A Hidden Truth (11 page)

I nodded. “Yes, I think that's a good idea.” I hesitated a moment and then grasped her hand. “And one day soon I hope you will be willing to share more about my mother.”

I stood and hurried from the room before she could deny my request.

Once inside the bedroom, I opened the envelope. My father's letter spoke of his new position and that he'd been spending long hours at work. He didn't reveal if that was by choice or if the extra hours were required by the company, but I guessed it was more by his choice. He said he missed me, but he didn't sound as lonely as I'd expected—likely because he'd been filling his days with work so he couldn't think about missing Mother. He'd also included additional money for any necessities I might need. I continued reading and then turned the final page, where he had added a postscript.

You will recall that I agreed to post your second letter to Louise and George. However, upon arriving in Texas, I discovered it in the jacket pocket of my blue suit. Please accept my apology, and please tell Louise and George that I beg their forgiveness for my oversight.

The added brief notation solved the mystery of my letter to Cousin Louise, but I wasn't certain the missing letter had been an oversight.

I glanced up when Karlina poked her head around the bedroom doorway. “Are you done? Mutter said I shouldn't bother you if you were still reading your letter.”

Smiling, I waved her forward. “Yes, I'm finished.”

“I know I am being selfish, but I hope your Vater did not say he wants you to come to Texas.” Her blue eyes were a near match for the walls in the Amana houses and the meeting hall. When I'd commented on the sameness of the color, Karlina told me all walls were painted with whitewash that was lightly tinted with blue pigment. “It is the only color we use. When we all have the same thing, there is no jealousy.” She'd made the statement with authority, and I had no reason to doubt her, for I'd quickly learned that equality was of great importance to the colonists.

I folded the letter and tucked it into the envelope. “My father says that he has not yet found a suitable place for us to live. It seems he has been quite busy working long hours, but there is a lady who has agreed to help him locate a small house. There is no assurance if or when he might find such a place, but I am hoping that I will be here until spring.”

“You must stay until the lambs are born. It is the very best time of the year. Just wait and see—you will love East during the springtime.”

I didn't doubt Karlina's words, for I had already discovered much to love about East and the people who lived here. Within the confines of the small village I felt somehow connected to both the past and my future. A feeling I could not explain, but one that kindled a desire to remain among my mother's people.

CHAPTER 11

January 1893

Since the change in his delivery route, my time with Berndt had been brief. I missed his easy manner and our friendly chats. When he made the bread delivery on Christmas Eve morning, I had given him a small package with Christmas cookies we baked. They seemed a silly gift for a baker's son, but Karlina said he would like them. She had been correct. Berndt had appeared most pleased but also embarrassed because he had nothing to give me. I had laughed and told him I would take ice skating lessons in exchange, and he readily agreed.

Today I hoped he could make good on his gift. Yesterday Cousin Louise granted us permission to go ice skating at the pond this afternoon, and Karlina had already borrowed a pair of ice skates for me. While Karlina finished dressing, I hurried down the stairs and raced into the kitchen. If I wasn't downstairs when he arrived, Cousin Louise would meet the bread wagon, and I'd have no opportunity to invite Berndt to join us.

Cousin Louise looked up from the stove. “Why are you running? There is a problem?”

I came to an abrupt halt and straightened my shoulders. “No. I was afraid I would be late.”

“Late?” She rubbed my shoulder and smiled. “It is gut you want to help, Dovie, but you do not need to be the first one in the kitchen every morning. You are a visitor, and even though we encourage hard work in the villages, you should not be working more than those who live here.”

Outside, the clang of the bread wagon's bell reverberated in the frozen morning silence. My attention shifted toward the door. So did Cousin Louise's. I turned toward the pegs near the back door with my hand extended toward my coat. “I'll go and meet the wagon.”

Cousin Louise's blue eyes sparkled with an understanding glint. “So that is why you have been coming down here so early—you don't want to miss seeing Berndt.” She folded her arms across her waist and nodded. “Go on and get the bread, but remember that he does not have time for visiting.”

Not wanting to miss even a moment, I hurried outside and waited for Berndt, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might bounce out of my chest. I strained to see the familiar wave of his cap, for even on the coldest days he would yank it from his head and swing it in greeting. Dancing from foot to foot to keep warm, I smiled and waved in return as he approached.

