Earthbound: Science Fiction in the Old West (Chronicles of the Maca Book 1) (14 page)

It had not taken long for MacDonald to haggle with the stable man over the cost of a buggy and two horses for one week. They were on the road to Papa Schmidt's place before seven o'clock. Anna still remembered the route out of St. Louis. She kept up a running commentary on the people she had known, pointing out the different trees and flowers growing by the roadside and tales of where she had grown up before arriving in this country.

The miles clopped away. The nearer they came, the less Anna spoke until she became silent for her memories of her early years were rushing back and overwhelmed her mind.

Papa had cleared the land in 1839. She had become the de facto woman of the house for her father and brother just as she had been in the homeland. To her horror, Papa married the twenty-year-old Johanna Polzien early the next year. There was an immediate clash as to whether Anna still ran Johann Schmidt's household or Johanna. Of course, Papa had sided with his young wife.

Anna had been studying from the books Kasper brought home from school: Latin, algebra, novels, and English. When a handsome, red-haired teacher at the St. Louis University proposed, she had not hesitated. No one thought there was anything wrong with a seventeen-year-old woman marrying someone who claimed to be thirty-five. Anna was puzzled when she heard his two hearts, but said nothing. She was unprepared for his cold, icy fury when he learned she was pregnant.

It was a shock when she felt him probing her mind. She stood stunned as he pointed his right index finger at her and intoned his words.

“Tell me who you committed adultery with so that we can divorce. You will not pass off a primitive Earth being as my child. Who was it?”

His mind clashed with hers and she felt arcing points of pain within her head. Anna wet her lips. “How can you say such things?” She shook her head and her hurt was replaced with a raging anger. It was like she threw him out of her mind and threw up bricks to block him.

“I have been with no one else. Don't you dare try to do that to me again! It's foul. It's wrong and it hurts.”

For a moment Mr. Lawrence stared at her and then slammed out of the house.

He had not returned until well after midnight. Anna was not sure where he slept, but it was not in their bed. She had prayed for God to forgive her temper, but she had felt so violated. How could someone go into another's mind and try to command them to speak? Did it have to do with the two hearts? When they first married, she thought it was a flaw like the calves with two heads. Now she wasn't sure. What had he meant by primitive Earth being? Is that how he thought of her? She had been puzzled that he had been with her but once since they wed. She knew her father and Johanna had used the marriage bed more than that. Her room had been right above theirs. She was not certain, however, how frequently man and wife should be together like that.

The surprising thing was that she had enjoyed it. This was something else she wasn't sure should be, but there was no one to ask. Her mother had died in childbirth when Anna and Kasper were seven.

The next morning, Mr. Lawrence did not speak to her and did not again until after the child was born. Divorce was not an option. He could not prove she committed adultery and there was no other reason the law would grant a divorce. Anna spent her pregnancy banging things around. She would berate him for not speaking and he would leave for most of the evening. She never knew what he did or where he went, but he did not return reeking of liquor.

He did hire a midwife. The delivery took but seven hours.

“What a beautiful little girl you have, Frau Lawrence.”

Tante Bertha's round face beamed as she laid the baby in her arms.

Margareatha Louise Lawrence was baptized one month later. Mr. Lawrence did not attend. She had been horrified to find out he was an atheist.

“I do not give credence to superstition by attending primitive rites.”

He was just as horrified to hear the two hearts in Margareatha's chest and see the golden circles around the pupils of her copper eyes. For months he walked around with a frown on his face, deep in thought. His habits changed and he did not leave the house at night.

It wasn't until Margareatha was three years old that Mr. Lawrence returned to their bedroom. He had resumed teaching Anna mathematics and English grammar. He considered German too guttural. “English is completely devoid of reason, but at least it does not grate on one's ears.” Anna no longer cared about his opinions, but she wanted to learn.

His reaction to her second pregnancy was one of bewilderment. The coldness of a loveless marriage descended upon them. He spent more and more time at the college and library studying and writing notes in his cryptic language. Anna didn't care. She had enough friends now to realize this was not a marriage. It was not like those where women were beaten, but there were marriages where women and men loved each other. Anna was too proud to admit the loneliness in her marriage to anyone but her twin.

