A Hidden Truth (18 page)

“She has never, not once, mentioned staying here for gut. I know that she is not eager to leave just yet, but her father is in Texas, and each day I think a letter will arrive telling her she should come and join him.” I placed my palm on my chest. “I do not want you to end up being hurt when she goes to Texas.”

He bobbed his head. “Ja, I know. My Vater has told me the same thing. He does not want me to spend my free time with her.”

“And my Mutter has warned Dovie, as well. I think they fear you both will suffer if you should care for each other as more than friends.”

He dug the toe of his boot into the straw. “It is too late for that, Karlina. How does a man stop himself from caring for someone? It is like trying to catch rain when there is a hole in the bucket. Impossible.”

Pain shone in his eyes, and my heart ached for him. “Then you must look to the Lord for help and guidance, for I have no answers for you.”

He unfurled his cap and pulled it onto his head. “Before we parted yesterday, Dovie asked me some questions about my family. Do you know why she would ask about them?”

I folded my arms and met his steady gaze. “What kind of questions?”

“She wanted to know if I had ever lived with my Oma and Opa.”

“And what did you tell her?”

“I told her ja, that we all lived in the same house until they died. Right after I told her is when she said she wanted to go home. When we got back to the house and I asked her if we could go skating on Saturday afternoon, she said she would be busy.”

My thoughts swirled like a blizzard in winter. I didn't know what to make of Dovie's questions to Berndt. I didn't know of any reason she couldn't go skating on Saturday. Worst of all, I didn't know how to help him.

“Will you talk to her, see if you can find out something for me? Tell her that I want to see her and I care for her?”

I swallowed hard. “I don't know if that's wise. Your Vater and my Mutter have both—”

“Please. Just speak to her, and if she says she doesn't want to spend time with me, I will not bother her again.”

Though I wasn't certain I was making the right decision, I agreed.

Berndt started for the door, stopped, and turned. “There was one more thing Dovie asked me.”

I took a step forward. “What was that?”

“She wanted to know where Sister Elsa lives.”

CHAPTER 18

March 1893
Dovie

More than a month had passed since I'd read the letters in Cousin Louise's room, but my questions still remained unanswered. Berndt had told me where Sister Elsa lived, but finding the time and opportunity to speak to her alone had proved a challenge.

A close watch on Sister Fuch's Küche finally reaped the benefit I had hoped for. Each afternoon I had waited out of sight as some of the sisters filed out of the Küche to go home for an hour or two after the noonday meal. Unfortunately, Sister Elsa hadn't been among those who departed to complete personal chores during the afternoon. Not until today.

I smiled at the sight of her, pleased I hadn't given up my vigil. Once she bid the other sisters good-bye and turned the corner, I hurried along the wooden sidewalk. Taking long strides, I soon closed the gap. “Guten Tag, Sister Elsa.” She stopped short and wheeled around on her heel. “I hope I didn't startle you.”

She clasped her lightweight cloak against the late March breeze. “Only a little.” She smiled and pointed toward the cloudless blue sky. “Is gut weather we have now. Springtime is my favorite, and it is approaching.”

The warmer weather had been welcomed by most everyone. Everyone except Jakub and his sister, Sophia. Over and over Jakub had lamented the end of ice skating season. I promised we could continue to meet at the pond, but I knew he'd be like the other men—busy preparing and planting the fields. Springtime afternoons would not grant the freedom winter had permitted, and I would see less of him.

“I like this time of year, too.”

Sister Elsa darted a glance to the empty space behind me. “You are alone?” Her voice bore a cautious tone.

“Yes. But just like you, this is my free time away from the Küche.” Hoping to set her at ease, I smiled and drew closer. “I wanted to ask you about something you said when I came to Sister Fuch's house when we were quilting.”

Her features settled in a deep frown. I didn't know if she was trying to recall the event or if my question annoyed her. When she didn't reply, I decided to continue. “You said my mother, Sister Barbara, was very unhappy when she left here. I think you said she was in love with someone named Erich? Is that right?”

“If you have questions about Sister Barbara, you should talk to Sister Louise. She is the best one to tell you anything you want to know.” She stopped in front of a sandstone house—the one I had learned was her residence. Turning toward me, she crossed her index and middle fingers. “Sister Louise and Sister Barbara were as close as blood sisters.” She bobbed her head. “Ja, Sister Louise can answer your questions better than I.”

