Somewhere to Belong Page 8

  “Perhaps. But Sister Nusser is the one who should be held to account. She told you to return to the kitchen, and she told Berta the handyman could escort her. The decisions were improper.”

  “No, you’re wrong. Sister Nusser’s stomach was upset. She promised I would be back in time to help, and she needed to rest before supper.” Berta clasped her arms to her midsection as if to emphasize the garden boss’s illness.

  Sister Muhlbach’s eyes flashed with anger. “Sister Rosina doesn’t need you to defend her decisions. Go to the kitchen and begin your duties. Your work in the garden has ended. I can find enough work right here to keep you busy from sunup to sundown.”

  Mouth half open, Berta hesitated, but Sister Muhlbach raised her finger in warning. “Don’t say one more word.”

  The minute Berta was out of earshot, the older woman shook her head. “Never have I seen one girl so difficult to manage. And who would believe Sister Rosina would behave in such a foolish manner. Do you think the girl is lying?”

  “I don’t think so, but with Berta I can never be sure.”

  “Talk can wait. Supper cannot.” Lifting her ample body from the chair, she motioned me to do the same, and I hurried from the room to continue meal preparations, a welcome respite from further discussion.

  Thankfully, supper was completed on time. Otherwise, Sister Muhlbach’s mood would have gone from bad to worse. The prayer of thanks for our meal had been recited and I was serving the men’s table when Sister Nusser opened the front door and quietly slid into her regular place at one of the women’s tables. Immediately turning to find the Küchebaas in the kitchen, I didn’t miss the look that passed between Sister Muhlbach and Sister Nusser. Fur would fly after this meal—of that there was no doubt.

  Berta did her best to capture my attention while I rushed back and forth, refilling and serving the bowls of food. When I slowed my pace for a moment, she grabbed my arm with a sudsy hand. “Do you think she’ll change her mind and let me return to the garden?”

  I heaved a sigh and shook my head. “I doubt that will happen. After being instructed to keep your distance from the hired men, why did you sit beside Matthew in the wagon and then walk arm in arm with him? You knew such behavior was improper, Berta. You enjoy creating havoc.”

  She grabbed a towel and wiped her hands. “That’s not true. I just like to have fun. And riding on top of the wagon was fun.”

  There wasn’t time to argue. Besides, it would do little good. I picked up two bowls of rice pudding and carried them to one of the women’s tables. As I drew near, Sister Nusser crooked her finger and beckoned me closer. “Did Berta return to help in the Küche?”

  “Ja. She is scrubbing pots and pans.”

  “Then why is Sister Thekla looking at me with such anger?”

  No matter what, it seemed I was going to be stuck in the middle of this conflict. “You should ask Sister Muhlbach, not me.”

  I plopped the bowl in front of her, but she grasped my hand.

  “Tell her I was sick. She needs to know that is why I sent Berta back with Matthew.”

  I nodded. “She knows. And you should talk to her yourself. I’m pleased to see you have returned to good health in such quick order.”

  A scowl creased her face. “Tell Sister Thekla I will speak to both of you when supper is finished. And Berta should be there, too.”

  I doubted such a command would sit well with Sister Muhlbach. She didn’t like anyone else issuing orders in her domain. And given the circumstances, I was certain she’d be disgruntled. Entering the kitchen, I decided to temper Sister Nusser’s order just a mite.

  “What did she say to you?” Sister Muhlbach whispered the question as soon as I cleared the threshold.

  “She asked if we could meet with her after the others leave the dining room—to explain.”

  “Explain? What’s to explain? Sister Rosina’s decision was wrong.”

  “But you have a forgiving heart, Sister Muhlbach. I know that you can bring the matter to resolution. Then if the elders come to you, you can tell them it has already been settled to your satisfaction. They will be pleased that you have remembered what our Lord says about peace and unity among the body of believers.” I was doing my best to offer a solution. Neither of the older women would want to appear the loser. “You’d prefer to avoid a meeting with the Bruderrat, wouldn’t you?”

