Love Finds You in Nazareth, Pennsylvania

by Melanie Dobson

  He wished he could speak to Samuel, but the Indian had returned already to Bethlehem. While Brother Edward was a good spiritual advisor, he was also a single man who didn’t understand the relationship between a husband and wife. And Christian and Joseph never talked about anything more substantial than weather and crops. Joseph followed after God, but he held private the spiritual matters in his life as well as the marital ones.

  Christian had begun to wonder if marital health and spiritual health went hand in hand.

  Over the months, he’d begun to believe the lot was right in its direction for him. Even with her beauty and charm, Catharine was not a good companion for him or any other missionary. During their time in Gnadenhutten, she’d almost shunned the Indians instead of encouraging them, and he’d heard her complain to Rebecca several times about their living conditions.

  He couldn’t imagine what Catharine would think, traveling with Samuel to the villages and sleeping on the benches among the Indians or in the forest with the animals. He was frustrated with her actions and he clung to the frustration—much better to be frustrated with her than long for her. She would do better with Elias in Bethlehem or Nazareth than alongside Christian in the Indian villages.

  “‘They that wait on the Lord shall renew their strength.’” He spoke the words of Isaiah in the darkness. “‘They shall run, and not grow weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.’”

  He prayed that, in time, Susanna would forgive him for what he had done, but he wouldn’t push her. He would wait on the Lord and pray that God would not allow him to grow weary.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Susanna slipped into the spinning room and slammed the door behind her. How could Christian have done this to her? How could Catharine? Catharine could be selfish at times, but she thought there was kindness in her friend’s heart as well.

  She closed her eyes and tried to erase the image of Christian and Catharine in her mind, but the image persisted. She couldn’t blame Christian for wanting Catharine—any man would prefer Catharine over her. But it didn’t stop the despair from welling up inside her.

  She leaned back against the timbers, breathing fast yet not able to catch her breath. She tried to make sense of the words Christian spoke. He and Catharine had once loved each other, back in London. They’d even talked of marriage. She should have asked him more questions, probed deeper about their history, but the shock of it stole away her resolve.

  She sank to the floor and pulled her knees close to her chest. Christian told her the truth now, but before, in the first months of marriage, had he and Catharine been making a mockery out of their spouses? They’d loved one another and yet they had been selected to marry people they didn’t love.

  No wonder Christian had been so distant to her, why he didn’t even want to be alone with her until today. Not only did Christian not love her, but his heart longed for another. She was a product of his disappointment, the rejection of the lot. The only reason they had married was because he didn’t get the woman he desired.

  Oh, why hadn’t the elders told her about his affections for Catharine? Or did Christian guard his secret from them as well? If she’d known the truth, she would have refused the lot.

  No wonder Christian had been so ambivalent at their wedding. He must have spent the morning looking at the bride next to Susanna, wishing he stood behind Catharine instead.

  He could have asked not to marry her, before they selected the lot, except for his need of a companion. She wished he would have declined. He should have remained unmarried if he didn’t want to marry her, even if it meant he couldn’t come to Pennsylvania.

  Maybe she wasn’t even Christian’s second choice. She’d heard of men who had selected a dozen women before the lot finally concurred with their choice. By the time Christian had agreed to marry her, his heart might have been torn into pieces. He had nothing left to give her.

  As she sat on the floor, her legs curled close to her chest, the room felt unsteady around her. She wished now that the darkness would swallow her again, like it had back in Bethlehem, but the darkness didn’t take her this time.

  She leaned her head against her knees. Even if there had only been one woman before her, Christian should have told her. He should have let her know that this marriage was for companionship only, with no hope of growing into love. Maybe she would have accepted, knowing those terms, so that she could come to Pennsylvania as well. Except she would have to spend a lifetime knowing that her husband wished to marry another.

  Oh, it was a miserable affair. Even though they hadn’t yet consummated the marriage, the elders would never allow her to end it. Plenty of the Brethren married without love and their marriages survived. But she didn’t know how a woman could remain married for the rest of her life if she knew her spouse loved another.

  Susanna slowly stood up and leaned toward the closed door, listening for footsteps. When she didn’t hear any, she opened the door and rushed back down to the security of her dormitory. There would be no more secrets for her, for them. No more hiding.

  Catharine slept in her bed like the rest of the women, and Susanna stared down at her. If Catharine loved Christian, why hadn’t she told Susanna before they both married? And if Catharine loved Christian, why did she marry Elias Schmidt?

  Her mother had once told her that love made people do strange things. Susanna’s heart had never erupted with love like many of her friends, but if Catharine had loved Christian, no matter if the lot concurred or not, she should have told her the truth.

  As she sat down on Catharine’s bed, she scanned the row to her right. Lily was back in her bed and the rest of the sisters were still asleep. She shook Catharine’s arm to wake her friend.

  Catharine opened her eyes slowly, reluctantly, and Susanna realized she hadn’t been sleeping at all. Only pretending, like she had been doing all along.

  “You and Christian—”

  Catharine shook her head. “Nothing happened between us in Marienborn.”