She gave this baby the name of Daniel Anson Lawrence. “If du do not claim him, at least he knows he is the son of von of us.” Mr. Lawrence insisted she use English to speak in their home. When he was gone, Anna ignored the edict. Daniel had dark hair and his eyes remained grey like hers. There was but one heart in his chest.

Their marriage remained the same as before. He refused to communicate with her and spent his time studying manuscripts and heavy tomes. Kasper was taking the last of his courses to prepare him for Concordia Seminary. She rarely saw him. At times it was a relief to return to her father's farm with the children and help with the planting or putting up the vegetables. The yard around her house was not large enough to produce anything. Mr. Lawrence insisted they were not to live like the lesser beings. It frightened her when he spoke in those terms. She did defy him by having Daniel baptized and attending church with the children.

She could name each time Mr. Lawrence behaved as a husband. The winter cold of late 1849 and early 1850 necessitated his return to their bed for shared warmth. A sudden warm snap brought forth his manhood. In April, she had an announcement.

“Mr. Lawrence, I am pregnant again.”

His face became immobile. “Are you certain?”

“Ja, three months it has been now.”

“Learn to phrase your sentences correctly.” He rose and left the house.

Lorenz Adolph was born the last week of October. He and Daniel looked alike, but in his chest beat two hearts. Mr. Lawrence became white-faced with the news. He did not return for two weeks.

The children and house kept Anna busy enough that his coldness and absence was not bothersome. Lorenz was the amazement. He spoke and walked at nine months. His temper tantrums (according to Kasper) were on a par with hers as a child. His hair remained black and curly like hers and his eyes remained a grey color. By the time he was three, he was trying to beat Daniel at games and loved playing the game War with his Uncle Kasper. Mr. Lawrence once again visited their marriage bed.

The inevitable occurred.

“Mr. Lawrence, I am with child.”

He spun on his heel and remained absent for three weeks. When he returned, he made his announcement.

“When you are strong enough after bearing this child, we will leave for Texas. I have land there.”

That night, Anna had written to her brother. She sealed the envelope and on the outside she wrote: To be opened upon verification of my death.

“My beautiful little girl, you have suffered so much. Your hair is whiter than mine.”

Johann Schmidt had returned from the fields and enfolded Anna in a bear hug. The man stood six feet four and had the stocky farmer's build. At sixty-three he was still solid and could see without glasses. His hair was grey, but abundant.

For a moment they stood with arms wrapped around each other. Then Johann bent and kissed her cheek and Anna rose on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

“Come, Papa, you must meet my husband.”

MacDonald was standing just behind them, his amused brown eyes surveying the scene.

Johann looked at MacDonald's chin and then lifted his eyes upward.

“Papa, this is my husband, Zebediah L. MacDonald. Mr. MacDonald, this is my papa, Mr. Johann Schmidt.”

The two men shook hands. Anna performed the introduction in German and Johann used German also. “It's not often I have to look up at a man.”

A smile broke MacDonald's face. “And it is not often that I meet a man that is almost as large as I.”

“You are a farmer?”

“Rancher.”

“And what is the difference? You raise cattle. You have to grow crops to feed them.”

“They are range cattle, longhorns, they eat prairie grass. Anna is insisting we purchase a milk cow so for that we will need to raise hay.”

“Don't you fatten them before driving them into town?”

“Longhorns aren't that good for tallow and there is no market for meat in the closest town, as other ranchers live closer. My neighboring rancher and I have driven herds as far as New Orleans and up into the Indian Territory for the reservation. The cattle eat grass on the way.”

“How can you get a decent price for them?”

“The price is decent enough. The ones we sell in Texas are for bones. The ones we drive to the reservation or New Orleans are slaughtered for meat. The U.S. government has a set price, but longhorn meat is lean and it goes to the poorer butcher shops in New Orleans. That city is so big they need meat. They're not too fond of Yankees, and that is pretty much what Friend Rolfe and I are considered. We don't stay. It's probably just as well, for then our money isn't wasted on high living.”

Johann smiled. “Come in, come in, and meet my Frau and what children are there. Emil is putting away my team, and then I must finish chores.”

The Schmidt's dinner table was huge and piled with food from the garden. Chickens had been butchered for the occasion. Meat was rarely eaten except at winter butchering time for there was no way to keep it other than salting, making corned beef, or canning. Ice was too expensive. Pigs were used more for meat than beef. Pork could be smoked, made into sausage, and pickled. The sausage kept best deep in crock jars, and sealed with rendered lard or in winter stuffed into the intestines and strung in an unheated room.

