The Shotgun Proposal

by Barbara Goss

  He pulled a chair out for Elsa and took one for himself across from her. He passed each dish to her and she helped herself. He noticed she was a light eater. Perhaps she was nervous. Did she think there would be a wedding night? He couldn’t make love to a woman he didn’t love, married or not.

  Suddenly, she looked at him and said softly, “Danke.”

  He thought it sounded like “thankee,” and she looked thankful, so he nodded and smiled, hoping it said she was welcome. So, she was appreciative of being saved from her father. The fact made him feel a bit better.

  After they’d eaten, he walked her upstairs to her room, the one Clara had settled her into, but her suitcase and possessions were gone. He looked all over the room, but there were no personal belongings in the room. He showed her his index finger, the signal to wait. He walked across the hall and into his room where he spotted her suitcase and all her other things and sighed. Clara must've thought Elsa would move into his room after they'd married. Now, what was he to do?

  He took the suitcase and all of her accessories back into the spare bedroom, taking several trips. When he was done, he patted the bed as if to say, this is your room. She misunderstood, blushed, and started to unbutton her dress.

  “No!” he said a bit too loudly. Thinking he might hit her, she cowered, holding her hands over her head. Rance reached out and took her hand. He shook his head, then he put his hands together and laid them on his cheek, as one would to indicate sleep.

  Elsa nodded.

  He kissed her forehead, backed out of the room and closed the door.

  Though Rance felt compassion for her, being alone with no one who spoke her language, more and more he thought as if he’d nevertheless made a huge mistake. Instead of doing this woman a favor, he’d given her a life of more loneliness than she’d had before. She’d soon miss her mother and sisters. He’d tell Clara to relate to her that while they would be welcome to visit, her father was not. He also wanted Clara to let her know that her husband would never strike her, ever.

  Elsa had felt uncomfortable, standing at an altar where a man read words from a book she couldn’t understand. She’d known it was a marriage ceremony, but she wished she'd understood exactly what she’d agreed to. Instead of repeating vows, Clara had told her the minister would ask her if she agreed to the vows and she was to simply nod, so that was what she had done.

  On the ride home, she felt so lonely for her mother and sisters who should have shared the day with her, that she couldn’t hold back the tears. Now she was this man’s wife and she didn’t even know him. She prayed to the Virgin Mary and all the saints that he would be a kind husband.

  She wondered why, after they’d eaten, he’d taken her to the spare room. Earlier, Clara had helped her bring her things to his room, as was proper for a married couple. She felt disappointed and confused when Rance had brought her things back to the spare room. When he'd patted the bed, she'd thought he wanted to consummate the marriage in that room, so she'd started to unbutton her dress. When he'd yelled loudly, Elsa thought he was going to hit her for doing something wrong.

  Then he'd shown her it was for sleeping, and he'd wanted her to stay in the spare room. He hadn't desired her enough to want to consummate the marriage, it seemed. She was relieved, in a way, and disappointed in another. She didn’t know why she’d felt the disappointment, except that she'd liked Rance, and would have been happier had he been attracted to her even just a bit.

  She slipped on her nightgown and crawled into bed. After saying her prayers, she laid awake, wondering what her new life would bring. She hoped her mother and sisters would be welcome to visit or else she’d miss them terribly, especially Marta.

  Rance was a handsome man, although he’d be better looking if he smiled more. He was rich, but that meant little to her. She’d have been happy living with Emil in a shack because she knew he'd loved her as he’d kissed her several times and had pledged his love to her; she’d miss him.

  She was thankful that while living in Russia, she’d lived in a German community and knew more German than Russian. It would surely come in handy when speaking to Clara, and it would give her one person with whom she could have conversations. Clara spoke in high German, while the German Elsa spoke was low German, with a Russian infusion.