  “Not in Marienborn, Catharine, back in London.” She sat on the bed, facing her friend. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew Christian before Marienborn?”

  “I wanted to tell you earlier,” Catharine said. “But I thought it would wound you.”

  “Of course it wounds me.” Susanna arched her back, not sure exactly what to say to her friend. “You knew my husband.”

  “Not in the biblical way,” Catharine whispered. “Not in any way that matters.”

  “He wanted to marry you.”

  “He only thought he did,” Catharine replied. “He has a much better bride in you.”

  But Christian didn’t think so. As nice as he had been to her in their few times together, he had treated her as he would any sister. And he should treat her as a sister when he loved another woman.

  “I didn’t think any good would come out of telling you,” Catharine persisted. “It—it seemed so long ago that I knew Christian. I didn’t know he’d come to Marienborn to marry—”

  “But you’d talked of marriage.”

  Catharine was silent for a moment. “Not for a long time.”

  “But you must have guessed.”

  Catharine folded her hands over her stomach. “I thought the elders might come with the news that the lot had confirmed our marriage, but if they did, I was going to decline the offer.”

  Susanna flinched. She’d never heard of any woman declining the will of the lot in marriage, nor could she imagine someone refusing to marry a man like Christian.

  “There wasn’t anything wrong with Christian,” Catharine continued. “It’s just—Elias and I had begun to sneak away to the fields near the castle months before our wedding. I wanted to marry him.”

  “What would you have done if the lot had said you couldn’t marry Elias?”

  Catharine didn’t hesitate. “We would have left the Brethren.”

  Susanna looked out the dark window. The selection of Catharine’s husband was more important to her fr
iend than the bond of their faith. No wonder the elders didn’t want a brother and sister to court prior to going before the lot. It made things messy on this side of their marriage.

  “I promise you,” Catharine said, “I never did anything in Marienborn to make Christian think I loved him.”

  Susanna studied her friend in the dim light. She wanted to believe that Catharine hadn’t seduced her husband or led him to believe they would marry, but she didn’t know what to believe.

  Susanna stood up and reached for her shawl, pulling it tight around her shoulders. Then she walked away from Catharine and out of the Sisters House. She didn’t even realize where she was going until morning dawned on the Nursery in front of her.

  She climbed the Nursery steps, and when she went inside, to the tables where the children were eating breakfast, one of the girls shouted her name. They surrounded her with hugs, and she understood why Mariana loved her job so much. The children were honest in their love.

  Maybe it would be better if Christian went back to the Indians alone. He was doing what he loved, and perhaps she could move to the Nursery like Mariana requested and help with the children. She wouldn’t be reaching out to the Indians on a mission like she’d envisioned, but she could tell the Brethren’s children about how Christ loved them. And how He would never deceive them.

  Christian pored over the Scriptures in Edward’s office, trying to find solace in the words he knew in his heart, words that often struggled to reach his mind. With most of the snow gone, the men had gone to work on completing a storage building for the summer’s grain. Edward insisted that Christian stay inside to rest, and Christian hadn’t argued. During the past six months he’d rarely been alone, and only in the aloneness could he ask God to renew his spirit. And grant him wisdom in how to love his wife.

  He lifted his head, looked across the grass to the Sisters House, and wondered what Susanna was doing today, which tasks she preferred and what talents God had blessed her with. He’d been married for almost a year now and he knew very little about his wife.

  He hadn’t seen her since the day after Easter, five days past. Not even at worship. He’d knocked once since then to ask about her well-being, but Sister Annabel had sent him away without a response. And he supposed he didn’t deserve a response, not after what he had done.

  Someone pounded on the front door of the Brothers House, and he closed the Scriptures to answer it. In his heart he hoped that perhaps Annabel had come already, requesting another meeting for him and his wife. He hoped she wanted to meet soon—there was so much more he wanted to say.

  But when he opened the door, there wasn’t a familiar sister waiting outside, nor was there a brother. Instead, before him was a white woman and two children—a boy about three or four and a girl a year or so older. Their faces were smeared with dirt, their hair tangled, and they smelled of smoke. Even with the cool weather, none of them wore coats. The woman carried a small bundle wrapped in a wool blanket. Christian looked over their shoulders to see if the children’s father accompanied them, but he saw no one. Nor did he see a wagon or cart or even a horse.

  He opened the door wide and motioned them into the common room. Then from the side of their residence, a man rushed toward him. His clothes were torn, his face an ashen-gray color. And in his hands he held a musket. Christian asked him to leave the gun outside, but the man didn’t acknowledge him or his request as he hurried up the steps to join the family.

  The children huddled close to their mother, who was still clutching the bundled woolen blanket. The man sat in a chair with his rumpled fur cap low on his head and the musket in his hands. None of them spoke.

  When the front door opened again, Edward walked inside.

  “I thought I saw company.” Edward held out his hand and the man shook it. Edward eyed the musket as well, but he didn’t say anything.

  “Where are you from?” he asked.

  The man blinked, like he didn’t understand the words, and the woman spoke for him.

