© 2012 by Ramona K. Cecil
Print ISBN 978-1-61626-572-4
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All scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Epilogue
Discussion Questions
About the Author
Dedication
To my uncle, Wendell Lee Herekamp, whose stories of our family’s history inspired A Bride’s Sweet Surprise in Sauers, Indiana , and whose vast knowledge of the history of Sauers and the congregation of St. John’s Lutheran Church was an invaluable resource in the writing of this book.
Special thanks to Melba Darlage and Melba Hoevener for their help with local insights, Bob and Tina Evans for their German translation of A History of St. John’s Parish , and Rosalie Haines for her expert German language help.
Honour thy father and thy mother:
that thy days may be long upon the land
which the L ORD thy God giveth thee .
E XODUS 20:12
Chapter 1
Sauers, Indiana, April 1849
H ave you lost your senses? My Vater will shoot you!” Fear for the young man standing before her bubbled up in Regina Seitz’s chest.
A deep laugh rumbled from Eli Tanner, but the cacophony of his father’s horse-powered gristmill behind them quickly swallowed the sound. The nonchalant grin stretching across his handsome face told her he did not share her concern. “Your pa is a reasonable man. He may run me off his farm and give me a tongue-lashing in German, but I doubt he would shoot me for taking you to a box supper at Dudleytown.”
“He might if you take me without his consent and without a chaperone.” With all her heart, Regina wished her words were not true. In her seventeen years, she couldn’t remember a longer, colder winter than the one their little farming community had just endured. Now that the harsh weather had finally given way to a warm and glorious spring and with Lent and Easter behind them, she looked forward to occasions like this Saturday’s gathering at the Dudleytown School to socialize with friends her age. And of all the boys in the county, she could think of no other she would rather have squire her to the event than Eli. But Eli hadn’t seen the thundercloud form on Papa’s face last September after her sister Elsie’s marriage to her non-German husband, William. Eli hadn’t heard Papa’s booming voice ring like a death knell, proclaiming that he would never again sanction the marriage of a daughter to a non-German.
Eli took Regina’s hands in his, sending a thrill through her. He drew her away from her pony cart and into a slice of shade closer to the mill’s weathered gray walls. She still could hardly believe she had caught the eye of Eli Tanner. And she probably would not have if his previous sweetheart hadn’t eloped with a young farmer from Driftwood—something she would never understand. For with his broad shoulders, thick shock of auburn hair, and green eyes that almost matched the spring’s new growth all around them, the miller’s son was, in Regina’s estimation, the handsomest boy in all of Jackson County.
But he wasn’t German, or even of German descent. And there lay the problem.
“I want to court you, Regina.” At the passionate tone of Eli’s voice, Regina’s heart throbbed painfully. “Sooner or later, your pa must be told.”
“He will not consent to it.” Regina shook her head and hung it in despair. Tears welled in her eyes at the unjustness of it. “Papa is determined to have a German farmer for a son-in-law. Someone he can hand the farm down to.” A cool breeze swept through their shady nook, and she shivered. But Eli’s strong fingers wrapped warmly around hers, sending heat radiating up her arms and chasing the chill away.
Eli shrugged his shoulders. “Your pa will get over it. You said he was unhappy at first when your sister Sophie married that wheelwright and moved to Jennings County and again last fall when Elsie married the dry goods merchant from over in Washington County. But he never shot them.” Chuckling, he bent and plucked a handful of blue violets from a lush patch of sweet grass. “In fact, if memory serves,” he said as he rose and tucked a couple of the flowers behind Regina’s ear, his face so close to hers that his warm breath stirred her hair, “he threw both your sisters rip-roarin’ weddings. He accepted their choices for husbands, so he should at least let me take you to a box social.”
Regina hated the bitterness welling up inside her. She loved her sisters and was glad for their happiness. But it seemed so unfair that she should be punished because they hadn’t chosen German farmers for husbands. She nodded, wanting to believe Eli. “It is true. Papa did give in to Sophie and Elsie. But I am his last chance to get a German son-in-law. I do not think he will give in so easily this time.”
“Maybe not easily, but he will give in. You are his youngest and prettiest daughter.” Grinning, Eli touched his finger to the end of her nose. “But unless he changes his mind by this Saturday, it will not help us for the box supper. So you must tell your folks that you are going with one of the girls you know, like Anna Rieckers or Louisa Stuckwisch.”
