A Bride's Sweet Surprise in Sauers, Indiana

by Ramona K. Cecil

  Closing her eyes, Regina welcomed his kiss. For one blissful moment, time was suspended. There was no sky, no earth. Only a sweet sensation of happiness swirling around the two of them in a world of their own as Diedrich’s lips lingered on hers. Where Eli’s kisses had been rough and taking, Diedrich’s were tender and giving. Eli’s embraces had felt confining, but Diedrich’s arms were a sanctuary.

  Too soon his face lifted and his lips abandoned hers. Slowly, Regina’s eyes opened as if reluctantly rousing from a beautiful dream. The wonder on his face mimicked the emotion filling her chest. But then, as if he suddenly became aware of what had happened, his brows pinched together in a look of pained remorse. Releasing her, he dropped his arms to his sides and stepped back. “Regina. Forgive me. I should not have …” He seemed at a loss for words as his gaze turned penitent.

  Of all the emotions Regina imagined he might express at this moment, regret was not among them. Anger and hurt chased away all remnants of the bliss she had felt seconds earlier, and the last drop of mercy seeped from her broken heart. Forgive him? He releases an emotion within her so powerful that it shakes her to the core then asks her to forgive him as if he had simply trod on her toes? No, sir! Let him wallow in his guilt. She obviously meant nothing to him. Like Eli, Diedrich simply enjoyed kissing girls. At least Eli wanted to marry her someday.

  Clutching her crossed arms over her chest to quell her trembling, she glared at him. “Mama would like you to come and wash up for dinner.” Her flat tone reflected her deflated spirit. Whirling away from him to hide the tears welling in her eyes, she ran toward the house, ignoring the words of apology he flung in her wake.

  Dinner passed in torturous slowness with Regina focused on her nearly untouched plate, careful to avoid looking at Diedrich. He, too, said little, speaking directly to her only once when he inquired about the condition of her now bandaged hands. Shrugging off his concern, she’d mumbled that her injuries were of no consequence, though Mama had pulled four large splinters and several small ones from Regina’s palms before washing the wounds with stinging lye soap and wrapping them with strips of clean cotton. Yet in truth, she had not lied. The soreness in her hands was miniscule compared with the pain Diedrich’s nearness inflicted on her heart.

  Thankfully Regina’s and Diedrich’s reticence seemed to go unnoticed by their parents, who filled the void with praises to God for delivering Diedrich from certain death or injury and discussions of how the lean-to might be more securely rebuilt. When Regina could no longer bear their conversation, which revived the agonizing moments she’d experienced atop the ruined shed, she made her excuses and fled to the clothesline behind the house.

  Her bandaged hands hampered her movements as she worked her way down the clothesline, snatching the wooden pins that secured the laundry to the twine. If she worked fast enough, maybe she could ignore the tempest raging inside her that Diedrich’s kiss had loosed. But no matter how fast she worked, she couldn’t escape the heart-jolting truth she could no longer deny. She loved Diedrich. With all her heart. With every ounce of her being, she loved him. Somewhere deep inside, she’d known it even before she thought she had lost him beneath the collapsed roof of the lean-to. Yet knowing that loving Diedrich was futile, she’d lied to herself, pretending her feelings for him didn’t exist. But that pretense had crumbled beneath the soft touch of his lips on hers.

  Anger shot a burst of energy through her arms, and she whipped a bedsheet from the line with unnecessary ferocity. What good did it do to love him when he didn’t love her back and didn’t even plan to stay in Sauers? Gripping both ends of the material, she gave it such a sharp snap that it cracked like a gunshot. And though the action undoubtedly sent any insects that might cling to the sheet flying, it did nothing to relieve Regina’s pain and frustration.

  Why, Lord, why did You allow Diedrich to come here in the first place? Most likely, Papa would have eventually relented and allowed her to marry Eli. And until today, she could have married him and lived happily. But no longer. Now she could not imagine marrying anyone but Diedrich.