  She wanted children someday, but how would she ever become a mother if her husband wouldn't share her bed? She should have run off with Emil instead of trying to go about marrying him the right way, being courted with her father’s permission. She knew Emil desired her—too much, in fact, and she'd had to fight him off once they'd started kissing, yet she’d managed to keep him in line. She would have had many children with Emil.

  In the morning, she washed, dressed, and went downstairs to find Clara busy in the kitchen, as usual. She greeted her in German, saying, “Guten Morgen, Frau Clara.”

  “Guten Morgen!” Clara exclaimed, and then continued in German slowly, trying to stick with words that were fairly close to that of low German. “Sit down," she said. "I have eggs, ham, and toast.”

  Elsa thanked her and sat down. “Clara, would you teach me English so I can speak to the people here, especially my husband?” Elsa felt sure she might grow closer to Rance if she were able to have a conversation with him.

  “Yes, of course,” she said as she set a breakfast before Elsa. “Eat. Then we will begin our first lesson.”

  “Is English difficult to learn?” Elsa asked.

  “Some of the words sound the same but mean different things, but otherwise, it is a very easy language. People who speak English speak faster than people who speak German. I’m not sure why that is. I've visited relatives of my late husband who lived in North Carolina, and they talked so fast, I wasn't able to keep up with their English at all.”

  “Were you born in Germany?” Elsa asked.

  “No, I was born in Ohio. My parents were born and reared in Germany, and so we spoke both languages in our home. I met Mr. Long in Ohio, we married, and came to Kansas to take advantage of the land grant. Sadly, due to ill health, he couldn’t farm anymore, and we lost almost everything.”

  “That’s sad,” Elsa said, nibbling on her toast.

  “The first year we farmed there was a drought. The second year we had locusts. The third year another drought. My husband died the fourth year. It was a shame because it was a perfect year for crops and we had none,” Clara said.

  “Did you have children?”

  “No. I’d always hoped for a child, but was never blessed with one.”

  “I want a child, also,” Elsa said sadly. “My husband moved me back into the spare room,” Elsa said.

  “What? You had no wedding night?”

  Elsa shook her head. “He isn’t attracted to me.”

  “How could he not be? You’re lovely!”

  “I think he felt pity for me. He didn’t like the way my father beat me. My father made me trick him into marriage.”

  “What kind of trick?”

  “He told me to attract Rance, but I didn’t know how to do that. So when he delivered the horses, I fainted, as my father had instructed. He’d also ordered me to wear my nightclothes and that when Rance helped me to my feet, I should grab onto him and not let go until he and Henry entered the room.”

  “Elsa! That is awful! Why would you go along with that?” Clara said with a frown.

  “My father beats us all if we don’t do as he says, or even if we talk back to him,” Elsa explained. “I acted out of fear of a beating. Emil wanted to court me, but my father disliked him and forbid me to see him.”

  “Does your father beat your mother and sisters, too?” Clara asked.

  “Oh, yes! We huddle in fear when one of us gets a beating, afraid he’d turn on one of the others next,” Elsa told her. “At night is the worst time. He drinks Vodka and just looks for someone to beat.”

  “How sad,” Clara said.

  “I desire to make this a good marriage, but to do that I need to be able to con
verse with my husband,” Elsa said. “I will be forever grateful if you could teach me English.”

  “We’ll start as soon as I clean up after breakfast,” Clara said.

  “Where is my husband?” Elsa asked.

  “Oh, he’s out in the stables already. He starts early.”

  “Do you suppose we could keep the English lessons a secret from him? I want to surprise him someday,” Elsa said.

  After her first English lesson, Elsa sat on the porch with a glass of lemonade. She was, once again, wearing her plain dress, apron, and kerchief, since, besides the wedding dress, it was all she had. She watched her husband working with a black beast of a horse, her eyes drawn to his muscular arms as they tested the fabric of his shirt. He was a handsome man, she had to admit.

  The horse’s skin quivered whenever Rance came near and a few times the animal reared. Elsa held her breath, thinking the horse might injure him, but he somehow always managed to jump out of the way.