  “Ja, of course. And since she asked so nice . . .”

  I picked up a bowl of rice pudding and hurried from the room before she could finish the sentence. Please don’t let Sister Muhlbach discover the meeting was a command rather than a request. The aroma of the sweet-smelling dessert drifted heavenward in tandem with my prayer.

  The end-of-meal prayer was recited, followed by the clatter of dishes and shuffling of feet. Sister Muhlbach shooed the other workers from the dining room and kitchen much earlier than usual.

  “To what do we owe this special privilege?” Sister Hillmer asked.

  “To my kind disposition, but if you’d prefer to stay and work, I can accommodate you.” Sister Muhlbach’s remark was enough to send the workers, both young and old, skittering out the door. All except Berta and me—and Sister Nusser.

  Once the four of us had gathered around a table, I said, “I think it would be wise if we prayed before our talk.” The three of them glanced at me and then at one another. To disagree would appear ungodly. Without a word they bowed their heads, and we prayed.

  When the meeting concluded a half hour later, the two older women had arrived at an agreement. They would accept equal responsibility for what occurred, but Berta would no longer help in the garden. When Berta attempted to object, I tromped on her foot.

  Sister Nusser pushed away from the table. “The matter is settled.”

  We all nodded.

  Unless the Bruderrat decided otherwise.

  CHAPTER 8

  Berta Schumacher

  The following morning when Rudolf arrived at the Küche to deliver milk, I managed to sneak outside and meet him. “I want to know how I can make a request to the Bruderrat.”

  He stared at me as though I’d spoken a foreign language. “You?” He pointed his finger at me. “You want to go before the Bruderrat?” He clapped his hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter.

  I slapped his arm. “I didn’t expect this from you!” I turned, but he lunged forward and captured my hand.

  “Wait!” He stepped closer. “Why would you want to go before the Bruderrat?” He tugged on my hand. “Please tell me. I promise not to laugh.”

  “The elders are the ones who decide where people live, isn’t that correct?”

  “Ja. You want to move to another house?”

  I heard the disappointment in his voice, and it pleased me. “No, not another house. But I’ve been thinking that since no one has moved into the two rooms that were occupied by Oma Reich, they might assign them to me.”

  “To you?” His voice cracked. “Assign two rooms to a seventeen-year-old girl? They would never consider such a suggestion.”

  “You haven’t heard the entire plan. I would tell them it would be easier for my father to see patients late at night if he had use of the extra rooms. Then I would convince my father to let me use the rooms as my own.”

  Rudolf didn’t let me go any further. “They would never agree. And even if they did, your father would not agree to such dishonesty, would he?”

  I shrugged. “I won’t know if I can’t ask the Bruderrat.”

  “It doesn’t matter, because Oma Reich’s rooms will soon be occupied.”

  Rudolf ’s curt reply startled me. “How do you know?”

  He tapped his index finger against his right ear. “I hear things, but I’m not sure I should tell you.”

  I scrunched my eyes together and did my best to glower at him. “Because you don’t know anything. You’re just trying to make me think you do.”

  He shook his head and grinned. “I know.”

  He’d spoke
n with such authority that I could no longer doubt what he was saying. “Tell me who it is, and I promise we’ll be friends forever.” When he hesitated, I pointed my nose toward the heavens and turned on my heel.

  “Wait! I’ll tell you.” He sighed. “It’s Carl Froehlich who is moving into the rooms.”

  “Nooo. Is that the truth?”

  “Ja. When I returned the milk wagon to the barn a couple days ago, Brother Ilg told me Carl would be moving into our house next week.”

  Without thinking, I leaned forward and pecked Rudolf on the cheek. “Thank you for telling me.” I glanced toward the Küche, hoping no one had seen me.

  He touched his cheek with his fingers. “I will never again wash my face.”

  “That’s not a good idea. At least not if you want me to kiss you again.”

  “If that is all I need to do, let me get water from the cistern and I’ll scrub my face this very minute.”

