Cheryl Reavis (3 page)

“You have to be there, Caroline.”

“Why? I didn’t have anything to do with this. I didn’t even know there was a marriage planned until—until Avery—” She broke off to keep from sobbing out loud.

“There are people who believe that you and Avery were going to fool Frederich—”

“The marriage was Frederich’s idea,” Caroline said, incredulous that she had been reduced to repeating anything Avery said as the truth. “I didn’t know about it—”

“You must go to the church. It is the only thing you can do for the reputation of your family. Not for Avery, but for Ann’s daughters and for your little brother, William. You must say that the withdrawal of the marriage pledge is acceptable to you, that Frederich has done nothing dishonorable.”

“I can’t,” she said.

“You can,” he answered. “God judges us, Caroline. No one else has the right. I believe this. My wife believes this,” he said, gesturing in her direction. “But there are the others, you see. Those are the people you must face in the church. You must show them that you will stand with your
head up, and you will let only God decide if you have sinned. You must do this for the sake of the baby and the rest of your family. And you must not leave Frederich to take the blame for what has happened to you.”

She realized that he was looking at her bruised face again, and this time she turned her head away.

“I believe that Avery Holt has more to answer for than you, Caroline,” he said gently. “But you are the one who must go to the church. Frederich is a proud man and he must save his honor. You must give it back to him.
You
must say before God that you release him from the pledge.”

“I never made any pledge!”

“Avery did. It is the same.”

“It isn’t!”

“There is the baby, Caroline,” he reminded her. “For the rest of your life you and the child will suffer the talk. It will be worse for you both if you—”

“I don’t want to do this,” she said, crying openly now.

“It’s what Frederich wants, Caroline. It’s his right to have everyone know he has done nothing wrong. What will you do? Will you run from here? Will you leave William and Lise and the little one—Mary Louise—to face what you have done?”

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.

C
aroline 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.

“Sitzt sich!”
Frederich bellowed, trying to make him sit down.

Eli pulled free and began to speak over the clamor around him.

“Eli says he owns half the land, half the farm,” Leah translated rapidly. “He says he has the right to take whoever he pleases—and his uncle is—”

Her translation was interrupted by another outburst from Frederich.

Sit down! Sit down!
Caroline prayed, as if her litany could stop whatever Eli was doing by sheer force of will.
Oh, dear God,
she thought.
Everyone will think Eli is the one.

Eli Graeber suddenly looked in her direction, but he was speaking to Johann Rial. Then he was making his way to where she sat, waiting at the end of the pew for Johann to join him.

“Eli wants to know what you say,” Leah said.

“I don’t say anything!” She sat with her head bowed, as if she could hide somehow. Everyone was staring at her— she tried desperately not to cry. She hadn’t expected this. In her worst nightmare she hadn’t expected this.

“Come, Caroline,” Leah said, trying to get her to stand up.

“No-please. No!”

“Caroline, Eli and Johann want to talk to you!” Leah whispered urgently.

“Leah, I can’t—I have to get out of here!”

She would have tried to run, but both John Steigermann and his wife had gotten up so that Eli could come into the pew and Leah was blocking the other way out. She was hopelessly trapped. Eli was actually going to address her here and now, in front of all these people.

“Caroline Holt,” he said.

She forced herself to look up at him, and she was immediately struck by two things. How determined he looked. And how unhappy.

“Eli, what are you trying to do?” she whispered, knowing he wouldn’t understand. Then she abruptly covered her face with her hands.
I can’t bear this! I can’t!

“Caroline Holt,” he said again.
“Sehen Sie mich an.”

“Eli says to look at him,” Leah translated.

“Bitte,”
Eli said. “Don’t be…afraid,” he managed in English.

Caroline turned away from him. Afraid? She wasn’t afraid. She was humiliated.

He held his hand out to her, much the way he had that day he found her on the schoolroom stairs.

“Come. We talk now,” he said. “You come away from all these—” He gestured toward the people around them. “Their business is—
not
to know—”

He stopped struggling to find the English words and simply waited, his hand still outstretched.

A farmer’s hand,
Caroline thought.
A hand like Avery’s. Like Frederich’s and her father’s.

“Kommen Sie,”
Eli said. “I…help you.”

Help?
she thought incredulously. He had made a spectacle of her. How could he
help?

He abruptly reached for her hand and she let him pull her upward, not because she intended to talk to him, but because he was the only way out of this place. When had she ever talked to Eli Graeber about anything? There was only that one time, that day in the church when he’d kept Mary Louise and Lise from seeing her. How much had he understood then? How much did he understand now?

She glanced at Johann Rial. He wanted to say something very badly. Then she took a deep breath and let Eli lead her out of the pew. They followed Johann, and she meant to keep her eyes straight ahead, to look at no one in their all too public trek to the vestry. But like a moth lured into the candle flame, at the last moment, she looked at the congregation. Her eyes immediately locked with Frederich Graeber’s, and she couldn’t keep from faltering. The raw emotion, the anger she saw there, led her to but one conclusion. Frederich Graeber wasn’t made of stone after all.

The vestry smelled of hymnals and dust and candle wax. Caroline waited for Johann to stop talking. Her breath came out in a white cloud in the frigid room, and her hands felt stiff and cold. She wanted to move to the far corner away from the door, because she truly felt that if Johann hadn’t been standing in the way, she would have bolted.

“Do you understand what’s happened?” Johann finally asked her.

“Do you?” she countered. She had no idea how she’d come to be in this predicament.

“Caroline, Frederich wants to talk to you.”

“It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?”

The door abruptly opened, and Frederich Graeber stepped into the room. Caroline caught a glimpse of the people on the nearest pews, all of them trying to get a better look. She stood with her head up, the way John Steigermann had counseled. She was not going to cry. She was
not.

Frederich glanced in Caroline Holt’s direction, but he said nothing to her, closing the door firmly behind him. “I want to know what you—and Eli—are doing?” he said to Johann in German, lowering his voice so that Leah wouldn’t hear him.

“What I am doing?” Johann said incredulously. Johann’s German was corrupted by years of speaking English and sounded wrong to Frederich’s ears. “This uproar is no doing of
mine,
Frederich. If anyone is to blame it is you and Avery Holt. The girl didn’t even know there
was
a marriage pledge until the day John Steigermann took her to his house. My only concern is for this bastard child—”

“You know what people will think!” Frederich interrupted.

“Do you
think the baby is Eli’s?”

“If I thought that, Johann, he’d be dead now,” Frederich answered, knowing full well that the only reason he
didn’t
believe it was the horrified look on Caroline Holt’s face when Eli made his bold offer. Clearly, Frederich wasn’t the only German she held in disdain.

“Yes, and the day isn’t over yet, is it, Frederich?” Johann said pointedly. “What is it you want done—or do you even know? She
is your
family member with or without the marriage pledge. Are you going to withdraw your pledge? Do you care if her baby is born a bastard or not? If you
don’t, then leave. I will find whatever way I can to save this innocent child—even if it is a marriage to Eli.”

Frederich made an impatient gesture. “I will not be indebted to Eli!”

“How much has
he
to do with your making this marriage pledge in the first place?” Johann asked bluntly.

“Everything,” he said, meeting Johann’s gaze head on.