For a moment, she saw her father’s expression soften, but when he spoke, his voice remained harsh. “If you go with him, you’ll go without dowry. You’ll be his financial responsibility.”
Thomas stepped forward and slipped his arm around Daphne’s waist. “Sir, we don’t want your money. We want your blessing.”
Father looked at Mother, and Daphne glimpsed a brief, nearly indiscernible movement of her mother’s chin—a nod—coupled with a plea in her eyes. Turning to Thomas, Father snapped, “When will you be married?”
Thomas suddenly looked uncertain, causing Daphne’s heart to pound. But when he answered, her anxiety washed away on a wave of love and appreciation.
“As much as I know my parents would like to witness our union, they can’t afford the train trip to Boston. And I know you’re a busy man—coming to Kansas would be inconvenient for you. I’m sure Daphne wants her parents at her wedding, so we’ll be married here before we leave for Kansas.”
Daphne turned excitedly, grasping her mother’s hands. “Mother, might we be married in the library, tomorrow at midmorning, when the sun pours through the big bay window on the east side of the room? A quiet, private wedding, with just a minister and you, Father, and Harry present? It would be so special to me.”
Mother held tight to Daphne’s hands as she sought her husband’s approval. “Harrison?”
Father didn’t relax his frown, but he gave a brusque nod. “I suppose I could take an hour tomorrow morning.”
Daphne danced around the desk to embrace her father. He remained in his chair, but he raised one arm to give her a brief pat on the back. “Make the arrangements.”
Mother and Harry left the office. Thomas took Daphne’s hand and led her to the doors. Just before stepping into the hallway, she paused and glanced back. Father sat at his desk, his shoulders slumped, an expression of dejection on his face. But when he lifted his head and caught her looking, he immediately sat upright and assumed a formidable air.
“Go, Daphne. I’ve work to do.”
Daphne closed the door behind her. Despite her father’s austere command, her heart sang. She glimpsed his reluctance to let her go. It was the closest she’d come to hearing words of affirmation or love from her father. For today, it was enough.
B
ELINDA
STIRRED THE THICK STEW
with a long wooden spoon, inhaling the pleasant aroma rising from the pot. The scent of meat and vegetables combined with the heady fragrance of fresh bread sent her stomach into spasms of desire. She could hardly wait for Peter, Summer, and the girls to get back so they could sit down and eat.
The unexpectedly warm mid-November afternoon had enticed the family out for a walk around the neighborhood. Now that plans were set for them to return to their farm outside of Gaeddert, they knew their time in Hillsboro was short. For the past week, Summer had been making visits to neighbors, gifting each with jars of jam or loaves of cinnamon-laden raisin bread in appreciation for their friendship.
Belinda retrieved bowls from the shelf above the dry sink and began setting the table. Her life would soon undergo another great change. A sigh found its way from her throat, but the sigh was one of satisfaction more than discontent. She would miss the Ollenburgers very much—how dearly she loved her surrogate family—but she knew she could let them go. She may not have parents or a home of her own, but God had met her needs at every turn. She trusted Him to continue to do so, so she need not fear the future.
With thoughts of the future came thoughts of Thomas’s return to Kansas. Her hands paused in their task as a tiny twinge of discomfort wiggled through her middle. She had practiced various ways to let Thomas know, despite her faithful letter-writing, that she only loved him as a brother in Christ. She hoped he wouldn’t be crushed when he returned and discovered he had no sweetheart waiting, yet she knew she would be dishonest if she pretended to care more deeply for him than as a friend.
She had written him a letter, telling him on paper that he mustn’t make his proposal, but in the end she had torn it up and thrown it away. Sending her message through the mail was the coward’s way—she would tell him face-to-face as soon as he returned.
The lid on the stewpot jiggled, and she hurried to the stove to move the pot before their dinner burned. Just as she shifted it to the warming part of the stove top, someone knocked on the door. Had the Ollenburgers accidentally locked themselves out? She hurried through the parlor and swung the door wide.
Instead of the Ollenburger family, she found Gerhard Wiens on the stoop. He beamed at her, and she noticed he held his hat in one hand and a cluster of bedraggled mums in the other.
“Good afternoon, Miss Schmidt. These are for you.” He thrust his hat forward. She sent the straw boater a startled look, and the man’s clean-shaven cheeks flooded with color. Yanking the hat back, he jammed the flowers forward. “I mean . . . these . . .”
