Wild Heart on the Prairie (A Prairie Heritage, Book 2) (19 page)

Without a word in reply, Jan and Søren strode to the bays and
unhobbled them. They led the team to the wagon.

The row of men between Adolphe and Heidi had grown. Several
of them came forward to help Jan hitch the horses to the wagon. As Jan mounted
the wagon and took the reins, Norvald shook his hand.

“Our fellowship is unbroken. The Lord bless you,” he said
loudly, first in Swedish, then in German. Norvald called to his family and
began to hitch his team to his wagon.

He was followed by a phalanx of men, each shaking Jan’s hand
and repeating Norvald’s words. “Our fellowship is unbroken. The Lord bless
you.”

“Norvald Bruntrüllsen!” Adolphe called loudly, a threat in
his voice. “If you leave, you may not come back!”

Norvald nodded. “I understand.” He stood up in his wagon and
addressed the people.

“I have erred. I confess, here and now, that I have not been
obedient to the Lord. He spoke to me many months ago to say to this
congregation—
where is the grace and love that Tomas taught of from the Scriptures?
This church was founded on the
whole counsel
of God’s word.

“The word brought by Adolphe is unbalanced. The Bible says,
For
the law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus Christ
.
Adolphe has taught only law—and my soul is starving for the truth and grace of Jesus!

“I am leaving to seek the Lord for another minister. Until
he provides, I will hold services in my barn every Sunday. If you wish to join
me, you are welcome.”

In the silence following Norvald’s speech, a few men began
harnessing their wagons while others followed Adolphe back into the meeting house.

Jan called to the team and they trotted out of the yard onto
the dirt road. His and Adolphe’s heated words rang in Jan’s head during the
drive home.

O Lord, my heart is breaking! Such strife and division is
not of your Holy Spirit!
he grieved.
What of the little ones? They will
be tainted with our discord, discouraged from following you. O Father, I would
not be part of harming your little ones!
He was sobbing and could not stop
himself. Heidi and Amalie wept with him.

In the back of the wagon Sigrün buried her face in Søren’s
shirt and the three little boys huddled in his lap, seeking comfort from the
storm of emotions. Søren, his young face set in hard lines, wiped his face,
tears of rage and humiliation running down his cheeks.

Jan and Søren unhitched the team, rubbed them down, and released
them into the paddock in silence. Jan could not miss the anger on Søren’s
face—it was written in a red, seething frown.

“
Sønn
, let us talk,” Jan was weary beyond measure as
he sat on the barn’s bench. Søren reluctantly took a seat next to him, keeping
his face turned away.

“I would not have you subjected to what happened at church
today,” Jan said softly. “It was an evil thing.”

“
Ja
,” Søren spat back. “Minister Veicht is an evil
man!”

Jan shook his head, the conviction in his spirit growing.
The
Holy Spirit has been warning me for weeks of this coming confrontation, yet instead
of resolving it in private, my heart desired to vindicate itself in public. How
much harm has my wicked, pride-filled heart caused?

“
Nei
; that is not what I meant,
Sønn
,” Jan
replied, choosing his words with care. “What happened—the public strife and
quarreling—that is the evil of which I am speaking. I should have resolved this
issue in private with just the elders and Minister Veicht.”

Puzzlement joined anger on Søren’s furrowed brow. Jan looked
away and tried to explain.

“Jesus said the church is his body on earth—and that the
world would know we are his disciples by the love we have for one another. What
do you think our Savior would think of what happened today within our church?”

“He would not like what Minister Veicht said!” Søren
answered quickly.

“I agree. What he said was not true. But how I respond to
such an accusation is just as important—”

“You said nothing wrong!” Søren retorted. “Even when he
called you a liar!”

“Søren, listen to me. Do not interrupt me again,
ja
?”
Jan stared at Søren until the boy reluctantly nodded.

“The Bible tells us that, wherever possible, disagreements
are to be handled peacefully. It says that
mature
Christians will work
hard to keep the unity of the Holy Spirit in the bond of peace. In another
place
Scriften
tells us that man’s anger does not produce God’s
righteousness.

“Yes, Minister Veicht is wrong, but some of my words to him
were spoken in anger
and pride
. What happened because of my words?
Because I spoke in anger, some of our friends have decided to leave and start a
new church. The Bible calls this division—is Jesus’ body divided? Is this the
love he spoke of?”

Jan stopped for a moment, wondering what the Lord would have
him do to fix the damage his rashness had caused.

In the silence Søren spoke quietly. “Maybe there needs to be
a new church,
Pappa
.”

