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Authors: The Baby Bequest

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During the social period after the meeting, many men who’d never spoken to Kurt came up to him, surprising him with their congratulations and thanks for exposing the lying woman. They even shook his hand. He knew he’d always be “the Dutchman” in their minds, but something had shifted for them—he could see it in their eyes. Perhaps something had shifted inside him, too.

Finally, only Kurt, Gunther, the Ashfords and Miss Thurston remained. Mrs. Ashford sent Kurt an appraising look and said, “I think Amanda and Gunther and William should come home with us now. It’s time you two had a talk,” she said sternly.

And with that, Ellen and Kurt were left alone.

Without a word, Ellen led Kurt into her quarters. In front of the fire, she turned to face him. Her gratitude to him for saving William was tempered by a need to know, to come to an understanding of what had broken them apart. “You were wonderful,” she said simply.

The words released something in Kurt, and before he could stop himself he had taken her into his arms. He held her, whispering,
“Liebschen.”

Ellen leaned back and looked up at him. “Why have you been avoiding me, Kurt? Was it Randolph?”

“He told me to stay away from you. That you’re too good for me.” At the time, the words had been very painful to hear, but Kurt said them now as if they were nothing—and they were.

Ellen didn’t know whether to be relieved or infuriated. “But that is not what has kept you away, is it?” she pressed him.

Kurt exhaled loudly. “It wasn’t just your brother. I already knew he didn’t think me good enough for you.”

“Then what?” She rested a hand against the mantel.

The light from the fire cast her in a glow, highlighting the golden strands in her light brown hair. She was so lovely. He must speak now, tell her everything. It was time.

“Ellen, it was because I did not
feel
good enough for you.” The old sorrow hung around his neck, threatening to weigh him down. But he reeled himself in, and focused on her. “Bad things happened to us in Germany.”

“That’s what Gunther said. But can’t you tell me what happened there? Don’t you trust me?”

“With my life,” he said, resting a palm against her soft cheek for just a moment. Then he leaned forward and braced his hands against the mantel, gazing down at the low fire. “After a wasted life, my father gambled away our farm and then hanged himself in the barn.”

Ellen gasped and then wrapped her arms around Kurt’s shoulders as best she could, resting her head against his as he continued to stare into the fire. “Oh, Kurt, how awful for you.”

Her words, spoken with heartfelt sympathy, released the pain in him. Tears flowed and he couldn’t stanch them. They washed down his face, cleansing him.

“I found him. I will never forget the sight. And after...no one would speak to us. Or even look at us. Because he was a suicide, we couldn’t bury him in the churchyard. My fiancée ended our engagement with a note tacked on my door. Gunther and Johann and I were left with just enough to pay for our fares and some money to start over. We left the week after.”

Kurt straightened without breaking their connection. He held her close and breathed in her sweet scent. “Ellen, my sweet Ellen.”

“Yes,” she murmured, “I am your Ellen. And you are my Kurt. I love you and will not let you go, no matter what,” she said with all the fierceness she felt. “No one here needs to know what happened over there, Kurt. It wasn’t your fault. When my little brother died, for years I blamed myself deep within. But it was false guilt, as is yours. There is no way you could have stopped your father. A son can’t control a father.”

Kurt received her words as absolution—at last. “You’re right.”

“God must think we’re slow. We’ve blamed ourselves for losses we had no hand in. That isn’t what He wants for us.”

Kurt nodded against her.

They held each other a long, silent time and Ellen reveled in his strength and the very handsomeness that had at first made him suspect. With a lighter heart, she tousled his golden curls. “Kurt, you’re too handsome to marry the old maid schoolmarm.”

“Foolishness. You are a beauty. But you must know that I will always be
that Dutchman,
” he said.

“And I’ll always love
that Dutchman,
” she said, stroking his cheek with her soft palm.

He clasped her to him again, thanking God for this woman, this special gift. He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her as he had wanted to for so long.

Ellen drew his breath in and reveled in his gentle yet demanding kiss. She had never been kissed like this and with such love in all her life.

“Will you be my wife,
Liebschen?

Words she had thought she never wanted to hear. How foolish. Of course, what really mattered was the man who said them. “Yes, Kurt, I will be your wife.” Joy enveloped her. She wanted to stand on tiptoe and sing.

Kurt laughed aloud as if he also couldn’t contain his joy at this special moment.

She now knew the difference between calf love and real love. Kurt was her real McCoy.