  Once she had thought she loved Eli. Unpinning a shirt from the line, she gave a sarcastic snort. The infatuation she’d felt for Eli compared to her love for Diedrich was like the difference between the light from her little finger lamp and the brightest sunlight. It was as if she had lived her whole life with all her senses dulled, and now they were suddenly awakened, keen and sharp.

  As she folded the shirt, she realized it belonged to Diedrich. It was the shirt he had worn when he first arrived. The shirt she had pressed her face against when he carried her from the barn lot. Another stab of pain assaulted her heart, followed by a flash of bitterness. Whenever disappointments had come in life for her or her sisters, Mama would always quote the verse from Romans: “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.”

  Regina’s lips twisted in a sneer. She dropped the shirt into the basket then finished taking down the rest of the laundry. Well, she did love God. She loved Him with all her heart and had trusted Him all her life. And what did He do? He allowed her to fall desperately and completely in love with a man who said he didn’t want to marry her. She could almost imagine God looking down on her and mocking her from heaven.

  Blinking back tears, she headed for the house. As she walked, a thought struck, igniting a tiny glimmer of hope. Diedrich had kissed her, so he must hold some degree of affection for her. It was at Elsie’s wedding last fall that she’d first set her cap for Eli. And though it had taken a few months to catch his eye, she had eventually succeeded. Perhaps, if Regina tried, she could win Diedrich’s heart before harvest. With that glimmer of hope to dispel her dark mood, she stepped into the house.

  In the kitchen, Mama turned from the ironing board, where she stood flicking water from a bowl onto Papa’s good shirt. She rolled up the shirt and crossed to Regina, a look of concern furrowing her brow. “Ah, my poor liebes Mädchen.” She patted Regina’s cheek. “Your face tells me you are in pain. Are your hands hurting you so much?”

  “Nein.” Forcing a smile, Regina shook her head. “They are only a little sore.” How she longed to tell her mother it was not her hands that pained her most but her heart.

  Mama took the basket of clothes from Regina and set it on the floor then gently turned her bandaged hands palms up. “I do see two specks of blood. You should have told me that the work pained you. I could have brought in the rest of the wash.”

  Regina drew her hands from her mother’s grasp. Though tempted to blame her sour expression on her superficial wounds, she did not care to add a bruised conscience to her emotional and physical injuries. “Truly, my hands hurt only a little. The accident upset me, that is all.” Mama—always wanting to fix things. But for once, Mama couldn’t fix what troubled Regina. And the less Regina talked about it, the better.

  “Hmm,” Mama murmured. “I still think it is best if tonight I make a raw potato and milk poultice for your hands. That should take out the soreness.” Then a smile replaced her serious expression. “It was a brave and good thing you did, Tochter—trying so hard to move that wood when you thought Diedrich was underneath it. After you left the table, he asked me about your hands. He said he was sehr sorry you were hurt and hoped your injuries were not severe.”

  Regina stifled the sarcastic laugh that bubbled up into her throat. Diedrich broke her heart by saying in as many words he wished he hadn’t kissed her, then worried about a couple of splinters in her hand? “I hope you eased his mind about my injuries.”

  Grinning, Mama gave her a hug. “I did. I also told him he is a fortunate young man to be marrying a girl who would do such a thing for him.”

  How Regina would have loved to see Diedrich’s face when Mama said that! With great effort she reined in the cackle of mirth threatening to explode from her lips but allowed herself a wry grin. “I’m glad you did, Mama.” Diedrich deserved to feel a little guilty.<
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  Mama went back to dampening pieces of clothing in preparation for tomorrow’s ironing.

  “Do your hands feel well enough to put clean sheets on the beds, then?”

  “Ja, Mama.” Regina gathered the sheets from the basket and headed for the interior of the house and the downstairs bedrooms. The first bedroom she came to was the one Diedrich shared with his father.

