Love Finds You in Homestead, Iowa

by Melanie Dobson

  “When?” she asked.

  He blinked several times. Surely he’d taken a bath in the past few weeks—but he couldn’t remember exactly when. It hadn’t seemed important to him before.

  Jacob looked at the doctor. “My daughter is a smart girl.”

  “Ja, that she is.”

  He brushed off his sleeves as sunlight streaked across the room. “And if she says I need a bath—”

  “Can you swim?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The doctor folded his fingers together and lowered his voice. “Tonight, after everyone has turned in for the night, you can walk down to the river and wash up.”

  Cassie tapped the doctor’s shoulder. “I need a bath too!”

  Jacob reached over and ruffled her hair, so glad to see her alert again. “You can’t come this time, sweetheart.”

  Her smile tumbled. “Next time?”

  He nudged her chin. “I sure hope so.”

  “You’ll need clean clothes too,” Liesel said.

  “I have a change of clothes in my satchel.”

  Liesel tilted her head. “Are they clean?’

  He sighed. The women were ganging up on him. “Of course they’re clean.”

  Liesel flicked his sleeve. “Then I’ll stitch your initials in these, and we’ll send them off to the laundry after we’re released from quarantine.”

  He wouldn’t tell the women, but it would feel good to clean up and shave and put on some clean clothes. Perhaps a good bath would clean out some of the fog that blurred his brain. Almost like a new start for Cassie and him. With new clarity, he could chart out a course for their future.

  The doctor left the room with a tip of his black hat. Outside the bedroom door was a tray filled with a pot of coffee, a slab of butter, buckwheat cakes, toast, and strawberry jam. Jacob’s stomach rumbled.

  Lifting the tray from the floor, he handed it to Liesel, and she carried it to the little table beside Cassie’s bed. She made a small plate for Cassie, and his daughter slipped her feet over the edge of the bed and reached for a piece of toast with jam.

  It was a new start indeed.

  Frank Powell didn’t have two thousand dollars on hand to close the Honorable Charlie Caldwell’s account, nor did he know where Caldwell’s money went, but he couldn’t admit that to the man pacing in front of his desk. Caldwell was a bigwig judge in Chicago, and if he discovered that Second National had lost his money, there would be lawsuits and bad publicity and yet another run on the bank’s dwindling resources. Frank couldn’t afford any of it.

  He glanced back down at the ledger in front of him as if the numbers might have evolved since the last time he’d looked, but Caldwell’s record clearly showed that the man had taken out more than a thousand of the two thousand he’d entrusted to the bank—most of it in the winter and spring in the amounts of fifty and one hundred dollars.

  Caldwell leaned across his desk, and Frank flinched.

  “I never took out that money, Frank. Not even during the panic last summer. I sat tight, trusting you to care for it.”

  “I did care for it.”

  “Then where did my money go?”

  Frank shook his head. Stanley had questioned him, and now Caldwell was asking questions as well. He was an honest banker, had always been an honest banker, and he watched over his customers’ savings with more vigilance than a warden watched his prisoners. Never once had he doubted he could keep the money safe…until now.

  “It’s not gone, Caldwell. One of the clerks must have recorded the transactions under the wrong name. Someone else must have taken out their money.”

  “How many Charlie Caldwells do you have at this bank?”

  “Only you, my friend, but there are plenty of other Charlies in the books. One of the clerks mixed it up.” He delivered the words with much more confidence than he felt. It was odd that his clerks would have erred on the record over and over again, but he wasn’t prepared to accuse Caldwell of lying either.

  His friend crossed his arms and leaned toward the desk again. He wasn’t a tall man, but there wasn’t a more powerful man among his clientele. Right then, Frank wanted to strangle whoever made the errors, if it had been an error.

  Everyone knew Caldwell dabbled in a bit of gambling—horseracing and that sort of nonsense—but neither Caldwell’s gambling nor Frank’s investing had paid off in the past year.

  Caldwell rapped on the desk. “Times are hard, Frank.”

  He nodded. “I know it.”

  “I need that money.”

