Love Finds You in Homestead, Iowa

by Melanie Dobson

  A frog croaked in the darkness beside him, and something slithered in the grass.

  He stopped for a moment, his heart pounding. What was crawling beside him? He took a deep breath and told himself it was probably a garter snake, but still, he had no idea what was living in the grass around him or the forest ahead.

  He had no issue with walking the streets of Chicago at night—he knew what streets and what people to avoid. Most people were predictable, but he knew nothing about the backcountry of Iowa or the creatures who lived here, nor had he bothered to ask Liesel about wild animals or snakes. All he’d wanted to do was get outside and take a swim.

  He ducked under a branch and skirted the narrow path through the trees. The air was cool in the early morning hours, a balm before the start of another hot July day.

  He’d been so intent on traveling to Spokane that he never thought about taking an alternate trip—like a train ride to Iowa. Yet he was grateful that Etta had forced him out of the train at Homestead, grateful that Liesel had escorted him right into the doctor’s office. Without Dr. Trachsel and his miraculous serum…

  He didn’t want to think about what would have happened if Dr. Trachsel hadn’t given Cassie the antitoxin.

  A breeze rustled the leaves beside him as he pressed forward along the path.

  Not only had Cassie found a friend in Liesel, but the doctor had spent the day delivering new toys to their doorstep like he was Saint Nicholas. A doll, blocks, picture books, a baby buggy, colored pencils with paper…

  Even now, Jacob was amazed at all the gifts, given to a child the Amana people didn’t know, with no expectation that Cassie would be able to repay or even thank them. The strangers in Homestead were kinder to them than their friends had been in Chicago.

  He ducked under another tree, and his head brushed a branch.

  Squawk!

  A wing clipped Jacob’s head, and he almost dropped the lantern as he swatted the air with his free hand. Shouting in the darkness, he jogged ahead, hoping to deter the creature from swooping again. Did bats chase someone who’d angered them? He’d heard that a bird would chase you if it was mad, but he didn’t know. He’d never been chased by a bird or a bat.

  Steps ahead of the creature, he stopped and held up his light to illuminate the path behind him, but nothing seemed to be stalking him.

  His feet moved faster now as he hiked farther into the woods. The foliage was thick and imposing, and he tried not to think about what else could hide inside the shelter of the trees.

  Less than a mile outside Homestead, he stopped at the top of a riverbank. In the moonlight, the wide river meandered under the trees and wound toward a wooden bridge. The water was tame today, but it also seemed high, cresting three or four feet below the edge of the muddy bank.

  He unbuttoned his shirt, and the cool air swept across Jacob’s chest, chilling his skin. He started to toss his shirt on the ground but stopped when he saw something hidden in the grass. Reaching for the lantern, he lifted his light off the ground and shined it on the grass by his foot. At first he thought it was an ordinary stick beside him, but it wasn’t just a piece of wood. It was an oar.

  Alongside the oar there was a pile of leaves, and as he brushed away the leaves and branches, he discovered an overturned rowboat underneath…almost identical to the boat he used to keep hidden along the marshy banks of the Chicago River.

  His hand brushed over the flat bottom of the boat.

  Before Cassie was born, he and Katharine often took their rowboat to the river on Sunday afternoons, exploring the wetlands near Lake Michigan. Sometimes they’d row all the way out to the Great Lake, and he’d splash and swim in the afternoon sun while Katharine, her parasol propped above her auburn hair, laughed with him from her seat on the boat.

  When Cassie was a baby, they would take her out on the boat with them for an hour or two. Sometimes he would swim, while other days they would simply row along, pointing out butterflies and carp and rock bass to their daughter, who was too young to appreciate the wildlife. Still, there was nothing more enjoyable to him than rowing the river with his family.

  Then Katharine had gotten pregnant again. During most of her pregnancy, she was so sick that she became a prisoner of her bed. Their Sunday afternoon boat rides turned into a memory. They laughed about their times on the water. Remembered. But they never went back on the boat again. It would have been too much strain on Katharine and their baby.

