Marta's Legacy Collection

by Francine Rivers

  Marta wrote to Frau Gilgan to thank her, and then to Rosie.

  I plan to come home for a week the middle of September, then go to Montreux. If Cousin Luisa cannot help, I will haunt the hotels along the lakeshore. I’ll find something. I would like to speak some French before my eighteenth birthday! Something more than bonjour and merci beaucoup!

  Toward the end of summer, Marta received a letter from Elise. Surprised and pleased, Marta tore it open immediately rather than wait for a quiet moment alone.

  Dearest Marta,

  Please help me. I’m afraid of Herr Meyer. He won’t leave me alone. Papa will be angry if I come home without any money, but I haven’t been paid anything at all and I’m terrified of Frau Meyer. She hates me because of her horrible son. I thanked God when he left for Zurich. I would ask Mama to come, but she is not well enough. Please. I’m begging you. Come and help me get away from here.

  Your loving little sister,

  Elise

  “What’s wrong?” Warner was slicing veal. “You look ill.”

  “My sister needs me.” She shoved the letter into her skirt pocket. “I have to go.”

  “Now?”

  She raced into her small bedroom and threw a few things into her shoulder bag. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Go tomorrow.” Warner blocked her way. “I need you here.”

  “Elise needs me more, and you have Della and Arlene.”

  “I could dismiss you!”

  “Go ahead! That would give me the excuse I need to go to Montreux! Now, get out of my way!”

  He caught her by the shoulders when she tried to push past him. “It won’t be the last time your sister needs you. When your mother is gone, you’ll be the one she leans on. . . .”

  “I have to go.”

  With a sigh, Warner released her.

  Marta raced up the stairs and out of the hotel, boarding a hired coach to Thun.

  After asking directions, she found her way to the huge chalet at the end of a street on the edge of town. A man trimming roses in the front garden straightened as she approached. “Can I help you, Fräulein?”

  “I’ve come to see my sister, Elise Schneider.”

  “Go around back to the kitchen. Frau Hoffman will help you.”

  An old woman with a crown of white braids answered the door. Marta quickly introduced herself and stated her business. The woman looked relieved. “Come in, Fräulein. I’ll fetch Elise for you.”

  The kitchen smelled of baking bread. Apples, nuts, raisins, and oats had been set out on the worktable. The floors looked freshly washed, the copper pots polished, the counter surfaces clean. Marta paced, agitated.

  Elisa flew through the kitchen door. “Marta!” She threw herself into Marta’s startled embrace and burst into tears. “You came. I was so afraid you wouldn’t. . . .”

  Marta could feel how thin she was. “Don’t they feed you?”

  “She’s been too upset to eat.” The cook closed the door behind her and went to the worktable.

  Marta saw a purple bruise on her sister’s cheek. Heat surged through her body. “Who struck you?”

  Elise gulped sobs, leaving Frau Hoffman to answer grimly. “Frau Meyer.” The cook picked up another apple and sliced through it cleanly. “And she’s not the only one in this family who’s done harm to your poor sister.”

  Marta’s body went cold. She pressed Elise away, holding her by the arms. “Tell me what’s been going on, Elise.” She spoke gently, but her sister cried harder, her mouth opening and closing like a dying fish. She seemed incapable of uttering even a single distinguishable word.

  Frau Hoffman cut an apple into four pieces and began removing the core from each section with quick gouges. “A father has no business putting a pretty young girl like Elise in this house. Not with the young man and his father. I could’ve told him!”

  Marta stared at her, stomach turning over.

  Frau Hoffman sliced apple into the bowl. “I risk losing my job if I say more.” She gave Elise a pitying glance before returning to her work. “But you should get her out of this house now if you don’t want more harm to come to her.”

  Marta tipped Elise’s chin. “We’ll go as soon as we collect your things and what salary is owed you.”

  “Well, good luck trying, Fräulein.” Frau Hoffman snorted. “The mistress hasn’t paid anyone since the beginning of summer. She never does until the last day, and seldom the full amount.”

  Tears streamed down Elise’s white cheeks, making the purple bruise stand out even more. “Can’t we go now, Marta?” Her body trembled violently. “Please.”