* * *

Snow fell thick and fast on Sunday morning. It was almost time for worship to begin. Ellen dressed with care, wanting to look her best on this very special day. She finished getting William ready and then carried him into the schoolroom.

Martin and Ophelia had returned from Galena. They sat in their usual place but this time Kurt, Gunther and Johann had joined them, no longer sitting in the back. Already, people stared at this new arrangement, whispering to each other. But they had smiles on their faces, as if they were anticipating something. Ellen, unable to keep from smiling herself, walked over to the Stewards and the Langs. Kurt rose and lifted William into his arms. Then she sat beside him, feeling all eyes on her back. For the first time since she’d come to Pepin, the feeling was not a bad one.

Noah cleared his throat and everyone sat down, looking expectantly toward him. “Before we begin today, I think that Martin Steward has an announcement to make.”

Martin stood and turned to face the congregation. “It is my distinct pleasure to announce the engagement of Kurt Lang to our cousin Miss Ellen Thurston—”

Clapping and whistles drowned out Martin’s last words. “When’s the weddin’?” someone called out.

Kurt stood and beamed. “In May next year. Right after school ends.”

“That means we have to find a new teacher for next year,” Mr. Ashford said, sounding surprisingly pleased.

Mrs. Ashford was weeping into a lace handkerchief. “I’m so happy. So happy.”

Old Saul tapped his son, who then rolled the wheelchair down the aisle to Kurt. “I told you the day I met you that God had a plan for your life, a good one.”

Kurt shook the large but frail hand. “You were right.”

“‘A man who finds a wife finds a good thing,’” Old Saul quoted with a twinkle in his eye. “And you found a very fine one. God bless you both.”

Ellen took Old Saul’s other hand and the three of them formed a circle of unity as Noah asked everyone to bow for a prayer of thanksgiving. At the end of the prayer, Old Saul said, “May God richly bless you with a love that grows and a family to love.”

And everyone called out, “Amen!”

Kurt pulled Ellen closer to him, too proud for words.

She smiled at him and whispered, “I love you.”

He bent close to her ear. “I love you,
Liebschen.

Epilogue

April 18, 1871

T
he crowd sat on benches and in wagons that parked around the schoolyard clearing, watching Martin intently as he prepared to read the next word at the long-anticipated Pepin spelling bee. An especially lovely spring day cheered everyone, blessing the exciting event. Three other schools had arrived in midmorning to compete and now, after over two hours of spelling, only three students still stood on the makeshift platform in the schoolyard.

“Dorcas, you have won the spelling bee in the primary grade class,” Martin said. “Please be seated until we have a winner for the advanced class.”

People applauded as Dorcas sat down.

Both dressed in their Sunday best, Amanda and a boy from the Bear Lake School, Samuel Tarkington, still remained standing nervously on the platform.

Ellen held hands with Kurt as they sat on the first row of benches. She wanted to get up and shout, “You can do it, Amanda!” But she worked hard to hold herself with dignity, as a lady should. Johann sat with his fellow first graders, watching closely. Ophelia sat on Ellen’s other side, jiggling Nathan, who was squirming on her knee.

“The word is
dichotomy,
” Martin read from the approved list.

“Dichotomy,” Amanda repeated. “
D-i-c-h-o-t-o-m-y.
Dichotomy.”

“Correct,” Martin said,

A burst of applause.

Martin turned to the boy. “The word is
euphonious.

Samuel looked very white. Tension filled the school clearing. His family leaned forward. “Euphonious.
E-u-p-h-o-n-i-o-u-s.
Euphonious.”

“Correct!” Martin said.

Excited applause from Samuel’s school broke out.

“Hauteur,” Martin said to Amanda.

“Hauteur,” Amanda repeated, visibly trembling. “
H-a-u-t-u-e-r.
Hauteur.”

“I’m sorry, Amanda,” Martin said, sounding sorry. “That is incorrect.”

A gasp went through the crowd. Ellen tightened her grip on Kurt’s hand. Amanda stepped to the side of the stage, waiting to see if Samuel would miss the word. She looked shaken.

Gunther rose from the bench, catching her eye.

She smiled tremulously back at him.

“Samuel, spell
hauteur,
” Martin said.

The boy cleared his voice. “Hauteur.
H-a-u-t-e-u-r.
Hauteur.”

“That is correct,” Martin announced with enthusiasm. “Samuel Tarkington, representing Bear Lake School, is the winner in the advanced category and the last speller standing in the First Annual Southwest Wisconsin Spelling Bee.”

