Sarah: Bride of Minnesota (American Mail-Order Bride 32) (3 page)

Sarah didn't know if she should shout at him, walk away, or marry him. The only option that really appealed was shouting at him, and she knew that wasn't what she should do. Especially if she was going to marry him.

"You realize people will stare at me now? And wonder where I came from, right? This is not the way I wanted to be introduced to my new community."

Karl took her hands in his. "I know that, and I'm very sorry, Sarah. I do still want you to marry me."

Sarah took a deep breath, closing her eyes. "I agreed to marry you, Karl, and I will." She didn't want to though. She really wanted to hit him. Badly.

"Thank you. I'll try not to do something quite this stupid again."

She nodded, pulling her hands from his. She was still angry, and she'd have to pray to get over it. If he was to be her husband, she had to respect him, which may be hard for a little while.

"Are you ready to marry?" he asked softly, worrying that he was never going to be able to make up for his bad behavior even before she arrived.

"I am." She walked toward the front of the church, not waiting for him. She stood before the pastor and Karl came to stand beside her.

"What's your name?" the pastor asked her, his eyes full of humor.

"Sarah Brody," Sarah answered for what was probably the last time. Her name was about to be Sarah Schneider, and she still didn't know the man. Why hadn't Keela warned her what it would feel like to marry a stranger?

Pastor Klink slowly walked them through their marriage vows. "Do you, Sarah Brody, take this man, Karl Schneider to be your legally wedded husband? To love, honor, and cherish for as long as you both shall live?"

Sarah was happy not to hear the word "obey" in the vows. While she knew it was important that she respect her husband, at that moment she couldn't imagine obeying a man who was such a
—
dunce! As soon as the word hit her brain, she was repentant. "I do."

The pastor seemed to know exactly what she was thinking, and he coughed to stifle a laugh before continuing. "Do you Karl Schneider, take this beautiful woman, Sarah Brody, to be your lawfully wedded wife? To love, honor, and cherish her for as long as you both shall live?"

Karl nodded eagerly. "I do."

"I now pronounce you man and wife. Karl, you may kiss your bride."

Karl caught Sarah by the waist and pulled her to him, brushing his lips across hers. "We're married now," he said to Sarah with a grin.

God help me.
Sarah turned back to the pastor. "Thank you for marrying us, pastor. We'll see you on Sunday."

"You certainly will. Glad to have you in our congregation, Sarah."

"Thank you, pastor." She turned toward the door, Karl at her side. "Are you still planning to take me to lunch now?" she asked quietly.

"Yes, if you're still willing to go."

Sarah nodded. Letting everyone he knew see her as soon as possible seemed like the best course of action. That way people wouldn't be walking up to her for weeks and months startled that she wasn't disfigured.

"There's a diner between here and home. Their food is good, and their pies and cakes are wonderful."

"How is the food situation at home?" she asked, thinking about the cooking and baking that would be expected of her.

Karl frowned. "Well, there isn't any. I usually get a plate to go from Mrs. Norman's house. She does my laundry too."

Sarah nodded. "Could we stop at a store on the way home? After lunch maybe?"

Karl pulled out his pocket watch to check the time before nodding. "If you can keep it short, that would be fine. I'm much less worried about you getting me a lot for my money than I am getting in and out quickly."

Sarah didn't even know how to respond to that. She'd been raised in an extremely frugal household, and money had gotten even tighter since she'd moved out on her own. "I will do my best."

He stopped the wagon in front of a small diner, walking around the wagon to help her down. He led her into the small building, waving to the waitress. He took a seat at a small table by the window at the side of the building. "Do you eat here a lot?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I can't cook, and I've never married, but I've been on my own for eight years. Mrs. Norman helps. I come here some. I eat a lot of things that don't need to be cooked. It's survival."

"Why didn't you learn to cook?" she asked. She couldn't imagine not doing everything she could to be self-sufficient.

"Why? I always knew I'd marry someday, even if my future wife was hideously disfigured." At Sarah's scowl he put his hands up as if to protect himself. "Too soon to joke about that?"

"It will
always
be too soon," she answered, glaring at him.

"I'm sorry. I really am. If it helps, I think you're beautiful."