Regina gasped. “Lie to Papa and Mama? You want me to break Gott’s commandments? I could never! My parents trust me. I would never go behind their backs. And even if I were foolish enough to try, someone would be sure to tell them I was there with you. Then Papa would never agree to let you court me and would probably lock me in the house until I am thirty!”
Eli’s green eyes flashed, and for an instant a scowl furrowed his brow. But the stormy look passed as quickly as the clouds scooting across the midday sky, and his face brightened again. The lines of his features softened as he gazed at her. “You should always wear violets in your hair. They look good against your light hair and make your eyes look even bluer.”
Regina’s anger at his suggestion that she deceive her parents evaporated as she basked in his compliment.
“Eli!” Sam Tanner’s stern voice barked from the mill door. “You got those bags of flour loaded?”
“Comin’, Pa!” Eli called while keepin
g his gaze fixed firmly on Regina. He thrust the fistful of violets into her hand. “Just think about it, Regina. I’ll be waitin’ behind your barn at ten o’clock Saturday morning if you change your mind.” He started toward the mill then turned back to her. “But I won’t wait long.”
Regina watched his broad back as he strode toward the mill’s door. Something in the tone of his voice when he uttered those last words made her wonder if he intended a larger meaning than just the social event Saturday. She had no doubt Eli would not wait for her forever. And despite his optimism that Papa would change his mind, she doubted it. Not without strong convincing.
With a heavy heart, she climbed to the seat of the pony cart, flicked the reins down on the black and white mottled hindquarters of the little gypsy pony, and headed for home. Ever since January, when Eli began showing interest in Regina, she’d spent countless sleepless nights trying to think of ways to convince Papa to give up his obsession about marrying her off to a German farmer. But aside from simply rejecting every prospective suitor her parents suggested, Regina had yet to come up with any argument to dissuade Papa from his quest. And now with the coming of spring and Eli eager to declare his intentions, she could see her chances for happiness slipping away. On the bright side, Papa had at least stopped trying to push her toward every unmarried German farmer in the county between the ages of eighteen and fifty. But she couldn’t believe he had given up entirely. He would likely begin again with his matchmaking when a new crop of German immigrants arrived.
That thought reminded her of the letter she’d picked up earlier at the schoolhouse where the community’s mail was delivered. In her excitement to see Eli, she’d nearly forgotten about it. In the nearly eighteen years since her family had arrived in America, Papa and Mama had made it their life’s mission to assist in the emigration of others from Venne, their old village in the kingdom of Hanover. So although it was common for Papa to receive letters from German families planning to immigrate to Sauers, he would doubtless be cross if she were to misplace or lose such a missive.
As the pony cart bounced along the rutted road to her family’s farm, she gazed out over the countryside. Rolling fields of newly turned sod filled the April air with the earthy scent of spring, while milk cows grazed in verdant pastures spread over the landscape like acres of green velvet. She couldn’t blame anyone for wanting to leave the cramped farms of Hanover for the abundance of fertile land here in Jackson County, Indiana.
She glanced down at the letter nestled in the basket on the seat beside her. It was postmarked Baltimore, Maryland, a regular port for immigrant ships from Bremen, Hanover. Picking it up, she examined the letter more closely. Scrawled in the top left-hand corner of the envelope was the name Georg Rothhaus. It sounded vaguely familiar. Most likely, Papa had mentioned the name in passing as a recent correspondent.
As she turned into the lane that led up to their two-story, hewn-log house, she stuffed the letter into her skirt pocket. Dismissing the letter, her mind raced. How might she best broach the subjects of the box supper and Eli to Mama and Papa?
Inside, her Holzschuhe clomped on the puncheon floor of the washroom that ran the length of the rear of the house.
“Is that you, Tochter?” Mama called from the kitchen a few steps away.
“Ja ,” Regina called back as she slipped off her wooden shoes. She smiled. Since Sophie and Elsie had married, Mama no longer had to specify which daughter.
The smell of simmering sausages and onions wafted through the kitchen doorway, making Regina’s mouth water. Papa would be in soon for the midday meal. She padded into the kitchen in her stocking feet, praying God would give her the words to soften her parents’ hearts toward Eli.
Mama glanced over her shoulder from her spot in front of the straddle-legged wood-box stove. “Did you get the flour?” With the back of her hand, Mama brushed from her face a few wisps of chestnut-colored hair that had pulled loose from the braids pinned to the top of her head. Regina had often wished that like Sophie and Elsie, she had inherited Mama’s lovely brown hair instead of the pale locks more closely resembling Papa’s.