  Even though nothing had been said that day in the barn, maybe my idea about Johanna’s father arranging a marriage between Carl and Johanna had been correct. Yet the members of the community believed a single life superior to marriage. If that was their belief, why would Brother Ilg seek a husband for his daughter?

  “Did Johanna’s father seem pleased with this new arrangement?”

  “Who can say? But he is a member of the Bruderrat. If he didn’t like the plan, he could have asked the other elders to assign Carl to another house.”

  “I wonder what Johanna will think.”

  The milk wagon blocked the sun and cast a shadow across Rudolf ’s face. “Why would Johanna care where Carl lives?”

  Men! They didn’t understand anything at all. If Rudolf hadn’t figured it out, I wasn’t going to take time to explain. “I’d better go back inside before Sister Muhlbach comes looking for me. I can hardly wait to tell Johanna.”

  Rudolf grasped my arm. “No! You cannot tell her.”

  I wheeled around. “Why not?”

  “It is not your information to share. Brother Ilg told me, not you. He will tell Johanna, just as he told me, when he believes she should know.” He stepped closer. “Promise you won’t betray my trust, Berta.”

  I hiked up on tiptoe and brushed his cheek with a parting kiss. “Oh, all right. I promise.”

  Rudolf had been mistaken.

  Carl Froehlich didn’t move into Oma Reich’s rooms the following week. He moved in the following day. I was delighted. Not because he’d moved in, but because I didn’t think I possessed the willpower to keep my promise to Rudolf. Although I’d not yet discovered my best qualities, I did know many of my failings. And keeping secrets was one of them.

  The day was warm and the air cooled a modicum as we neared the millrace that powered the woolen and flour mills for the village. Probably just my imagination, but the mere sight of water cooled me on even the hottest of days. Johanna and I were on our return from delivering the midafternoon repast to the garden workers, a task Sister Muhlbach had yet to reassign. I was thankful, but I knew Johanna disliked the twice-daily trips.

  A budding lilac branch stretched into the path, and I lifted it to my nose. “What do you think of him?”

  Johanna arched her eyebrows. “Who?”

  “Carl, of course.”

  “I don’t think about him at all. Why should I?”

  “Because he’s a good age for you. He’s tall and very good-looking. Your father appears to like him, or he wouldn’t have agreed to have him come to work in the barns with him. He’d make a perfect husband.” I nudged her with my elbow. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought the same thing.”

  She lifted one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “I haven’t had any such thoughts. I know it’s difficult for you to believe, but marriage is not what most young women in Amana think about.”

  I skipped ahead, then twirled around and faced Johanna as we walked across the bridge that spanned the millrace near the woolen mill. “What else is there to think about? We can’t go shopping or discuss the latest fashions.”

  “You could think about ways you can serve God. You could think about ways to help others. You could think about ways to better accomplish your work. You could memorize Bible passages—a good way to avoid dwelling upon marriage or young men.”

  The beautiful spring day begged human appreciation, but I’d been a complete failure at convincing Johanna to slow her pace and enjoy the day. “When I lived in Chicago, I would spend entire days doing nothing but wandering the aisles of the stores along State Street. Mother and I would discover the latest arrivals from Paris or London. We’d compare the quality of fabric and lace or inspect the latest hats and gloves, and then we’d move on to the next store.”

  “Did you see any of our Amana fabrics in the stores where you shopped?” She tipped her head and met my gaze. There was a moment of hesitation. “My brother, Wilhelm, was a salesman of our woolens and calicos before he left Amana. He would go to the cities, both large and small, and sell our fabrics. Like you, he is very fond of Chicago.”

  “Is? Does your brother live in Chicago?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wait!” I planted my feet on the dusty road, unwilling to move until she answered my questions. “Did he run away?”

  With a glance over her shoulder, she waved me forward. “No. He was a grown man who could make his own choice.”

  Sadness weighed my shoulders into a slump. “So you’ve never seen him again.”

  “Of course I’ve seen him. He comes to visit occasionally. If he ever wanted to return, he could do so. This isn’t a prison. Wilhelm was an adult, and he chose to leave. If he ever wants to return, he will be welcomed back.”