I thanked her and turned toward home. There was no need to push for anything more. Sister Elsa's lips were sealed, and I had a strong suspicion Cousin Louise was the one who had sealed them.

A robin sang a warbling announcement of spring's anticipated arrival. All around me I saw evidence of new life. Barren trees had formed new buds, and before long, fruit trees would blossom and early blooming flowers would add a splash of color near the weathered wooden sidewalks. The hills and valleys had already sprouted a new, lush green carpet, where the sheep and cattle would graze. At any other time, the splendor of God's creation would have caused my heart to sing. But after Sister Elsa's unhelpful response, I found it impossible to take pleasure in my surroundings.

Whether I wanted to put the past behind me or not, Cousin Louise had determined to set my sights upon the future. Surely the conclusion I had drawn from the letter was correct. Otherwise Cousin Louise would not be working so hard to keep the truth from me. I returned to the Küche, my thoughts a mixture of determination and surrender. I didn't want to concede defeat, yet it appeared that any further efforts would fail. With the ability of a talented chess player, Cousin Louise had executed plans to block my every move.

“There you are! And just in time to help. I didn't know where you went.” Cousin Louise motioned for me to hang my jacket and come to the worktable. “Karlina said she thought you had gone down to the pond, but Sister Bertha said you'd gone in the other direction.”

Her unasked question hung between us like a morning fog. “It is a beautiful day so I went for a walk to see if any of the flowers had begun to bloom in the village.” Though my answer was not entirely true, I had been looking at the blooming foliage as I walked to Sister Fuch's Küche and on my way home, as well.

“I am glad you have returned. You remember I told you about dying Easter eggs for the children?”

I nodded. Last week Cousin Louise had explained that each Küchebaas dyed Easter eggs and baked Easter cookies for the children who ate in her Küche. These were special tasks that appeared to please Cousin Louise. She had explained that we would dye the eggs between church services on Good Friday because there was less meal preparation on that day.

“Tomorrow we will dye the eggs, but today we will boil them.” She glanced toward the window. “I hope the weather stays warm for Easter. It is so early this year that it would not surprise me to wake up to snow.” She shook her head as if the snow had already begun to fall.

I arched my brows. With such warm weather today and Easter arriving on Sunday, I doubted we would need to worry about snow, but I kept my opinion to myself. “Would you like me to go to the cellar and bring up the crocks?”

“Ja. And I will fill the pots so we can boil the eggs.” We had been saving the yellow and red onion skins since the first of the year. Cousin Louise said they provided good dye for the hard-boiled eggs, but we would also use some of the dye from the woolen mill for brighter colors. I had been looking forward to the event since I'd first learned of the unusual methods for preparing the Easter eggs. But egg dying wouldn't begin until tomorrow.

She pointed to the side table. “I have mixed up one batch of cookie dough. We can bake cookies this afternoon and dye eggs tomorrow when the other sisters are here to help.”

“I thought Karlina wanted to help with the cookies. Should I go down to the barn and tell her we're going to bake?”

“Nein. One of the ewes dropped triplets, and Karlina is needed at the barn.”

“Dropped?” I pictured babies falling from their mother's arms.

Cousin Louise looked at me as though I'd grown two heads. “Ja, dropped. Gave birth to triplets.”

I slapped my palm on my forehead. How silly of me. Of course! I hiked a shoulder. “I grew up in the city, Cousin Louise. I am not accustomed to farm language.”

“Well, it is time you learned, since the ewes will be
dropping
their lambs from now until the end of April. When we finish, you should go to the barn and see them.” She lifted a kettle of water onto the stove. “Lambing and shearing seasons are the times when visitors come to East. Everyone wants to come and see the lambs or watch the shearers' skills. And who can blame them? Those are gut times of the year. But right now we need to prepare the eggs.” She motioned to the door. “Hurry to the cellar and we'll get started.”

Boiling the eggs had been a fairly quick and simple process. Once we finished, Cousin Louise removed cookie cutters from one of the cabinets and spread them across the worktable. I traced my fingers over the familiar tin shapes. Large and small rabbits, a squirrel, chicken, lamb, a large sheep, cow, and a pig. “These are like the cookie cutters my Mother and I used to make our sugar cookies. I still have them. They're packed in one of the trunks my father sent to Texas.”