Belinda bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from laughing. Reaching out, she took the cluster of red and yellow blossoms and managed a quick nod of thanks. She hugged the flowers to her apron bib as Gerhard erupted with words.
“I’m sorry to burst in on you unannounced, but I don’t get to town very often, so it’s hard to stand on formality. Your sister, Malinda, told me where I could find you, and she seemed to think it would be all right for me to stop by. I hope you aren’t offended, and I hoped you might enjoy a walk. It’s a pleasant evening for November.”
Regretful, Belinda gestured toward the back of the house. “I have a stew on the stove, and the Ollenburgers aren’t here right now. So I can’t leave.”
“Oh.” His face fell. He put his hat on his head. “I understand.” He took a step backward.
“But maybe—” Belinda stepped through the doorway. Before she could complete her suggestion, a joyous shout came from somewhere nearby.
“Belinda! Belinda!” All three girls charged across the yard, their faces shining. Gerhard moved aside to avoid being plowed over.
“Belinda! Papa got another telegram from Thomas!” Abby reached Belinda first and grabbed her hand, tugging her off-balance in her excitement. “He got married!”
Belinda’s knees nearly gave way. “W-what?”
“Thomas got married!” Gussie clapped her hands.
Little Lena echoed, “Thomaf got married!”
Summer and Peter came up the walk, and Belinda looked at them in confusion. “Thomas . . . is married?”
Summer’s curious glance skipped over Gerhard as she said, “Yes—to Daphne Severt, at the Severt home yesterday morning.”
Peter shook his head. “I wish we could see our son be married, too, but Boston is far away. And he could not bring her to Kansas without being bound as husband and wife, so . . .” He held his big hands outward, raising his shoulders in a shrug. “He says in the telegram they would like to make a reception here. You will come to the reception?”
Both he and Summer seemed to hold their breath while the little girls continued to dance in circles and giggle with excitement. Belinda understood Peter and Summer’s reticence—she could imagine them each thinking,
How will Belinda take this news?
She remembered all the worrying she’d done, the letter she’d written, and her careful plans to let Thomas down gently. She swallowed a giggle. How ridiculous she’d been! Thomas didn’t want to propose to her; he was in love with Daphne Severt!
“Of course I’ll come. May I bring a guest?” She held her hand toward Gerhard, inviting him to move into the circle. When he stood near, she said, “Summer and Peter Ollenburger, please meet Gerhard Wiens. He works for the Industrial School and Hygiene Home for the Friendless.”
Summer and Peter exchanged handshakes with Gerhard, and Belinda stifled another giggle when Peter gave the man a deliberate up and down examination. Gerhard stood tall without cringing beneath the perusal, which pleased Belinda. Apparently Gerhard met with Peter’s approval, because a grin split the big man’s face.
“
Wellkom
to our home.” He sniffed the air. “I smell something good cooking. Would you like to join us?”
Gerhard looked at Belinda, as though seeking permission. She nodded, and Gerhard graciously accepted Peter’s invitation. “I would like that very much.”
“
Goot!
Then come.” Peter gave Gerhard’s shoulder a smack that sent Gerhard through the doorway. “We do more celebrating when Thomas and Daphne come home, but for now—let us eat!”
Thomas looked down into his wife’s face. Relaxed in sleep, she looked fully content. He shifted his arm, drawing her a bit closer, as peace washed over him.
The train rumbled onward, carrying them ever closer to Hills-boro and home.
Home
. . . Had only half a year passed since he’d graduated from college, wondering where he would make his home? He could scarcely believe all that had transpired in such a short amount of time, yet he recognized God’s hand in every twist and turn.
With a jolt, he realized he’d been granted a legacy. Pa had wanted so much to leave his son the mill. How he had mourned its loss. Yet what he had given to Thomas was of much greater importance than a means of income. Pa had lived daily a faith as big as the man himself. Thomas, in witnessing it, had adopted it as his own. If he were fortunate enough to have a son someday, he would teach his child the same lesson of dependence on God that he had learned. Then his son, too, would have the strength to face whatever battles he found in the world and would always carry the promise of eternity with God.