With a start, Jan realized he agreed with Søren. “
Ja
,
perhaps you are right. But the manner of our leaving is wrong,
Sønn
. It
will create unforgiveness and bitterness on both sides. The Lord is grieved when
our hearts are bitter. I will repent and ask him to show me what to do next.”

Jan slid to his knees and turned toward the bench. Søren
knelt next to him. “Ah, Father,” Jan prayed aloud. “I have allowed my tongue to
speak in anger—and what a fire has been kindled by my angry words! O Lord, I
repent. I ask your forgiveness for my pride and brash deeds. Please speak to me
and guide me! Show me how to make amends for the damage I have done to many
hearts and to our church.” He prayed quietly for a long while and Søren prayed
beside him.

They walked back to the house together, Jan’s arm about
Søren’s shoulder. Jan’s heart was lighter, but he knew with certainty the Lord
would require him to go to Adolphe and others and ask their forgiveness.

He shook his head. Whether or not his apology was accepted,
he would humble himself and do as God directed.

~~**~~

Jan and Søren found Amalie and Heidi seated at the kitchen
table. Amalie was nursing the baby. “Heidi and I fed the boys and put them down
for a nap,” Amalie said softly. “I know Little Karl is too old for naps, but
Heidi wanted to talk to us alone. Even so, we will need Søren for Heidi to
speak to us.” She gestured at her nephew. “But first, eat your dinner, eh?”

As Jan and Søren ate, Amalie told them she had settled Heidi
in the downstairs bedroom—Jan and Elli’s room. It was the only logical place,
Jan realized. Heidi was too old to be burdened with the climb upstairs and
down.

Heidi watched Jan and Søren eat, her eyes clear and
peaceful. Jan finished his meal, placed his arm on the table, and took Heidi’s
hand in his.

“You are most welcome in our home,
Søster
Veicht,” he
told her. “But I am sorry for the proud and angry words I spoke in church
today. I am sorry for the strife they caused . . . and for the
pain you must feel right now. I have asked God to forgive me—will you do the
same?”

Heidi spoke for a minute, pressing Jan’s hand as she did.
Søren nodded and repeated in Riksmaal.

“
Frau
Veicht says she thanks you for taking her into
our home. She says she is only sorrowful that Adolphe may not allow her to see
her grandsons as often as she would like. She says she has known all along that
such a, a—” Søren struggled to find the right word.

“Confrontation?” Jan asked.

“
Ja
, confrontation,” Søren nodded his thanks. “That
such a confrontation was coming because she has often heard
Herr
Veicht
talking about you . . . and Aunt Amalie.”

Søren gulped and frowned, trying hard to again master the
anger he had just released to the Lord. “And she says that God had already told
her to ask you if she could come and be a—”

He looked at his father. “What is the word you used in
church,
Pappa
? A live-in something.”

“Ah!” Jan nodded. “A live-in chaperone. A trusted witness to
attest that nothing wrong is happening.”

Søren was old enough to understand but still he asked, “To
say you sleep in the barn? Because you and Aunt Amalie are not married?”

Jan nodded again. “We do not believe the Lord wants us to
marry,
Sønn
, but your
Tante
Amalie was my brother’s wife, so I
will take care of her and your cousins.”

Jan mused for a moment.
So Heidi had already felt the
Lord leading her to come live with them?
He turned the situation around in
his mind, looking at it from all directions.

“Søren, please tell
Frau
Veicht that we are honored she
would come to live with us, but . . . I am still grieved that my
words have created a rift between her and her
sønn
.” Jan sighed and
started to say something else when Heidi shook her head vigorously and spoke
again.

“
Frau
Veicht, she says that you did not create the
rift between her and her son. It was already there.” Heidi was nodding as Søren
spoke.

Jan peered into Heidi’s honest face. “Is it so? What I am
hoping you can tell us, dear lady, is
why
Adolphe hates me so. He has
disliked me from the moment he met me—and I cannot understand why.”

“I can tell you,” she answered quietly. “It is because of
whom you remind him.”

She shifted in her chair and sighed. “Tomas and I had been
married for several years but we could not—I could not—have a baby. Many little
ones I lost before they were ready to be born.”

“Ach!” Amalie said. She touched Heidi’s shoulder in
sympathy.

“
Danke
, Amalie. We had a farm in Ohio then. A Czech
family lived near us. They were nice people, good people. Just different than
us,
ja
? But still good neighbors even though life had not been good to
them. The father was often ill, the mother worn down with caring for him, their
little son, and a new baby.