Cousin Louise broke off a fat chunk of dough, sifted a light dusting of flour on the worktable, and flattened the dough into a circle. “Ja, I am sure Barbara kept the cookie cutters that belonged to your Oma. She loved baking cookies.” Using her rolling pin, Cousin Louise manipulated the dough until it met her requirements for the perfect thickness. She rested a hand on her hip and surveyed the flattened mixture. “That looks gut. You can begin to cut the shapes and place them on the cookie sheets.”

Together, Cousin Louise and I rolled, cut, and baked the cookies, filling the air with a sweet vanilla scent. By the time the men arrived for their midafternoon respite, they were sniffing the air like children. “You should not be thinking it is cookies you will be eating,” Cousin Louise announced when they looked toward the kitchen with anticipation. “The Easter cookies are for the children, and there are no extras.” A chorus of groans could be heard from one end of the dining hall to the other. Cousin Louise laughed at their antics before she pointed to the tables. “You will have to settle for bread and jam with your coffee. We have much to accomplish before Easter.”

When Cousin Louise returned to the kitchen a short time later, she instructed me to place the cooled cookies in large crocks. “We will need the space to begin supper preparations. The other sisters will be returning soon.”

We had placed the last batch of cookies into a crock when Sister Bertha entered the kitchen. She glanced around the room, her attention settling on the crocks of cookies. “I would have stayed and helped with the Easter cookies, Sister Louise. Why didn't you tell me you were going to bake today? We usually bake the Easter cookies on Good Friday. Why the change this year?” Sister Bertha frowned at me, as though my visit had given rise to the irregularity.

Cousin Louise didn't look up from her work. Instead, she continued to shape and align several rows of sausage patties. “This is not the first time we have baked before Good Friday. We have more children in the Küche this year, and I needed to adjust the schedule so we would have enough time to dye all of the eggs on Good Friday. There would not be time enough to do both in one day.” Cousin Louise nodded toward the sink. “But I would be happy for some help washing the dirty bowls and baking pans.”

Sister Bertha promptly set to work scrubbing. “I hope the eggs will not be dyed when I arrive tomorrow. You know I enjoy the Easter preparations.”

Cousin Louise stepped closer to Sister Bertha. “I will make certain there are plenty of eggs for you to dye tomorrow after first church service.”

On Good Friday there would be three services—a fact I'd learned from Karlina. In order to give added thanks to the Lord, holidays in the colonies were celebrated with extra services. In addition, Cousin Louise had explained, Good Friday was a day of fasting, when only bread and water would be consumed. With no meals to prepare, there would be ample time for dying eggs.

Cousin Louise wiggled her index finger for me to draw close. “I am sure you are tired after all the baking, Dovie. You do not need to help with supper, but I would be pleased if you could sort the mail.” Her shoulders slumped. “If I do not have it sorted by supper, there will be complaints.”

No doubt she was even wearier than I. However, I could be gone from the kitchen, and she could not. “I will be happy to do so, Cousin Louise. And thank you for the opportunity to bake cookies with you.”

The afternoon had been pleasant. On several occasions I'd considered asking a question or two, but decided it wouldn't be fruitful. Besides, I was sure it would ruin this special time with Cousin Louise. I scattered the mail across the large oak table, and before I had a chance to place any of the envelopes in their proper cubbyholes, my gaze fell upon a letter bearing my father's distinctive script. The sight of his familiar handwriting was enough to send my heart into a rapid thump that rang in my ears. I longed to hear from him, but with each letter I worried he would expect me to leave the colonies and join him in Texas. I tucked the letter into my pocket and finished sorting the mail.

Once I'd completed the task, I stopped at the kitchen door. “I'm going upstairs until time for supper.”

Cousin Louise smiled and waved me toward the stairs. I moved in a slow and methodical fashion, my fingers touching the letter inside my pocket as I ascended the steps. Inside the bedroom Karlina and I shared, I opened the envelope and removed the contents. Once again my father had enclosed extra money for my needs. I had written and told him that Cousin Louise refused his previous monetary offering and there was no need to send additional funds. Did it give him some sort of comfort to send the money? Or perhaps he felt a moral obligation? Who could say? I would again attempt to give the money to Cousin Louise. Perhaps this time she would consider giving it to the elders.