A Hidden Truth Page 14

  I swallowed hard. “It was almost out. I stirred it a little to keep the embers going and added some twigs to keep it hot.”

  Brother George appeared somewhat appeased. “And you made certain the fire was out before you left the pond?”

  “Yes.” I couldn’t meet his eyes when I answered.

  It had been Jakub who had put out the fire, but there was no doubt it was out before we left and when we returned after leaving his house, as well. But because I didn’t want to find myself on a train to Texas, I didn’t add any of those facts.

  Snow began to fall after supper, and Anton and Karlina suggested the possibility of going sled riding the following afternoon. I agreed it would be fun, but they were far more excited by the prospect than I was. Karlina could deny that she had feelings for Anton, but I knew better. I wondered if Cousin Louise had observed the change in her daughter’s behavior when Anton was around, for she seemed to notice everything else.

  After Karlina recited her prayers, she settled into her bed. “You didn’t appear excited to go sledding tomorrow. Do you want me to ask Berndt to come along? Would that make you happier?”

  The hog-hair mattress shifted beneath me as I turned. “You can ask him, but I think he will have to work. His father is keeping him busy most every day.” I hesitated only a moment. “I am guessing because of your mother.”

  “What do you mean?” Though I could distinguish no more than the outline of her body in the darkness, I didn’t miss the hurt in Karlina’s voice.

  “I think she knows we were meeting in the afternoons and told his father.”

  The bedclothes rustled and Karlina’s feet hit the floor. She crossed the short distance between our beds and sat down on the edge of the mattress. “I did not tell her you had been meeting Berndt. Is that what you think?”

  “No. But I think she somehow found out. Someone could have seen us at the pond and told her.”

  Karlina reached for my hand. “I think she would have told me, but she hasn’t said a word. Just because Berndt must do chores in the afternoon, it does not mean—”

  “Not long ago he was able to meet me most every afternoon. Suddenly he could not. Does that not seem strange to you?”

  “Nein. In the winter there are extra jobs to be done. Timber needs to be cut, and ice must be harvested from the river. Everyone who has time is expected to help with those chores.”

  “Perhaps you are right.” Karlina started to release my hand, but I grabbed a tight hold. “Did your mother tell you about our conversation today?”

  “Ja. After prayer meeting. She said the letters did not satisfy you.”

  “Those letters said nothing more than what she’d already told me. I don’t know why she thought they would help.” I hitched up in the bed. “Did she say anything else?”

  “Only that she’s praying you will forget the past. Do not push her too far, Dovie. I do not want her to suggest that you go and join your father in Texas.” She squeezed my hand. “I like having you here.”

  As Karlina returned to her bed, I rolled to my side and plumped the feather pillow. I didn’t want to anger Cousin Louise, but my heart longed for knowledge that would connect to my mother’s past. Even I didn’t understand my need to gain this knowledge, but I wouldn’t be satisfied until I learned the truth.

  I smiled in the darkness. “I like being here, too, Karlina. And I won’t push too much.”

  Unless I have to. I stared into the darkness and asked God’s forgiveness for the lies I’d told earlier in the day. I also asked that He guide me to the truth so that I could find peace. I thought it was the least He could do, since I had to live the rest of my life without a mother. I would see if He agreed.

  A light snow fell throughout the night, and by morning there were at least three inches on the ground. Karlina peeked out the window and clapped her hands. “When you go to the bread wagon, tell Berndt we are going sledding this afternoon. Tell him I am inviting him to join us,” Karlina said as I prepared to go downstairs.

  I stepped to the window and peered outside. “Maybe the wagon won’t be able to make it through this snow.”

  “He will make it. The kitchen houses must have their bread, milk, and meat. You can be sure that the wagon boxes were prepared with runners last night.” Karlina chuckled. “The horses will be pulling a bread sleigh instead of a bread wagon.”