Johanna rang the bell for dinner. She was displeased when Anna had appeared to help the last half-hour. Part of Johanna was relieved to see her alive, but alarmed that once again someone other than her children would make claims on the Schmidt farm when Johann died. She was twenty years younger. The man was in his sixties. He wouldn't live much longer.

She and Johann had six children, five of them living, and she was expecting the next one. Anna was acting like she ran things, exclaiming over her mother's dishes. Johanna's lips were compressed as she rang the bell again.

“Dinner.”

Everyone trooped into the dining room. The table was heaped with the chickens, gravy, mashed potatoes, sliced tomatoes, corn on the cob, butter, homemade dark bread, pickled onions and cucumbers, two pitchers of milk, one smaller pitcher of cream, three different types of jams and jellies, and a desert made with mulberries, crumbs, and sugar.

Johann led the family in prayer and the passing of food began. Each one began talking about the events during the years they were separated.

“Kasper's store is prospering. There are more people in Schmidt's Corner now and the neighboring ranchers also buy supplies there.”

“Trinity Evangelical has a new Vicar. He needs to mature.” Johann was surprised that the man was thirty years his junior. It was unsettling. “He preaches if Pastor Walther is gone. I can read just as well as he does.”

“But you can't read in Latin, Herr Schmidt.” Johanna had nothing but reverence for the Vicar.

“Or Greek, Frau Schmidt, but if Kasper were still here, he could do that.”

“Kasper decided to get married instead of becoming a pastor and waiting to marry.” Johanna sniffed. The implication was clear. Kasper had erred. She still resented the money spent for his education.

“They are very happy.” Anna would tolerate no aspersions against her twin. “And Hans is growing rapidly.”

“Do you think you will study to be a pastor?” MacDonald asked the young man seated across from him.

Emil was tall, gangly, and sour-faced. He'd spent his time eating as rapidly as possible and ignoring MacDonald and Anna.

“No, I don't waste my time like Kasper.”

“That was not wasted time. He even lent me his books.”

Emil glared at Anna. “Why? You're a woman. You don't need school.”

“Emil, that is enough.” Johann raised his voice to his son. “Everyone needs to know how to read God's Word and stop the shopkeepers from gouging them.”

Emil looked doubtful and spooned more potatoes onto his plate.

Anna helped with the dishes when the men left the dining room. MacDonald had a set look to his face.

At three o'clock Anna walked out to the field carrying a wicker basket filled with sandwiches, cookies, and water. They were putting the sheaves into stacks. First two were stood upright and leaned together, two more leaned against their sides, and another spread out over the top to shed water if it should rain or sprinkle before the thresher arrived. The horse drawn thresher was due Monday morning. Neighbors would come to help bring in the sheaves to feed them into the machine.

MacDonald did a quick calculation. He was hot, dirty, sweat-drenched, and itchy from the oat chaff. If they stayed, he and Anna would both work physically harder than they would on the ranch. Emil's animosity had not abated. He had skimmed Johanna's mind enough to know that she resented Anna and anything that Anna said or did. The dislike between the two was almost palpable. He had not realized this situation would develop when he agreed to stay overnight. Baths for everyone might not be a Saturday night ritual here.

He smiled at Anna and gratefully swallowed the water before passing it to his father-in-law.

“I did nay expect ye.”

“Ach, Johanna was fussing with tonight's meal, and preparations for church tomorrow. I thought it might be best to give a hand this way.” Her mouth was barely moving and her eyes were hard.

“I think we should go into town this evening and rent a hotel room. The church tis in St. Louis. I could take everyone to dinner at a restaurant.”

“Mr. MacDonald, wouldn't that be very expensive?”

“There twill still be enough to buy ye that sewing machine.” The smile was back on his face. “We twill order baths for this evening and bathe in privacy.”

He turned to Johann and switched to German. “Would you like to accompany us into town and dine there?”

Johann stared at him. “A very kind offer, but we must be up early in the morning for the chores.” He was thinking that Anna had married a spendthrift. She was apt to be back with them in a few years and then how would he placate his Frau?

Anna was thinking almost the same about Llewellyn's spending habits, but the thought of being away from Johanna was appealing. Being alone with her husband was also a pleasant thought. At least they would not be paying for everyone's dinner.