A Hidden Truth (26 page)

Once inside the barn, I wiped my damp cheeks with the back of my hand and waited for my eyes to adjust to the dim light before I went to seek out Karlina. She would be pleased to hear that I had been straightforward with Berndt. When I didn't hear any noise, I called out to her. After waiting a few moments and not hearing a reply, I started through the barn while continuing to call her name.

I'd gone halfway through when I stood still and listened. It was then I heard her. A soft, low groan from near where I stood. I peeked around the barn pole and caught sight of her. “Karlina! What's wrong?” She lay motionless on the floor and moaned my name.

I kneeled beside her, and it took only a quick look to see she was ill. Heat radiated from her body like a cast-iron cookstove. She coughed and rolled to her side, her eyes glazed with fever. I needed to get her back to the house, but she couldn't walk—and I couldn't carry her.

“I've got to go get help. I'll be back.” I hesitated. “Do you hear me, Karlina? I'll be back to get you.”

She whimpered, but I couldn't wait any longer. I raced to the door and had cleared the entrance when I saw Berndt. Head bowed low and shoulders slumped, he was walking toward the village, just now returning from the pond.

“Berndt!” I screamed as loud as I could. “Come help me! Karlina is ill.”

He looked in my direction but didn't change course. Instead, he stood there staring at me.

I waved my arms overhead. “Berndt! Come and help Karlina.”

My words finally seemed to register, and he loped toward me. “What is wrong?”

“In the barn. Karlina is very sick. Can you carry her back to the house?”

“Ja, of course I can.”

I ran ahead of him and returned to where Karlina lay in the straw. I knelt down on one knee and brushed her damp hair from her forehead. “Berndt is going to carry you back to the house, Karlina.” I turned my attention to Berndt. “Should I run ahead and tell Cousin Louise, or should I go to Main for the doctor?”

Berndt leaned down and carefully lifted Karlina into his arms. She moaned and her head fell back against his shoulder. “Go first to your cousin. The doctor may not be necessary. Let her decide.” He settled Karlina in his arms and strode toward the doors. “Go on now. I will be fine.”

The wind whipped at my coat, and I yanked it tight to my body. I silently prayed that God would heal Karlina. What if she'd contracted influenza? What if she should die? My mind raced as I ran toward home. If Karlina died, it would be my fault. I was the one who had taken her to the Sedlacek house. She hadn't wanted to go, but I'd finally persuaded her. If anyone was going to be ill, it should be me, not Karlina. “Please, Lord, don't let her die.”

My feet clattered along the wooden sidewalk and up the porch steps. I pushed down on the metal door latch and flung open the door. “Cousin Louise!” All of the sisters had gone home for a few hours. No one was downstairs. I raced up the first few steps. My legs ached and I grabbed the banister for support. “Cousin Louise, are you up there?”

“Ja, I am changing the beds. I am in Anton's room.”

I continued up the steps. “Berndt is carrying Karlina to the house. She's very sick. Do you want me to go to Main for the doctor?”

She met me in the hall, her eyes clear and her demeanor calm. “Nein. First you must tell me what is wrong with her.”

I rattled off the symptoms I had observed. “I think she has influenza.”

“Why would you think that? There has been no word of influenza in the colonies. We would have received word if there was an outbreak of some sort.” She patted my cheek. “I'm sure it's because of your Mutter, but every little ailment will not end up as influenza.”

Her words were brave, but I detected a glimmer of worry in her eyes. Was she thinking about her sons who had died of pneumonia and fearful she might lose her daughter? My stomach squeezed into a knot. In my haste to help the Sedlacek family, I had placed Karlina and her family in jeopardy.

This wasn't the time to tell Cousin Louise about the Sedlacek family, but once she'd seen Karlina and decided whether to call the doctor, I would have to tell her. There would be consequences for my behavior. And I deserved whatever the elders would mete out.

Cousin Louise gestured toward Anton's room. “Please finish dusting in Anton's room. I will go downstairs and wait for Karlina. Cousin George is asleep in our bedroom. He needs his rest, so we will try to avoid waking him.” I heard Cousin Louise's retreating footsteps in the hallway. She was halfway down the steps when she called, “And please turn down Karlina's bedcovers.”

“I'll do it right now.” Doing my best to be quiet, I hurried down the narrow hall and pulled back the covers with the care of a mother preparing a perfect space for her newborn. The dusting could wait. Karlina's needs must come first. My fear and guilt mixed together and formed a hard knot that now resided in the pit of my stomach. Nothing I did for Karlina would erase the fact that I was the one who had influenced her to go to the Sedlacek farm. I was the reason she now suffered with some unknown illness—probably influenza. I bit back my tears. Losing control of my emotions would not help. If I was going to be of any help, I must keep my wits about me.

