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bouquet of flowers she held in her free hand. Her seeming meekness gave him a moment’s pause. He couldn’t imagine Jakob married to a shy, retiring mouse of a woman.
    Dorotea played a sour chord on the organ. “Rikkard, may we proceed? I have other things to tend to at the parsonage.”
    Faith and begorra , thought Tulley, his attention momentarily diverted from the bride. That is one cantankerous woman. I’ll not be knowing how Rick puts up with her, brother or no.
    Rick Joki—only his sister called him Rikkard— cleared his throat. “Yes, shall we proceed?”
    “I’ll be asking you not to be in such a hurry,” Tulley interjected, Dorotea forgotten. “Not until I’ve said me welcome to the bride.” Like the priest before him, Tulley thrust out his hand toward Karola. “Me name’s Tulley Gaffney. I’m by way of being a granduncle to the wee ones there.” He jerked his head toward the children in the pew behind him.
    “Guten Morgen,” she said, accepting his welcoming gesture.
    Her hand was small within his, as fragile, he thought, as a bird’s wing. She didn’t seem the type to come from halfway around the world alone. Yet she had. He liked her for that. And if he weren’t mistaken, there was intelligence in her gaze—and a bit of gumption in the set of her back.
    Aye, I’m thinkin’ you’re the one for Jakob after all.

Chapter Five

    K arola clasped the bouquet of wildflowers in both hands as she faced Pastor Joki. Jakob stood at her side.
    “Into this holy estate this man and this woman come now to be united. If anyone, therefore, can show just cause why they may not be lawfully joined together”—Pastor Joki paused and glanced toward the witnesses—“let him now speak, or else forever hold his peace.”
    Karola felt as if her high-collared blouse were choking her.
    After another moment’s pause, the pastor continued. “Jakob Hirsch, wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor and keep her in sickness and in health, and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”
    “I will,” Jakob replied.
    But he does not love me. How can he promise that when it is not true? It is not true. He cannot love me because he does not know me. And I do not know him. Mother was right, and Father, too. I do not know this Jakob Hirsch. He is not the young man who left Steigerhausen. He is someone else.
    “Karola Breit, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love him, comfort him—”
    “Nein.”
    At her strangled whisper, the pastor glanced up from his prayer book.
    “Nein.” She shook her head, repeating softly, “Nein.”
    “Karola—,” Jakob began.
    She looked at him, eyes wide, feeling almost as surprised as he sounded. “I cannot.”
    “Excuse us, Pastor Joki.” Jakob took hold of her arm and steered her toward a corner, away from the others. “What do you think you’re doing?” Though he spoke in a low voice, his irritation was apparent.
    “I cannot marry you, Jakob.”
    “But yesterday you said—”
    “I was wrong.”
    She couldn’t tell if he was confused or frustrated. Probably both.
    “So you want to go back to Germany after all? Is that it?”
    She shook her head.
    “Then what in heaven’s name do you want?” His voice rose, his patience clearly stretched to the limit.
    “I do not know.” Karola’s heart hammered in her chest at the admission.
    Jakob muttered something beneath his breath, then glanced behind him.
    Reluctantly, Karola looked too. The pastor, his sister, the priest, and Tulley Gaffney were all watching them, waiting to see what the outcome would be.
    She touched his forearm lightly. “Jakob.”
    He met her gaze again.
    “You do not love me, Jakob, and I do not love you.”
    His eyes narrowed as he drew in a deep