  As she stepped through the doorway, her heart throbbed painfully. Though the two had been here a scarce month, this room had become very much theirs. She couldn’t imagine them not being here. She couldn’t imagine Diedrich not being here. Once he left, would she ever be able to walk into this room without thinking of him? The thought drove the ache in her heart deeper.

  Her gaze went to the small hobnailed trunk at the foot of the bed. What must it be like to have to fit a few precious pieces of your life into something so small then take it across the ocean to begin a new life in a strange land? One of those precious items—the little black Bible father and son had brought from Venne—lay atop the trunk. Suddenly the need to touch something that belonged to Diedrich filled her, and she picked it up. With her finger, she traced the raised lettering embossed in the black grain of the leather. So much of the gold had worn away she could barely make out the words Heilige Schrift .

  Gold. It was what Diedrich wanted, what he dreamed of.

  Her eyes misted, so she closed them. Again she felt his lips on hers and his arms holding her close against him. His words may have suggested that the kiss they shared meant nothing to him. But his caresses had told her something very different. Could she convince him to give up his dream for her? Somehow she must, or live the rest of her life with a Diedrich-shaped hole in her heart.

  Heaving a sigh, she started to lay the Bible back onto the trunk when she noticed a folded piece of paper sticking up from inside the back cover. Curious, she slipped it out. Unfolding it, she saw that it was part of a map. Two circled words on the map drew her gaze. “Fort Smith.” She remembered the article about the place in the Madison Courier . She glanced at something scribbled along the edge of the map. The words she saw penciled in the margin of the page smote her heart with another bruising blow. “California or bust.”

  Chapter 12

  D iedrich swung the broadax above his head then, with a savage blow, brought the blade down on the poplar log, sending wood chips flying. A few more blows and he would have another log cut in two. After rebuilding the demolished lean-to behind the barn, he, along with Father and Herr Sietz, had worked for the past three days felling trees on this wooded land Herr Seitz had bought from Herr Driehaus. By the end of the week, they hoped to have enough timber cut to begin construction on a log house.

  Though used to strenuous farmwork, Diedrich couldn’t remember feeling more exhausted after a day’s work than he had these past three days of cutting trees. Every muscle in his body ached, and he marveled at the stamina of the two older men who worked a few yards away, cutting branches from felled trees.

  Despite the hard work and the long hours, Diedrich relished the labor. Anything to keep his mind off Regina. Yet however hard he worked, he couldn’t get out of his head the image of her kneeling on that pile of lumber, sobbing his name, and tugging on a beam so large it would challenge even his strength, let alone hers. And at night, as tired as he was, the memory of her tear-drenched face as she ran toward him robbed him of sleep. He could still feel her body trembling against him. She fit in his arms as if God had made her for them, and he ached to hold her again.

  But the memory that most tortured him day and night was of the kiss they had shared. In that one moment—at once wonderful and terrible—his life had changed forever. In an instant, the feelings he had tried to fend off for weeks had crashed down upon him with as much force as if he had been beneath the shed when it collapsed. He could no longer deny his love for Regina. But what he should do about those feelings, his mind and heart could not agree. So he worked. He worked until the blisters forming on his hands turned to calluses. He worked until his mind was too tired to think and his body too numb to feel … anything.

  Wielding the ax, he slammed the broad blade into the log again with a mighty force, this time severing it. The two pieces of the log now joined a dozen of their fellows, each eighteen feet in length and ready to be hewn into squared beams for construction of the house’s walls. The house in which he and Regina were supposed to live together as husband and wife. If only he could believe that was a possibility. He shook his head as if he could sling from his mind the images that notion formed there—tender, sweet images that gouged at his throbbing heart. He needed to keep working.

  Swiping his forearm across his sweaty brow, he turned to find another suitable poplar. But then he stopped, pressed the ax head against the log, and leaned on the tool’s handle. Gazing at the forest before him, he huffed out a frustrated breath. He could single-handedly cut down all twenty acres of trees and still not calm the tumult inside him.