  How he missed his wife—desperately at times. Even so, he was here now, in the Amanas, and Katharine had moved on to a much better place with the Savior she loved. He’d mourned for almost a year now. Perhaps it was time to start living again, for the sake of Katharine and his daughter.

  When Cassie was released from quarantine, he’d try to bring her down here and borrow this old boat. Maybe she would enjoy boating as much as her mother had.

  Unbuttoning his shirt, he laid it across the boat along with his shoes and tossed his trousers on top. Carefully he unwound the bandage from his leg and placed the white cloth beside the rest of his things. A scab had formed over the cut and a black bruise encircled it, but the pain was gone.

  With the bar of soap in his hands, he waded into the cold water and then dove into the river. Soap and water washed off the weeks of dirt that had caked on his skin, and in some peculiar way, the river water almost felt like it washed away some of the fear that had been accumulating for weeks as well. Confidence was replacing his worry. And hope. He couldn’t give up now.

  If Katharine were still here, she would tell him to keep moving. Keep pressing until he found a position. She believed in him and in his ability to find a job. He was healthy, and he was determined. There had to be work someplace for him, and he would find it. Not that he wanted his daughter riding the rails, but perhaps they wouldn’t have to go very far.

  He dove under the water again and rinsed his hair.

  Iowa seemed like a good place to raise a child, and he certainly liked the people here. Perhaps there was work to be found in Des Moines or Cedar Rapids or even over in Iowa City.

  If only they didn’t have to leave Homestead. The people here had been so kind to him and Cassie. It felt almost like the years he’d spent living near his grandparents—the one place that held the security of home.

  The Amana people were gracious, but they were also part of a commune. A closed commune. Liesel told him they allowed tourists to stay in their midst, but few people were permitted to join the Amana Society.

  From a purely financial perspective, he understood why the Elders wouldn’t allow anyone new to join. It must take a significant amount of money and labor to support the seventeen hundred people who lived in the seven villages. The Society’s operations seemed to run smoothly because everyone was dedicated to their faith and community. If someone joined from the outside world without the same work ethic and faith in God, he might stop contributing, and then the convert would become a burden on the society.

  The Amana Colonies were a locked door to Cassie and him, but perhaps they could settle someplace nearby.

  Reluctantly, he climbed up the riverbank to dry off and dress. The sun would rise soon, and out of respect for the villagers, he would hide himself back in the doctor’s house before the bell tolled for breakfast.

  Your life is to be a pilgrimage and your spiritual growth shall be accomplished in the Lord, through whom you are moved.

  Johann Friedrich Rock, 1725

  Chapter Ten

  Doll clothes, painted blocks, and pieces from a wooden puzzle were scattered across the sitting room floor along with a tiny crib the town carpenter had built for Princess Cocoa, Cassie’s new doll. Liesel maneuvered a baby buggy around the toys, squealing as she raced through the maze. Princess Cocoa was supposed to be sleeping in the buggy, but no doll—or child—could sleep through this madness.

  With a lurch, Liesel parked the buggy in front of the ottoman, inches from Cassie, and she gasped. “We must rescue the princess.”


  “Oh yes.” Cassie giggled from her perch on the sofa. “We must.”

  “But…” Liesel leaned toward the buggy, checking the princess. “Oh, no.”

  Cassie pressed her hands to her heart. “What is it, Queen Liesel?”

  “He’s coming….”

  Cassie turned toward the window, toward the rays that emerged from the glass panes. “Not the evil magician?”

  She leaned down, whispering. “Even worse.”

  Cassie’s eyes grew wide. “The dragon?”

  “Yes, my friend.” She reached down and pulled Princess Cocoa from the carriage. “That horrible, terrible dragon.”

  Cassie lifted her candlestick scepter. “You must save her,” she commanded.

  Liesel clutched the doll to her chest. “I will try.”

