She jumped as John Steigermann fired a shotgun in the air. He gave her a sheepish grin and she smiled. Given the circumstances of this marriage, she needed to have the evil spirits as far away as possible. It was a shame that the Polterabend didn’t work on Beata. Her new sister-in-law hadn’t swooned after all, and every time Caroline looked up, Beata was whispering to a different group of women. Caroline had misjudged Beata in the early days of Ann’s marriage, thinking her flighty and insecure and living in Frederich’s household on sufferance much as she herself lived in Avery’s. Beata always talked nervously with her hands, her pale eyes darting away, as hard to pin down as a little boy caught with the telltale remains of a pie left cooling on the windowsill. Her torso was too thick for her arms and legs, the heaviness accentuated by a dowager’s hump. There were heavy lines in her face from nose to mouth and between her eyebrows. She was crude and vulgar and vindictive, and she had made Ann’s life a nightmare.
Caroline huddled with Leah and tried to pretend that she didn’t notice how few of the women came near after Beata spoke to them. She knew perfectly well what Beata was about. She was making sure that a hasty marriage didn’t change Caroline Holt’s status as an outcast.
She sighed and looked away from Beata’s animated discourse with yet another group of women to find Leah watching her.
“No one will believe her, Caroline,” Leah said quietly.
“Won’t they? What is she saying?”
“Beata tells lies, Caroline—”
“Tell me.”
“Caroline, it’s better to just ignore her.”
“Please, Leah. I can’t defend myself if I don’t know.”
Leah hesitated, then gave a small sigh. “She…says you’ve been going to town and lying with the soldiers who are always around the depot. She says you don’t know who your baby’s father is.”
Caroline nearly laughed at the irony. She hadn’t been into town in more than a year, and Avery had refused to take her along with him the day she’d gone to the schoolroom. But she couldn’t deny Beata’s tales. To do so, to say she hadn’t been to town in so long would only focus the speculation about who had fathered her child on the men here.
She watched Avery at the cider kegs. He had said nothing to her or Frederich since they’d come out of the church, and he was drinking heavily, pushing his way in to refill the dipper again and again. And Kader was there—apparently had been in attendance all the time, and he was clearly enjoying the celebration. She gave a sharp intake of breath as he suddenly snatched the dipper out of Avery’s grasp. He lifted it high and toasted Frederich with it, slapping him on the back and shaking his hand. Then he made some remark that caused the men to roar with laughter.
“Are you all right?” Leah asked.
“Quite all right,” she answered, and she realized that Kader Gerhardt was probably the only person here who was truly happy about her marriage.
She turned and looked the other way, determined not to let Kader see how forlorn she felt. She was so cold. Her entire body ached with it, and her hands trembled from the strain of the morning and the long time since she’d eaten. She wanted to speak to Lise and Mary Louise, but Beata keep them close by her side. How many times today would Lise have to hear about her Aunt Caroline and the soldiers at the depot?
“Leah, could you ask your father to tell William what’s happened?” Caroline said abruptly. “I promised him I’d let him know whatever I…decided to do. I want him to hear more than just Avery’s version.”
She was certain that otherwise William would never believe she’d done this thing. She didn’t believe it herself, any more than she believed that she could have actually asked Leah Steigermann for a favor.
“I’m…sorry for the trouble I’ve caused you with Avery,” Caroline said. “I know you care about him, and I thank you for your help today. I don’t think I could have made it otherwise. Avery is bound to have hard feelings, and I just want you to know that I’m…sorry.”
“Ah, well,” Leah said, immediately dismissing the apology. “What can anyone do about Avery?”
Nothing, Caroline thought. Absolutely nothing.
“I will go find my father now,” Leah said. “He will see that William is told.” She put her hand on Caroline’s arm. “You are lucky, Caroline. Your baby will have a name now. And Frederich has money and land. He’s quite handsome—you must try not to mind how the marriage happened.”
Handsome? Caroline hadn’t thought of him as ugly, but neither had she recognized his handsomeness. She looked for him in the crowd around the cider kegs to verify Leah’s opinion. He wasn’t there anymore. She finally saw him standing alone with a dipper in his hand at the stone wall near Ann’s grave.
She couldn’t keep from shivering. The wind was far too sharp for an outside celebration, particularly one as halfhearted as this one. The women were anxious to leave, and the men began seeking out Frederich again to shake his hand. Only a few people said goodbye to Caroline.
She looked around as Lise and Mary Louise came running to her, both of them clinging to her with as much desperation as she herself was beginning to feel. She forced herself to smile at their upturned faces. Blond and freckled Lise, who was so quiet and serious and old beyond her years. And Mary Louise, who was as mischievous as she was merry. Caroline wondered how much it bothered Frederich that his youngest child was dark-haired and brown-eyed like the Holts.
“Is it true what Papa says?” Lise asked earnestly. “Are you coming to our house?”
“Yes,” Caroline said. “It’s true.” She looked across the churchyard to where Frederich stood.
Why did you do this? she thought. She had no beauty, no reputation, no virtue. She had only her availability for the wedding night and any other night he felt so inclined.
Kader!
She hugged both the nieces tightly, and she couldn’t keep from shivering again. Frederich had moved to the Graeber wagon now. Beata hovered at his elbow, still talking. Both of them stared in her direction.
“Look, Aunt Caroline!” Lise said. “My tooth is loose!”
She looked down and smiled at the front tooth Lise wiggled with her tongue, then laughed as Mary Louise tried to wiggle hers as well.
“I can’t do it!” Mary Louise said, grabbing Caroline around the knees, nearly toppling her. “You do it, Aunt Caroline!”
“Silly Willy,” Lise said. “You’re just a baby. You have to be seven like—Papa wants me,” she said abruptly as Frederich gestured for her to come to him. There was no doubt in either of their minds that he meant now.
Caroline stood awkwardly, watching Lise scurry to see what Frederich wanted. Should she make Mary Louise follow? Was she to ride back with Beata and