“Guten Morgen, Dovie!” He pulled back on the reins and brought the horses to a stop. Clouds of vapor rose from the animals' nostrils, and though they shimmied as Berndt jumped down from the wagon, they didn't attempt to move. “It is gut to see you. What a bright smile on this cold morning.” He pulled his cap back onto his head.

I tried to control my excitement, but I could hardly keep from jumping up and down. “I have a surprise.”

Together we walked to the rear of the bread wagon. “And what is your surprise?”

“We are going ice skating today. Me, Karlina, and Anton. I hope you will come with us. Cousin Louise agreed Karlina and I can go.”

Instead of the excitement I'd expected, he frowned. “I think the ice could be weak at the pond. It might not be safe.”

I rubbed my arms. “It is very cold. I don't think Cousin Louise would give permission if she thought—”

“I am sure she would not, but Cousin Louise does not have a way to know if the ice is solid, does she? The weather was very cold, but then it turned warmer, and it has remained above freezing for many days during the last two weeks. Such changes in the weather can make for dangerous ice.” He placed his gloved hand on the wagon door. “Some years it is safe to skate in November. Other years the ice can be too thin in January or February.” He pushed down on the lever and opened the doors. “Besides, I cannot go with you today.”

My shoulders drooped. “But why? You said you would give me skating lessons.”

He leaned closer. “And I very much look forward to giving you those lessons. But not when there might be thin ice. And not when I must go and help cut timber after the noonday meal. Much help is needed to keep a gut supply throughout the winter. You should tell Anton that if he is not busy with the sheep, he should come and help us. The more men who help, the more wood for our fires, ja?”

I forced a smile and nodded. “I don't know if Anton can help. Cousin George may have work for him.”

If Anton agreed to cut lumber, Karlina, who had been doing her best to make Anton feel welcome in East, might decide we should wait to go skating. And that was the last thing I wanted. Besides, how much wood could be needed in one winter? If Berndt thought the ice wasn't thick enough for skating, the village shouldn't require as much wood, should it? And I'd seen the men going out into the timbers and returning with the large horse-drawn wagons filled with heavy uncut logs. Surely cutting more wood wasn't necessary today. They had the remainder of the winter to chop down trees.

Berndt withdrew a large bread-laden tray from the wagon. “I know there may be other work for him, but we can use his help if he is not needed otherwise. If he is able, he should meet us at the Fuchs' kitchen house after lunch. You will tell him, ja?”

I couldn't be certain what Anton would choose to do. After spending so much time with the sheep, he might enjoy working with the men. “I'll tell Karlina to speak to him when she goes down to the barn this morning.”

He grinned. “
Danke
. And once the freezing weather returns, I will take you skating. I promise.”

“I look forward to the day when you will keep your promise.” I lifted the tray from his arms. “But do not be surprised if I find time to go before then.”

His dark eyes clouded, but I turned and strode back to the kitchen before he could utter any more warnings. What I had hoped would be a sweet afternoon with Berndt had already turned sour.

Cousin Louise opened the door for me, and I placed the tray on the worktable. She drew near and quickly inspected the bread. “There is something I must say to you, Dovie.” Concern clouded her eyes as she met my gaze. “It is better that you think of Berndt as no more than an acquaintance—a fleeting friend. He is a nice young man, and I am afraid he may begin to think of you as more than a friend.” She inhaled a deep breath. “If he is interested in more than friendship, he will be deeply hurt when you depart for Texas.” She arched her brows. “It is not fair to give him hope for something that can never be. Do you understand?”

My jaw dropped. She thought I had been encouraging Berndt's attentions, acting in a flirtatious manner with no thought for the future. No consideration of how my actions might affect both him and me. She obviously didn't realize that Berndt had been the one who'd initiated our friendship. I had merely responded to his kindness. Granted, I now enjoyed his company more than that of anyone other than Karlina, but I hadn't been flirtatious—not in the least. Of late, I had given consideration to my future both in Amana and in Texas, but those thoughts had not included Berndt. After all, we didn't know each other very well, so why would she make such comments?

As Cousin Louise continued her warning, what had happened suddenly became clear. “You told his father to change the bread route,” I whispered.

