Secret Compartment

By Dorothy Weichel

Bruno and Katrina are filled with excitement and anticipation as they travel to the new world. Little do they know; they would meet someone who would change their lives forever. We journey through Katrina's life in the new world as she experiences triumphs and tragedies. Her family grows amidst a secret affair that can never be revealed. We learn about challenging family dynamics, the paths their lives take, the impact strangers have, and how we keep and reveal secrets.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Nov 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9798350929553

Book preview

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Copyright 2023

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

ISBN: 979-8-35092-954-6 (print)

ISBN: 979-8-35092-955-3 (eBook)

Contents

1

Their Journey Begins

2

The Voyage

3

The Train

4

Fate

5

The Search

6

Chicago

7

Luggerville

8

Home at Last

9

Ladies of the Night

10

Whoa Blackie

11

Loose Ends

12

Hunting Season

13

Surprise

14

Christmas

15

A Cry for Help

16

The Search

17

Marco’s Own Heaven

18

A New Day

19

Bruno’s Return

20

The Baptism

21

The Blizzard

22

The Engagement

23

The Hotel

24

A New Beginning

25

Robert

26

Second Chance

27

Joanna

28

Wishing Doesn’t Make It So

29

The Accident

30

Truth

To my son Michael Hyzny, his fiancé Julie Price, and my husband John who have helped put this book together for publication, thank you.

1

Their Journey Begins

It was early morning. The wind was blowing fiercely as if trying to prevent Bruno from leaving through the front door of the worn log home. He pushed against it with determination, succeeding this time. He walked out onto the porch, boards creaking under his every step. The sun shone slightly, peeking out from behind the clouds, lighting his way as he stepped off the porch onto the dirt path.

Bruno’s blue eyes, barely seen under the rim of his wool hat, were blazing with excitement. He walked toward the shed, leaving footprints in the dirt path that were covered over by the wind as quickly as he made them. The shed loomed ahead like a tired old friend, boards weather beaten and roof sagging. He removed his hat and bowed slightly, as if to say hello, while passing through the small door opening.

The shed was built into a grass covered hill and served as a root cellar. Many containers, used for canning, were stored about in anticipation of a summer garden. A variety of vegetables were stored there in hopes of keeping the family fed through the long cold winters. Fuel containers used to run farm machinery and light lamps occupied the remainder of the dirt floor.

Looking at his gloved hands, he took them off and placed them in his coat pocket. Dropping to his knees beside one of the fuel drums, Bruno began digging feverishly under it until his fingers finally touched cold metal. It was a familiar feeling, as he had done so many times before. Brushing the dirt away revealed a tin can still carrying the faint odor of tobacco he had used to fill his pipe long ago. His hands shaking, Bruno pried open the cover. By this time the sunlight was streaming through the wooden slats in the small door, exposing the contents of the tin. Bruno paused a moment, as if praying, as he stared at the gold coins strewn around in the container. Lifting up the sweater he was wearing, he unfastened the money belt hidden under it and let it drop onto the dirt floor. Quickly he filled the pockets of the money belt with the coins. The coins were barely noticeable under his heavy sweater, but the weight of the coins was a constant reminder of what he carried.

Walking down the path again towards home, his mind kept wandering, going over a mental check list of things he must do before their departure. Through the corner of his eye he saw Katrina, dwarfed by the size of the horse she was leading toward the wagon. He stopped to watch her as she hooked Blackie to the wagon, her long hair blowing in the cold winter wind.

Katrina was beautiful, standing just to his shoulders with long red hair, green eyes, and a willowy figure that made men stop to turn and stare as she passed by or when she entered a room. As he came toward her, there was no need for words between them. Marriage had made them one and as years passed it only took a glance or that certain look to understand what they were thinking or their eyes were saying.

She ran toward him and into his arms. Her heart was pounding. He bent to kiss her, holding her face in his gloved hands, his eyes fixed on hers searching for any signs of doubt. He knew they were strong, but many families before them had failed, having much more knowledge and preparation than they.

