Niclas never said much about his work, but Marta heard the other four men talk about layoffs and difficult times at the locomotive works. Niclas got up early every morning and went into the parlor to read his Bible. He said grace before everyone ate breakfast. He set his dish on the end of the table when he finished and left for work. When it neared time for him to come home, she would stand in the parlor and watch for him. He looked weary and unhappy when he walked up the street, but always had a bright smile when he found her waiting. After dinner, he would go into the parlor with the other men. While they played cards, he read his Bible. She would pause in the doorway before she went to bed. He always gave her a few minutes to change into her nightgown and slip between the covers before he joined her.
One night, he didn’t come until almost midnight. She lay awake in a fever of worry. She heard the whisper of his belt. He folded his clothes onto the chair before he came to bed. He slid his arm around her and pulled her back into the curve of his body. “I know you’re not asleep.”
“I see how unhappy you are.” She didn’t want to cry. “Are you sorry you married me, Niclas?”
“No.” He rolled her onto her back. “No! You’re the best thing in my life.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“They’re closing the locomotive works.”
She felt a wave of relief. Combing her fingers through his hair, she drew his head down. “You’ll find another job.”
“Rumors of war keep coming, Marta. Kaiser Wilhelm keeps ratcheting up the German Imperial Navy to take naval supremacy from Britain. I’m German. That’s enough to rouse hostility right now.”
“Do you think there will be a war?”
“It won’t take much to start one, not with an arms race spreading over the continent. And now the political maneuverings of the Russians are turning the Kingdom of Serbia into a powder keg in Europe.”
As the days passed, she saw the toll the talk of war took on Niclas as he went out every day looking for work and came home with nothing but bad news.
She was afraid to tell him hers.
“You can help me with the boardinghouse.”
His eyes flashed in anger. “A man is supposed to support his wife! And what is there for me to do here? You have everything working like a finely tuned Swiss watch!”
Hurt, she pushed her chair back and stood. “Well, I won’t be able to do as much when the baby comes!” Niclas looked so shocked and dismayed, she burst into tears and fled into the kitchen. She pounded her fists on the worktable and turned quickly toward the sink when Niclas came through the swinging door. “Go away.” He caught hold of her and turned her around. He dug his fingers into her hair. “Let go!” He kissed her. She struggled, but he didn’t let go.
“
Marta thought that meant he would help her with the boardinghouse, but Niclas went out the next morning. When he didn’t come back for lunch, she worried. He came in just before dinner, hung up his coat and hat, and came into the dining room. He looked like he had exciting news, but it had to wait as the others came in for the evening meal. He said grace, and plates began to pass from hand to hand. He looked down the table at her, eyes glowing.
Rather than go into the parlor after dinner, he helped clear the table and followed her into the kitchen. “They’re hiring harvest hands in Manitoba.”
“Harvest hands? Manitoba? What has that to do with you? You’re an engineer.”
“An unemployed engineer. There’s no work for me here. If a job opened, I wouldn’t get it. They’d be afraid I was a German spy. I must find another way to make a living.”
She shut off the water and turned, but he raised his hand. “Don’t say anything. Just listen to me. As long as we remain in this house, you won’t see me as the head of this family.”
Realization struck her. “You’ve already agreed to go, haven’t you?” He didn’t have to answer. Her body went cold. She thought she would faint and sat heavily on the stool. “What do you know about harvesting?”
“I’ll learn.”
“And you expect me to go with you?”
“Yes. You’re my wife.”
“And what about the boardinghouse?”
“Sell it.”
Marta felt everything she had worked for slipping through her fingers. “I can’t.”
“What matters to you most, Marta? Me? Or this boardinghouse?”
“That’s not fair!” She closed her eyes. “You don’t know how I’ve sacrificed.”
“Do you love me at all?”
She jumped off the stool, glaring at him. “I could ask you the same question! You didn’t even mention this to me before you went out and started making plans!” She stood, fiercely angry. “Why did you study engineering?”
“Because my father demanded it. Because I was a dutiful son. The truth is I never liked engineering. It was something I did because it was what I studied, but I never had any pleasure from it.”
“And you think being a farmhand in Manitoba will make you happy?” Her voice sounded strident in her own ears.
“I had a garden in Germany. I liked watching things grow.”
Niclas spoke so calmly and sincerely, Marta could only look back at him. Did she even know this man? She had fallen in love with a complete stranger.
“You must decide.” He left her alone in the kitchen.
She sat alone in the parlor after everyone else had gone upstairs. She hoped Niclas would come out and talk to her, but he didn’t. When she finally went to bed, he turned her to him. He kept her awake far into the night. When she lay languid, he stroked her hair back from her temples. “I leave day after tomorrow.”
Gasping, she jerked out of his arms. Turning away from him, she wept. Niclas didn’t try to draw her close again. The bed shifted as he rolled onto his back. He sighed. “You can stay here and hold on to everything you’ve built for yourself, Marta, or you can risk everything and come with me to Manitoba. I leave it to you.”
Marta didn’t speak to him the next day.
Niclas didn’t touch her that night.
When he rose early the next morning and packed his bags, she stayed in bed, her face turned away from him. “Good-bye, Marta.” Niclas closed the door quietly behind him. Marta sat up then. By the time she threw on her robe and went out into the hallway, he was gone. She went back to her bedroom. Falling to her knees, she sobbed.
Someone tapped on her door a while later. “Is there a problem, Marta? There’s no breakfast.”
“Fix it yourself!” Marta pulled the blanket over her head and stayed in bed most of the day crying. When she served dinner that evening, Nally looked perplexed.
“Where’s Niclas?”
“Gone.” She went back into the kitchen and didn’t come out again.
Marta worked feverishly each day, spending most of her time in the kitchen. She no longer sat at the dining room table with the tenants, using the excuse of morning sickness. In truth, she was afraid she would burst into