  “I’ll find out what happened to it.”

  Caldwell stepped back toward the door, but he kept his eyes on Frank. “I’ll be back on Friday.”

  Frank made a notation on the paper in front of him, like the problem could be easily resolved. “It may take me a few more days, Charlie.”

  “Monday, then.”

  He swallowed. “Monday.”

  The door slammed shut, and Frank sunk back into his chair. He’d spent his life working in his father’s bank, and if he weren’t careful, his life’s work would dissolve overnight.

  He closed the ledger with Caldwell’s name and opened up another book, skimming the surnames from F through K. Each transaction was scribbled in the lines. The date, amount, initials of the teller, and sometimes even the reason the customer was depositing or withdrawing their money. Frank was strict about the details and expected his clerks to be strict in their recordings, as well. Even in the midst of the panic last summer, he expected their records to be impeccable, and they knew it.

  He raked his stubby fingers through what remained of his graying hair and then twisted the diamond ring on his right hand before he turned back to Caldwell’s record and ran his fingers along the scribbled notes and numbers in the ledger. It would be much simpler if only one clerk had recorded the withdrawals, but there were initials from all three employees—Orwin and the two clerks he’d had to let go. He could quiz Orwin to see if he remembered Caldwell taking out the cash, but it wasn’t like he could contact the clerks he’d released from his employ and ask about the missing money. They had no motivation to explain anything to him. There had to be another way.

  He pushed the ledgers to the side of his desk, clearing a space in front of him. Then he leaned over, slipped a lined piece of paper out of a drawer, and scribbled the names and last-known addresses of Bradford Pendleton and Jacob Hirsch.

  “Orwin!” he hollered. His clerk scrambled into his office with a pencil and paper in his hand. He seated himself in one of the polished chairs on the other side of the desk and crossed his legs. Very few understood the rush of the financial world, but Orwin was supposed to understand it. Banking was in his blood.

  Orwin leaned toward the open ledgers spread across Frank’s desk. “Is something wrong?”

  Frank shook his head. He’d wait to ask Orwin about Caldwell’s missing money. If they had another run on the bank, he’d never be able to appease the crowds this time. He would hold onto as much money as he could until he discovered the missing funds, and even then, he wouldn’t have to let anyone know what had happened to the money.

  He slid the piece of paper across the desk. “I have an assignment for you.”

  Orwin glanced down at the paper, but he didn’t pick it up. “Anything you need.”

  “It’s a small task, really.”

  Orwin’s face fell slightly.

  Frank tapped the list, and Orwin picked it up and glanced at it.

  “I need you to find out where Bradford Pendleton and Jacob Hirsch are now.”

  Orwin’s eyes narrowed behind his spectacles. “Where they are now?” he queried.

  “I’m…,” Frank started. “I’ve been concerned about them and want to know how they are faring after the loss of their jobs.”

  Orwin shrugged. “So I will send them each a letter.”

  “I was thinking more of a visit.”

  Orwin glanced down at the list again. “You want me to knock on their doors?�
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  He shook his head. “I don’t want them to know I’m checking up on them.”

  “So you’d rather I knock on their neighbor’s doors…?”

  “Precisely.”

  “I’d be glad to check up on them but”—Orwin placed both feet on the floor—“are there any specific questions I should be asking?”

  “Oh, no.” Frank tried to make his tone sound casual. “I’d just like to know if they’re doing well or if they’re struggling to find work.”

  “Are you…” Orwin stuttered. “Are you going to offer them new positions?”

  “No…I just want to know if I can help.”

  “You can’t feel guilty about this. You had to let them go.”

  “I know, Orwin, but I still have a few regrets.”

  Orwin folded the list twice and dropped it into his pocket. “I’ll find them for you.”

  Frank nodded. “Orwin…”

  “Yes?”

  “Please remember to do this discreetly.”

  The man nudged his glasses back up his nose. “Of course.”

  So now enter into the chamber of grace! Here there is rest for all who are weary and joy for all who suffer.

