Cheryl Reavis (10 page)

When they were nearly through the grinning crowd, Frederich suddenly turned to the closest man.

“You wanted to say something to me, Karl?” he asked, and the man flushed bright red.

“Ah, no, Frederich—”

“I thought you did, Karl,” Frederich persisted. “I thought you wanted to say something to my face instead of behind my back.”

“Frederich, please don’t,” Caroline whispered, completely incredulous that he would initiate such a confrontation with her on his arm.

He ignored her.

“Please!” she pleaded, still whispering.

Frederich looked at her then. She was near tears or fainting. Or both.

“Come,” he said abruptly, as if confronting the man Karl had been her idea. He walked on with her, leaving the men staring after them.

Regardless of the light-headedness she felt, she let go of Frederich’s arm. “Why?” she said, her voice trembling. “Why did you do that?”

“So they will know.”

“Know what! That you can hold me up to their ridicule any time you like?”

He looked at her, surprised that she didn’t understand. “You must leave these things to me,” he said.

“To you? So that you can embarrass me? Humiliate me-?”

“Is your embarrassment—your humiliation—any worse than mine?” he asked quietly. “I did not send you to face them alone, did I?”

She looked away and didn’t answer. She stepped away from him and walked toward the Steigermann wagon.

“Papa?” Lise said at his elbow, her face filled with concern.

“Go with your Aunt Caroline,” Frederich said.

“Are you mad at her?” The word
again
hung in the air as if it had been said.

“Lise, don’t ask me about things you’re too young to understand!”

“I’m sorry, Papa,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. She gave him one last look before she scampered away.

He gave a heavy sigh.
How long?
he thought, Jobfashion. How long would his family be in turmoil because of this one woman? And he still wasn’t done with it. He had one other thing—one other person—he needed to confront today.

He began to look through the crowd for Kader Gerhardt. He saw him on the church steps talking to—trying to escape from—Beata, who clung to his arm as she related some obvious tale of woe. And whatever she was saying seemed to catch Gerhardt’s attention after a moment, sp that he wasn’t trying to get away from her anymore.

Frederich walked in their direction, again feeling his disappointment in Caroline Holt. He expected Beata’s kind of silliness where Gerhardt was concerned. Beata was far too impressed by the man’s claim of a high-placed German family. But how could Caroline Holt have let herself become infatuated with such a man? She was more than a simple farm girl, regardless of her claim this morning. She had gone to the female academy and lived in town for a number of years. She should have been able to see Kader Gerhardt for the arrogant womanizer he was.

“Beata tells me you are withdrawing Lise from my school,” Gerhardt said before Frederich could speak his mind. “It won’t do—”

“I have no intention of justifying my decision to you,” Frederich said.

“Frederich!” Beata protested. “Such disrespect! Herr Gerhardt is the schoolmaster. He is—”

“John Steigermann is waiting, Beata,” Frederich interrupted rudely. “And this is not your business.”

She stood looking at him, clearly weighing whether or not she wanted Kader Gerhardt to see her petulant side. After a moment, she smiled at the schoolmaster. “Herr Gerhardt,” she said elaborately. “I look forward to your joining us for supper again soon. I trust you will forgive us the bad impression we must have—”

“The only one who needs forgiveness for a bad impression is you, Beata,” Frederich cut in. “And
he
is not the one you should ask for it. John Steigermann is waiting.”

She gave him a withering look but managed to smile at Gerhardt one last time before she turned to go.

“My daughter will be taught at home,” Frederich said.

“I was guaranteed a certain income to come to this Godforsaken place, Graeber. With the older boys joining the army, the school can’t afford to loose even one pupil—”

“You came here to get away from a cuckolded husband who would have killed you, schoolmaster,” Frederich said bluntly. “And you were lucky to find so forgiving a man as Johann Rial to accept your services. Don’t look to me to maintain your salary.”

They stared at each other, Frederich again wondering what Caroline could have ever seen in this man.

But he knew what she had seen. A fine education and clean hands. Not some dirt-stained, ignorant farmer like her brother. And like Frederich Graeber.

