Judith Miller - [Daughters of Amana 01] (40 page)

“I know now that you’re right, but I didn’t ever want to lose you; and once you discovered the truth, it confirmed all of my fears.” A tear trickled down her weathered cheek. “But after a while I realized it wasn’t the truth that caused you to leave but rather the lie we’d been living for all these years.”

With a gentle touch I wiped the tear from her cheek. “There’s no need for crying. You will always be my Mutter.” I pulled her into an embrace.

“What about Louisa? Is she angry with me?”

“Louisa sends nothing but love to you. She said she will be writing, and if you and Vater won’t come to Chicago for a short visit, she would like to bring her husband to Amana for a few days.” I leaned back to look in her eyes. “Do you think that would be a gut idea?”

She shook her head. “Not to go to Chicago, but I would like her to come to Amana. We need to put the past behind us and become sisters once again.” She inhaled a deep breath. “Now tell me all the things you did in Chicago. Did you have a gut time?”

“Vater asked me that same question on the ride home, and I told him he must wait until you were present. So now we must wait for him.”

Mother laughed and the wrinkles deepened around her eyes. “Then I will try to be patient. Sister Thekla will be glad that you are home. She has missed you, but not as much as Carl did. I know he is hoping to see you very soon.”

“And I’m eager to see him. But I think it would be best if I wait until we have enough time to talk at length. Will we be eating at home or at the Küche?”

“I asked Sister Thekla to prepare a basket for us, but if you want to go over to the Küche and visit with the other women until suppertime, I won’t object.” She gestured toward the hand-carved cabinet where she kept the dishes that had belonged to my Oma. “I’ll arrange the table, and when the basket is ready, you can bring our supper.”

We had finished eating when my brother leaned forward in his chair and folded his hands together on the table. “There is something I need to tell both of you.”

His tone was serious, and my Mutter’s smile waned. “You are sick?” I could hear the concern in her voice.

“No, Mutter. This is about Pieter’s death.” Rather than looking at Wilhelm, my parents glanced at each other.

Worry twitched around my father’s lips. “Pieter’s death? Why do we need to talk of sadness from long ago?”

Wilhelm clenched his hands even tighter. “Because I’ve been living with a lie since the day he died, and I can’t go on any longer. Johanna has convinced me that living with secrets has separated our family. I don’t want that anymore.”

My father was obviously bewildered, but he nodded his agreement. “Ja, then have your say, Wilhelm. Tell us what secret you have been keeping.”

With his gazed fixed upon the table, the story slowly unfolded. Then he looked up at our father. “I lied to you. I stopped to visit with my friends before I went to the river. When I got there, Pieter had already fallen through the ice. If I had gone when you told me, Pieter would still be alive. I lived in Amana as long as I could, but the guilt was too much, so I had to leave. I need your forgiveness.”

My father gasped for air. “Ach! This can’t be true.” There was disbelief in his voice. “That is why you left us?” He shook his head and stared at my mother. “You should have told us, Wilhelm. All these years you never knew the truth.”

“It is you who didn’t know the truth,” Wilhelm said. “Didn’t you hear what I told you?”

“Ja, but if you had gone and told Pieter, it would have changed nothing. At the funeral Brother Samuel told me he had seen Pieter skating and warned him to get off of the ice.”

Mother dropped to her knees in front of Wilhelm and clasped his hands. “Pieter knew the danger, but he ignored Brother Samuel’s warning. It wasn’t your fault, Wilhelm.” A stream of tears flowed down her cheeks. She kissed his clenched fists. “All these years you could have been here with us—if only you’d told us.” She rocked back on her heels and looked up at him. “There is nothing to forgive, Wilhelm. You are our son, and we love you.”

My thoughts swirled as I digested what my parents had told Wilhelm. Misunderstandings, secrets, words left unsaid—I’d been guilty, as well. I’d run off to Chicago instead of talking to Carl. I’d made incorrect assumptions and seized them as truth. What if Carl hadn’t written to me? Just like Wilhelm’s, my life could have been altered forever.

“And I owe my own apology,” my mother said, “to you and to Larissa. I wish she were here to receive it in person, but I will write a letter that you can take to her. I treated her with unkindness. She is a good woman, and I can see that she loves you. I placed blame on her because I didn’t want to believe you would choose to stay away from your family.”

“I know, Mutter. She understands.”

My mother shook her head. “Still, she needs my apology.”

My father leaned forward on his chair. “And you worried that Wilhelm and Larissa would convince Johanna to live in Chicago, too,” he added.

“Ja, but so did you.”

“So you will make your apology letter for both of us, and I will sign my name, as well.” He slapped his palm on the table. “It is settled.”

CHAPTER 30

Berta Schumacher

Once the train had pulled away from the Chicago station, my father leaned back in his seat. I thought he was going to take a nap. Instead, he quietly said, “We’ve discussed everything that occurred while I was gone, but there’s one thing you haven’t mentioned, Berta. I asked about this before I left for Chicago, but I feel I must ask again.”

