Love Finds You in Nazareth, Pennsylvania

by Melanie Dobson

She glanced down at her hands. “But I didn’t know he would find out about Christian.”

  Her head jerked up, and as she watched Susanna’s eyes widen, she wished she could swallow her words, make them disappear, but it was too late.

  Susanna set down her spoon, and her voice trembled when she spoke again. “What about Christian?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Instead of sneaking through the darkness this time, Christian and Samuel hiked out of the village in the brilliant morning light. They had baptized eighteen Indians in the frigid river, and he wished they could stay behind and join Chief Langoma and the others in the initial months of joy that come when someone decides to follow the Savior. And journey with them through the months of trials that would surely come as well.

  Their Indian friends waved to them as they walked to the edge of the settlement, and then the chief accompanied them down to the river. On the trees of the riverbank were red-painted pictures of bears and birds and turtles, and Christian noted the images as he promised the chief he would visit again when the harvest was done.

  The chief shook his head at his promise, Samuel interpreting the warning that hostile Indians had been seen nearby. These Indians wouldn’t be pleased to know that white men were sharing freedom with the Indian people. But Christian wasn’t frightened or intimidated. God had brought them to Chief Langoma and his people, and if it was His will for them to return safely home, their Savior would guard them on their journey.

  He climbed into the front of the canoe, and when Samuel began to paddle, Christian joined him. It was a four-hour canoe ride downstream to Gnadenhutten, and if the weather didn’t hinder them, they should be back before dark.

  As the bright red pictures disappeared behind them, Christian prayed that the new converts would stay strong in the next months, that they would pray together as he and Samuel had explained and hold fast in their new faith. It would be hard for them to remain strong without someone to read them God’s Word and answer their questions.

  Samuel guided them around a large rock in the middle of the water. “You did well back there.”

  “I did nothing,” he said with a shake of his head. “It was God’s story that inspired them.”

  “His story, yes. His story along with your love.”

  In that moment, Christian realized that he had begun to love these people. Their travels had started as a mission to share the hope and truth of Christ, a truth that continued to propel him forward, but now it was a mission of caring as well. He didn’t want the Indians to simply make a decision. He desperately wanted them to know the heart of their Savior.

  No matter what anyone had done, no matter how foul, God desired to remove the sin.

  No matter what they had done…

  “Samuel.” He hesitated, wondering if this was the right thing for him to do. He put his oar on his lap and turned toward the back of the boat. “The Bible says we need to confess our sins.”

  Samuel questioned him with his look. “Yes, it does.”

  A clump of snow fell from a pine branch onto Christian’s hat, and he shook it off. “I’ve been confessing my sins to God, but the Bible also tells us that we should confess them to each other.”

  Samuel nodded. “Satan can only control us if we hold onto our sin. He has no control over us if we tell our brothers.”

  Christian stared at Samuel, dumbfounded, even as he knew the man was right. Samuel didn’t need another member of the Brethren to go on a mission to the Indians. God had infused him with wisdom and truth…and love for his people.

  “You are my brother, Samuel.”

  Samuel lifted his oar out of the water, and they glided in the slow current. “I thought you were scared of me.”

  “Not anymore.” Christian dipped his oar into the river. “For months I’ve been sharing the story of forgiveness for sins and yet I wrestle every day within myself.”

  “You wrestle to forgive?”

  “I wrestle to rid myself of my sins.”

  Samuel waited a moment before he spoke again. “Elias’s wife is a pretty woman.”

  Christian stared at him, shocked at his words. “How did you know about Catharine?”

  “It is quite obvious, my friend. You watch her constantly, like she is a bear and you are the hunter.”

  The elation inside him from their time with Chief Langoma seemed to collapse. Samuel knew the truth now as well as Elias. Catharine had even hinted that Susanna might have guessed his affection for her friend.

  Who else knew about what he tried so hard to keep secret?

  Samuel began paddling again. “You must stop watching her.”

