A Shining Light Read online

  Though it didn’t appear to deter Greta in the least, the thought of being banned from meetings continued to plague me, and after prayer meeting I hurried to her side. “We need to talk.”

  She smiled at me in such a beguiling manner that I took a backward step. “Vater is watching us. You should not back away from me.” She tipped her head to one side and batted her eyelashes.

  “Stop doing that, Greta.” I glanced over my shoulder and caught sight of Andrea. She was watching us as closely as Greta’s father was. My stomach clenched. “Did you speak to Andrea about this plan of yours?”

  “Nein. For either of us to tell anyone would be a mistake. It is too easy to forget and let things slip. She might mention our plan to Sister Erma, and she would tell my Mutter, who would then tell my Vater, and then—”

  “And then we would both be banned from meetings for weeks, maybe months.” My muscles tightened at the thought.

  “Ja, so you should keep your lips sealed.” Greta’s charming smile returned as her father and mother approached.

  “Brother Dirk! Is a fine evening, ja?” Greta’s father lightly slapped my shoulder. “You should walk back to the house with Greta. I am sure she would enjoy your company.”

  Unless I moved quickly, my opportunity would disappear. I needed to call a halt to this idea before it went any further. I came alongside her and then motioned for her to fall back a short distance. “I have decided this arrangement is not a gut plan. It goes against everything we believe.”

  Any sign of her earlier smile disappeared. “There is no reason to change things. The plan is perfect.” Her angry words hissed on the evening breeze.

  Startled by her animosity, I returned her frown. “It is a very bad idea. Now that I have had more time to think, I cannot agree to deceive your Vater. If you are determined to carry out this idea, you will need to find someone else.”

  She stopped midstep and glared at me. “You already agreed, Dirk. You cannot go back on your word. Besides, you know I have no interest in anyone other than Benjamin. And how could I tell another man what I have told you? They would never agree to spend time with me if they knew it was only a scheme so that I could eventually marry Benjamin.”

  I sighed. It would do no good to tell her she might find another man more appealing once Benjamin moved from the village. She had considered this plan for a far longer time and in much more detail than I had imagined. “Let me have some time to think about some other idea.”

  Her mother stopped and glanced over her shoulder. “Greta! You should continue walking.”

  She dismissed my suggestion with a shake of her head. “You are supposed to be my friend. Friends help each other, Dirk.”

  We were within hearing distance of her parents, so I lowered my voice and leaned closer as we walked. “It is unfair to deceive your Vater, and I do not think our heavenly Father would approve of such a decision, either. There must be some other way.”

  “There is not. Besides, I told my Vater you asked to take me on a picnic next Sunday afternoon.” She smiled. “He was very pleased to give his approval.”

  I gasped. “But I did not invite you to go to a picnic next Sunday. I have not invited you to go anywhere.”

  “I know, but I wanted to move forward with the plan. You had already agreed, and I decided the sooner we began, the sooner I could tell my Vater that my feelings for Benjamin have not changed.” Her eyes flashed with anger. “Don’t make a fool of me, Dirk.”

  My stomach muscles tightened. “I will go to the picnic, but only as your friend, and you should not take this plan any further. Do not tell others we are courting, and understand that I will not ask for your father’s permission to court you. If anyone asks, I will tell them we remain no more than friends.” I met her fiery gaze. “I do not want you to tell others untruths that will later cause you embarrassment. You understand what I am telling you, ja?”

  She clenched her lips together and marched off without an answer. There was no doubt I had angered her. If I had refused to help her when she first asked, I wouldn’t be in the middle of this precarious situation. Though she hadn’t agreed, I would have to trust that Greta would go no further with her scheme.

  Andrea

  Sister Erma bustled into the kitchen on Sunday wearing her black gauze cap with delicate black tatted edging and her sheer black wool shoulder shawl. Tucked in the crook of her arm, she carried her Bible and Psalterspiel, the large book that contained the psalms and hymns sung during Sunday meetings.

