by AlLee, Jennifer L. ; Breidenbach, Angela; Franklin, Darlene
“Levi has been my closest friend my whole life.” She growled under her breath. “But he allowed Mother’s and Mrs. Webber’s plotting and planning to ruin our friendship. There’s no telling how many other people believed we were engaged because he told them we were. An engagement always begins with a proposal. There was no proposal. I want a proposal. I want a man to say he can’t bear the thought of life without me. How could Levi just assume we were engaged?”
Her father’s lips tightened at the corners, his eyes almost amused. “Could you consider marrying him?”
For a moment Reba was speechless.
Something began to tug at her. It twisted and turned in her chest. She had long learned to live with being a disappointment to her mother, but she simply could not bear to disappoint her father—her dear Vati. She swallowed to ease the tightening in her throat.
“Do you want me to?” she said quietly.
Please, say no. Please, don’t make me feel selfish like Mother did.
Father’s brow furrowed. His gaze focused on something outside the trolley window. “I want you to marry the man you want to marry, not the man your parents or anyone else has chosen for you to marry. Marriage is hard, Reba. But it can be wonderful, too. Love makes the hard seem less hard and the wonderful more wonderful, especially when you know your mate was your choice because, as you say, you couldn’t bear the thought of life without that person. So choose wisely.”
Had Mother been his choice or his parents’? Had the marriage been arranged, as Levi said his parents’ had been? She wanted to know, wanted to ask. She’d never heard Father criticize Mother to anyone. Her parents had eight children, thirty-two grandchildren, and eight great-grandchildren. They’d been married for almost fifty years. She wanted to believe they had married by choice and for love. When Father said things like this, though, she wondered.
The truth was, Mother was a hard person for anyone to love.
The trolley came to a stop.
Passengers climbed off and on.
Reba leaned forward and placed an affectionate kiss on her father’s bearded cheek. “If God desires for me to marry Levi, then God will have to show me.”
In a gentle tone, he asked, “Would you be open to his courtship?”
She thought for a long moment. She’d never looked at Levi as a suitor. While he had his good traits, his future had been laid out by his parents. A dairyman he would always be. She was never going back to the farm. If she had to live in that smothering environment, she’d become as bitter and spiteful as her mother. It wasn’t that farm life was torturous. She knew many people who loved it.
Life on the farm merely wasn’t for her.
As the trolley started in motion, Reba settled back against her seat. “Any possible feelings for him are inconsequential. I don’t believe Levi actually wanted to marry me. I’m not his choice. I was convenient for him. He’s never had to make an effort to court a girl, because I was always there.”
Father nodded with apparent understanding … and maybe even agreement. “What if he makes an effort?”
“He won’t.” That strange ache was back again in her chest. She turned to the window. The dust from the road, even if blown occasionally in her face as the trolley whizzed along, was a minor inconvenience compared to travel on a wagon or inside a suffocating carriage. “I know Levi. There’s nothing he loves more than raising corn and cows.”
“Have you listened to him talk about his work at the Extension Office? That boy loves horticulture more than cows.”
Reba released a soft humph. That was news to her. “Clearly he and I aren’t as good friends as I’d thought.”
Father patted her hand. “Sweetheart, know one thing: men don’t like to change. Ever.”
“Then that’s proof he won’t make an effort.”
Diehl Farm, north of Parker, South Dakota
Sunday, October 11
“May I speak to Reba?” Levi asked as politely as he could with Mrs. Diehl glaring through the screened door at him, her usual expression. He tapped his cap against his thigh. “She wasn’t in church this morning. Nor Mr. Diehl. I figured they were sick.”
Her lips were tighter than the pinned gray curls around her head. She dried her hands on the apron around her waist. “The pair left over a week ago for Sioux Falls.”
Left? Levi ignored the burst of panic in his chest. He needed to talk to Reba. He had to make things right.
He clenched his cap. “When will they return?”
“If they had any sense,” she said haughtily, “they would have never left, but everyone in Turner County knows Mr. Diehl can’t say no to his youngest daughter. Don’t matter that the girl is as senseless as they come.”
Reba had her flaws, as did everyone, but senseless? She was smart and good-hearted, and could cheer anyone up, because she knew how to make the best of any situation.
Levi looked at the setting sun. Red-gold streaks painted the horizon. He’d spent many an evening on the Diehls’ covered porch in the swing, watching the sun set. Every time he returned home from college, he could find Reba on the porch waiting for him.
He faced Mrs. Diehl again, her scowl unabated. “How long will they be gone?”
She shook her head. “Go home, Levi. She’s not coming back. Ever. She filled a wagon with those crates of hat goods she ordered from the East Coast. She might as well just burn her money. You should be thankful she jilted you. Mr. Diehl’s youngest daughter has a wanderlust that can’t be tamed. She rebels against all that’s good for her. Better for her to leave you now than leave you after you marry.”
He felt his spine stiffen. The need to defend Reba prodded at him. Mrs. Diehl, though, was the type of woman who never admitted when she was wrong. Trying to convince her of that was futile. Could he fault Reba for wanting to leave home? Her mother had none of Abraham and Sarah’s joy at having a child in old age.