  “All day long, I try to force myself not to think about her—not to look at her—but then she haunts my dreams. Her heart belongs to Elias, but I can’t seem to control my heart.” Emotion poured out of him. Desperation. “I don’t want to long for her any more. I want to love Susanna.”

  Samuel reached up and grabbed a branch overhead, stopping the canoe. Without saying another word, he bowed his head and began to pray. He prayed that God would deliver Christian from the devil’s attempts to sidetrack him from his work in sharing the Gospel. He prayed that the demons would stop tormenting Christian when he slept. And he prayed that the message of forgiveness would transform Christian as well as all who heard it from his lips.

  When Samuel finished his prayer, Christian felt like the stronghold of his sin had begun to crumble. Samuel released the branch and they began to paddle in sync again. And as they paddled, the mysterious power of God began to renew Christian’s spirit and his mind.

  Samuel’s voice was low when he spoke again. “There is one other person you must confess to.”

  “Elias already knows.”

  “Not Elias,” Samuel said. “You must tell Susanna.”

  Susanna?

  His heart dipped again. It was hard enough to tell Samuel about his dreams, but to tell his wife? In the purity of her spirit, what could she possibly think of him in his sin? He had already failed her in their marriage. With his confession, she would think even less of him.

  “I can’t.”

  “You must tell her,” Samuel insisted. “It is the only way for both of you to break free.”

  Susanna rolled over on her bed. Catharine had insisted that her words last night meant nothing, that she’d misspoken about Christian being the reason she and Elias quarreled. And yet the thought continued to niggle at Susanna. Why would Catharine and Elias fight about her husband?

  Even though Susanna longed to hear more about Christian and his travels to the Indians, Catharine answered few of her questions, saying she would have to speak with Christian when he returned. But she didn’t know when her husband would return or even if he would ever come back. She shuddered. If he were injured in the wilderness or taken away by another Indian, she would never know what happened. He would simply be gone. Lily assured her that no one with Samuel would get lost in the wilderness, but what if Christian, in his stubbornness, decided to go somewhere without his guide? Sometimes a man’s determination could get him into trouble.

  She’d gone over the possibilities so many times in her head, Christian lying wounded alone or wounded by an Indian. The worry never helped except when it inspired her to pray. And so she prayed yet again.

  When she opened her eyes, she gazed at the starlight in the window as the snores of sisters on both sides of her harmonized with softer breathing. Easter was upon them now, and Lily and the other women assured her that the weather in the New World would turn calm in weeks if not days. They said wind and rain would replace the snow for a season and then the sun would warm the earth.

  In a few days now, on Easter, Susanna would be twenty-three. Her mother used to celebrate the day of Susanna’s birth with a picnic lunch and special cakes made of caraway seeds, sugar, and milk. They would spread a cloth in a grassy field, among the wildflowers that blossomed every spring. Perhaps this year Annabel would let her and Lily celebrate her day by roaming the
hills outside the village after they hid the eggs for the children.

  She closed her eyes, allowing herself to dream again.

  The best birthday gift, of course, would be for her husband to return home on Easter day.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Smoke from the fireplace coiled above the white rooftop of Gnadenhutten’s Gemeinhaus, as water poured over the wheel of Elias’s gristmill and splashed into the river. Christian and Samuel had pulled the canoe out of the water about a half mile downstream and hiked toward the settlement. Christian’s fingers were numb from the cold of the evening, his throat dry.

  The sun had already set as the two men rushed into the warm lodge. Samuel greeted the Christian Indians who shuffled through the door to welcome them home. Christian tried to greet them with enthusiasm as well, but his body wanted to fold over itself and sleep by the fireplace. He sat on a cane chair by the table, and when he reached out in front of the fire to rub the numbness out of his hands, his fingers stung. He pulled them away from the flames.