  She stopped in front of the kitchen door. “Before long, the snow will fly and I will need to replace this lightweight shawl with my heavy one. Each year the seasons pass with greater speed. As you get older, you will notice.” Her eyes clouded with a hint of sadness as she turned to face me. “You have any questions before Lukas and I depart for meeting?”

  I shook my head. “Lukas is waiting for you on the porch.” I had given him strict instructions to remain on the porch. The grass remained wet with early morning dew, and I didn’t want him going to meeting with wet or dirty shoes.

  “The two of you are going to visit Fred this afternoon?”

  “If you do not need me to help in the kitchen.” Greta normally helped prepare supper on Sundays, and I assumed she would do so today.

  “Greta is going to attend a picnic, and I told her I could make do without her if she did not want to come back early.” Sister Erma shifted the books to her other arm. “She has been sad since Benjamin moved to Main, and I thought the picnic would be gut for her.”

  I was surprised to learn that Greta would be attending a picnic this afternoon. In the past, she had always told me whenever she had special plans. “I can come back early. Fred will understand.” I gestured toward her arm. “Have Lukas carry the Bible and Psalterspiel for you. It will make him feel important.”

  She chuckled as the bell tolled from the village tower. “And it will make the walk to meeting much easier, too. We better hurry or we will be late.”

  I rushed to the door as she stepped from the porch. “Should I prepare a picnic basket for Greta?”

  Sister Erma turned. “If you have time, that would be nice. Otherwise, she can see to it after we return from meeting. Pack enough for two. Brother Dirk will be escorting her.”

  “Dirk?” I’d barely whispered his name, but Sister Erma heard me. She turned and gave a firm nod.

  “Is gut, ja? I think Brother Dirk will cheer Sister Greta, and I think it will go the other way, too.” She twisted her fingers back and forth to emphasize her point.

  My stomach squeezed tighter than a pair of new leather shoes. I wanted to shout that it was not good, but I forced a smile and gave a slight nod before turning away. Had Greta avoided telling me because she knew the news would give rise to questions—and injured feelings? Did she believe it would be easier for me to discover the information from someone else? I caught my lower lip between my teeth. Those ideas weren’t the reason.

  Instead, I was certain she hadn’t mentioned the outing because she knew I would question her for details. And if that was her supposition, she was correct. Although she had every right to go on a picnic with Dirk, her secretive behavior caused my thoughts to scatter.

  While the two kitchen helpers peeled and sliced potatoes, I prepared the horseradish sauce to be served with the beef. My nose and eyes watered as I grated the pungent root. Usually the junior girls would have been assigned the task, but today I wanted an excuse for my tears. I had lost Dirk as a friend, and now it seemed I would lose Greta, as well.

  While the girls went into the dining room to set the tables, I sliced bread and slathered it with butter before wrapping it in a cloth and placing it alongside a small packet of sliced beef in the wicker basket. I doubted they would want to take a jar of soup, but Dirk would likely want some of the fried potatoes and some of the horseradish sauce for his beef.

  The dinner bell tolled as I placed the basket on a worktable at the far end of the kitchen. I hurried to
check that the girls had completed preparations in the dining room and then returned to the kitchen. I wanted to be present when Greta arrived.

  Sister Erma was the first to enter the kitchen. “I will be downstairs as soon as I change my dress and shawl.”

  “No need to rush. Everything is ready.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “The food is not ready until I have tasted it. You learned this a long time ago, did you not, Sister Andrea?”

  I smiled as she disappeared from the room without waiting for my answer. On my first day in the kitchen, I had been warned that nothing should be placed in the serving bowls until it had passed Sister Erma’s taste test. “If you put food in the bowls and it needs more seasoning, then it wastes too much time,” she’d explained.

