Chapter Nineteen
Monday was Catrina’s baking day, and she started on the dough as soon as she unpacked her belongings and Frena left for the fields. She took care of breakfast as the dough rose, then punched it down to rise again. “Can we go for a walk?” she asked as she folded a white cloth over the wooden mixing bowl.
“Sure. As soon as I finish this,” Eli said from his place at the loom. He patted the stool in front of her spinning wheel. “Until then, let’s work together.” He loved to weave with her by his side. A look of relief passed over Catrina’s face as she settled into place by the spinning wheel.
Eli watched her from the loom with a soft smile on his face. She was his wife. His wife! He hoped she didn’t mind that he kept watching her. But he could not help that he loved to watch her. She looked so beautiful and pure and peaceful. She was perfect.
He wished that he could be perfect for her. But he was not. And that knowledge bore into him every time she looked up at him with big, trusting eyes. Sometimes he could not meet her gaze when he thought about how horribly he had failed someone he loved in the past. And now he was responsible for another human being. What if he failed Catrina like he failed Gertrud four years ago?
Catrina’s spinning wheel clattered to a stop. “I have to go now.” She put the risen dough in her basket to take to the community bake-oven, then lingered beside the loom on her way outside. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Can we talk after I return? I would like to speak to you as soon as possible. I wish I could stay, but if I don’t get the baking done, you’ll have no bread for dinner.”
“Of course.” Eli felt a warm glow inside. His wife wanted to talk to him. Maybe they could stroll through the woods and hold hands while they chatted. How nice that would be. He would be sure to tell her how much he loved her.
Catrina slipped outside, the cabin door banged shut, and Eli was alone with Gertrud for the first time since the wedding. He sighed and shifted on the hard wooden bench. His hands kept flying over the loom. Maybe she would not interrupt him if he made a show of how busy he was.
But she did interrupt him. Of course she did.
“I don’t believe that she will last long,” Gertrud said.
Eli thought it was a strange thing to say. He expected her to criticize the match or tell him how much he had hurt her. “What do you mean?” He had learned that asking a question was often the best diplomacy.
Gertrud sighed. She rubbed her eyes. “She hasn’t the backbone for the backcountry. Do you think she has ever gotten those perfect hands dirty?”
Eli would not fall into the trap. “No, and I love her for it. She does not need to get her hands dirty. She’s not a farmer’s wife.”
“So you will wash your own clothes and plant your own kitchen garden and slaughter and pluck your own chickens?”
“Ach. Can’t you see I’m busy? And can’t you see that she does what needs to be done? She just does it in her way and on her terms. There’s nothing wrong with that—there’s nothing wrong with a woman who knows her own mind.”
Gertrud frowned as she stood over Eli’s shoulder.
“You’re blocking the light, sister mine.”
“Am I?” She murmured the words in a way that told Eli her mind was focused elsewhere. She did not move. “Truth be told, she is more pleasant than I expected.”
The loom shuddered to a stop. Eli smiled and swiveled on the bench. “Do my ears deceive me, or did you just compliment my wife?”
“Ach.” Gertrud waved her hand. “That does not mean that she is a good match. But that’s over and done. You can’t take it back now.”
“I don’t want to take it back.”
“No, you wouldn’t. Not yet, anyway.” Gertrud’s gaze turned to the window, as if she were watching for Catrina’s return, even though they both knew she would be gone for a while. It would take time to build a fire in the community bake-oven, let it heat the oven until the flames burned down, then scrape away the ashes and put the bread in to bake. “I want to tell you the truth, Eli. It disturbs me that she is so pleasant. Nothing ever gets to her. She is so peaceful and placid that it frightens me. It is as if she is biding her time. . . .”
“For heaven’s sake, Gertie! Biding her time for what?” Eli stopped. He closed his eyes and let out a long breath of air. Had he just raised his voice at Gertie? He had not meant to do that. “I’m sorry.” He shook his head. His eyes stayed closed. If he opened them and saw the concern on Gertrud’s face he thought he might break. “But please stop with your ridiculous accusations. Catrina is not biding her time. She is not going to ever hurt me or let me down or do whatever it is you fear she will do.”
“Maybe it is not fear of what she will do, but of what she already has done.” Gertrud’s face looked still and resigned. A vein in her throat pulsed. “And when someone has done something in the past, they are likely to do it again.”
Eli opened his eyes. He set his jaw in a hard line and stared at his sister. “All right, Gertrud. Enough. What is it that she did? Go ahead.” He waved his hands with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Tell me.”
The color drained from Gertrud’s face. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. “I don’t like the way you are looking at me.”
“I am looking at you like a man who is tired of hearing his wife slandered.”
“The truth is not slander.”
