The Bartered Bride. Cheryl Reavis
her closer. “Frederich! Caroline! Come hear this. You will want to know the news.”
“What news?” she asked, glancing at Avery as he swallowed whatever unpleasant thing he would have said to her if both John Steigermann and Frederich hadn’t been there.
“The army has gone through again foraging supplies,” Steigermann said. “Penn Palmer says they took every decent horse he had. Steal is what they do. Paying with pieces of paper no one wants to honor. I say we go to the garrison in town—we see what they will do about paying real money for what they take. And look at this, Caroline,” he said taking a folded newspaper from his coat pocket. “You will read what this says, yes? I can’t read the English so good.”
She took the paper he handed her. “New call for troops,” she read aloud. “The following is under proclamation of the President, extending the call under the Conscript Act, to embrace all residents of the Confederacy between the ages of eighteen and forty-five years, not legally exempt—”
John Steigermann frowned and motioned for Caroline to keep reading.
“Foreigners,” she went on, “who are actual residents, will be called upon to do military service in defense of the country in which they reside.”
“Let me see that,” Avery said, snatching the newspaper out of her band and reading it himself. “That’s what it says. I’ve got my farmer’s exemption—but this is going to get a lot of you Germans if you aren’t careful.”
“And how can we Germans be careful, Avery?” Frederich asked. “Do we go hide in the woods and leave the women and children to work the farms?”
“You can go into town and see about a farmer’s exemption the same as I did,” Avery said.
“That is not so easy when the man who takes the bribe changes every week.”
“It isn’t a bribe, Frederich. It’s a fee.“
“Call it what name you will, Avery Holt. It is what it is.”
Caroline stepped away as the discussion became more heated. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. She was tired from the walk. And from arguing with Frederich, and before him, Beata.
Isn’t there someplace where I can just live in peace?
“Caroline,” William said.
She looked around at him. He was standing awkwardly, clearly embarrassed by her new status and not knowing what to say.
“Hello, William,” she said, forcing a smile she didn’t begin to feel.
“I got something for you,” he said, motioning her toward the house.
Avery glanced at him but didn’t intervene.
“What is it?” Caroline asked, letting William take her by the hand.
“I got your clothes all together,” he said. “I reckon you’re going to need them until Frederich can buy you some more.”
“William—”
“I got your dresses bundled and everything else in Mama’s old straw valise—I reckon the handle will stay on. I was going to sneak them over to you first chance I got. But since you’re here, I can give them to you now. And I reckon you’ll be wanting your books and all—me and Avery sure ain’t going to be reading them.”
“William—”
“It’s all right now, ain’t it, Caroline? You’ll be all right with Frederich, won’t you? You know I never in a million years thought he’d be the one you’d end up marrying. See, I never thought you’d marry at all—” He broke off, apparently realizing that his comment was less than tactful. “It’s good Frederich could come over to help you carry this stuff,” he decided, and he was looking at her so earnestly.
I have to come home, William.
She pursed her lips and tried to say the words, but she couldn’t manage it. William was so happy for her. He thought she was safe now.
“I’ll get your clothes,” William said, turning and bounding up the steps into the house.
She stood there still wanting to ask Avery—to beg him to let her come home. Surely, surely, he’d let her. He wouldn’t lose face. She could tell him that people would think the better of him—John Steigermann would think the better of him if he did this for her.
Frederich came and stood next to her as if he could feel her wavering, and William bounded out of the house with her dresses and the valise.
“Here you are, Caroline,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “Hey, Frederich, you’re not mad at Caroline anymore, are you?”
Frederich took the valise out of William’s hand without answering.
“There is more to bring or not?” he asked Caroline.
“I can get your books, Caroline,” William suddenly offered. “Since Frederich’s going to be carrying your things for you. I can put them in a pillow slip, all right? I’ll be right back—”
He was off running again.
Caroline abruptly bowed her head. How could she let Frederich haul her back? And how could she ask Avery for anything?
“Stay here,” Frederich said, slinging the valise at her because the ground was too muddy for him to set it down. “I will speak to your brother.”
She stood there, meekly holding everything she owned in her arms, feeling like the fallen woman she was as she watched Frederich approach Avery. Her brother was wary at first. And he kept glancing at her, his righteous indignation all too apparent.
“Ja! Gut!” John Steigermann said, listening intently to whatever Frederich said.
She couldn’t hear anything else.
What now, Frederich? she thought.
She kept making the same stupid mistake. She kept putting her trust in men who didn’t care. Avery. Kader. And now Frederich, who seemed to actually think he could stand a marriage to a woman pregnant by another man.
After a moment, Frederich and Avery walked into the barn and closed the door, leaving John Steigermann standing. Frederich came out again, leading one of Avery’s saddle horses.
“Caroline, we’ll go now,” he called to her.
She walked to where he stood, hating the meekness of every step she took.
“Your brother is going to lend you a horse so you don’t have to walk back,” he said.
She looked at him doubtfully, then handed him the valise and let him lift her and it onto the horse’s back. She said nothing, trying not feel his broad hands on her waist or the pain he caused on her bruises when he hoisted her upward.
William came running with the pillow slip full of books.
“Say hello to the girls from Uncle William,” he said, handing it up to her. His farm boy hands had left smudge marks on the crisp, starched whiteness of the pillow slip.
She forced a smile, her eyes meeting Frederich’s over the top of William’s head.
Frederich took the horse by the bridle, watching Caroline closely to see if she was going to return with him quietly after all. His right hand hurt. His knuckles were bleeding.
“Do me a favor,” he said to John Steigermann in German. “See about Caroline’s brother. See if I’ve killed him.”
Caroline slept fitfully and woke early. She had taken the precaution of bolting