  “Ten miles, west of here.” She choked on her words. “Indians came yesterday…and they burned down our home.”

  She stared at Edward and then Christian, like they might know what to do. Her eyes were void of tears. Christian didn’t know what to say, but he thought back to Howling Wolf and the other Indians they had seen in the forest. Dangerous men, according to Samuel.

  Had they taken revenge on this family?

  “You’re blessed to be alive,” Christian said.

  “No—” She clutched the woolen bundle to her chest, and for a moment, he wondered if there was a child inside; no baby could survive being wrapped so tightly.

  He glanced back toward the window, wishing Susanna were here with him. She would know how to comfort this woman in the loss of her home and probably her land.

  “Our baby,” she cried, and then he knew. There had been a baby in her arms, yesterday perhaps. And now the baby was gone.

  The daughter and son hugged her, trying to comfort her. Edward stood silent beside Christian, seemingly unable to help them with their sorrow. Christian had heard many stories of Indians attacking colonists in their homes, but never so close to Nazareth.

  Christian hurried toward the door and then jogged across the plaza, rushing into the Sisters House without knocking and then down into the basement, where he found Susanna among those who were cleaning up after breakfast. He wanted to tell her again how sorry he was, how he would do whatever he could to win her trust again, but right now, they needed to focus on the family across the plaza.

  Annabel stepped in front of Susanna, protecting her from him. “You already had your visit.”

  “I need her.”

  “Another time, Brother Christian.”

  He shook his head, trying to clarify his words. “A family just arrived in our community.”

  He scanned the women working in the room and found the Indian girl who lived among them. He didn’t want to condemn her along with the Indians who had killed this family’s child—good and evil dwelt among every group of people—but he had to speak the truth.

  “Indians burned down their home.”

  He heard Susanna’s soft gasp, and he couldn’t bring himself to tell her and the others that the Indians had killed their baby as well. His eyes lingered on Susanna even as he spoke to Annabel. “I need a sister who can comfort them.”

  Susanna stepped around the laboress, but she didn’t look at him when she spoke. “I will go.”

  Annabel turned toward her. “Are you certain?”

  When Susanna nodded her head, Annabel waved her on. “Then go to them.”

  With Susanna at his side, Christian rushed back across the plaza and into the house. Edward still sat in his chair, watching the family, but Susanna didn’t take a seat. Instead she knelt before the woman. Christian marveled as Susanna took the woman’s hands into her own and the woman leaned into her shoulder. Susanna wrapped her arms around this new sister as she cried.

  The husband shifted his muzzle in his lap, his eyes staring out the window. Christian wished he knew how to comfort him like Susanna had done with his wife, but if he tried to take his hands, the man might shoot him. So he prayed silently instead.

  The minutes turned into a half hour, the men quiet as Susanna consoled the wife. When Susanna finally stood, she motioned Christian and Edward into the office. There was no timidity in her voice now. No reluctance. She was ready to fight for these people, and he knew the moment she started speaking that he would back her in the fight.

  “Where will we house them?” she asked.

  Edward sat in the chair behind his desk. “We will need to send them to Bethlehem.”

  She looked at him like he had lost his mind back in the hallway. “They can’t walk another ten miles.”

  “We have no room for another family,” he said. “Or food for them.”

  Susanna frowned at the laborer, the strength in her eyes not willing to cower to his position. If Edward insisted they send th
em on, there would be a battle.

  “They could live among us, in the Brothers and the Sisters Houses,” Christian suggested. “They could live and work among us for a week or two. Surely we could lesson our portions a bit so these four can eat.”

  Edward contemplated his words and then slowly nodded his head. “They can stay for a week, until they are ready to go to Bethlehem or return to their land.”

  Susanna crossed her arms. “I don’t think they will want to return.”

  “They will need to rebuild eventually.”

  “In a month or two they can decide,” she said. “Right now they must mourn the loss of their baby and their home.”

  “We must consult Elder Graff about where they can stay.”

  “We can’t split them up,” Susanna said. “They need to comfort each other.”

  Edward shook his head again. “But we have no place for them to live together.”

  Christian turned and followed Susanna’s gaze out the window, at the house built for the Zinzendorfs. She pointed toward the window. “We could house them there.”

  Edward looked out the glass, but his gaze traveled to the building across the plaza. “But there is no room in the Sisters House for a family,”

  “Not in the Sisters House.” Susanna paused. “In the Disciple’s House.”

  Edward huffed like Susanna was the mad one, but Christian moved toward the window, focused on the crown residence of their plaza. And he knew his wife was right. They didn’t know when the Zinzendorf family would arrive, and he was certain that the Count, who had sacrificed so much for those in need, would be angry if, during his absence, they turned these refugees away instead of harboring them in his home.

  Christian tapped his fingers on the glass. “Susanna is right—they can live there safely until summer comes.”

  Edward sighed. “Of course you think she is right.”

  Christian glanced back at Susanna and saw a glimmer of something in her eyes. Thankfulness, maybe. It didn’t matter, he supposed, but he was still glad of it.