  Frau Hoffman tossed the paring knife into the bowl and grabbed a towel. “I’ll get your sister’s things. You two wait here.”

  Marta tried to calm Elise. “Tell me what happened, Liebling.”

  “I want to die.” Elise covered her face, shoulders shaking. When she swayed, Marta made her sit. Sobbing, Elise pulled her apron up over her head and rocked back and forth. Marta held her tightly, her cheek against the top of her sister’s head. Anger grew inside her until she didn’t know who shook more. “We’ll leave soon, Elise. Here’s Frau Hoffman now.”

  “I got everything.”

  Everything but Elise’s wages. “Where’s Frau Meyer?”

  “In the parlor, but she won’t speak to you.”

  “You sit right here.” She stood.

  “Where are you going?” Elise grabbed Marta’s skirt. “Don’t leave me!”

  She cupped Elise’s face. “Stay here in the kitchen with Frau Hoffman. I’ll be back in a few minutes and we’ll go home. Now, let go so I can get your wages.”

  “I wouldn’t go, Fräulein.”

  “They’re not getting away with it!” Marta banged the kitchen door open, strode through the dining room and across the hall. As she entered the parlor, she saw a heavyset woman in a green day dress half-reclined on a settee near the windows overlooking the garden. Startled, the woman dropped her delicate china cup, shattering it on the saucer. Tea splashed down the front of her. Gasping, she rose and brushed frantically at the stain. “I don’t know you! What are you doing in my house?”

  “I’m Elise’s older sister, Marta.” She didn’t stop in the door. “And I’ve come to collect her wages.”

  “Eginhardt!” Frau Meyer cried out angrily. “I’ll have you thrown out! How dare you come in here demanding anything!” When Marta kept coming, the woman’s pale blue eyes widened, and she moved quickly behind a wide table strewn with books. “Eginhardt!” she screamed shrilly, then glared at Marta. “I’ll have you arrested.”

  “Call the constable! I’d like to tell him how you cheat your staff! I wonder how many shop owners are waiting to be paid?”

  Paling, Frau Meyer pointed. “Stand over there by the door and I’ll get her wages!”

  “I’ll stand right here!”

  Frau Meyer stepped cautiously around the table and hurried to a desk on the other side of the room. Fuming as she sorted through keys she had taken from her pocket, she finally managed to find the one to unlock the desk drawer. She removed some francs and locked the drawer before holding them out. “Take them!” She tossed the coins on the desk. “Take them and get that worthless girl out of my house!”

  Marta gathered the coins and counted them. Raising her head, she glared. “Elise has been here three months. This barely covers two.”

  Frau Meyer’s face turned red. She unlocked the drawer, yanked it open, and removed more francs, locking the drawer again. “Here’s the money! Now, get out!” She tossed the coins in Marta’s direction.

  Pride made Marta want to storm out without the money, but fury over the abuse Elise had suffered kept her in the room, collecting each coin, and counting them. Frau Meyer shouted for Eginhardt again. Marta straightened and sneered. “Perhaps your Eginhardt doesn’t come because you haven’t paid him either.”

  Stiffening, Frau Meyer lifted her chin, eyes flashing. “Your sister is a worthless
slut.”

  Marta dropped the coins into the pocket of her skirt and came around the desk. “One more thing I need before we leave, Frau Meyer.” Marta slapped the woman hard across the face. “That’s for the mark you left on my sister.” Gasping, Frau Meyer backed into the drapes. Marta slapped her across the other cheek. “And that’s for insulting her.” When she raised her fist, Frau Meyer shrank from her. “One more word against my sister, and I’ll let every father in Thun and Steffisburg know what your son and husband have done to my sister. What I just did to you is nothing compared to what will happen to them!”

  Marta still shook with rage as she walked alongside Elise, holding her hand as she carried both their bundles. She didn’t need to ask any more questions. Elise walked with her head down, her hand clammy with sweat. Marta thanked God her sister had at least managed to stop crying. “Smile and say hello, Elise.”

  “I can’t.”