“Ja, I did. I could see in Berndt's eyes that he was already caring too much for you. What I did was not to hurt you or to hurt him, Dovie. It was to save both of you from disappointment and pain.” She reached out and put her arm around my shoulder. “Your Vater left you in my protection, and I must do all that I can to make sure nothing bad will happen to you while you are with us.” She released my shoulder. “Now, we must get busy before we fall behind with our work. The other women will soon be here.”

There was no need to say anything. I didn't doubt her good intentions, or the fact that she wanted to protect me. But I was old enough to protect myself—and so was Berndt. Was it so terrible to want to enjoy the company of another person?

The clanging of pots and pans drew me from my thoughts, and I quietly set about my breakfast duties. I fried sausages, peeled potatoes, and sliced bread. I filled dishes with strawberry preserves and rhubarb jam, and I fetched coffee when needed. Yet throughout the remainder of the morning, I continued to dwell upon Cousin Louise's remarks.

“Why so quiet this morning?” Sister Marta stood beside me rolling dumplings that would be dropped into the beef broth for the noonday soup. “Other than a greeting when we arrived, you have said nothing to any of us. Are you not feeling well?”

I forced a feeble smile. “I am fine.”

“I think you are missing your Mutter. It is normal to be sad after a death, but you must remember that your Mutter would want you to be happy and to serve Christ with a joyful heart.” She balanced another dumpling on the growing pile.

“I'm sure you're right, Sister Marta.” She finished rolling the last of the mixture and carried the large bowl to the stove. Her gesture was kind, but I didn't want to hear that I should serve Christ with a joyful heart. I wanted to hear that Berndt could go ice skating with me. Ugly as it would seem to Sister Marta, that was the truth.

It wasn't until the bell rang to announce the noonday meal that I realized I'd forgotten to tell Karlina or Anton about the wood cutting. I hurried to fill the remaining serving bowls while watching for Karlina. Moments later, the back door burst open, and Karlina removed her cape and hurried toward me, a smile splitting her face.

“Anton is going with us. He was most pleased for the invitation.” She rubbed her hands together and held them close to the stove. “I think he is beginning to like it here.”

“I don't know why you worry about his happiness so much, Karlina. Are you beginning to care for him?” I winked and gave her a little shove with my hip.

“Nein! A contented shepherd makes for contented sheep. That is why I want him to be happy living here.”

I giggled. “So it is only the sheep you worry about? I'm not so sure I believe you.”

“I will admit that I am liking him more than when he first arrived. He has softened a little and is trying to do what he is told. The sheep are more at ease with him now, so that is a gut sign.”

“Always the sheep,” I said.

“Karlina! You need to go to the dining room and quit interfering with our work.” Waving her wooden spoon, Sister Marta shooed Karlina toward the other room.

I grasped her arm as she stepped away from the stove. “There is something I forgot to tell you.”

“Karlina!” Wrinkles as deep as a rugged canyon creased Cousin Louise's face. “Listen to what Sister Marta has told you and go into the dining hall. You know better than to visit in the Küche during mealtime.”

“Tell me later,” Karlina whispered. Skirting between the women, she stopped only long enough to say, “I'm sorry, Mutter.”

This afternoon I was helping to keep the bowls and platters filled, so there would be no chance to tell her about Berndt until after the meal. I watched the table where Karlina was seated. The moment the bowl of potatoes emptied, I hurried to the table with a refill. The aroma of succulent roasted pork wafted toward me as I bent forward. My stomach growled and Karlina covered her mouth with a napkin to hide her laughter.

I leaned close to her ear. “We need to talk as soon as the after-meal prayer is recited.”

Sister Bertha cleared her throat with a noisy growl. When I glanced in her direction, the old sister shot me a look of extreme disapproval. I had kept my voice at a whisper, but even that annoyed her. I backed away from the table. With any luck, Sister Marta would agree to serve Sister Bertha's table for the remainder of the meal.

When I returned to the kitchen, Cousin Louise pointed to the worktable, where some of the other women sat eating. “I fixed you a plate. The junior girls will keep a watch if anything is needed.”

I sat beside Cousin Louise, thankful to be away from Sister Bertha's disapproving looks and thankful for the warm food that would stop the growl in my stomach. Because I was eager for the meal to end, it seemed to go on forever. Cousin Marta, determined to cheer me, did her best to draw me into the idle chatter around the worktable—something the women enjoyed in the kitchen but was frowned upon in the dining hall.