable of pulling such a load. Those two people were not normal size. Giants, his mind told him.
“Sir, y'all best hail another cab or first check into the hotel.”
“We are but going to the waterfront to purchase tickets to St. Louis.”
“Yus, sir.” The man alighted to heave the trunk into the back. MacDonald had already placed it in there.
They had just enough time to go from the stage line in Houston to the waterfront and book passage on a steamer to New Orleans. MacDonald hefted the steamer trunk and guided her up the gangplank to the main deck. She barely noticed the smell of the sea, the piled up bales of cotton and the oil smell coming from them. Once they were in their cabin, Anna revived.
“I've never been on a ship. Does everyone get seasick?”
“Nay, but then this tis nay really the ocean. We are in the Gulf of Mexico and twill go directly to New Orleans. If a storm twere to come in, the waters could be rough, but that does nay happen this time of the year.”
“How did you find that out?”
“Herman and I twould travel to St. Louis with our furs. He and Mrs. Rolfe lived there and the people in St. Louis kenned the way of the Mississippi and the Gulf.”
“Ach, ja, I had even met Mrs. Rolfe at church before they married. I did not know then we would be neighbors.”
A horn blew, then a whistle, and they felt the movement of the ship. “We have some time ere they serve the supper. This tis nay one of the fancy steamers we twill board in New Orleans, but, Mrs. MacDonald, twould ye care to take a turn on the deck or a turn in bed?”
She smiled at him. “Mr. MacDonald, I did not know you were so formal.”
“Formal be damned woman.” His white teeth flashed and he began disrobing. “This shall be a trip we remember.”
Anna could not argue with him. Work would be waiting for them when they returned and his work might take him away for long periods of time. Once they were in New Orleans they would take a riverboat up to St. Louis. There Mr. MacDonald planned to rent a buggy and horses for the drive to Papa's farm. She felt MacDonald was spending too much money, but she wanted to see her father. It would probably be the last time in her life. Letters from Kasper and Gerde to various family members were packed in their trunk. For them it was a trip that would never happen.
That night after the love making, MacDonald had started to roll to the side and Anna rolled with him. She put her head on his chest and hugged. Somehow she had to convey how much she loved him and how safe she felt with him. That in this marriage they were truly one flesh.
His arms tightened around her. “Anna, my love, do ye ken what ye have just given me?”
She raised herself enough to look at him. “What?” I've done nothing different she thought.
“Thalians can transfer emotions between each other by hugging or touching. Just now I felt yere love for me from here,” and one forefinger touched her forehead, “and from here.” This time the forefinger touched the area of her heart. “Tis a sensation denied me all these years.”
* * *
The pier in St. Louis was crammed with goods and laborers scurrying to unload or load. The smells were different as the bales and bales of cotton were absent. The odors of corn, oats, wheat, hops, wood, coal, iron, and hemp predominated. Farms and factories from states in the Midwest and those in the Northeast had sent their merchandise to be distributed southward. The grain, goods, and people were loaded unto all types of river craft to make the trip down the huge river. Once again MacDonald hailed a vehicle to take them to a hotel.
“Shouldn't we just rent a buggy and go to my father's home?”
“Nay, first I wish to show ye some of St. Louis, and mayhap, ye can order that sewing machine ye want.” He smiled at her. “And I wish to be someplace where it tis nay so crowded. Dinna ye say yere fither had five children?”
“Ja, but they are expecting us.” Anna was already calculating the cost in her mind. There was no controlling this man.
“We twill go tomorrow or the next day.”
The steamer was placed in the back of the buggy. “Once we are checked into the hotel, we shall go by the American Fur Company's mart. It tis something I wish to show ye. There are cobblers located in that area to make decent boots and shoes for the two of us. They twill be ready for us when we leave.”
The room was much larger than the cabin and MacDonald gave a huge sigh. “The bed tis nay large enough, but at least we twill nay be twisted up like a coiled rope.”
Anna realized that he meant the beds were small for her also. They had ordered a special bed frame for their bedroom in Texas. She planned to make the mattress with heavy cotton batting. Until then, a straw tick would do.
For MacDonald the fur trading market was a disappointment. The smells of oil and tanned furs, woolen blankets, gear of all kinds made from leather, cotton, twine, iron, wool clothing, bolts of cheap cotton were there, but he no longer knew any of the clerks running to and fro and somehow they did not seem as frantic as a few years ago.
“Come, we twill visit a cobbler, find a place to order a sewing machine, and dine before retiring. That way we shall be able to leave early in the morning.” He paused.
“I forgot that ye lived here too. Is there ought that ye wish to see?”
“No, nothing except the church, but we'll attend that Sunday.”
They passed out into the bright sunshine. A drunken man reeling down the street stopped in front of them.
Tasker Thomas had been on the sidelines of the fur trade. When it ended he had become a laborer on the docks and continued to blow any pay on booze. His pate was bald and his teeth few. His clothes showed that he spent far more on drink than on them. He took one look at MacDonald and bellowed.
