A Bride's Agreement

by Elaine Bonner

  Ignoring her plea, he pulled her roughly to him, and a ripping sound filled her left ear. Glancing in the direction of the sound, she noticed with dismay that the right sleeve of her dress had torn away at the shoulder.

  “Look, you tore my dress!” Furious, she wriggled in vain in Eli’s iron grasp.

  His only answer was a throaty chuckle as he tried to press his mouth down on hers. But she turned her head at the last instant, and his lips landed wetly below her right ear.

  “Eli, please stop it!” Tears flooded down Regina’s face. Vacillating between pain, fear, and anger at his bad manners, she fought to free herself.

  “Let her go, friend.” Like the sound of distant thunder, an ominous warning in German rumbled beneath the deep, placid voice to their right.

  CHAPTER 5

  Relief and shame warred in Regina’s chest as she looked over to see Diedrich’s tall, broad-shouldered form filling the barn’s little side doorway less than five feet away. She had no idea how much German Eli knew. But whether or not he understood Diedrich’s words, Eli could not mistake the threat in Diedrich’s voice as well as his stony glower and clenched fists.

  Eli took his hands from Regina and stepped back. The two men traded glares, and for a moment, Regina feared a fight might ensue. Instead, Eli visibly shrank back and turned to her.

  “Call off your German dog, Regina.” Though audibly subdued, his voice dripped with scorn as he shot Diedrich a withering glance. “And you tell him not to say a word to your pa about our… argument, or we are through.” With one last caustic glance between Regina and Diedrich, Eli turned on his heel and stalked out of the barn.

  Only when Eli had disappeared through the big open doors at the end of the barn did Diedrich cross to her. “Are you hurt?” His gray eyes full of concern roved her face then slid to her bare shoulder and the ripped calico fabric hanging from it.

  “No, I am not hurt.” Fumbling, Regina tried to fit the torn sleeve back in place, but it wouldn’t stay. She had done nothing wrong and should not feel embarrassed. Still, she did. But any embarrassment took second place to the anxiety filling her chest at Eli’s parting warning. If Diedrich told Papa or Herr Rothhaus about what had just transpired between her and Eli, Papa would never allow Eli back on the farm. Stepping to Diedrich, she put her hand on his arm. “Please, do not tell Papa and Mama what you saw, or even that Eli was here. Eli is a… friend. We were just having an argument.”

  Diedrich’s brow furrowed, and he glanced down at the straw-strewn dirt floor. After a long moment, he lifted a thoughtful but still troubled face to her. “To me, he did not look friendly. But unless I am asked, I will say nothing. And Herr Seitz knows he is here. The man you call Eli brought a bent driveshaft from the gristmill for your father to straighten at his forge.”

  Relief sluiced through Regina, washing the strength from her limbs. She grabbed the railing at the side of Ingwer’s stall for support and blew out a long breath. “Gott sei Dank!” With the closest blacksmith shop at Dudleytown three miles away, it was not unusual for neighbors to bring their broken and bent iron pieces for Papa to fix at his little forge behind the barn.

  “Thanks be to Gott that you were no more hurt.” Only a hint of admonition touched Diedrich’s voice as he bent and righted the milk bucket. When he straightened, his gaze strayed again to her bare shoulder. His face reddened, and he looked away. “You must mend your frock. I will milk the cow.”

  “Danke.” At his kindness, Regina mumbled the word, emotion choking off her voice. He is our guest. Of course he feels obliged to be kind. But deep down, she knew his kindness did not spring entirely from a desire to be polite. She also knew intuitively that he would keep his word and not mention to her parents the incident between her and Eli. Turning to leave, she glanced back at his handsome profile and her pulse quickened, doubtless a reaction to her earlier fright with Eli and her embarrassment that Diedrich had witnessed the scene.

  “Regina.” His soft voice stopped her. “You do not want this marriage between us, do you?”

  His blunt question caught her by surprise, and her heart raced as she turned around in the narrow doorway. Would Diedrich, like Eli, become enraged at her rejection? After all, he had sailed all the way from Venne to marry her. “No.” The honest word popped out of her mouth, accompanied by an unexpected twinge of sadness.