  Johann Friedrich Rock, 1725

  Chapter Nine

  Liesel lit the kerosene lantern on the nightstand and quietly closed the door that connected her bedroom to the sitting room. Her fingers grazed the lock above the doorknob, but she didn’t turn it. Her father would tell her to lock it, but she’d never once locked the door in her room above the kitchen house or in her bedroom in Main Amana. In spite of what her father said, she knew she could trust Jacob Hirsch.

  Reaching behind her neck, she peeled the hairnet off her hair, then took off her apron, hung it on a hook over the door, and began to unbutton her long dress.

  While Jacob rested today, she and Cassie played for hours in the sitting room. When the doctor returned this afternoon, he carried a beautiful bisque doll with him, a gift from Greta’s oldest daughter. The doll had a delicate porcelain face with rosy cheeks and curly black hair and looked very much like the doll that Liesel played with as a child. Cassie snuggled the toy to her chest as if it was a real baby, and Liesel understood. She’d spent many a night cradling her own baby doll.

  Beside her dresser, Liesel washed her arms and face with the water waiting in a basin. Even though she’d teased Jacob about taking a bath, she needed one just as badly as he did. She couldn’t go down to the river for her bath, though. The middle of the river was over her head and, like most of the colonists, she’d never learned how to swim. There was little time for recreation in the Amanas, and no swim apparel was appropriate for the women anyway. But even if she were permitted to swim, she would be too scared to go into the water.

  At least once a week, the Amana women turned the community laundry into a washroom so they could take turns bathing in the hot water. When the doctor released them from quarantine, both she and Cassie would take a hot bath.

  Fortunately, Mrs. Keller had delivered a clean dress for Liesel along with undergarments and her nightshirt so she would have fresh clothes to wear.

  Climbing under the covers, Liesel stretched out her toes as far as they would go. The breeze whisked the branch of a tree through her open window, and when she blew out her lantern, the glow of moonlight cast a silvery sheen over the walls. She pulled the covers up to her shoulders and breathed deeply, the sweet air refreshing her lungs.

  Thank God, Cassie was well again. Thank God, He brought them through the darkness and despair. Thank God, she could finally rest again.

  It was the first night in a week she’d slept in a bed, and it was a relief to stretch out on a mattress. She and Jacob were blessed—so very blessed—that they didn’t have to stay up all night again tending to Cassie, yet Liesel couldn’t help missing the companionship. Families across Homestead were resting together tonight, but she was alone.

  She closed her eyes, but sleep didn’t come.

  Today was one of the best days of her life. Not only was Cassie recovering, but Liesel couldn’t remember enjoying a day so much—at least not since she was a child herself, playing with her own friends and toys.

  Cassie was a delight, and she’d made Liesel giggle like she was a child again. And Liesel hadn’t cared a bit if Jacob or anyone in the house heard her laughter. That was the beauty of being around a child. No one cared if one acted childish.

  The Gartebaas—garden boss—often scolded her and Sophie for acting like children when they were planting and harvesting the gardens. They would manage to suppress their giggling for a while, but they’d get reprimanded again before long.

  The truth was, Liesel loved to play and laugh. Happiness was elusive, to be sure, but the gift of God’s joy strengthened her. And there was nothing more joyful to her than playing with a child.

  They had a Kinderschule in their community to care for the young children while their parents worked. After her fire incident in the kitchen, she had hoped the Elders would reassign her to the Kinderschule to care for these children, but two older women already worked there. There was no need for her in the school, but there was a great need in the gardens behind the kitchen house…so she was placed outside.

  She’d learned to enjoy working the dirt, growing things—and it was a delight to spend her days with Sophie—yet part of her still longed to spend her days in the Kinderschule.

  Liesel rolled over on the mattress, trying to clear her mind, but her thoughts wouldn’t rest. She couldn’t stop thinking about her day…her many days spent with Jacob and his daughter.

  Jacob was a blessed man to have a girl like Cassie, and Cassie was blessed to have a father who cared so much about her. His entire being had been focused on getting her well again, and Liesel couldn’t help but admire a man who was so dedicated to his child. He loved Cassie, and Liesel had been swept away in his love for his daughter.