“Surely you are not going to let the Holt woman teach her,” Gerhardt made the mistake of saying, and Frederich grabbed him by his shirtfront.

“She is Frau Graeber to you and I suggest you remember that.”

Gerhardt smiled and pulled Frederich’s hand away. “The nights are long, are they not, Frederich? And there is no comfort from the grave—”

Frederich would have grabbed him again, but Johann Rial was there suddenly and stepped in front of him.

“Frederich, I don’t know what this is about, but I do know this is
not
the place for it,” Johann said, a hand resting firmly on Frederich’s chest. “Kader, there are people waiting in the foyer to pay you their monthly school fees. I suggest you go and take the money they have managed to scrape together to give you.” He stood with his hand on Frederich until Kader had gone. “What is this with Kader?" he asked, his voice quiet so the passersby couldn’t hear. “Something wrong is happening here, Frederich. I think 1 should know what it is, and I ask you now, as your very longtime friend.”

“It is nothing, Johann. I…have a short temper.”

“Now
that
is the truth,” Johann answered. “But it doesn’t answer my question.”

“There is no reason for you to be concerned, Johann.”

“Indeed. If a brawl between the most prominent farmer in the county and the schoolmaster on my church steps is nothing for
me
to worry about, then let me ask this. What is happening now between you and Eli? Where is
he
this morning?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t know, Johann! Does that make you happy? He ran off the night of the wedding. I’ve been to town—to ask if anyone had seen him. No one had.”

“Why would he run off now? He stayed when you found out about him and Ann,” Johann said, Ann’s name abruptly a whisper because of a group of passersby.

“How should I know!”

“None of this should have happened, Frederich.”

“
You
are the one who stood in the pulpit and asked for a volunteer husband.”

Johann ignored his sarcasm. “What will you do?”

“Do? What is there to do? He owns half the Graeber land.”

“Then how are things with you and Caroline? You have consummated the marriage?”

Frederich didn’t answer him.

“I tell you this now, Frederich. If you don’t, that child she carries will never be yours. Caroline is very strong willed. I will speak to her—”

“No!” Frederich said. “She has been shamed enough. She doesn’t need any lectures on her marital duties from you.”

Johann stared at him for a moment, then nodded. “You are a good man, Frederich,” he said, and Frederich laughed.

“You confuse ‘good’ with ‘trapped,’ Johann. I must go. John Steigermann is waiting.”

“I will pray about this, Frederich,” Johann assured him, but Frederich held up his hand. He had had enough outside intervention in his life to last him a long while yet.

It was clear to him when he climbed into the back of the Steigermann wagon that both Caroline and Beata were still angry with him. He could tell by their rigid backs. But he couldn’t help that, and he sat down on the wagon floor with his legs stretched out in front of him. His only regret was that Lise was upset. Only Mary Louise seemed to be her usual cheerful self, and for that he was grateful. She climbed over the back of the seat as the wagon jerked forward, barely missing tumbling headfirst onto him. But she didn’t
want to sit on his lap. She wanted to sit where she could stare unabashedly into his face.

He closed his eyes, dozing in the warm sunlight as they rode toward home, John Steigermann still humming the last hymn, and his wife and daughter quietly chatting. He wondered idly what it would be like to have a peaceful family like John Steigermann’s. Even with Leah in it, Steigermann couldn’t have the aggravation
he
had.

After a time, he opened his eyes. Mary Louise was still watching him.

“Mary Louise, what is it?”

“I think I might cry,” she advised him, her face puckering just enough to show him the possibility.

“Indeed? Is there any particular reason for this crying?" he asked.

“Nobody brought any candy from town,” she said gravely.

“Nobody brought candy? Who says this about the candy?”

“Me,
Papa. Didn’t you
hear
me?”

He laughed out loud, his eyes meeting Caroline’s when she looked around to smile over her shoulder. But both their amusement immediately faded.

The ride home seemed to take forever, and Frederich realized his aggravation was far from over the moment they rode into the Graeber yard. William waited on the porch steps, his face clearly worried. He stood up immediately and bounded forward, before the wagon stopped.