Why Sioux Falls?
The air was fresher out here in the country. They could have married and lived on the land Reba had inherited from her grandmother. Sixteen miles down the road on one hundred and sixty perfect acres.
“All right then.” He started to leave then stopped before backing onto the step. “When will Mr. Diehl return?”
“Maybe tomorrow, maybe next week.” She muttered something under her breath. “He’s helping his youngest build hat stands. If he calls, I’ll let him know you stopped by. It’ll be dark soon. Grab one of Peder’s lanterns from the barn.”
“Thank you, but I rode over instead of walking.” Levi tried to smile. Every time he spoke to Mrs. Diehl he felt worse for wear. Too often he’d sat by in silence, listening to her rebuke of Reba. What kind of man did that make him? A coward who wouldn’t defend the woman he loved. But not anymore. He straightened his shoulders. “Mrs. Diehl, her name is Reba, and she’s your daughter, too. She has as much sense as anyone.”
After a pffft, she closed the door. The bolt latched.
Levi slapped his hat on his head. He slid his hands in his coat pockets then trudged down the steps. As he walked to where he’d tied his gelding, he spared a glance over his shoulder. Light glowed in the front window of the two-story white-framed farmhouse. The Diehls had never had to worry about money, not any more than any other farmer in Turner County did, but neither were they wealthy. Save for Reba, their daughters had married well and their sons had found good women. If Reba wanted something different, who was he to criticize?
Mrs. Diehl was right. Better for Reba to jilt him now.
There were girls back at SDSU whom he could court. Nice girls. Girls who loved life on the farm. Girls who were content being a wife and mother.
Levi stopped at the hitching post and untied the reins. He rested his forehead against his saddle. Why did Reba do this? What was she thinking?
Reba didn’t know anyone in Sioux Falls. She had never lived away from family. She had never been gone from home for more than a few days. During the six years he attended SDSU, he’d missed
his family. He’d come home at every opportunity. What Reba needed wasn’t life in Sioux Falls. What she needed was a place she felt loved and valued. Where she felt like she was a valued contributor. Where she wasn’t criticized and belittled.
What she needed was to marry him and move into his parents’ home. They loved Reba. They’d welcome her. The four of them could have the perfect life, just as he’d imagined. Everything Reba needed to be happy was here in Turner County. It was just at a different house—his house.
Tomorrow, he’d go to Sioux Falls and convince Reba to come home. And if she still wanted to make hats, she could make them here. His mother crocheted. Every woman needed a hobby. A good husband supported his wife’s leisurely interests.
Chapter 4
“[A] foundation of wire will prove stronger and better fitting. Those wires which we place around the divisional lines of a shape we may call the ROUND wires; while those which keep the shape erect … are called the SUPPORTS.”
—Practical Millinery
The next day
Levi admired the awning over the door to Reba’s shop. Unlike the weathered, dingy white one over the next-door bakery, hers was crisp, bright white, and clean. There in the glass, centered and etched near the top of the window, were the words:
R. DIEHL
FINE MILLINERY
Underneath the wording was a display of fancy hats and a sign saying OPENING NOVEMBER 2. A wall of white fabric, about half as tall as the window, blocked any view into her boutique yet left space above it for natural light to come into the shop.
He knocked on the door.
A trio of young ladies exited the bakery, all wearing fancy hats like the ones Reba favored. One said, “Oh,” and the other two gave him friendly smiles.
The “oh” girl said, “Hello. The millinery won’t open for another two weeks.”
“I know the owner.”
The brunette regarded him intently. “Is she, umm, your sister?”
“She’s my fiancée.”
Her smile fell.
One of the ladies with her tugged on her arm. “Come on. Mother said we have to have our shopping done by noon.”
Levi watched as the trio continued on until they reached the entrance to the Bee Hive Department Store. With the trolley, automobiles, and horse-drawn vehicles on the road, there were a lot of people passing by. He had to give Reba credit. She’d chosen an excellent location for her millinery.
He knocked on the door again, this time with more emphasis.
Within moments, a clicking sounded. The door opened.
Mr. Diehl’s frown turned into an immediate grin. “Levi, it is good to see you.” He propped the door open by wedging a triangular piece of wood under it. He brushed his hands on his paint-stained overalls then shook Levi’s hand. “Come in, come in. I need to have Reba put a bell for the door on her shopping list.”
Levi climbed two steps then entered the well-lit shop smelling like it had been painted and wallpapered recently. Along each side were white shelves and cabinets with red-and-gold geometric-stripe wallpaper. Two mirrors were diagonally across from each other. He could see how that made sense—who wanted to see the reflection of a mirror inside a mirror inside a mirror and so on?
“Tomorrow the men are coming to install the tin ceiling tiles,” Mr. Diehl said, drawing up next to Levi. “Reba bought a crystal chandelier to go in the center of the ceiling, and she’ll have wall sconces around the room.”
“Seems a bit fancy for South Dakota.”
“Women like pretty things.”
“You’ve done a lot of work in a week.”