  Sister Erma usually decreed that the foods prepared by Greta or me needed more salt or pepper, or perhaps some additional dill or extra chives. At first, her critique of my food preparation had frustrated me, but it hadn’t taken long for me to learn that her assessments were correct. I doubted she would find my horseradish sauce perfect. She considered sauces and gravies her specialties.

  The hinges on the back door creaked, and I turned to see Greta entering the kitchen. I moved to the far end of the kitchen and stood beside the table, my hand resting on the wicker basket. “Is this what you’ve come for?”

  Her smile lacked its usual warmth. “You did not need to prepare the basket. I told Sister Erma I could do it after meeting.”

  “Sister Erma tells me you are going on a picnic with Brother Dirk.”

  She crossed the room, but I continued to rest my hand on the handle of the basket. Her gaze settled on my hand. “Ja. Unless he decides on another spot, I think we are going to the pond.”

  “Why did you not tell me you and Dirk were going on a picnic this afternoon? When I asked you if you had any plans for today, you never mentioned your outing. Why is that, Greta?”

  She frowned. “Because it slipped my mind. I do not understand why you are annoyed that I am going out for the afternoon. Sister Erma gave me permission.”

  “And is your father happy now?”

  Greta perched her hands on her hips. “What do you mean by that question?”

  I knew she understood what I meant, but since she asked, I forged on. “He wants you to marry Dirk. You told me that when I first arrived. Now that Benjamin is gone, it appears that you have set your cap for Dirk.”

  “What does ‘set your cap’ mean?”

  “That you intend to win his affection and marry him.”

  She reached for the basket, but her lips remained sealed.

  “So it is true. When I first asked you about Dirk, you told me that you were friends and you thought of him as a brother, nothing more. It seems you’ve changed your mind.”

  She tugged on the basket. “You have a husband, Andrea. What happens between Dirk and me should not concern you. Not at all.”

  I released my hold and took a backward step. She was right. Shortly after Fred arrived, I had told myself that Dirk deserved to be happy, to marry and have children. But I hadn’t meant it. Not unless it included me.

  Chapter 19

  “Sister Andrea!” Brother Bosch greeted me with a wide smile and sparkling eyes as he crossed the backyard. He sat down beside me on the porch, where I was cleaning beets. “I know you are busy since Sister Greta is helping with the potato harvest, but I wanted to talk to you about your husband.”

  Early this morning, Sister Greta had departed for the potato field in a horse-drawn wagon filled with other sisters. Although each kitchen house had its own garden, there was only one potato field for the entire village. As a result, each Küchebaas provided one worker during each week of harvest. Those of us who remained in the kitchen were expected to complete the duties of our sisters harvesting in the field.

  Sister Greta had been pleased to receive the assignment. Since her outing with Dirk, our friendship had become strained. We communicated what was necessary to keep the kitchen operating smoothly but discussed little else. I knew she would enjoy visiting with the other sisters while working in the fields, and a part of me wished I had been assigned the task. Perhaps Sister Erma would send me next week.

  I dropped my knife onto the wooden tray. Any mention of my husband’s name was enough to gain my full attention. “There is a problem? Has he returned to his old ways with Dr. Karr?”

  “Nein. The doctor reports your husband has remained respectful—most of the time.” Brother Bosch pulled the familiar pipe from his jacket. “He is not a perfect patient, but no man is perfect—only our Lord. With God’s help, your husband has changed some of his harsh ways, but old habits are slow to die.” He filled the bowl of his pipe with tobacco before he continued. “You know the doctor has declared Fred well enough to take walks, ja?” He arched his brows and waited.

  “Yes. On my recent visits, we have been taking walks. I have observed his strength increasing each day.” I didn’t add that I had become increasingly concerned about what was going to happen when the doctor declared Fred well enough to be discharged from his daily care.

  Brother Bosch struck a match and held it to the bowl of his pipe. I waited while he puffed on the stem and the tobacco glowed red. He gave a satisfied nod as his smoke ring was carried off on the morning breeze. “This is gut, but now that he has been able to walk about the village, he believes he is ready to move from the doctor’s office.”