“Ja , Mama. Two bags, like you asked. They are too heavy for me to lift, so I left them in the cart.”
Regina heard the back door close then the sound of heavy steps on the washroom floor. Papa had come in for dinner. This was the perfect opportunity to present Eli in a good light. “Mr. Tanner’s son, Eli, put the bags of flour in the cart for me, Mama. Wasn’t that nice of him?”
Mama stopped pushing the meat and onions around in the skillet with a wooden spoon and grinned. “Ja, but that is his job, no?”
“Well, yes. I suppose.” Regina’s voice wilted. This was not going as well as she’d hoped.
“Do you mean these bags of flour?”
Regina turned to see Papa standing in the kitchen doorway, sock-footed with a bag of flour on each of his broad shoulders.
He carried them to the pantry and plopped them on the floor, sending up plumes of pale dust. When he turned back to Regina and her mother, his smile had left, and his expression became stern. He rubbed the blond stubble along his jawline. “Ja, Regina, your Mutti is right. If Tanner or his Sohn had made you carry such heavy bags of flour, I would not be pleased. I would have to have words with them for sure.”
With Papa getting his hackles up and talking of being displeased with the Tanners, Regina decided this might not be the best time to press her case about Eli. Thinking how she might change the subject, she remembered the letter.
She pulled the envelope from her skirt pocket and held it out to him. “Look, Papa, a letter came for you.”
A look of anticipation came over Papa’s broad face as he took the letter from her fingers. With impatient movements, he tore open the envelope. As he perused the pages, a smile appeared on his face and gradually grew wider until his wheat-colored whiskers bristled.
“Gott sei Dank!” His pale blue eyes glistened. Rushing to Mama, he hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. “Catharine, meine Liebe.” Then, turning to Regina, he hugged her so hard she could scarcely breathe, lifting her feet clear off the floor. Setting her back down, he kissed her on the forehead as if she were five years old. “Meine Regina. Mein liebes Mädchen.”
Stunned, Regina stood blinking at her usually undemonstrative father. Though she didn’t know anyone with a deeper, more abiding faith in God, she couldn’t remember hearing him actually shout out praises to the Lord. And he certainly wasn’t one to openly show affection.
“Ernst, what has come over you?” Mama’s brown eyes had grown to the size of buckeyes.
Still beaming, Papa gazed at the pages in his hand as if they were something extraordinary. “Mutter , you must prepare the house. We will be having very important guests soon.”
“Who could be so important?” Mama gave a little chuckle and peered around Papa’s shoulder at the missive. “Are we to host President Taylor or Governor Dunning?”
Papa shook his head. “Nein . Even more wunderbar.” Now he looked directly at Regina, a tender look bursting with fatherly affection. “Georg Rothhaus is coming and bringing his son Diedrich. Our Regina’s intended.”
Chapter 2
D iedrich faced the stagecoach, dread and excitement warring in his stomach. Shouldering the little trunk that held all of his and his father’s worldly goods, he took a resolute step off the inn’s porch.
He could hardly believe that their long journey was about to come to an end. But what end? His stomach churned, threatening to reject the fine breakfast the innkeeper had served them less than a half hour ago. According to the innkeeper, they were within a couple hours’ drive of the little farming community of Sauers and Diedrich’s prospective bride.
A firm hand clapped him on the shoulder. “Today we shall reach our new home, Sohn.” Father’s confident voice at his side did little to still the tumult raging inside Diedrich. Father was not the one facing matrimony to a girl he’d never met.
The thought mad
e Diedrich want to turn around and go back into the inn. But he could not retrace the thousands of miles that lay between this Jackson County, Indiana, and his old home in Venne, Hanover. And even if he could, he’d only be returning to the same bleak choices that had prompted him to agree to the deal Father had made with Ernst Seitz—conscription into the army or sharing the meager acres of farmland that barely supported his brothers and their families.
Father’s hand on Diedrich’s back urged him toward the waiting stagecoach. Willing his feet to obey, Diedrich stepped toward the conveyance as if to the gallows. The gathering canopy of storm clouds above them seemed an ominous sign. In an attempt to quell the sick feeling roiling in his stomach, he reminded himself of his own secret scheme to avoid the matrimonial shackles Fräulein Seitz waited to clap on him.
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