  To her confusion, instead of showing anger or disappointment, Diedrich’s expression took on the same closed look she’d seen on Papa’s face when he engaged in horse trading. “Neither do I want it.”

  Regina’s jaw sagged. “But—but Papa paid your way here so you would… so we would—”

  “I know.” He winced. “Why do you think I suggested that my Vater and I work here through the summer to pay off our passage?”

  “You—you said so we could get to know each other better.” Her face flamed, and her eyes fled his.

  “May Gott forgive my lie.” His deep voice sank even further with regret.

  Amazed at his words, Regina took a couple of tentative steps toward him. So all her scheming to put him off had been unnecessary? “You do not want to marry me?”

  At her breathless question the emotionless curtain that had veiled his eyes lifted and they shone with both sorrow and remorse. “Please, Regina, I mean you no insult. It is not my intention to hurt you. I mean, look at you. Any man would be pleased…” Reddening, he shook his head as if to bring his thoughts back into focus. He took her hands in his, and the gentle touch of his fingers curling around hers suffused her with warmth. “It is not that I do not want to marry you. I do not want to marry anyone. Not until I have made my fortune.”

  Regina slipped her hands from his and stifled the laugh threatening to burst from her lips. “Made your fortune?” She glanced through the open doors at the end of the barn. In the distance, the morning sunlight turned the acres of winter wheat to fields of emerald. From a fence post, a cardinal flew, the sunlight gilding the edges of the bird’s ruby-red wing. This farm had been her home for the past ten years since her family moved here from Cincinnati, where they’d first settled after arriving in America. After their cramped quarters in the German part of the noisy city, this place had seemed like Eden to seven-year-old Regina. And she still loved the farm with all her heart, but there was no fortune to be made here, despite what Diedrich and his father might have been told. Shaking her head, she gave him a pitiful look. “I do not know what others have told you, but you will find no fortune here. Papa has one of the most prosperous farms in Sauers, and we are certainly not wealthy.”

  Diedrich nodded. “You have a beautiful farm. I have been plowing for days now, and never have I seen better, richer soil than what I have found here. But I do not mean to make my fortune in Indiana.”

  “Then where?” Intrigued, she barely breathed the query as she drew closer.

  A spark of excitement lit his eyes and his expression grew distant. “By September I hope to have paid off my passage and earned enough money to make my way to the goldfields in California.” He fished a tattered scrap of newspaper from his shirt pocket and handed it to her.

  Regina could barely make out the faded German words, but what she could read had a distinctly familiar ring. Since last autumn when newspapers first heralded the discovery of gold in California, advertisements like this one—only in English—had peppered every newspaper in the country. Offering every kind of provision needed by the adventurous soul willing to make the trip west, such notices promised riches beyond all human imagination, with little more effort than to reach down and scoop up gold nuggets from California’s streams and mountainsides. Many young men from all over the country, including Jackson County, had hearkened to the siren’s song and braved myriad dangers to make their way to the continent’s western coast. And though a goodly number had lost their lives in the effort, to Regina’s knowledge, not one had “struck it rich” as the papers put it.

  She handed Diedrich back the scrap of paper and experienced a fla
sh of sorrow tinged with fear. Would he be among the number to forfeit his life in the quest of a golden dream?

  Diedrich tucked the paper back into his shirt pocket. “You asked me to keep the secret of your Liebchen from your parents. I must ask you to keep from them my plans as well.”

  Heat flamed in Regina’s cheeks that he had guessed Eli was her sweetheart. Then anger flared, stoking the fire in her face. Despite her relief in learning that Diedrich did not want to marry her any more than she wanted to marry him, it did not excuse the fact that the Rothhaus men had lied to Papa. They had taken advantage of his generosity and used his money to come to America under false pretenses. “And when do you and Herr Rothhaus plan to tell my parents that you lied to get money for your passage here? Or will we just wake up one morning to find you both gone?”