  “In that case, I’d better hurry.” I pushed down on the heavy metal latch and opened the bedroom door. After passing through the parlor and outer hallway, I bounded down the steps. The familiar jingle of the bread wagon announced its approach as I stepped over the threshold into the kitchen.

  “Berndt will bring it inside, Dovie. The snow is deep, and he will be wearing his boots. When the snow is deep, he is used to bringing the orders inside.”

  Just as Cousin Louise predicted, Berndt arrived at the back door. He stomped his boots on the porch, and I hurried to open the door. “Guten Morgen.” He placed the bread trays on the worktable and removed his cap. “Did you ask for all this snow, Sister Louise?”

  “Nein. You can be sure it was not me.” Cousin Louise studied the bread trays, obviously making sure she’d gotten her full order.

  “What about you, Sister Dovie? Are you the one to blame for the snowfall?” He turned his back toward Cousin Louise and winked at me.

  “Maybe.” I could feel heat slowly climbing up my cheeks. “Karlina and I decided it would be fun to go sledding this afternoon, and sure enough, we awakened to all this snow.” I fastened my gaze on him, hoping that he would understand what I was trying to tell him.

  “Ja, well then I will have to blame the two of you that I had to put the runners on the wagon.” He grinned and nodded. “I hope you will have fun this afternoon. I like the big hill beyond the cemetery when I go sledding, but you can be sure Karlina knows all the gut spots.”

  He arched his brows as if asking where he would find us. At least I hoped that was what it meant, so I gave a slight nod and said, “She told me that was where we were going.” In truth, Karlina hadn’t mentioned our sledding destination, but I was certain I could convince her.

  “You’d better be on your way, Berndt. Otherwise, Sister Fuch will think you are stuck in a snowdrift along the way. She will send the men out looking for you. If that happened and you were discovered loitering in my kitchen, I would never hear the end of it.” Cousin Louise waved him toward the door.

  Berndt tugged his cap onto his head and grinned. “I don’t think you need to worry. Sister Fuch prefers to place the blame on me when things go wrong with her bread deliveries.” He strode toward the door. “Auf Wiedersehen.”

  “Was that Berndt?” Karlina came into the kitchen and shot a questioning look in my direction.

  “Since the snow hasn’t yet been shoveled off the walkway, Berndt carried the bread inside for us.” I picked up the small bowls of rhubarb jelly and nodded toward the dining room. Karlina followed me to a far table. “I think he will meet us at the hill near the cemetery. We couldn’t talk alone because your mother was in the kitchen.”

  “Karlina, you are keeping Dovie from her work.” Cousin Louise rounded the doorway and stepped into the dining room. She gestured toward the back door. “We will need milk.”

  Karlina’s shoulders sagged. “You want me to go to the cellar and get it for you?”

  “Ja, and hurry. We do not have time to waste. Be sure to put on your boots.”

  Karlina scurried toward the kitchen and I followed her a few moments later. Soon the other women arrived, all of them stomping their feet on the back porch and commenting on the weather as they entered the kitchen. Most brought their knitting or mending with them, declaring they wouldn’t go home until after the evening meal.

  “I think that is wise. We may get even more snow during the day,” Cousin Louise said. “We will have a gut time visiting in between serving times.”

  Once the cleaning had been completed after the morning meal, I approached Cousin Louis
e. “I thought I would dust the upstairs rooms this morning while you visit with the others.”

  On any other day, I would have taken the opportunity to seek out one of the women and try to gain personal information regarding my mother. But today I wanted to go sledding. And I didn’t want Cousin Louise to have any excuse for denying our request.

  Cousin Louise removed her apron and hung it near the doorway. “That is not necessary. There are other times when we can dust the upstairs rooms.” She studied me for a moment. “Unless that is what you would prefer.”

  “It is. Thank you.”

  “I don’t think anyone has ever before thanked me for such a thing, but you are welcome. You need not come downstairs to help with the midmorning meal.” She chuckled. “I have more than enough help for that.”

