Robin Lee Hatcher by Promised to Me

thou shalt eat the herb of the field; In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.”
    He paused in his chores to look upward. “So if the land’s cursed, why do I love it so?”
    It was a rhetorical question. Jakob anticipated no response from the Almighty. He’d never been a man who expected God’s intervention in his life. He didn’t doubt God’s existence or else he wouldn’t be so faithful in his church attendance. But from what he’d seen in life, God let men fend for themselves the best they could. People lived and died while God looked on.
    Unto dust shalt thou return …
    Like Siobhan.
    It seemed only yesterday that Aislinn had entered the world as Siobhan left it. And at the same time, it seemed decades ago. Jakob had passed those first weeks and months in a fog of grief. He hadn’t believed the people who’d told him time would soften the loss, but they’d been right. Time did have a way of healing the wounds.
    He turned, looking toward the farmhouse, wondering how Karola was managing with the housework and the children. He hadn’t exactly given her an abundance of instructions, nor had she asked many questions. She’d arrived at dawn, her shoulders wrapped in a shawl against the morning chill, and he’d left her in charge with hardly a greeting.
    Not a very decent way to treat the woman he’d intended to make his wife. Would he have interacted with her in the same careless manner had they married?
    He found the silent question unsettling. He liked to think he was a better man than that. But then, a better man would have done many things differently than he had, especially when it came to Karola Breit. Many things.
    With a scowl, he set off toward the alfalfa fields, hoping some hard manual labor would clear his head.
    It mattered little to Theodora Shrum that Jakob Hirsch was Lutheran by church membership. By all rights, Dorotea Joki should be the one visiting the Hirsch farm today, but Theodora knew the woman would never lift a finger to make Karola Breit feel welcome in the community, not since Dorotea’s chances of snaring the handsome widower had vanished. Therefore, Theodora took it upon herself to do so, bringing with her not only a number of baked goods provided by a few of the women in the Methodist congregation but also her daughter.
    Clucking to the horse, Theodora jiggled the reins, asking him for a bit more speed. “We won’t stay long,” she said above the rattle of harness. “I’m sure Miss Breit has enough on her hands without feeling she must entertain guests.”
    “Why do you suppose she did this, Mother?”
    Theodora looked at her daughter. “Did what, Emma?”
    “Why would Miss Breit choose to work for Mr. Hirsch rather than marry him?”
    “I don’t know.” Theodora had wondered that very thing, but she didn’t say so to her daughter. “Of course, no marriage should be entered into lightly.”
    “Charlotte says it was really Mr. Hirsch who changed his mind. She says once he saw Miss Breit again after all those years he realized he couldn’t possibly marry her, and so they pretended it was Miss Breit who stopped the wedding so she could be saved embarrassment. Otherwise, her reputation could have been harmed, and Mr. Hirsch is too honorable to do such a thing. Charlotte says—”
    “Charlotte White should be reminded that she who goes about as a talebearer reveals secrets.” She gave her daughter a reproving glance. “Gossip is a sin, Emma Shrum, and it is unbecoming for a young lady to participate in it. Miss Breit needs friends in Shadow Creek, not enemies.”
    Emma blushed. “I’m sorry, Mother. I never meant to be unkind.”
    “Dear heart,” Theodora answered gently, “I know Charlotte has set her cap for Mr. Hirsch. Everyone in town knows it. It galls her that he doesn’t seem to notice her. Charlotte is used to getting whatever she