As the sound of Berndt's voice drifted up the stairs, I closed the distance between the bedroom and the top of the stairs in short order. I peered over the railing. Berndt still held Karlina in his arms. My heart ached at the sight of her head lolling against his chest. Berndt took the steps at a careful pace. Cousin Louise followed close on his heels with several towels draped over her arm and a basin of water balanced in her hands.

I motioned for Berndt to follow me. “Be careful when you place her on the bed.”

Once he'd lowered her onto the bed, he exhaled a whoosh of air and massaged his upper arms. “That is a longer walk than I remembered.”

Cousin Louise placed the basin on a small table. “That is because you didn't have to carry someone the entire distance until today. Thank you, Berndt. Your help has aided a great deal toward Karlina's recovery.”

I glanced at Berndt. He nodded and backed from the room. “I am pleased I could help. I will be praying for Sister Karlina.” He hesitated in the doorway. “You would like me to go and fetch Dr. Zimmer, Sister Louise?”

“If you would take a seat in the parlor until I have examined her a little further . . .”

I leaned over the end of the bed. “I can go if a doctor is needed. There's no need for Berndt to wait.”

Cousin Louise didn't turn away from Karlina. “Even in a weary state, Berndt can get to the doctor much faster than you, Dovie.” She motioned to Karlina's feet. “You can take off her shoes.”

I didn't argue about going for the doctor. Instead, I deftly removed Karlina's shoes and awaited the older woman's next instruction. She wrung out towels and placed them on Karlina's forehead. As Cousin Louise ministered to her daughter, memories of caring for the Sedlacek women flashed through my mind.

A short time later Karlina coughed—a raspy, strangled sound from deep in her chest. Cousin Louise turned to me. “Ask Berndt to go for Dr. Zimmer.” I was certain I saw fear lurking behind the tears that now rimmed her eyes.

Once advised the doctor was needed, Berndt didn't hesitate. He jumped up from the chair and flew down the stairs. He was out the door before I could catch my breath. Through it all, Cousin George continued to sleep. Cousin Louise said it was a blessing, for he would pace and worry if he knew what was happening a few doors away. I carried fresh water to Karlina's bedside and was relieved when Dr. Zimmer and Berndt finally returned.

I hovered near Karlina's bedside while the doctor examined her. Cousin Louise advised him of the few changes since Berndt had carried her upstairs. She mentioned the cool compresses she had used and the deep cough. He pressed his stethoscope to Karlina's chest and, with Cousin Louise's help, rolled her to one side so he could listen to her back.

“It could be pneumonia, it could be influenza, or it could be a bad case of catarrh. Hard to know for sure, but I'm going to rule out influenza unless I see some other symptoms. I'll have the pharmacist in Main prepare her medicine. Under your care, I'm certain she'll be out of bed in no time, Sister Louise.”

I stepped near the side of the bed. “But if she has influenza, would her treatment be different? Would you order different medicines for her?”

The doctor turned, peered over his eyeglasses, and looked down his nose at me. “I do not believe we've met.” Some of the kindness drained from his voice as he spoke to me.

“I'm Dovie Cates. A relative of the family.” I leaned to one side, hoping to gain a look at Cousin Louise, but the doctor blocked my view.

“I see. And why are you concerned about the treatment of influenza?”

Cousin Louise immediately entered the conversation and explained that my mother's death had occurred due to influenza. The doctor gave me a sympathetic look and patted my arm. “We haven't had any influenza in the colonies for several years. There is no need to borrow trouble. With the two of you caring for Sister Karlina, I'm sure she will have a speedy recovery.”

I forced a smile, uncertain if I should confide in Dr. Zimmer or wait and speak to Cousin Louise alone. By the time I had found the nerve to speak with him, the doctor was on his way downstairs. I called to him, but Cousin Louise shook her head and placed her index finger against her lips. She made my decision for me.

CHAPTER 26

Although I wanted to talk to Cousin Louise and clear my conscience, I didn't find an opportunity until the dishes had been washed after the evening meal. Drawing near as she hung a dish towel to dry, I gathered my courage. “I need to speak with you, Cousin Louise. It is important.”

The older woman's shoulders sagged, but she poured a cup of coffee and followed me into the dining room. After settling on one of the long wooden benches, she stared at me. There was a hint of impatience in her eyes, a look that said she had no time to waste. I swallowed hard and folded my hands atop the table, not sure where to begin.

She swallowed a sip of coffee and gestured for me to speak. “What is it you need to tell me, Dovie?”

“My fear that Karlina may have influenza has nothing to do with my mother's illness. Karlina and I went to the Sedlacek farm to take medicine to them. I think Sophia and maybe some of the other family members may have had influenza.”