Bags of grain, blankets and only items necessary to the journey were in various areas of the back of the wagon. Bruno lifted bales of hay, to be used as seats, onto the front of the wagon covering them with blankets. Everything but the bags of grain were covered with loose straw.

Yes, he was satisfied. It looked as though they were going to market as usual. He hung a lantern on the iron post, fastened to the driver’s side of the wagon and walked towards the house. They were almost ready, planning to leave just after dawn.

Bruno wasn’t foolish enough to think of himself as invincible but kept his fears about their safety to himself. Many travelers passing by their home had told him stories about people traveling the road to the port. They weren’t bedtime stories you would tell your children. Men were beaten and robbed, their wives and daughters suffered untold agony and rape. Whole families were killed, and all their worldly possessions taken from them. Bruno instinctively felt the cold steel of the pistol he had hidden in his jacket. Praying silently to God, he asked to be given the wisdom and courage to do what he had to do, should he ever have to defend his family.

He found Katrina looking around their cottage. It was if she was trying to burn the memory of everything she was leaving behind into her mind. Tears formed quickly now, falling softly onto her handkerchief. She looked at the bed they had made love in. It was stripped of its covers ready for someone new. In one corner of the room stood the cradle Bruno had made and the wooden horse Anja had so loved to ride. She had bore her children in this room, Bruno riding wildly in the night to bring a midwife back to help her with the delivery. She remembered the tears, pain, and finally the joy when her child was placed in her arms. Years of memories and happiness whirled around in her mind. As she walked past the many things being left behind, her hand reached out touching each of them as if that would endear them to her memory forever.

Taking Bruno’s hand, they walked down the dirt path towards the wagon. She turned back to look at the cottage one last time, her eyes filling with tears. The shutters, hanging at the side of each window, were in need of repair. You could see light coming through the logs, the cold air finding its way through the spaces on winter nights. The roof had moss and grass growing on it, slowly taking it over. In the yard, her garden had been ravaged by wildlife trying, as they had, to survive the cold winters there. She had already taken everything she could from the garden and didn’t mind now.

Straightening her dress, she remembered the evenings she worked late into the night making things to sell at the market in town. Her eyes grew tired sewing by the dim light given off by the oil lamp sitting on a table next to her rocker. She was a seamstress by trade but her beautiful needlework was just as much in demand. Many a horse and buggy were tied up regularly to their hitching post. Ladies from town and nearby wealthy farms coming by to pick up dresses she had been commissioned to make for them. She used to imagine the parties these dresses would be worn to as she danced around the room, holding a dress to her bosom, while Anja and Joseph rolled about the floor in laughter. Her reputation preceded her, keeping her busy. It had been difficult caring for the children, managing the house, garden and working, but it had been worth it.

Bruno worked equally as hard. He had taken a job working at a nearby cattle ranch. The owners had a large home and many barns, silos and miles of fencing. I guess you would call him a kind of maintenance person as there was always something needing to be repaired, built or painted. He was given the cottage to live in and enough land around it to plant a garden as part of his earnings, the balance was paid to him in coin.

He left early each day before dawn carrying whatever lunch Katrina had prepared for him. He returned just before dusk, his back aching and his hands red with blisters from the long day and hard work. He would put a blanket and saddle on Blackie, mount him, take hold of the reins, and then head for home. It wouldn’t be long before Bruno’s head would drop in deep sleep, Blackie would cross the creek and wind his way through the trees without any further direction from him. They had made this trip many times together and he would wake at his front door, Blackie pawing at the ground signaling that they were safely home.

Bruno dismounted from the worn leather saddle that was strapped to Blackie and led him toward the barn. His fathers’ words were echoing in his ears. Son, take care of your horse and he will always take care of you. He removed the saddle and blanket from Blackie’s back and led him to his stall. Bruno fed and watered Blackie talking softly to him as if talking to an old friend. He thanked him for the hard days work he had done and Blackie nuzzled him with his soft nose just as if he knew what he was saying and understood every word.