  An Indian named Benjamin ladled hot tea from a kettle over the fire and handed each of them a gourd filled with the drink to fight off their chill. Christian cradled the cup in his hands, his fingers awakened by the fire, and drank the mixture of peppermint and ginger. The pain began to subside, but even the peppermint couldn’t warm the chill that tangled itself around his core.

  With his last sips, he felt as if he had awakened from a stupor, and he glanced from the table to the stairs on the other side of the room. For the first time since they walked in the door, he realized that neither the Schmidts nor the Wittkes were among those gathered to greet them.

  “Where is Elias?” he asked.

  Benjamin turned slowly from the fire. “He already left for Nazareth.”

  “Nazareth…” Christian repeated the word. “What about Joseph?”

  “He and his wife left as well.”

  “But we were all supposed to leave together on the last day of March.”

  Instead of responding, Benjamin turned to Samuel, speaking in the language of the Delaware. Christian understood very little of their conversation.

  Samuel motioned him away from the table, and they stood by the doorway.

  “They all returned to Nazareth four days ago,” Samuel whispered. “Elias finished his work on the mill, and they needed to go back before Catharine’s child was born.”

  “Catharine’s child?”

  Samuel watched him, and Christian thought his own reaction to the news might be one of anger, but oddly enough, he felt nothing.

  “They were concerned she might deliver soon.”

  He quickly calculated the months in his mind, wondering for a brief moment when she had conceived this child, but the thought dissolved under the intensity of Samuel’s gaze. The man knew what he was thinking, and that knowledge forced him to push the thought away.

  “Benjamin guided them and the Wittkes back to Nazareth.”

  Christian rubbed his hands together. He wasn’t anxious to confront the cold again, but it was time to go home. “We must follow them.”

  Samuel nodded. “At first light.”

  Benjamin looked at Samuel. “Howling Wolf and several of his men were spotted near here yesterday.”

  Samuel glanced at Christian, and Christian saw the slightest hint of fear in his eyes before he looked back at Benjamin. Christian had begun to believe that Samuel wasn’t afraid of anything. “Are you certain?”

  Benjamin nodded. “I saw them myself when I returned, near the Rose Meadow.”

  “We will be careful.”

  Christian slept fitfully in the loft. Catharine didn’t haunt his dreams that night, nor did this Howling Wolf or any of the other Indians. Tonight he dreamed of Susanna. But it wasn’t a dream that warmed him, like the ones of Catharine. This one frightened him. He asked for her forgiveness at his deception and she refused to give it, like Elias refused Catharine the peace brought by forgiveness.

  So long ago, back in Bethlehem, the men had asked him if he was afraid of his wife. He’d lied. He was terrified of her.

  Even so, Samuel was right. He would never be free—he and Susanna would never be free together—unless he told her the truth.

  Long before daylight, Christian awoke and he and Samuel hiked out of Gnadenhutten in the darkness. The ridges of the mountains sparkled in the light and ice from a dozen waterfalls clung to rocks, blue crystals glittering like gemmed necklaces adorning the cliffs. There was no snow on the other side of the mountain, so the two men sloshed their way through the valley.

  “Will you truly go back to visit Chief Langoma in the fall?” Samuel asked.

  “If the Lord wills it.”

  “Once Chief Langoma tells other clans about what happened with his people,” Samuel said, “there will be more who will want to know about the Savior.”

  “I would like to tell them,” Christian replied. “And I would like it if you went with me again.”

  Samuel was quiet for a moment. “I would like to return as well.”

  Christian nodded, and they continued their walk in the silence. The pathway grew drier as they hiked south, until they no longer struggled to walk through mud.

  Christian was grateful for Samuel’s companionship and his wisdom. They worked well together, and until he learned the language—if he ever learned the language—he trusted the man to interpret his message and guide him both along the terrain and within the villages.

  He’d never needed another man to protect him before, but he sensed that the Indians might not have been as welcoming to him without Samuel’s presence. They didn’t trust white men, and Christian couldn’t blame them. White men were trying to force them off their lands and kill Indians from the Delaware nation and from nations like the Mohawk and Oneida.

