Judith Miller - [Daughters of Amana 01] (21 page)

When I stepped around the corner of the house, Carl was waiting on the front porch. He beamed at me. “Your parents talked to you?”

“Ja.”

“The arrangement suits you?” Another broad smile split his face.

Warmth flooded my cheeks. I wasn’t certain how I should answer. “We are still talking about some other matters, but I am willing to continue our friendship.”

“Friendship?” Carl rocked back on his heels. “I spoke to your father about more than friendship, Johanna. Did your father make that clear?”

“Yes, but there are other things . . .” My words trailed off in a whisper. I didn’t know what to say.

The spark in his eyes flickered and died. He squared his shoulders, but he dropped his gaze to the ground. “Did I misunderstand your feelings, Johanna? I thought you had grown to care for me.”

I bobbed my head. “I care for you, Carl. But I’m not yet ready for such a . . .” Once again, words failed me.

“Commitment?”

“Yes. A lifetime commitment. We’ve known each other such a short time.”

He relaxed his shoulders and clasped my hand. “That’s why I suggested we court for a time before we ask the Bruderrat for permission to marry. After that, we will have to wait another year.

I don’t intend to rush you, but I worried some other man might speak to your Vater and I would miss my opportunity.”

I didn’t miss the expectancy in his voice, but I needed to be honest. “Do you remember I told you I wanted to travel and see some large cities? Places like Chicago?”

Wrinkles creased his forehead. “Ja, I remember.”

“I still want to travel—at least to Chicago. I’ve asked my parents to give me permission to visit Wilhelm.”

Carl’s head jerked as though I’d slapped him. “For how long?”

“That’s yet to be determined, but we could speak of courtship when I return.”

“So your parents have agreed?”

“Not yet, but I believe they will. I told them I will return to live in Amana, but I’m not sure Mutter is convinced. She thinks I’ll be like Wilhelm.”

He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. “And will you?”

“No. I’ll return. Why doesn’t anyone believe me when I say I’ll return?”

He hitched his right shoulder. “Maybe because we know there is temptation in other places, things that are difficult to resist. You can’t be certain it won’t happen to you, Johanna.”

I couldn’t deny that possibility existed, but it didn’t change my mind. “Ja, you may be correct, but my heart tells me I will return to Amana.”

Carl’s smile made a slow return. “Then you should probably go to Chicago and see for yourself. It would be best to know this before we begin a courtship.” He gently squeezed my hand.

My heart fluttered at his touch—the same feeling I’d experienced when he’d held my hand at the river. He was the first to understand and agree with me. Perhaps I did love him. Nobody had ever explained how you’d know if you were in love with someone. It had been a natural occurrence to love my parents and brothers. But how did one know if they were truly in love with a stranger?

Two days later I settled my gaze on Brother Kohler while I served breakfast. We’d developed a routine. Each day when I looked at him, he would shake his head—his signal that no letter had arrived. But today he gave an emphatic nod—one that couldn’t be denied. Had a letter truly arrived? I bobbed my head in return, just to be certain. His broad smile told me what I’d hoped for.

The early morning chores seemed endless. For once I was eager to deliver the midmorning refreshments to the garden workers. I motioned for Berta to join me and then grabbed one of the baskets.

“Come on,” I urged when she dawdled longer than necessary.

“What’s your hurry? The quicker we leave, the quicker we’ll be back here preparing for the next meal.”

“We need to stop at the general store.” I kept my voice low and waited until we were away from the Küche before I said more.

“Brother Kohler signaled me during breakfast.”

“Did he say if there was any mail for me?”

“No.” I slowed my gait. “I didn’t know you were expecting a letter. Something important?”

“I wrote to that woman and told her my father no longer had any money. I said she should find a wealthy man—one without a wife. I thought she might respond, but she’ll probably write to my father instead.”

“Oh, Berta. If she writes to your father, you’ll be in a great deal of trouble.”

She kicked and sent a stone flying down the street. “What difference does it make? My parents ignore each other, and both of them ignore me. At least when my father is angry, he remembers I’m alive.”

Compassion stirred in my breast. Even though my parents wanted to control my future, there had never been a time when I felt unloved or ignored by either of them. I could always count on their help and comfort whenever needed. They were dependable, caring, and above all else, truthful. I couldn’t imagine parents who lived with lies and deceit—parents who would hide painful secrets.

“I doubt she will write to you, either. We should pray for her.”

“Pray for her?” Berta stopped in the middle of the road. “If I pray for her, it will be that she dies and goes to hell.”

“Berta! You should never pray for such a thing. We are supposed to pray for our enemies. If God would touch Caroline’s heart and make her realize what a terrible thing she has done, it would change everything. She would become a different person and wouldn’t want to be with your father. She’d be sorry for her sin.” I touched Berta’s sleeve. “And we should pray for your father, too.” I doubted she wanted to hear me speak against him, yet he bore responsibility, as well.

“I know he is wrong, too, but it’s easier to blame her. I’ll pray for my father, but I’m not yet ready to pray for Caroline.”

“Then until you’re able, I shall do it for you,” I said.

I saw my mother wave from the far side of the garden as we approached. I gestured in return but continued into the shed, where we placed the baskets and jugs on the table and then hurried off. If we remained for even a short visit, there wouldn’t be time to stop at the general store. Returning down the path at a near run, we didn’t slow our pace until we were outside the store. Only then did fear descend and hold me in an unyielding grip. My feet wouldn’t move.

Berta grabbed hold of my arm and tried to tug me forward. “Come on!”