“Hey, Mac, where yu been? Aint seen yu in a coon's age.” He swayed back and forth grinning at them. “Hell, beggin' yore pardon, ma'am,” for he had seen the annoyance cross MacDonald's face, “I heered yu and Rolfe either got killed off by the Injuns or were still huntin' fur in Mexico. It's me, Tasker Thomas. Used to do some packin' on mules into the rendezvous. Yu couldn't spare a few coins for the old days, now could yu?”
MacDonald didn't remember the man and the rum smell was almost overpowering, but he smiled and pulled out a couple of coins to drop in the man's hand.
“Aye, that I do for an acquaintance from the eld days. Friend Rolfe and I are now ranchers. Good day to ye.” With that he grasped Anna's arm and they marched to the nearest cobblers shop.
Thomas stared after them and shrugged. Damn trappers. They always did have a high and mighty opinion of themselves. He stared at his bottle. Damn, almost empty. He stared at his hand holding two half dimes. Just enough for another drink. He staggered down the street in the other direction and almost ran into a woman charging out of a store with a bundle wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. Only someone this big couldn't be a woman, could it? But it wore skirts.
He stepped down into the street to take a better look. For a moment his eyes cleared and it was like looking at Mac. Straight dark hair, 'cou
rse hers was covered by some hat that didn't fit right, the same square face with the straight nose, the upper lip thin, but the bottom lip full. Her upper body was outlined by the tight blouse. The woman had biceps on her like a man. Hell, bigger than a man's.
“Hey, lady, I just saw somebody who looks just like yu, but he had on trousers. Bet if yu had 'em on, yu'd look just like a man.” This was so funny he began laughing and slapping his knee.
The woman brought up her free left arm in a huge sweeping arc and swatted him to the side like he was an annoying insect. He landed in the mud rutted street, scrambling for his lost bottle, hiccupping and cursing.
For her part, she stepped to the wagon, placed her foot on the board, and boosted herself up on the seat with the driver.
“To home, Charles.”
“Yes, Missus Gordon.”
This was the finest job he and his wife Ruth had ever had. It didn't matter that his name was Charlie and not Charles and that Mrs. Gordon referred to a house as home or rolled her r's. She could use any words she wanted. She paid decent wages and provided a house to live in. He and Ruth had saved enough to buy a small home and rent it out. If Mrs. Gordon ever quit running a fancy place for men to bring women, he and Ruth would still have a house to live in. Mrs. Gordon could talk as strange as she liked.
Chapter 30: Memories
It had not taken long for MacDonald to haggle with the stable man over the cost of a buggy and two horses for one week. They were on the road to Papa Schmidt's place before seven o'clock. Anna still remembered the route out of St. Louis. She kept up a running commentary on the people she had known, pointing out the different trees and flowers growing by the roadside and tales of where she had grown up before arriving in this country.
The miles clopped away. The nearer they came, the less Anna spoke until she became silent for her memories of her early years were rushing back and overwhelmed her mind.
Papa had cleared the land in 1839. She had become the de facto woman of the house for her father and brother just as she had been in the homeland. To her horror, Papa married the twenty-year-old Johanna Polzien early the next year. There was an immediate clash as to whether Anna still ran Johann Schmidt's household or Johanna. Of course, Papa had sided with his young wife.
Anna had been studying from the books Kasper brought home from school: Latin, algebra, novels, and English. When a handsome, red-haired teacher at the St. Louis University proposed, she had not hesitated. No one thought there was anything wrong with a seventeen-year-old woman marrying someone who claimed to be thirty-five. Anna was puzzled when she heard his two hearts, but said nothing. She was unprepared for his cold, icy fury when he learned she was pregnant.
It was a shock when she felt him probing her mind. She stood stunned as he pointed his right index finger at her and intoned his words.
“Tell me who you committed adultery with so that we can divorce. You will not pass off a primitive Earth being as my child. Who was it?”
His mind clashed with hers and she felt arcing points of pain within her head. Anna wet her lips. “How can you say such things?” She shook her head and her hurt was replaced with a raging anger. It was like she threw him out of her mind and threw up bricks to block him.
“I have been with no one else. Don't you dare try to do that to me again! It's foul. It's wrong and it hurts.”
For a moment Mr. Lawrence stared at her and then slammed out of the house.
He had not returned until well after midnight. Anna was not sure where he slept, but it was not in their bed. She had prayed for God to forgive her temper, but she had felt so violated. How could someone go into another's mind and try to command them to speak? Did it have to do with the two hearts? When they first married, she thought it was a flaw like the calves with two heads. Now she wasn't sure. What had he meant by primitive Earth being? Is that how he thought of her? She had been puzzled that he had been with her but once since they wed. She knew her father and Johanna had used the marriage bed more than that. Her room had been right above theirs. She was not certain, however, how frequently man and wife should be together like that.