  Cleaning cloth in hand, I worked my way through the parlor, the bedroom I shared with Karlina, and Anton’s room. Only the bedroom shared by Cousin Louise and Cousin George remained. I would still have time to write a letter to my father before the noonday preparations began. This bedroom was a bit larger than the others, but not by much. There were two single beds, two small tables, and a large wardrobe. Soon after arriving, I’d learned that only single beds were used in the colonies, a fact I thought strange, since my parents had shared a bed. I didn’t ask why, for I feared the answer might embarrass either me or the person I asked. Perhaps the elders thought it a better and more economical use of time and materials to make only one size bed and one size mattress, but I wasn’t certain.

  As I drew near the table in the far corner, my gaze fell upon a sizable packet of envelopes that looked similar to the ones Cousin Louise had received from my mother. They were tied with a string and turned facedown on the table. My heart hammered a rapid beat, and my stomach tightened into a knot. I reached for the packet and turned it over. My mouth went dry as I stared at my mother’s familiar handwriting. I ran the pad of my thumb along the edge of the envelopes. There were far more letters here than Cousin Louise had shown to me.

  What was in these letters, and why hadn’t she given me all of them to read? Instinctively, I glanced over my shoulder as I pulled one of the envelopes from beneath the string.

  With quivering fingers I removed the letter. While keeping a sharp ear for approaching footsteps, I scanned the pages. This letter had been written when I turned five years old. Mother wrote about our visit to the department store to purchase a new dress for my birthday gift that year. Without reading her description, I could still vividly recall that day and the beautiful pale blue dress with lace trim. Never had I felt as lovely as when I’d modeled that dress for my father. His reaction had meant as much to me as the dress itself. Other than that, there was nothing more than an account of the weather, my mother’s progress on a quilt, and several questions regarding the health and welfare of Cousin Louise and her family. I tucked the letter back inside the envelope.

  One by one, I continued reading the letters. Most of them contained nothing that I did not already know about my mother. Resignation that I would never discover anything new assailed me. After one more letter, I would quit reading. As I had with each of the previous missives, I carefully unfolded the pages and scanned the contents. The date at the top of the page reflected this letter had been written only a short time after my mother and her family departed East Amana. On the second page of the letter, I stopped and reread the passage.

  When you are able, please tell E that I continue to miss him and that my heart is broken. Nothing can change what happened. I know he, too, regrets our failure to act in good time. Still, I will always be thankful I had the opportunity to love him, and I hope he feels the same.

  If I had forced matters further and fought to remain in East, it would have created an irreconcilable breach with my parents. I know the advice of the elders was sound, but I had hoped they would convince Father to remain in the colonies. But all of that is now in the past.

  As for the situation with the baby, I know E’s mother was not eager for the added responsibility, but I was helpless in the situation. I am thankful for her willingness to step in and take my place. I know she will be good to the child. Please keep me posted about the baby’s progress as you are able.

  I must close for now. Please write soon.

  Your loving cousin,

  Barbara

  I gasped and clutched my chest. A baby. And who was this E that my mother claimed to love? My thoughts raced as I tried to make sense of the letter’s contents. Surely this was the man Sister Elsa had alluded to while we were quilting at Sister Fuch’s. But who was he? And whose baby was she inquiring after? I attempted to swallow but felt as though a noose had tightened around my neck. Had my mother given birth to a child before she left the colonies? Was E the father? Had the disgrace caused her parents to take my mother and leave?

  My breath turned shallow as I considered the possibilities. I willed my hands to cease quivering and returned the letter to the envelope. Then I reached for the stack. There were many other letters. Perhaps one of them would tell me more.

  At the sound of footsteps on the stairway, my heartbeat quickened. After returning the packet to the table, I rushed from the bedroom and into the parlor. I grabbed my cleaning rag, and for the second time that morning, I dusted the grandfather clock.

  My heart was pounding so hard, I was sure Cousin Louise could hear it when she entered the room. Her eyes shone with concern as she looked at me and then glanced down the hallway. “There is something I need to take care of in the bedroom.” Moments later, she returned to the parlor. “You have already dusted in the bedrooms, ja?”