  Cassie looked back at the window. “It’s too late.”

  “Oh…” She spun around slowly, the doll in her arms. “Oh, no.”

  Cassie giggled as Liesel spun one more time, and laughter tumbled from Liesel’s lips as she collapsed on the floor. The door to the sitting room creaked open, and Liesel tried to jump to her feet, but she couldn’t do it. Nor could she stop laughing.

  Cassie stared at the doorway, and for an instant, Liesel didn’t recognize the clean-shaven man who walked into the room. Jacob wore navy trousers and a white-cuffed shirt, and his hair was combed neatly behind his ears. There was no trace of hobo left on Jacob Hirsch.

  Swallowing her laughter, Liesel gathered the hem of her skirt in her hands and hopped to her feet. What must he think of her, sprawled out on the floor like a child? He probably thought she was twelve instead of twenty-two.

  “You took a bath, Papa.”

  Jacob sat beside his princess of a daughter, and Cassie placed her hands over his clean cheeks and turned his head slightly to examine his ears. Nudging his face upward, she checked his neck and then lifted her sleeve to rub a smudge off his chin. “Good job, Papa.”

  Jacob tugged her close to him. “I’m glad you approve.” He turned and looked at Liesel with a smile. “You’re both up early.”

  “I…,” she started—but her words jumbled. “Cassie…”

  “I was the first one up,” Cassie said.

  At least one of them didn’t have a problem finding her words.

  “I went to Liesel’s room.”

  “You should have let her sleep.”

  “Oh, no.” Liesel waved her hands. “It’s not often I get to be queen for a day.”

  Jacob flashed her a smile of appreciation, like she had done something heroic by playing with his daughter, but she was having just as much fun as Cassie. Perhaps even more.

  “Are you hungry?” Jacob asked his daughter, and she nodded.

  Liesel brushed her hands over her hairnet. “We’re having fried potatoes and bread and butter for breakfast.”

  “How do you know that?”

  She shrugged. “It’s Wednesday.”

  Seconds later someone knocked on the door, and Liesel swept across the floor to open it. The doctor stood in the doorway with the breakfast tray in his hands and a newspaper tucked under his arm. She took the tray of fried potatoes and bread and coffee from him.

  “It’s three days old, but the Elders still thought you might want to read it.” The doctor tossed the newspaper to Jacob while Liesel began arranging the food on the small table.

  Jacob caught the rolled-up paper. “Thank you.”

  “We should get the results back from the laboratory any day,” the doctor said. “And then you can both leave the house.”

  Liesel’s stomach flipped with his words. Of course she wanted the cultures to come back negative, but when they did, neither Jacob nor Cassie would need her anymore. Jacob’s leg was healing, and without the fear of diphtheria hovering over them, Jacob and Mrs. Trachsel could care for Cassie without her. Jacob and Cassie would go back to being a family, and she would return to the gardens—back to the predictable, steady life in the Colonies.

  She loved the Amana villages, loved the community that rallied around its residents and strangers alike. Still, an ember of discontent burned inside her. She didn’t want to move away like Sophie, though. She’d stay here in Homestead with her remaining friends, but some days, she craved purpose outside herself and her daily chores of weeding and harvesting food.

  Staying here, caring for Cassie, sparked that sense of purpose inside her. It was almost as if God had planted this desire in her heart, so strong that it was impossible for her to ignore.

  How could she convince the Elders that she wasn’t losing herself to selfish pursuits because she desired to work with children instead of in the gardens?

  Ignoring the breakfast tray, Jacob unfolded the newspaper and spread it out on a side table, as if news from the outside world would give him more sustenance than potatoes and bread. Like Conrad Keller used to do when the paper came to him.

  She scooped up a serving of potatoes and handed it to Cassie along with a tin of coffee mixed with milk. Why was news from the outside world so important to men like Conrad and Jacob? She couldn’t care less what was going on in the world outside the Colonies. Everything important to her was right here, including the people in front of her and right outside the window.