“You are saying Karlina has been out of the village and has been around people with influenza?” Cousin Louise leaned toward me with her face wrinkled into a frown and a shimmer of disbelief in her eyes. “Tell me everything, because this is hard for me to believe.”

I told her how I had been at the pond alone when Jakub arrived and pleaded with me to come to his home because his family was ill. Her complexion paled as I disclosed all that had happened.

“It is all my fault. Karlina didn't want to go, but I begged her. I didn't know how to help them. And now she has fallen ill, and it is because of me.” Before I finished the story, I had worked myself into a tearful frenzy that I couldn't control.

Cousin Louise tenderly clasped my arm as I gasped for a breath of air. “All this sobbing will not help. Neither of us will be any gut to Karlina if we do not remain calm.”

I sniffled and pulled a handkerchief from my pocket. “I know I've done a terrible thing, and I beg you to forgive me. I'll do whatever you ask, but I know nothing I can ever do will set things aright.”

“So now the Sedlacek family has recovered from their illness, ja?” Instead of looking at me, Cousin Louise stared at her folded hands.

I nodded. “When Jakub's family returned to health, he came to the barn and told Karlina.”

Her lips drooped into a frown. “How did you get the medicine?”

“I asked Karlina to take it from the cabinet.”

The silence that followed was worse than a shouted reprimand. Finally Cousin Louise closed her eyes and nodded. “Well, it seems you both played an equal part in this. You and Karlina knew you were going against the rules. While I would not expect you to abide by the rules in all circumstances, I am surprised at Karlina's decision.”

Cousin Louise rested her forehead in the palm of her hand before she slowly lifted her head and met my gaze. “I understand you were trying to help people in need, and that is gut. But instead of taking the matter into your own hands or going to Karlina, you should have come to me or Cousin George and asked for help. For several years, Jakub has helped with the shearing. I am sure he has a gut family. We would have provided help to them—but not by sending two single women to their home.”

“I told him Dr. Zimmer would come, but his father didn't want a doctor.”

She held up her hand. “There is no need to go on with this now. It changes nothing. What is done is done, and the elders will decide what should happen. I will speak to Cousin George, and he can speak to the elders and seek their opinion.”

My hands trembled. I had hoped Cousin Louise might agree to forgo speaking to Cousin George or the elders. “Do you think they will tell me to leave the village?”

“I do not know what they will ask of you or Karlina, but you should be prepared to take your punishment without argument.” She looked deep into my eyes. “Is that everything? You have left nothing out? There will be no more surprises?”

Should I tell her what I knew, or at least suspected, about Berndt? It would likely be better to go ahead and tell her now. Who could say if I would have another opportunity? With Karlina ill and Cousin George sure to go to the elders very soon, I might be on a train to Texas and never have resolution about my mother's past.

I inhaled a deep breath. “There is one more thing I should tell you.”

Cousin Louise sighed. “I hope it is gut news and not something else that will cause me more gray hairs.”

I peeked at her from beneath my thick eyelashes and shrugged. “I wanted to tell you that I read some of the letters you left out in your bedroom. The ones my mother wrote to you.”

“Ja, I knew you did. They had been moved from where I left them. And so? What is it you want to tell me? Something about those letters of your mother's or something about you and Berndt? If you want to tell me you have been meeting him at the pond, I already know.”

Heat climbed up my neck. I wanted to ask how she knew, but it was more important that I tell her what I'd learned about my mother. “It is about the letters and Berndt.”

Cousin Louise gestured for me to continue.

“I know that Berndt is my half brother.”

“You know what?” Cousin Louise stared at me as though I'd lost my senses. “What would make you believe such a thing?”

Cousin Louise wasn't going to make this easy. I had hoped she would simply tell me that I was correct and then answer the rest of my questions. But that would not be. She was going to test me before she revealed anything.

I spouted everything I had learned: “I read about the baby and the man she referred to as E in her letters. I read that she loved him and how much she regretted leaving the baby with his parents. And when Sister Elsa spoke of my mother being in love with someone, you interrupted her before she could finish speaking, but I heard her say Brother Er—. At first, I thought she was talking about Brother Erich, the schoolteacher.”

A smile tipped one corner of Cousin Louise's lips. “That old man? He was as old as her Opa.”

“That is what I discovered. Once I knew it wasn't the schoolteacher, I continued to look for anyone named Erich. It didn't take long to find out that Berndt's father was the man my mother loved. They had a baby, and I think my Oma and Opa left the colonies with her because they were ashamed. I think that, for all of her life, my mother continued to love Berndt's father, and that is why she never talked about her life here. She was afraid that if she spoke of the past, she might slip and tell more than she should.” I inhaled a deep breath. “And I also think that is why you and Berndt's father have worked so hard to keep us apart. You knew if we fell in love, you would have to tell us the truth—that we are related.”