  Johanna’s explanation sounded rehearsed. I was certain there must be more to Wilhelm’s departure. “Were your parents very displeased with him?”

  “We won’t speak of this any further, Berta. Hurry up or Sister Muhlbach will assign us extra duties.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Johanna Ilg

  Not again! Ever since Carl had moved into Oma Reich’s rooms, my parents had been inviting him to visit in our parlor each evening after prayer meeting. And now my mother had invited him to join us Sunday afternoon, as well. “I don’t know why he has to be with us every free moment.”

  My mother frowned and touched her index finger to her lips. “Hush, Johanna. Carl will hear you.”

  “He and Vater are discussing repairs for the barn. They don’t hear a word we say.” I leaned close to her ear. “I’m going to my room to mend my stockings.”

  “You will stay here and behave like a proper young woman. I think Berta’s rude behavior is beginning to have an effect on you.”

  “I don’t see why I must be present when you’re the one who initiates these visits. Carl and Vater discuss farm equipment and the barns. Why must I listen to such uninspiring talk?”

  Berta’s influence couldn’t be blamed for my conduct, but she had certainly questioned Carl’s frequent visits. Ever the romantic, she wanted to believe Carl was madly in love with me. She still didn’t believe the visits had been initiated by my mother. I’d given up any attempt to convince her otherwise.

  My mother sighed. “Carl is lonely and has no family here in Main Amana. We are his neighbors, and your Vater is his supervisor. It is only right that we make him feel welcome.”

  “But it was his choice to leave High. If he didn’t want to be alone, why didn’t he stay there—or bring his Mutter with him?” Our hushed whispers had finally captured the men’s attention, and my father looked in our direction.

  “What interesting talk are we missing?” His eyes twinkled with curiosity.

  “Just women’s talk, Vater. Don’t let us interrupt you.”

  Grasping the armrests of the overstuffed chair, he pushed to a stand. I knew all hope of further discussion with my mother had come to an end. “There is a meeting of the Bruderrat that I must attend, but Carl has offered to take the two of you fishing this afternoon.”

 
Fishing? With Carl? I had always enjoyed fishing with Wilhelm, but the idea of spending the remainder of the afternoon with a veritable stranger didn’t appeal. I turned toward my mother. Surely she could read the silent plea in my eyes. Surely she would refuse.

  “Oh, that sounds wonderful.” Mother folded her hands in her lap and preened.

  Sounds wonderful? I’d never before heard her speak in such a manner. Was she attempting to impress Carl?

  “Thank you, Carl, but I have mending to finish. I’m sure Mutter will keep you company.”

  “You can bring your mending along, Johanna. I know you probably don’t want to touch worms or handle fish. I’ll find a shady spot where you can sit and enjoy the breeze while you finish your stitching.”

  “Ja. That’s a gut plan.” My father gathered his Bible and hat. “You go with them, Johanna. And if you finish your sewing, maybe Carl can teach you how to catch a fish.” He winked at me before he turned and opened the door.

  I’d been left no choice. I couldn’t disobey. There was little doubt my father held high regard for Carl. The two of them had forged an excellent friendship, and they worked well together—as if they’d known each other for a lifetime. Without warning, realization struck and I understood what was happening. Little by little Carl was becoming Wilhelm’s replacement. Eventually Carl would become the son my father had hoped for. That’s why Father was sending us fishing with Carl. Soon Carl would be inserted into every part of our lives—everywhere that Wilhelm should have been.

  Well, Carl would not replace Wilhelm. Not for me. We were sister and brother, connected by blood, born of the same parents. No one could replace Wilhelm. The very thought caused a tear to form in the corner of my eye. Before the others could notice, I swiped it away with the back of my hand.

  “I’ll get my fishing pole from my room and meet you on the front porch. Is five minutes enough time?” Carl’s broad smile caused a twinge of guilt. I shouldn’t blame him for what my father was doing. He couldn’t know he was being groomed to become a substitute son. Then again, maybe he would cherish the idea.