A Clearing in the Wild by Jane Kirkpatrick Page A

a good man, but we were not well matched.”
    “But you loved him,
ja?
Isn’t that match enough?”
    “He chose not to join the colony,” Helena said. She swept the tile floor as we talked.
    “Christian and I have no such barriers,” I said. I wiped the face of a small child whose berry jam smeared across her face, then sent her on her way.
    “True, you both share the faith,” she said.
    “Couldn’t you have married Mr. Roebling anyway?” Her story was a legend in the colony, that she had chosen service to the colony over love. My sister Catherine especially admired Helena.
    “Yes, but if two people do not share the same hopes, then discord will reign. They will be unequally yoked, as Scripture says.”
    “Nothing will rain on Christian and me,” I chirped.
    In silence she stacked the slate boards the children used, making a pile at the edge of the desk. She turned to me then, and I could see Christian’s thoughtful eyes reflected in her face, his high forehead and strong jaw. “It does cause concern, your youth compared to his … experience. He’s gained so much and given much, not being … hampered by a wife and children. He’s important to the colony, Emma. Almost as much as Father Keil. If he marries you, Christian will have little time for … peevishness. We have been successful all these years because our leader knows how to put self aside in order to serve. I hope you consider this.” She walked stiffly from the room.
    I tried to remember when I had been peevish or irritable with Helena or any of her large family; or when I’d done something to suggestI didn’t put others before myself. Nothing came to mind … except the ruffles that she knew nothing of and were of so little import, I couldn’t imagine them being any real barrier to the safety of my soul.
    I decided not to be peevish and argue after her. There’d be time enough to change her mind when I lived with the Giesys after we were married, while our home was being built.

    At the second meeting with our leader, silence again became my first task, while our leader spoke a long prayer, seeking guidance and wisdom in this matter. Then while Christian and our leader quoted Scripture to each other, I bit my lip and stayed stiff as a boot hook. Our leader liked certain Old Testament words, and very few chapters from the New, except those that supported the common fund such as in Acts. He used them repeatedly in his sermons but always emphasized neighborly love, self-sacrifice, and prayer, and apparently he believed our marriage would do nothing to enhance those colony virtues.
    Self-sacrifice. I knew that was what he wanted from Christian and from me. He wanted us to be like Helena, married to the values of the colony rather than each other. Sitting there, seeing those fiery eyes that made people believe whatever he said, I realized what he expected most of all: obedience. That we’d come a second time to even talk of our marriage must have challenged him. Few ever did. In that instant, I knew he’d never approve this union no matter how we felt. Convincing Christian to marry against our leader’s wishes would be the greater task before me. He was second in command. Would he dare defy his spiritual leader?
    This second inquisition without my being asked my opinion nor allowed to speak told me all I needed to know about what course I’d take next.
    But then our leader turned to me. “Emma Wagner,” he said, “I must speak to you of something you know nothing about but is important should you ever wish to marry.”
Should I cajole him? Should I defy him? He holds more than authority here; he holds power
. “Do you understand the trials of childbirth, the pain of laboring, and the demand that follows?” He drew a hand up to silence Christian, who began to intervene. I sat like a rabbit with an owl above it.
    “Of course,” I said, gaining my voice. “I’ve helped at birthings.”
    “But not to watch the child agonize into