The Bartered Bride

Mrs. Steigermann said something to her husband in German. He hesitated, then translated the question.

“My wife asks…if the father of the child is…away from here. If he is a soldier, perhaps I can send word for you—”

“No,” she interrupted. “I have nothing to say to him. Nothing.”

She hadn’t gone to Kader about her pregnancy—and wouldn’t. When she first knew that there would be a baby, she had comforted herself with fantasies of telling him. Sometimes she’d find him in the schoolroom again, only he’d be glad to see her and he’d stay glad even after she’d told him she carried his child. He’d sweep her into his arms and beg her forgiveness. He’d want them to marry immediately—

But she had no hopes of a happy ending. She had seen her parents’ loveless marriage. And Ann’s. And she knew the truth of her own situation. Kader Gerhardt didn’t care about her, and to his credit, he had never claimed that he loved her. In a moment of boredom, she had been nothing but a temporary diversion. What would he give her now if she asked? Money perhaps, but never marriage. He would deny everything, and if people did think that she and Avery had tried to trick Frederich into marrying her, who would believe her version of the truth? Her child would still be a bastard and her begging for Kader’s help would only compound her stupidity and her shame.

She forced herself to look into John Steigermann’s eyes. She saw nothing but concern there. He was a good man, a kind man—but how could he expect that she face the entire congregation?

“You know I have spoken the truth, Caroline. You know what you have to do. You will not be alone. My wife and I will stand with you.”

She abruptly bowed her head. She didn’t care about Frederich Graeber’s honor, but she did care about William and her nieces. And she cared about the child she carried. Perhaps she even cared about the German schoolmaster who had given it to her.

“You need time alone now, Caroline. We will leave you. You know what needs to be done,” he said when he reached the door. “My advice is that you ask God to help you and give you strength.”

She sat there, her mind in turmoil, hardly aware that the Steigermanns had gone.

Would Kader be there? she thought. Would he sit and watch her humiliation in silence?

Yes, she thought sadly. He would. Because they must behave properly—for her sake.

Chapter Three (#ulink_80cd7dd9-ee64-5c26-be4a-1d39a5823fa9)

Caroline had to wear her same worn-out yellow-flowered dress on Sunday morning after all. Avery might have obliged Leah by giving her one of Caroline’s better dresses, but there was a limit to John Steigermann’s free hand. He would not allow Leah to go see Avery Holt, not even for the sake of Caroline’s pitiful wardrobe. He had seen firsthand Avery’s loss of control, and he refused to permit his beloved only daughter to have anything further to do with such a violent man.

The upstairs smelled of the morning breakfast—fried ham and potatoes and cabbage and freshly baked black German bread. The smell of the food and the Schmalz, a greasy, apple and herb-flavored pork fat the Steigermanns spread on the bread, had been more than Caroline could manage. She had abruptly retreated to her small room, and she sat down to wait by the fire until John Steigermann came upstairs to tell her it was time to go to the church. If he was surprised that she would do as he asked and let Frederich officially withdraw his marriage pledge, it didn’t show. But then there was no reason for him to be surprised. His fine expectations and her obligation to him made it impossible for her not to go. It was his suggestion that they arrive ahead of the rest of the congregation. She saw the wisdom of the plan immediately. The last thing she wanted was to have to enter the church after everyone else was already seated.

The day was cold and windy. Her face looked a little better, perhaps not so swollen, but she was grateful for the loan of one of Leah’s bonnets so that she could hide from the wind and from the curious stares she was bound to encounter.

She let John Steigermann take her by the arm to escort her to the wagon waiting by the back door. She felt dead inside, not afraid so much as empty. Leah was waiting for her in the downstairs hallway, resplendent in her fine brown and coral merino wool dress and her fur-trimmed cape. Caroline kept glancing at her, acutely feeling her own shabbiness both inside and out. She wondered if Avery would have abandoned Leah if their liaison in the barn had led to a baby.

No, she thought. Leah would have brought much more to a marriage than an illegitimate child. She would have brought money and prestige and land. And the rest of the men would have given Avery a pat on the back for being clever enough to get around John Steigermann.

It was a long, cold ride down the river ferry road to the German church. The church was a square, two-story edifice of natural stone built by the German settlers who had come here from Pennsylvania in the last century. It was a fitting monument to their faith and their perseverance. She tried hard not to let it remind her of the German schoolmaster.