Everyone rose and applauded, no matter what school they’d come to support. The applause went on and on till Mr. Ashford and three other men mounted the platform. Mr. Ashford held up his hands and the crowd settled down to listen.

“We are so happy that three other schools joined us in this first annual spelling bee.” He shook hands with the other men who represented the three other school boards. “We intend to do this again next year and hope even more schools will be able to attend.”

Then Mr. Ashford invited Samuel, his parents and teacher to come up to receive the large winning plaque. “Each year this plaque will be awarded to the winning school, engraved with the name of the winning speller, their grade, and the year.”

The crowd applauded as Samuel accepted the plaque with a big grin.

“The top three spellers will receive ribbons.” Mr. Ashford waved up Amanda and Dorcas, and hung a blue ribbon around Samuel’s neck, a red one around Amanda’s and a yellow one around Dorcas’s. “Let’s applaud all the teachers, parents and students who worked so hard to make this spelling bee a rousing success!”

The crowd rose as one, applauding, whistling and stomping their feet.

Ellen felt nearly lifted into the air.

Mr. Ashford continued, nearly shouting over the crowd, “I want to also announce that our teacher, Miss Ellen Thurston, was the person who came up with the idea for this spelling bee. Next month, she is going to marry Kurt Lang, one of our prominent citizens.”

Not expecting Mr. Ashford to announce this so publicly, Ellen blushed. But at Kurt’s insistence, she waved and smiled at everyone. Then Noah closed with prayer and Mr. Ashford invited everyone to partake of the potluck refreshments on the school grounds.

Ellen and Kurt stood together, receiving best wishes and compliments on the spelling bee. Finally, they walked together toward the food tables. “Prominent citizen,” she murmured to Kurt with a smile.

Kurt chuckled, and pointed at Amanda and Gunther already sitting at a nearby table with the Ashfords. “He thinks we will be related.”

Ellen laughed. “I think he’s right.”

Noah and his wife, Sunny, came up behind them in line. “We’re so glad for both of you,” Sunny said, with a smile that radiated joy.

Noah agreed, adding, “We’ve just received good news. My cousin Rachel Woolsey is coming from Pennsylvania in June. It will be good to have family nearby. Rachel is a wonderful girl.”

Mr. Ashford overheard what Noah was saying, and he came over and asked, “Do you think she’d be qualified to teach?”

Noah shook his head. “No, Rachel is a notable cook and baker. She intends to start her own bake shop here.”

Mr. Ashford looked surprised and many around them put their heads together to discuss this startling announcement. Ellen already knew all too well the challenges this unconventional woman was going to face in Pepin, but if the community could rise to the occasion for her, they could do it again for Miss Woolsey.

She looked up into Kurt’s blue eyes and her love for him nearly overwhelmed her as he drew her hand to his lips.

“Liebschen.”

Then they made their way through the line, chatting with neighbors and filling their plates, just as their lives—soon to be joined together—had been filled with love.

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from
The Courting Campaign
by Regina Scott.

Dear Reader,

I loved writing Ellen and Kurt’s story. It’s hard for
us to believe today, but German immigrants or any immigrants (including, oddly,
the Irish) who came from countries that didn’t speak English were looked down on
as second class, and often subjected to racial slurs. The racial slur used
against Germans was “Dutch,” which was a mispronunciation of what Germans called
themselves, Deutsche (pronounced
Doit-cha
).

It is always so interesting to research the language of a time
period. For example, I had wanted to use the phrase “the real thing,” but after
some research, I discovered that phrase came into use much later than when this
story takes place. I don’t like to use phrases that aren’t historically
grounded.

So I substituted “the real McCoy,” and discovered that this
phrase came to be because of Elijah McCoy, an African-American born in Ontario,
Canada, in 1844, the son of runaway slaves. Educated in Scotland as a mechanical
engineer, Elijah McCoy settled in Detroit. He invented a cup that would regulate
the flow of oil onto moving parts of industrial machines.

The term “real McCoy” refers to Elijah’s oiling device. It
became so popular that people inspecting new equipment would ask if the device
contained “the real McCoy.”

How about that?

The next heroine in this series will be Noah Whitmore’s cousin
Rachel, who wants to establish her own business. Again, businesswomen aren’t
uncommon now, but in 1871 they were! And wait till you see the unlikely hero who
will claim her heart!

Lyn Cote

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