“Then the father died. Tomas and some other neighbors plowed
and planted their fields that year. We all hoped to make a crop for the woman so
that she would have money to return to her brother’s house back in their
homeland. But it was not to be.

“Ah, dear
Gott
! First her husband died, then her baby,
and then she, too, passed away, leaving their little boy an orphan. Tomas and I
took him in. He was only three years old, and we had no way to return him to
his uncle—we had not even a name or address.”

Heidi smiled when she remembered. “We called him Adolphe.
Oh, he did not look like either of us with his dark hair and eyes, but we loved
him so very much! Such a serious little boy he was. He followed Tomas
everywhere he went, a quiet, sober little man, running after his new father,
eager to help. Eager to be loved. We doted on him as if he were our flesh and
blood. Nothing could ever change that! And yet . . .”

A long sigh escaped her. “When Adolphe was six, a miracle happened!
I had a baby. A baby boy.”

Søren stopped, amazed, when he translated Heidi’s words. Jan
and Amalie looked at each other.

“We did not know,” Amalie murmured.

“
Ja,
I know you did not,” Heidi answered quietly.
“Not many of our friends remember. It was long ago now.” She seemed lost in her
memories until Jan spoke.

“What happened?” he asked softly.

Heidi looked at Jan and smiled. “Such a sunny disposition
and merry blue eyes our little Dieter had! Everyone loved him simply because he
was so easy to love.

“But Adolphe . . . Adolphe was not as easy to
love, you see. Many people mistook his quiet watchfulness as sullenness. And,
not knowing the harm they were doing, people made comparisons between Adolphe and
Dieter.

“
Dieter is such a happy baby!
they would remark.
Dieter
is so handsome, what with his blonde hair and blue eyes. It is too bad Adolphe
is so dark, don’t you think?
they would say. And later, when Dieter was
older, they said,
I do wish Adolphe had a more pleasing manner, don’t you?
Like Dieter
.”

Heidi looked at Amalie and Jan and tears stood in her eyes.
“They had no idea how Adolphe was receiving their words. We did not know
either, at first. But later . . . as Adolphe grew toward manhood
and Dieter was still a boy . . . In his eagerness to be loved,
Adolphe compared everything he did—and everything he was—only with Dieter.

“He just could not believe we loved him for himself. And so
he would pounce on any perceived preference we showed for Dieter. I say
‘perceived,’ because Adolphe’s perceptions became skewed, twisted.

“I remember the first day Adolphe said to Tomas,
I am the
elder son. Just as in the Bible, I am to receive your blessing and the larger
part of the inheritance.
Well, that told us so much! He was a young man,
but he was still trying to earn his father’s love and approval.

“Tomas had a long talk with Adolphe then. Afterwards we were
sure that Adolphe understood. He married Rakel and, when we left Ohio
and moved here, he began to farm his own land.”

Heidi tapped the table with a finger, remembering. “You
know, I think that was the happiest I have ever seen Adolphe. He and Rakel
worked hard and were well accepted by our tiny church when it began.

“For several years all was fine. Then Dieter married a
lovely girl, Gretchen. They lived with us and Dieter farmed with his father. You
see, by our customs the
youngest
son stays and inherits the father’s
farm, not the eldest son.

“A year later Dieter and Gretchen had a baby boy. Another
year after that they were blessed with another son.

“How we doted on our little grandsons! They were so precious
to us. But Adolphe and Rakel had no children. After a while we could tell
Adolphe began to be bothered by his old thoughts again. He felt that he and
Rakel were on the outside looking in, that Dieter and his little ones had
everything including all of our love.”

Heidi lifted her hand to Jan’s face and peered into his
eyes. “You see,
Herr
Thoresen, you are so very like Dieter! You even
look like him,” she said sadly. “I believe that is why Adolphe dislikes you so
deeply. It is as though Dieter has come back—the people of our church so easily
loving and respecting you. I believe that is why the bad thoughts Adolphe hid
away have returned.”

She sighed. “Just as he was with Dieter, Adolphe wants to be
more loved and respected than you, Jan. And the only way he knows to do that is
to try to tear you down.”

Jan stared at Heidi. “What happened to Dieter, Heidi? Where
are his sons?”

Heidi looked steadily at Jan, not speaking for several
moments. “Dieter and our lovely daughter-in-law went for a drive one beautiful summer
day. They left the little boys with us so they could enjoy the drive and the sunshine,
just the two of them. When they had been gone many hours, we grew concerned.
Tomas went to look for them.”