"I don't think how I look on the outside should matter much at all. Have you not read the Bible? Proverbs 31 talks all about the worth of a woman, and her appearance isn't part of it. You should worry less about my appearance and more about the kind of woman I am. Don't you think?"

He sat back, stunned. "That is true. But isn't there something in the Bible that says a wife should not rebuke her husband as well?"

She sat back, biting her lip. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have corrected you that way. You're absolutely right. I guess I may need to work on how I treat you as well as worrying about what you say to me." She sighed. "I'm sorry I said that. It was angry and judgmental. The Bible also says that I should remove the beam from my own eye before complaining about the splinter in yours." Her eyes met his. As shamefully as he'd behaved, she'd been just as bad by judging him. "I'm very sorry."

He reached out and took her hand, winding his fingers through hers. "Maybe we could start over? You could try to forget I told everyone you were hideously disfigured, and I could remember that I need to see what's on your inside? And stop worrying so much about your physical appearance?"

She nodded. "That sounds like a smart way to handle it, Karl. You're my husband now, and if we're to get along well together, there's no need to hold a grudge."

"I'm glad. I don't want to start married life with an angry wife."

He must be smarter than he looks.
Sarah nodded, more determined than ever to make her marriage to this man work. She'd said the words that would tie her to him forever, so she needed to abide by her promise, no matter how crazy he made her.

After lunch, Karl took Sarah to the general store in town, introducing her to the proprietor. "Sarah, this is Mr. Fredericks. He owns the store, and if you come without me, he will put things on my account for me. Mr. Fredericks, my new wife, Sarah."

"Why, Karl, what a trick you played on all of us! She's a beauty." The older man, with white hair, a beard, and laughing blue eyes, smiled. "We are happy to have you here, Sarah."

Sarah smiled sweetly at Mr. Fredericks. "Thank you for the welcome. I'm happy to be here."

"Hurry and get what you need, Sarah. I need to get back to work as soon as I can."

Sarah nodded, hurrying through the store and picking out the things she needed. She piled things carefully on the counter. "And I'll need five pounds of flour and the same of sugar."

When she was finished, Karl paid for everything and smiled at her. "That was very fast. Thank you."

Sarah nodded. "Just make sure I know how to get here if I need to come back." She thought she'd gotten everything, but with him watching her shop while tapping his foot impatiently, she couldn't be sure.

Karl paid for her purchases. "Please have everything delivered, Mr. Fredericks."

"Of course, Karl. We'll have it there within the hour."

Karl took Sarah's arm and led her out of the store. "We have electricity at my house, and there is an ice box as well. I've rarely used it, but I am sure with you cooking we'll need to start."

His words startled Sarah. "Electricity? And an ice box? Really?" She'd never dreamed of having such luxuries. Why would a man have an ice box and never use it?

He laughed. "Yes, really. I know you have these things back East."

"Yes, but I've never lived anywhere they were." She shook her head. She'd seen his house, and it was much grander than she'd ever lived in, but she was startled to hear that it had electricity. Why, she must have married a rich man indeed.

He helped her up into the wagon and she waited as he ran around the front to take the reins. "Thank you for taking the time to let me shop so I can cook a proper meal," she said. It occurred to her that the meals she'd purchased food for were meals like she would have cooked for her family or with her friends and roommates, not meals fit for a man who had electricity in his home. She hoped she didn't embarrass him with her frugality.

He stopped in front of the house, and after helping her down, led the way to the front door, opening it widely for her. "There is much to be done to make it a home," he said by way of apology just before she stepped over the threshold.

Sarah looked around the house, her heart filling with dismay. He had this beautiful home, and he had let it fall to this state of filth? There was very little decoration, only serviceable furniture. "Will you mind if I make curtains? And hang things on the walls?"

He shook his head. "I didn't bother with any of that, because I didn't have time, and I knew when I married my wife would want to change it all anyway." He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "I'll get your bags from the wagon, and then leave you to it. Have a good day, Sarah."

Sarah stood still for a moment, looking at the mess around her. He had a pile of old newspapers he'd read stacked beside an overstuffed armchair. A couch looked as if it had been slept on many times. He didn't seem to be someone who threw trash everywhere, but he certainly didn't know the meaning of the word "clean." She had much to do before she was willing to even cook in this house.