  She noticed that his dark brown hair was longer than most men in Victoria, reaching to the base of his neck, and she rather liked it.

  Until she was able to speak English, she had no hope at all of her husband giving her a second look, he glanced up from his work with the horse and their eyes met. Elsa quickly broke the eye contact, got up, and walked into the house. She felt shy under his gaze and didn’t know why.

  Rance saw Elsa on the porch. She was back in that drab housemaid's clothing. That would never do.

  When he was finished for the day, he went in and washed up. He followed the aroma of something delicious and found Clara, stirring a pot of chicken and dumplings.

  “Hmm, Clara, that’s just what I’d hoped you were making,” he said.

  She turned and gave him a frown. “I see you put Elsa back in the guest room.”

  So, now he had to give an accounting of his personal actions to his housekeeper? It was none of her concern, but he liked Clara, and felt she looked out for his best interests. She was also a marvelous cook and housekeeper.

  “Under the circumstances, I felt it was better, Clara,” he said. “Would you take her into town tomorrow and buy her some attractive clothing? Money is no object. Buy her the best.”

  “All right, but do keep in mind that the girl’s lonely, and—”

  “I will, Clara. Please, let it go.”

  Clara straightened and continued to stir her gravy. “I’ll take her.”

  “Would you also assure her that I'd never, ever strike her?” Rance said. “Last night, she cowered when I raised my voice, but she has nothing to fear from me.”

  “I will.”

  Rance gave Clara his best smile. “And I want you to mind the cleaning and cooking and leave my private life to me, all right?” He thought it the kindest way to tell her to mind her own business. He knew she cared, and meant well, but he felt uncomfortable telling her his personal feelings.

  “Since you’re the only one who can speak with her, relay the message that her sisters and her mother are welcome to visit, but her father is not,” Rance said.

  Chapter 4

  Clara pulled Elsa from the general store to the mercantile, picking out dresses, shoes, underthings, and nightgowns.

  “Who’s paying for all this?” Elsa asked.

  “Your husband,” Clara said, holding up a green cape. “He said there was no limit to our spending. I thought we’d take advantage of it quickly, before he changes his mind.”

  “That cape is lovely,” Elsa said, feeling the silky fabric.

  “It matches your eyes.” Clara held the cape under her chin. “Perfect.”

  “I think we’ve purchased enough, Clara.”

  “Not nearly, and we still have to have lunch at Rosie’s.”

  “Is my husband always such a generous man?” Elsa asked.

  Clara laughed. “He seems to be. Although, he did make a lot of money from the last auction, so he can afford to be generous, especially with his new wife.”

  As they ate their lunch at the eating-house, Clara said, “Your husband wants me to make a few things clear to you.”

  “Uh oh,” Elsa said between bites of her meatloaf

  “He said that you have nothing to fear from him. He’d never strike a woman.”

  “Not at all?” she asked, feeling relieved. She’d prayed for a kind husband. She smiled, and felt relief. She may never suffer another beating in her life, but she still worried about her mother and sisters.

  “He also said that your mother and sisters are welcome to visit you, but your father is not.”

  “I understand. My husband is, indeed, a very generous man. I just wish…” Elsa let her words drift into space. She hadn’t even realized she’d said it out loud until Clara remarked on it.

  “I didn’t catch that last word, Elsa—zhelaniyi. Is it Russian?”

  “Um… Elsa tried hard to think of the German equivalent to the Russian, zhelaniyi, meaning wish. She decided it was best if Clara didn’t know what she'd wished for, which was for her husband to consummate the marriage. It wasn't because he was so handsome‒at least, not entirely‒but more so she’d feel wanted, attractive, and secure as his wife. She needed to feel loved. Their marriage was forever, and she yearned for it to be a genuine marriage. Also, the more she heard about him and his generosity, a warm feeling began to stir in her chest.

  He'd let her buy all of those clothes, he was willing to let her family visit, not to mention that he'd married her out of sympathy. She wished she'd married after a romantic proposal instead of a forced one, but that was not to be.