  “Nein.” He barked the word, and an angry frown creased his tanned forehead. He grasped her arm but not in a threatening manner as Eli had done; his fingers did not bite into her skin as Eli’s had. “You do not understand. My Vater knows nothing of my plans. He is an honorable man. He made the agreement with your Vater in good faith.” His chin dropped to his chest, and his voice turned penitent. “I have deceived my Vater as I have deceived yours.” He let go of her arm, leaving her feeling oddly bereft. “I know it was wrong of me, but I had no other means to get to America.” When he raised his face to hers again, his gray eyes pled for understanding. “For many months, both my Vater and I had prayed that Gott would find a way for me to leave Venne for America before the army called me into service. So when the letter came from Herr Seitz offering us money for passage, it seemed an answer to our prayers.” Diedrich’s Adam’s apple bobbed with his swallow. “My Vater was so happy that we were coming to America. I did not have the courage to tell him how I felt and to ask him to refuse your Vater’s gift.” He shook his head. “For months I have dreaded this moment, praying that Gott would find a way for me to get out of this marriage without disappointing both our Vaters.” He swallowed again. His gray gaze turned so tender tears sprung to Regina’s eyes. “But mostly, I prayed I would not break your heart.”

  Glancing away, Regina blinked the moisture from her eyes. So Diedrich Rothhaus was an honorable man. That was no reason for tears. And even if she wanted to marry him—which she did not—he did not want to marry her. At length, she lifted dry eyes to him. “So what do you suggest we do?”

  He blew out a long breath and looked down at his boot tops, mired with the rich, dark soil of the back forty acres. When he lifted his face, a smile bloomed on his lips. Regina wondered why she had never noticed before the gentle curve of his mouth and the fine shape of his lips. “I think we should pray. I prayed I would not break your heart and Gott has answered my prayer. The harvest does not come immediately after the planting. Gott takes time to grow and ripen the grain. So maybe we should give Him time to work in this also. I am sure the answer to our prayers will come in His season.”

  Diedrich’s notion seemed sound. If they rushed to Papa and Herr Rothhaus now and confessed that they had no desire to marry, it would only bring discord and invite a barrage of opposition from their parents. Instead, the summer months would give Regina and Diedrich time to gradually convince their elders to dissolve their hastily cobbled plan to unite their children.

  Regina nodded. “Ja. I think what you say is true. By harvesttime, the debt you and Herr Rothhaus owe to my Vater will be paid, and our Vaters will not feel so obliged to keep the agreement they made. Then when we tell them we do not think it is Gott’s will that we marry, they will be more ready to accept our decision.”

  Diedrich stuck out his hand. “When we boarded the Franziska, my Vater said, ‘We go to America where we can be free to live as we want.’ If in this free land our Vaters can make a deal that we should marry, I see nothing wrong in the two of us making a deal that we should not.”

  With a halting motion, Regina placed her hand in his to seal their agreement. At his firm but gentle clasp, a sensation of comforting warmth like the morning sun’s rays suffused her. Again she experienced regret when he drew his hand from hers.

  He picked up the three-legged milking stool. “It is a deal, then. We shall work together to change our parents’ minds and pray daily for their understanding.” A whimsical grin quirked the corner of his mouth, and he winked, quickening Regina’s heart. “I trust our agreement will now bring an improvement to my meals.”

  Regina’s face flushed hotly. How transparent he must have found her feeble attempts to dampen his ardor. And even more embarrassing was learning that her efforts were entirely unnecessary. But at least she would no longer have to come up with new ways to turn Diedrich against her. Knowing she’d gained an ally in her quest to avoid the marriage Papa and Herr Rothhaus had arranged for her should make her heart soar. So why did it droop with regret?

  CHAPTER 6

  There, Alter, does that feel better?” Diedrich lifted the last of the harness from the big draft horse’s back. “At least you can shed your burden, mein Freund. I only wish mine came off so easily.” What Diedrich had witnessed this morning had surely burdened his heart to a far greater extent than the leather harness and collar encumbered the big Clydesdale before him. He took the piece of burlap draped across the top beam of the horse’s stall and began wiping the sweat from the animal’s dark brown hide.