She heard a thump from behind her as he dropped her bags inside the door. "What time will you be home?" she asked, wondering how long she'd have to try to make a dent in cleaning.

"Around five thirty most nights unless something keeps me at the office for longer. I work Monday through Saturday." With those words, Karl closed the door behind him.

Sarah stared at the door for a moment, and then she took her bags to a small room she found at the base of the stairs. Karl obviously used the big room. She changed into a work dress and pulled a big apron on to cover it. She had about four and a half hours before her husband was home, and she was determined to make the most of them.

She looked into the other room with a closed door there on the first floor and found a small bathroom, and she smiled. She walked to the sink and turned on the water, thrilled to have running water in her home. And a bathroom! She wouldn't have to use a chamber pot, even in the dead of winter. Yes, this was a wonderful surprise.

She started in the kitchen, working to clean up the mess there. There were few dishes, and most of the mess was from the room's obvious disuse. There was a thick layer of dust on everything, including the stove.

She got rid of the dust, did the few dishes that were there, and was just about to tackle the floors when a knock came at the front door.

She hurried through the house, opening the door wide. A young man was standing there with two big boxes of goods. "Where do you want them, ma'am?"

"Oh, would you put them in the kitchen please?"

The boy hurried through the house with the first of the boxes, dropping it on the kitchen table. "Did you just move in?"

With the state of the house, she had no question why the boy had asked. "Yes, I moved in just this morning," she told him honestly, omitting the fact that her husband had lived there for years.

"I'll get the other box." He rushed from the room, returning a minute later.

"Thank you," Sarah said with a smile. "I appreciate you bringing them into the house this way."

"Oh, it's no problem, ma'am. Have a good day!" He hurried out the door, and she heard the front door shut behind him.

Sarah frowned at the food in the boxes. She hadn't had time to clean off the shelves for food yet, but she would do that now. And she needed to see if the icebox was empty. If so, she could put things into it immediately.

The icebox looked as if it had never been used, so she set the things that needed to be cold into it. She was excited to have such a modern convenience. It would make cooking for her new husband so much easier. Her mind wandered as she put things away and cleaned off the shelves. She couldn't help but wonder if Roberta was finding her new home so welcoming.

She hummed under her breath as she worked, enjoying the hard physical labor, because she was used to it. She'd always felt that a woman who forgot what hard labor was, meant she was forgetting what it was to be one of God's children.

Once the kitchen was clean, she put some beans on to soak for dinner, and she cut off a few slices of bacon to flavor them with. Then she returned to her task of scrubbing the kitchen floor.

An hour later, the beans were boiling and the floor was spotless, so she moved on to the next room, which was his bedroom. There was a mess there, with clothes strewn all over the floor and a bed that looked as if the sheets hadn't been changed for many months. She couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't had his kindly neighbor wash his sheets while she was doing everything else.

She opened the door that obviously led to the basement, going down the steps carefully, because it was dark. When she reached the bottom, she lifted the lamp she'd brought with her, to look around and see what was there.

The basement was lined with shelves, obviously meant to store jars of canned goods, but there was not one jar down there. This would be an ideal place for her to hang their laundry during the cold winter months.

She hurriedly went back up the stairs to fetch a broom and her pail and scrub brush, cleaning off the shelves down there. Yes, the more she cleaned, the more she could see that this would be a perfect place for her to both wash and hang the laundry when it was too cold to hang it outside. No one wanted their laundry to freeze still instead of drying. She would have to start on that tomorrow.

Going back up the stairs, she opened a chest at the foot of his bed, and she found some clean sheets and a quilt, so she stripped the bed and made it nicely. She went to the top of the basement stairs and gave the dirty linens a good heave, throwing them down the steps. Next, she gathered up his dirty clothes and did the same thing, pitching them down the stairs to be dealt with the next day.

She used a broom and mop in his room until it was clean enough that she could sleep in it without being bothered by it, and then she opened the window and left the door open, hoping it would air out nicely. There was a faint musty scent in the room, probably from all of his dirty clothes.

She returned to the kitchen and mixed up a batch of corn bread to go with the beans, and then she stirred up the batter for a cake. She knew he'd be hungry when he came home, and she wanted to have everything just perfect for the evening meal.

