Chapter Fourteen
Catrina was surprised when Gertrud pulled her aside after the worship service. It was a lovely spring day, mild and full of sunshine. Catrina had hoped that Eli would pull her aside during luncheon and eat with her, but he had remained preoccupied with every other settler. Did he really have so much to say to everyone else? Catrina had contented herself with making friendly conversation with the Widow Yoder—who actually did have interesting tips on the best ways to dye wool—and with Greta Miller.
Had Eli not picked up on the myriad of hints that Catrina had dropped the last time they spoke? Her eyelashes might have fallen off if she had batted them any harder. She had gone so far as to invite herself to call on him. Yes, the loom was an ideal excuse, but it had certainly been forward of her. Well. Desperate times call for desperate measures. And she had begun to feel rather desperate to prod Eli along.
How on earth had he still not gotten the hint?
The wooden trenchers and pewter plates had barely been scraped clean before Gertrud had pulled alongside Catrina and taken her arm. Catrina had almost gasped. Gertrud was the very last person she expected to take her arm in such a friendly fashion. “I thought we might walk home together,” Gertrud said without smiling. “We are neighbors, after all, and can hardly pretend that we will not be walking in the same direction.”
Ah. Gertrud would not act as if she and Catrina were on friendly terms. “No, we cannot.”
“I would like to speak with you,” Gertrud said as she began to steer Catrina toward the path.
No, she did not seem friendly, after all.
Catrina glanced around to see if someone might come and rescue her from a conversation she did not want to have. No one came. Most notably Eli did not come.
Catrina waved to Greta and the Widow Yoder, who had both become entangled in a conversation with Barbara Gruber about cures for the croup. They waved back and did not move forward to rescue her. Oh well. Her grandparents had already returned home, so she had no excuse to stay behind. Georg had an unfortunate case of gout, so he and Frena had returned home early so that he could elevate his ailing foot.
And so Gertrud and Catrina set out together in a most uncomfortable manner. Perhaps she means to apologize. After all, her brother has almost declared his intentions. She may have realized that it is better to support us than to push us apart. Catrina frowned as they made their way up a hillock and onto the footpath. Her breath began to come more quickly. She hoped that Gertrud assumed she was out of breath from the walk and not from nerves. She tried to convince herself that all was well. Perhaps Gertrud’s hostility was purely in your own mind. After what you did in Philadelphia it is easy to believe that everyone knows and that everyone has judged you.
Gertrud did not speak until they were well clear of the other settlers. The silence of the woodlands settled around them. They heard only the crunch of their shoes on the dry leaves that littered the forest floor. Gertrud inhaled and let her breath out slowly. She shook her head. “I have thought long and hard about what to say to you.”
“Oh?” Catrina gave the woman a sidelong glance. What exactly was she about to say? The tightness in Catrina’s stomach, and on Gertrud’s face, told Catrina that it could not be good.
“One has to be careful about such . . . delicate matters. After all, you are one of us now, even though you were not in the past.”
Catrina felt her chest constrict. She tried to swallow and could not. Gertrud knew. Oh, she knew. There would be no escape. Not even at the far edge of the colonies, amongst the wolves and wilderness. Catrina raised her chin a fraction. She had repented. She would not be ashamed. No matter how humiliating this moment was about to be. She would not run and hide. She would face Gertrud and the terrible, terrible truth.
Gertrud seemed to have trouble forming words. She ran her stout, calloused fingers down her apron in a nervous gesture. She picked at an invisible spot on the white linen. “I used to frequent your father’s shop in Philadelphia.” She sighed and looked straight ahead. She kept walking with steady, determined steps. “I have heard the stories. And I believe them to be true.” She paused and lowered her voice to a tone that sounded so calm and sure it made Catrina shudder. “I know them to be true.”
Catrina did not deny the stories. She did not deny anything at all. They walked for a while in silence. The wind whispered through the trees and rippled their skirts. “So you understand why I do not believe you to be a suitable match for my brother,” Gertrud said at last.
Still, Catrina did not respond. She would not make this any easier for Gertrud. She would not lie, she would not deny, she would not beg anyone to understand. But she would not make it easy for anyone to remind her of what she had done. She would not rush to condemn herself. She had put it behind her. And behind her it should stay.