  When they came in sight of the house, Elise let go of Marta’s hand and ran as though pursued by demons. By the time Marta entered the house, Mama had Elise in her arms and Papa had come in from the workroom in back. He stood in the middle of the room, glowering at Marta. “What’s going on here? Why did you bring her home?”

  “Because she wrote and begged me to come and get her.”

  “It was none of your business!”

  “You always blame me! But you’re right this time, Papa! This is your business! You put her there in that house with those wretched people!”

  “Come, Engel.” Mama put her arms around Elise and helped her up. “We’ll go upstairs.”

  “She can’t quit a job without notice, Anna!” Papa shouted after them. “She has to go back!”

  Marta came all the way inside the house, threw the bundles down, and closed the door firmly behind her. “You are not sending her back, Papa.”

  He turned on her. “Who are you to say whether she comes or goes? I’m her father! She’ll do what I tell her!”

  “She’s not going back!”

  “It’s time she grew up!”

  “That may be so, Papa, but next time, check her employers’ references! Make sure they pay their servants! They didn’t give her a single franc! Worse, they ravished her.”

  “Ravished her!” he sneered. Waving his hand, he dismissed the accusation. “Elise cries over spilt milk.”

  Marta hated him in that moment. “Did you see the bruise on her cheek?” She came farther into the room, hands balling into fists. “Frau Meyer called your daughter a slut because Herr Meyer can’t keep his hands off Elise! And the son did worse before going back to Zurich!”

  “Nonsense! It’s all nonsense! You ruined everything by taking Elise out of that house!”

  “I have ruined nothing. You have helped them ruin her!”

  “Herr Meyer told me Elise is exactly the kind of girl he wants for his son.”

  Could her father be such a fool? “And you thought he meant marriage?” Marta cried out in fury. “A tailor’s daughter and an aristocrat’s son?”

  “Her beauty is worth something.”

  Sickened, Marta swept by him and headed for the stairs.

  “Don’t you turn your back on me!” Papa raged.

  “God forgive you, Papa!” She flew upstairs. A moment later, she heard a door slam below. Mama sat on the bed Marta had shared with Elise. Her sister lay with her head in their mother’s lap. Mama stroked her like she would a pet dog. “You’re home now, my darling. Everything will be all right.”

  Marta came into the room and closed the door quietly behind her. “No, it won’t, Mama. It’ll never be right.”

  “Hush, Marta!”

  Hush? Marta took the coins from her pocket. “This money belongs to Elise.”

  Elise rose up, eyes wild. “I don’t want the money! I don’t want anything he touched.”

  Mama looked shocked and frightened. “Who is she talking about?”

  “Herr Meyer. And he wasn’t the only one.” When Marta told her what the cook had said, Mama’s face crumpled.

  “Oh, God . . .” Mama put her arms around Elise. “Oh, God, oh, God. I’m so sorry, Engel.” She rocked Elise, sobbing into her hair. “Throw the money away, Marta. It’s filthy lucre!”

  “It’s not mine to dispose of.” Marta left the coins on the bed. “Let Elise do it.” Maybe it would give her sister some small bit of satisfaction after what had been done to her. “At least, Papa won’t profit from his mistake.”

  Mama raised her head. “Do it for her. She’s too distressed.”

  “Oh, Mama!” Marta wept. “Papa is right about one thing. You’ve crippled her. She can’t even defend herself!”

  Mama looked stricken.

  Unable to bear more, Marta turned away.

  “Where are you going?” Mama spoke in a broken voice.

  “Back to Interlaken. I have responsibilities.”

  “There are no coaches until morning.”

  “There will be less trouble if I go. I seem to bring out the worst in Papa.” With her gone, he might think over what she had told him and regret the part he had played in this tragedy. “I’ll ask the Gilgans if I can stay for a night.”

  “Perhaps you’re right.” Mama stroked Elise’s head, buried in her lap. “I’m sorry, Marta.”

  “I’m sorry, too, Mama. More sorry than I can express.”

  Elise sat up. “Please don’t leave, Marta. Stay here with me.”

  “You have Mama to take care of you, Elise. You don’t need both of us.”

  Elise looked at Mama. “Tell her to stay!”