Sarah shook her head as she thought of how everyone in town had expected her to be deformed in some way, but she did her best not to let it bother her. She said a quick prayer to ask God to help her forgive her husband. He'd obviously not meant anything bad by it, but the words hadn't hurt any less.

When Karl stepped in the door at the end of the day, he saw that his parlor had been swept and mopped, and his newspapers removed. He could smell something cooking in the kitchen, and he followed his nose to find his bride, pulling a pan of corn bread from the oven. "That smells delicious."

Sarah jumped, whirling around to face him. "You frightened me."

He laughed. "I said I'd be home at five thirty, and it's half past now."

She nodded. "I'm sorry. I just didn't hear you come in." She waved him toward the sink. "Wash your hands and I'll put dinner on the table. I hope you're hungry."

"Starving," he told her, washing his hands all the way up to his elbows. He moved to sit at the table, watching her work.

She filled two bowls with beans, and then cut cornbread for each of them. She took his bowl of beans to him along with his cornbread, and then went back for hers. "Would you like water or milk with your dinner?" she asked.

"Milk sounds good."

She filled two glasses with milk, and then sat down at the table with him.

Karl immediately took her hand and bowed his head, praying over their meal. When he was finished, he looked down at his beans. "I don't think a meal has been cooked in this house for as long as I've lived here. I always go to my brother's house for holidays."

"Will we continue that tradition?" she asked, wondering what his brother was like. She hoped he had a family she would like, because she had no one here but the kindly lady next door.

"Oh, I don't see why not. You wouldn't mind, would you?"

She shook her head. "I have no one here."

"Who do you have at home?" he asked, wondering who she'd left behind. "Did you have a sweetheart back East?"

She shook her head. "No, never a sweetheart. I had some friends that I shared a small apartment with."

"No family?"

"My family is huge. I have four sisters and two brothers, but they're all married with children. We've scattered across the country. The only thing for anyone back in Lawrence were the mills, and none of the others wanted to spend the rest of their lives in them. I didn't either, but
—
well, I enjoyed my freedom. Being married takes some of that away from me."

"You feel like marriage is a loss of freedom?" he asked, perplexed.

"For a woman it is. Think about it. My father died when I was sixteen, and my mother when I was eighteen. For the past four years, I've had no one to answer to but myself and God. If my conscience let me do something, then it was all right for me to do. Now, if I want to spend money, I must ask my husband. If I want to go see my friend in the next city over, I must ask my husband. A little over a month ago, I got on a train with a friend on a moment's notice, and no one cared. Now, I think it would upset you if I did so."

He frowned. "I never thought about it that way. I guess I'm losing my freedom too, though. How would you feel if I hopped on a train with no notice and went to visit someone?"

"I hadn't thought of that. It's a loss of freedom for both, I suppose, but in different ways." She took a bite of her beans. "Thank you for helping me see your perspective."

"I don't want you to feel like you're not allowed to make decisions without me. If you want to sew orange curtains with green sashes for the living room, feel free to do it."

Sarah laughed softly. "That sounds hideous."

"Oh, it would be, but I wouldn't stop you. I want you to feel like you have the right to make some decisions without me. Leaving to go to another city or state wouldn't make me happy, but going to the store without me is perfectly fine."

She smiled. "I hope so. I need to go tomorrow. I've got to get some more ingredients if you want me to cook meals that are palatable. I really thought you'd have some of the basic seasonings, but there is nothing here that I didn't bring in."

"Sorry," he said. "I can take you in the morning before work."

"Oh, there's no need for that. We're close to the store, and I can walk as well as the next woman. The only mode of transportation I had back East was my feet. I walked everywhere."

"If you don't mind, that would be good. I hate going in to work late two days in a row."

"I want to buy fabric for curtains tomorrow." She frowned. "I wish I had a sewing machine. It would lighten the amount I need to do a great deal."

"I saw one at the store today. Buy it. I don't mind."

"I'm sure you didn't notice the price. They're terribly dear."

He shook his head. "I didn't notice the price. Get one. I have more than enough money saved up for you to buy a sewing machine if you want it. And whatever else you're thinking of, I'm sure. You're a frugal woman, and if you think it would help you, get it."

She bit her lip, thinking about it. While she'd love the machine, she really didn't think he would approve when he realized how much they were talking about. "It's not a good idea."