  He scrubbed his sweat-drenched face with his hand. The question that had haunted him for three days echoed again in his mind. Was it possible Regina loved him, too? Her tears and her kisses said yes. But when he had let her go, her expression had reflected very different emotions. What had he seen there? Shock? Anger? Disgust? Pain slashed at his heart. Surely she could not think he would take advantage of her fear that he’d been injured in order to steal a kiss from her. No, he couldn’t believe that. He had seen her eyes close and her lips part invitingly. He had felt how sweetly, how eagerly she returned his kiss. So why had she run away from him, especially when he’d been quick to apologize for his impulsive actions? The only answer that made any sense ripped at his battered heart. She had simply gotten caught up in the moment and immediately regretted what had happened.

  If only he knew for certain she felt about him the same way he felt about her, he would give up his dreams of adventure and riches in an instant. Without regret or a backward glance, he would trade all the gold in California for Regina’s love. But so far, he had not mustered the courage to confront her—to demand she tell him her feelings one way or the other and put him out of his misery. For until he knew for sure, he could still nurture hope. And despite their secret bargain not to marry in the fall, maybe, just maybe, he could change her mind and win her heart away from Eli Tanner.

  “You are working too hard, Sohn.” Diedrich hadn’t noticed his father walk up. “I know you are eager to build our home, but you must be alive to enjoy it, hey?” Chuckling, he clapped Diedrich on the shoulder.

  Diedrich answered with a wry smile. If Father knew the real reason he was working so hard, Diedrich doubted he’d be laughing.

  Father walked to a log that lay in a slice of shade. Sitting, he motioned for Diedrich to join him. “Ernst says his ax is getting dull and he forgot to bring a pumice stone.” He waved at Herr Seitz, who waved back from across the clearing as he walked, ax in hand, toward the wagon. “He said we should take a rest while he sharpens his ax.”

  Sending a wave toward Herr Seitz, Diedrich sat on the log. Father leaned back against the smooth bark of a beech tree, his arms crossed over his chest and his legs stretched out in front of him with his feet crossed at the ankles. Diedrich hunched forward, his arms on his knees. For a moment, they sat quietly, enjoying the cool breezes that rustled the canopy of leaves above them and dried the sweat from their faces. Only the chattering and squawking of birds in the trees and the occasional beating of wings as the fowl took flight disturbed the silence.

  At length Father angled his head toward Diedrich. “So tell me, Sohn, what is it that has been troubling you?”

  Diedrich gave a short, sardonic laugh. Of course Father would have sensed his discontent. Pausing, he contemplated how best to answer. In the end, he decided to ask a question of his own instead. “Did Mama love you when you married?” Diedrich remembered Mama saying that though she and Father had known each other all their lives, their marriage was arranged by their parents.

/>   A surprised look crossed Father’s face, followed by a wince that made Diedrich regret the question. In the five years since Mama’s death, Father had rarely mentioned her. He had cared for Mama deeply. Diedrich had never questioned that. And he sensed Father’s silence on the subject was not due to lack of affection, but on the contrary, because he still found it too painful to touch with words. Diedrich was about to apologize for asking when Father’s lips turned up in a gentle smile. Resting his head back against the tree, Father ran his curled knuckles along his whiskered jaw, a sure sign he was giving the question consideration. Finally, he said, “I don’t think so, not at first.”

  “But she did … later?” Hoping he had not overstepped his bounds, Diedrich turned his gaze from Father’s face and focused instead on a colony of ants marching in a line along a twig.

  A deep chortle rumbled from Father, surprising Diedrich. “Oh yes. Later she did.”

  Emboldened by the lilt in Father’s voice, Diedrich pressed on. “So what did you do to win her love?”

  Another soft chuckle. “I just loved her, Sohn, as the scriptures tell us in Ephesians. ‘Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it.’ Were you not listening to Pastor Sauer’s sermon last Lord’s day?”