  Still, it made her wonder again if there was a woman in Jacob’s life. Had his wife left him? Passed away? Or perhaps he never had a wife. She hoped there wasn’t a woman looking for him.

  Her eyes popped open, scolding herself for the thought. She should be hoping there was a woman in Jacob’s life. A woman who loved both him and his daughter. Anything else was vile. Wrong.

  She rolled over, trying to stop herself from wondering about Cassie’s mother, but she couldn’t seem to conquer the thoughts.

  It didn’t matter if Jacob was married or not anyway. She was an engaged woman herself, and the only reason she was here was to help Jacob until his daughter was well again. She had to focus her thoughts on helping Cassie, not on the private life of the girl’s father.

  Yet in spite of the circumstances, she was pleased to be able to assist Jacob these past few days. Their time together had been terribly hard, not anything like the lighthearted picnic she and Emil were supposed to have last May, yet she preferred her long hours working alongside Jacob to spending another leisurely afternoon with the man she was supposed to marry.

  She rolled over onto her left side and shut her eyes again.

  It didn’t matter that she enjoyed her time with Jacob. Her focus was on Cassie, and she would care for this dear child until she was well again. Then she would have to say good-bye.

  The train’s shrill whistle awakened Jacob. He bolted up in bed and squinted in the moonlight to read the time on the clock. Eight minutes past three. If he hurried, he could sneak down to the river and be back in the house before sunrise so no one in the village saw him.

  Creeping out of the bed, he placed his ear onto Cassie’s chest and listened, relieved once again to hear her calm breath. She was resting peacefully now, her fever gone along with the sore throat. Dr. Trachsel believed that the danger had passed, yet he couldn’t stop himself from checking on her.

  Stepping around Cassie’s bed, he propped open the door to the sitting room so Liesel could hear Cassie while he was away. He didn’t want to leave Cassie, not even for an hour, but Cassie had
said he needed a bath and the doctor had encouraged him to wash his leg. If Cassie called out, he had no doubt that Liesel would race to her side.

  He almost crossed the room to knock on Liesel’s door and remind her that he was leaving, but he didn’t want to frighten her. He’d let the women sleep, and when they woke up, he would be refreshed and clean.

  His gaze rested on Liesel’s door for a few seconds before he backed toward the hallway door. She was clearly an angel of God, sent to help Cassie when she needed it most, but it wasn’t fair of him to monopolize her time when she should be preparing for her marriage with Emil Hahn.

  Yet today, when he’d tried to give her the release she needed to go home, she’d insisted on staying with them. It was almost like she was running away from something as well.

  This afternoon, when Liesel and Cassie thought he was asleep, he’d listened to them laughing together through the walls. He wanted to open the door and go play with them, but he didn’t want to interrupt their fun. Cassie was getting better, and she’d found a devoted—and charming—playmate in Liesel Strauss.

  Still, even though Cassie was having fun, she was getting too attached to Liesel and it frightened him. And if he was gut honest with himself, he was getting a little too attached as well. It was time for Liesel to go home and definitely time for Cassie and him to move on.

  When the quarantine was lifted, he would insist that Liesel leave right away—and he would need to leave as well, to find work to pay the doctor’s bill and provide a living.

  Draping his clean shirt and pants over one arm, he struck a match and lit the kerosene lantern hanging by the door. Then he bundled his razor and a bar of lye soap into a towel and snuck down the back stairs of the doctor’s house so he wouldn’t startle either Mrs. Trachsel or their two children.

  The step under his foot creaked, and he held his breath. The house was silent, so he tested the next step and continued down the stairs, slipping out the back door.

  The street was as quiet as the house. A few animals rustled in the barnyard, but none of them seemed to be startled by his presence. He hiked past the barn and over the train tracks as Liesel had instructed. Yellow light from the lantern washed over his feet and illuminated the tall grass in front of him. His leg still ached a bit, but the tight bandage circling his shin and calf reduced the pain.