Cheryl Reavis by The Bartered Bride

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 the children or had he made some other arrangement?
    Mary Louise kept pulling at Caroline’s skirts, and she bent to lift her. But Frederich walked up. He said nothing, taking the child out of her grasp. His eyes met hers over the top of Mary Louise’s head. The anger was still there, she thought in dismay. She could never make peace with this man, even if she wanted to. His bitterness came solely from injured pride at his having trusted Avery Holt, and not from the fact that he’d actually ever wanted her. She was astute enough to recognize a man’s interest when she encountered it, the subtle and not so subtle looks that came when one’s brother or father wasn’t looking. She’d never gotten any such looks from Frederich. Frederich Graeber had barely acknowledged her existence. The memory of the day Ann died surfaced in her mind again. He was a powerful man,strong from his work in the fields, and she realized at that moment that, in spite of his promise, she was as physically afraid of him as she had ever been of Avery.
    Mary Louise started to cry, and Frederich seemed about to say something. But then he turned abruptly and walked back toward the wagon, with Mary Louise still crying and reaching for her over his shoulder.
    Caroline stood for a moment longer, then made her decision. She wasn’t going to try to second-guess Frederich. If he didn’t want her at the Graeber wagon, he was going to have to say so. She gave an ironic smile. She could see herself left standing, the Graebers riding away home, freed of the burden of her presence—but it wouldn’t be because she had let Frederich intimidate her. She had done nothing wrong—at least where Frederich Graeber was concerned.
    Frederich turned to her the moment she walked up. “Where is Eli? We are going.”
    “I don’t know,” she said evenly.
    “Get on the wagon. I don’t expect to have to tell you everything.”
    She bit down on her reply, surprised by the surge of anger she felt.
    “Aunt