There was no denying the urgency in Berta’s voice, but my feet wouldn’t follow my brain’s command. Once more she yanked my arm. My torso bent forward, but my shoes remained stuck to the ground. If I didn’t move them, I’d fall flat on my face. That thought seemed to do the trick. I did a quick shuffle that brought my body into alignment with my feet just as I neared the step leading inside. With a slight hop I entered without mishap.

Brother Kohler stood behind the counter and waved the letter overhead. I wended my way between shelves filled with calicos and woolen fabric while Berta forged ahead of me. Had it not been for Brother Kohler’s quick reflexes, she would have snatched the letter from his hand.

“This isn’t addressed to you, Berta.” He stretched forward, and I accepted the missive.

The minute I set eyes on the writing I knew it was from Wilhelm. Finally! “Danke, Brother Kohler.”

“You’re welcome.” He tucked his thumbs beneath his suspenders and grinned. “There is one for your parents, as well, but I will give it to your father.” He glanced at Berta. “I don’t want to be accused of giving mail to the wrong person.”

She ignored his comment and gestured toward the boxes behind him. “Is there anything for me or my family?”

“Nothing has come for your father except one of those medical journals he is so fond of receiving.”

“May I see the letter to my parents, Brother Kohler?” I asked. When he hesitated, I said, “I only want to see if their letter is from the same person.”

He pulled the envelope from the box and placed it alongside mine. “Ja. You see, the writing is the same.” And so was the return address. Both of the letters were from Wilhelm.

“You won’t mention my letter when my father comes in, will you?”

He shook his head. “I gave my word. Your secret is safe with me.”

Fingers trembling, I opened the envelope and scanned the contents as we exited the store.

Berta danced in front of me, her excitement contagious. “Tell me what it says, please.”

I continued to scan, but I couldn’t resist her request. It was the most animated I’d seen her for days. There didn’t seem to be any mention of my coming for a visit, but then I stopped in my tracks. “He’s coming! Wilhelm is coming for a visit. He’ll arrive next Wednesday.” I clapped my hand to my mouth. Beneath his signature, he’d added that we would discuss a visit to Chicago once he arrived in Amana. “Oh, Berta! He’s going to bring his wife with him. Finally I’ll meet Larissa.” I grabbed her hands, and the two of us swung around in a circle. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

“It is wonderful. I hope you’ll introduce me to them.”

The breeze tugged on the strings of my lightweight bonnet as I tucked the letter into my skirt pocket. Until I knew for certain I would make the journey to Chicago, there was no need to tell Berta. “The letter says he also wrote to my parents and told them he was coming for a visit, but he didn’t tell them I had written to him.”

“Do you think your mother will write to him again and tell him he must wait even longer?”

“I don’t think so. It would be very rude, since he plans to bring his wife along. What would his wife think of us? My mother isn’t pleased Wilhelm married an outsider, but she wouldn’t want his wife to think we are rude.”

“Do you think they will bring you presents?” Berta asked.

“Maybe,” I said, but I didn’t care if they brought me a gift. More than a present, I wanted to meet my brother’s wife and have time to visit and make plans with Wilhelm and Larissa—alone.

CHAPTER 16

Carl appeared at our door the following evening after I had returned from the Küche. Hair damp and freshly combed, he sat down in the parlor.

Soon after, my mother made an excuse to go outside. “I think I will sit on the porch. The fresh air will be nice.”

Once she’d made her exit, Carl nudged me. “She wants to give us time alone, I think.”

I laughed. “Since she’s been outdoors working in the garden all day, I think you’re right. I doubt she needs more fresh air.” I kept my voice low.

“She hopes I will convince you the best thing is to get married and never again think of the outside world.”

“She told you that?”

He shook his head, his damp hair flying in all directions. “No, but your Vater asked me if we had talked.”

“What did you tell him?” My heart picked up speed.

He hesitated. “I hope you won’t think me a coward, but I told him it would be better if he spoke to you.”

“And what did he say?”

“He said he respected my wish to keep our conversation private. I’m sure he wants to know what you told me, so you should be prepared with your answers.” Carl brushed a thread from his pant leg. “It would be good if you let me know what you tell him.

I want to avoid any confusion.”

“So you didn’t tell him anything? Not about my going to Chicago or waiting until I return to discuss our courtship—nothing?”

“Nothing. If you tell your Vater of our talk, you can assure him I have agreed to wait until you come back from Chicago. Perhaps that will help him make his decision.”

“Thank you, Carl. You’re very kind.” His thoughtfulness touched me. I wanted to squeeze his hand, but I could never be so bold. “My brother Wilhelm and his wife are coming for a visit very soon. I hope to return to Chicago with them. I don’t know if Wilhelm or my parents will agree, but I am hopeful.”

A light breeze drifted in the window, carrying the scent of spring flowers. He leaned back as if to capture the smell. “To have them as travel companions would be a gut thing. And the sooner you go, the sooner you will come back home. At least that is my prayer.”

“Ja. And then we can learn more about each other.” I offered a tentative smile. “I don’t know much about your life before you came here.”

He glanced at the clock. “We don’t have to wait until then. There is time for us to begin to know each other right now.” His smile deepened and revealed a dimple in his right cheek that I’d never before noticed. “I think it is most important that a husband and wife always tell each other the truth. That is why I’m pleased you told me about Chicago. Even though I don’t want you to go, it pleases me that you were honest. What do you think is most important in a marriage?” Head held high, blue eyes seeking, he waited for my answer.

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