“Nah, we just had to clean the place then paint and hang wallpaper. All the cabinets are from the previous tenant.” He slapped Levi’s shoulder. “What brings you to Sioux Falls?”
“Reba.” Levi turned to the back entrance, which must lead to a workroom. “Is she here? I need to talk to her.”
“I imagine you would.” Her father’s voice lowered. “Look, son, you’ve not ever had to worry about chasing my daughter or compete with another man for her attention. If you truly love Reba, you’re going to have to convince her.”
“I love her enough to come here.”
Mr. Diehl patted Levi’s shoulder. “Let me let you in on a little secret. Women take a lot of convincing. Even when you do convince them of your feelings, you still have to remind them daily or they start doubting again.” He turned and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Reba!”
“Be there in a jiffy!” was her response.
“Seeing what time it is …” Mr. Diehl motioned to a stool. “Why don’t you have a seat? I’ll run down the street and pick us up something to eat from the café.” He grabbed a well-worn straw hat from the counter.
Levi settled on the stool.
Mr. Diehl hadn’t been gone a minute when Reba strolled into the room, wearing a loose calico work dress that did nothing for her petite figure. Even so, she was beautiful enough to make his eyes ache from staring.
Reba stared at the clipboard in her hand. “Father, I have some extra dollars in the decorating budget. What do you think about buying a few—” She looked up. “—plants? Levi, what are you doing here?”
He jumped to his feet, snatching his cap off his head, his hair falling forward. “I came to bring you home.” He said it in his usual confident-of-my-decision-because-I-know-what-is-best tone.
“N–no,” Reba stuttered. “I’ve invested hundreds of dollars into starting my millinery. I’m not leaving now, no matter what you say.”
As his green eyes—one obscured by a lock of walnut-colored hair—studied her, Reba regarded him carefully. How odd. She’d always thought of Levi as a fairly nice-looking man with no exaggerated or distracting features. Now, as he stood there in his three-piece Sunday suit, and even with a bit of sadness in his eyes, she decided he was an eminently handsome man. Certainly a plus in his favor. He should have no problems finding a young woman attracted enough to him to forsake indoor plumbing.
“I’ve thought about what you said at the fair before you ended … us.” He cleared his throat. “You were right.”
Reba stayed silent.
He raked his fingers through his hair. “I never proposed, so I had no right to presume we were engaged. The way I see it, there isn’t only one person in life who can make us happy in marriage. My parents agreed and suggested that, since you insisted we would only be friends, I make a list of other girls I could court. I know that’s not romantic of me to admit, but you’ll only get the truth from me.” He cleared his throat. “I made a list of eight girls. When I couldn’t decide which girl to contact first—well, that’s when I knew.”
“Knew what?” she said and didn’t feel bad at the wariness in her tone.
“There could be another girl who could make me happy in marriage, but I don’t want to look for her. I want you, Reba Diehl. You.”
“Y–you want me?”
He nodded and gripped his cap with both hands. “Love is a choice, and I choose to love you. Will you marry me?”
He sounded serious. He looked serious. But her heart didn’t flutter, her breath flee, or her body feel wistful and warm. Even if he truly did love her—and she had her doubts—she wasn’t in love with him. And he couldn’t carry the love load for the both of them. Granted, not all marriages began with love. Levi’s parents’ marriage hadn’t, but Reba didn’t know a couple more doting, more attentive, more in love. And they’d been married for forty-eight years.
“You don’t love me. You only want to marry me because I’m comfortable and convenient.” Reba held up a hand. “Wait. Hear me out. Let’s say I married you—and please, do not presume I have agreed—how often would we come to town? Not Parker Township. I mean Sioux Falls.”
“We could visit a few times a year.” He must have seen something in her expression, because he added, “One weekend a month. During the summer we’d stay for a week.”
That was his concession. That was what he
figured it took for her to toss away the hundreds of dollars she’d spent so far on starting her business.
One measly weekend a month and one measly week in summer.
With a humph, Reba set her clipboard on the nearest butcher-paper-covered counter. “Do you like horticulture more than cows?”
He gave her a strange look. “What does that have to do with us getting married?”
“Nothing—everything. We’ve never talked about what you like.” She released a frustrated breath. “Do you enjoy doing accounting for the family farm?”
“It’s why I went to college,” he grumbled. “Don’t you want to be a wife and mother?”
“Yes! Someday when I’m ready.”
He waved his hand at nothing in particular. “So you’re going to waste hundreds of dollars on a hobby until you decide you’re ‘ready’ to be a wife?”
Reba froze. She wanted to argue that this wasn’t a hobby, that if Levi moved to Sioux Falls, she’d be open to courting him. If their feelings for each other changed—deepened into real love—then she could see herself marrying him. If he moved. If he changed. If he realized life back home wasn’t as wonderful as life here.
Reba moistened her lips. In a soft voice, she said, “Levi, do you really like living at home with your parents?”
“Yes.” And there was that implied “Why shouldn’t I?”
Father was right. Men don’t like to change.
“Don’t you want your own home?” she asked.
He didn’t have to speak for her to know his thoughts. He’d had his soon-to-be-own-home … until she sold it and the land it was on.