Gertrud’s brown leather shoes continued to beat a steady rhythm against the forest floor. Yellow sunlight poured through the canopy and cast bright patterns across a sea of waving ferns. “I do not want to tell my brother, Catrina. I do not want to tell anyone.”
Catrina’s breath sharpened. Was that a threat? Would Gertrud tell if Catrina stepped over an unspoken boundary line that separated her from Eli? Catrina felt her hands clench into fists. Her nails dug into the soft flesh of her palms until it hurt. She would not escape her past. She would not outrun it. How foolish she had been to think that she could try.
Her only comfort was that Gertrud had not told Eli yet. He did not know. Thanks be to der Herr, Eli did not know. Yet. Would Gertrud tell him? Did Gertrud mean it when she said she did not want to tell? The ground felt unstable beneath Catrina’s feet. She could not believe it had come to this. The only way to be sure her secret stayed safe was to stay away from Eli. Forever.
Gertrud turned and smiled at Catrina. “I am glad that we had this talk. I am sure that all will fall into its rightful place now.”
Catrina looked away. She was sure that her rightful place was with Eli. Even a woman who had made a terrible mistake deserved to be with the man she loved. Didn’t she? Catrina felt a hardness settle inside her stomach, as if she had swallowed a stone. The world moved past them in slow motion. Her head swirled. She wanted to run away and lie down and clamp her eyes shut. She wanted everything to go away. No, not everything. Only the past. But now she knew the past would never go away. And if Eli found out . . . Would he still love her? Catrina was not willing to find out.
* * *
Eli woke up the next morning full of joy. He hummed his favorite song from the Ausbund as he chopped the day’s firewood. His fingers fumbled over the yarn as he threaded the loom. Catrina would call on him today! Strictly speaking, she would call on the loom. But he suspected that her interest lay in more than weaving. He had not failed to notice her coy smiles, her light touch on his arm, the beating of her thick black eyelashes. Oh, she could not have been any clearer. Catrina Witmer wanted to spend more time with him. With him! It was almost too good to be true.
Eli rubbed his hands together and let out a happy sigh. Today would be a wonderful day.
“You are in a fine mood today, brother mine.”
“Indeed I am, Gertie.”
“Why?”
Eli grinned. “I suppose you already know.”
“Mmmmm.” Gertrud’s lips narrowed into a thin line. If Eli didn’t know better he would think that her expression held a trace of guilt. She made that face whenever she knew she had gone a step too far to protect him from whatever danger her mind had imagined. That expression reminded him of the time she had hidden his new sled when he was a child so that he couldn’t race down a steep hill with his friends. He had stayed inside instead, listening to the whoops and shouts of his friends while Gertrud sat by the fire with tight, unspeaking lips. She had apologized later, when he found his sled beneath her sack of wool in the barn, and explained that she could not bear to see him hurt. He had said that no one had ever been hurt sledding. And she retorted that someone had, surely, even if he did not know them personally. She always had a way of making sense when her case shouldn’t have made sense at all.
Eli considered asking her if she had done something to “protect” him. He watched her calloused fingers pick a burr from the soft bundle of wool piled on her lap. She worked hard for him. She had made sure that they stayed together, as a family. She had forgiven him for what he had done to her. Eli frowned and turned his attention to the loom. He would not confront her today. She only wanted what was best for him. There was no point in stirring up trouble by asking why her face looked guilty. He owed her a peaceful life and he would give that to her, no matter how much it ate away at him.
A knock on the door startled Eli to attention. His heart somersaulted into his throat. Catrina had come! He ran his palms over his unruly hair and brushed a crumb off his waistcoat. How long had that been there, he wondered. Gertrud frowned, rose from her spinning wheel, and walked to the door. She glanced back at Eli with a concerned expression, then turned back to the door, took a deep breath, and opened it.
“Don’t look so happy to see me, Gertie,” Abram’s voice boomed through the threshold.
Eli let out the breath he had been holding. His body deflated and his shoulders slumped. He had been so excited for Catrina to call. Well, no matter. She was sure to come soon.
“Abram.” Gertrud’s clipped voice was all business. “What a surprise.”
“What a pleasant surprise, you mean.”
Gertrud stared back at him. Eli had never seen her tongue-tied before she met Abram. She always had a retort on hand.