  My heart thumped with such ferocity, I placed my hand on my chest. “And Dr. Karr? What does he think?”

  Brother Bosch had leaned close and cupped his ear to hear my whispered questions. “He believes your husband could live elsewhere as long as he continues to return to the office each day to have his wound examined and his bandage changed. He is not positive the malaria is completely controlled, but that could be regulated during daily office visits.”

  I hadn’t been oblivious to Fred’s physical improvement. And though I wondered about our future once Dr. Karr discharged him, I hadn’t expected to face the challenge this soon.

  “So the doctor wants Fred to move from his house?” I squeezed my trembling hands together.

  “Nein. It is Fred who wants to leave the doctor’s house. He tells the doctor he wants to be reunited with you and his son.” Brother Bosch permitted his gaze to wander across the backyard before turning back to me. “This presents us with an unforeseen problem, Sister Andrea.”

  “And what is that?”

  “Here in the villages, we have hired outsiders to work for us when needed—men who could help in the fields during harvest and planting seasons, and single women to help in the kitchens from time to time. Never before have we had an outsider family live among us.” He held the pipe bowl in his hand and pointed the stem in my direction. “We do not have proper accommodations for such a circumstance. There is a dormitory for the men, but we cannot place your family there, and the elders believe it is unsuitable for a family of nonmembers to live in a house with members.” He hiked one shoulder. “I agree with this principle.”

  I understood that moving our family into a house occupied by colonists could present a multitude of problems, especially if Fred wasn’t on his best behavior. To have a female outsider living in the kitchen house was not unusual, but the elders would never agree to move Fred into Sister Erma’s apartment with Lukas and me. Had they decided we should leave the colonies? How would we live? And how would I find the strength to live with Fred?

  “Have the elders arrived at a decision?” My voice trembled and I swallowed hard.

  “Ja, and this is where I will need your help.”

  Not wanting to miss a word he would say, I leaned toward him. “Anything.”

  He smiled. “Do not answer so fast. You should wait until you hear what I will ask, Sister Andrea.”

  Although I nodded my agreement, there could be nothing he would ask that would meet with my disagreement. Brother Bosch would never ask me to do anything improper, so I eagerly wa
ited to hear his request.

  “Even though your husband could live in private quarters, the elders agree it would be in the best interest of everyone in our village if he remained at Dr. Karr’s office.”

  My shoulders relaxed as he uttered the reprieve. “That decision is fine with me, Brother Bosch.”

  “Ja, but we doubt it will be fine with your husband. The elders would like you to go with me when I deliver the news. They fear your husband may direct his anger at Dr. Karr after I depart. If you are present, they believe you can help to soothe his anger and convince him this is a gut decision for his health and for your family.”

  “When will you tell him?”

  “If you are willing to go with me, we could go before prayer meeting this evening.”

  I nodded. “I am willing. Should I meet you at the doctor’s office?”

  He reached forward, knocked his pipe against the porch railing, and watched the charred tobacco scatter across the bricks below. “Ja. I will wait outside until you arrive.”

  As Brother Bosch turned to leave, I picked up a beet and my knife and set to work while trying to prepare for any opposition Fred might pose. I didn’t relish tonight’s meeting, but a confrontation with Fred would be easier than the alternative. If he didn’t agree to reason, we would have to leave the village—and I had many arguments against that option.

  Not long after Brother Bosch departed, Sister Erma appeared at the back door. She wiped her hands on her apron as she stepped outside. “I see Brother Heinrich was here to visit with you.”

  “He was.” I continued cleaning the beets. “Are we going to can beets this afternoon?” The large basket held far too many for one meal, but I hadn’t seen any canning jars in the kitchen this morning.

  She sat down in the chair Brother Bosch had occupied a short time ago. “Ja, I was going to the cellar to bring up some jars.” She picked up one of the beets and rolled it in her palm. “Did Brother Heinrich bring you some special news?”