“All right, then tell me the truth and I’ll decide what to make of it. You don’t need to protect me. I am sure that when you tell me it will be nothing and then we can move past this obsession of yours.”
“You don’t know what you are asking. If I tell you, it will hurt you.”
“And you think this doesn’t hurt me? You think I like wondering what in heavens you believe my Catrina has done!”
“No.”
“All right then.”
“I am sorry, Eli. All I wanted was to protect you. And now, I don’t think that I can anymore.”
Eli shook his head. This would drive him mad. He needed to put an end to it. But before he could demand answers, he heard a low whistle in the front yard. The happy tune drifted in through the open door and broke the tension in the small, one-room cabin.
“Hallo!” Abram’s deep voice boomed across the threshold.
Gertrud tried to push her distraught expression aside as she smoothed her apron and pushed a stray lock of hair beneath her prayer kappe.
“Come on in,” Eli shouted. Thanks be to der Herr for timely interruptions.
“Ah, I was hoping to see a lovely young face,” Abram said as he appeared in the doorway. His large frame shut out the sunlight and he had to duck to clear the threshold.
Gertrud’s face tightened. “Catrina is not here.”
“Catrina?” Abram grinned and tossed his beaver-felt hat onto the table. “Who said anything about Catrina?”
A small smile turned up the corner of Gertrud’s mouth, but she immediately forced her lips back into a frown. “You ought not tease like that, Abram. It isn’t nice.” She turned her back to him and found something to do at the hearth. A metal pot scraped against the coals. “The very idea.”
“You know I never tease, Gertie.” Abram stared at her with a remarkably serious expression.
Gertrud jammed the poker into the fire harder than necessary. Sparks exploded and escaped into the mud-and-stick chimney. Eli knew that he would have to replace it with stone when he could. But these things took time. They had to get settled first, then improve the cabin.
“What can we do for you, Abram?” Gertrud asked finally. She never turned around.
Abram watched her bustle around the hearth for a moment before he dropped onto a bench and rested his elbow on the hand-hewn table. The wood creaked under his weight. “Getting ready to harvest the flax.”
“Ah.” Eli slid his legs over his backless bench and turned around to face Abram instead of the loom. “That is welcome news.”
Abram scratched the side of his face. His fingers caught in his bushy black beard. “Tomorrow. If the weather holds.”
Catrina’s voice floated into the cabin. “We’ll have a work party!” She clapped her hands as she waltzed through the open door. Eli felt as though the sun had come with her. The entire room felt brighter, cleaner, more alive. She smelled of flour and wild grass. He smiled. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too. I came back early so we could go for that walk.” Their eyes locked until Abram guffawed. “Newlyweds are incorrigible, aren’t they, Gertie? How do you stand it?”
Gertrud pretended not to hear.
“Do be nice, Abram,” Catrina said. “One day the tables will be turned and you will be the newlywed.”
Abram leaned back against the table. He smiled. “Let us hope so, my dear.” Abram’s eyes cut to Gertrud, then back to Catrina. Catrina cocked her head and raised an eyebrow at Abram. He looked up at her and shrugged.
Catrina shook her head and shot him a confused look.
“You were saying something about a work party?” Abram asked as Catrina settled onto Eli’s bench.
“Yes. I will bake something. There may be some wild strawberries to be had. A strawberry pie, perhaps? I might faint from happiness.”
Abram nodded. “Well, I won’t deny you, little lass. If you want to bake me something, who am I to argue?”
Catrina laughed.
“And, if you want to come and help me with the harvest, I won’t argue that, either.”
“You have such a talent for turning things around to your advantage,” Catrina said, and laughed again.
“It is a mighty fine talent, to be sure.”
“Did you know that is my favorite thing about New Canaan? No, it is my favorite thing about being Amish.”
“What is?”
“That everyone helps one another. When I lived in Philadelphia, people surrounded me. But they were mostly strangers. They came and went as they pleased, and rarely stopped to help one another. Here, we are on our own in the middle of the wilderness, but we are not really alone, are we? I have seen this handful of families give more to one another than the entire population of Philadelphia ever could.”
Abram looked at Catrina thoughtfully. He rubbed his beard and nodded. “Ja. I lived in Philadelphia for a few months. That was when I first came to America from Germany, before I set out on my own.” He looked at Eli. “Catrina knows this, but did you know I lived for nearly a decade as a trapper before I settled here? I came over earlier than the rest of them, you see. But when I lived alone in the woods, I never felt as alone as when I lived in a city. There’s nothing as lonely as living near hundreds of people who don’t know who you are.” He nodded toward Catrina, but continued to address Eli. “She’s right, you know. Anyone here will help you. Oh, they don’t always get along, but when push comes to shove they’ll be there for you.”