In spite of their clever plan, Caroline and the Steigermanns were not the first to arrive. Avery stood in the sun on the front steps. He was dressed in what passed for his Sunday finery, a severe black broadcloth coat that always needed a vigorous brushing. Caroline didn’t see William anywhere, and she guessed that Avery would have made him stay at home. She prayed that he had. The Holts had been shamed enough without William having to witness the proceedings today.

Avery was obviously waiting for her, and there was no way for her to get inside the church without going past him. She got down out of the wagon with difficulty and walked a few steps away from the Steigermanns. The graveyard that surrounded the church was quiet except for the wind in the trees and the rattle of leaves blown against the low stone wall. Her mother and father were buried here. And Ann and her lost babies. For a brief moment, she thought about crossing the wall to stand at their graves, but she knew already that she would find no comfort among their cold headstones. There was no comfort anywhere.

The Reverend Johann Rial’s house was within sight of the church. She could see the glint of the sun on the tin roof and smell the wood smoke from the chimneys. And Avery was coming toward her. She had to force herself not to turn and run. She was afraid of him, but whatever he had to say now, she preferred to hear it alone. The Steigermanns had been privy to enough of the Holt scandal.

More buggies and wagons were arriving, and Leah came to take her arm. Caroline had to force herself not to look for Kader Gerhardt among the men who were beginning to congregate on the front steps where Avery had been. Would she think less of Kader if he came—or if he didn’t?

Avery was close now.

“My father won’t let him hurt you,” Leah said quietly, and Caroline drew a long breath.

“Please, Leah. Step away so I can talk to my brother alone.”

“Caroline, he is angry still—”

“Please,” she whispered, and Leah reluctantly went to stand with her father.

Whatever Avery does, don’t let me cry, Caroline prayed.

“You deserved what you got,” Avery said when he was close enough, not caring if the Steigermanns heard him.

“Yes,” she answered quietly. “The way Leah will if you aren’t careful.”

His cheeks flushed and he reached out to grab her by the arm. She drew back instinctively, expecting to be hurt again.

“What did you tell old man Steigermann about me?" Avery said.

“I didn’t have to tell him anything. He saw what kind of man you are.”

“Damn you, Caroline! You’ve ruined everything—”

“Come, Caroline,” John Steigermann said behind her. “We go inside now. Your brother will not want to keep you out here in the cold.” He offered her his arm, and she took it gratefully. She gave Avery one last look as she walked past him. The question was still in his eyes.

Who, Caroline? Who?

“I have seen by the fine attendance this morning that you are all aware of what is about to take place today,” Johann Rial said from the high pulpit. He spoke in English now— for Caroline’s benefit, no doubt—and his eyes swept over the congregation, coming to rest on her. She felt physically ill, and she took a wavering breath. Leah reached for her hand.

Johann waited for a moment for someone’s fit of coughing to subside and for his words to be translated to the older members who spoke only German. “Those of you who are feeling relieved that my sermon has concluded,” he continued, “will be pained to hear that I have more to say. To you all. I now charge each of you to remember the Scriptures.

“Behold I was shapen in iniquity and in sin did my mother conceive me. Against Thee—and Thee only—have I sinned.

“I charge each of you to remember Our Lord’s admonishment— Let him who is without sin among you cast the first stone.

“It is also written that a bastard shall not enter into the congregation of the Lord even unto his tenth generation shall he not enter.

“I further charge you that this child in Christ be not left without salvation. Brother Graeber must follow his own conscience. But I steadfastly hope that someone among you will see fit to make an honorable and Christian offer of Holy—”

Johann Rial abruptly stopped, and Caroline could hear whispering behind her and the shuffling of feet The commotion intensified, a collective murmuring and a creaking of pews as people turned in their seats.

“What is it?” she whispered to Leah, not wanting to look around.

“It’s Eli Graeber,” Leah whispered back. “He’s standing.”

Caroline could already hear him addressing Johann Rial in German, and there was more commotion among the congregation. Leah gave a sharp intake of breath.

“What is he saying, Leah?” she whispered, squeezing Leah’s hand hard. Did Eli know about her and Kader Gerhardt after all? Surely, surely he wouldn’t stand up in church and say that she had been with the German schoolmaster.

“Eli says he is willing to offer you marriage if Frederich withdraws his pledge,” Leah said.

“He what?” Caroline cried, turning around now. Eli was indeed standing—and Frederich had him by the arm.