  “It was nothing important, Clara.”

  Rance liked Manny and from what he’d seen so far, Manny had been an excellent choice as foreman. As they sat in the office, located at the back of the first and main stable, Manny gave him a full report of the work.

  “Manny, I have to deliver twelve horses to Abilene tomorrow for breeding. Will you be able to watch things while I’m gone?”

  “Yes, sir, you can count on me,” Manny said.

  “I’m taking Gus and Sam with me. We should be back in a week or so.”

  “No worries, boss,” Manny said with a mock salute.

  “Good. So far I’m pleased with your work, Manny.”

  A knock on the office door interrupted their conversation. “Enter,” Rance called.

  He was shocked to see Clara and a thin man walk in.

  “This man is looking for a job but doesn’t speak English,” Clara said. “Would you like me to interpret?”

  At first, Rance intended to dismiss the fellow. What good was a worker who couldn't speak English? Then he remembered he had a not-so-pleasant job that needed to be done and since Walter‒who performed the job‒had asked for a promotion, this may be the answer to his problem. Walter was a good worker and if he didn’t promote him, he might lose him. The man who would fill this job wouldn’t need any English—not to muck the stables.

  “I only have one job opening, Clara,” Rance said. “He can take it or leave it. It’s mucking out the stables daily, all five of them.”

  He listened while Clara interpreted the message to the man. She turned and said, “He’ll take it.”

  “Doesn’t he want to know the pay?”

  Clara spoke to him again. “He says he is desperate and will take what you can spare.”

  Rance began to wonder if he were from Victoria and if he knew Elsa.

  “Ask him if he’s from Victoria.”

  Clara asked him and he answered. “He said he’s not from Victoria, but from Hillsboro.”

  “Tell him he’s to start tomorrow. He’ll report to Manny.” Rance pointed to him. “And he is to stay away from my wife.”

  Clara nodded and relayed the message. The man bowed to Rance and said, “Danke, Danke.”

  Rance still had his doubts about the man since he was of the same nationality as Elsa. He didn’t want them to become close friends just because they spoke the same language. He might not be in love with her, but it
would be humiliating to have his wife run off with another man.

  “What’s his name?” Rance asked.

  Clara asked him and Rance jotted it down: “Emil Oberman.”

  After Rance had packed a bag for his trip in the morning, he felt it only right to let his wife know he was leaving. He called for Clara. It was so frustrating. In order to talk to his wife, he needed an interpreter. Clara knocked on his bedroom door.

  Rance opened the door, and said, “I’ll need you in order to talk with Elsa.”

  “She may have turned in already,” Clara said, clutching her robe tighter around herself.

  “Let’s find out. I think it only proper I let her know I’ll be away for a week or more. And don’t forget, keep that new fellow away from her.”

  Rance knocked on her bedroom door.

  “Komm herein!” Elsa called.

  He and Clara walked in. Elsa was sitting before her dressing table, brushing her hair. Rance yearned to touch her shiny, black tresses. She had beautiful hair that he’d only ever seen down once before, as she’d always pulled her hair back tightly into a bun.

  Elsa stared at them with a puzzled look.

  Rance was momentarily caught off guard by the beautiful sight of her sitting in a white robe, with a frilly nightgown showing at the feet and neck. She looked so different than she had in that drab dress, apron, and kerchief. She stood, and he could see she had a lovely shape, as well.

  “Ja?” she asked waiting for one of them to speak.

  Rance cleared his throat, trying not to look at her anatomy as he spoke. “Clara, tell her I’ll be away for a week or two, delivering horses.”

  Clara relayed the message.

  Elsa nodded.

  “Tell her I want her to know that I'll be gone,” Clara told her and once again, Elsa nodded.

  “Anything else, Rance?”

  “No, I guess that’s it.” He was reluctant to leave the room for some reason. He turned and walked to the door. “Tell her goodnight.”