Eli nodded. His eyes cut to Gertrud, who was still fussing around the hearth with her back turned to them. She would be there for him if push came to shove. He just had to win her over to Catrina’s side. That sounded simple, but with a strong-willed woman like Gertrud, it was not simple at all.
* * *
Catrina thought about what she had said to Abram long after the conversation drifted to the flax harvest and the price of linen. Did she mean what she had said to him about never feeling alone? Yes, she did. A happy warmth spread through her at the realization. She had felt alone in New Canaan just a few weeks ago. Something had happened since then to make her see that she was not alone, that her neighbors cared about her.
Eli had happened.
Everything would be perfect if she had not brought herself to ruin two years ago. That one mistake hung around her neck like a chain, even though Catrina had promised that she would not look back or blame herself any longer. Only Gertrud held on to that blame. But that was enough. It only took one person to turn a secret into common knowledge.
Working side by side with Eli as his wife—his wife!—had almost been enough to distract Catrina from her stress. She had never been so happy as when her fingers flew over the loom while Eli stood behind her with his warm, calloused hands resting on her shoulders. Her hands knew where to go and her mind focused and relaxed at the same time as the clackety clack whoosh filled the small, cozy room. Those were her favorite moments of her new marriage—the smell of wood smoke rising from the fire, Eli’s warm, solid presence standing near, the light from the sun falling across the dirt floor to cast a warm glow over her face.
But Catrina could not pretend everything was all right. She could feel the cloud of confusion and frustration around her new sister-in-law. Catrina had hoped Gertrud’s disapproval would seep out and disappear, like snow melting into the ground to leave fresh, new earth ready for the planting. And Catrina was ready to sow a new relationship with Gertrud. She would start fresh, if only given the chance. She would make this work, both for Eli and for her new sister-in-law.
But that was not to be. After Abram left, Gertrud’s looks sharpened, as if she had made a decision. Catrina could sense that it was not a good decision. She held her breath as she swept past Gertrud’s spinning wheel, as if the woman might stand up and shout the truth at any moment. The weight of the secret became an aching tightness in her chest. She had to speak to Eli before Gertrud did. She had to do the right thing. She had tried for two days—and for two days she had not managed to do it. She would not let another moment slip past. She would not allow anything to intervene.
“Let’s eat before we take that walk, ja?” Eli said as he closed the door behind Abram. “A day of sitting at the loom works up an appetite.”
“All right.” Catrina tried not to show her frustration. She would take Eli outside to talk after dinner, no matter what.
The food stuck in her throat during dinner and would not go down. Catrina could not swallow when she saw Gertrud’s cold, hard stare from across the table. Eli did not seem to notice. Or if he did, he never addressed his sister’s brooding silence. Instead, he smiled more, held Catrina closer, and complimented her work with greater enthusiasm than ever before. Catrina wondered if that was his way of telling her that everything would be all right, that he supported her. Or perhaps he was only doing what came naturally to him. Perhaps he was oblivious to Gertrud’s icy reception. She was his sister, after all, and it is easy to be blinded by love of family.
Eli pushed his plate aside and patted his lean stomach. “Wonderful good meal, Catrina.”
Catrina smiled. “Now, how about that walk?” Her stomach dropped at the thought of what she would say to him. But she had to press forward.
“I’d love to. There’s nothing I’d rather do than steal a few minutes with you. Just let me chop some wood first. The woodpile’s nearly gone and the fire will go out if I don’t take care of it now.”
“Oh.” Catrina frowned. She did not want to have to wait another moment to come clean to Eli. But she would have to. She did not want to alarm him by making it sound too urgent. Besides, what could another hour hurt? Two days had already flown by. “All right. As soon as you chop the wood, then.”
“Ja.” His eyes sparkled. “Looking forward to it.”
Catrina’s chest constricted. He did not know what was in store. He thought they would have a lovely, happy stroll. Instead, she would break his heart. Would he understand? Would he blame her? Would he wish they had not married?
Eli hummed as he put on his beaver-felt hat and strolled outside. The women settled back into their spinning. It was the first time Catrina and Gertrud had been alone since the wedding. Catrina did not know what Gertrud would say. She hoped she would say nothing. She hoped they could spin side by side and pretend everything was all right.
They could not.
Gertrud let out a long, frustrated sigh. Her foot slid off the treadle and rested flat on the dirt floor. The spinning wheel clicked to a slow stop. Gertrud continued to stare at the smooth, worn wood. “I need to talk to you.”
Catrina felt her stomach slip away and drop into her feet. She swallowed and took her foot off the treadle of her spinning wheel. The mechanism whined to a stop. “All right.”