  And the woman who’d left for Cedar Rapids.

  Now that her friend was gone, Liesel did wonder, just a bit, what was happening in the city north of them. Sophie’s new world.

  Cassie scooped a spoonful of potatoes into her mouth. With bulging cheeks, she tried to speak. “Queen Liesel?”

  “Ja.”

  “Will you play with me again after breakfast?”

  Liesel bowed her head slightly, like she imagined a real queen would do. “I would be delighted to play with you…and Princess Cocoa, of course.”

  Cassie’s smile warmed her heart, and of one thing Liesel was certain. She didn’t want the quarantine to end.

  The bank had closed hours ago, but Frank didn’t leave the building. His wife was throwing a dinner party tonight, and he was supposed to be there alongside her, smiling and shaking the hands of some of his finest customers. His friends. He couldn’t face the people who’d deposited most of their savings with him. They’d trusted him, and he was failing them…miserably.

  For almost a week he’d pored over the ledgers on his desk, days and nights alike, and he’d discovered a peculiar trend. Some of his best customers’ accounts had been depleted over the winter and spring in withdrawals of fifty to a hundred dollars—some of the men and women who were at his house at this very moment.

  As he’d reviewed the accounts over the past year, he’d seen the transactions, but he’d never suspected that one of his clerks would record false withdrawals on the records. Though he trusted those in his employ implicitly, he still checked the accounts almost every day. Nothing had seemed amiss.

  Over the weekend, he had inventoried the basement vault, hoping that somehow the missing money would appear—Caldwell’s thousand along with the thousands of other dollars he now speculated were missing. Without asking his individual customers, he had no idea how much was gone, and there was no way he could ask. They would want their money returned immediately, and if he had another rush on his bank, it wouldn’t survive.

  He opened up another ledger, searching the records for some sort of clue. If he searched long enough, he would discover where the money had gone, but it would pain him to discover that Bradford or Jacob—men he had trusted—had stolen from him.

  Until he hired Orwin, Frank thought that Jacob Hirsch would succeed him as president of the bank. He hadn’t wanted to fire Jacob—he was talented and devoted to his career—but when it came time to let either Jacob or Orwin go, he’d had no choice but to terminate Jacob’s position.

  Someone coughed outside Frank’s door.

  Frank closed his book and looked up as Orwin walked through the door. “You’re working late.”

  Orwin shuffled to the edge of the desk, but he didn’t s
it. Instead he handed Frank the names and addresses of his former clerks. “I just got back from visiting Bradford Pendleton’s family over in Maywood.”

  Frank leaned forward, hoping Orwin had answers for him. “And?”

  “Bradford is working as a city assessor.”

  “And how is he faring?”

  Orwin coughed into his arm. “He seems to be getting by just fine. Not prospering, mind you, but he’s living in the same home with his family.”

  Frank picked up a pencil and drew a line over Bradford’s name. Even though he wouldn’t wish the position of a tax assessor on anyone, the man wouldn’t have stolen money and then gone on to assess taxes.

  He drummed his fingers on his desk. “What about Jacob Hirsch?”

  Orwin reached into his satchel and took out a package wrapped in brown paper and twine. He set it on his lap. “I couldn’t find him.”

  Frank slid forward on his chair. “Where did he go?”

  “It’s a bit of a mystery,” Orwin said with a shrug. “His neighbor said he disappeared.”

  “Disappeared?”

  The man nodded. “He and his daughter walked out of their house last week and never came back.”

  Frank slumped back in his chair. Jacob was plenty smart enough to embezzle money, but he had also seemed to be dedicated to his job, dedicated to the success of the bank. He’d always been an honest employee…or so Frank thought. Of course, he’d been overwhelmed with medical bills over the past year and taking care of his daughter when his neighbor couldn’t watch her. There was no telling what people were capable of when they were desperate.

  He circled Jacob’s name on the paper. “The neighbor doesn’t know where he went?”

  “No idea.”