Everywhere in the market, I felt the envious stares of the other young ladies at their shopping. Karl suggested that perhaps we should visit the stalls first, the better to take our time at lunch later on. I agreed, and Karl held the basket while I chose fish and vegetables. I did so as quickly as possible, and then we went to the woods.
We walked farther in this week than last. “It is such a wonderful afternoon for a walk,” Karl said, and though I felt a bit warm, I did not disagree. It grew cooler as we journeyed farther into the woods, and though the birds sounded more distant as the trees grew taller, there was something so lovely about the whisper of the branches. I had never been so far off the path before, and I smelled exotic wildflowers and kicked at strange purple-and-orange mushrooms. Finally, we reached a clearing near the brook.
“Look!” Karl pointed to the other side of the water and touched my elbow. I felt my teeth chatter at his touch, and then my body went warm.
It was a mother red deer and her fawn, drinking at the stream. “They are so beautiful,” he said.
“You are a city man,” I said.
“What do you mean?”
“On my father’s property, there is a herd of deer. They drink from the river, sixty or seventy of them sometimes. I see them when I walk out at twilight.”
“It must be a very beautiful place.”
I had not thought about it, but I supposed it was.
“It is. There is a waterfall that runs over the craggy land and a stand of apple trees behind it. It is most beautiful in autumn, when the leaves turn red and orange and you can see them reflected in the water. When I was a little girl, I used to collect the leaves and throw them into the river, then watch them float away like merry little boats.”
“That is lovely. I wish I could go there.” I felt him move closer, his arm against my elbow.
“Maybe you can. I can bring you to meet my father someday, and to visit.”
His hand brushed my body. “Perhaps.”
At that moment, the mother deer noticed us. I saw her eyes meet mine. Then she gave some secret signal to her baby, and they both ran away.
Karl moved closer and kissed me. He laid down the basket and spread the blanket on the ground. He held out his hand. “Shall we picnic here, milady?”
I took his hand and sank down to the ground, sitting beside him so our thighs touched. Being near him made my stomach feel like a trapdoor with the bottom dropping out of it. I wanted him to kiss me again, yet I knew I wasn’t supposed to want that, much less act upon that desire.
I said, “Let me get out the dishes.”
I unpacked the hamper, and he exclaimed at all the items, seeming amazed that I had made the bread, and the butter and cheese, marveling at the cookies I had decorated with frosting and dipped in chocolate.
He tore off a hunk of bread and found a knife to slather it with butter. Then he fed it to me, as if I was a baby bird. While I ate, he poured more wine the color of the black-red tulips that bordered our garden. He held up his own glass.
“To fresh-baked bread and the girl who bakes it.”
I drank heartily, wondering if he would kiss me again.
“My father wants me to join the army,” he said.
The change of subject was so abrupt that, at first, I thought I had misheard him. Then his words sank in, and I was first sad, then elated, sad that I might not see him for a while, but elated that here was an occupation my father would understand, respect even.
“My sister’s husband is in the army,” I said.
“Oh, he must be very brave. I fear I would be a coward. It is so much easier to read about wars than to fight them.”
“But if you felt strongly about the cause . . .”
“That is the problem. I am not certain I do. Is that horrible?”
I thought about it, drinking the wine he poured. I knew I would never want to go to some open field and have people shoot at me. But that was not expected, because I was a girl. Was it wrong for a man to feel the same way?
“No,” I said. “Some people are just meant to be readers. Does your father not understand that?”
He chuckled. “Sadly, no. And I cannot explain it to him.”
We were silent for a time, drinking wine and listening to the brook. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”
“Me too,” he said.
I reached for the hamper to take out the strudel I had baked, that he might admire that too, but Karl caught my hand. “Would you . . . wait for me, if I went off?”
“Wait for you?” Did he mean what I thought he meant?
“I love you, Cornelia. I have never met another girl like you.”
And though part of me said there were hundreds, thousands of girls just like me, I said, “I love you too.” I did. I had since I’d first beheld him.
He kissed me hard upon the lips, his tongue exploring mine.
“Should I . . . ?” But now he was kissing my neck, and my hands found his hair, his chest, and there was no one there to see, and we were entangled in each other, and I was like the river crashing through our mill, nowhere to go but where the forces took me, predictable yet beyond my control. I was the river, carried over the hard rocks below.