The surprising thing was that she had enjoyed it. This was something else she wasn't sure should be, but there was no one to ask. Her mother had died in childbirth when Anna and Kasper were seven.
The next morning, Mr. Lawrence did not speak to her and did not again until after the child was born. Divorce was not an option. He could not prove she committed adultery and there was no other reason the law would grant a divorce. Anna spent her pregnancy banging things around. She would berate him for not speaking and he would leave for most of the evening. She never knew what he did or where he went, but he did not return reeking of liquor.
He did hire a midwife. The delivery took but seven hours.
“What a beautiful little girl you have, Frau Lawrence.”
Tante Bertha's round face beamed as she laid the baby in her arms.
Margareatha Louise Lawrence was baptized one month later. Mr. Lawrence did not attend. She had been horrified to find out he was an atheist.
“I do not give credence to superstition by attending primitive rites.”
He was just as horrified to hear the two hearts in Margareatha's chest and see the golden circles around the pupils of her copper eyes. For months he walked around with a frown on his face, deep in thought. His habits changed and he did not leave the house at night.
It wasn't until Margareatha was three years old that Mr. Lawrence returned to their bedroom. He had resumed teaching Anna mathematics and English grammar. He considered German too guttural. “English is completely devoid of reason, but at least it does not grate on one's ears.” Anna no longer cared about his opinions, but she wanted to learn.
His reaction to her second pregnancy was one of bewilderment. The coldness of a loveless marriage descended upon them. He spent more and more time at the college and library studying and writing notes in his cryptic language. Anna didn't care. She had enough friends now to realize this was not a marriage. It was not like those where women were beaten, but there were marriages where women and men loved each other. Anna was too proud to admit the loneliness in her marriage to anyone but her twin.
She gave this baby the name of Daniel Anson Lawrence. “If du do not claim him, at least he knows he is the son of von of us.” Mr. Lawrence insisted she use English to speak in their home. When he was gone, Anna ignored the edict. Daniel had dark hair and his eyes remained grey like hers. There was but one heart in his chest.
Their marriage remained the same as before. He refused to communicate with her and spent his time studying manuscripts and heavy tomes. Kasper was taking the last of his courses to prepare him for Concordia Seminary. She rarely saw him. At times it was a relief to return to her father's farm with the children and help with the planting or putting up the vegetables. The yard around her house was not large enough to produce anything. Mr. Lawrence insisted they were not to live like the lesser beings. It frightened her when he spoke in those terms. She did defy him by having Daniel baptized and attending church with the children.
She could name each time Mr. Lawrence behaved as a husband. The winter cold of late 1849 and early 1850 necessitated his return to their bed for shared warmth. A sudden warm snap brought forth his manhood. In April, she had an announcement.
“Mr. Lawrence, I am pregnant again.”
His face became immobile. “Are you certain?”
“Ja, three months it has been now.”
“Learn to phrase your sentences correctly.” He rose and left the house.
Lorenz Adolph was born the last week of October. He and Daniel looked alike, but in his chest beat two hearts. Mr. Lawrence became white-faced with the news. He did not return for two weeks.
The children and house kept Anna busy enough that his coldness and absence was not bothersome. Lorenz was the amazement. He spoke and walked at nine months. His temper tantrums (according to Kasper) were on a par with hers as a child.
His hair remained black and curly like hers and his eyes remained a grey color. By the time he was three, he was trying to beat Daniel at games and loved playing the game War with his Uncle Kasper. Mr. Lawrence once again visited their marriage bed.
The inevitable occurred.
“Mr. Lawrence, I am with child.”
He spun on his heel and remained absent for three weeks. When he returned, he made his announcement.
“When you are strong enough after bearing this child, we will leave for Texas. I have land there.”
That night, Anna had written to her brother. She sealed the envelope and on the outside she wrote: To be opened upon verification of my death.
Chapter 31: The Schmidt Farm
“My beautiful little girl, you have suffered so much. Your hair is whiter than mine.”
Johann Schmidt had returned from the fields and enfolded Anna in a bear hug. The man stood six feet four and had the stocky farmer's build. At sixty-three he was still solid and could see without glasses. His hair was grey, but abundant.
For a moment they stood with arms wrapped around each other. Then Johann bent and kissed her cheek and Anna rose on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.
“Come, Papa, you must meet my husband.”
MacDonald was standing just behind them, his amused brown eyes surveying the scene.
Johann looked at MacDonald's chin and then lifted his eyes upward.
“Papa, this is my husband, Zebediah L. MacDonald. Mr. MacDonald, this is my papa, Mr. Johann Schmidt.”
The two men shook hands. Anna performed the introduction in German and Johann used German also. “It's not often I have to look up at a man.”
A smile broke MacDonald's face. “And it is not often that I meet a man that is almost as large as I.”
“You are a farmer?”
“Rancher.”
“And what is the difference? You raise cattle. You have to grow crops to feed them.”