I snapped to attention. “And what is that, Father?”

“It’s about the contents of the small leather bag that was in my dresser drawer. It contained some jewels, gold coins, and nuggets. The contents were removed and replaced with pebbles and stones. Can you tell me anything about this?” He reached forward and lifted my chin and looked into my eyes.

“Yes. I’m sorry, Father. I took them. When you asked me before, I lied because I was afraid you were going to leave us. I thought if I had your valuables, you’d have to stay in Amana.” I opened my reticule and removed the knotted handkerchief that contained most of the valuables. “I used one of the coins for my train ticket and to buy Johanna a book of poetry and to pay for some postage at the general store. Otherwise, it’s all here.” I didn’t immediately hand it to him. “Were you planning to use this to go and make a new life with Caroline?”

“To be perfectly honest, Berta, I’m not certain. When we moved to Amana, I had promised Caroline I would settle you and your mother in Amana and then return to Chicago. I had also promised your mother I would remain in Amana for two years, and if we weren’t happy then, we would leave and return to Chicago. Either way, I would need finances in order to begin life anew. The valuables in that pouch were my inheritance from your grandmother. I turned over all the rest of our assets to the elders when we were given permission to move to Amana.”

“So you had considered leaving us?”

He bowed his head. “I had. But after we were settled and I was away from Chicago, I knew that I couldn’t leave you or your mother. I corresponded with Caroline for a short time. She continued to write and encouraged me to leave Amana. I won’t deny that I was tempted.”

“Did you see her when you arrived in Chicago?”

“No, Berta. I didn’t see her.”

“Did you go to her house?” He hesitated for a moment too long, and I knew. “You did, didn’t you!”

“Yes. But not to reunite with her. I needed to return something to her, a gift she’d given to me—a watch that had belonged to her father.” He glanced out the train window and then looked back at me. “I left the watch with the housekeeper. She told me Caroline had sailed for Europe two days before my arrival.”

“Were you surprised she was gone?”

“As a matter of fact, I was. In her earlier letters, she’d indicated she was going to her summer home later in the season. There’d been no mention of Europe.” He unclasped his hands and rested his palms on his pant legs.

Something had caused Caroline’s early departure. I wondered if my letter had been the reason, but I didn’t suppose I’d ever know. And probably it was just as well.

“Now what will happen? Between you and Mother?”

My father brushed a lock of hair from my forehead. “You must remember that it takes time to heal, Berta. Your mother will not soon forget the pain I have caused her. Trust isn’t easily restored when you’ve wronged someone. Although you’re still young, you need to remember what I’m telling you so that you will more carefully weigh the choices you make in the future.”

My father’s words weren’t as necessary as he probably thought. Ever since the incident in the kitchen when Lydia was injured, I’d been dwelling on my past behavior and the consequences others had suffered because of me. More than once the shame had been almost too much to bear. I’d been trying to remember that no sin was too great for God’s forgiveness—at least that’s what Johanna had told me. She’d even shown me the verses in the Bible. But I knew I must do more in order to find complete peace in my heart.

“Iowa City! Iowa City!” The conductor’s shout awakened me, and I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

Once we got off the train, Father gathered our baggage. While I stood watch over his trunk and my meager belongings, he walked to the livery and rented a horse and carriage. He helped me inside and then took the reins.

We’d gone only a short distance when I decided to ask his opinion regarding my future. “Do you think I should attend the boarding school?”

“I think you should view the school with an open mind before you make your choice. Afterward, if you’re still having difficulty deciding what to do, we’ll talk.”

“Then you think I should go to the school.”

My father chuckled. “That’s not what I said, Berta. If you choose based upon what I want, you won’t be committed to the decision. I want you to pick the place where you believe you will be happy and flourish.”

Now that I’d been granted a say in the matter, making choices didn’t seem such a grand idea. There would be no one else to blame for my unhappy lot in life. And I was certain I’d
flourish
in either place—whatever that was supposed to mean. “I do think Chicago is the best choice for all of us, but I don’t suppose that’s an option.”

“Not at the moment. I gave your mother my word that I would remain in Amana for at least two full years. Like you, I wasn’t completely committed to the decision when we arrived, but during my time in Chicago I met a man who helped me understand that I need to go beyond honoring my word; I need to do it with an open heart and an open mind. That’s what you must do, as well, Berta.”

We continued down the streets of Iowa City. Though it couldn’t compare to Chicago, it seemed a nice enough town, with sturdy brick-and-frame storefronts and a stone capitol building that likely was considered the crowning glory of the town. My father mentioned that the capital was moved to Des Moines some twenty years ago. The carriage slowed as we approached a sprawling two-story brick-and-stone edifice outside the confines of the town.

I stared at the mansion. “This seems somewhat out of place.”