Cousin Louise shook her head. “You think you have all the answers, but you have none that are correct. You have conceived a story that is beyond any imagination except your own.”

I wasn't surprised by her reaction. Though I had hoped she would simply tell me I'd unveiled the truth, I had expected the long-held secrets would be protected. “If what I have said is no more than a fairy tale, please tell me the truth, Cousin Louise. That is what I have been seeking since the day I arrived.”

“And from the day you arrived, I have told you there was no deep secret to your mother's leaving the village. Yes, she loved Erich Lehmann, but they did not have a child. Your Mutter never did anything to cause her parents embarrassment or shame. My heart is heavy that you should think so little—”

“I do not think little of her, but it was—”

Cousin Louise waved me to silence. “I will say this to you only one time, so you listen very carefully.” She touched her finger to her ear. “The baby you read about in that letter was not Berndt. That little boy was the son of your Opa's cousin Johann. His wife died in childbirth, so your Oma and Mutter cared for the infant. Your Mutter became very attached to the baby, and it was very difficult for her to leave him. She wanted to stay in East because she loved Erich and also because of the baby, Wilhelm, but your Oma and Opa insisted that she leave with them.”

I was trying hard to comprehend what Cousin Louise had said. “I never heard my Mutter speak of any relatives named Johann or Wilhelm. Do they still live in the colonies?”

She shook her head. “They lived in East until Wilhelm was three and then they moved to Homestead, where Johann worked in the warehouse where they stock our woolen and other goods for shipment by railroad. After they had lived in Homestead for about five or six years, the two of them left.”

“For where?”

“One of the elders in Homestead told Cousin George that Johann met some men who came to the warehouse to purchase goods. They told him he could have a gut life on the outside. I never heard where they went, but Johann took Wilhelm, and no one has heard from them since. At least not that I know of.”

“So Berndt is not my half brother?”

She chuckled. “No. Berndt is not your half brother. Sister Anna and Brother Erich are Berndt's parents.”

“Then why did you and Brother Erich work so hard to keep us apart?”

“Ach!” Cousin Louise waved a dismissive gesture. “Because we did not want the two of you to suffer the way your Mutter and Erich suffered when her family left the colonies. His heart was broken and so was hers. It took them both a long time before they healed.”

“Why did my Oma and Opa leave here? And if my mother loved Erich, why couldn't she refuse to go with them, or come back later and marry him?”

Cousin Louise sighed. “You are so full of questions.” She hesitated a moment. “Did you not find the answers in your Mutter's letters?”

Shame washed over me while I shook my head. “I did not have time to read all of them.”

“I see. Well, I will answer the best I can, but I am not sure it is the best thing for you. I told you before that sometimes the past is best left behind. Some of what I tell you may cause disappointment and pain, but if you are determined . . .”

There was no doubt she wanted me to tell her I was satisfied to leave the past buried. But I wasn't. No matter how it would change my feelings, I wanted to hear everything. I folded my hands and nodded for her to continue.

She sighed. “Your Opa was a clockmaker here in East—a very fine clockmaker. The beautiful clock in our parlor was made by him. Did you know that?”

“No, but it is quite lovely.” When I first arrived, I had noticed the intricately carved clock, but I'd had no idea my Opa had made it. My grandparents had died before I was born, and like everything else in her past, my mother had seldom mentioned them. My questions appeared to pain her, and I had ceased asking.

“Your Oma and your Mutter enjoyed living in the colonies, but your Opa always had a desire to live in the outside world. He was never content, and I think that is why he took matters into his own hands.” She inhaled a deep breath. “I am telling you everything I know, so there is no need to ask questions once I finish. There will be nothing more I can tell you.”

I nodded and scooted to the edge of my chair, eager to hear what else she would reveal.

“While they were living here in East, your Opa became friends with a farmer who lived nearby. The farmer and your Opa had an arrangement between them.”

“What kind of arrangement?”

“For some of the clocks he made. Your Opa gave several clocks to the farmer, who made arrangements to sell them, and your Opa received money for the clocks.”

“And he kept the money?”

“Ja. Somehow the elders discovered what he had done.”

I couldn't believe my ears. My grandfather had kept money that didn't belong to him. Little wonder my mother hadn't told me any of this. “And they made him leave?”

“Nein. The Grossebruderrat asked him to repent. They decided if he would ask forgiveness, he would be banned from church for one year and all would be forgiven. He was never asked to leave the colonies.”

“But he didn't want to do that?”