“Ah, Gertie. I see that you are unable to speak in my presence. That disarming, am I? Well, good looks can be a curse.”
Eli laughed. “Come in, Abram. Before my sister slams the door in your face.”
“She would not dare. Not to such a handsome face.”
Gertrud stepped aside as Abram rumbled past her. She stared at him with a look somewhere between exasperation and confusion. Oh, thought Eli, this should be fun. Abram flashed a mischievous grin as he sauntered past Gertrud and slumped onto the hand-hewn bench beside the table. “Sorry to disappoint you, my girl, but I have not come to call on you.” Abram shrugged. “Came to discuss the flax harvest.” He raised his eyebrows. “Although, if the disappointment cuts too deep, I could arrange a social visit on the morrow. . . .”
Gertrud’s face turned an interesting shade of red. “I would like no such thing, Abram Ziegler.” She spoke in a clear, calm voice, but her jaw trembled.
Abram responded with a nonchalant shrug. “Ah, well.” He turned to Eli and began to talk details about the upcoming flax harvest. Gertrud continued to stare at him with that expression of exasperation and confusion. Eli tried to focus on Abram’s predictions regarding how many bushels his crop should yield, but all he could think was that his sister had finally met her match. It took all his strength to suppress a chuckle. He could not imagine how a good-natured, giant of a frontiersman with bright eyes, rosy cheeks, a bushy beard, and a gap between his front teeth had managed to best Gertrud. But he had. Oh, had he ever!
“Now, little lass,” Abram said once the talk of the upcoming harvest was completed. He turned to Gertrud and leaned forward on the bench. His large, meaty wrists rested on his knees and his hands dangled. “I wonder what you’ve done with that venison. A nice stew perhaps?”
“Oh.” Gertrud cleared her throat. “Ja. Thank you for the deer. You did not have to—”
“Ach.” Abram cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Anything for you.” He winked at her and she clamped her mouth shut. Abram shrugged. “But, if you wanted to thank me, I suppose I could stay and sample some of that venison. I’m a busy man, but I reckon I could take the time. Since you seem so eager to thank me. I would not want to disappoint you.”
“I did not mean . . . that is to say, thank you for the venison, but—”
“You are very welcome, little lass,” Abram interrupted before Gertrud could explain her position. “Can’t have you eating salt pork now that you’ve settled. Eli’s got his qualities, but hunting is not one of them, eh?”
Eli shrugged and grinned sheepishly.
“My brother is perfectly capable of providing for us.”
Abram nodded thoughtfully. “That he is. To be sure.” He stared at Gertrud until she looked up and met his eyes. “But venison sure is good, ja?”
Gertrud gave a small smile. It curled her lips as if she could not quite help herself. “Ja. It is.”
Abram nodded. “How kind of you to have me for dinner.”
Gertrud’s brows snapped together. “Dinner?”
Abram’s expression looked a little too innocent. “You just invited me.”
Gertrud narrowed her eyes. “You have a way of twisting words, Abram Ziegler.”
“Do I? Hmmm. I will have to look into that.” He smiled. “After dinner. I believe you said we were having venison?”
Gertrud sighed and shook her head, but that smile returned to her lips. “Ja, ja. Venison it is.” She shook her head again, but the smile remained. Eli had forgotten how her face softened when she smiled. She smiled so rarely. He was glad that Abram had dropped by. Now, if Catrina would just follow suit . . .
* * *
Catrina never appeared that day. Eli sighed as he pulled the curtain closed that separated his sleeping pallet from his sister’s. He would have to build them each a bedstead, now that they were settled. But his thoughts did not stay on such practicalities long. As he kicked off his leather shoes and shrugged out of his black coat, all he could think of was Catrina. Why had she stayed away today? He had been sure that she would call on him.
A dark thought came to him as he unfastened the hooks and eyes on his waistcoat. Had Gertrud interfered somehow? Had she said something to Catrina? Eli dismissed the thought immediately. What could Gertrud possibly say to scare Catrina away—especially after Catrina had been so eager to call on him? Surely, she could not hold anything over the poor girl. Oh, Gertie had been full of veiled warnings, but Eli did not take them too seriously.
There could not be anything wrong with Catrina Witmer. She was perfect in every way.