Gertrud did not turn to face her. She kept her eyes on her spinning wheel. “I have debated and debated about what to do.”
Catrina did not answer. She would not make this easier on her new sister-in-law.
“I have not told Eli.” Gertrud ran a fingertip along the smooth arc of the spinning wheel. “I almost did. But then I thought better of it. What’s done is done. I don’t want to hurt him now that—” She paused and cleared her throat. “Now that he’s married. It cannot be undone.”
“No. It cannot.”
“And I do not think that you should tell him either.”
Catrina stiffened. “That is not for you to decide.”
“I know what’s best for my brother. I won’t see him hurt. Anyway, you can’t tell him now. How would he feel when he realizes that he married you under . . . false pretenses.”
“I do not believe that he would regret it.”
“Then why haven’t you told him?”
Catrina’s stomach dropped again. “I’ve tried. But I haven’t had the chance.” The first two days of her marriage had flown by as if she were in a dream. She could not believe how the hours had slipped past. “As soon as he finishes chopping wood I plan to tell him everything.”
“No.” Gertrud shook her head. “Think of how it would hurt him if he learns that you have lied to him from the day you met.”
Catrina spun around on the bench to face her. “I never lied to him.”
“An omission of truth is a lie.” Her voice sounded steady, calm, and strangely sad.
“No. It isn’t like that. I was just about to tell him.” Catrina stood up. She could not listen any longer. If only she had taken that walk with Eli before he went to chop wood! If only she had tried harder. How had she let two days slip past?
Gertrud looked at her for the first time during the conversation. “I cannot bear to think what it will do to him if he learns you are not who he thinks you are. And if you ever leave him . . .” Gertrud shook her head. Her eyes gleamed with moisture.
Catrina forced a calm expression on her face so that Gertrud could not see her hurt and confusion. She smoothed her apron and adjusted her prayer kappe. “I would never leave Eli. What a strange thing to say.”
Gertrud flinched. “Strange? We both know why you would.”
“No. You’re wrong. You aren’t making any sense.”
“Please, Catrina.” Gertrud’s eyes took on a pleading expression. “Don’t hurt my brother.”
The room was very, very quiet. Catrina could hear the wind rustle the pine needles across the clearing. She could hear her heart thump inside her chest and the quick, sharp hiss of her breath through her teeth.
“He has been through far more than you know,” Gertrud said.
Catrina’s face burned. She sat back down and met Gertrud’s gaze. “I must tell him the truth. There can be no secrets between us.”
Gertrud gave a hard, steady stare. “It is too late for that,” she said quietly.
“No. It’s never too late. We only married yesterday. I was just about to tell him.”
“I cannot allow it.”
“You cannot stop me.”
Gertrud sighed and looked away. In the distance they could hear the steady thump of an ax. “No. But I can plead with you to do the right thing.”
“The right thing is to tell the truth.”
“No, that would only hurt him. Don’t put him through it now. He’s head over heels in love with you. It will crush him to learn the truth. The right thing to do is to spare him.” Gertrud’s fingers tightened in her lap. “And never leave him.”
Catrina shook her head. She did not know what to say.
“I love my brother. Can’t you understand that?”
“Is it love to keep the truth from him?”
“It is when the truth serves no purpose but to hurt him. What’s done is done. You cannot change it now. Better to move on and try your best to love him.”
“I do love him.”
Gertrud made an expression that Catrina could not read. It looked like resignation. “Do you?”
“Of course I do.”
“I wish I could believe you. I wish more than anything that I could believe you.”
Catrina shook her head again. It was too unjust. How could anyone think she did not love Eli?
“I could go to the bishop,” Gertrud said.
“Why would you do such a thing?”
“Only to protect my brother.”
Catrina could not answer. She did not know what to say. She could not defend herself. Gertrud was right—Catrina had not told Eli before they married, and she had not told him in the two days since they’d been married. She had tried to tell him, but it did not matter. All that mattered was that she had failed.
“But it won’t come to that, will it?” Gertrud’s expression looked desperate. “You’ll do what’s best for Eli, won’t you?”
Maybe Gertrud was right. Maybe it would be selfish to hurt Eli just to clear her conscience. Maybe it was best for him to never know. Catrina closed her eyes. She could not think straight. When she opened them again, Gertrud was still staring at her. “Please, Catrina. Please. For me. For Eli. Just spare him the hurt. He’s been through enough.”
“All right.”
Gertrud clapped a hand over her own chest and exhaled. “Thank you, Catrina.” The words came out in a whisper. “Thank you.”
Catrina did not know how to feel. She did not know if she had done the right thing. She only knew she loved Eli and wanted what was best for him. She would do anything for Eli, even if it meant keeping a secret that burned a hole inside her.