He could see smoke coming from the chimney and headed towards the cottage knowing dinner was waiting for him warming on the stove. Katrina, as he had seen her many times before, had fallen asleep in her rocker by the fireplace. The crochet hook and yarn had fallen from her hands onto her lap. As he listened to the soft sound of her breathing he whispered, We’ll have a better life soon.

Anja’s cries brought her back to reality. It was time to leave, she could see Bruno signaling to them. Anja ran ahead scrambling up onto the bale of hay, her fathers strong hands pulled her up. She was five years old now, strong willed and wild. Katrina handed Joseph up to Bruno, kicking and screaming. He had just turned one and was always a sickly child. She climbed up quickly to calm him as she sat him on her lap. She had heated stones, putting them on the floor of the wagon, to warm their feet. The blankets she brought out earlier felt good. They wrapped blankets around themselves to keep out the cold winter air, hoping they would keep them warm.

Before the wagon could move forward, she handed Joseph to Bruno and jumped from the wagon. She ran back towards their home with no explanation. When she came out of the cottage, she was clutching a bible in her hands. It was a gift to them from her parents on their wedding day and couldn’t be left behind. She placed the bible on the hay between them, as Joseph wiggled out of his father’s arms crying for her to take him.

Bruno flicked the reins and Blackie understood, moving forward at a gentle trot. They traveled the road toward town making as little noise as possible, not wanting to attract any more attention than they had to. Gratefully, with the gentle movement of the wagon, the children fell asleep.

The trees on each side of the road hid the morning light making it easy to see the campfires in the woods. They could smell coffee warming over a fire and elsewhere bacon was frying. Voices and the cries of waking children could be heard in the distance. The road was well traveled. The woods alongside it created a natural campground for all travelers needing shelter or rest for the night. There were men lying by the side of the road. They were asleep, with an empty bottle of liquor by their side.

It was light outside now and they could see the different travelers on the road. Some wagons had animals trailing behind, others were filled with crates of chickens and other fowl to be sold at market. As they grew closer to town they were joined by more and more travelers who had put out their campfires to get on their way. Bruno now felt a little safer and urged Blackie to go a little faster.

At last, the small town loomed ahead. It was bustling with riders on horseback, wagons, carts and carriages. There were chickens, dogs barking and pigs running in the streets. There were people from all walks of life. The shops were opening for the day and the smell of fresh bakery teased their senses.

Bruno brought their wagon to an abrupt halt. He looked around and again urged Blackie onward, directing him toward a stand of trees. It was a good place to stop and rethink their plans. Katrina took advantage of this quiet time and unpacked the breakfast she had put in the wagon earlier. They ate fascinated by the scene unfolding before them.

A huge ship was docked at the port, you could hear the captain on deck shouting orders to everyone. The men running up and down the boarding ramp looked as though they had not shaved, bathed or changed their clothing for weeks. Some were carrying supplies on board and others were stacking huge crates and bags on the wharf to be picked up by or delivered to the merchants in town. A chill came over Bruno, with the realization that they would be boarding that ship tomorrow morning for America.

Bruno regretted what must be done next. On a previous trip, into town, he made arrangements with the blacksmith there to buy Blackie from them. The money he would get from the sale of his old friend, would pay for last minute supplies they would need for the voyage. The owner of the blacksmith shop took pity on them when he saw they had two children and asked if they needed a place to stay. He told them the hotel was completely filled up but if they didn’t mind roughing it a little, they could stay in the back of his shop for the night.

The blacksmith tucked the bill of sale into his shirt pocket, content that he had gotten the better end of the deal. Katrina and the children set off to the shops in town, while Bruno headed toward the market. She watched him as he lifted the bags of grain from the wagon. He was strong and always made her feel safe.

The town had grown since their last trip. There were many new shops and a large hotel had just been built. The world had been so small and was about to