  Christian also understood the white men’s fear. If an Indian scalped his neighbor or child, he might be afraid too. It was impossible for a European to know the Indians who came in goodwill versus those who killed for spite.

  “Who is this Howling Wolf?” he ventured.

  Samuel’s gaze remained on the path. “Many of our people are not happy with those who tell Indians the story of Christ. Howling Wolf isn’t pleased with this new faith that some of his people are embracing, nor is he happy that the Brethren have settled in Nazareth and other places where the Indians were once free to roam.”

  “But we purchased that land from George Whitefield.”

  “Howling Wolf doesn’t believe Whitefield was the rightful owner of the land.”

  “Is this Howling Wolf the reason that only one Indian chief would listen to our message?”

  “One reason, perhaps, but it is a hard message you deliver, that a god would care about his people and offer his gift of forgiveness for free, when most of the gods my people know require so much of them.”

  “They prefer a god who is cruel?”

  “Some of them prefer a god they understand,” Samuel replied. “A god who thrives on division and war and doesn’t ask them to give up their rum or their many wives.”

  “If you think I should speak in a different way to them, Samuel, you need to tell me.”

  “You didn’t preach to Chief Langoma and his people. You told the story of Christ and they understood the power in this story—”

  Samuel suddenly threw out his hand in front of Christian, stopping his walk. Christian squinted ahead of them, into dense pine trees, and started to speak, but Samuel put his finger against his lips and motioned for Christian to follow him. They slipped behind a narrow rock along the path, and Samuel pulled his musket over his shoulder, bracing it in his hands.

  From behind the rock Christian watched three Indians pass by, and he held his breath. In spite of the cold temperatures, their chests were bare, bows and quivers of arrows strapped over them. Emblazoned across the chest of the first man was some sort of tattoo.

  A fissure between the rock and cliff exposed their hiding place, but it was too late to move farthe
r back into the woods. Christian pressed his back against the cliff, but the men were still in sight. If the Indians turned to the side, they would be able to see him as well. But the men didn’t seem to realize that they were being watched. They plodded along quietly, their footsteps making no sound. If Samuel, who’d shown no fear in the midst of all the villages they had visited, feared these men, then Christian was wise to fear them as well.

  Seconds passed after the Indians disappeared from view, but Samuel kept the gun in his hand.

  “Don’t move,” he whispered, and Christian remained motionless against the jagged cliff.

  He didn’t know how many minutes went by before Samuel lowered his gun and directed him away from the rock and the pathway.

  “Was that Howling Wolf?”

  Samuel nodded. “And two of his men.”

  “But I didn’t hear them.”

  “Neither did I,” Samuel said. “I smelled them.”

  Christian wiped his clammy hands on his new leather breeches. In that moment, he was exceedingly glad for the guidance of his friend.

  As she brushed her long hair, Susanna squinted out the window, into the dark morning, as she listened to the trumpets and trombone play. There was no pattering of rain on the window or clumps of snow, but she wished she knew if sunshine would greet them on this Easter morning. Her birthday.

  She twisted back her hair before she tied the blue ribbon of her haube under her chin. To celebrate Easter morning, she slipped her blue bodice over her shoulders and tied the ribbons. The other women around her busied themselves, preparing for the early morning of worship.

  She lit an oil lantern, and when the bell rang, Catharine stepped in beside her and they joined the other women, also carrying lanterns, who followed Annabel across the plaza. This time though, they didn’t stop at the Gemeinhaus. They continued walking up a long slope, past the Disciple’s House and through the trees until they joined their brothers at the cemetery they called God’s Acre.

  Flat stones marked the graves, and they seemed to glow in the lantern light as the people sang. The sun rose over the hills and forest to their east, and as the sunshine warmed her face, Susanna knew it was going to be a glorious spring day. The sisters would take the dyed eggs to the Nursery this afternoon and hide them for the children. And then the community would enjoy them along with a feast for their supper.