  Mama cupped Elise’s face. “You can’t ask for more than she’s done already, Elise. She brought you home, Engel. But she doesn’t belong here anymore. God has other plans for your sister.” Mama gathered Elise close and looked at Marta. “She has to go.”

  The Gilgans welcomed Marta and asked no questions. Perhaps they assumed she had fought with her father again. She couldn’t tell them what had happened to Elise, though rumors would spread soon enough. She told Rosie when they went to bed, knowing Elise would have terrible days ahead.

  “I can’t bear to stay. I can’t stand by and watch Papa sulk and grumble about his ruined plans or see Mama coddle her. But Elise will need a friend.” She wept.

  Rosie put an arm around her. “You needn’t say more. I’ll offer my friendship, Marta. I’ll invite Elise to tea. I’ll invite her for walks in the hills. If she wants to talk, I’ll listen and never repeat a word. I swear on my life.”

  “I’ll try not to be jealous.”

  Moonlight came in through the window, making Rosie’s face white and angelic. “I’m doing it for you.” Tears shone in her eyes. “I’ll do my best. You know I will. But Elise has to want a friend.”

  “I know. What I don’t know is what will happen to her now. It would’ve been better if Mama hadn’t protected her so much.” Marta rubbed tears away angrily. “If anyone tried to rape me, I’d scream and claw and kick!”

  “Maybe she did.”

  Marta doubted it. “I swear before God, Rosie, if I’m ever fortunate enough to have a daughter, I’ll make sure she’s strong enough to stand up for herself!”

  When Rosie fell asleep, Marta lay awake staring at the beamed ceiling. What would become of Elise? How long before the Meyers’ cook told someone what happened in that house? Rumors spread like mold on the damp wall of Marta’s Germania basement bedroom. What if Herr Meyer or his son Derrick bragged to friends about the beautiful little angel they had used over the summer? Papa would not likely have the courage to confront Herr Meyer!

  If only her little sister could walk to market, head up in the knowledge that she was not to blame for any of it. But that would never happen. More likely, a word from Papa, and Elise would take the shame onto herself, absorbing it, plagued by it. And Mama, filled with pity, would allow her to hide inside the house. If Elise didn’t show her face, people might even begin to wonder if she had been culpable, which would only distress Elise even further
. Her sister would hide away and help Mama sew fine seams and hems. As time passed, Elise would become more withdrawn, more frightened of the outside world, more dependent. Walls would give Elise the illusion of safety, just as Mama’s arms had seemed to. Papa might allow it to happen just to make things easy on himself. After all, two women working day and night and neither asking for nor expecting anything would be to his benefit!

  Marta pressed fists against her eyes and prayed. Lord, You say blessed are the meek. Please bless my sister. You say blessed are those who are gentle and pure in heart. Please bless Mama. Lord, You say blessed are the peacemakers. Please bless Rosie. I ask nothing for myself because I’m a sinner. You know me better than I know myself. You knit me in my mother’s womb. You know how I burn. My head pounds. My hands sweat for vengeance. Oh, God, had I strength and means, I would send Herr Meyer and his son to the depths of hell for what they did to my sister, and Papa right after them for letting it happen!

  Turning away from Rosie, Marta covered her head with the blanket and wept silently.

  She got up early the next morning and thanked the Gilgans for their kind hospitality. Rosie walked with her down the hill. “Are you going to see your family before you leave?”

  “No. And I’m not coming back.”

  Her mother had already given her permission to fly.

  6

  Marta received a letter from Rosie ten days later.

  I saw your mother and father in church. Hermann came, too. Elise didn’t. Most people think she went back to Thun. Of course, she hasn’t. I asked your mother if I might come to call on Elise. She asked how much you had told me and I said everything. She seemed upset about that, but I reassured her. She said Elise isn’t ready to see anyone. I’ll try again next week. . . .

  Mama wrote a week later.

  Rosie said you told her and no one else. Rosie is a good girl who can keep a confidence. She is kind. Papa went to Thun. The Meyers had closed up the house and gone back to Zurich. A man asked if he had come to look at the house. The Meyers plan to sell.