Little by little, Seth’s pursuit had worn Greta down. Tilde had nudged her along, too. “Think of it,” she’d tell her, “you’d be set for life and want for nothing.” Greta doubted the family would accept her once Seth had proposed. Surprisingly, they were happy with his decision. Then again, maybe they were just happy because Seth was elated; Seth had been coddled by both of his parents.
To be honest, Greta had a soft spot for Seth, even if she wasn’t in love with him. He was honest, loving, and a good Christian man. He worshipped Greta, and he made her feel like a princess. She had to admit it felt wonderful to be treated like that and to be loved so deeply. She thought, perhaps, she might be in love with Seth’s love for her.
Greta knew his family was possessive and controlling, but she felt fortunate to have been accepted into the close-knit family, and she didn’t mind. She’d married a man who worshipped her—how could she not eventually love him back? And as her grandmother kept reminding her, she’d want for nothing.
Seth and his father had already started to build the newlyweds a home on the far side of the Sutherland’s forty acres. The plan was for them to live with Seth’s parents until their home was finished.
Greta brushed her hair, thinking about how relieved she was that her wedding night had been postponed. She was too tired to even think about what that entailed.
Greta crawled into bed and fell asleep almost immediately—the day had been an exhausting one.
Seth looked better at breakfast the next morning, and he apologized profusely for his sickness.
“It’s all right, Seth,” she told him. “We have a lifetime ahead of us.”
“Let’s go on a picnic for lunch,” Seth said. “I’ll ask Tilde to pack us a basket.”
Rhea came into the room in time to hear Seth’s plans. “Oh, no! Not today, Seth. Your brothers and their wives are leaving today. We have to see them off at the train depot.”
Greta was disappointed. She’d much rather have gone on a picnic with Seth.
“However,” Rhea said, putting her hands on Seth’s shoulders from behind him, “your father and I have been invited to the opera house with Ira and Phyllis Madison, so you two can have a romantic dinner and celebrate your wedding night undisturbed. The house will be yours until the wee hours of the morning.”
“Thank you. We’ll put the time to good use.” Seth winked at Greta.
After a candlelight dinner prepared and served by Tilde, Seth led Greta upstairs to the bedroom that had been assigned to them. It wasn’t the master bedroom, but it was large and lavishly furnished.
Seth winked at her. “I’ll go downstairs while you get ready for bed, sweetheart.”
Greta nodded shyly. She watched him leave the room, twisting her handkerchief so hard she tore it. Greta took several deep breaths in an effort to calm herself. Every wife in the world since biblical times had gone through this, and so could she. She could, she could, she repeated to herself.
She slipped into the nightgown Tilde had made for her, thinking about how wonderful her grandmother had been to her.
Greta crawled into bed, drew the comforter to her chin, and waited. She heard Seth cough as he came up the stairs. The weather had been unusually muggy that day, and it always caused Seth problems.
Seth walked into the room. “Are you all right?” she asked.
“I’m fine. The stairs often give me a problem when it’s so humid.” He closed the door behind him and turned off the lamp. “Nothing will keep me from tonight. I’m going to finally make you mine. I’ve been dreaming of this night since I first met you six years ago.”
She heard the rustle of clothing being shed, and Seth joined her in the bed. “I love you more than life itself, Greta,” he said, taking her into his arms. Through slow kisses and tight embraces, Seth chased all of Greta’s fears away.
During and especially afterward, Seth’s breathing grew hoarse and rough.
“Seth, where’s your medication?”
“I left it downstairs in my haste,” he said, panting. “In the dining room, on the side table.”
Greta thought the physical excitement and exercise of making love might have worsened his condition. She jumped out of bed, threw on her nightgown, and sped down the stairs, where she grabbed the bottle of eucalyptus oil and one of his handkerchiefs. Greta scurried back up the stairs and found Seth in worse shape than she’d ever seen him before. Not only was he gasping for breath, but his lips had turned blue.
Greta wasted no time pouring the eucalyptus oil onto the cloth and pressing it gently to his face. Instead of seeing its usual relief, he worsened. Seth gasped, “I can’t breathe.”
She hugged him, not knowing what to do next, praying the attack would subside. Besides his medication, there was nothing she could think of to do.
“Doctor,” Seth gasped.
Greta kissed him. “I love you, Seth.” She wasn’t entirely sure why she’d told him that except that she’d felt it true at that moment.
She ran from the room and out to the stables where she woke the groom. “We need a doctor, right away—Seth’s bad,” she told him before returning to the bedroom.
Seth’s struggle to breath had worn him out. His gasps weren’t coming as quickly, and he looked exhausted. Greta wished his parents