  “Yes.” The look in her eyes told me she knew I’d been in there—and that she was troubled. Hoping to ease her concern, I forced a smile. I didn’t want her to question me further. “I’ll be downstairs as soon as I finish dusting in here.”

  “Gut. Soon it will be time to start the noonday meal.” She trod from the room, her footfalls slow and heavy as she returned downstairs.

  Once I was certain Cousin Louise would not hear me, I returned to the bedroom and opened the door. I fastened my gaze on the table. The packet of letters had disappeared. There would be no opportunity to read the remaining letters, and now I was left with more questions than answers.

  CHAPTER 17

  Karlina

  Dovie’s lack of enthusiasm baffled me. When I’d departed that morning, she had been excited about the possibility of going sledding. But for some reason, her earlier fervor had disappeared. Convincing Father that he should permit both Anton and me the privilege of going off to play in the snow for an entire afternoon had not been easy, but we worked hard and completed our tasks before the noonday meal. After complimenting us on our fine work, my father willingly granted his permission.

  A light snow began to fall as we walked out of the kitchen. The sleds stood leaning against the fence, the runners waxed and gleaming in the afternoon sun. Anton walked ahead of us to retrieve the largest one. As we followed, I looped my gloved hand through Dovie’s arm. “What is wrong with you? I thought you were looking forward to this afternoon. Now you are as sour as Sister Bertha.”

  She smiled at the reference to the old sister who constantly shushed us during meals. “Even with lots of practice, I don’t think anyone could match Sister Bertha.” She reached for the smaller sled.

  The snow crunched beneath our feet as the three of us trod toward the hill beyond the cemetery, Anton on one side of me and Dovie on the other.

  Leaning forward to see around me, Anton gestured toward the hill. “Is Berndt going to meet us?”

  Dovie appeared distracted, and I nudged her arm.

  “I think he’s coming, but I’m not sure. I told him we would be sledding, but I don’t know if his father will have other work for him this afternoon.”

  Anton arched his brows at me, and I shrugged. Dovie obviously had no interest in talking, and though she continued to pull the smaller sled behind her, I wondered if she had lost all i
nterest in our outing.

  I reached for her free hand. “You didn’t tell me what is bothering you.” I squeezed, and her thick knitted mitten squished beneath my fingers. “I have known you long enough to realize when something is not right. Did you receive a letter from your Vater?”

  “No. He hasn’t written for some time now.”

  “So that is why you are unhappy? You expected a letter today, and it did not arrive?”

  She shook her head. “I know he is busy. When we parted, I understood I wouldn’t hear from him often. Most men don’t enjoy letter writing like women.”

  “Ja, but I am sure he likes to receive your letters. You have been faithful to write to him every week.”

  I waited to see if Dovie would offer some other reason for her change of mood, but she remained quiet. Twice more I prodded her for a possible reason, but she offered nothing.

  Soon the whooshing blades of our sleds cut through the snow and echoed in the cold wintry silence. I hoped that once we reached our destination, Dovie’s excitement would return. The sun reflected off the whiteness that surrounded us, and I squinted as I gazed toward the rolling hill.

  “Someone is waving. It looks like it might be Berndt up there!”

  Dovie nodded. “It probably is.”

  My concern shifted to irritation. “I thought you would be happy to see him. Is there nothing that will cheer you?”

  Her lips curved into a wavering smile. “I’m sorry. We’ll have lots of fun.” She picked up her pace and chattered about the beauty of the snow, but I didn’t miss the strain in her voice. Each word was forced and artificial, totally unnatural.

  “I thought I had misunderstood your message this morning.” With a smile as broad as a barn door, Berndt ran toward us. “It’s almost two o’clock.” He pointed to a spot not far off. “I got a fire started.”

  “We couldn’t leave until Dovie finished in the kitchen,” I said. “But we’re glad you waited.” I nudged Dovie’s arm. “Aren’t we, Dovie?”