“The army’s at our place, Frederich,” he said, without taking the time for amenities. “And they’re taking a lot more grain sacks than Avery wants them to have, I can tell you. If you got anything you want to keep, you better start hiding—”

“Too late,” Frederich said, looking past William toward the open field. A number of gray-uniformed horsemen were coming along the edge of the woods. He reached to lift
Beata and then Caroline over the side of the wagon. “Take Lise and Mary Louise inside,” he said to Caroline as he helped the children down to the ground.

“They are
our
soldiers, Frederich,” Caroline said.

“Yours perhaps, not mine. Soldiers are always the same. They are here to steal whatever they can. Take my children inside.”

She gathered the girls to her, but she lingered to speak to William. He hadn’t combed his hair today. It stood up in cowlicks all over his head. She forced herself to resist the impulse to mother him and make some remark about his lack of grooming. “You’ve grown a foot,” she said instead, and he grinned from ear to ear.

“I don’t know why—I ain’t had a thing decent to eat since you left. Avery ain’t no cook, that’s for sure.”

“William,” Frederich called to him. “You stay to eat with us.”

Caroline glanced at Beata, who wanted to object but for some reason didn’t, and William’s grin widened.

“Much obliged, Frederich. I sure was hoping to get fed. And I was kind of hoping to get that horse of Avery’s, too, while I was at it.”

“Is that the reason Avery sends you?” Frederich asked, his eyes still on the line of horsemen coming along the edge of the plowed field.

“Lord Almighty, no!” William said. “Avery’s too scared to send me to do that.”

“Why would Avery be afraid for you to get his horse?" Caroline asked.

“Aw, you know. If he sent me, Frederich might say for him to act like a man and come get it himself—boy, he’s been as mad as an old wet hen since him and Frederich had their little discussion. So I thought I’d see if I couldn’t get it for him as long as I was over here.” He eyed Caroline closely. “You know, your face looks a damn sight better than Avery’s does.”

“William, don’t swear,” Caroline chided him, annoyed both by his tactlessness and by his language.

“Beg your pardon,” he said, his response run together and automatic from all the years Caroline had clearly wasted trying to teach him how to behave. He did, however, manage to look a bit sheepish.

“You’re a good brother to Avery,” Frederich said, patting the boy on the back. “You take the horse—but you stay to eat with us first—if
our
soldiers don’t take Beata’s Sunday chicken right out of the pot.”

Caroline ignored his sarcasm and walked with the girls and William a few steps toward the porch.

“William,” John Steigermann called. “Do they pay money to Avery for the grain?”

“Same piece of paper you got, Mr. Steigermann. The one you have to take to the garrison in town,” William said, and John Steigermann shook his head.

“You’d better go, John,” Frederich said. “If they come to your place again, you’ll want to be there.”

Mr. Steigermann added a final comment to Frederich in German, then cracked his whip sharply, and the wagon lurched forward.

“Go inside, Caroline,” Frederich said again, because the first of the soldiers was about to ride into the field near the far corner of the yard.

“Frederich—”

“When these men are gone, we will talk.”

She allowed herself to look into his eyes; it was the only way she could halfway tell what he was actually feeling. This time, however, his eyes told her nothing.

“Where’s Eli?” William asked, looking from one of them to the other.

“None of your business!” Caroline said. “Come inside—all of you.”

“This is exciting!” Lise said as Caroline hurried along. Beata was already at work in the kitchen, but they all con
gregated to watch Frederich and the Confederate officer from the window. The officer seemed to be doing all the talking. Frederich stood silent and grim. After a moment they walked off to the barn.

“Reckon that soldier’s going to come out looking like Avery?” William wondered, taking a few boxing jabs at the air.

“William, for heaven’s sake!” Caroline said.

“You ain’t
seen
our brother, Caroline. I’d worry for anybody going off with Frederich when he’s looking the way he’s looking right now.”

But the officer came out of the barn looking fine. He stood talking to Frederich for a time, then handed him a piece of paper.

“Is he the same one who came to the house?” Caroline asked William.

“That’s him. Kept asking me why I wasn’t in the army. Said he had boys younger than me in his company—I’m going outside,” he said abruptly.