  Anger, along with other emotions he didn’t care to explore, raged in Diedrich’s chest. A half day of plowing had not erased from his mind the scene he had come upon this morning in the barn. He hadn’t felt such an urge to pummel someone to Milchreis since he was fourteen and found Wilhelm Kohl about to drown a sackful of kittens in the stream that separated their two farms. The sight of Regina struggling in the clutches of that rabid whelp she called “Eli” had made Diedrich want to take the boy’s head off. At fourteen, Diedrich had plowed into eighteen-year-old Wilhelm without thought of the consequences, sending the bigger boy sprawling and the terrified cats scampering to the nearby woods. But when Wilhelm had righted himself and got the wind back into his lungs, he’d commenced to beat Diedrich until it was his face and not Wilhelm’s that more closely resembled rice pudding.

  Diedrich finished rubbing down the horse and tossed the piece of burlap over the stall’s rail. If he had given in to his temper this morning as he had years ago with Wilhelm, the outcome would doubtless have been much different. Nearly a head taller than Eli and easily a stone heavier, he could have done serious damage to the boy if not taken his life altogether.

  At the sobering thought, he blew out a long breath and shoved his fingers through his hair. Thanks be to Gott, over the past seven years he had grown not only in stature but also in self-control and forethought. Having declared his intentions, or rather the lack of them to Regina, Diedrich had no right to voice his opinion of her choice in a suitor, however brutish he considered the man. Still, for some reason, the girl to whom his father had promised him evoked in Diedrich a protective instinct he had rarely felt in his life. Twice since arriving in Sauers, he had seen fear shine from Regina’s crystalline blue eyes, and twice he had felt compelled to vanquish it by coming between her and whatever threatened her.

  He shook his head as if to dislodge from his mind the vision of Regina struggling in Eli’s arms. A new burst of anger flared within him like bellows pumping air into a forge. In an attempt to calm his rising temper, he patted the horse’s muscular neck. “What Fräulein Seitz does is not my concern, is it, mein Freund?” But saying it aloud did not make it so. The thought of Regina marrying that oaf Eli concerned Diedrich greatly. How could he leave for California with a clear conscience knowing he was likely opening the door for her to stroll into matrimony with the hot-tempered youth? Still, he could see no good way out of his conundrum. He hadn’t come all this way to give up his dream of making his fortune in California. And even if he weren’t planning to leave Sauers, he’d made an agreement with Regina. If he reneged on their agreement and forced her into an unwanted marriage,
he’d likely consign them both to a miserable life. No, his best option was to simply stick to his plan—and their agreement—and pray she would have enough good sense not to run off with the scamp.

  The large horse dashed his head up and down and emitted an impatient whinny, wresting Diedrich from his troubled reverie.

  “Forgive me, Freund. Of course you are right. I must take care of what Gott has given me to do and leave the rest to Him.” He crossed to a pile of hay and grasped the pitchfork sticking from it, then carried two large forkfuls of dried timothy hay to the waiting stallion.

  As if to say thanks, the Clydesdale expelled a mighty breath through his flaring nostrils, his sleek sides heaving with the effort. The great puff of air sent hay dust flying, and Diedrich sneezed as it went up his nose.

  “Ah, there you are, mein Sohn.” Father’s bright voice chimed behind Diedrich, turning him around. “I thought maybe you had already gone to the house for dinner.”

  “Nein, Vater. As you always say, the animals feed us, so we must feed them before we feed ourselves.” Glancing over his shoulder, Diedrich sent his father a smile and was struck again by the marked change in his parent since their arrival in America. It was hard to believe that Father was the same brooding, work-worn man who had raised him. From the moment they stepped off the Franziska in Baltimore, Diedrich had witnessed a transformation in his normally sullen father. It was as if someone had lit a new flame behind his father’s gray eyes. But it was more than that. Though half a head shorter than Diedrich, Father stood taller now, and there was a new lilt in his step that belied his fifty-six years. America was good for Father.

  “Ja.” Father bobbed his head as he dragged his hat from his still-thick shock of graying brown hair. A good-natured twinkle flickered in his eyes. “I do say that for sure. And it is true. But I wonder if after this morning’s breakfast, you are not so eager to eat the food prepared by your intended?”