Jan could tell the memory was difficult for Heidi to speak
of, but she did not flinch from it. “Something must have startled the horses
because they ran off the edge of the bluff that runs along the river. It is
perhaps a thirty-foot fall. Tomas could see the wagon, all broken in pieces, on
the bank below.”

Heidi clung to Jan’s hands, and Søren’s voice dropped to a
whisper as she finished. “He could see the horses and . . . Dieter
and Gretchen still lying where they had fallen.”

The clock on the shelf ticked on in the quiet after Søren
translated Heidi’s last words. No one spoke.

Jan pondered Heidi’s tale, understanding—at last—the origins
of Adolphe’s animus toward him. And he thought he understood something else as
well.

“Ernst and Frank,” Jan said quietly. “They are Dieter’s
sønns
,
not Adolphe’s.”

Heidi nodded. “
Ja
, they are. When we buried Dieter
and his wife, Adolphe and Rakel helped us through our grief. They took care of
the boys, the farm, everything while we grieved.”

Her shoulders moved in another heavy sigh. “They took the
boys home with them
just for a few days
, Adolphe told us. But after a
week or so they announced,
We will adopt them. It is God’s provision, both
for us and for them
. We did not want to give up our grandbabies, but
Adolphe said we must think of their needs rather than ourselves.”

And yet . . .
Jan mulled over how
Adolphe treated the young men. He realized Heidi’s story was not finished.

“We prayed! Oh, we prayed! And we believed they were right.
The boys would give Adolphe and Rakel the family they wanted and needed. That
was almost nineteen years ago, and for a long time this was so.”

She looked again into Jan’s eyes. “Do you see how sweet a
disposition Ernst has? How tender Frank is? As they became young men, the boys looked
and acted more and more like their father—not like Adolphe, but like Dieter!

“We saw Adolphe change toward the boys. He has tried so much
to keep them from becoming what they are—Dieter’s sons. But nothing can prevent
that, can it? And then
you
came,
Herr
Thoresen, so much like
Dieter in your personality: A good man, a natural leader, and everyone liking
you. Ach! I think our Adolphe hated you on sight.

“The worst part for Adolphe is . . . how
Ernst and Frank look at you. They will never look at Adolphe like that, and it
has driven him . . . mad.”

Jan stood up abruptly and strode over to the stove,
ostensibly to pour another cup of coffee. He stood at the stove, his heart
breaking for Heidi and her grandsons, for his family and the church.

So much damage because of Adolphe’s twisted mind and heart! And
he, Jan, had unwittingly played a part in that damage. How could he undo the
harm his own “righteous” anger had done—now that he understood how wounded Adolphe
was at his core?

Lord, can you heal the harm I have done?

“I must go to the German church and ask forgiveness,” Jan murmured.
“I will pray first for the right timing, but it must be soon.”

It was a few days after Heidi’s revelations; Jan and Søren
were at work with the cutter. Between the two homesteads, Jan and Søren still
had sod to bust—more backbreaking labor so that they could plant all their fields.

It is our eighth spring here
, Jan reflected.
And
never did I dream Elli would not be here with me this spring
.

They were working the farthest fields north along the creek
when they heard the echoing clang of the dinner bell. It was only midmorning.
Amalie was calling them home for some other reason.

When they arrived at the house, a horse and wagon were tied
near the kitchen door. Ernst and his younger brother Frank greeted Jan and
Søren with silent nods. Heidi stood on the porch, her expression
uncharacteristically sad.

“Father and Mother packed up
Großmutti’s
belongings,” Ernst muttered. “Father sent us to deliver them to her.” It was
not difficult for Jan to recognize the resentment simmering behind Ernst’s hard
face and clipped words.

“Come in, Ernst. Come in, Frank,” Jan invited. “Have some
coffee and visit your grandmother, eh? Let’s talk together for a few minutes.”

“We are not to stay,” Ernst’s words grated. He cut his eyes
toward Jan. “We are not to step into your home.”

So much anger roiled just beneath the surface of Ernst’s
words! But not toward
him
, Jan sensed. Frank studied his feet and added
nothing.

“I see,” Jan replied quietly. He glanced at Heidi who shook
her head. “I am sorry for this. I have only good will toward both of you,
ja
?
I hope you will still consider me a friend even if we cannot visit as such.”

Frank looked up at him with what Jan felt was hope but
quickly tore his eyes away. Ernst answered, his voice flat, “We are to unload
her things and return immediately.”