Closing his eyes for a moment, he offered a silent prayer of thanks for the time of testing. He might have strayed, but all he faced had forced him to examine the root of his faith. He now knew without a doubt that God was deeply imbedded in his soul.
Daphne sat up sleepily and rubbed her eyes. Their gazes locked, and a sweet smile lit her face. She tipped her chin upward, a silent invitation for him to bestow a kiss. Thomas willingly obliged, his heart thrumming as their lips met. Although their high-backed berth afforded some privacy, anyone could walk by and see them, so they kept the kiss agonizingly short.
By late this evening, they would pull into Hillsboro. Thomas would take Daphne to the little house Pa had helped build ten years ago for Summer, and then they would have all the privacy they needed. Fire filled his face at the bold thought.
Daphne angled her head in puzzlement. “What are you thinking?”
He laughed self-consciously. “I’ll tell you later, when we’re alone.”
She burrowed against his chest. “Oh, Thomas, I can hardly believe that we’re married and we’re on our way to Kansas.”
“We’re
in
Kansas,” Thomas corrected, pointing to the passing landscape outside the window.
Daphne sat up eagerly and looked out the window. After a few moments, she caught Thomas’s hand. “Will they like me?”
“My family?”
She nodded, her lower lip caught between her teeth.
Thomas shook his head. “No.”
Her eyes flew wide.
He smoothed a strand of hair from her cheek. “They will
love
you.” He risked another quick kiss. “How can they not? You’re beautiful, you’re kind, you’re intelligent, and—”
“And I’m nervous.” Daphne’s brows pinched together. “I’ve never kept a house. I don’t know how to cook or wash clothes or . . . or anything! Thomas, I want so much to be a good wife to you, but I’m afraid—”
“Don’t be afraid.” Thomas gathered her in his arms, holding her to his beating heart. “You’re everything I want, everything God wanted me to have. Housecleaning you can learn—Summer will teach you. But all I need in a wife you already possess.”
“Oh, Thomas . . .” She sank into the circle of his arms. “I love you.”
“I love you.”
They sat, arms entwined, for several more minutes before Daphne pulled back, her nose wrinkled. “Phew. You’re musty.”
He laughed. “So are you!”
Her grin let him know he hadn’t insulted her. “So . . .” She sat straight up and folded her hands in her lap. “Tell me about the place we’ll live.”
Thomas laughed, shaking his head. “We’ve discussed this already.”
Her smile turned impish. “I know. But I like hearing it.”
Thomas settled into the corner of the seat, tugging Daphne into the curve of his arm. “We’ll live in a little house in the country, built as a labor of love by my pa and the men of Gaeddert for my stepmother, Summer. It’s a perfect house for us, with a wraparound porch where we can sit in the summertime and watch the sun set. The Cottonwood River flows behind the trees, and birds sing with the river’s music. Wildflowers grow everywhere, and I’ll pick you a bouquet every day.”
She closed her eyes as if picturing it. “Oh, it will be so lovely!” Then she fixed him with an attentive look. “Where will your newspaper office be located?”
“In Hillsboro, since Gaeddert is nearly empty.” Sadness tried to wiggle its way in, but he pushed the feeling aside. This was not a time for sadness—it was a time for rejoicing.
“And what is the town like?”
He pictured Boston and its vast, bustling expanse. Daphne was in for a surprise. “Small, very quiet. But it has everything we need—a butcher, a dry goods, a telegraph office for me to send and receive information. With that check your father gave us as a wedding gift, I’ll be able to rent a space and purchase a small printing press to get our newspaper started.”
Thomas still marveled at Mr. Severt’s change in attitude concerning Daphne’s dowry. The unexpected check, added to his savings, would insure an easier start to their lives together.
“So Hillsboro will have two newspapers,” Daphne mused.
“Well, Hillsboro has two hotels.” He winked, then changed the subject. “Do you think you’ll mind me smelling like
heena
— like chickens?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Is it worse than your current odor?”
He laughed. “Probably.” Sobering, he added, “It means a lot to my pa to have my help getting his farm started. And I know it will take a while for my newspaper readership to build, so working together with the chicken farm makes sense for both of us.”
“I’m sure it will be fine,” Daphne replied, smoothing her skirts over her knees, “and I shall do whatever I can to help, even if it means smelling like chickens.” A grin twitched her cheek. “My mother would be mortified by what I just said!”